#thanks again for this ask even tho i forgot about it for a while | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

raainberry · 1 day

Text

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

#momo x reader #twice x reader #hirai momo #twice momo #momo imagines #momo fluff #momo angst

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whenim64 · 5 months

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Jonessmith. Discuss (is so so bad at thinking of questions)

so much that I could say

I’m gonna start here even though I already posted about this before but I definitely think Mike fell for Davy first and kept it a secret for so long and never intended to do anything about it. Silent pining. Davy would fall hard for Mike but would also try to keep it a secret to not ruin their friendship, eventually tho it would come out that he loves Mike, whether he acts on it or says something or Mike just figures it out (or Micky and Peter try to set them up bc they know they like each other hah).

I talked about date ideas :) so im going to jump into some reasons why i like them paired together

I think they are really well suited for each other bc they tend to be on the same page, like Mike can start saying something and Davy will pick up on it and add to it. like for example in Monkees Race Again when they’re explaining why the engine blew up and Mike says it makes the car lighter and Davy adds “so it goes faster” (Micky does this too! but I like to think Mike and Davy are really good at picking up on little things from each other so they do it more often)

I also love their contrasts with the obvious being British/American (specifically from a southern state cause they got an accent difference going on). Mike’s bit of country twang vs Davy’s broadway type ballad voice. I think they have very complimentary sounding voices and the live on the Johnny Cash show version of Nine Times Blue is my favorite for this reason (the monkees should’ve done more duet/group-type songs rip).

Their other obvious contrast is their tall guy small guy thing! I’m not usually one for height difference ships but they’ve turned me onto the idea :D I really love the way Davy can just lean his head onto Mike shoulder and Mike can rest his chin on Davy’s head 🥹 Davy is also the perfect height for Mike to just drape his arm over his shoulders. Also I really love how grabby Davy is, he is with all the guys but it’s extra cute when he’s pulling on Mike’s sleeves or hiding behind him because Mike likes being the protector and caretaker of the group, so I think it’s a nice dynamic for them. Also I like to think that because Davy is so grabby he’s probably also a cuddler. I just know he always ends up spooning Mike even if that’s not how they fall asleep.

Random headcanons:

Mike definitely uses romantic nicknames and my favorite one he uses for Davy is “doll” (i know the special nickname used in fics is honeychild and that one is sooo cute too)

This one kinda goes along with Davy being touchy but I know he loveessss wrapping his arms around Mike’s waist either as a hug from behind or just to hold him while standing next to him. He just can’t resist it me too Davy

Davy obviously has great puppydog eyes bc he’s so pretty and young looking but Mike’s puppydog eyes when he decides to use them are an instant knockout you just can’t say no to him.

This one is nsfw: I do see them as a switch couple but primarily Mike tops bc I think he would feel like there’s more control being in a “dominant” position and also he likes being the provider (a service top). But Davy does get to top occasionally and when he does he puts his all into making Mike come apart under his touch, LOTS of foreplay until Mike is whimpering and even begging 😳

ok since this has been sitting in my drafts for 10 days 🫣 im posting it as is but i may come back and add more to it if i think of other stuff, or if you want me to expand on anything ive said lmk!

if anyone else wants to add to this pleaseeee feel free I would love to hear other people’s thoughts or random headcanons 🩷🩷🩷

#thanks again for this ask even tho i forgot about it for a while #well i didnt forget i wanted it to be better organized but its still scattered and undetailed wahh #64answers #jonesmith #showverse

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wanderingchocolateeclair · 1 year

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Hi!! I waited a bit to ask this bc I didn't want to overwhelm you or anything, but I've been wanting to ask about your Greatest Showman au?? Could you talk about that please :O

OMG hello!! I cannot tell you how happy I was to get this ask-

I am. ALWAYS happy to talk about my aus, please feel free to send me ANYTHING at ANY time /gen :D!!!

Greatest Showman AU!!!! Of course!! It has been a long time since I talked about this au, and there's.......different routes for the au if that makes sense.

