#it's not fair it's not fair its not fair its not fair
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Clownfall: the Election Cometh
It's a long one, lads. Buckle up, get comfy, but the circus is in town for its final run. Ambient music as you read can be found here or here, take your pick. Get popcorn. Get snacks and water and a blanket.
Are you sitting comfortably?
Wednesday 22nd May
7.12am
Household favourite and queen of our hearts Pippa Crerar of the Guardian (her who did the investigative journalism that revealed PartyGate to the world) reports that UK inflation fell to a mere, paltry 2.3% in April. The lowest level in three years! Huzzah! But … still smaller than the decline that was expected.
Nonetheless, Rishi Sunak and Jeremy Cunt whoops I'm so sorry I meant Cunt haha whoops said it again make a big fuss about how brilliant this news is, and how it shows that they are Good At Maffs after all that trouble with Liz Truss and Kwasi Kwarteng, who defined themselves as being Good At Maffs and then obliterated the economy in a single day. Remember that! Good times. But hey, look, THIS PM/Grand Vizier combo are great at this! Inflation has fallen! Stop looking at the predicted rate! A fall is still a fall!
Crerar wonders whether people will actually feel better off, though – prices and mortgage rates are still high, after all. Food for thought.
10.04am
Jeremy Hunt is asked on the Today programme whether Sunak will call a general election.
Now, the logic here is that the government is likely to do better in an election if the economy’s improving; which, SunakCunt are now shrieking from the rooftops. So, is now the time? It's a win, and they've had so few of those, but historically people really do like to fall for the right wing = better economy myth...
BUT – the Tories are doing so very badly in the polls. Journalists favour the idea of an autumn election. Tories do better when the weather’s bad, because fewer people go out and vote.
“Well that’s a matter for the prime minister, it’s not a matter for me,” says Cunt.
... Well. Not ruling it out, then? Diddorol.
10.30am
It's Wednesday, aka the date that Tory cabinet ministers have their weekly meeting. They are duly sent the agenda.
There is no mention at all of an election announcement, nor any plan for an election.
Fair enough! 'Twas an idle thought. Plus, it would actually be bad timing from a logistical perspective - David Cameron, Foreign Secretary and Bae of Pigs, is currently flying out to Albania for an important international meeting, and Jeremy Cunt is on TV all day today - ITV next.
12.18pm
Sunak is asked at Prime Minister’s Questions whether he’ll call a general election. He doesn’t rule it out.
12.56pm
Fun tweet alert!
2.31pm
Pippa Crerar asked Sunak’s press secretary whether he was calling an election. She refused to comment.
Surely it’s a terrible time to call an election! Everyone hates them! But suddenly …
A Cabinet meeting is scheduled for 4.15pm. David Hameron suddenly u-turns in Albania and comes straight back home, his meeting un-met. Jeremy Cunt cancels his ITV appearance. The afternoon meeting is cancelled. Number 10 stops responding to journalists. Manifesto work has stepped up. Sunak’s chief-of-staff is spotted wearing a suit and tie WHICH IS UNUSUAL. Senior ministers have spent the last few days doubling down on dividing lines. And Tory bosses had a meeting this week to discuss how much money they could spend before a summer election.
The UK press sense blood in the water.
3pm
Okay.
There’s something you need to understand:
People suspect Rishi Sunak doesn’t actually want to live in the UK. He’d prefer to be in California. He’s here because he’s an MP.
You need to know this to understand this truly historic incident.
Nadine Dorries has produced a good tweet.
...
...
...
No, we all need to sit with this one for a minute
(For the record... to us, that is an excellent joke. But I strongly suspect she wasn't joking and was trying to make a catty accusation instead, which coincidentally appeared like a roast.
Scientists are referring to this as Stopped Clock Syndrome.)
5.17pm
With great dignity, Rishi Sunak stands outside Number 10 and announces a general election on 4 July.
And by “great dignity”, I mean he’s soaked by rain, while “Things Can Only Get Better” plays in the background courtesy of an anti-Tory protestor with a big speaker and a dream; the song adopted by he Labour Party for the 1997 election, where Tony Blair famously won a landslide victory after 18 years of Tory rule. Eventually, the volume of it is raised so high Sunak is, on more than one level, drowned out.
5.37pm
According to Gabriel Pogrund of the Times, Labour can’t believe Number 10 allowed this to happen.
One Labour insider texts: “Umbrellas are woke”
6.06pm
Good tweet alert!
8pm
A later Guardian article reports that Sunak greeted around a hundred Tory activists – still wearing the same rain-soaked trousers from the announcement.
No word at all on why he doesn't have aides capable of fetching him dry trousers. Perhaps those, too, are woke.
8.14pm
A Sky News reporter is at Sunak’s campaign launch. But, bafflingly, he’s forcibly removed. Extraordinary scenes
Elanor's Pro Tip: Removing a journalist may not be the best PR move for the start of an election trail.
8.27pm
9.36pm
A GBNews reporter claims that some Tory MPs are trying desperately to replace Sunak as leader in order to call off the general election. For this to work, they’d need a vote of no confidence before the dissolution of parliament on Thursday 30 May. Except actually, that would have to happen before the proroguing of parliament on Friday 24 May.
So … this won’t work. But how very incredible - and hilarious - that they’re trying.
10.39pm
Let's take a look at the evening headlines!
A great start to Sunak’s campaign, with newspapers - including the Tory giant The Telegraph - celebrating the triumphant launch of his campaign:
Well! WHAT a day! Let's see how Thursday goes.
Thursday 23 May
8.00am
The BBC takes a moment to gleefully throw off the shackles of political oppression of the last 12 years to reveal that Rishi Sunak's announcement of a July election, the single most important announcement for a sitting government, the most sensitive and vitally-timed event in their calendar...
Was a total surprise to the rest of the party.
Tory party MPs found out when we did that they were about to have to campaign again. For a snap GE. Three weeks after having just done it for the council elections, in which they experienced the greatest single loss of their councillors in history. Even the damn meeting agenda was fake.
Still. Perhaps this explains the lack of umbrella or trousers.
9.09am
Nigel Farage confirms he will NOT stand at the general election.
*pause for applause*
That’s because he’s helping Trump get re-elected in the US right now.
*pause for screams*
This is good news for the Tories! And the rest of Britain, actually (commiserations to America. Please shoot him). Farage’s right-wing populist party - Reform UK - is the spiritual successor to UKIP and the Brexit Party, who’ve been splitting the right-wing vote for years. Farage is popular; it’s bad news for Reform if he’s not part of their campaign, but simply fantastic news for those of us who think queer folks, women and people of colour deserve human rights.
9.19am
According to BBC News and others, Sunak has hired Isaac Levido, the election strategist behind the Tories’ landslide win in 2019. Levido knows his stuff, and advised Sunak to stick with an autumn election.
Sunak ignored this advice. Lol.
9.20am
In the Guardian, Sunak says there WON’T be planes of immigrants flying to Rwanda before the general election. Good news for those of us who think it’s monstrous to deport immigrants to countries with unsafe governments. Bad news for Tory voters who were hoping to get racists to vote for them.
Now, this is particularly funny, because promising to deport refugees to Rwanda in spite of overwhelming legal opposition on human rights grounds is probably the single hill that the Tories have chosen to commit genocide on. This bill has been in and out of every court in the land since they promised it in 2019. It's been on again off again more than a tawdry tabloid romance. But, they finally managed to push it through, and the first planes were set to fly in July.
This means! That Sunak's strongest cards going into the election were the drop in inflation, and the Rwanda bill. He could sell it as "In spite of those bleeding heart liberals, we persevered and managed to tenaciously get rid of these browns and thus fulfilled our promise", and the fact that it won't actually affect the immigration numbers wouldn't be clear until after the election. And make no mistake, it is VITAL that those planes fly before any election - quoth one influential Conservative MP on the right of the party to the BBC:
“I know what question you’re going to ask us again and again. "You’ll say we’ve been banging on about Rwanda for years and we’ve only managed to fly one migrant out there - and we paid him to go”.
It took a single day for that gamble to dramatically fail.
Lol. Lmao, even. One might almost say rofl.
9.21am
Sunak is emphasising his own role in managing the economy.
The Guardian’s Rowena Mason points out that it might be better to sell this as a Tory victory rather than a Sunak victory, considering how badly Sunak’s doing as an individual in the polls.
10.45am
I'm obviously giving a lot of attention here to the funniest and most ridiculous stuff, but let’s take a moment to celebrate some genuinely brilliant journalism:
0_o
The whole article’s worth reading. It confirms that at least one more hi-vis wearer was a Tory councillor in disguise (in this case Ben Hall-Evans). Perhaps this is why they started by removing all the real journalists.
12.42pm
Sunak’s campaign takes him to a brewery in Wales! He attempts some Bonding With The Working Man and asks the workers if they’re excited for the football.
Top tip: if you don’t realise the country you’re in hasn’t qualified for the Euros, maybe don’t even mention the subject.
6.55pm
... here is a new problem. Ish.
As mentioned, three weeks ago, England held local council elections. In that time, the Tories lost over half their councillors; an unprecedented and staggering loss in one event. We are all still bathing in the schadenfreude.
But, many of those then left the party (probably fairly, actually - monsters though Tories are, that cannot have been fun.) But, the way politics in the UK works is that when you vote, you don't vote for the party - you vote for your local representative, and then it's a numbers game as to which party gets to rule. This means, with this sudden last-minute possibly-impulsively-declared-by-one-soggy-madman election now six weeks away, those candidates all need replacing so that the Tories will have a shot at getting the numbers they need to form a majority government.
Channel 4’s Paul McNamara reports that Conservative HQ have emailed asking for candidates in almost 100 seats. The deadline’s tight for this – and apparently, joining the lengthening list of people who weren't informed of this stupid election plan, Tory associations are livid at being left so unprepared.
Now, a lot of these seats are Labour strongholds, so you don’t necessarily need more than a token Tory candidate for them. Phew! A great relief.
But some of them are actually good Tory seats. Uh oh! Basildon, Bury St Edmunds, Wellingborough and Rushden … It’s a bad hit to the Tories to have so little time to find good candidates for these seats.
8.59pm
Labour launch a campaign video. It’s long, but the message is, “Remember life before the Tories got into power? Wasn’t it BRILLIANT?”
And to prove how great 2009 was, they’ve included a clip of David Tennant’s Dr Who saying “I don’t want to go.”
Lol.
9.57pm
Filmmaker Richard Cubitt jokily suggests he could stand as a Tory candidate, and immediately defect to Labour as soon as possible once elected.
I don’t know if the deadline’s closed, but I am now speaking to the chat. Lads: the time will never be better. Do it. Tell the Tories you'll stand for them. Immediately defect. You have the opportunity to do the funniest thing. Be the rot in the barrel. The time is now.
ANYWAY. Oh boy. Day one of campaigning was quite bad. Ah well! Onwards and upwards for Wali Heb Broli. Let's see what Friday brings.
And of course: the losses are staggering (100 candidates!), but it could be worse.
At least it's not senior MPs.
Friday 24 May
7.00am
Over 70 MPs confirm they will not be standing for re-election.
7.35am
It’ll be lovely to see this election get rid of some truly awful Tories. But no need to wait that long! John Redwood stands down. I haven't mentioned him before, but let's look at his clownface eggshell.
He opposed reducing the age of consent for homosexuality in 1994 and 1999, he voted to keep Section 28 in 2003, he opposed same sex marriage, he voted to reintroduce the death penalty in 1988, 1990 and 1994, he’s argued against Greta Thunberg over the UK’s climate emissions.
Although English, he became Secretary of State for Wales in 1993, and at a Tory conference, had to mime badly to the Welsh national anthem which he hadn’t bothered learning. In 1995, he cheated Wales out of a £100 million grant by returning it unspent to the treasury, so it could go back to England.
So, John – if by some fantastically rare chance you’re somehow reading this – it’s wonderful to see you step down. I wish you a very warm fuck you. And I hope the rest of your life is absolutely horrible and filled with immeasurable pain. Kisses.
7.58am
Vicky Spratt of the i newspaper announces that, with an election announced, the Renters’ Reform won’t pass.
This is a big deal, actually - this was a rare good promise in the Tories’ 2019 manifesto to protect renters by ending no-fault evictions. A good promise! With cross-parliamentary support, only slowed as much as it was because most Tory backbenchers are landlords and so tried to block it. But the fighting raged on, and it was finally agreed.
And now it’s broken. Wasting months of work by stakeholders, and thus forming another election promise that would have sailed through if only the election hadn't been called for July.
8.09am
Jeremy Corbyn – remember him? Former Labour leader, who was expelled from the Labour party in 2020 – confirms he’ll be standing as an independent. He’s continued to be a member of Labour despite being an independent MP – but standing against Labour in an election means he’ll have his membership revoked too.
9.26am
So where are we at? How do you reckon the normal Tories in the party are faring? Do you think they're positive of a win? Do you think they expect to lose?
Great Guardian article here:
Highlights - one government minister happened to bump into his equivalent opposition member, and immediately thrust his official folder towards them, saying, “You might as well have this now.”
Another Tory MP hugged a Labour colleague and cast their arm around the room. “Good luck. This is all yours.”
One Tory backbencher was asked if it was a good idea to call an election. “It’s a disaster. I can’t understand it.”
Even when they’re being optimistic, the Tories seem a little glum. One long-standing MP said: “Of course I’m going to fight it, I don’t believe in just giving up like the prime minister has obviously decided to.”
A former minister raises an interesting point. It’s not long, after all, since the Tories suffered those major defeats at the local council elections. That's impacted the number of candidates, of course - but, local canvassing is largely done, on all parts of the political spectrum, but activist volunteers.
That loss was three weeks ago. If you were a volunteer who just spent weeks knocking on the doors of your neighbours and community, trying to convince them to vote for the dead horse, and then lost – maybe you won’t feel like hitting the streets again so soon. Maybe you'd prefer to be able to meet your neighbours' eyes when you bump into them in the bread slicing queue at Morrisons.
Some MPs have even admitted they won’t be cancelling holiday plans to fight the election. On top of that, there's over 70 MPs that have already confirmed they’re quitting and won’t be seeking re-election!!! Absolute scenes.
Interestingly, some anti-Sunak Tories report frustration. They reckon they were close to calling a vote of no-confidence, in the hopes of replacing Sunak with a different leader. No idea if this is true – and if true, whether Sunak knew it. But given the panicked speed at which it seems to have been called...
11.08am
The campaign takes Rishi Sunak to the Titanic Quarter, to be interviewed by Belfast Live.
Elanor's Pro Tip: if you’re the leader of a failing political party, maybe don’t let journalists interview you on a site named after history’s most famous sinking ship.
11.57am
How’s the campaign going, Rishi?
Oh, Rishi. Looks like someone else is not meeting anyone's eyes in the bread-slicing queue.
1.12pm
Politics UK reports that 75 Tory MPs are now standing down at the election – the same number of Tories who stood down ahead of the 1997 election.
2.49pm
Sunak’s campaign takes him on board an aeroplane.
Elanor's Pro Tip: if you’re the leader of a failing political party, maybe don’t be photographed in front of an exit sign.
7.07pm
MICHAEL GOVE ANNOUNCES HE’S STANDING DOWN AS AN MP!
I could honestly use that gif like seventeen times in this write up. You can all thank me for my restraint in choosing just one.
The 79th Tory to do so at this election – an all-time record exodus. Hey gang, would you like to see some familiar names joining him in this?
Theresa May
Sajid Javid
Dominic Raab
Matt Hancock
Ben Wallace
Nadhim Zahawi.
It’s just … not a great sign for the party, is it? That so many prominent MPs don’t reckon it’s worth sticking around.
7.50pm
Hey, remember those parody videos of Hitler getting angry with funny subtitles? Someone made a good Sunak one:
vimeo
10.48pm
The Guardian’s Kiran Stacey reports that Sunak will retreat from the campaign trail, spending the next day at home.
Honestly... that's probably best. Let him recover from the bread excitement.
10.50pm
We round off the day with Andrea Leadsom announcing she too is standing down as an MP. Bye, bitch.
WHAT A DAY! Still, Saturday will probably be better.
Saturday 25 May
12am
New episode of Doctor Who drops! It contains Welsh faeries. I later write a post explaining this. You're all welcome. Back to the circus.
10.06am
Good tweet alert!
11.14am
Keir Starmer promises to lower the voting age from 18 to 16 if he wins the election.
2.43pm
Hey remember how David Hameron was supposed to be in Albania? And actually went there? And then had to come back because of Rishi's totally-planned-for election announcement?
The Mirror reports that David Cameron spent £60,000 of taxpayers’ money getting to Albania for that trip. He was there for 89 minutes, before he had to come back in light of the general election announcement.
This means it cost the country £674 a minute for Cameron to be in Albania for about as long as it takes to watch The Lion King.
6.14pm
Labour and the Tories put candidates forward for 650 seats in a general election.
Of course, that's not quite all of them. The Times’ Patrick Maguire understands that Labour have only 13 candidates left to select, which is pretty good. The Tories are missing slightly more than that.
They need to find around 190.
(The number is rising. Chat, you know what to do.)
9.29pm
According to the Telegraph, Theresa May has said if she was still PM she would have used an umbrella to declare the election.
She probably would have, too.
10.11pm
Now then!!! Gather round boys and girls and all the rest!
Remember: the election was called based upon the following main cards in Sunak's hand:
The Rwanda bill
Inflation falling
The Renter's Reform Bill
Inflation fell, but not by as much as it should have. The Rwanda plan fell through a day later. The election itself has blocked the Renter's Reform bill.
Rishi needs a new set of promises stat, in order to shore up votes from his most important bastions of support. What can he offer?
The evening brings the answer!
At 10.11pm - note the time - in spite of having taken the day off, Sunak promises mandatory national service for every 18 year old if he wins the election. Either a year-long army placement, or a weekend a month volunteering for a year.
Sounds like a good pledge, if you’re hoping to motivate 18-year-olds to vote against you.
10.16pm
The Financial Times’ Jim Pickard reveals that the National Citizen Service (David Cameron’s legacy project) had its funding slashed by two-thirds in a 2022 review of government youth funding - when the chancellor was Rishi Sunak.
Five minutes. That’s how long it took a journalist to melt Sunak’s new pledge.
Still; Tories never let facts get in the way.
10.27pm
Politics UK reports that leaked documents suggest teenagers would be jailed for refusing this national service.
11.47pm
Sunak's bad ideas generator works hard, but the meme makers of the internet work harder:
Still. Sunday is a day of rest! Hopefully Sunday will be better.
Sunday 26 May
9.50am
Let’s check the Sunday tweets.
Starting to think whoever is in charge of optics for Rishi Sunak may be a Labour plant.
10.21am
Fantastic tweet alert:
I Agree With Gabby
3pm
And then... PLOT TWIST!!!
FT’s Lucy Fisher reports that Sunak’s national service pledge - including assigning up to 30,000 18-year-olds to the military - was rejected this week by one of his own defence ministers.
Defence personnel minister Andrew Murrison warned of a hit to morale, headcount and resources if “potentially unwilling national service recruits” were introduced alongside Britain’s professional armed forces.
EVEN THE ARMY DON'T WANT THIS.
6.47pm
And then:
Incredible story from Gabriel Pogrund of the Times.
St Paul’s School, if you haven't heard of it, is an expensive and famous private school in England somewhere (I forget where and don't care). As with other private schools, they’d be subject post-election to a Labour plan to remove their VAT exemption.
Tory MP Greg Hands took matters into his own Greg hands, and messaged the school’s parents’ WhatsApp group to try and drum up anti-Labour sentiment.
I can see the logic. These are parents with money, who have chosen to send their children to a private school that often means an easy track into politics generally and the Tory party specifically. I see why he thought he was safe.
Tumblrs, he was not safe.
Parents intervened, complaining about Hands spamming the chat, and claiming his use of the chat was “inappropriate”.
One parent messaged: “Can we stop assuming everyone is a Tory in this group. A return to more morality, less corruption and more social conscience in British politics is not something to oppose necessarily.”
Another expressed that some parents will “feel it is hard to defend private schools being vat exempt.”
Ouch. Swing and a miss, Greg Hands.
Anyway. New week, new campaigning. I am writing this on Tuesday, and so our tale is nearly at an end for now; so let's see what happened on Monday.
Monday 27 May (Yesterday)
7.40am
Britain's teenagers respond to the national service plan. I love this tweet and the video it reposts:
And here, for your viewing pleasure, is the video:
8.17am
Tory MP Steve Baker (more on him later) actually tweets a public criticism of Sunak’s national service plan. You might be thinking "Well yes, obviously"! But no! For you see, when approaching elections, parties need to be united. Divided parties generally find it harder to win elections.
Naughty Steve.
8.41am
Foreign Office Minister Anne-Marie Trevelyan, having seen the absolute shambles of Sunak’s campaigning, wakes up this fine Monday morn and invites him to hold her beer.
Appearing on Times Radio, she’s asked whether the parents of teenagers could be prosecuted if the teens refuse to take up national service.
And she doesn’t rule it out.
NO BUT WHAT THE FUCK. WHAT ARE YOU DOING ANNE-MARIE. IS THIS YOUR FIRST DAY OUT OF THE HOUSE.
Parents are NOT prosecuted for any wrongdoing of their ADULT CHILDREN. How do you not understand this basic legal concept. The answer to that question was “no”! You say “no” because it makes your party more likely to be elected, and you say “no” because the answer is no.
Oh dear. What a gaffe, as the papers say. Gosh, I really hope Anne-Marie Trevelyan’s gaffe stays contained.
8.56am
The Telegraph duly reports that parents of 18-year-olds might be fined if their children refuse national service.
Anne-Marie Trevelyan’s gaffe did not stay contained.
10.55am
Looks like the Tories are unhappy that the press revealed that Sunak took a day off from campaigning.
But that’s okay, they have a new strategy! Reported by Politico, they’ve decided to suggest that Keir Starmer is too old to be a good Prime Minister.
They called him “weary” yesterday afternoon;
Tory Party Chair Richard Holden says it’s “bizarre” for Starmer to rest at home the day before a speech (but not for Rishi to - ? You know what, never mind);
A Tory aide tells the Sun that Starmer should be dubbed “Sir Sleepy” (what a Zinger, as those conscripted into national service say);
Another Tory aide calls Starmer “Sleepy Keir” according to the FT.
Keir Starmer is 61 years old.
11.17am
Let's check Tory candidate numbers!!!
Now last we looked it was 190, but obviously, as this is possibly their most urgent priority, they've been working flat out and recruiting across the land and so they have, fair play, managed to reduce that number.
The Spectator therefore reports that the Tories have 12 days to select 160 candidates. Would you like to see the maths?
This means, on average, they need to select one candidate every 100 minutes. Which is slightly less time than it takes to watch Toy Story 3.
#ChatYouKnowWhatToDo
12.41pm
The FT’s Lucy Fisher reports that Tory HQ has accidentally sent out an email criticising Tory MPs for failing to campaign, and warning of financial concerns in some seats.
Cannot stress this enough: even if the Tory campaign was going really well and they were predicting a landslide their way, this would be a terrible blow.
5.02pm
The Mirror reports that Tory MP Steve Baker is on holiday in Greece. That’s pretty irresponsible, isn’t it? What does Baker have to say for himself?
"The Prime Minister told everyone we could go on holiday and then called a snap election. So I've chosen to do my campaign work in Greece."
… this is the greatest Tory campaign in history.
(And once again... when exactly did you decide to do this, Rishi?)
5.15pm
In an absolutely baffling move whose motives I still cannot entirely fathom, Tory MP Lucy Allan - a repugnant, malignant liar of a woman who once altered an email from a constituent so she could claim it contained a death threat against her - is suspended by the party, for telling voters in her ward to vote for Reform UK instead of the Tories.
...
...
...
...wwwhyyyyyyyyyyyyyy
6.18pm
Good tweet alert! Here's political journalist Jonn Elledge:
6.30pm
Meanwhile, a Tory chooses to contact journalist Theo Usherwood over WhatsApp, criticising the election strategist Isaac Levido:
Now this is particularly interesting, because Levido is the guy who managed to swing the last GE to BlowJo, even though Labour were riding high on Corbyn. And I don't know, maybe he is actually shit at this and all that was luck.
I just... wouldn't have said he was the reason for this one going the way it is. Necessarily.
Finally, let's finish off Monday with a last good tweet:
10.06pm
***
That's all for now, folks! Thank you for reading, enjoy the circus playing out this week!