So to start off, if it isn't clear, most of my aus are made bc of me listening to music or musical songs/film music, and this leads to this sort of thing happening-

I made this au bc I watched the film and said "what if I drew my fav ships as the different songs?"........I still have the sketches for these that I want to finish one day-

It is a mostly Edgejeanist and Ectoloader focused au!!! (with a dash of some others)

(forgive me for my lack of knowledge on terminology and also for completely forgetting everyone's names /lh)

Main AU:

So basically follows the storyline for the most part!

Ectoloader are the married couple bc what kinda au would this be if I didn't make them a married couple /lh

They had the whole Childhood Friends -> Lovers things and do Circus Things together - they own the circus

Ecto did tightrope acts and I haven't figured out pl yet tbh-

Edgeshot is a Trapeze artist.

Jeanist is the guy that gets dragged into the circus by Ecto and they have that lovely Moment(tm)

Mic is the guy who gets the crowd all worked up, Aizawa does trapeze and that ribbon-y stuff- (lord help me i do not know terminology)

Cue romance and Circus Shenanigans between everyone!

Plenty of injury moments and fantastic performing stuff!

Shinya and Tsunagu get to have their 'Rewrite the Stars' Moment!

Ecto goes away to tour with Snipe! (nothing like the musical, just goin on a lil fun trip with a friend)!! Circus goes to shit!

FIRE SCENE!!!

Jeanist runs in to save Shinya, who was already out, who now runs in to save him- Tsunagu is very hurt.

Ecto loses his legs in the accident (suggested by an anon a while back and i really loved it)

Mic gets stuck, Aizawa rescues him!

Angst and Comfort ensue!!!

Not a lot of thought apart from "this is fun to imagine the characters playing as.....the characters..from the musical..."

yeahhh

And for fun, here is the "just here for the music" route:

All pro hero characters are kinda putting on a show, and these songs are being performed by certain characters.

(i have a big hc that Jeanist, Ectoplasm and Nighteye are besties... they're called 'The Distinguished Gays'...)

So the song 'The Other Side' just went perfectly imagining Ecto convincing Jeans to join him while Nighteye tended to the bar......idk its so fun to imagine in time to the music-

Jeanist and Edgeshot perform 'rewrite the stars' bc <3

'Come alive' is Aizawa and his students

'The Greatest show' is All the teachers and their students and some of the ua alumni popping up and making appearances!

And finally 'This is me' is absolutely everyone, and they get to have their cool moments and show off themselves and idk that song makes me feel things.

I often imagine the canon universe characters acting/voice acting in musicals for fun so yeah lol

Well! I hope that makes sense!!!

Thank you SO much for asking, I genuinely got so excited to see this ask bc <3333

#tw caps #Greatest showman au #eclair's aus #ectoloader #edgejeanist #erasermic #mhm!#i am. SO happy you sent this Thank you so much :D #i get so excited to see asks in my inbox and EVEN MORE so when someone asks about my aus ty <3 #always feel free to ask about any of them i LOVE talking about them :D #damn i need to watch this again its been too long actually #also unrelated but this reminded me that the majority of this au just stems from back when i was into haikyuu and #made a small fukutora kaiyaku self indulgent au- that was... a very long time ago but i remember the drawings.......(terrible drawings LMAO #most of its recycled from that bc i dont think ill be getting back into haikyuu for a while lol #just a random memory i completely forgot about huh dfgdg #ANYWAY #i hope you like it!! (tho its kinda messy and doesnt have a lot to it)#i have so many au ideas i need to talk about

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atticrissfinch · 4 months

Text

I’ve Got My Red Dress on Tonight | (joel miller x fem!reader) (18+)

Part 5 of Meet Me in the Back

pairing: sleazy gas station clerk!joel miller x fem!reader summary: When your Valentine's Day date doesn't show, you decide there's one person who would be happy to see you. warnings/tags: [18+ MINORS DNI] age gap (no specifics), drug use (marijuana), daddy!kink, fingering (vaginal and....anal!!!), v brief foot fetish, squirting, praise!kink and degradation!kink (use of slut/whore), unprotected PIV, creampie, some ~touching in public, smoking, taking pictures mid-coitus, really nasty gross fluff i'm sorry about it. lemme know if i forgot something i gotta go fast i wanna post word count: ~7.8k jesus christ | ao3a/n: much thanks for the anon who suggested a V Day fic for these two <3 Thank you to my love Iris @papipascalispunk for making sure my commas and em-dashes are where they're supposed to be. ALSO. Chloe, resident sleazy!joel expert, wrote a little drabble inspired by Joel in this fic!! Please check it out after you've read this chapter! The Sighting by ChloeAngelic <3 Divider by @saradika-graphics ❤️ Taglist Update: I have decided to decommission my taglist in favor of an updates blog! Please follow @atticrissfinchupdates and opt in for notifications to get notified when I post a new fic! Series Masterlist | Masterlist | Kofi

The dress feels ungodly tight, but you had figured it would be worth it.

It wasn’t.

In fact, the dress hasn’t seen anything but the inside of your apartment.

Your hair was done just the way you love it, you pulled out all the stops with your makeup, and you had squeezed yourself into this glittery, red mini dress that makes your tits look stunning, which you bought just for this night.

You’d been out with Brent twice before, and even though you’d thought it was a little early in your “relationship” for a Valentine’s Day dinner, when he asked to “make it a special night” for you, you agreed. The last thing you wanted was to be alone on this godforsaken holiday.

Well, at least he’d had the courtesy to give you twenty minutes' notice that he was bailing on you instead of just leaving you waiting on your couch wondering if he would come at all.

Now you’re just waiting on your couch, wondering what the fuck to do.

You open your messages on your phone and swipe away from your broken plans. The next thread under it is Joel’s.

Joel: i swear 2 god i saw one tho

You: you did not see a UFO, Joel

Joel: yes i did!!! it was way the hell up there flashin its lights!!! saw it clear as day!!!

You: that was most definitely just a normal plane, old man. Turn off Ancient Aliens once in a while.

Joel: ur gonna be real sorry wen im FAMOUSS for findin the first REAL aliens 👽 🛸

You: I’m sure I will be

Joel: u can make it up 2 me by flashin me them headlights of urs again 😈

Joel: honk honk 😈

You: Bye 🙄 😒

Joel: 👅

A smile tugs at your lips as you read through the conversation from earlier this evening. You hadn’t told him about the date. Or dates, rather. If this one had gone well, you might have. If things wound up back at your place and actually moved a step toward something.

You deflate against the back of your couch. Because there’s nothing now. Just you, your suffocating dress, and your stupid heels. The vicious claws of insecurity start to scrape at the back of your neck.

Brent didn’t want you. You weren’t good enough. You’re not good enough for anyone.

Tears prick at your eyes and you dab them with the side of your finger to keep your mascara intact, following it up with some deep breaths and your head tipping back between your shoulders, forcing the tears back into your skull.

That’s not true, you recite to yourself. You know there’s always someone who’s happy to see you.

Another deep breath.

Someone who would be dead on his feet seeing you dressed like this.

On your next breath you’re already shimmying out of your panties and checking the mirror to make sure no one is getting a free show who doesn’t deserve it.

You scurry as quickly as you can to your car, shivering so fiercely it feels like your goddamn pussy has goosebumps from being exposed like this. You weather through it, chanting in your head some quote you heard about how hoes never get cold.

When you get to the gas station, you scamper from your car into the store, shuddering when the heat hits you once you open the door. You tug your dress down and glance around, not immediately seeing Joel anywhere. He’s not at his usual spot, parked behind the counter. You venture further into the shop, peering down the aisle.

“Evening,” someone says just behind you, and you jump, whirling around.