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at first sight? — GOJO SATORU
pairing: gojo satoru x gn!reader
word count: 10k (idek i was possessed)
banner by @/bbyseok , dividers by @/bunnysrph !!
a/n: um hi. its finally here ! thanks to all who liked the teaser, this is my first jjk/gojo fic ever but i really think everyone needs some comfort after jjk chap 261.. and fuck u gege !!
content: soulmate au, gender neutral reader, minimal use of they/them pronouns for reader but gender is not specified, sorcerer reader, nicknames ‘sweetheart’, ‘pretty’, ‘baby’, fluff, mild angst with a happy ending, slowburn??, several pov switches, suggestive/implied nsfw at the end but nothing explicit, brief swearing/explicit language, brief violence/injuries, alcohol consumption, reader gets mildly drunk but nothing else, implied satosugu as past soulmates: can be interpreted as either romantic or platonic, fic takes place after jjk 0 but before the show starts
analysis: this is a world filled not only with curses, but soulmates—in which you know someone is your soulmate when you first make eye contact with them. but for your case, things can get a bit complicated when someone is wearing a blindfold.
here, in this universe, you can tell that someone is your soulmate by simply looking at them. so with that, the saying of “love at first sight” is actually pretty accurate here. you see them for the very first time and barely know the person and yet, somehow, they’re the one you’re destined to be with.
with that, you’d think it’d be pretty common for two random people to run into each other while crossing the street or something and bam! suddenly you’ve found the supposed love of your life!
and you? well, for you, that hasn’t happened yet.
to be fair, it’s not like you’re actively trying to look for your soulmate. handling curses as a jujutsu sorcerer is difficult enough. (maybe you’ll run into them one day after saving them from a curse or something. how romantic!)
it’s better to leave it up to fate. it’s fate who decided your pairing anyway, right?
your transfer to jujutsu tech had been fairly smooth. after being stationed in kyoto for a while, tokyo was a nice change of pace.
coincidentally, you had been out of the country during the incident known as the night parade of a hundred demons. a scary event that proved the threat of curse users to be formidable.
because of that, your decision to transfer to tokyo seemed like the right thing to do. and so far, it’s been decent.
it’s a nice change of scenery. the students are aspiring; while maki and megumi aren’t the friendliest, they’re warming up to you. toge and panda are gradually improving.
nanami’s pessimistic outlook on jujutsu society and shoko’s overall unenthusiastic demeanor are certainly interesting for the most part, but your coworkers are pleasant to be around.
well. except for one.
gojo satoru knows that you are his soulmate. he has indeed known this fact right from the very start, ever since your first meeting.
even with his blindfold on, he could see your own eyes before him. his six eyes can see everything. the thing is.. he didn’t know he could have another soulmate.
his situation with geto suguru is something he doesn’t talk about with anyone. maybe shoko at times, but even then, it’s rare. it’s not that he doesn’t want to, but it’s pretty hard to talk about.
after suguru defected, gojo could still obviously feel their bond. even though they were no longer together as the strongest duo, did it really matter when their souls were still connected to one another? it was a factor that played in avoiding (and perhaps meeting up with) each other as the years went by.
satoru felt their bond die that day after the events with okkotsu and rika. and it had frightened him. that lingering presence of the bond was no longer there.
so imagine his surprise when he sees you.
a new sorcerer in kyoto, now transferred to tokyo. normally, gojo doesn’t seek out the new recruits, but yaga had dragged him over regardless. besides, he might as well get to know his possible assistant teacher that would be helping him out with the new first years.
“i guess i can check out some new faces,” he relented with a sigh, adjusting his blindfold and looking to the side as yaga’s steps slowed as they approached you.
gojo rolled his eyes–not that you’d see it anyway–as yaga introduced you with your name and your sorcerer grade. he stopped to stand next to the principal.
you extended your hand to offer a handshake, and gojo finally turned his head.
that feeling as his gaze fell upon yours beneath the blindfold was familiar—frighteningly so—and unfamiliar at the same time. as if he could breathe for the first time in ages. your eyes are unaware, but they’re so revealing to him.
satoru stuttered in his movements, reluctantly taking your hand. the skin that touched yours felt like it was on fire. he briefly held on to see if you felt it too.
but you simply smiled up at him.
“it’s nice to meet you, gojo,” you said, blissfully unaware of the revelation currently dawning on the man before you and the turmoil it brought as he abruptly retracted his arm back.
gojo stiffened. he merely offered a curt nod before turning on heel and walking away briskly. he could faintly hear yaga protest about his sudden departure before apologizing to you hastily. satoru shook his head.
how was this be possible? how could the universe give him two soulmates? he didn’t even know that was a thing that could happen. he wondered if there had been a similar occurrence before.
gojo couldn’t help but feel nauseous. was this the world playing some sort of sick, cruel joke on him? or was it perhaps giving him a second chance?
and truthfully, it wasn’t like gojo even wanted another soulmate. not after what he had been through with suguru. he hadn’t given it much thought.
was it really worth it?
what if he couldn’t protect you too?
so satoru had decided on one thing that day: the blindfold stays on. concealing his eyes from the world not only for him, but for your sake too. he was certain in his choice; he would never tell you the truth.
as far as you were concerned, you haven’t met your soulmate yet.
and never will.
your first meeting with gojo wasn’t exactly unpleasant, but it wasn’t something you could describe as good either. you’ve been left with the impression that he’s cocky and indifferent.
and that he doesn’t like you.
it’s been around.. two? three weeks? it’s been a while since your encounter with the white-haired sorcerer, and you’ve only seen a few glimpses of him here and there on campus.
okay, he doesn’t display any outright mean or ill intention towards you. on the very rare times the two of you do interact, he is obviously curt and clipped. seems like he’s deemed you worthy of the only either nods or one word responses.
you’ve yet to actually participate in a lesson or mission with gojo, but you prefer it that way. providing individual training and advice for the upcoming second years has been going great. at this point, you’re sure it’d only be awkward.
besides, the strongest sorcerer alive doesn’t necessarily need assistance in dealing with curses after all. that much is understandable.
you’re currently in the teachers’ lounge room with nanami. even though he isn’t actually a teacher, he pays visits sometimes. he’s good company anyway.
“it’s nice to hear that you’re settling in well,” the blonde says with a nod. he loosens his necktie absentmindedly as he adjusts the newspaper in his lap. “especially with that gojo around. he can be a pain in the ass sometimes.”
you frown at the mention of the sorcerer, crossing your arms. you’re seated across from nanami, watching him idly look through the newspaper.
“oh, well, actually, he isn’t too much trouble. for me, at least,” you reply, brows furrowing, “he barely talks to me.” (in fact, he seems to avoid you like you’re carrying the plague or something.)
nanami looks up, raising a brow. “huh. you should be grateful then.” he then hums, “but maybe that’ll change once there’s actually new first year students to teach. you both are assigned to them after all.”
you lean back in your seat, your shoulders committing to a halfhearted shrug. “maybe. it’s not like i never did anything bad to him though..”
nanami sighs gruffly. “don’t think about it too much.” before he can continue, there’s the sound of footsteps. nanami brings his newspaper back up, muttering, “speak of the devil.”
“nanamiiii!” gojo’s voice sounds from around the corner. it almost startles you how lively he sounds. you realize you’ve never actually heard or seen how he acts without you around.
nanami doesn’t respond, rolling his eyes.
gojo strolls in enthusiastically, blindfold on. “heyy, nanami, we should-” he cuts off when he presumably sees you, falling quiet and stopping short.
you blink, a bit hurt. does he dislike you that much? but you don’t let it show, resorting to greeting him politely like you usually do when you occasionally pass each other.
“good afternoon, gojo,” you muse, offering a little wave.
nanami notices his reaction too, but doesn’t comment on it. he continues to ignore the sorcerer’s presence in fact, eyes still roaming over the newspaper.
gojo clears his throat and resumes his pace. “afternoon,” he responds, focusing his attention back on nanami. he reaches the two of you, giving you no further acknowledgment.
you don’t care if he can see you looking at him, you opt to stare at the black blindfold covering his face. you have a hunch that he can see, or at least feel, you staring at him.
“can i borrow you for a sec, nanami?”
nanami emits an exasperated sigh, but stands nonetheless to follow gojo out of the room for some discussion not meant for your ears apparently, leaving you alone with your thoughts.
do you make gojo uncomfortable? you don’t know what you could’ve possibly done so though. from what you’ve heard from the others, he can be rather eccentric and overbearing.
does he just not like you? perhaps he views you as inferior, too below his level and power to actually converse with you. while it seems a bit of a stretch, you’re sure it’s not out of the possibility also based on what you’ve heard about him from others.
your frown returns. before you can dwell on it any longer, nanami comes back into the room. “well, i certainly see what you mean from what you said about gojo earlier,” he announces.
his words do nothing to falter your frown. “right.” you then shrug once more, “it’s okay. it’s just a bit.. strange.” you then shake your head, trying to be a bit optimistic. “but also like you said earlier, that might change! who knows?”
who knows, indeed.
megumi tucks the cursed tools inside their designated box and closes the lid. he moves on to the next one right as gojo enters the shed, beaming a smile.
“hey, megumi. you almost done wrapping up things here?” satoru asks, undoing his blindfold naturally. there’s a pair of glasses in his hand ready for use.
the teen nods. they had used a few cursed tools during training session today, and the storage did need a bit of tidying up. “almost done.”
satoru makes a noise of approval as he places his glasses on. “great! do you need help setting up your dorm room?” he looks excited at the idea, still grinning.
meanwhile, megumi looks disinterested at his offer. “no thanks. i think it’ll be easy enough. it’s not like i’m decorating it anyway.”
“oh, boo.” but gojo doesn’t insist on it any further. he actually falls strangely quiet, which causes megumi to glance at him curiously.
his teacher looks.. distraught. it’s hard to actually tell, but he seems to be looking at the floor, maybe lost in thought. before megumi can say anything, gojo’s expression changes and he starts talking again.
“you’re, uh, with the new teacher for tomorrow,” gojo then informs. he shoves his hands into his pockets and kicks at the floor absentmindedly. (he’s fidgeting. subtly.) “it’ll just be you two, i think, on a small mission. so they can get used to actually working with students on field. it’ll be good for the both of you.”
megumi nods. he tilts his head afterward. “you can say their name, you know. it won’t kill you,” he says a bit pointedly, “and they’re not technically new anymore. it has been a few weeks now since they’ve joined the school.”
“right, right.” megumi’s face scrunches up as gojo’s hand comes down to ruffle his hair gently. (a habit that has not died since his younger days.) “whatever you say, megumi.”
despite your minimal interactions and his rather closed off demeanor, megumi is actually one of your favorite students. (and yeah, maybe you shouldn’t have favorites, but oh well.)
your mission with megumi, or rather, the mission you’ve been assigned to supervise the student on, is rather simple.
there’s been reports of a low grade curse roaming the premises of a supermarket neighboring a nearby cemetery, so megumi is to obviously exorcise it under your watch. the area has been closed off with a small veil. megumi had decided to check the parking lot first for any lingering traces, so here you are.
“i think we’re good here,” the teenager confirms as his demon dogs return to his feet, seemingly in the clear. you nod and let him lead the way towards the inside of the store.
as the two of you begin to walk down each aisle with one of the demon dogs trailing behind, megumi says your name in an inquisitive tone. “what do you think of gojo-sensei?”
the sudden question has you blinking in surprise. your eyes scan megumi as you both continue to trek down the aisle. “what makes you ask?”
“no reason.” he doesn’t meet your gaze.
you bite down on your lip in contemplation. you’re not sure what brings this question to mind for him, but you’re willing to indulge him for now. “well.. i think he’s.. alright.” you pause. “as a sorcerer, i admire his strength. though, i think a lot of people think that obviously.”
“and as a person?” megumi presses, turning to investigate the next aisle. he still doesn’t glance over to you, still preoccupied with searching for the curse.
(hell, for a teenager, he sure is perceptive.)
you choose your words carefully, thinking it over with a brief pause.
“i’ll admit, i don’t think i know him well enough to be sure. as a person, i think he’s.. self-centered and rude. sometimes, i see him act very carefree in a way. he’s.. obscure, i guess.” you clear your throat and reiterate, “but again, i don’t really... know him.”
you can see megumi go over your words silently. the quiet continues. the conversation seems to be dying, but it doesn’t matter when monstrous gurgling sounds up ahead.
a curse appears in front of you, the shelving of the aisles toppling over as it gargles some unintelligible roar. megumi doesn’t hesitate, using his technique to summon his demon dogs once more to swiftly engage in combat.
the fight is easily handled in three minutes top. (they weren’t kidding when they said it’d be easy.)
after the commotion has settled, you allow megumi to do one more check up around the store just in case. just as you are prepared to exit and bring down the veil, you decide it’s your turn to ask him now.
“and what about you, megumi?” you inquire lightly, giving one of the demon dogs a few head pats for their good work. “what exactly do you think of gojo?”
megumi hums.
“i agree with most of what you said actually,” he answers honestly, causing you to chuckle in amusement. the teenager tilts his head and finally looks at you. “but i also think he’s kind when he wants to be.”
his frontward honesty surprises you once more. this kid sure is something. you believe his words; he has no reason to lie to you, especially about gojo of all things. still, you poke at him teasingly, “really now?”
you don’t really expect him to answer, but then megumi says in a mumble so quiet that you nearly miss it.
“well, he did sort of raise me after all.”
“i just don’t think he likes me, shoko,” you puff out a sigh, watching as she puffs out smoke. “i’ve seen the way he is around other people, and he’s not like that with me.”
she’s on break right now, so you thought you could talk to her about a certain blindfolded sorcerer who’s been plaguing your thoughts.
it’s interesting to hear about the different sides of gojo satoru from your peers. from nanami, you’ve learned that he’s pretentious and troublesome. from megumi, that he can be caring in his own way. and shoko?
“he’s crazy.” the doctor waves her cigarette at you with a shrug of her shoulders. “but it beats me on why he doesn’t particularly like you.”
you groan, slouching in one of the chairs set up in the infirmary. “maybe i should’ve stayed in kyoto,” you mumble. it’s more of a joke than anything; your.. weird terms with gojo isn’t enough to actually deter you.
but shoko puts the cigarette back to her lips and tilts her head. “want me to ask him about it?”
you straighten your posture abruptly and look at her. “what? you don’t have to. he might think i asked you to or something.”
she shrugs again. “your call.”
your brows furrow. “maybe we just got off on the wrong foot somehow. even though all i did was shake his hand.” you snort. “maybe i can get him something to break the ice. what does he like?”
shoko doesn’t even hesitate. “sweets. he likes his sweets.”
oh. oh, okay! you blink and nod. who would’ve thought? the strongest sorcerer in the world likes sweets. “i can handle sweets.”
you, in fact, cannot handle sweets.
why are there so many? you’re at a local bakery staring at the rows and rows of pastries they have on display, looking as if you’re trying the decipher the world’s hardest math problem.
shoko never specified what kind of sweets he liked during your conversation with her a couple days ago. cake? ice cream? cookies? you might as well buy the whole damn store at this point with your luck. the last thing you want is to buy him something he won’t actually eat.
“oh, fuck it,” you mutter and finally decide on a small piece of cake. it happens to be your favorite kind of cake, but oh well. if he doesn’t like it, he doesn’t like it! it’s the thought that matters anyway, right?
as you exit the shop with your newly acquired dessert, you try to devise a way to give it to him. do you just.. hand it to him? or maybe it’ll be better to leave it in his office. or have shoko give it to him!
ughh, who knew how hard it’d be to give a man a cake? okay, okay. you’ll simply give it to him in person since he’ll know it’s directly from you. problem solved.
well, actually, problem is not solved. how are you supposed to give the cake to gojo in person when you have absolutely no clue where he is right now? after returning to the school, he’s no where to be found, so you eventually turn to yaga for help.
“he’s on a mission where??”
you stare at yaga with wide eyes as he names some city so far away you’re pretty sure you wouldn’t be able to find an affordable ride to get you there in a reasonable amount of time.
“oh, alright,” you say, feeling a little disappointed. the cake suddenly feels a little too big and heavy in your hands.
the principal’s gaze flickers down to your little intended treat for his former student. “these kinds of missions are no trouble for satoru. i’m sure he’ll be back soon, so you can leave that in his office.”
you brighten up at that and nod. “thank you, yaga.” you then dismiss yourself with a polite bow after he informs you where gojo’s office is exactly, and you start to make your way there.
it’s only a few minutes until you get there. you open the door and catch sight of a desk. it looks rather plain, which is understandable since it doesn’t seem like he uses this space often. (though, there is a chair that looks more expensive than your entire rent.)
either way, you walk inside and set the container down on the desk with a small sigh. hopefully the gesture is appreciated! if he really does have a sweet tooth like shoko says, you’re not sure why he’d turn it down. again, you can only hope.
you sigh again and turn to leave when the sound of the door creaking open sounds again. you freeze in place when it swings out fully, revealing the very man you were thinking about.
(yaga was not kidding when he said that gojo finishes his missions pretty fast.)
gojo perks up at the sight of you in his office, and even with his blindfold on, you can tell he’s got a surprised look on his face. “can i help you.. or do you have a reason on why you’re snooping around in my office?” he inquires, walking in.
while not evidently hostile, his appearance and words suddenly have you anxious. “oh, well, i-’’ you want to mentally smack yourself for fumbling over your words. “i’m sorry for intruding. i, uh, just wanted to leave you a little something.”
it’s only then does gojo look past you and makes a small noise. you can’t really decipher it, but you watch as he walks by you to open the small packaging to see the slice of cake meant for him.
and when he makes a small noise again, you can tell it’s one of delight. “you got me.. cake?” he asks, looking to you again questioningly.
“i did,” you clarify with a small nod, summoning a small smile and rubbing the back of your neck a bit sheepishly, “i didn’t know what kind of sweet you would like, so i just ended up choosing my favorite cake. um, i really hope you don’t mind the flavor, but if you don’t you really don’t have to eat it so-”
“kikufuku.”
you stare at him, confused. “what?”
“kikufuku,” satoru reiterates, and it’s his turn to smile. (it nearly catches you off guard because although very small, it’s pretty.) “s’my favorite. or.. one of my favorite sweets. crepes are good too.”
his newfound friendliness has you smiling a bit more evidently, pleased that this interaction is your most pleasant one with him so far in the weeks you’ve been here. “oh, okay,” you chuckle, “noted.”
gojo opens the container and unwraps the plastic fork that had came with it. he takes a bite of the cake and hums in approval. “can see why it’s your favorite. it’s not bad.”
your face lightens up at that. “oh, i’m glad.”
he hums, popping another slice of cake into his mouth. “any particular reason on why you’ve decided to give me cake, if i may ask?”
you falter once more, now nervous in telling that you’re hoping to.. resolve this one-sided tension with you. ultimately, you decide to be straightforward, inhaling deeply and looking at him. (well, his blindfold.)
“well, i’m not an idiot, gojo. you haven’t exactly been.. friendly to me. i’m not trying to win you over or anything, but if we’re going to work together with the first year students, consider this a gift for a truce. or um, a peace offering so we can act somewhat decent with each other.”
the white-haired sorcerer falls silent at your confrontation. you’re half expecting him to brush you off and walk out of the room entirely. especially since he seems to have stiffen up (similarly to the way when you first met, you had noticed).
he seems to contemplate for a bit. you don’t know where he’s looking at; the floor, the cake in his hands, you? it’s suddenly nerve-wracking.
“you’re right,” he finally speaks up, “i.. i’m sorry for my previous behavior towards you. can we start over?” he places the cake aside and walks back over to you to hold out his hand.
“gojo satoru.”
your eyes flicker to his blindfold to his hand, then back to where his eyes are hidden underneath. the rumored powerful and breaktaking six eyes concealed from your ever so curious sight.
against your better judgment, you repeat your name and take his hand.
“it’s nice to meet you, gojo.”
your new relationship with gojo is steadily becoming better. he’s no longer curt with you, and actually engages in conversations even with no other people around.
though, you can’t help but feel like he’d avoiding looking at you for some reason. which is pretty far off since you can’t technically see where he’s looking, but it’s a hunch you have nonetheless.
but hey, it’s progress, progress that you’re somewhat happy about.
like now, as satoru leans over your shoulder to peer at the clipboard in your hands. you’ve just finished wrapping up a lesson with the soon-to-be second years out on the field.
“ooh, what’s on the agenda for tomorrow, teach?” he pries.
“assistant teach,” you remind him teasingly, going over the contents of the clipboard. “more sparring. oh, and the registration for that new first year.”
“the one from the countryside?” gojo hums.
you nod. “yep. a.. kugasaki nobara. we won’t actually get to meet her, but arrangements for her arrival are getting finalized.”
“oh, boo. s’just more paperwork,” the sorcerer beside you whines, kicking at the grass.
“at least megumi isn’t the only one now,” you point out and finally turn to him.
just as you expected, satoru glances away to look at panda and toge finishing up. you squint at him narrowly but don’t comment on it.
“that’s true. not like that kid cares anyway, but it’ll be good for him,” gojo agrees airily, shoving his hands into his pockets.
you eye him. “hey, gojo?”
“yeah?” his head remains turned to the students. (further proving your point! you feel like you’re collecting evidence here; the gojo satoru cannot look at you in the eye!)
you hesitate. “wanna grab some kikufuku?”
he perks up at that. (like a puppy, really. it almost makes you laugh.) “mm, whatever happened to not trying to win me over with sweets?” he teases.
you laugh at that then, shaking your head in soft denial. “no- that’s not what i-”
“well, you did said kikufuku.." satoru interrupts you with a dramatic sigh and heave of his shoulders, “so how could i ever possibly resist?”
satoru doesn’t dare to look down at you.
“care to join me?”
but you smile up at him cheekily, and he hates the way the sunlight is hitting your features just right. it looks like the color of your eyes is glistening.
you’re just.. lying down on the grass of one of the training fields, admiring the drifting formations of white clouds on the blue canvas that is the sky.
satoru keeps telling himself that shouldn’t be doing this. his first mistake was accepting your cake. allowing himself to get closer to you. but when you look at him like that, he feels like he can do anything. which is odd, becaues really, he can do anything. it goes without saying as his status as the strongest.
but with you, it’s starting to feel a bit different.
when he doesn’t give you an immediate answer, you tilt your head and continue to blink up at him. “you can see the sky even with your blindfold on, right?”
he snorts. “yeah, i can.”
you pat the space on the grass next to you welcomingly, a beckoning that he just can’t resist again. “well, come on and join me,” you persist.
he hesitates, shifting his weight on his legs for a moment. against his better judgement, he joins you. it’s surprisingly comfortable, he finds, as he kicks out his legs and sighs.
it’s a comfortable silence that it’s almost startling. how easy it is just to be around you. (which is the exact reason why he had been avoiding you in the start, in fear of slipping up around you. he still might.)
“you get headaches, right? if you don’t cover your eyes.”
he chuckles at your question. “yeah.” it’s a half truth, half lie. he does get headaches, but for another reason now. you can’t get out of his head. (he’s got a suspicious feeling it’s because the soulmate bond is incomplete. but again, that’s just a theory of his.)
“‘m’sorry. that sucks.” you pout subconscously, still looking up at the sky to admire it.
he scoffs fondly, clapsing his hands over his stomach. “it’s no biggie. you think headaches can take down gojo satoru?”
“hey now, tough guy. they can take down me sometimes.”
(he’d fight off headaches from you if he could.) his heart is thudding against his ribcage, warning him. but he doesn’t heed the warning, and continues to lay down with you on the grass.
it’s a nice feeling. he doesn’t feel like the greatest sorcerer in the world with his colleague. it feels like he’s just satoru, pointing out the different shapes and animals you can spot in the sky with his soulmate.
“hey, that one looks like you!”
“hah?!”
“i’m guessing you and gojo-sensei are getting along now,” megumi bluntly comments.
it catches you off guard slightly, and you can’t help but laugh. (of course he had noticed how the both of you interacted from the beginning.) “oh, uh, yeah.”
and as you watch satoru go down the steps of the stairs to head over to you both whilst waving an arm with much more enthusiam than needed, you can’t help but smile.
“yeah, we are.”
this is a mistake. he shouldn’t be doing this.
but satoru can’t help but be so selfish, selfish in indulging in your looks, in your scarce touches. when you had confronted him with your peace offering as you had so called it, he had given in.
and now he’s spending more time with you. be it after lessons with the students, on random days where you have nothing to do, during weekends when there’s no authorities to bother him—he can’t help it.
was it the bond wanting to be complete? you were still unaware of his true identity, of what he could possibly mean to you, so why does he feel like he needs to be so close? he gets antsy at times when you’re not in his sight. it’s starting to affect him.
the soulmate bond, or lack of it—that has to be the only explanation for it. because he knows that you’re his soulmate, he’s subconsciously drawn to you and your presence. (it’s definitely not because he likes the way you smile, or laugh, or-)
fuck.
after a relatively tough mission, you’re obviously sent to see shoko. you’re not fatally harmed, maybe a scratch here and there. and okay, maybe a gash on your shoulder..
it had been enough to sort of knock you off your feet, but you’re fine. totally. exorcising a semi grade two curse at 1 a.m. in the morning was no biggie at this point.
once she’s finished tending to your wound, she dusts off her hands and places them on her hips. “you’re all set.”
you smile gratefully. “thanks, sho. can always count you to patch me up.”
she snorts. “well, it is my job.”
gojo suddenly appears right next to the table and you yelp, startled by his teleportation. shoko, on the other hand, looks unfazed, as if she’s used to this.
“gojo!” you blink, your voice taking a scolding tone soon after, “geez, you scared me! what’re you still doing awake??”
the blindfolded man falters, looking apologetic. “sorry. heard you got back from your mission.” he sounds worried, but before he can voice his concern, shoko rolls her eyes.
“they’ll be fine,” she says.
gojo’s shoulders finally drop down and he plays off his previous display of concern with a laugh. “ahaha, yeahhh, i knew that,” he scoffs with a wave of his hand, “i can’t bless you two with my presence?”
shoko gives him a displeased look before she turns around to tidy up her tools. you chuckle at her annoyance. “thanks for checking up on me, satoru,” you say sincerely. your eyes go over his appearance; he’s dressed more casually: a pair of dark slacks and shirt that expose his collarbones. not that you’re.. particularly looking.
but his shoulders seem tense again at your words and he hums quietly. (huh, strange. at least he’s not refusing to look at you anymore, you think.)
“well, i say this calls for a little celebration,” satoru suddenly purrs in delight, waving his hands in the air.
“celebration? for me getting kinda beat up?” you blow a raspberry at him, only for him to blow one at you right back. even though you had done it first, you can’t help but giggle at his childish antics.
he grins at that, then shakes his head. “heyy, i heard you beat up a semi grade two curse!” he says, “i think that does call for a celebration, does it not?”
you stare at him, unsure on whether he’s joking or not. wait, how did he even know that? well, maybe he had gone through the mission reports and assignments. still, you’re surprised that he knows. “you can wipe those out in less than a minute, gojo,” you point out with a raised brow, “don’t try and humor me.”
his grin lessens. “well, yeah, s’kinda easy for me, but i think that goes without saying. you’re telling me don’t wanna celebrate an accomplishment of yours?”
you look to shoko who is almost finished with cleaning up. she just shrugs. you look back to satoru and shrug yourself whilst rolling your eyes. “alright, we can celebrate.”
gojo fist bumps the air. and here you are again, giggling at him.
eventually, when he leads you out of the infirmary and to the teachers’ lounge. he digs through one of the fridges and hands you a bottle of what seems to be alcohol.