It’s not Joel. It’s some other schmuck with a scraggly, graying ginger beard and a crooked, lumpy nose. His smile is friendly enough, but it lacks that trademark sleaziness that typically oozes from the person you’re accustomed to seeing man the store. His name tag reads Walter.

“Evening,” you squeak out, cringing and clearing your throat when your voice spills out much higher pitched than you expected. You tug on your dress again.

“Help you with anything?” he asks, and you’re relieved to find his gaze holding steady on yours, not drifting elsewhere despite the swathes of skin on display in your chosen outfit.

Joel wouldn’t even be able to begin to know where to fucking look, your mind provides, and you find yourself trying to come to terms with the apparent fact that… Joel isn’t here.

He isn’t here – on Valentine’s Day.

“I’m, um…I’m actually looking for Joel?”

Walter’s eyebrows shoot up, then fall into a furrow. “He been hiring on the clock again? Goddamn it, I told him not to fucking do that anymore,” he mutters, shaking his head down at the floor before looking back up at you. “Miss, I’m real sorry, I know you’re doing honest work and all, but I can’t have that shit here.”

It takes a moment for you to fully register what he’s saying, but when you do, your eyes go wide. “Oh, sir, I’m not— you’ve got— no, no. I’m just a friend of Joel’s.”

“I'm sure you are, Miss, but I—”

“I’m not a prostitute,” you insist under your breath, glancing around to ensure no one is in the vicinity. “I swear to god, I just had a date tonight, or I was going on a date, and then I wasn’t, and— I swear, I’m just dressed for a date. A normal date.”

You’re not sure your frantic insistence has Walter very reassured, but he just nods, a skeptical look in his eye. “Well, in any case, he’s not here. He’s got the night off.”

“Got it. Okay, thank you,” you say, wincing a little at the palpable awkwardness. You rush past him to leave, your heels clicking loudly, and apparently, whorishly, across the floor.

“Stay safe out there, honey,” Walter calls after you.

Your car is blessedly still harboring warmth as you clamor back inside and start the engine. You catch your breath and mull over what to do next.

He wasn’t there. On Valentine’s Day. You feel like that can only mean one thing. Something squiggles and squirms in your belly at that thought.

You have one more shot, and you take it, speeding off toward the outskirts, hoping you can go fast enough to drown out the weird feeling in your stomach.

—

His truck is there. And it’s alone in the gravel next to his trailer.

You see light through his weeping blinds, a warm yellow glow accompanied by periodically flickering colors that you assume is his television. A good sign, you think.

The wind whips around your bare legs as you climb his steps carefully in your stilettos, staring up to admire the waxing gibbous moon shining absurdly bright against the speckled black sky. You lean against the dilapidated railing of his tiny porch in front of his door. The sky is never this bright where you live. It fills you with a sort of warmth. Comfort. You hear the distorted sound of voices on his television and the faint aroma of weed seeping out the frame of his door.

You don’t hear anyone else.

So you knock.

You hear a nasty cough from the other side of the door and the volume of the TV ticking down. The door swings open and you’re hit in the face two-fold—with a wall of smoke and a wall of bare-chested man.

Joel blinks and squints reddened eyes as he blocks the entire doorway, billows of haze attempting to escape around him to the fresh air. Then recognition glows in his eyes and his gaze drifts. Up and down. And his jaw goddamn drops.

Your arms clasp at your back as you rock on your teetering heels.

“Hi.”

Joel crams his eyes shut again, shaking his head like a dog like he’s trying to clear a fog over his vision. But he opens them again, and you’re still standing there, and he expels a long, narrow breath through his lips.

“Jesus fucking Christ. This is heaven, right? Or— jesus— fuckin’…hell, in that devil of a dress,” he shakes his head again, slower, more like disbelief, and a smile pushes at your mouth. “You just showin’ up on my doorstep? Dressed like that? I must be fuckin’ dead.”

You temper your broadening grin, reining in your utter delight at receiving exactly the reaction you were craving. “So, you’re saying me, weed, and…” you crane your head to peek at his television, “And SVU is your idea of heaven?”