“i didn’t even know this was allowed here,” you mumble, settling down on what of the high chairs near the counter. you wiggle in your seat to get comfortable as gojo takes the one next to you.
you offer it to him but he shakes his head, nose scrunching up a little. “i don’t drink.”
“wasn’t this your idea?” you blink. “suit yourself, more for me.” you shrug and open the bottle to pour yourself a glass. and another. and another. and then another.
(you don’t know what particularly drives you to keep drinking as you talk with him, but perhaps it’s the way you know that satoru’s eyes are lingering just underneath the blindfold. you can practically feel his stare.)
and gojo watches you gradually drink yourself to being mildly drunk.
“okay, no more for you,” he laughs as he takes the bottle away from you and holding it above your head when you try to reach for it.
“awh, man.” you pout and rest your head on your arms on the table, looking at him the best you can. “you meanie. you got me drunk on purpose. give it back.”
he snickers, amused and endeared by your drunk antics as he pushes the bottle aside. “sorry. you’ll thank me later, pretty.”
pretty. he’s never called you that before. you wanna hear him say it again. (amongst some other things.)
“pretty.. you’re pretty. i bet your eyes are pretty too,” you say into your sleeve, your other hand reaching out to his blindfold, “everyone else says they’re v’ry pretty.”
he leans back to avoid your hand, heart pounding in his chest a little too loud for his liking. he wonders if you can hear it. “sure. i guess they are,” he says softly with a small chuckle.
“i wonder who my soulmate is,” you then mumble out. maybe it’s the alcohol, maybe it’s your incoherent slurring, but you sound.. sad.
before he can dwell on it, you’re slurring out another question that has come to your head.
“d’you have a soulmate?”
satoru’s eyes widen under the blindfold. he knows that you’re drunk. that you’re just saying things. but your hazy eyes stare up at him with a glint that makes his heart lurch.
and you won’t remember a thing in the morning, right?
before he can answer, you’re out like a light.
you wake up in the morning with a splitting headache.
with a groan, you sit up in what seems to be a bed that seems way to be to be your own, legs kicking the sheets that had been draped over you in alarm.
you have no idea where you are, but there’s a glass of water along with some painkillers on the nightstand beside you, which you down gratefully. there’s also the smell of food coming from outside the room.
you can piece two and two together that you’re probably in the home of someone you know.. your brain racks for information of what had happened last night but it’s only causing it to ache even more.
gojo.
you shake your head and make your way to what seems to be the bathroom to tidy yourself up. you notice that your’re still clad in your clothes of last night, so gojo had done the courtesy of tucking you in.
after you’re done, you take a deep breath and head outside.
you navigate your way down the hallway and follow the smell of food. as you turn the corner, you catch the sight of satoru in the kitchen. not that you doubted that the greatest sorcerer could cook, but for some reason, he looks so domestic.
he’s simply wearing sweats and a loose fitting shirt, your back turned to you as he tends to the stove, but the mere sight of it has your heart leaping into your throat. you have a feeling that it’s a sight meant for you, for you to see.
you don’t no how long you stand there, but suddenly a laugh rings through the kitchen from satoru teasingly. “take a picture, sweetheart, it’ll last longer.”
you yelp, embarrassed. (sweetheart? you try not to think about it, but you hate the way it makes your heart leap again. he’s just.. messing with you.) “erm.. sorry. good morning, gojo.” you approach the kitchen and take a seat at the counter.
when he finally turns to you, he’s not wearing his usual black blindfold, but instead what seems to be white bandages. you haven’t seen it on him before, but you don’t comment on it though.
he says good morning back before serving you some food, which you thank him for gratefully. “thank you for the painkillers too. i didn’t do anything embarrassing last night, did i?” you inquire, half jokingly.
you try to remember what had happened last night, but your memories are still a bit hazy. all you can recall is talking with him about things and staring at him. (you’re not going to tell him that though.)
“nah,” he waves off, “just told me your darkest secrets, s'all.”
you straighten up. “what?”
“kidding, kidding!” he snickers.
you groan and drag your plate to you. “i didn’t know you could cook.”
satoru looks mildly offended, emitting a dramatic gasp as he waves the spatula at you in a petulant manner. “hey now, i’m no expert. but i can at least make some sort of breakfast.”
(he totally did not look up a tutorial on how to cook for you. definitely not. but he’s a natural at everything, so at least his naturally gifted skill is in his favor this time.)
“thank you, gojo.” a smile tugs at the edges of your mouth.
“satoru.”
“what?”
“c’mon, you’re literally eating breakfast in my kitchen,” he laughs, sliding a mug of coffee (probably with extra cream and sugar because it’s gojo) towards you across the counter. “satoru’s fine.”
you test the name on your tongue, paying little attention to the way it makes the man before you stiffen up as you grab the coffee. “satoru.. thanks, satoru.” you think you can get used to saying that.
(he does too.)
satoru turns away back to the stove. “you’re welcome.”
“hey satoru, what did you say what you wanted again? i’m thinking bubble tea but i dunno..”
he likes the way his name sounds from you.
“uh, satoru? satoru? helloo, earth to gojo satoru? satoru!”
oh.
fuck, he hadn’t realized he had spaced out. gojo lifts his head in a sudden motion, making a surprised noise. he smiles sheepishly. “what’s up?”
“you feeling alright, satoru?” you tilt your head.
keep saying his name.
“awhh, i’m feeling more than alright, sweetheart.” he shoots you a grin, liking the way your eyes reflect the café lights, giving it a warm hue. “i’ll have whatever you’re having.”
“you seem to be in a good mood lately,” megumi points out. ijichi, in the front see, looks at the two of them through the rear view in silent agreement.
(a lot of people have noticed actually.)
gojo pauses, halfway through unwrapping the plastic of a popsicle. it’s the same one he used to consume during his youth, but his taste really hasn’t changed after all this time. “oh?”
the teenager eyes him narrowly. “yeah.”
gojo merely hums and pops the icy treat into his mouth.
“heh, i guess i am.”
you can hear gojo and shoko’s voices coming from the infirmary, causing you to smile absentmindedly. you didn’t think you’d be enjoying their company this much in the recent months—especially satoru’s.
(strangely, it feels so natural to be around him, you can’t help but wonder if he feels the same. you try to write it off as spending so much time together for a while now, but you can’t lie when you say he doesn’t make the stomach churn with butterflies.)
you turn the corner and announce your presence to the two with a smile and wave. you catch sight of them when they glance over to you, noticing something different.
shoko is wearing her usual white coat with a cigarette in hand, but she’s got her hair tied up in a rare bun to keep any strands from her face.
but that’s not what’s different as your gaze strays to the man next to her, the familiar frame of gojo catching you a bit off guard.
he’s wearing his glasses.
you’ve never seen him wear anything but his blindfold.
how does he look even more breathtaking than without it? you can’t see his eyes still, no—it’s a deep, deep shade of blue that still blocks his gaze from anyone else. but it’s a more casual look, seeing as his hair isn’t being help up and a few strands fall down and you can see his sharp facial features a bit more and-
and then he’s gone.
you audibly make a sound of confusion and hurt, because one moment he’s there and the next he’s no where to be seen. he had vanished without a single world.
he’s fucking avoiding you again; the realization of it makes your throat close up. after all you had been through with satoru.
“what the fuck was that?”
shoko stares at the space gojo had just been standing, just as lost as you.
there’s a distance between the two of you again. it’s painstakingly familiar to when you had first met gojo and he had kept himself strictly professional with you.
and you don’t know why.
it’s back to the cold shoulder from him; you’re seeing him less and less around campus, and those times where you did hang out off duty are practically a thing of the past now.
satoru is going to be the death of you one day, you’re sure of it.
and you and satoru aren’t even.. a thing.
then again, you’re not even sure what you are. you’re friends, yes, that’s much more than clear, but why does it feel so much more intimate than that despite the fact that the two of you have never even done anything?
however.. a part of you knows that you want more. more of those days lying in the grass with him, more of those mornings eating breakfast with him in his home, more of those afternoon café runs, more of everything with satoru.
is that why does it hurts so much now that he’s pushed you away again?
satoru is praying that you’re not in there with shoko as he approaches the infirmary a week later. she had called him over, and though he could’ve easily refused, he found himself obliging anyway.
“hey, what was that the other day?”
shoko is blunt and straight to the point once he arrived, striking him with a petulant and expectant gaze with her tired eyes.
gojo blinks innocently, tilting his head at shoko. “what was what?”
shoko then rolls her eyes. “you know what i’m talking about. what was that. you just- walked out like they we’re going to kill you or something.”
that’s the thing. you just might.
the white-haired man frowns and continues to feign innocence. he’s starting to wonder why he bothered coming here. “i have no idea what you’re talking about.”
his avoidance causes shoko to frown as well and she crosses her arms. “you’re doing the same thing that you did with them when they first joined here.”
when he doesn’t say anything, she continues, “avoiding them, pushing them away. i thought you didn’t have any problems with them. at this point, make up your mind because you’re just toying with their feelings and it’s not going to-”
“we’re soulmates,” satoru blurts out.
shoko is cut off, staring at him all wide-eyed for once. “you’re kidding.”
satoru falters. “i’m not. s’why i always wear the blindfold. and that’s why i.. i ran last night. just my glasses was too risky.”
what if he had angled his head the wrong way, what if you saw his eyes, what if you finally realized that you were fated to be together at the whims of the universe? he couldn’t do that to you.
“how long have you-”
“since we first met. i.. i could see it because of six eyes,” he explains, running a hand through his hair. “i don’t know why. i didn’t think i could have another one after-”
the two fall quiet at the mention of suguru, a heavy feeling hanging in the air between them.
“what are you going to do?” shoko asks quietly.
satoru sounds wrecked. “..i don’t know.”
“well.” shoko smushes her cigarette against the surface of the metal table. “you better do something before it’s too late.”
unfortunately, the higher ups have also noticed.
(the push and pull that has been going on between the pride of the gojo clan and a random transferred sorcerer from kyoto. nothing goes unseen by their tight hold on jujutsu society.)
and you are none the wiser when you’re an assigned a mission late so at night, at a secluded edge of tokyo. you would’ve questioned it, but after looking over the details, it seems easy enough since it was a low level curse.
ijichi drops you off near the location and bids you luck. the night is dark, with the shape of the moon only peaking out every now and then due to the clouds to offer minimum light, and then the veil is coming up.
it’s fine though, as you start walking to get this over with. the faster, the better.
what the fuck? the cursed energy here is much stronger than you had anticipated, almost as if it’s suffocating. now uneasy, you continue your search with more caution.
a low growl sounds from somewhere behind you, and you turn on heel to brace yourself in case the curse decides to catch you off guard with an unexpected attack.
your heart drops.
it’s a grade one curse.
something’s not right.
satoru can feel it. he can sense it in the air. something is lingering, a presence that makes even him feel uneasy, and he doesn’t know why. nothing makes him feel uneasy. but it’s a gut feeling, it’s the bond tugging and tugging and-
you.
something’s not right.
and then gojo is teleporting and finding ijichi in record time, giving the poor man a scare. gojo’s voice is on edge and leaves no room for argument as he demands the assistant director where he had driven you minutes prior. the veil still stands, undisturbed.
fuck, fuck, fuck- shoko was right. he should’ve done something before it was too late, because now it might actually be too late as he steps through the veil.
it’s too quiet for his liking, but the lingering silence only lasts for a few heartbeats before he hears you scream.
you’re going to die.
you don’t want to think that, but you’re definitely not going to make it out of this unscathed as you dodge the curse’s scarily accurate attacks, as if it knows where you’re going to move and land.
the curse screeches out something ugly, and you’re too stunned to react in time as one of its malformed limbs swings down with a speed that you can’t comprehend.
your throat cries for help even as the air out of your lungs, but then there’s the sudden brilliant flash of red that blinds your vision.
satoru?
you can’t see and your body aches everywhere while the sounds of the curse fade out. it’s replaced by the sound of someone speaking frantically. it is satoru as he crouches down at you, hands coming to lift you up gently. his infinity is off. “hey, hey it’s me,” he voices, “it’s me, sweetheart.”
satoru, it’s satoru. satoru is here.
you emit a sigh of relief, cloudy vision gradually focusing. you try and focus it on satoru, tracing over his features repeatedly, trying to engrave it into your memory.
“shit. those damn higher ups,” gojo grits his teeth into an angered scowl. the higher ups? were they behind this? you don’t know, but you know that you’ve ever seen him this furious before. “i am going to rip those old geezers apart limb from li-”
“satoru, we need to head back.”
he looks dazed, tufts of snowy hair now hanging a bit loosely over his blindfold compared to when it’s normally pushed upright. he even sounds dazed, the great gojo satoru, when he says, “yeah. yeah, okay.”
he’s holding on to you tight and suddenly everything seems to get blurry for less than a second before you blink. you realize he’s teleported you both not to the school, not to shoko’s infirmary, but to his penthouse.
the interior is at least familiar: white walls, a little messy, a couple of decorations, and—
“my place,” he clarifies, as if he had read your thoughts. he sets you down on his couch, uncaring if you’re staining the color of the cushions. but he doesn’t let go, hands still cradling your form so tight that you don’t know if you’re still shaking or that he is.
“are you okay?” you utter out weakly and scan him for any injuries while clutching at his arms, which is ridiculous because he’s untouchable. but you’re not in the right mind right now, and you have a feeling he isn’t either.
“i should be the one asking you that,” he retorts, and you also have the feeling he’s doing the same thing with you with the help of his six eyes.
“i’m alright,” you try to reassure him with a small shake of your head. it only aids you in wincing, but the pain is the last thing on your mind. especially with him here. “it’s fine.”
“it’s not fine,” he argues, his hold tightening even more on you, if that was even possible. is that a slight tremor in his voice? “you almost died.”
“and why do you care?” it’s not a malicious question from you. it’s more of confusion, of genuine. after all you’ve been through with satoru, you’re not sure where he stands. what he feels.
he seems startled by your question, like he can’t believe you could ask such a thing. “of course i care! why-”
you clench your fists in your lap, eyes tracing over his face repeatedly. “i don’t know what you want anymore from me, satoru! you’re not- you’re not telling me the truth.”
“i didn’t want to hurt you,” he tells you hoarsely. god, you wish you could see what he’s thinking. what’s going on in that head of his.
“you did hurt me.”
gojo trembles. “i know.”
“you seem to know a lot of things.” your voice sounds tired. your hand goes to rest on his chest, where you can faintly feel his heartbeat underneath. (oh, to be the only one who can touch gojo satoru like this.) “what are you hiding from me?”
“i can’t hide anything from you.” he draws a slow intake of breath. he then whispers,
“but how am i supposed to tell you that we’re soulmates?”
your heart skips a beat.
gojo satoru is your soulmate?
astonished, you now stare at him with wide eyes. “why- why didn’t you tell me??” you ask, voice cracking. to think, all this time, your soulmate had been right there, right beside you, right in front of you.
then it all clicks. his off-standish behavior, his reluctant interactions, his avoidance. his blindfold. he didn’t want you to see his eyes.
he’s known all this time somehow—and oh, oh. his six eyes. your lips part in realization as you stare hard, as if you could see his damned eyes beneath the cloth that hides you from the truth.
“i thought that if you knew that we were soulmates, you’d-” satoru shakes his head. “something always happens to the people i love.” he hesitates, “you still have a chance. you can find someone else.”
“what if i don’t want someone else??” you say out softly in protest, gripping the lapels of his uniform.
gojo shakes his head again. despite this, he doesn’t let you go. like he can’t, like he doesn’t want to. “we’re not bonded yet,” he says your name shakily. “please.”
still gripping the collar of his uniform, you tug him closer to you desperately. it’s so clear, so obvious that he wanted this.
“satoru, have you thought about what i wanted?” you breathe out, feeling tears well up in your eyes, “that maybe, there’s a chance that i want to take the risk? that i want to be bonded to you?”
your eyes flicker down to his lips momentarily. “that i want you too?”
satoru’s breath stutters.
“you haven’t seen my eyes.”
you cup satoru’s face in your hands, swiping your thumb under the space where his eye is hidden with a fierce tenderness that makes him listen.
“satoru, i didn’t need to see your eyes to fall in love with you.”
your confession has him stilling.
(all the times he had stiffened up in your presence, he had been falling for you, bit by bit. you know that now.)
his hand comes to cover yours, the one that’s still resting on his cheek, fingers smoothing over your knuckles. and then his hand continues to go up, up, up, and-
he tugs the blindfold up and over his head, revealing his eyes to you at last.
his eyes are gorgeous, a blue that seems to spill into your vision and take over your senses. a blue that you can get lost in, a blue that reminds you of the summer sky, a blue that tethers your soul to his, and you both can feel it.
the bond between you is so electrifying that you nearly forget how to breathe.
and then satoru is surging forward, closer, even closer, until your breath is his and you forget how to breathe for a whole different reason entirely.
he’s kissing you.
he kisses you like you might disappear right before him, his head angling into yours to capture your lips with a force that makes your world spin.
and you return it tenfold, one hand still cradling his face while the other sneaks to dig its fingers into his undercut, and he’s making a noise into your mouth with fervor.
you’re all too aware of his heat against you, the frantic touches he’s now giving into as he draws you closer. the surface of the sofa dissipates into nothingness and then-
suddenly he’s teleporting you both again—or maybe he’s kissing you dizzy. but you realize you’re now in space that’s not overly familiar with you, but you can tell it’s most likely his bedroom based off of the feel of the lush satin sheets underneath you.
less than an hour ago you were fighting for your life, and now you’re fighting for your life on gojo satoru’s bed.
“satoru, s’toru, wait-” you’re gasping for air, for something as he engulfs you with his presence. he’s everywhere all at once, and it feels as if the bond is intensifying everything he’s doing to you.
“nuh uh. think we’ve both waited long enough for this, baby,” he gasps against your lips, like it’s impossible to be separated from you again, “don’t know how much i wanted this, wanted you. drove me crazy.”
his words makes your head all fuzzy. you don’t even know if it’s the bond anymore, or just the way he makes you feel. maybe even both. your lungs feeling like they’re burning, but even then, you manage to get out,
“you have me, ‘toru, you have me.”
“yeah?” when he pulls back, it’s not even a few inches, his nose brushing against yours. his alluring eyes glimmer in the darkness of the room, and you’re almost so mad that you feel like kissing him again because he’s kept them from you for so long.
your hands hook over his neck again. when your fingers run over his undercut again, you can actually feel him shiver, causing you to giggle in delight. “yeah, ‘toru.”
“yeah, pretty,” he sighs out and he’s losing himself in everything that is you once more so willingly. your eyes, your very being, compels him to give you everything, so he does. “y’have me too. all of me.”
his confession rings through your ears before he’s kissing you again, kissing you breathless. it’s a blur on what happens next; feverish touches and passionate symphonies, but one thing’s for sure,
the magnetic glow of his eyes in the dark of that night is something that you’ll never forget.
as your stir amongst the tousled bedsheets, you can feel the warmth of a certain someone creeping over you, like a cozy cat searching for cuddles.
your eyes peer open to meet the blurry sight of the ceiling, along with the sight of messy white hair tickling your chin.
“good morning to you, sweetheart,” a voice says cheekily, followed by cascading kisses down your jawline, prompting you to giggle softly.
you watch sunlight spill over into the bedroom, engulfing the man above you in an angelic glow as he finally pulls back to look down at you.
so maybe you didn’t fall in love at first sight with gojo satoru.
that’s okay.
cause as you stare up into your soulmate’s pretty ceruleans in the morning light, you think you can fall in love with him like this a little more.
BONUS!
“you owe me.”
nanami drags a hand over his face as he digs into his pocket for his wallet. “this is the first and last time i make a bet with you,” he grumbles.
shoko merely smirks. “you have such little faith in gojo.”
“bet or not, can we go back to before they were together?” nanami looks like he’s close to investing in a pair of one of gojo’s glasses that can block any normal person’s vision.
satoru is clinging onto you like a sloth.
“babyyyyy,” your boyfriend whines, resting his chin on your shoulder with his arms wrapped around your torso. you can’t help but giggle, endeared by his clinginess. (he had claimed it was to make up for the way he had acted in the past and for lost time.)
he’s like another part of you now. not that you mind. being his soulmate is everything and more—from the tender touches to the passionate ones, to the talks of everything: to the mundane to the serious. after all, your soul is his, and his soul is yours.
(and then his hands are sneaking off to places they shouldn’t be.)
“‘toru, not here!”
nanami heaves out another sigh as his hand comes to pinch the bridge of his nose. “is it too late to quit being a sorcerer again?”
TAGLIST : @spn-obession , @deepestartisanhumanoidshark , @scarasw1f3 , @kalopsia-flaneur , @90s-belladonna , @peachipeachy , @chrystinaamanda , @kalulakunundrum , @hunnyheavenn , @dekusdante , @dontmindmelove , @cherries-lostgirls , @rv19 , @etherealstarlightqueen
+ a/n: this fic ended up being way no longer than i expected omg.. but thanks to all who asked to be on the taglist !! some didnt work so im sorry about that </3
like this fic? feel free to go ahead and check out my other works here! -> masterlist
#gojo x reader#satoru x reader#satoru gojo x reader#satoru gojo x you#gojo satoru x gn!reader#gojo x gender neutral reader#gojo x gn!reader#gojo x you#satoru x you#gojo satoru x reader fluff#gojo satoru x you fluff#satoru gojo x reader fluff#satoru gojo x you fluff#gojo x reader fluff#gojo x you fluff#satoru x reader fluff#satoru x you fluff#gojo satoru x reader angst#gojo satoru x you angst#satoru gojo x reader angst#satoru gojo x you angst#jjk x reader#jjk x you#jujutsu kaisen x reader#jujutsu kaisen x you#jujutsu kaisen x gender neutral reader#jujutsu kaisen x gn reader#my writing#rain’s writing
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can you please do a carlos friends to lovers? no smut, i can’t find carlos fluff. reader attends all the races & carlos is secretly obsessed with her & lando helps set them up?
a/n: had a lot of fun writing this one!!
♡♡♡♡♡
You and Carlos had known each other since you were little children. Growing up in Madrid next to the Spaniard had been the highlight of your entire childhood.
Carlos had always made sure he had time for you, even between his karting races and training, he never felt to make sure you knew he didn’t forget about you, that you were still his best friend and no distance could change that.
Your friendship continued well into your adulthood, well into his career all the way from karting to Formula 1. Albeit, due to the fact that you also had a stable job back home in Madrid and were building your career, you guys saw each other less and less. Settling for phone calls, texts and FaceTimes, you still felt like something was missing.
You missed all the times that you would hang out together on the balcony of your home, drinking wine and talking about anything and everything. The laughter booming in the air, reverberating against your chest, the gentle lingering touches shared between you that you both ignored, knowing it was for the best.
It wasn’t until Carlos signed with Ferrari that things changed.
He had called you as soon as he had got out of the meeting with the team, excitedly telling you about everything that he was promised, what the next season would look like for him after he departed with McLaren; he didn’t miss a single detail.
Yapping about how excited he was for the future, but also how sad it would be for him to not be teammates with Lando anymore. But the sentence that he kept repeating every time you two would talk broke your heart every time: “I wish you were here to experience this with me”
It broke you every time he would say it, the same longing that he felt amplified 100 times over for you. You loved him, more than you sometimes cared to admit, and certainly more than you would ever have the guts to tell him. You had loved him for a while now, but loving him from the shadows and distance was taking its toll on you.
Which is why you all but jumped at the opportunity he offered you to go along with him, attend the races and celebrate with him. He had claimed that he couldn’t bear thinking about the future if you wouldn’t be there, next to him, cheering him on and comforting him whenever needed.
He needed your stability and comfort, he needed to feel you there with him, no longer settling for phone calls while being on opposite sides of the world.
It wasn’t fair, and he wanted to change that.
And so, you packed your bags, smoothed things over at your job and got on the plane, and met him in Singapore. It wasn’t the best race to choose from for your first, the heat and humidity in the air hitting you like a ton of bricks as soon as you had stepped foot out of the airport.
But seeing him waiting for you, leaning against the side of his car, it made everything worth it. He hadn’t even seen you coming before you completely blindsided him and threw yourself at him, wrapping your arms tightly around his tall frame. You both sighed in relief, the feeling of each other finally back together not being able to be compared with anything else.
“I can’t believe I’m really here” you had blurted out, suddenly afraid that it was all just a dream and you would wake up soon enough.
But hearing him chuckle, feeling his chest booming with laughter, you knew it was real. He was there, right in front of you, hugging you like his life depended on him. And for him, it did. He had spent so much time away from you, being deprived of your presence for longer than he would have liked. And now, when he had you right in his arms after so long, he finally felt like himself again, like he had just found the missing piece of his puzzle.
You spent the night catching up, even though you had been talking on the phone the entire time you had been deprived of each other, he still needed a night of talking to you, drinking wine and forgetting about everything else in his life besides you right in front of him.
Entering the paddock had felt more exhilarating than you would have ever imagined. The roaring of the engines and the teams preparing for the races, the screaming of the fans and every interviewer trying to get a word with the drivers. It felt as exhilarating as it felt absolutely nerve-wrecking.
“Are you okay?” Carlos asked you once you had made it to the garage.
You nodded, the smile seemingly not wanting to leave your lips. “I’m good, this is exciting” he smiled at that, nodding along.
He left you alone for a while, going over to speak to his race engineer before the race. You had stayed in place, only admiring the garage you had seen so many times on TV, now standing right in the middle of it.
When he came back, you noticed he had brought Lando with him.
“Y/N, you remember the Lando I told you about. Lando, this is my best friend, Y/N” Carlos introduced the two of you, coming to stand by your side.
“It’s very nice to meet you, I’ve heard many great things about you from Carlos” you said, smiling at the younger driver who shook your hand.
Lando greeted you back, eyeing the way Carlos was standing next to you and looking at you while you and Lando spoke.
You and Lando clicked right away, you now understood why Carlos loved the Brit and spoke so highly of him. You found yourselves a new hobby by poking fun at Carlos, who seemingly internally regretted introducing you to each other.
As the time to get in the car grew nearer, Lando bid his goodbyes and returned to his garage, only one thought in his mind.
I need to get Y/N and Carlos together by the end of the weekend.
♡♡♡♡♡
Carlos didn’t know who to thank first for winning the Singapore GP. Should he thank God for finally giving him what he had wanted ever since the start of the season? Should he thank the team for finally managing to beat Red Bull and win? No. He didn’t do any of that first.
He went to you.
He found you in the sea of mechanics and family members that had run out at the barriers, ready to welcome the new winner into their arms. But he didn’t seem to notice anyone else apart from you.
Scooping you up in his arms, his only focus was on you and the feeling of you in his embrace. He couldn't put into words how thankful he was that you were there with him, witnessing this win that the whole team had worked so hard for. The entire season had culminated into this win, and you were there to witness it.
“I’m so proud of you” you whispered once he had lowered you to the ground, his arms still tightly holding onto your arms.
He mumbled something incoherently in your shoulder, but you paid it no mind. You could only focus on him, the feeling of him slumping and relaxing against your body like he always did.
Unbeknownst to you, Lando had been looking at you two ever since he got out of his car, smiling mischievously under his helmet while walking towards the two of you.
“Sorry to interrupt, but you might as well stop torturing yourselves and just kiss already” he said, making you and Carlos pulled away from each other.
Before either of you could reply, he turned around and left, walking over to celebrate with his team.
Turning around to face each other, not a word was spoken between the two of you, but your eyes were telling a whole different story. You didn’t even think as you stood on your tiptoes and pressed your lips against his, so many years up buried and pent-up feelings finally being free.
The entire team cheered once they noticed what was happening, but you and Carlos didn’t hear anyone else around you. It was just the two of you in that moment, in your own little bubble.
“We should have done this years ago” he mumbled against your lips, making you laugh.
“Yes, we should have”
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#imagines#oneshots#fanfiction#one shot#formula 1#formula one#f1 fanfic#f1 imagine#f1 x reader#f1 fic#scuderia ferrari#carlos sainz junior#carlos sainz jr#carlos sainz#carlos sainz x reader#carlos sainz imagine#carlos sainz fluff#carlos sainz fic#carlos sainz drabble#carlos sainz blurb#carlos sainz x you#carlos sainz 55#carlos sainz x y/n#cs55 x reader#cs55#cs55 imagine#cs55 fluff#singapore gp 2023
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Azul: MC...
Azul: My "poor" friend...
Azul: How are you? 🥺
Chubby MC: Mf I see what you did there.
Azul: I know you are having a difficult time right now, so I am trying to cheer you up.
Chubby MC: Don't try when you're not good at it.
Azul: 🙄
Azul: Anyway, where are you? I texted Jade and he said you went out for a walk.
Chubby MC: Yeah. And looking for a job too.
Azul: You still didn't get a job?
Chubby MC: I got one, but I'm looking for a second.
Azul: Why???
Chubby MC: My house has been invaded and I want to move out.
Azul: ...
Azul: Is the situation really that bad?
Chubby MC: I don't like seeing couples in my own house.
Azul: Fair enough.
Azul: Hey, why don't we talk on the phone?
Chubby MC: So you can use your hands to sign contracts?
Azul: Yes. Texting is decreasing my productivity.
Chubby MC: Yeah, sure.
Jade: *is stalking MC*
Vivienne: It appears they are not aware of their surroundings.
Jade: ...
Jade: Why have you come here? Didn't I explicitly instruct you not to leave the house?
Vivienne: I'm worried about you. *nonchalant expression*
Jade: My, that's a waste of emotion.
Vivienne: It's not if it's you, Jade Leech.
Jade: *not amused*
Chubby MC: Damn, I'm standing in front of the supermarket now.
Azul: How long have you been walking?
Chubby MC: Am I supposed to measure that?
Azul: Hmph.
Chubby MC: Should I go inside or not?
Azul: You should. I'll send you money.
Chubby MC: No need. I have money here.
Azul: Huh? You haven't started working in your new job yet.
Chubby MC: Yeah.
Azul: Then who did you get your money from?
Chubby MC: Vivienne.
Azul: ...
Azul: Why?
Chubby MC: I don't know. Maybe payment for staying in my house?
Azul: So you're accepting rent now?
Chubby MC: Can't I?
Azul: Well...
Chubby MC: Ah, I'm buying seafood. Oh, the octopus is on sale.
Azul: ARE YOU FUCKING SERIOUS RIGHT NOW?
Chubby MC: It's begging for its life.
Azul: I hate you!
Chubby MC: *didn't buy anything and went straight home after teasing Azul*
Chubby MC: I'm going to bed early.
Jade and Vivienne: *waiting for them at the entrance*
Chubby MC: ...
Jade: *smiles warmly* Welcome home.
Vivienne: Hm. You didn't buy anything.
Chubby MC: Yeah, because it's not my money. *returns it to her*
Chubby MC: If you'll excuse me, I want to go to bed now.
Jade: How about dinner?
Chubby MC: Go serve your wife. *then walks inside*
Jade: ...
Vivienne: ...
Floyd: Beluga-chan?
Floyd: Beluga-chan~? Are you sleeping???
Chubby MC: *was messaging Floyd, but fell asleep immediately*
Floyd: Hehehehe~ Good night, Beluga-chan~.
Vivienne: *holding their phone* They're close to Floyd Leech too.
Jade: *snatches the phone from her* That is an invasion of privacy.
Vivienne: ...
Vivienne: Aren't we both invading their privacy?
Jade and Vivienne: *individually decided to enter MC's room*
Jade: Oh, but I have their consent.
Vivienne: Huh. How convenient.
#twisted wonderland#twst chubby mc#twst jade#twst oc vivienne#twst azul#twst floyd#twst chubby mc x jade
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soulmate give away
What made the bllk boys realize you might be their soulmate.
Do you believe in soulmates ? To be fair, sometimes, some signs can be considered as dead giveaways that you and he are meant to be.
super shorts hc, gender neutral with isagi, kurona, shidou, rin, kaiser and barou. fluffy ig ?
ꕥ
Isagi: You reached for the same ice lollie flavor at the same time. The weird, grandpa, unpopular flavor mind you. He thought that if one person had to have the same quirky preferences as he did, it had to be his other half.
Kurona: You had the same childhood plushie as he did, but it’s not a popular brand, so he found it scary, he definitely thought this was a sign from the universe that the two of you were meant to be.
Shidou: You always say the same things as he does at the same time as he does. Obviously it happens often. But with the two of you ? It happens a LOT and for precise things and it’s not even like you spend too much time with each other… It’s almost freaky.
Rin: You have the other half of a very curious rock he found once. He picked it up because it was really pretty and appealing somehow, only to find out that you have basically its other half, or at least a rock that looks suspiciously similar to his and fits perfectly in.
Kaiser: You are physically connected to him. As in, you make the same movements at the same time, look aways at the same time, blink in synchronicity… Maybe it's because you and him were made from the same star.
Barou: You appeared in a photo he took years ago. When he was in Tokyo, he took a pic at the red Eiffel tower thing, and there you were in the background, back when you didn't know each other and didn't even live in the same city. Imagine how shocked he was to realize you had crossed paths so many years before.
ꕥ
pfff i wish i was consistent with my writing but i hope i make at least another human being happy with this post... Anyway read blue lock. It was quick to write which i like, giving me a break from a bigger isagi writing that i'll post soon >v<
This isn't that good but if you wish me to do specific characters, i'll do it with pleasure !
#blue lock#blue lock x reader#blue lock headcanons#bluelock#bllk x reader#blue lock imagines#isagi yoichi#isagi yoichi x reader#isagi fluff#isagi x y/n#isagi x reader#barou#barou shouei#barou x reader#barou imagine#isagi imagine#kurona#kurona ranze#kurona x reader#kurona imagine#kaiser blue lock#kaiser imagine#micheal kaiser#kaiser x reader#blue lock kaiser#shidou ryuusei imagine#shidou ryuusei x reader#shidou ryusei#itoshi rin x reader#itoshi rin x y/n
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Me Espresso.ᐟ
Ellie thinks coffee tastes disgusting, but you taste delicious.
Do u guys get my fire references in here, hope you babes enjoy 🍽️
Band!Ellie Bsf!ellie college!au
Hot summer nights while having your knees digging your weight into the carpet floor of your best friends small dorm room was starting to become weekly routine. Making band tees with cheap markers for her band that had its fair amount of supporters, somehow they’d sell out every time they performed. It was probably because there’d only be like 20 shirts that actually looked good enough to put out for sale.
Sitting next to you was Ellie with half of a bun she struggled to keep it together had some strands fall out and onto the back of her neck. You could smell the perfume on her, you convinced her to buy it that one time she’d agreed to come shopping with you. Wanting to be helpful you had to show her the right way to wear it, by spraying it on your wrist to then rubbing it into her collarbone, just to be helpful of course.
Holding up a finished shirt Ellie grins into the cocky face you’ve gotten to love the look of,
“Oh they’re gonna love this,”
“what your 300 Spotify listeners?”
“Ouch,” Ellie looks at you playing heartbroken to then throw the shirt right at your face. It was always banter like this, with the very few times the lines almost blurred to get somewhere further. Staying away gets harder when being with her was so natural.
“Just for that I’m so not coming to your concert tomorrow.”
“Hey hey hey I need my number one fan there, plus we’re getting ice cream after.”
You’d become a groupie to her, always front lining to every concert she was able to catch a venue in, which were basically all bars. When she’d look below to you under the neon lights playing guitar it felt like such a special moment only between you and Ellie. No crowd no other band mates, as if you knew what she was thinking of and that she wanted you too. Some of your plans started to circle around her now that she was being a bit more discovered.
”You aren’t going to talk to your fan girls?”
“Nah, I’d rather spend my time with you. You know?” Staring at each other awkwardly stopped being so awkward when they’d happen so much, it’s was perfectly normal.
And with opportunity you got to be with Ellie you already knew you’d take it. As little as you knew she was wrapped around with whatever you had been involved in too, stuck and feeding off your sweetness like a bee.
June.21.24
Just like every concert you shared your special moment, no one else can say they had Ellie’s direct attention during multiple songs. This time it was more of an outside stage with sand below you. Yellow hued string lights draped above the stage and more along the audience area. The heat was really getting to Ellie, making her glow from sweat. The black T-shirt she picked out only made her condition worse. The face framing bangs she cut herself were sticking to the side of her face.
She wasn’t even singing, but being under your watch scorched her hotter. To save herself from embarrassment she mainly looked down to her guitar playing notes, but she made a mistake looking at you when a lyric of a song she made with you in thought came up.
Tell me you never wanna lose me
Cuz I know when you call you call for me
She might’ve been a little out of it when helping writing the song, but it became too late when Dina saw the scrunched up paper and kept insisting on making it an official song for a newer album.
To you it was just another lyric that was written by anyone but Ellie. If only you knew how much she relates to your desperation to be with you in every way and any position she could. Whether your batting of eyelashes at her was intentional or not her finger slipped making an unplanned squeak slip through.
‘Fuck this is so bad she probably thinks I’m shit at playing now’
Lucky for Ellie it was the final song anyways and she could get far away from the crowd and you. Other people clapped upon their leave and when they finished their set list you knew exactly where to meet her.
”You ever going to do more than eye her when we’re up there?” Dina was putting away the instruments back to take home with help from Jessie.
“What are you even saying I don’t do that,” Ellie scoffs then sits down on a blue deflated bean bag that who knows how long it’s been in this back room.
“Oh you know what I’m talking about, your friend zone is taking longer than your time with Cat.” She crossed her arms waiting for another excuse to why she hasn’t done anything after a continued semi dating friendship since freshman year.
“She’s nothing like Cat that’s why, if I lose feelings for her after getting rejected that’s one thing but losing her completely because I fucked it up is different.” Her constant fear of never getting to be near you again because of some feelings she couldn’t stop screwed her over with overthinking everything.
In her journal it was the same thing, “She liked my shirt today, I don’t want to look weird and over wear it now, but not under wear it now. Unless she’d like to see it more often or maybe she likes my style in general she’d like me in anything?? Fucking hate this gay stuff and whys it so hard.”
One of the two large metal doors swings open with you appearing, with the smile you wore she had engraved into her mind with a hot rod of metal after sketching you a few more times she’d probably ever admit. Ellie got up and cut the short distance and accepted you into her arms trying to not look like a desperate looser that flushes over a simple hug. Her ears clammy hands didn’t make her look exactly so hot and relaxed though.
“You did amazing El’s,”
“You think so?” She lit up into a smile under your praise, no matter how many times you give it to her mind melts.
“Except for the part where she messed up on the bridge.” Ellie shot a quick mean look at Jessie, but he just turned a cold shoulder before turning away.
“At least I didn’t bump into Dina’s drums 10 times,”
While Ellie kept bickering back and forth with Jessie she still held onto you, this felt like an opening to try at doing something.
A kiss on the check seemed harmless and innocent enough to take back in the case Ellie thought it was totally disgusting. Raising your head up towards her cheek nearing the corners of her smile, pressing your lips to a pout Ellie brought her face back in your direction landing the small peck on her lips. Ellie locked in place while you pulled away, not that you wanted to, but felt too embarrassed to start a kiss you didn’t know how to finish.
“El’s ‘m so sorry, you just moved out of nowhere and-“
“No, yeah mistakes happen, it’s chill or whatever,”
Her shit faced expression wasn’t helping the full pink flush saturating deeper on her face. Ellie lowered her head to wipe the bottom of her nose trying to forget the way your lips felt, your lipgloss was still sweet on her and so was the taste of it on her tongue wiping her lips clean.
Now it was your turn to feel scared and conflicted. It was too silent in the room even with the chatter of everyone else doing their own things outside. Taking back the small kiss wasn’t so easy now that it was done and got taken up a notch further.
She dropped her arms from both of your sides, looking away from you because looking at you right now felt like looking directly into the sun.
“Ellie you should start up the car we’re done here,” Jessie throws the keys at her giving her a slight knowing look to let her go and collect herself back together.
She didn’t even say anything, walked away without a goodbye or convincing enough reassurance that would calm your nerves.
“I’m gonna go home too, see you guys.” You were left with only your actions to think about. Ellie’s response to an accidental kiss made her ran away in the other away how could’ve you imagined it going any of other way? Feeling guilt and shame were the only emotions you could feel, rethinking the crush you’ve denied yourself from paying attention to and that it should’ve stayed that way.
Instead of paying attention to the kiss Ellie let her actions drive themself, not wanting to think at all. Until she hit herself with the car door, why did I act so grossed out? Making different scenarios of how it could’ve played out a million times better she thrust the keys into the ignition.
She dug out her cracked old red iPhone from her butt pocket and threw it into the passenger side. It hit something else than the leather seat, one of the lipglosses you always carry around abandoned alone. Ellie reached for it and saw the shade label, Glassy Expresso.
It sounded like the taste in her mouth from earlier, a taste you stole from her too soon. Unscrewing the lid she contemplated just trying it on. My lips are dry anyways, she swiped the applicator across her lips twice to get an even coat and rubbed it in with her lips. Some of it slipped onto her tongue, again. If only the taste of you could come along with the gloss.
Lmk if you guys want a pt.2♡🍒
#ellie williams x reader#ellie williams x you#ellie x fem reader#ellie williams fanfiction#ellie williams#ellie x you#ellie williams fluff#ellie x reader#ellie tlou2#tlou2#lesbian
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curled smoke and gossamer clouds
an au in which you and cooper howard get snug as a bug in a rug inside a photo-booth at the county fair.
pairing : cooper howard/afab reader
word count : 1.3k
warnings : sentimental horniness, finger banging in a confined space, desperate grinding, light praise kink, cooper being a genuinely kind, suave motherfucker. 18+, mdni
writing tag
gif credit
divider credit
The photo-booth is a snug fit, perfect for two adults enjoying an evening straight out of their youth. You taste like cotton candy and he smells like cigarettes. A contrast that melts into one another smoothly, painting a picture of curled smoke and gossamer clouds.
His words are spun sugar in your ear, your laughter hoarse and secretive in his.
“‘Member the first fair we went to?” Cooper reminisces, tracing circles along your abdomen.
Your initial pose is looming, so you stare at the lens, anticipation for more (always more) of him beginning behind your ribs and spanning your limbs.
You make sure to smile before you answer, the timer moving faster than the leisurely pace at which you like to experience these moments.
Outside, you hear muffled conversations and the buzzing of insects. It’s industrious farm land and the pleasures of city life combined. An eight o’clock hue beneath the curtain. Summer.
Every day is a summer’s night with Cooper Howard.
“God, I was so nervous,” you finally reply, and the deep rumble of his own laughter tickles your backside.
His thighs flex. As they distract you, pressed so tightly to yours that they’ve started to stick, one of his hands slips through the dense humidity to caress the front of your hip.
You twitch. He grins, award-winning. Your heart demands an encore.
“Scared outta your wits by a harebrained ranch hand, were ya?” he teases, peppering kisses along your throat, the shell of your ear. Right where you feel the thunder of the ocean.
The second photograph captures your full-tooth smile, glancing toward the floor, his smirk buried in your throat.
“Who is this harebrained ranch hand you’re referrin’ to? Because I distinctly remember a very determined teenage boy who excelled at everything he put his mind to. Hell, you even got me t’talk. Remember how mousy I was?”
Your speech warms him, igniting a flame, a match struck by fingertips grazing the sinew of your inner thigh. You inhale as if sparks flew directly from its tautness. He speaks against your straining tendons, watching you swallow.
“I can still make ya squeak, darlin’,” he purrs, nuzzling the bridge of his nose into you. A fever passes on to the sweet softness of your lower belly, fluttering like the wings on the other side of this maroon curtain.
In retaliation, you roll your eyes and your hips, hard. Cooper groans, his other hand sliding upward toward the curve of your swathed breast.
“‘Sides, y’weren’t mousy. Jus’ selective. I felt pretty damn lucky y’chose t’have me in your winner’s circle. You were always someone I wanted t’impress.”
You sigh contentedly: charmed, transported, as the third picture snaps.
“Coop,” you breathe, lips ghosting his. He lifts the hem of your dress, its airy texture silken against the heat dampening your skin. “You’re a naturally impressive person. Never had t’try so hard.”
He roams the length of your body, squeezing you, dipping lithe fingers between your clenched thighs. Your underwear is like a glistening veneer of dew blanketing early morning grass. His dull nails split your supple folds through the white fabric, stroking you lovingly.
The gaze you’re met with is rife with affection, adoration, ardor. Witnessing how you unfurl within its grove; how alluring you appear, how beautiful he is; causes your stomach to seize. It clamps down around everything and nothing and suddenly thaws.
The tranquility of winter, then the newness of spring.
You moan quietly, tenderly. All for him.
He stiffens underneath the pressure you provide, solidifying the more noise you make, the more you squirm.
“I wanted to.” Cooper’s voice echoes that smoker’s rasp, an amorous break. “I already told y’that. I want to. For you- ain’t that what you want? A fella who aims for your sky an’ doesn’t miss a single speck?”
Instinctively, you swallow him whole with your outstretched pupils. He lulls and stimulates you, grip on his pant leg firm, yielding, firm, yielding.
He finds specks you neglected to name. Reaches somewhere beyond the pines and hits the overwhelming enormity of space. Somehow, he makes it seem attainable.
“I want you, no matter what sky you’re aimin’ for.”
The fourth and final still is as intimate as a carnation fastened to the lapel of a school boy’s jacket, restless as he waits for his prom date at the bottom of the stairs. Dodging scrutinizing glances from her parents. Complexion reflecting streaks of sunlight as he follows her descent, standing straighter, shoulders pinned behind him.
There’s no one else in the room.
You have your arms around Cooper, drawing him closer until whatever gap remains is filled entirely with avid mouths and Elysian Fields. You live and die as many times as you devour and bring him back, returning hungrily to the parting of his lips while he delves between yours.
“Well, right now,” he grunts against you, accelerating, shifting, sneaking digits inside your panties. “I’m fixin’ for you t’cum. All over this pretty, pretty dress.”
He slots a finger beneath one of your straps, eluding the shawl decorating your shoulders, and playfully snaps it against your kindled flesh.
“All over me.”
Words are trapped in your chest as you nod. Anticipation and longing hang in the expanse of tongue and cheek, lingering like a raw scratch in the throat.
You whimper, almost wounded, as he massages your panty line, pinching and fondling the elastic like he hasn’t already made an incredible mess of you. Like you aren’t about to be ravaged inside a very small, very public photo-booth.
You are his sole focus as he ultimately succumbs to your shared desire, jaw clenching and pointing toward the ceiling while staring you down the heavy lids of his eyes.
Panting, you spread as wide as limited room allows, scuffing one of your kitten heels on the ground below. It scrapes along solid surface, sending tremors up your calf toward the tingling of your scalp, pulled by the roots.
He nods out of encouragement, mouthing whispered praises of that’s it, baby, that’s it, dulcet tones making you wetter, your release steadily building.
Like he’s aiming for.
Holding you stable, Cooper’s opposite palm fastens to your lower back, clutching you, feeling the rigidity of your spine bump into his fingertips. Added weight shoots directly to your cunt, squeezing his middle and ring finger, coaxing a breathless moan from his lungs.
“Fuck. Yes. Gettin’ close. C’mon, sugar. Gimme somethin’ sweet t’taste.”
He throbs beneath you, undulating, thrusting the littlest bit upward. You salivate at the mere imprint of his intoxicating arousal, giving him friction as you rock back and forth.
Driving him deeper inside, his thumb swirls your clit and you dip backward, exposing the slender column of your throat.
Seizing the opportunity, he sinks his head into your open, thrumming chest, cleavage cushioning and hardening him further. Fingers work faster, applying ample pressure that gathers in your belly and blossoms, stemming to each and every inaccessible part.
Your strangled gasps, both of you attempting to keep these matters private, blend and bleed together as your orgasm plunges outside of you, gushing all over the digits that gradually still.
Cooper doesn’t wait for your heart to cease its racket. He leans away and leaves you empty, a stream of restrained essence draining from you and onto his lap.
He pops fingers into his mouth, one by one, including his thumb. Humming satisfactorily, he samples them like he’s on his fourth course. Then he offers you to yourself.
You observe him past a rose-colored haze, cotton-candy film. Gripping his wrist, you bring his center digit to your lips first, wrapping your tongue around its length, moaning as the salty summer air of you brushes your senses. Tar from his cigarettes mingle with what you originally picked up on, easing in like banter on a date.
Cooper reminds you that he loves you. Loves watching you enjoy yourself. Loves being the cause of it.
You return the sentiment, reluctant to untangle your body from his. You’ve already tangled up this booth much longer than necessary.
You are, however, excited to see how the pictures turned out.
#cooper howard#cooper howard x reader#the ghoul#ghoul#fallout#walton goggins#my writing#oneshot#curled smoke and gossamer clouds#SCREAMING INTO THE VOID#dexter’s mom from dexter’s lab voice MY PRE WAR COOP FIC IS COMPLETED!!!#god i hope i got his voice i hope you like it#feedback is always appreciated 🥹 tysm!!!
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paranormal / opposites attract
san yawns as he walks into the dining room, shirt still untucked and tie hanging loosely over his shoulders. in his right hand is a mug of coffee and in his left a pile of mail. he takes a sip, passing the envelopes to an already immaculately dressed hongjoong. you hear seonghwa sigh as he pushes his chair back, standing gracefully before making his way over to the butler. the tired man doesn’t even question it when seonghwa spins him around to finish dressing him, although you do catch him send an irritated looking glance to the werewolf who can’t help but snicker at the scene before him. in yeosang’s eyes its fair game; he too had been dressed by seonghwa before breakfast, as had you.
you reach over to steal a strawberry from hongjoong’s plate whilst his attention is focused on the letters in hand. he barely spares you a passing glance as you pop the fruit into your mouth and bite down, simply rolling his eyes as he rips into an envelope.
“anything for me?” you say mid-chew, only to be cut off by a dramatic sigh from seonghwa.
“finish eating before you talk, lamb,” he scolds as his fingers work on finishing off san’s tie, “no one wants to see what’s inside your mouth.”
yeosang’s giggles grow a little louder before promptly shifting to silence when your foot comes into contact with his shin. you ignore the glare he shoots at you, giving him a kind smile in return, showing yourself as the picture of innocence. no doubt the second you’re excused from the table he’ll have you pinned to your favourite rug, growling at you from where his body hovers above yours. you can only hope your ghoul is preoccupied this time; the poor thing had grown rather worried the last time he witnessed yeosang scolding you.
you swallow the fruit before turning to face hongjoong once more. “well?” you press, “you never answered my question; is there anything for me?”