“Damn near fuckin’ close,” he says, a reverence about his tone as he drinks you in gratuitously. He pulls himself out of his stupor and hurriedly gestures inside. “Jesus, sweetheart, come in. Gotta be freezin’ your gorgeous tits off out there.”

His hand falls to the small of your back as he ushers you inside, the sweet tang of his evening stress relief burning stronger in your nostrils in his living room.

Joel shuts the door behind you both and lets out a sharp whistle. “Sweet Mary Mother’a God. That fuckin’ ass,” he mutters under his breath.

You peer your head around your shoulder to take in the sight of him, just as he does you. One hand frozen against the door, soft belly poking out over the hem of his sweatpants, dark hair sweeping over the curve of it and up his chest. And, of course, that fucking tent at his crotch, growing larger by the second.

“Be still my fuckin’ heart – the hell are you doin’ here in that, darlin’ girl?”

Your cheeks begin to heat.

He’s never said it like that. Darlin’ girl. It’s usually some iteration of one or the other, but never together.

Darlin’ girl.

You fill in a blank for yourself — unintentionally, but so fucking naturally.

My darlin’ girl.

Where your stomach was squirming, it now flutters. You swallow it down. Pull your mind back. You just want to feel wanted. That’s why you’re here.

Then he’s at your back, pressing all of him against you. The softness of his torso, the scratch of his facial hair, the hardness of his cock. Planting feathery kisses along your neck with teasing bites.

A giggle bubbles up your chest and you free up more of your neck for him to devour. “I’m here to see the stupid aliens, you dumbass.”

His lips pause on your neck. “Oh yeah?” he mumbles against your skin.

“Yeah,” you laugh lightly, “Where’s your flying saucer? Your flashing lights?”

Joel’s hands sweep up your sides and cup your breasts through your dress, squeezing them tight in his grip. “Right fuckin’ here, baby,” he growls into the underside of your jaw, “Let me turn ‘em on for ya.”

You throw your head back with another easy laugh and you feel the shape of his smile against your cheek as he massages your covered tits.

“Mmmm,” he hums, rocking his hips against your ass, his massive length nestling and sliding between your cheeks over your dress. “Come smoke a bowl with me. ‘N then tell me why you’re dressed like living sin in my living room.”

“How about you just fuck me,” you sigh, tangling your fingers into Joel’s hair and holding his lips to your neck.

“‘Cause I wanna stare at you in this dress a little while longer ‘fore I rip it to fuckin’ shreds,” he says, his words increasingly muffled by the exposed skin of your spaghetti-strapped shoulder.

A shiver trembles down your spine and you take a steadying breath. “Okay. Then you better detach before all that shit goes out the window.”

Joel takes a deep breath and rolls his forehead over your shoulder with a moan. “Smart. You’re so goddamn smart. So goddamn pretty. Got my Peter pipin’ up a storm down there.”

You roll your eyes and will yourself forward, toppling onto his sagging couch with him trailing along behind and groaning as he sinks into it.

Your hands go to the straps on your heels and you begin to unfasten when you hear a definitive nuh-uh. You glance up and Joel’s eyes are fixated on your blood-red satin heels. “Don’t you fuckin’ dare.”

“Really?”

“Really. Those naughty fuckers stay on,” he orders, and you have no choice but to let your hands fall away.

“Okay, then.”

Joel’s tongue darts out to wet his lips briefly. “Shit. Alright. Where the fuck was I?”

Joel busies his hands – his focus – with topping off the contents in the bowl of his bong. He graciously offers it to you.

“Light it for me?”

Joel smirks and flicks his lighter as he holds the glass contraption steady.

Once you’ve taken a healthy puff, Joel sets the devices aside and crooks a finger under your chin, coaxing you forward. The burn curls in your throat as you hold the smoke. Joel’s nose traces a delicate line down your cheek before hovering his parted lips over your mouth and tracing his thumb over your painted red lip, smearing the color down your chin.