“is there ever?” hongjoong counters, tossing one letter onto the table before moving onto the next. you cant deny that he has a point, but you can still hope, can’t you? pretend that there are more than just a handful of people that would care for you enough to write. you sink back into your chair and tug your lip miserably between your teeth. the disappointment is small enough to be unreadable to anyone else, but not to your family. he sighs and presses the second letter down against the stained mahogany. “i’m sorry, dove; i didn’t mean it to offend.”
you nod to him, although he doesn’t look fully convinced. with a sigh, he pushes a letter towards you and smiles. “it’s addressed to the ‘kim family’ which you are a part of, are you not?” well, by law, no, but you’d never let either of them hear you say that. you can feel seonghwa’s eyes burning into you as you stare into hongjoong’s so you nod. seonghwa hums as hongjoong shoots you a toothy grin; they’re pleased with your compliance, and you can’t help but let out an exasperated sigh at that fact. “so technically speaking there is something for you, dove. go ahead, open it.”
you do as instructed, picking it up and letting your fingers rip open the wax seal that holds it shut. if you cared to look at it for more than a second, perhaps you would’ve noticed the familiar letters that made up the emblem on it, although perhaps not; JWY haven’t meant a thing to you in such a long time. the last time you saw them was when you were at school with a boy with the same initials. he was certainly something, always teasing you and poking fun. half the time you acted kim you hated him for it, but you have to admit that he left a pretty big hole in your heart when it came time for him to leave. besides the butler, the werewolf and the ghost, you guess he was the closest think you ever had to a friend.
you pull the letter from its sleeve, hearing a scoff to your left as you reveal the ruled paper with the torn edges that had clearly been pulled from a notebook of some kind. in your eyes it has charm, in your lovers it is undignified. still, you unfurl it and let your eyes scan over the page.
dear mr and mr kim,
a bad start already, you find yourself thinking, it isn’t addressed to you at all. you send a scornful look to hongjoong to which he responds with a frown. with a sigh, you go back to reading.
i have no doubt that with a property like yours you must receive an unyielding amount of enquiries from paranormal investigators such as myself. i won’t sugarcoat it and claim to be better than the rest—
blah blah blah……
the author of the letter is right; a never ending stream of similar letters show up on your doorstep, all of which end up shrivelled and burnt on the fire come evening. hongjoong and seonghwa like their privacy a little too much to let a complete stranger poke around in search of a ghost or two. you like your shy little ghost friend a little too much to force him to reveal himself to a stranger who’s bound to lack respect for the dead. you fold the top third of the letter back over, preparing to slide it back into its envelope.
but then you see it, a name scrawled in the same messy handwriting as the rest of the letter. it hits you like a ton of bricks, the pain of missing someone, and although you haven’t seen him in years, it’s just as strong as it was back then. you bite your bottom lip as you study the name, trying desperately to keep the tide of sadness at bay. the others could see it anyway.
finished with dressing san, seonghwa walks over to stand behind you. a warm hand finds your shoulder and rubs at you comfortingly over the thick wool of the cardigan you wear. he reads the last few lines of the letter aloud, “yours sincerely, jung wooyoung, paranormal investigator,” before humming contemplatively, “who is he?”
of course seonghwa knows it’s the name that has you feeling this way. what else could it be? it’s not like the words ‘paranormal investigator’ would set you on edge; your best friends are a werewolf and a ghost, for devils sake.
“someone i once knew,” you reply simply.
“an ex?” hongjoong joins in as his hand fumbles around his plate. his fingers soon wrap around another berry, and he holds it out for you. it makes you smile; how could it not? it’s small things like this that remind you why you love them so dearly.
“a friend,” you take the berry and pop it in your mouth. you chew and then swallow, exaggerating your actions for seonghwa’s sake who simply rolls his eyes and presses a kiss to your forehead. “he left a long time ago. makes sense he became a paranormal investigator; he always did have a lack of respect for privacy.”
there’s a chuckle from hongjoong and seonghwa as you recount the memory of the man from your past. it’s very rare that they hear positive things about those people so it’s nice to finally find someone you shared a connection with. a shared look between them confirmed what they both already knew; they wouldn’t be letting this ‘wooyoung’ person get away from you so easily this time.
“a friend?” the silent conversation is interrupted by a scoff from the seat beside hongjoong and all eyes find their way to yeosang. the ever present nonchalance on his expression had melted into a pout that looked a lot less fierce than he probably intended it to. “how good of a friend could he have been if he abandoned you?”
ah… jealousy; yeosang’s favourite emotion. it was present when he met san for the first time before realising that san worked too hard to be around you 24/7 like yeosang is. even if the butler wanted to steal you away, he couldn’t possibly spare enough hours in his day to do so. yeosang quite clearly has the upper hand in that situation. then there was the issue of your ghost, which of course had struck yeosang with a bad bout of jealousy once more. the ghost was rather pathetic though, with the constant stream of tears falling down his cheeks and the sound of fragility ever present in his voice. jealousy soon melted into pity; he was reluctant but yeosang soon accepted the bear into his heart.
“we were 14, yeosang,” you smile, “i don’t think he had a say in whether he moved away or not.”
the wolf rolls his eyes rather dramatically and you can’t help but scoff out a fond laugh.
“well, he’s back in town now,” seonghwa purrs as he leans his body over yours. chest to spine, cheek to cheek, he huddles in close. his skin is warm against yours as he cuddles you, and when he pulls his face away just enough to give him room to kiss the corner of your eye, you can’t help but grin. “how about we invite him over some time next week? i’m sure sannie wouldn’t mind putting on food for one more person.” the butler hums in tired agreement, his brain still too sleep riddled to figure out what he’s agreeing to.
you smile, happy in the knowledge that one happy little piece of your past has found its way back to you…
#ateez x reader#ateez fanfic#ateez oneshot#ateez fluff#ateez scenarios#ateez fic#opposites attract universe
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Smokey And Sweet
✧ pairing: neighbor! lee jeno x fem! reader
✦ genre: smut
✧ warnings: 18+ (minors DNI), mentions of food and eating, mentions of death (no actual people die/have died), smoking from jeno & reader (cigarette), cursing, teasing, car sex, semi-public sex (oops), missionary, big d!ck jeno, fingering, protected sex, slight corruption kink, dirty talk, praising, pet names, some drool & spit, kissing, shy reader when it comes to godly men like lee jeno, slightly bad-boy jeno but more so his aura, reader & jeno are in their early 20s
✦ word count: 11.6k words (i literally couldn’t stop)
✧ synopsis: new boy next door takes an interest in you and decides to take you as a warm welcome into town.
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Winter had said its goodbye weeks ago, and now, it has fully transitioned into Spring.
With Spring having sprung, the environment has come back to life and everything is blooming once again.
You can now enjoy hearing the sweet songs from the birds chirping proudly every day. You can savor the sunshine and natural light for much longer now due to the time being pushed forward an hour. And, the weather isn’t bitterly cold anymore so you could actually go outside having your skin exposed without your body tingling, stinging, and shivering.
Though, there were still downsides to Spring that you loathed— such as torrential downpours, freshly awoken wasps and bumblebees, and random sneezing fits from pollen. But on days like today where the air felt so fresh outside and you frankly had nothing better else to do, the outdoors called to you.
You desired to spend your leisure time this evening outside. Maybe you’d even decide to buy a treat from the ice cream truck that drove past your neighborhood almost daily now that the weather was warmer. You relish in just the thought of enjoying your first ice cream this season from the cute truck. You’d definitely buy one.
With the weather just right, you chose to wear a simple oversized t-shirt and your pair of frilly-ruffled, black and white polka dot shorts, along with your go-to comfortable footwear. Perfect for lounging out in the breezy and warm weather.
Deciding to sit on the tailgate of your dad’s pickup truck while you wait, you scroll mindlessly through your phone with your wallet by your side.
Although your face was trained on your phone instead of enjoying the outdoors peacefully, at least you were outside instead of cooped up in indoors.
In the midst of the sounds of nature, from wind blowing the trees to birds singing, you hear the sound of your neighbors’s door swing open. Though, you refrain yourself from allowing your eyes to follow the sound, trying to ignore their presence even though curiosity fills you.
This past week, a new family had moved into the house next to yours. It had been vacant and up for sale for awhile, as the previous owners decided to relocate elsewhere.
You’ve seen the movers and had your fair share of brief glimpses towards the house, but you tried your best to ignore and avoid them.
Although your whole life your neighbors have been unproblematic and greet your parents every-so-often, you weren’t someone who enjoyed small talk and acted ‘neighborly.’ You lived in your own bubble, and were too shy in even sparing a greeting to your neighbors.
That may seem a bit bitchy, but you just felt awkward and never really knew what to say. It felt easier just minding your own business.
You probably should work on your social skills. Maybe then you’d actually have something to do instead of sitting alone outside like a loser waiting for some ice cream— at your grown age.
With your attention directed towards your phone, you don’t notice that it is a boy that comes out of the door.
Said boy walks out of his house and lets out a deep sigh with both hands on his hips as he stands on his porch.
Honestly, Jeno didn’t really know how to feel about the move. His parents had decided to move out of the big city he’s known and loved his entire life, and ditch it for this unknown-small town he has to call home now.
While he’s in his early twenties and fully capable of living on his own as an adult, he just graduated college and rent was fucking expensive these days. For the time being, it was easier to move and live with his parents until he found a job and could start saving for his own place.
There was nothing wrong with adults living with their parents, anyways. There were upsides and downsides to it— as there were with practically anything. But it’s what will work for now.
It just sucks that he had to leave everything he’s ever known behind and start over. But life’s all about growing and new adventures— at least, that’s what the older adults say. He just has to learn to adapt to his new environment and embrace change.
He’s been unpacking boxes and organizing his new room all day. It was now around 6pm, and he’d been in the house all day doing labor and cleaning. After being stuck indoors all day, he figured it was time for a break to go for a short drive or maybe get food someplace.
As he stepped out his front door and stood on the porch, he looked towards his left and noticed your figure.
A girl, he thought. He hadn’t really gotten a chance to even notice any of his neighbors or surroundings fully, as he was too immersed in helping his parents settle into their new home and couldn’t keep his attention on anything outside of moving in.
From his porch he could see your figure swaying your head faintly from side to side, legs swinging back and forth in the air over the cracked concrete of your driveway. You were in your own world, phone in hand and sat by your lonesome self.
How cute, he thinks. He probably looks like a freak just staring at your form, but he glances around the street fleetingly and it doesn’t seem like anyone else is out right now. You don’t seem to notice his presence watching you— or at least, maybe you’re pretending you don’t.
You peak his interest suddenly. He wonders what you’re like and from this distance, he can see that you’re definitely an adult like him. Maybe you’re around his age. He could use a friend or at least, know someone in this foreign town.
He gives himself an internal pep-talk of confidence to walk up to you. You’d start seeing each other almost daily now that you’re neighbors, and he doesn’t think he can stay unacquainted with you. So he strides his way towards your house to introduce himself like a gentleman.
While engrossed in whatever nonsense you’re watching on your phone, you begin to detect movement from your peripheral, as well as hear shoes scraping against the concrete.
Your eyes slightly widen at that, sensing a complete stranger coming towards your direction. It wasn’t everyday someone decided to approach you suddenly. Your body stilled and you found strength to raise your head, locking eyes with what seems to be a handsome man.
He brings a hand up and waves, continuing walking up to you until he’s like only 6 feet away.
“Hey— sorry to bother you, but I came to introduce myself. I’m Jeno. I just moved in next door.” he shoots you a smile.
“Oh— hey! Yeah, it’s nice to meet you.” you awkwardly get up to stand on your feet and extend an arm out.
“I’m Y/n. Welcome to the neighborhood!” you put on your best smile as he takes your hand to shake it firmly, practically blacking out mentally as you cannot believe this is a real scene playing out.
You’re left utterly dumbfounded once you took a good gander at this guy.
There was a contrast to him. His skin was pretty much bright and his beauty could light up darkness and draw irresistible attention to him, but he was also kind of shadowy in a way. Although he greeted you with a smile that reached his eyes, he seemed to have this intimidating presence to him.
Maybe you’re just saying that because anyone who’s attractive to you intimidates the fuck out of you. But he seems to ooze natural confidence and appeal. His features were sharp, and he just had this indescribable aura to him that made you weak. You couldn’t pin point what it was.
It didn’t help that he was cool enough to rock an undercut, seeing it peeking through slightly from his right side of face. Not to mention, you couldn’t help but shift your eyes down for a second to look at his almost-exposed chest, first few buttons of his dark flannel left undone.
His dark eyes, dark hair, and dark shirt contrast with his light blue baggy jeans and kind smile, making your skin heat up from his presence, even in the midst of a breeze passing through.
But anyways— your new neighbor is a hot man that decided to come over and greet you. If that’s not a moment in history, then you don’t know what is.
The smile on his face doesn’t falter one bit as you greet him back, feeling your smaller, slightly wobbly hand shaking his own, and sees the slight tint of pink coloring your cheeks. Was it from the weather or his abrupt approach? He’s not sure. And neither are you.
“Thanks. I— uh, actually noticed you were sitting out here alone. Figured I’d come introduce myself. Since I’m new to this town, I don’t know anyone.” he admits.
Your lips parted as you attentively listened to his every word, arms crossed. You let out a chuckle as he finishes, “To be honest with you, i’m not really familiar with anyone else in this neighborhood— and i’ve lived on this street my whole life.” you laugh at yourself, shaking your head as you look around at nothing in particular sheepishly.
Your words and quiet laugh only makes his smile bigger. “Yeah? Maybe I could be your first neighbor-friend.” Jeno smirks at you, his hands shifting around in the pockets of his jeans.
The dopamine releasing from your brain causes you to feel giddy and it feels like butterflies are fluttering inside your stomach from excitement and coyness. You’re gushing internally at the fact that God himself has sent you a cute neighbor— one who had the urge to come over and is showing interest in you.
You only know his name and your delusional-self is already mentally planning your future with him.
“I could definitely use a friend.” your smile is genuine as you tell him, showing courtesy to your new neighbor.
You see the smile reach to his eyes again, meeting your gaze before he looks down at his own feet while grinning, making you look away shyly.
God, you felt like a teenager again.
“Do you care if I sit out here with you? I don’t really have anything better to do.” Jeno speaks. He really wants to get to know you and waste no time. You seem very sweet, and like he said, he actually doesn’t have anything better to do. (He still had some unpacking left to do unfortunately, but he needed a damn break.)
You can feel your heart rate increase and a flash of heat hits you at his words, feeling flustered that your peaceful evening has unexpectedly taken a turn.
“Of course! I could use someone to keep me company.” you say, still feeling flushed.
You pushed your rear back onto the truck’s tailgate and Jeno follows suit. He takes a seat next to you, making you hold back a giggle at how the truck lowered for a moment due to the extra weight now added.
“So… you were just out here chilling alone?” he queries with both arms outstretched behind him, leaning back a bit and making himself comfortable.
“I actually came out ‘cause I wanted some ice cream. Now that it’s warmer out again, a truck usually passes by everyday.” you begin to swing your legs like you were earlier as you continued. “I’m grown as hell waiting for the ice cream man by myself. Can you believe that?” you laugh.
Jeno finds your demeanor endearing. How you’re just out here innocently waiting for some ice cream. And the way that you seem like a ball of sunshine. You’re unintentionally stirring his emotions with sudden fondness and attraction towards you.
“Hey, that’s cute. And, now you have company to wait alongside you.” he states, his eyes stuck on you as he spoke.
Your cheeks must’ve been permanently stained pink since he’s made himself known. His natural charm and solely being in the presence of an attractive male has your palms sweaty and senses tingling.
“So why’d you move here?” you attempt to make conversation, trying to push pass the fact that he basically called you cute and is sitting directly next to you.
He inhales some air and huffs it out deeply before speaking. “Parents wanted to settle in a smaller town now that they’re getting older. We lived in the city my whole life, but my parents wanted a change. Plus, my dad runs an auto repair shop, and he had the grand idea of extending his business here, so… yeah.”
“I just graduated college a while ago, too. You’d think that I would have my own place and not be packed up alongside my parents, but i’m trying to figure out what I wanna do. Rent’s too expensive in the city, anyways. I have friends I could’ve moved in with to split rent, but since we all graduated, we all are doing our own things and they have their partners and stuff.” he continued.
“S’ry for rambling. I’m just dumping all this shit on you.” Jeno shakes his head, scoffing at his own rant. The last thing he wants is for you to think he’s looking for pity and seem lame.
“Nooo— it’s okay. I asked you a question and you answered it. Sounds like there’s so much change in your life recently. It would only be natural to feel sour or uncertain about your current life. I know it’s probably not ideal, but I hope you adjust well here.” you offer him an empathetic smile, trying to assure him that his feelings are valid.
Jeno looks at you, intrigued and taken aback by your words. He wasn’t expecting you to respond with something that suddenly made his heart stir.
He isn’t one to get sappy or ever seeks for people to comfort him. He wasn’t even asking for sympathy. You were just kind enough to offer him some touching and uplifting words.
The ends of his lips curl at your tenderness. “Wow… do you always say such nice things to people you barely know?” he decides to tease you.
Your face grows hot, laughing nervously as you speak, “What? I’m just telling you what I think.” you pause for a couple seconds before continuing, “Moving can be mentally and physically taxing. Change is never easy. Especially as a young adult, we’re still trying to figure everything out. So I feel for you.”
“There you go again.” Jeno can’t help but smirk, eyes falling to his own lap, hands clasped together.
“You majored in psychology or something? Your words are naturally comforting.” he chuckles.
You scoff at that. “I’m actually in community college— and undecided.”
He hums at your response, finally learning something about you.
“Well, i’m sure you’d be good in any career field. You sound very mature.”
You pursed your lips to the side, feeling flustered at all these small compliments he’s throwing your way. He’s probably just being nice, but he’s probably thinking the same about yourself towards him. Though, you were a very compassionate person. Your words were earnest.
And his own words carried much weight to your brain, especially because it was coming from a man. A very attractive one, at that.
“I dunno, I was just being real.” you brushed his comment off.
“Nah, you’re definitely a smart girl. Come on now.” Jeno tilts his head at you, staring at you attentively.
He’s wondering what goes on in that pretty little head of yours. He has the urge to figure you out. Jeno isn’t stupid and realizes the effect he has on girls merely from his looks. Call him cocky or whatever, but it’s not a secret that girls easily gravitate towards him.
Though, you’re currently bringing him a different vibe. He’s already gathered that you’re sweeter than a Pop-Tart. And a bit bashful.
Girls are usually so quick to be flirty towards him. Not that he doesn’t like that— he actually loves when girls are bold and quick to get things swinging. But you’re offering him something new, even within the couple of minutes you’ve known each other. He’s definitely interested in you.
You can sense his pair of eyes on you, but you can’t bring yourself to look at him. Your vision lies straight ahead, trying to remain composed after hearing him compliment you as you stare at the house across from yours. How is this man still talking to your ass? You wondered.
You can’t even come up with a response before your ears pick up on that familiar tune of the ice cream truck, sounding closer and closer every second.
“It’s coming,” you lift yourself off the tailgate, wallet in hand as you approach the end of your driveway towards the road.
Jeno follows your lead and trails behind you, joining you as the truck comes to a halt in seeing you both.
He watches as you greet the driver and look over the menu momentarily, eventually deciding on a regular-sized Italian ice— flavor of your choice.
You then turn to look at Jeno, smile taking over your features charmingly.
“Do you want anything?” you ask him.
Jeno secretly does have a big sweet tooth, so he refuses to pass up on a treat of his own. “Yeah, i’ll have the same as her.” he announces and smiles at the worker.
You fiddle with your wallet, scrambling to fish out a couple dollars while your treats are being prepared. Though, it seems like you’re beat to covering for the both of you, eyes looking up to the sight of Jeno handing the worker some cash.
“I got it.” he says like nothing to you, happily paying the man in the truck.
You’re left confounded, not expecting him to even have his wallet on him.
Your mouth is slightly parted at his sudden act, ponderously putting your money back in your wallet. You can’t even protest as the transaction was already made.
Jeno hands you your treat with a spoon and grabs his own, both of you thanking the driver and walking back to your dad’s tailgate as the ice cream truck drives away, music now growing distant.
“I was gonna pay for us, y’know?” you say as you sit back down, Jeno doing the same.
“It was only a couple bucks. Plus, i’d never let a girl pay.”
You look down at your Italian ice in hand, poking at it with your spoon in other hand.
“Yeah, but we just met. You’re the new neighbor, shouldn’t I be the one treating you?”
“Your company is more than enough.” he simply replies before bringing his spoon to his mouth, head turned in your direction.
His words make your heart begin to thud erratically in your chest, heat rising all-throughout your body, and you’re left tongue-tied.
You’re still twiddling with your semi-frozen treat, mind and body fuzzy. You’re focused on his comment, the fact that he paid, and the innocent moment of you two enjoying ice cream next to each other here— outside your house.
You feel like you’re squirming on the inside, not knowing what to do with Jeno’s kind presence. He’s your neighbor now. How are you supposed to live now that you have an incredibly beautiful and charming man living next door to you?
“You like playing with your food before you eat?”
“Huh? Oh— my bad.” Jeno rips you away from your ruffled thoughts about him, now feeling embarrassed at how your head is already spinning and going dumb from someone you just met.
A nervous chuckle leaves your throat, finally digging for your first bite while Jeno was on his nth spoonful. You pop the spoon filled with ice cream into your mouth, tastebuds absorbing the deliciously creamy and smooth consistency.
“How is it?” he asks, eyeing you as you enjoy your first taste.
“It’s so sweet. Really good.”
“Definitely.” Jeno says, nodding his head in agreement. Though, he’s not sure if he’s referring to the ice cream or you.
You guys finished up your treats and talked about various topics, slowly getting to know each other better. You even started to loosen up a bit more, feeling just a tiny bit more comfortable the more you two conversed.
“You know, I’m a real huge car guy.”
“Really? I’m honestly not surprised.”
“Why?”
“‘Cause it seems like every guy these days is a ‘car guy.’” you sneered.
He scoffs after listening to you. “Well, since my dad’s a mechanic, he’s taught me almost everything I need to know about cars. It’s practically in my veins.”
“Trust me, I am practically infatuated with cars. I used to dream of becoming a F1 driver.” he clicks his tongue.
“Woah, what?! So with cars, do you like the mechanics of it all, or do you really just like showing off how fast you can go?” you cock your head at him, asking curiously with a hint of tease in saying the latter.
“Both. I like working hands-on with cars and having the knowledge to perform car maintenance. It also feels personal cause’ since my dad’s a mechanic, he passed down his love for cars to me.”
“I also love the control I can have while driving. It can be exhilarating when you’re going hella fast. Especially when your car’s all nicely polished and sleek— it’s the best.”
“Damn. You really are passionate, huh? That’s actually really dope.”
“I am.” he smirks, amused that you’re interested in hearing about his interests. Like, you actually are having a conversation with him and are seriously listening to him.
Meanwhile, it’s such a breath of fresh air for you to listen to him speak about his passions and have personality to him. He wasn’t dry or giving you half-assed anything— and he was respectful, making you swoon and happy to have met someone like him.
The sun was beginning to set as you two got loss in conversation, the sky painted in a warm hue.
“Let me go throw these away.” you gather your now-empty foam cups and plastic spoons, grabbing them and getting up to throw them in your trash bin.
“Thanks.” Jeno gets up shortly after you do, shoving his hands in his pockets.
“I should be the one thanking you— for the ice cream.” you now stand in front of him, arms crossed behind your back with a hand resting over your wrist.
“It was only a couple of bucks, no biggie like I said.” he assures you.
You smile, the apples of your cheeks more prominent as you can’t hold back in how wide it becomes due to his kindness. You stand meekly, figuring that this is the part where you bid one another goodbye and go inside your separate homes.
Although he literally lives next to you and you’d be seeing him frequently, you don’t want your time together to end just yet. He’s pulling you in like a magnet. You’ve felt lonely lately, and Jeno’s company was the best unexpected gift you could ever ask for.
And it seems like he’s thinking the same.
“Hey— I was thinking now would be a perfect time to drive around for a bit. I’ve been stuck at home all day and could go out for a bit. Would you like to come with?”
Your brows lift slightly, caught off guard by his invite. You didn’t expect to spend your evening with a man outside your house, and now, said man is asking you out for a drive.
“Only if you want to, of course. It’s totally fine if you don’t want to or—“
“No!— let’s do it.” you interrupt him, rather eagerly. You stare at him with a twinkle inside your eyes, mirroring Jeno’s own, eyes dreamy as he looks at your figure.
You might be some trouble for him, and you’re definitely feeling the same about him. The magnetism between you two is strong. Each of you look at one another in admiration and thoughts about anything else are practically nonexistent. It was purely curious attraction. Like a moth to a flame.
You’re honestly not sure if it’s the smartest idea to be getting in a vehicle with a guy you haven’t even known for 24 hours. You know your parents would literally be up your ass if they knew, and the anxious side of you is lowkey freaking out internally, already playing out multiple scenarios.
But you oddly trust Jeno. He seems to find solace in your presence. You each agreed that you were friends now. You hardly got out of the house anyways— you definitely needed this. And you’re an adult, so who cares?
“Alirghty then, are you ready to go?”
“Yeah, i’m good to go.”
With that, Jeno leads the way into his new property. His left hand digs into his left pocket and pulls out a pair of keys, walking to the driver’s side of what seems to be his car.
The sight of his car definitely confirms that he’s a serious car guy. You’re not too familiar yourself on the technical terms or remember model names, but his car is black, windows were tinted, and it’s glossy. It looked almost brand new, smooth and sexy— dare you say. It suits him well.
He unlocks his car and lets you know you’re able to get in, and so you open the passenger door and seat yourself inside.
A subtle musky fragrance fills your nostrils immediately as you settle in. The interior of his car smells clean and fresh, mellow undertones within the scent. Not strong, but pleasant and fitting.
Jeno also settles in his vehicle, starting up the engine as you each put on your seatbelts.
“Don’t worry. I know I said I like going fast, but I follow the law. It’ll be a nice drive.” Jeno suddenly says, looking over his shoulder as his right hand takes hold of the gear shift. He puts the car in reverse, using his left hand to steer the wheel.
You sit idly as he cranes his neck slightly to look behind, making sure the street is clear as he makes exit from his driveway. He smoothly reverses, and begins to drive down the street.
Your hands are folded in your lap, and you begin to play with them out of suspense from what is to come during this drive with Jeno.
You’re fortunate that your parents are out of town right now, so they don’t really have to question your whereabouts.
Though, you’re thinking about how you’re alone in the car with a guy you just met. It had been so long since you hung out with a male like this. You couldn’t help but already feel some type of way towards Jeno. Your senses heightened within his presence. Maybe it’s because you still don’t really know too much about him, but you also think it’s because his attractiveness daunts you.
Perhaps you’re already developing a crush.
“Got anywhere in particular you wanna go? I don’t really mind; I’ll let you take the reins.” he halts his car at a stop sign, then turns to smile at you.
“Honestly, there’s really not much to do in this town. People usually go goof around the grocery stores for entertainment. That’s how dry it is here.” you tittered.
“Though, there’s a school a few blocks away from our street that I walk to occasionally when I want to clear my mind, and I usually just roam leisurely around there. Since it’s practically right next to a nice neighborhood, lots of people go on walks or bike rides around, and kids play after school hours.” you internally facepalm yourself once you finish talking. He probably is gonna think you’re so lame and that you clearly don’t go out much. A school? Really?
“We can go there. Sounds chill to me, if that’s okay with you?”
“Yeah! I’m good with that.” you’re relieved to see that he seems on board with your idea. He seemed to be pretty laidback and easygoing, leaving you feeling safe.
You direct him to the location, and he notices that there’s no music currently playing.
“Wanna connect your phone to play some music?”
“Oh no, that’s okay. You can play whatever.” you kindly smile.
“I listen to the same songs practically everyday. It’s getting old. How about you put on something, I could use something new.”
You feel a bit shy in sharing your music taste, but you see that he won’t take no for an answer. You give in and he helps you in connecting to the Bluetooth. A R&B playlist is what you settle for, as most of the songs in your curated playlist were comforting, catchy, and relaxing.
As the music’s going, you feel flushed and can’t reject the smile that creeps on your face as a favorite song of yours comes on. You notice from your peripheral Jeno nodding his head to the beat of the track, making you fix your attention to simply staring out the window to avoid him seeing how blushed and smiley you are.
After just a few minutes, he pulls into the school grounds, parking in the lot and you two unbuckle your seatbelts. There seems to be hardly anyone here. There’s maybe one or two cars parked, but nobody’s inside. There also aren’t any children on the playground or playing basketball like there normally would be. It seems a bit ghostly out.
With you two now sitting in the car in the practically-empty lot, you begin to wonder maybe this really was a dumb idea of yours.
I mean, what are you guys actually going to do?
With you two in this setting, wouldn’t people expect you two to be doing something shady or sketchy? Especially as the sky’s only growing somber by the minute.
“Do you care if I smoke a cig?” Jeno’s question interrupts your overthinking, making you turn, facing him.
“Go ahead.” you give him the green light to do so. It was his car after all.
Internally, you grimaced at now knowing the fact that he’s a smoker. You weren’t a fan of tobacco or nicotine, but if someone wanted to smoke, who were you to stop them?
Jeno rolls the window down halfway and reaches his hand into his door pocket, pulling out a cigarette and a lighter. He puts the stick in between his mouth, allowing his lips to hold it as he brings the lighter to the end.
He flicks the lighter and the click hits your ears. Your eyes stay hooked on him once you hear it.
Jeno took a few quick breaths to ignite it, and it lit with ease. He sucked and held the smoke in his mouth for a moment, then removed the cigarette from his lips, letting the hot chemicals cool down before releasing a steady stream of smoke into the air towards his lowered window.
He immediately feels the buzz of pleasure from the nicotine rush to his brain. The warm air embraces his lungs like a comforting hug, allowing him to relax after a long day of unpacking.
Meanwhile, you weren’t in favor of cigarettes. You don’t understand the appeal in smoking something that in the end, is probably going to lead you closer to death by shortening your lifespan and bring trouble to your body. The aroma it left was harsh and acrid, and even eye-watering.
Though, even with how strongly you felt about smoking cigarettes, why was Jeno making it seem attractive?
Your attention is captivated on the erotic bittersweetness of the sight next to you. He made it seem so effortless, like it was second nature to him.
He seemed so carefree and rebellious in this moment. He obviously doesn’t give a shit about the consequences. The habit was hazardous, but the youthful, handsome man with strong features smoking in a dark car was glamorous in your perspective.
Jeno has to refrain from grinning as he notices your wonderment. He takes another drag before shooting you a question.
���Have you ever smoked before?”
“Not a cigarette, no.”
He suddenly moves his right hand with cigarette in hold in between you two, towards an empty tray you just now were made aware of. He taps the ash off the cigarette onto the ashtray, and to your surprise, gestures it towards you.
“Wanna try?” his voice husky.
Your mouth falls barely agape, caught off guard by his question.
You have to admit, even though you strayed away from cigarettes due to the long run danger they pose, you can’t help the burning curiosity fueling inside in trying it at least once.
Jeno made it look oddly satisfying, even in the midst of the now tarnished air and molten stench.
One puff wouldn’t kill you.
“Sure.” you reply, eyelids blinking at the stick in between his fingers.
Amusement is written all over Jeno’s face. He had a hunch before you even said anything that you’ve never smoked a cigarette before. You just seemed too sweet for that.
He found it mirthful that you want to try for yourself, and with him. There was something exciting in the fact that he’s about to watch you take your first ever drag. Knowing it was your first, there was a high chance you were going to be appalled by it. But it was going to be fun to watch, almost like he was corrupting your sweetness.
He brings the cigarette towards you and you carefully take it pinched between your thumb and forefinger.
The smoke envelops your nostrils, and you feel clammy all of a sudden with the cigarette in your hold and Jeno focused on you.
You were already overthinking the way you probably looked to him right now, so obviously amateur. And it was going to be humbling when you’re left coughing or can’t do it correctly.
Jeno can practically hear your worrisome thoughts turning, and is quick to kick them to the curb. “You don’t have to do it just because I am.”
“I actually want to try at least once in my life— for the plot, y’know?” you chuckled.
“Okay then. Just know I won’t tease you. Nobody’s first smoke is perfect.” he simply smiles, immediately bringing you support.
You don’t waste anymore time for the cigarette’s sake and wrap your lips around it, hollowing your cheeks as you take a shallow drag.
Your throat instantly feels irritated and on fire, feeling tight with the smoke you’ve just inhaled. All the toxic chemicals blaze your throat and lungs, leaving a bad taste to your mouth and it feels almost-suffocating.
A couple coughs rip from your throat, and you attempt to cover your mouth with your free hand and turn your form slightly towards the right, trying to shield yourself away Jeno from your embarrassing coughing fit.
You each let out a different curse word due to your actions, making the both of you laugh— of which, lowkey makes your throat feel even worse. Jeno quickly reaches over and removes the cigarette from your hold, dumping the ash on the tray and he keeps it between his fingers as he rummages around his car for a possible drink he may have lying around.
Luckily, he finds an unopened water bottle in his backseat. It unfortunately is room temperature and he doesn’t know how long it’s been in his car, but he doesn’t hesitate in opening it and offering it to you, which you gladly take.
“God! I fucking hated that.” you huff out after taking a few sips, now feeling calm. The ashy taste still was lingering in your mouth, making you slightly frown. The scent of the smog was definitely going to cling to your clothes— thankfully, your parents weren’t going to be home tonight to be greeted by it.
“Everyone’s first cigarette is terrible.” he chuckles before taking another drag, looking graceful and natural in doing so.
You can’t help the ping you feel in your heart from how you two now practically shared an indirect kiss, him choosing to continue smoking the cigarette instead of putting it out. You’re starting to feel hazy.
“I don’t think i’ll be smoking that ever again.” you scoff, taking another sip of water before reaching for and screwing the cap back on, placing it on one of his cup holders.
“That’s good, it doesn’t really suit you.” he says before enveloping his lips around the stick again.
Your eyes squint barely as you feel slightly offended from his comment. After blowing out the smoke, he notices your expression, and adds on to his words.
“You’re too sweet for that.”
“Can you elaborate?”
“You’re a pretty girl with frilly polka dot shorts who waits outside for ice cream and has a sweet nature. You just seem like you don’t do bad stuff like that.”
Warmth climbs from your neck up to your cheeks, not being able to maintain eye contact once ‘pretty girl’ rang in your ears. Pretty girl? Fuck, why would he say that.
“Duality exists. People can have multiple sides to them.” you voiced, trying to dismiss his comment from before off your mind.
Jeno nods his head in agreement, “Can’t argue with that.”
“Smoking isn’t good for you, though. You should stay away from it.” he utters, about to take another hit from his cigarette.
An incredulous expression takes over your face. “Well look who’s talking.” you teased, shaking your head slightly.
He pauses at your words, not being able to help the breathy laugh that escapes his throat.
“Indulging in cigarettes is like a hobby to me. It’s too late for me. I’m locked in for life.” he twirls the cigarette around his fingers, then brings it to his lips once again.
“So then should I stay away from you?” you mindlessly say, making you clutch the bottom frills of your shorts for comfort as you await for his response.
Jeno blows out smoke towards the window and turns to you, your fingers playing with the fabric of your shorts. He can’t help how cute you look in his passenger seat. You look so delicate, even in the dark interior of his car, even in the thick of the secondhand smoke air.
He’s torn between wanting to protect you and wanting to tamper with you. He could get a cavity just by looking at you. You were delightful and so new and sweet to him. You can be timid but you’ve been so open to embracing your new neighbor. You were a ball of sunshine, and he was the kind of guy parents hated just based off his looks alone.
Like you had said, there can be multiple sides to everyone. Just because someone seems to appear one way on the outside, or you base their personality off one side they’ve shown you, doesn’t define their entire persona.
Jeno really wants you two to get close together. Call him desperate, but he can already feel growing chemistry between you two. You barely met, but Jeno can’t help how he’s already so drawn to you.
And he intends to get to know every part of you.
Your fingers continue to fidget with your shorts, thighs pressed together, suddenly feeling small and hyper aware of your own existence within his presence.
“I kinda don’t want you too.”
“I already like you too much, think I could use someone like you in my life.”
Your nervous system is a whirlwind currently, the opposite of calm. Blood rushes to your head in hearing his response, ears becoming warm. A tight-lipped grin stretches across your face while averting your eyes from Jeno.
You can’t help the nervous giggle that comes out of you, unable to contain your emotions. There’s a change in the atmosphere, and it’s not just due to the smoke floating around.
Fuck. You don’t even know what to say to that.
He grins at your figure, his words clearly stirring something inside you. You avoid his gaze, pupils suddenly finding your lap more interesting and easier to look at than to meet his own eyes as you feel bashful.
Your fingers run along the goosebumps that now decorate the bit of exposed skin from your thighs, coy and still unable to think of a response. He makes you feel so silly and dumb, falling for his charisma.
Jeno’s eyes fall into your lap, following your small movements. You were visibly fidgety. He couldn’t help in wanting to reach over and place a hand protectively over your thigh. He then wonders what it would be like to hold your hand, or to tuck a stand of your hair behind your ear, or to kiss your lips.
He wants to act on instinct. The attraction and desire he has for you is too much for him to bear with you next to him in his car— in an empty parking lot.
He abruptly rolls up his window and reaches for the water bottle you drank out of from the cup holder, opening it and using a tiny bit of water to carefully add it to the ashtray, to stub his cigarette out properly.
You finally look up towards him because of his movements, watching and locking eyes once he’s finished.
“Y/n…” Jeno begins, head cocked slightly to the side, swallowing before continuing. “Is it too soon to ask if I can kiss you?” he practically whispers.
Your heartbeat feels like it pauses and sinks for a moment when you process his words.
Who would’ve guessed you’d be put in this position today?
Jeno’s eyes carry passion and intensity, awaiting for your permission or any answer. He’s craving for your attention, and he can’t deny the carnal desire within him to make each other feel good right now.
“I’d really love to kiss you.” he mumbles, eyes falling to your lips, head still tipped slightly, like a puppy concentrated on you.
The outside world and any miscellaneous thoughts are drowned out by the intention behind his eyes. The tense air and his admirable stare makes you feel a sense of vulnerability. Your own lips are trembling and heart flutters.
You’re lost from his eagerness and interest in you, caught off guard that he felt some attraction towards you while you’ve been trying to ignore how handsome this man was.
It’s been long since you’ve had any ounce of intimacy with another person. Loneliness has consumed you lately. With Jeno showing up in your life out of the blue, confessing that he wants to kiss you even from the little time you’ve known each other, it makes you feel validated and enchanted.
You peer down at the ashtray and center console, being a barrier between the two of you.
It would be slightly discomforting to kiss him over the compartment. But you really did want to kiss him.
Given the fact that you were parked in a parking lot during the late evening, you wondered in the back of your mind secretly of the possibility of him wanting to fuck you. Honestly, you wouldn’t be opposed to that idea in the slightest. A hot guy like Jeno wanting you was generating intense euphoria in your brain.
You were definitely nervous and timorous but fuck, you wanted him to feed your desires and take you heatedly.
“Would the backseat be more comfortable?” you finally manage to speak, viewing him with doe eyes. You knew what you were implying— a bold move for you but you now know that he wants it, too.
Patience never really was your thing.
Jeno’s lips curl upwards, sending you a knowing-look in response to your comment. He gestures with his head to the backseat, “You wanna?”
You merely swallow and nod your head, eventually letting out a faint ‘yes.’
Excitement charges him up in how fast things turned. He opens his own door first, with you following and opening yours a second after, making your way to the backseat on your respective sides.
Frisson is present within the pit of your stomach as you move to the back. Your body hairs are raised due to the tingling sensation rippling all throughout your skin.
You were excited but apprehensive. You were suddenly taking a leap into a new adventure, which was you about to get fucked by your new neighbor in the backseat— in a school parking lot. It was definitely indecent, but lust persisted.
Your pupils flickered around nervously as you each sat in the back, growing sweaty with every second that passes, wondering how this was going to play out.
Jeno takes note of your body language and immediately speaks up. “Are you okay with this? We don’t have to do anything if you aren’t comfortable.”
“I’m okay, just a bit awkward.” you sigh out with a slight laugh.
He smiles and looks down at the decent amount of empty space in between you two.
“C’mere.” he says, signaling towards his lap.
You take a breath as you slip out of your shoes and move closer to him. Jeno stretches his arms out, pulling your weight to seat you on his lap. Your legs wrap around his waist, and your body stills, in disbelief that you’ve found yourself in this foreign position.
Although patience wasn’t your thing, this situation was unfamiliar to you. About to get fucked by someone you barely met was crazy for you. You craved him, but you were also scared something was going to go wrong, whether it was from you or him.
Jeno’s left hand rests on the small of your back, drawing circles with his thumb over the fabric of your t-shirt. His other hand slowly reaches towards the apple of your cheek, rubbing it carefully with the pad of his thumb.
Your tummy flutters wildly from his small touches and the desire emanating from his eyes as he scans you.
“Relax for me, pretty.”
“Can you touch me, hm?”
You don’t verbally respond. You pupils go back and forth between his face and neck as you hook your arms around the thick skin. Your lips parted in being careful with your movements, still in disbelief of this current moment. He called you pretty again.
He smiles at the feeling of your arms around him, and lowers his thumb down your face until it reached your lips, playing with your bottom lip, eyes hooked to something so inviting.
Your own eyes seek his lips, watching the tip of his tongue slip out to give his own a lick, making you force to resist in shifting in his lap out of anticipation or letting out a whimper.
He’s the one to rip the tension by seizing a kiss from you. He gently pulls your face in, and as his lips meet yours, your only focus was on the heat that ignited within you.
The kiss was warm and smokey. It was intense with the way his lips moved jointly with yours.
While you didn’t care for nicotine, the taste of Jeno’s lips was a drug you could see yourself becoming addicted to.
As more seconds pass, the kissing becomes increasingly passionate. You’re practically melting, and it intensifies even more with his scintillating touches.
He protectively keeps a hand around your back, keeping you in place and subtly pushing you in closer towards him. HIs other hand holds your jaw, keeping your face slightly angled and steady.
You can’t help but rub down your clothed crotch against his own, surprising you when your movement draws a deep moan from Jeno, making you quietly gasp.
“Fuck.” he breathes out before he meshes his moist tongue into your hot mouth, making you produce a moan in feeling the wet muscle explore your sensitive erogenous zone.
Your eyes are clenched shut and fingers suddenly find themselves messily fiddling through Jeno’s locks, mind and body lost in the rush of how you’re locked by his lips.
There’s a growing hardness felt through the lightweight material of your shorts. It’s a signal that he wants more, each of your endorphins going nuts by merely making out.
He pulls away from your swollen lips, breathless, hushed gasps filling one another’s ears. Jeno then maneuvers a hand to cradle the back of your head, and brings his face towards your left ear, simultaneously beginning to play with the hem of your shirt.
“Let me take care of you.” his breath ghosts over the shell of your ear, sending a chill down your spine.
His hands redirect to either side of your waist, feeling you up as he brings his face back and scans your face, awaiting for a verbal response.
“Please.” you whisper, warmth spreading across your skin.
“Please what?” he teases.
“Please undress me. Touch me— my body and pussy. Want you to.” you slip out, swallowing your pride. It was a bit embarrassing to say such things aloud in front of your new neighbor, but fuck it. He wanted you equally as bad.
Fully blushed and flushed out, your eyes fall down to stare blankly at his chest. Jeno is filled with amusement though, and hums in satisfaction at your words.
He smoothly reaches for your jaw and tilts it up so that you’re looking at him properly, bringing a buzz to your pussy from his dominance.
“You’re gonna be so good to me, sweet girl.” he says, caressing your face like you’re made of glass.
He brings you in for a couple more deep kisses, savoring how perfect your lips felt and tasted against his own.
He then confirms again with a nod if you’re okay to proceed further, to which you nod back, allowing him to remove your shirt. He also helps you shimmy out of those cutesy shorts of yours, tossing the clothes somewhere up front.
Although you still have your undergarments on and you agreed to do this, you feel so exposed and vulnerable now. Jeno was still fully clothed while he began to fiddle with your bra strap, which made this feel unfair.
“Let me take off your shirt.” you whined and batted your lashes at Jeno, causing him to halt his attempt in wanting to remove your bra next.
He can’t help but smile as you grab onto his flannel shirt, waiting for him to give you the signal to remove it. You were so fucking cute.
“My bad, pretty. I’m all yours.” he kissed your cheek before allowing you to do so, which made you burn inside with all kinds of sensual emotions.
He watched you in awe as you shakily started to undo all his buttons, entertained in seeing the curiosity behind your eyes of unveiling what lies beneath the fabric.
With his shirt now open, he fully removed it himself by pulling off the sleeves and threw it in the growing pile up front, leaving his entire torso bare.
Now uncovered, you can’t help the admiration beholding your eyes as you view his exposed skin.
It shouldn’t have been such a shocker that a handsome face like his had the perfect body to match: hard chest, sculpted abs, and lean waist that contrasted from his broad shoulders.
You really lucked out.
“Like what you see?” Jeno can’t help but snicker, aware that he had this effect on people. You just boosted his ego even more.
You can’t help but giggle at the cliche line, eyes timidly flying away from his torso. Unfortunately he doesn’t get a verbal response from you, but he knows how you feel inside.
“For the record… I definitely like what I see.” he traces the edges of your body, appreciating your skin and details.
Your eyes redirect to his face, watching him eye you hungrily, his fingers beginning to delicately feather over the lace detailing of your bra. Your breathing slows, air tense with you seated over him and his vision glued heartily on you.
His eyes find yours with his fingers still over your bra. You pump your chest out a bit, gesturing to him that you want things to proceed and to remove the rest of your garments.
He immediately leads his hands to your back, unhooking your lacy bra. Your mounds spill out as he removes it and tosses it to the side, the sight making his cock so pumped, full of blood.
“Beautiful girl.” he mumbles, then latches his mouth onto the underside of your ear, making you angle your face to give him better access.
The open-mouth kisses he leaves activates the nerves around your neck. It tickles for a second, but he hits that sweet spot of yours, making you melt.
You’d give into any demand of his with the way his warm lips suck and nibble over your delicate skin. You grind down into him, arms hooked around his neck, clutching for security or else you’d probably melt away.
Your sex only covered by thin panties rutting against his cock straining through his jeans has him groaning into your neck. He zealously continues to suck on your neck, adding gentle bites and hot licks in between, making you arch your neck to the front and moan out of pure bliss. You secretly hope he’d leave a mark or two, so you’d have a visual reminder of this heated night for a few days.
His kisses meander to your throat and chest, tongue sliding out to trace all around one of your areolas, lips then enfolding over the nipple.
Squeals of delight reign free from your throat at Jeno’s foreplay, continuing while he engulfs and sucks both your firm nipples.
“You sound so pretty for me, girly.” he rasps out, dragging his lips over your fleshy, supple breasts.
The nickname sends lightning straight to your core, making you whimper in neediness.
Jeno ends the fun with enjoying your tits to start the pleasure awaiting for him from your cunt.
His left hand holds you while his right hand travels down your tummy, until it reaches the bit of skin below your navel.
There’s a dark appetite visible in his orbs. He looks at you for any sign of uneasiness while his hand goes down. Your breath only hitches, pussy tingling with a quiet gasp from your mouth once his fingers rubbed down to your panty-covered cunt.
It’s so damp and warm down here, he thinks to himself.
“So horny, aren’t we now?”
The way he talks to you alone makes you ignite within.
He decides to pull your underwear to the side, his fingers now coming in full, bare contact with the outside of your pussy.
You’re practically holding your breath at this point, waiting for him to play with you, anticipating the feeling.
“Me too.” he utters, answering his own rhetorical question before he starts running his fingers slowly around your clit.
His touch on your swelling bud causes another hushed gasp to come from you. He’s beyond pleased by listening to all the noises your voice produces due to his sultry touches.
His finger tips slid over your clit and then inched down, feeling the outside of your sex and letting you grow accustomed to his touch.
He ends up sliding one finger up your hole, leaving your mouth ajar and body to quiver from him inserting it in.
Jeno’s tongue licks around his teeth while he fingers you, your walls so tight around his finger.
“Relax for me, hm?” he leans in to kiss you, easing your body to the feeling.
His lips continuously colliding with your own makes you lost for a moment, body fuzzy and loosened up until he decides to squeeze in another finger.
The jolt of pressure wrenched a moan out of you, making Jeno draw back to bite his lip and laugh quietly. It was such a turn on for him to listen and see the beautiful noises and faces you make— and he hadn’t even fucked you yet.
He was prepping your pussy for his own length, already salivating in thinking of you taking him whole.
His long, thick fingers curl into a ‘hook’ motion, causing your legs to shake in lust and a shiver runs inside your core that tingled.
“Mhmmm…” you mewled, starting to subconsciously grind and meet the movements of his fingers toying with your moist and velvety sex.
Watching your responses to his movements feels so good to Jeno. He can feel you start to clamp around his digits, making his own mouth open and turn into a smirk. His cock is painfully hard, begging to be free and feel that clamping sensation that his own fingers do. He really hates to rip you from nearing your climax, but he’d rather you both cum together, your body underneath his.
With that, he halts his movements and removes his fingers. A broken whine rips from your throat at the feeling of him leaving your needy cunt. You could practically cry. Desperation clouded over you.
Jeno quickly quiets you down with now inserting those sticky fingers of his inside your mouth, causing you to hum around his digits, eyes wide and then closed shut.
The fullness and heaviness from his fingers and your own essence weighing over your tongue has your pussy clenching over nothing. You eagerly suck your wetness from his fingers, not bothered that he was just in you. This was all so racy.
“Such a good girl for me— fuck.” he groans, watching you suck his fingers in, your teeth faintly raking over them, cock twitching at how dirty this sweet girl was.
“Gonna make you cum from my cock, don’t worry.”
He removes his fingers from your mouth, pulling you off his lap, motioning you to lay back down.
Your heart rate picks up as you carefully lie over his backseat. He traces the delicate curves of your hips and finds his way to the band of your underwear, you each sharing a nod of consent for him to remove them.
He tugs them down and off, tossing them and he gets you to pull your knees up, allowing more room for Jeno within this limited space.
He mentally whistles at the sight of your princess parts and the position you’re in, waiting for him to take you in the back of his car.
He doesn’t waste anymore time and hastily gets rid of his confining jeans and briefs, his cock immediately standing proudly once his underwear is pulled off.
The sight of his big and thick, towering manhood has your breath stuck in your throat.
While he moves and reaches over to dig for a condom in his glove compartment, your palms become sweaty in the thought of him squeezing his length inside you.
He looked absolute delicious, but you weren’t sure if you could handle someone as big as him.
Jeno finds a condom, ripping the plastic open with his teeth and flings the wrapper out of sight. He stretches the rubber over his length, precum already leaking from his tip.
As he inches towards you, you can’t help but voice your concern.
“Will it fit? you shakily breathed.
Jeno can’t help but tilt his head, staring at you intently. His lips can’t help but curl, offering you a reassuring smile.
His lips suddenly find themselves over your knees, pressing a gentle kiss over both of them, making your heart pump with fondness.
“We will make it fit.”
“Let me know if it hurts, okay? Don’t want you in pain, pretty.”
“Okay.” is all you say, still sweaty, but ready for him to enter you, core aching to be touched again.
He massages the inside of your thighs with care, trying to ease you up some more. He grabs his length and rubs it along your folds— especially dragging the tip past your clit, making you moan at the sensation.