“Let it out,” he mutters, his heavy, rosey stare shimmering into yours.

The smoke cascades from between your lips into Joel’s waiting mouth where he inhales it with practiced ease, holding it for a moment before exhaling the remnants of it over your face with a lazy smile.

“So fuckin’ sweet spillin’ outta that mouth, little Sugarplum,” he croons, continuing to futz with the color on your lips.

You wrinkle your nose at him and laugh. “Dude, you’re so fucking high right now, my asshole would probably taste sweet.”

“It does,” Joel drawls, rolling your bottom lip down and watching it snap back up. “I got first-hand ‘xperience. Or…first…mouth…” Joel’s train of thought floats off from there as his eyes transfix on your lips.

“Another hit, please.”

That refocuses his attention and he nods, a little sluggish. You take the reins this time, lighting the bowl yourself and savoring your pull.

As you exhale again into the thick air of his trailer, Joel takes another, more modest puff to maintain his already achieved high.

“Shit, I needed this,” you groan, feeling more and more boneless as you melt into his couch. “That’s good shit.”

“I don’t skimp on what’s important,” Joel mumbles, slumping over until his curly mop plops into your lap.

You chuckle at him, stroking a hand through his hair and receiving a very pornographic moan in response when your nails scratch against his scalp.

“Fuckin’ Christ. You’re my fuckin’ angel. Angel in devil’s clothes.”

Cleverness begins to fail you as the cozy tendrils of the weed start to lighten your brain into something a little more relaxed. So you just sink into the couch, playing with his soft locks and humming to his lethargic babble.

When you’ve waded through the deepest of the haze, Joel sits back up, cradling his cheek in the crook of his arm as it balances on the back of his sofa. “So what are you doin’ here, Sugarplum? You get all dressed up for me? ‘Cause I somehow doubt that.”

You smirk at him in what you hope is playfully, but lands somewhere closer to dopey. “Why do you doubt that?”

He just fixes you with a telling look, and you concede.

“Okay. No, I um– I had a date tonight.”

Joel nods, a little exaggeratedly in his current state. “Pretty little thing had a date. ‘Course she did.”

“Well, I did,” you say, pulling your legs up onto the couch and folding them to your side, maintaining what seems like a silly level of modesty given your present company. “Until he canceled on me about twenty minutes before he was supposed to pick me up.”

The divots between his brows seem to grow impossibly deep at that. “You gotta be goddamn jokin’ me. No fucker in his right mind would stand up a thing like you.”

You dip your head down, picking at the fraying threads of his couch cushion. “Not so sure about that.”

“I am. I’m damn sure.”

You shrug, “I just didn’t want the dress to go to waste.”

“Sure as hell didn’t.”

You hum in response. Picking. Tugging. Picking. Tugging. Until you feel fingers pinching your chin and guiding your attention up. And his eyes are still watery, still tinged with red, but are so unwavering as they burrow into your own, brimming with wetness for a wholly different reason.

“Hey,” he utters, soft as anything, soft as his hair, soft as his belly, soft as his eyes. “It sure as hell didn’t,” he repeats, and waits for you to acknowledge it.

And you do, with a small nod and sniffle.

“Good girl.”

Your lip quivers at that, and the words tumble out. “Fuck me. Right now.”

Your back hits the seat cushions and his mouth is on yours, tasting sweet and a little bitter as his tongue strokes between your teeth. His noises pitch upward as you tug lightly at his hair, and his knee situates itself between your legs, providing you with delicious friction against your already dripping core.

Joel’s breath wafts hot over your ear as he rasps, “You take your panties off for him or for me?”

“For you,” you reply breathily, moaning as he nips and licks at your ear, his increased breath reverberating in your head so loud it makes your pussy throb with the influx of intimacy.

“All for me?” he asks, maneuvering a hand down to where you’re wet and begging for him, “Goin’ commando in this tight ‘n tiny little number, riskin’ givin’ anyone on the street a flash of your drippy little slit?”