He finally takes it upon him to prudently push his cock into your entrance, his mouth open while he starts to stretch you out.
Your legs immediately hook around him and rest on his lower back, meanwhile your arms decide to cling onto his beefy biceps for support. You cry out a moan from the pressure.
“It’s okay, girly, I got you.”
“You’re safe with me. Gonna take care of you.” Jeno’s breath fans over your face before he captures your lips with his. His hips slowly begin to roll as you kissed him back with enthusiasm, a burst of adrenaline racing through your bloodstream.
Your walls practically swallowed him, cock fitting so snug inside you. His left hand brushed into your hair, running his fingers loosely around your locks, making you relax from his touch.
“God! You— you’re so big.” you blatantly puffed out, starting to feel his thick cock brush past your walls.
“Yeah? You can take it, pretty— right?” the blood in Jeno’s body starts to boil due to the warmth encompassing his length, and from the sense of pride filling him from your reaction to his size.
He begins to start a steady pace with his hip movements, sliding his cock in and out— not all the way, but enough to stimulate your sensitive walls.
He falls into a natural pattern as your body accepts him well. Your vision darts upwards towards the roof of the car, beginning to lose yourself to his fat cock.
Though it quickly lowers again when his head dips into your right breast, tongue slipping out and starting to twist around your erect nipple.
A mewl jumps out of you, hands redirecting to his muscular back with your nails pressing tightly into his skin.
“C’mon, talk to me.” Jeno rasps, making brief eye contact with you for a second before he briskly attacks your entire right breast with his mouth. He ferociously makes out with your mound and marks you, painting you with reddish-purple splotches and leaving the flesh sheening in spit.
His hunger for attention and to get you both off is ardent. Every other thrust into you is rigid. He was pacing himself at first to start off, but now his rhythm increases to fuck you hard and his length travels into you deep. He has no intention in holding back his horniness.
Lack of words from you aside from the whimpers and moans has him moving a hand to touch and toy with your clit. His calloused fingers alternate between softly pinching and sliding his fingers in a back-and-forth motion along the puffy bud.
“Oh— God! Jeno!” the attentiveness he shows to your aching clit while ramming into you has you scream his name. It has you automatically canting your hips up to meet his thrusts into you.
Your reactions and hearing his name from your voice drives Jeno wild. Breathy grunts leave his mouth, hips continuing in chasing both of your highs.
The current setting and moment is electrifying. Fucking in the car in a school parking lot was obscene and limited compared to bed space, but it was still extremely mind-numbing and euphoric sex.
Your frame caged under Jeno’s ripped body is like a dream. You felt so helpless in this position, but couldn’t possible wish for him to stop. It was so hot seeing and feeling his figure fuck you into oblivion.
Your body rocking over the leather car seats only amplifies your feeling of sensitivity and arousal. God, how amazing it felt for Jeno to be pleasing you in this way was. You can’t even imagine how good it would be to fuck in other ways— in other places, with him.
His relentless efforts has your mouth stuck open. The arousement increases the amount of saliva within your mouth. Surprise catches you when some of it seeps out the corner of your mouth.
Your tongue lolls out in attempt to catch the drool before it fully falls, failing miserably as it rapidly trickles down from the corner, to your chin. Quickly, you wipe it off messily and then place your hand back over his skin, but it’s obvious that Jeno sees what just happened, as he’s right over you— much to your embarrassment.
Though, his cock surges in amusement, and so does his other head. You were literally drooling over his cock. How fucking sexy was that? Wonder how’d you look on your knees giving him the messiest head. Oh how he hopes to have that thought come to life one day.
“Mhm. So hot— fucking my cute, pretty neighbor. You like that too, hm? You like the feeling of your big neighbor on top and inside of you?” he teases you, watching your pretty figure being ruined beautifully by him. His filthy words mix with his dirty, animalistic movements.
“Feels so full and good, Jeno!” you choke out. You’re blissed out, feeling like the band in your core may snap soon.
There you go saying his name again, making Jeno groan repeatedly in ecstasy, dragging his cock deep into you, his weighty sack occasionally slapping against your bottom.
“Yeah? So full of me, pretty.”
“Taking me so well, like a good girl.”
Heat swells in your cheeks from his comments and the hot temperature and pressure felt as he fucks you. As much as you savor it, it’s becoming too much. The finish line is coming close to being ripped apart.
The thrill in the pit of your stomach has it churning. His long, deep strokes, each of your various moans bouncing off the tinted windows, his gruffly voice, and his finger-work over your sensitive bud— it’s all captivating you to feel an abundance of dopamine rush.
A shiver in your core tingles consistently. You’re beginning to lose control. It’s like you’re stoned and can’t focus on anything aside from the intensity of that tingly pressure present within you.
“Gonna cum, Jeno.” your voice cracked while your muscles tightened.
“Fuck,” he hisses at the tight grip of your walls swallowing him from the tip to base.
Your eyes rolled back behind your trembling lashes, and he watches with a keen stare and relishes in your smutty sounds. It all only encourages him to keep persisting to reach the peak.
And then, you finally break.
Your fluid expels from your pussy, lubricating your walls and leaving you a whimpering, wet mess.
Jeno pushes through your spasming, feeling the warmth spreading in your heated cunt through his condom. His own muscles can’t resist in clenching hard. He pushed you over the edge and possessed your mind and body with euphoria.
It’s practically heaven. His balls tighten and eyebrows push together with hips starting to slow down as strings of cum begin to fill his condom. It’s so relieving that a few guttural moans come out from his throat.
His hot seed falling into the condom is so fulfilling, sack emptied. All this activity has left him sweaty all over and mouth dry. His chest continues to heave and he carefully pulls out of you.
You shake and shiver now that the tension is dying down, and your muscles try to relax after the satisfying orgasm.
Jeno is quick to remove his used condom and tie it, abandoning it in a random spot in the car. He’ll of course, clean his car later.
He reaches towards the front of the car to search for his shirt, and then edges back to you.
“Hey, you were amazing, sweet girl. Let me help you.” Jeno spoke softly to you while the back of his fingers stroke one of your shaky thighs.
He began to use his shirt as a rag for any wetness seeping out and around the outside of your cunt.
You couldn’t help but flush at the aftercare he shows you, even while in a car and not hesitating to sacrifice his shirt to wipe your spills. Seems like chivalry isn’t dead after all.
“Thank you.” you say to him when he’s finished.
He just smiles at you, eyes crinkling as he sticks out a hand for you to grab, and helps you sit up next to him.
Still both fully naked, you still feel flushed and exposed now that the sex was over. Your breasts hanging out and his cock lying limp over his thigh was too hard to ignore. Jeno notices, and quickly gathers your t-shirt for you and his briefs for him, making you thank him once again.
You don’t know what to say now and he doesn’t know what to do. It’s obvious now that you two have an attraction to one another. But, where do you two go from here? Will this be a one time thing? Or maybe a friends-with-benefits type of deal? Guess you didn’t need a label right away, you barely know him. But you know you needed more of him, in any way— sexual or not.
In the midst of each of your silence, Jeno decides to reach for your hand, clasping his fingers with your own under his. He gently squeezes your hand, causing your own legs to squeeze together, beginning to feel a sense of giddiness inside.
“What’s on your mind?” he asks, thumb beginning to soothe you as he drags it back and forth the side of your hand.
“Do you have a girlfriend?” the words leap out of you, making you cringe as soon as they come out.
Mortification washes over you. Why the fuck would you ask that? What are you even implying?
Your sudden question makes him chuckle and grin, especially now that you already fucked. You guys are just now having this conversation.
“No Y/n, I don’t. I’m one-hundred percent single.” he smirks at you, thumb still tracing your skin.
His answer is pleasing to your ears. You try not to show how obviously happy you are with that. A faint smile is all you allow yourself to show.
“You don’t have a boyfriend now, do you?” he tilts his head at you, eyes playful.
“I don’t.” you spoke softly.
Just like you, Jeno finds himself content with your answer.
“Good girl.”
ﾟ+..｡*ﾟ+ ﾟ+..｡*ﾟ+ ﾟ+..｡*ﾟ+ ﾟ+..｡*ﾟ+ ﾟ+..｡*ﾟ+ ﾟ+..｡*ﾟ+
#ericscroptop#nct smut#nct imagines#nct dream smut#nct dream jeno#nct jeno#lee jeno#jeno smut#jeno x reader#lee jeno x reader#jeno imagines#lee jeno smut#jeno fic#lee jeno fanfic#nct x reader#nct#kpop imagines#kpop smut
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compliments to the chef
Momo x gn!reader
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
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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Billy Batson is 100% willing to bite people and has before
Now a tiny child who's lived on the streets biting someone is understandable and honestly fair
However when Superhero and Justice League member Shazam bites its a little confusing and shocking. Although Batman noticed how the reaction was similar to a certain book loving birdy.
#billy forgot and reacted of automatic#the other league members were shocked#bats be connecting the dots#billy batson#shazam#dc#justice league#dc jl#batman#superman#wonder woman#the flash#green arrow#green lantern#martian manhunter#aquaman#dc comics#robin#bruce wayne
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ohhhh just thinking ab how patrick’s dick is so good it alters ur whole mood when u can’t get it immediately … :( and he can tell everytime too, a very specific kind of brattiness coming out of u whenever u need ur cunt stretched.. youre all snark and eye rolls and instead of matching ur energy he just smirks down at you knowingly, eyes glittering w love as he leans to whisper in your ear to avoid anyone hearing, “ ‘my baby need to get fucked that bad?”. you can never deny it bc he just sees through you so clearly (which you were grateful for in these instances), so you just say “can you not be so vulgar?” (you loved that he was vulgar and you were certain he was beginning to realize that too).
when you two finally get home, he would absolutely lay pipe, prone bone type shit, caging you with his arms, his warmth and skin and weight suffocating you as his dick made its home in that sweet sweet spot of your pussy, the spot that made the most vibrant colors flash behind your eyes. he wants to make sure his baby is nice and full, keeping the entirety of his length pressed into you and only pulling out millimeters to press into you again, the fullness of his balls smushed against ur clit and sticking to it w each movement. this is supposed to help satiate you but it only fucks the chemicals of ur brain more, makes u sob bc how is it possible that he makes u feel this good and how is it fair that you can’t feel this way forever and he just kisses along your sweat-slicked face, his fat, heavy cock bringing that familiar internal euphoric swell. “it’s okay baby, let it go. i know, i know..”
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Can we have more about The Awful digital hospital?
[ slams papers on desk ] i'm so glad you asked !
this au's still admittedly a huge work in progress and there's not really a lot down - though to be fair i'm not really that much of an au person . i take a million years to finish them shfsf
also fun fact that gooseworx made music for the awful hospital so this au was fated to happe
anyways the awful digital hospital is ... kind of a crossover but also Not ?? it's more like it's own thing that combines both elements of both medias , so no character is a one-on-one swap and there will be a lot of differing elements . nonetheless it's kind of hard to do this without spoiling the webcomic which i still highly recommend to read - one of the only medias that made me cry and laugh out loud lol
dolly's our favorite shrimp who , after being admitted into the hospital for an eye injury , has a son to save . kind of our most mentally stable ragatha because she doesn't have this thing called ' being trapped in a digital hell for years ' . still burdened with the voices though
2. rabbit is one of the other patients in the hospital that . may or may not have killed so much of the staff - which is why there's oddly so few of them . has been trapped in the hospital for years , which did a number on his morals .
of course being a digital space the said staff Can come back by rebuilding their code but still it's pretty odd this guy would unexistentialize people
3. here's the hospital staff . they were ... kind of decent at their jobs ? but [ SOMETHING ] leaked into the mainframe so everything's falling apart now . while some of the staff ( read : the nurses ) are friendlier than others they still will pose a threat if you are not in your room .
here's the only ones whose designs i have down . i do know that jax's a veterinarian , zooble's a surgeon , and kinger's a psychologist
4. zooble can also make tiny little zoobles with their zoobox . they generally help out with the surgery though there's one that escaped and became dolly's companion .
5. loo is the manager of a candy factory that totally does not use humans as its main ingredient . very friendly at first glance but if you're flesh and bones you're thrown in the sugar grinder . scramble was unwillingly taken in to become the cashier for the candy shop but oh well at least they're not being murdered .
there's a bunch more but i'm letting everything here cook first ... ! still happy to talk about this thing though i like thinking about my two fixations
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seventeen with a tall s/o who flusters them!! (๑>◡<๑)
pairing: svt x gn!reader
word count: 1.7k
warnings: mild cursing because i can’t be normal
other disclaimers/notes: author teasing/poking fun at svt LOL, barely proof read because i am sleepy and its 2am
a/n: hi everyone, I'M FINALLY BACK WITH ANOTHER POST lmao~ hope you all enjoy and THANK YOU MY TALL 😈 ANON HANNIE STAN FOR REQUESTING!! <3 i have more things in the works that i want to post soon, some svt, ateez and nct dream~ pls stay tuned, but for now enjoy!!!
✩‧₊˚seungcheol: SULK!!!!!!!!!!y!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! he will still try to protect you He Does Not Care. every time you get flirty with him he just starts pouting like “why are you treating me like this im a grown man…” kinda thing. he will literally try to reach things for you even though he can’t like he’s actively trying to beat you to the punch constantly LMAO!!!! he back hugs you a lot, and you just stand there awkwardly like “pls let me hug you, arent you uncomfortable with your face against my back???” and hes like “No im perfectly fine like this, i just want to give my s/o a hug thanks.” and hes like SO serious. it is actually is kinda uncomfy for his neck tho so after a while he gives in and lets you hug him LOL, but he;s not happy about it >___> (he is!)
✩‧₊˚jeonghan: this man lies for fun………..he messes with people like it’s his JOB…………so when his tall s/o flusters him he tries his BEST to just try to do it back. HOWEVER unbeknownst to you, jeonghan his having a fucking existential crisis over this in his mind. every time you tease him, it sends him into a spiral, questioning his entire god damn life. jeonghan literally lays down in bed one day after hanging out with you and he’s like “this feeling…………what is it……………………my face……..why is it WARM……………” he will literally google (in incognito mode. can’t have the bros seeing this after all) “what does it mean when you feel shy-embarrassed-butterflies in your stomach” because he this feeling is FOREIGN to him!!!!! once he realizes that this is what it means to be flustered he’s just like “oh my god. who have i BECOME!!!!!!!!!!!” and then his eyes widen. “am i the babygirl??????”
✩‧₊˚joshua: i feel like if it’s applicable to the situation, joshua is going to do everything in his power to try to repeat the gesture back to you to fluster you back. i swear to god joshua makes your relationship the Flustering Olympics. he will try to outdo you at any turn. one time you ruffled his hair and he was like You know what. and then he reached up to ruffle YOUR hair!!!! you kiss his cheek, he’ll reach back up to give you one too. he refuses to be the only one who’s constantly feeling shy and mushy - it’s gross and not fair.
✩‧₊˚jun: he is STRUGGLING…..like. i feel like he’s oblivious to your teasing at first, like why are they always reaching to get stuff for me….what’s up with all the headpats??? do they think I’M ACTUALLY A CAT?????? i feel like jun would just straight up ask you that unprompted. like “y/n we need to talk, why do you keep petting me and pinching my cheeks, do you think im a real cat we need to get you checked out grandma.” and youre literally like WHAT ARE YOU TALKING ABOUT LIKE ACTUALLY, I JUST THINK YOU[RE CUTE AND SMALL………..anyway he gets real embarrassed after you say that and just accepts the babygirl title that has been thrust upon him
✩‧₊˚hoshi: he is the babygirl of seventeen so he is absolutely RELISHING in this. he will let you do whatever you want with him and he even plays into it too like tbh i think hoshi likes being taken care of even though hes part of hyung line and the performance leader :3 bro is giggling every time you lean down to pinch his cheeks or use his head as an arm rest lmao. this is his world and you’re just in it !!! always asks you to take pics of him when you;re out doing things together, and always gives you picture credit in his captions lol. is the type to drunk text you asking you to pick him up and drive him home from drinking with the boys, and is super clingy to you as you both say your goodbyes to everyone. yeah if you treat him as such, this guy will become a domestic baby girl for you LMFAO
✩‧₊˚wonwoo: quietly flustered at all times. this guy unironically does NOT know how to fcking react when you tease him like this….he’s seriously the type to be like “y/n stop this is seriously bad for my heart wtf” like one time you leaned down and kissed his cheek and he just froze. he was convinced that for a min he was Actually Not Breathing. he’s the type who’s always like ahhh why are they so cute… whenever you tease him…he’s literally so down bad for you!!! btw every time you ruffle his hair or make it known in some way that he’s smaller than you he will without fail crinkle his nose in embarrassment and shyness lol
✩‧₊˚woozi: angry cat vibes from this man. i have a feeling you two would have a tom/jerry type relationship where woozi WILL NOT tolerate you patting his head, bending down to his eye level, and ruffling his hair. he is a grown man. he might need your help to reach some groceries, but YOU’RE NOT GOING TO TALK ABOUT IT and HE WOULD HAVE GOTTEN IT OFF THE SHELF IF HE COULD. i feel like woozi may be one of the only members who would have to ask you to tone it down maybe and not tease him as much LOL. of course he appreciates you and likes affection, but i just think woozi would be like -___- i can take care of myself y/n -__- i can also take care of U y/n -___- let me take care of us -____-
✩‧₊˚minghao: a warmhearted man who just genuinely appreciates the gestures you display for him. sometimes will ask you to reach things for him first just because he knows you’ll do it and it just makes him feel cared for. doesn’t really get flustered per se, but i think he his heart would melt every time you show him any kind of affection :) i think he’s the type to appreciate his partner taking the initiative an equal amount in the relationship, so i think he’d be pretty happy w you doting on him a bit lol. he doesn;t realize your intention is to fluster him at all and you end up never telling him because the look of love he has when you pinch his cheeks is worth anything
✩‧₊˚dk: he’s literally svt #1 dude kisser like HE’S usually the one causing people to blush,,,,,......if someone behaved that way toward him, i think he would die because i don;t think dk 100% understands how easily he catches people off guard with his physical affection!!! so like when it happens to him he’s just like OH MY GOD IS THIS HOW WOOZI FELT WHEN I KISSED HIM………….i feel like if you bent down to kiss his cheek suddenly he would become quiet af and suddenly can’t look you in the eyes LMAO like YOU KILLED HIM!! HE’S DEAD!!! btw he reacts this way every single time
✩‧₊˚mingyu: mingyu is puzzled. he wasn’t aware that these emotions were ones he would ever experience. he recalls seungkwan scolding him in the past for purposely doing things to fluster girls (i.e. flexing his muscles to people at the gym, flashing his smiles at baristas when theyre getting coffee, etc), and he never understood why seungkwan always told him to stop behaving like that until he started dating you. being constantly doted on like his was literally killing him…he;s never been on the receiving end of playful teasing like this before, and he;s literally so shy that he doesn’t know what to do with himself!!
✩‧₊˚seungkwan: he is crisis….he wakes up everyday looking in the mirror and is like “you will NOT get flustered today. you WILL be normal, and unphased, even if they kiss your forehead.” and everyday he fails himself. every time you hand him a mug from the top shelf, every time you slink an arm around him, every back hug you give him, he can’t help how warm his face gets - it’s actually kind of annoying how much of an affect you have him. one time he was thinking about the sudden cheek kiss you gave him before work while pouring himself a glass of water and it literally began to overflow. seungkwan remembers that day as a particular sickening reaction to your tomfoolery….
✩‧₊˚vernon: lmao i feel like the first time you like give vernon a headpat in his mind he’s just like “oh shit why am i getting nervous, i didn;t know i was into this lmao” dfjsdklfjsd. like every time you fluster him hes just pleasantly surprised and goes along with it because he kinda likes being the one taken care of. i’d say that he gets flustered most of the time you try to get a reaction out of him, but sometimes when his tolerance is particularly high, he’s able to flirt back to fluster you too. i think the longer you two have been together, the easier it is to throw back that behavior at you LOL. i feel like you both are always teasing each other and laughing all the time ~___~
✩‧₊˚dino: a BABY GIRL WHO WON’T ADMIT IT!!! bro talks a big talk to his friends about how he isn’t a kid anymore and how he’s a grown man now and yayayayayyayaya. but the moment you headpat him, he’s reduced to a blushy mess. i think if you reached down to boop his nose, he would literally Die on Impact. like. he really thinks he’s normal and the more dominant one in the relationship but lean down to make eye contact with him or rest your head on top of his and he will fucking pass away. after the initial resistance, i think hes someone else who would relish in being babygirl, but only in private!!!! there are things his hyungs do NOT need to know…………………..
#seventeen x reader#seventeen fluff#seventeen imagines#seventeen scenarios#svt x reader#ot13 x reader#s.coups x reader#jeonghan x reader#joshua x reader#junhui x readerho#hoshi x reader#wonwoo x reader#woozi x reader#minghao x reader#the8 x reader#dk x reader#mingyu x reader#vernon x reader#seungkwan x reader#dino x reader#im actually so dead#how much time has passed since i originally received this request? who knows#anyway#rabbit writings
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Everyone thinks Vernon is always at your place because you feed him. While you can agree it's mostly true, there might be more to it than meets the eye.
content: fluff, f2l, mentions of food
wc: 1.6k
notes: me taking a stab at writing lol. i also don't know how tumblr works. inspired by the fact that this man will eat everything in sight regardless if its someone else's food or not. i'd love to cook for him someday ❤
6pm on the dot. You don't even have to check to know who it is.
"Hey, Sol." You look up from the pot you've been stirring to greet your visitor who let himself in. Your apartment's passcode was practically muscle memory at this point.
"Hey, smells good in here," he comments while taking off his shoes, "I mean — it always does but you get it." You give him a little chuckle in response.
You hadn't been friends with Hansol for very long, but when a mutual friend decided to introduce you two to each other, you instantly hit it off. The whirlwind of a friend group you now shared was filled with strong personalities and quirks: Seungcheol was the self-proclaimed "dad" of the group but you'd swear he would whine and complained more than the rest of them combined. Seungkwan, the one who always had a sassy quip to share, but would be the first to cry at Disney movie nights. There was Jihoon, who showed his love exclusively with acts of service but is so tsundere he would rather die to admit he had any kind of emotions besides annoyance. Not to mention Soonyoung, who made it his mission to convince everyone that he was a tiger. No one knew how this bit started but everyone finds it entertaining nonetheless.
Amongst them all, Hansol was just a dude. A normal guy. As funny as it sounds, that's what made you two click so well. Not that he didn't have his own aspirations (and his own fair share of quirks!), but he had always been the sort of person that was along for the ride. Although a little bit clueless at times, you could tell his heart was in the right place.
"I brought dessert, by the way," He plops a plastic bag onto the kitchen counter, his cheekbones pushed all the way out in a smug grin, "hope you like it."
"Aww, Sol you didn't have to!" delight in your eyes as you wipe your freshly washed but still wet hands on your pants and scurry over to peek inside the bag. "Oh my god, this is that tiramisu from that bougie place, isn't it?! I heard the wait times were, like, over an hour. You're insane for this, thank you so much!" You're practically beaming as you put the dessert in refrigerator, promptly turning around to give him a hug. His hands automatically reach around your back as you bury your face into his chest. Man, he will never get tired of the way you smile at him over the smallest things.
"You're always feeding me, so it's like, the least I can do really" he murmurs as you let go, his own smile spreading across his face when you look up at him.
Right. Your relationship with Hansol was rooted in the fact that you both loved food. Cooking food in your case, and eating it for him. It was a match made in heaven, really. In the beginning stages of your friendship, you always noticed how he would always ask for bites of other peoples' food, the way he would eye a bag of snacks if anyone dared to bring them out, the "you gonna finish that..?" that would inevitably follow the conclusion of every meal. The guy was a human trash can with a black hole in place of his stomach. So really, was anyone surprised when Hansol practically attached himself to you that day you brought in those homemade baked goods for the friend group?
After that day, the rest was history. His insatiable hunger and the lack of his own cooking skills (poor dude would be consuming toast everyday if he didn't eat out) made him worship the ground you walked on whenever you fed him. In turn, his enthusiasm for your cooking and willingness to give honest feedback on your experimental recipes made him a regular guest at your apartment, much like today.
Hansol would be lying if he said he didn't feel like he was taking advantage of you sometimes, no matter how much you insisted that it wasn't the case. He always tried his best to chip in for your groceries or pick up ingredients when you didn't have time. He didn't even mind the way his friends teased him for being at your place more often than his own or the fact that you gained your own nickname among the guys as his personal chef. He was happy with your little arrangement, and it also helped that you were so easy to be around.
"Hey, can you help me set the table?" you say as you push a stack of plates and tableware toward him. Your attention is quickly pulled away again as you go to plate the food you've been laboring over the past hour.
The routine is a familiar one: sitting down across from each other with a wide array of dishes and sides in between. You always make him take the first bites; "I already taste tested everything as I was cooking, silly!" you would say, eyes focused and hands tucked under your chin eagerly awaiting his reactions and thoughts.
Today's meal was a hit, as it usually is. Hansol could count less than a handful of times that he didn't love your food, and even then he still ate everything despite you telling him that it was okay if he didn't finish it.
The next part of the routine, however, rivals even the food in his eyes. Both of you are glued to the chairs chatting away, even when all the food is long gone and empty plates remain on the table. Between you two, there was always something to talk about. Tangents turn to into more tangents turn into "remember when we…" turn into "we should totally do…" Hours can pass by before one of you even remembers that there was dessert in the fridge, and even more hours before either of you get up again to go wash the dishes. When that happens, you simply carry the conversation to the kitchen except this time with the gentle running of sink as background noise.
You were like a breath of fresh air from the chaos of his main friend group and someone he felt entirely comfortable with. Except lately he's been wanting to see you more and more. He would catch himself staring at his phone hoping a text from you would pop up, asking him to come over again.