Your moan bounces off the walls when he slips two fingers inside of you, pumping and curling them with a rehearsed accuracy that has pleasure fraying your edges as soon as he sets his pace.

“And you brought it here to me? Brought me this sexy, heart-shaped box of yours all wrapped up in a pretty package?”

“Yes, daddy,” you breathe out, wrapping a heel-clad foot around his waist to spread yourself open for him, “Brought it for you. All for you. Please.”

“You gonna come for me, you naughty little angel? Come on daddy’s fingers.”

You whimper as he strokes at you with those fingers, his other hand descending on your clit to rub circles with his thumb. Your hips buck into his hand on your clit and down onto his fingers pistoning inside you, and you feel yourself coming apart all at once, your voice breaking as you call out for him.

Joel showers you in praise as he fucks you through your release, resting his forehead on your temple. “Good fuckin’ girl. All that for daddy. Good girl. Squeeze daddy’s fingers, just like that, baby. Fuckin’ shit. So fuckin’ pretty.”

A whine kicks up in your throat as the overstimulation starts to throb in your clit, and you bump at his hand to stem the sensation. Joel’s fingers web through yours as he pins your hand above your head on the arm of the sofa, his two fingers slowing to a methodical crawl within your pussy.

“Love how you feel around my fuckin’ fingers, sweetheart. Love seein’ how tight you clench around ‘em, knowin’ I’m about to stretch you wide open on my cock and feel you just as tight.”

“Fucking love your cock, daddy,” you keen as your hips undulate in time with his continued ministrations inside you. “Wanna be filled with it right now.”

“You want daddy’s cock now?” he teases, the tips of his two fingers dragging delightfully against the most enticing spot of your inner walls, drawing a tender gasp from your lips.

“I really, really do,” you whimper, grinding onto his hand harder, “Need you to split me open, daddy.”

“Can I get a ‘please’ all pretty-like for me?”

You whine again and nod. “Please, daddy. Fill me with your cock.”

“You deserve it, don’t you, sexy girl?”

And the way he asks it, the way his eyes bore into yours when he does, you feel like he’s asking you to admit to more than you’d otherwise be willing to offer yourself.

Tell yourself that you deserve good things. You deserve this pleasure.

“I—” your breath hitches as his fingers crook inside you again, your nerve faltering at your lips.

Joel’s lips part as he keeps drawing your pleasure tighter again, and you feel your core building that pressure again. “Tell me. Tell daddy you deserve his cock.”

“I— I deserve it,” you force out through the mounting pleasure in your brain, gasping when his fingers pick up momentum. “Oh, god, that…it feels…”

“Yeah, pretty girl? You’re doin’ so fuckin’ good for daddy, I can feel it too. You deserve this, baby,” he coos, releasing your trapped hand to press firmly above your pulsing cunt. “Fuck, you’re so goddamn wet for me. Show me how wet you are for daddy, make your little hole gush for me.”

“Daddy, I…oh,” you squeak out as a wave of pleasure washes over you, pulsing out your limbs. And more than that, you feel a steady stream of liquid flow out of you, you hear the wet slap of Joel’s fingers, his palm, as it floods his hand.

“Oh fuck, that’s it, baby. That’s it, darlin’ girl. Soak my fuckin’ hand. Such a naughty little bitch. Squirtin’ out your filthy little snatch for daddy. That’s fuckin’ right,” he babbles as his palm smacks lewdly up against your cunt with a fresh wave of wetness.

Your hips jolt with the heightened sensation, and you can’t muster anything more than barely audible moans as Joel fucks you until you have nothing left for him to coax out.

“Fuckin’ shit, sweetheart. Messy fuckin’ girl,” he grunts as he wipes his dripping hand on his sweats before tucking both behind your knees and spreading your legs to admire your drenched, finger-fucked cunt. “So juicy for daddy, huh? Daddy’s gonna slide his big straw into that sloppy little juice box of yours. And when I’m done you can suck on his big straw like a good little girl. How’s that sound, sweetheart?”