He's embarrassed to admit that you have never hung out one-on-one outside of the walls of your apartment. It was an unspoken boundary that you two saw each other under the pretense of food, a boundary that he increasingly would like to cross.
You're not even looking at him, attention focused on scrubbing away at the pot in your hand, still talking about that awkward encounter with your neighbor yesterday. But the longer he stares at you, Hansol thinks to himself — have you always been this pretty? He traces every part of your form, from the micro expressions you make with your eyebrows as you talk, to noticing the little strands of hair by your face that escaped the ponytail you put it in, and the way your left sleeve is slowly slipping down your arm and in danger of getting soaked.
"...so screw me if I thought that it was none of his busine— Sol...?"
Before he even knew what he was doing he found himself abandoning his plate drying duty and sliding behind you at the sink, your back pressed against his chest as he grabbed your sleeve and gingerly rolled it up your arm once again. Just as he thinks you can't get any more gorgeous, his world stops when you turn your head around and he finds your face inches from his. The way your eyes glisten into his own makes the split second feel like an eternity before pulling away.
"S-sorry if I scared you, just didn't want your sleeve to get wet." adding a nervous chuckle to the end as he returns to the stack of tableware he has yet to dry.
"N-no! It's okay! Thank you for that!" you stammer back, trying not to look him in the eyes to hide the very obvious blush that spread on your cheeks. "Ahaha... yeah so anyways, what was I saying again?" Without missing a beat, he replies "you were talking about how your nosy neighbor thinks we're dating because I come over so often."
"Oh, haha, right..." your voice is barely above a whisper, a chuckle dies in your throat as you realize you've been scrubbing an already clean pot for 5 minutes now. You sigh as you turn off the water and start drying off your hands to put the dishes back in their places.
"I don't mind," he says after a thoughtful pause. It takes a second for you to register the words. "Sorry, what?"
"I don't mind if he thinks we're dating."
You feel like the hearing comprehension part of your brain just reset. "Wait, wha-"
"I think it would be kinda nice actually... if we dated."
After a second too long of silence from you, he was the one with panic with his eyes this time. "B-but only if you want to! Shit, uh, sorry I really didn't mean to make you uncomfortable or anything. Just forget I said anyth-"
He's interrupted by your arms snaking around his neck. "You're hopeless, Sol", you say as you press a light kiss to his lips. "I think it would be nice if we dated, too."
#seventeen x reader#seventeen imagines#seventeen fluff#vernon x reader#seventeen#seventeen fanfic#vernon chwe x reader
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(My sincerest apologies, but this is a male reader! He/Him pronouns!! Anyone can read of course, but if I find any comments of a fetishized nature, your comment will be deleted and you will be promptly blocked! Thank you!!~)
Wendigo’s are spirits that claim body over the dead and force the risen corpse to eat the flesh of their brethren, turning others into flesh eating creatures such as themselves.
Changlings were many things, but the one thing they all had in common was that they were placed in the cradles of human children who were snatched away in the night by fairies. They had the innate ability to change their forms and appearances to become something they weren’t, to convince others they were that new form.
Now… what if these two creatures were to mate? A creature of infinite flesh and identities and one of never endearing hunger for flesh and a spirit of famine?
You would get the second in command of the young Schoenheit. Vil’s right hand man and assistant since birth.
(y/n).
He was of average height, average build, average hair color, average eye color, average everything.
Nothing about him stood out amongst the gorgeous crowd of those whom he would work with.
Though, he had an innate eye for beauty and details, even in the most of drab places. He had the ability to turn any old lump of coal into diamond. He could spot anyone and turn them into a star.
That’s why his parents worked out a deal with Vil’s.
(y/n) works with Vil to keep appearances and popularity stay shining, and Vil’s family will continue to house and tend to (y/n)’s.
Fair, yes?
Well it was, for some time anyway. Before Vil was whisked off in that Ebony Carriage guided by those horses of bone, off to Night Raven College, leaving (y/n) behind.
Leaving his friend behind.
At least, (y/n) would like to say they were friends, but he knew better. He was nothing more than another tool in Vil’s arsenal to keep him in the spotlight, but honestly? (y/n) couldn’t complain.
After years of being a glorified servant of the other, he grew an attachment to the blond/purple haired man. Seeing him everyday was apart of the fae boy’s daily routine and him being missing from it was already messing with him.
Even though Vil had only been taken shipped off around a day ago. But that wasn’t the biggest issue.
The biggest issue would have to be the fact that an Ebony Carriage had come for him a few nights before, and in a fit of rage he destroyed it.
Though he did more than just throw stones or bricks, he intended to send a message. YOU intended to send a message.
A message asking why the fuck they would dare try to separate you from your *kostbar schimmernder stern.
You broke the coffin in, shattering the glass surrounding it. You did torch the wood of the carriage, and completely destroyed the small mirror that rested on the top of that forsaken coffin.
You sent it on its way as a warning.
Only to come and regret that decision as you watched from the tree line as the carriage that now held the sleeping body of your friend rid off under the moonlight.
After his leaving, you barely left your room, only carrying out your job with… lesser clients via email or a messenger. Though if not in your room, you’d be in the forest, most likely with your parents.
Speaking of, all your life you kept your family heritage a secret. Whenever someone wanted to meet your parents - such as Vil’s parents - they’d speak through a servant or you. Not to say that they looked inhuman, in fact, they were like you in human forms. Both shockingly average.
But rather because neither, no matter how much practice they had, they could never get over their… urges.
Your mother was a very, very old wendigo, older than most fae really. You could hear her cries beyond the gates of the house, the signs of a successful hunt. Never was she not bloody, her hair drenched in the red, sticky substance and her teeth stained crimson. She carried the scent of death with her everywhere, and sometimes you could see her “fixing” her body, otherwise known as sewing her skin back together. She had made an effort to never allow you to see her “true” form, but that was for naught as very early on in your life you had seen her stalking back to the house, two dead bucks trapped in her maw as her bones and joints creaked with every movement.
Her bloodshot eyes meeting yours. Blood dripping off her skull and large, sharp antlers onto your dolls.
You personally could say the dolls looked better dressed in red.
And your father, ever the trickster he was. With a glance of the untrained eye, and he would seem entirely human. Though, by living with him you could both see and feel, deeply that something was wrong. How his joints would twitch and jut in odd ways, how his expressions were always just slightly off the mark. How he wouldn’t eat, wouldn’t drink. How he never slept or even breathed. If you pressed into his skin enough, you could feel a wooden texture beneath the flesh, and his eyes were dull, as if carved from stone.
His teeth twitched as though alive, and his throat would make the oddest noises, such as bark rubbing together or leaves rustling against each other. Sometimes you could find him staring into the forest, his eyes completely blacked out, his body changing and shifting. His arms too long and his legs too short. His hair both shaggy and sleek while long and short. Haunting noises scraping themselves from his throat.
And sometimes you could hear something respond.
After Vil left, you’d go hunting with your mom, seeing the love she put into every kill for you, as you began to eat with her. She forbade you from eating meals with her due to her diet, but seeing how upset you were, she made an exception.
The feeling of raw deer flesh on your tongue as you gnawed on bones to help clean your teeth, feeling blood run down your chin as you shoved your face into the neck of a fresh kill, your mother kneeled over in her true form, chuffing and licking at your back with love. The grime of dried blood and small hairs beneath your nails as you clawed deeper and deeper into the corpse.
You found a beauty in it.
The beauty of life and death; the circle of life, you supposed.
You’d do the same with your dad, him helping you with your magic output. Finding out that you had inherited your mothers instincts with your fathers innate ability to change. Not your signature spell, but a powerful magic nonetheless.
You spent your days inside or with your family as grief at the loss of your friend consumed you.
You regretted not going when you had the chance. You wanted and needed to find a way inside that damned school.
As you cuddled into the warmth of the pile your family had formed on a pile of blankets and pillows under a window that allowed sunlight to stream onto you, you began to form a plan.
Didn’t that designer work there? What was his name…
Divus Crewel?
‧꒰˚ʚ🎀ɞ˚꒱ ‧‧꒰˚ʚ🎀ɞ˚꒱ ‧‧꒰˚ʚ🎀ɞ˚꒱ ‧‧꒰˚ʚ🎀ɞ˚꒱ ‧
It hadn’t been hard really, to get in contact with the fashionista, but after a couple emails you finally got one back.
The school year had started by now, so designing for him was more of a pastime right now rather than a job. But that didn’t stop others from making requests. And no matter how punctual he was with his years of experience, there would always be something or someone to throw him off. Having someone to manage a schedule and otherwise would be a large help, and with your rather impressive portfolio, you knew he’d be bound to say yes.
And yes he did say.
You were scheduled to move to NRC in a few days, packing your belongings in a large suitcase. You heard the door open to your room but didn’t move from your packing instead letting your mother walk to you. You closed the suitcase in time the stopthe blood splatter from the large dead bear she dropped to touch your clothes. Finally looking up at her, she had a small smile on her patchwork face.
“Eat.”
That was all she said but you understood. Usually - with you anyway - the hunts were small with deer or bucks, the occasional fox, wolf or small bunny for a snack. But a bear, that was something worth celebrating. Not to say your mother couldn’t catch something larger, but it was the largest thing she caught for you.
It was a parting gift.
You knew that hunting would become a scarce activity and that’d you’d once more need to get acquainted with regular foods, so this was a very welcome gift, as after this it’d be nothing but cooked meats for you, unfortunately.
Your hands easily gripped the flesh through It’s fur, tearing a large chunk off its neck. You ran a hand through the thick coat before tugging, and with a swift pull, nearly all fur came off the chunk.
You brought the bare skin to your mouth, sinking razor sharp teeth into it. You could tell it was fresh, from the mass amounts of blood that spilled down your chin. The disgusting sounds of flesh being chewed could be heard throughout the home as your father walked in, in his hands a box.
You placed your bite down and rubbed your hands on your pants, turning to him. He stepped over, not minding the blood now on his shoes, and crouched dow, placing the box in your lap.
He ran and hand through your hair as you took in the box.
It was white with a large red bow, small black accents patterned across the top.
Gently untying the bow and lifting the top, a butchers set and a makeup set lay before you, in the center a small gemstone mixed with purple and red sat before you. Picking it up you realized what it was.
When practicing your magic, your parents would offer up an old wand or pen, as was customary. You had yet to do anything with your own life, in the sense that you had yet to fly the nest.
And here you were, making your first decision for yourself. One that would lead you away from here.
From them.
A magic gem.
You could feel the power dripping from inside it, pushing into your being and forcibly flowing through your veins. Looking at the knife and makeup brush sets you noted the small indents in parts of their bases. You gently placed the gem in the sharpener - it was the most normal looking compared to the others, looking like a metal wand - and waved it a bit, small sparkles emanating from its tip.
You stared at the duel sets, then gently set the sharpener down, before leaping up and hugging your father. Your mother quickly got up as well, wrapping her much longer arms around you and your father, none of you minding the blood staining your clothes.
Tomorrow was a new day.
‧꒰˚ʚ🎀ɞ˚꒱ ‧‧꒰˚ʚ🎀ɞ˚꒱ ‧‧꒰˚ʚ🎀ɞ˚꒱ ‧‧꒰˚ʚ🎀ɞ˚꒱ ‧
“Glad to see you made it in one piece.”
You stood before Divus Crewel, sciences teacher of Night Raven College and fashion designer. Together in the hall of mirrors, he motioned you forward and began to walk to another mirror, to what you only could assume were the teachers housing.
Dragging behind you were multiple bags, considering the contract you both came up with required you to be on campus the whole time you were employed during the school year, if only to keep you close. The black and white man apparently much more preferred face to face meetings over calls and e-mails.
Divus looked back at you. You had at least five large suitcases and a slew of smaller bags, but were carrying them with ease. By now you had both stepped through the mirror towards his current home and were simply walking the trail to the building, but you were keeping up with his brisk pace with no problem.
He’d be a fool to say he hadn’t heard of you. Just like all the models he worked with, your name was all over the high world of acolytes. You had clients in every circle, and not one of them was dissatisfied. One of the youngest in the business, at only eighteen, Divus would’ve expected you to be a bit ‘shaky on your legs’ so to speak, but you held yourself up high, no signs of stopping or of any fatigue.
Such an interesting boy you are…
“I meant to ask before, but what made you so eager to ask for this role?” Crewl was many things, but stupid wasn’t one of them. He knew Vil had just recently came to NRC, leaving you without your biggest star. So to reach out to Crewl just a few weeks later, he had a feeling he knew why you were here. But he wanted to see if you’d admit it.
“I had recently seen your work. And after… ‘loosing’ Vil, a lot of my work time has dropped. I needed to be busy again, after my few weeks of down time. I hope you understand, fashion is a bit out of my expertise, but I figured it’d be a fun new experience.”
Crewl opened the door to the rather large mansion-like building, guiding you down hall after hall, you immediately making note of every twist and turn as the salt and pepper haired man showed you to what you assumed would be your room for the rest of the school year.
“I see… well, these will be your living quarters till the end of our current contract. I will leave you to get situated for tonight and will show you around the school tomorrow. This weekend will be spent showing you around the rest of this building and fully ironing out your role and duties under me, understood?” You nodded.
“Good pup. Have a good night.” You stared at the back of his head as he walked out of the room and closed the door. You immediately looked around the room taking it in.
It was large, much larger than your own back home. High walls with near ceiling to floor length windows surrounded you, the walls painted in grays and black with hints of purples and golds.
A tribute to the Headmaster of this place, you assumed.
Your new Alaskan king sized canopy bed sat in a corner with sheets that matched to walls, the only other furniture being a desk with a chair, a nightstand, and a dresser. You sighed, knowing your pockets were about to be drained in order to personalize the room.
You walked over to a door, opening it to find the largest walk-in closet - next to Vil’s - you’d ever seen. The damn thing even had a couple levels.
Then you checked the bathroom, which had a glass shower with far too many buttons levers, a quite large and wide clawfoot bathtub, a large vanity with two sinks - why would you ever need two??? - and a towel closet that, again, was much to large for its intended purpose.
Though curiously, in the back of the towel closet, was a magic imbued safe. Quickly figuring out that it responded to a spell of the users choice, you choose a spell of Wendigo nature and unlocked it, walking back to the main room and taking out both sets of “wands” your father gave you. You removed the sharpener from the box and took the others back into the bathroom, quickly pushing them into the safe and locking it back up.
Now, it was time for a room makeover… or the best you could right now, anyway.
‧꒰˚ʚ🎀ɞ˚꒱ ‧‧꒰˚ʚ🎀ɞ˚꒱ ‧‧꒰˚ʚ🎀ɞ˚꒱ ‧‧꒰˚ʚ🎀ɞ˚꒱ ‧
The last of your clothes are placed into the closet and sighed. All unpacked, all that was left was actually giving the room a makeover, you were just stuck between actually putting in some elbow grease and doing it yourself, or just magicing - is that a word? - the room and being done with it.
As you pondered, you glanced out the window, noting the moon was starting to rise, sky dark and shining with stars. At that same moment, your stomach growled. You huffed and walked over to the window, staring out at the back of the building, noticing in a forest behind it. In fact, you now recalled that a forest surrounded the damn thing.
How… convenient.
You grabbed your wand and threw on a pair of boots and an over coat that was already painted a deep crimson, as well as a small satchel, and stalked out the door, humming quietly to yourself.
You snuck through halls, hypersensitive to any boards that seemed a little too loose for your liking. You leapt over railing and fell to the first floor, opening the front door silently and closing it behind you. Your nail grew into a point, and you entered it to the lock, locking the door back into place. Then, you took off into the night, rushing through trees.
You dropped to all fours and ran faster, taking in the night air.
You heard your limbs snap as your form changed, long and jagged antlers protruding from your head as the skin melted off your face. Your limbs lengthened and your legs became unguligrade, bones cracking and rebuilding themselves. Your awkward run became a strong gallop, your body thinning until your ribs pushed through your skin and spine protruding from your back.
You sniffed the air, taking in the scents of different animals that desperately ran from you already, your presence already disrupting the peace of the forest simply by being there.
… a little doe was nearby.
Your head snapped in her direction. Skin that was still rotting off you flying off from the sheer force of your head. You leaned low, head nearly touching the floor of the forest, stalking towards her direction.
Your breathing was shallow, antlers lightly scraping the branches above you. Slowly, the doe came into view, lightly munching away on grass and flowers in the moonlight. Tan fur flowed in the wind, ears twitching and nose sniffing.
She was beautiful.
When you came into the clearing, her head perked up immediately, looking at you. You huffed and stayed low, tail wagging behind you in wait. She stared for a moment longer before quietly diving back down into her meal. If you had lips, you would’ve smiled.
You continued to crawl forward, the doe no longer caring about your being there, caring only for the flowers she feasted on. You finally came to a point where she was only a few feet away, her scent searing into your nose, making your already shallow breathing harder.
You stalled, letting the wind brush through your fur, before you strike. And the moment came.
You leapt from the ground, jaw crunching around her neck before she could make a noise. Blood licked your nostrils, splattering across your form as the sickening snap of her neck resounded through the forest.
Without hesitation you marred her pure flesh with your tainted teeth. You tore through her skin to the meat, biting down on her shoulder. You shredded the muscle, chewing till bone then working your way down till nothing but the guts remained, to which you began to shift back.
Your body was still covered in the sticky blood. You made sure all your clothes shifted with you, counting the layers in your head. With a nod you whipped out your wand and whispered a spell, the remaining guts and bone bunching themselves together. With the small satchel in hand, you scooped up the remains and began the trek back to the house, moon hanging in the sky, the only witness to your brutality.
You went the way you came once entering the establishment, steps light and airy. You made it to your room in record time, waltzing into the bathroom and hiding your cloak and boots in the back, near the safe. You removed the pouch from a pocket and set on the sink as you washed up, a quick shower rising you of your sin. You and the pouch made your way into the bedroom and the pouch made its way into a small drawer in your nightstand, a chilling spell placed over it as you snuggled up in the side sheet, satin pajamas hugging your figure.
It was only a few hours you slept, rising when the suns rays had just barely touched the surface of the world. You rose with no hesitation, wide awake almost immediately. You rushed to the bathroom and began your morning ritual, having picked up some tips from Vil as the years went by. Face creams and masks, makeup of all types. You’d gotten so good that you knew you could rush with no restraint.
You had more than enough time before school started, hell, you knew you were most likely one of the only people awake. But it was for a purpose.
You needed to be on the good side of the teachers above all.
You may have only been employed with Crewl, but throughout your day, you mostly only be speaking and seeing the teachers. Rushing to your drawer - without changing. There was no need right now - you took out what was left of the doe. You slipped on some fuzzy slippers and rushed down the halls, again, missing all creaky floorboards and sniffing the air, following the smell of herbs and coffee in the mansion.
You made it to the kitchen without trouble, opening the pouch and feeling around in the pouch, removing the intestines.
Sausage was on the menu this morning. You hoped no one was a vegan.
It was easy to begin cooking. Vil loved your cooking. No one could do it right like you, he constantly said. Once more, you were fast and effective, starting the coffee maker. You also started some eggs and hash browns, biscuits and chopping fruit.
You multitasked, buttering the biscuits and flipping eggs, making both sunny side up - a personal favorite for you - and scrambled. As you took the hash browns out, you heard shuffling behind you, as well as the meowing of a cat.
… Can cats eat sausage?
You turned around and met the gaze of an older man with greying hair and a black cat around his shoulders.
Mozus Trein… and his cat, Lucius.
“I assume you are Crewl’s new assistant?” Short sweet and strait to the point. You simply nodded, taking the fresh made sausage out the pan and letting it cool off to the side. With a step, you took the cup you placed from under the coffee machine, turning back to him.
“Do you like anything in your coffee? Or do you prefer it black? Or, would you prefer anything else?” Lucius jumped off from the older man’s shoulders onto the island counter, him taking a seat and crossing his legs. You noted he was fully dressed for the day, despite it barely being six am.
“Milk and two sugars, thank you.” He hummed. The glanced away before turning back. “And would you mind grabbing the paper? We get it delivered, should be at the door by now.” You nodded and took off, not looking back.
Now that it was light out, you took your time to examine the halls a bit more thoroughly. Paintings lined the walls, each of different landscapes that painted the world of Twisted Wonderland.
The most prominent being - of course - the seven lands in which The Great Seven all hail from.
The Queendom of Roses, Sunset Savana, the Coral Sea, the Scalding Sands, Briar Valley, and others.
Each portrait was lifelike. Each snowflake glinting back at you and each thorn looking as though you’d cut yourself if you poked at it. You could see each individual grain of sand and scale on a fish. It was impressive.
Finally making it to the front once more, you were met with a man who was getting ready to head out. He had dreads and was wearing something akin to a suit, though a waiter’s apron was tired to his waist. You had come from behind, so hearing you he turned, and you also saw he had white paint streaked across his skin.
“Now, who may you be?” He asked, you staring becoming blatant. Your eyes didn’t move from analyzing him, grunting. After another moment of silence and the man seemingly starting to sweat, you hummed, moving to the front door and throwing it open. You quietly picked up the newspaper and turned back to him.
“Crewl’s new assistant, (Y/n).” Was all you said, though you kept staring. After another moment of silence, he seemed to note that you were waiting for him to introduce himself.
“Well then uh… names Sam. I run Mr. S’s Mystery Shop. Pop by if you’re in the need for anything..?” He drew off as he watched you walk away, back in the direction of the kitchen.
“What a weird kid…”
Your steps once more echoed in the halls as you re-entered the kitchen, seeing that Mozus had helped himself and served himself up a plate. Before you could announce yourself, however, a large hand clapped itself on your back, making you stumble forward.
Without a word, you fell face first onto the floor, newspaper still in hand.
Still, quiet silence followed.
“Uh… you okay, kid?” Your grunted, still lying on the floor. A hand, the same one you guessed, grabbed you by the scruff of your sleep shirt and yanked you upward, you still like a kitten. When you were dropped back onto your feet, you turned and found the PE teacher, Ashton Vargas.
You nodded at him before he could speak and wondered over to Mozus, who was watching the whole interaction with little care. You gently placed the newspaper in front of him and he thanked you with a nod, Lucius meowing at you.
You then faced Ashton, holding a hand out. He grasped it and squeezed - though you’re sure it was unintentional - and shook it with vigor.
“Sorry ‘bout that! Ashton Vargas, PE teacher here at Night Raven. You?” You nodded in kind.
“(Y/n), Crewl’s new assistant. Pleasure.” Your face remained blank through the interaction, gaze breaking for a moment only to look at the breakfast you’d prepared, then looking back at the rather built man.
“I’ve prepared a breakfast if you-“ “I’m good, thank you.” Your eyebrow raised in question and the man laughed, making Mozus groan.
“I already ate about… twelve-dozen eggs this morning during my pre-school work out!” Your eye twitched at the thought. Due to your biology, you could ingest raw egg no problem, but to eat twenty-four strait raw eggs just sounds… you couldn’t do it. So instead, you simply nodded and walked over to the food, grabbing a bit of everything before looking back at the two.
“Where is Mr. Crewl’s room?” Ashton blinked before nodding towards the door.
“Just down the hall, he’s closest to the kitchen actually. Shocked he ain’t out here yet honestly.” You nodded and made your way out of the kitchen, walking steadily down the hall, balancing the plate on one hand.
Walking down the hall, you kept an eye out for the correct door. You didn’t want to open a closet or anything. But suddenly, someone crashed into you. Crewel fell from the impact, your form still standing strong with the plate of food unmoving.
“Where were you?!? I’ve been searching for ten minutes now!! Come come, time is waisting and I still have to put you in uniform.” You tilted your head as Crewel stood back up, walked behind you and began to push you to what you could only assume was his room.
“Uniform?” You questioned. Crewel sighed, but smirked as well. “Yes uniform. A little something a threw into our contract at the very end. You don’t mind, do you?” You grunted. Should’ve seen something akin to this coming, you supposed, but you couldn’t loose this. You hadn’t even seen Vil yet.
“Fine.” “Good, now, come along.” And off you both went, to gain your new uniform.
‧꒰˚ʚ🎀ɞ˚꒱ ‧‧꒰˚ʚ🎀ɞ˚꒱ ‧‧꒰˚ʚ🎀ɞ˚꒱ ‧‧꒰˚ʚ🎀ɞ˚꒱ ‧
The uniform wasn’t too bad. A fluffy tailcoat - with coat tails, not real ones - that went to the backs of your knees, a vest that was the reverse of his in terms of color, black dress pants and black dress shoes. You looked nice, in your own opinion at least.
As you looked yourself over in the mirror, Crewel sat at his desk, munching away on the breakfast you made.
“This is pretty good...” He mumbled as he watched you twirl in the mirror, taking in every part of your new outfit. He hummed, placing his fork down and grabbing his teacher pointer and standing.
“Come on, let’s not waste anymore time. I’ll give you a quick rundown of some things I’ll need you to do at the school, but as I said, we will fully go over your duties during the weekend. Understood?” You nodded and walked out with him, patting your body and sighing when you felt your ‘wand’ in your picket.
And off you both went. Walking the trail towards the gate that would lead to NRC.
To your new life for the next couple of months, maybe even years.
Something inside you, your heart perhaps, beat rapidly at the thought of seeing Vil again, even if just for a class period. You were… excited?
Yes, excited.
It was time to begin. To get your Vil back.
Nah I gotta split this motherfucker up because what in the hell-
I’m so fucking tied but I wanna continue this but it’s already so fucking long- eh I’ll finish it later have this-
Love you guys <3
#vil shoenheit x reader#vil x reader#vil schoenheit#twisted wonderland#twisted wonderland x reader#twst x reader#x reader#yandere reader#male reader#x male reader
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