“Can you please just fuck me?” you beg, slipping the straps of your dress off your shoulders to push your dress and strapless bra below your tits. Joel stares hungrily as you play with them for him.

“Fuck me. Yeah, your little box is ready to get stuffed, ain’t it?” he moans, tilting his head to the side to kiss up your calf and up to your ankle, still encased in your shoe. His teeth bite at the strap and buckle, skimming his lips wetly down the curve of your foot to the arch of it and sucking at the side of it he’s able to reach.

“Joel,” you whine helplessly, desperately as your pussy screams for that bulge in his pants to bury itself inside your body instead. “What the fuck are you doing.”

“Worshippin’ my slutty little goddess. You blessed me with this little dress, this tasty little puss, so I’m gonna show my appreciation,” he mutters into your foot.

And it shouldn’t feel good, but you’ve never had anyone put their lips on your feet before, and you’re so fucking horny for this man, you let yourself feel it. Your other heel drapes over his shoulder as his mouth drags over the slope of your foot and back up your ankle.

“Such a pretty outfit, so I’ve decided not to tear it apart. Nasty little whore, you made it easy to access whatever I want anyway,” he chuckles a bit, gliding his teeth up until he can bite at the skin under your knee.

You groan and press your head into the couch cushion, “Not the first person to accuse me of being a hooker tonight.”

Joel pauses for a second with a suspicious look. “Who was the first? Better not’ve been that shitty fucker who stood you up, or I’ll deck his lights out,” he says with a gentle aggression that has a rolling heat burgeoning in your stomach for a reason you can’t quite place.

“No, it was that old guy at your work tonight.”

Joel cocks his head. “Walter? Walter said you were a hooker?”

“I said I was looking for you and he just…assumed, I think. You hire hookers on the clock? ‘Cause he seems to think so.”

“Only a handful of times,” he mutters, his eyes going shifty, uneasy, almost…embarrassed. “I don’t wanna talk about that. Not with your slutty little hole winkin’ at me like that.”

“Fair enough,” you dismiss, tapping your heel against Joel’s back to spark his attention. “Stop making me fucking wait for what I came for.”

“Already came twice,” Joel says under his breath, but he uses the hand not gripping the back of your knee to work his cock out of its confines, springing out angry and red and as intimidating as ever. He leaves it bobbing free as he takes up his hands behind both of your knees to spread you wider. “Guide it where you want it, pretty girl. He’s all yours.”

You bite your lip at those words. He’s all yours. Your hand wraps around his girth before you let your mind race too far. You stroke him softly and revel in the way his chin droops down to his chest and a groan rumbles in his throat at the first real stimulation of his cock.

“Let me feel that red velvet pussy, baby.”

You finally notch the fat head of him at your entrance and wiggle your hips down the couch, gasping as it parts your opening with a dull sting. When you capture Joel’s gaze, you beg softly, “Fuck it, daddy. She’s all yours.”

His face caves into an expression so aroused it almost looks painful. And then he’s groaning to fill the hush of the room and spearing into your cunt with every inch of him at once.

You’ll never get used to the sounds that he pushes out of you when he fucks you full, when he enters you for the first time and smacks you in the face with how gigantic he is in comparison to the tight ring of your pussy. Like a wounded animal, like prey falling to a predator, like you’re irreversibly changed once he’s claimed you for his own.

His rhythm sets off harsh and frantic and consuming, keeping your legs spread to feast his eyes upon your ravaged flesh.

“Fuck, so goddamn perfect. Feel so perfect around my cock. Milkin’ daddy just right with this tight little hole, aren’t you, baby?”

“Yeah,” you whimper, tweaking your hardened nipples between your fingers and massaging at your tits as his hips smack against yours, the drenched state of your pussy enhancing the sound.

Joel secures your legs over his shoulders and leans in over you, bracketing your head with his hands and snapping his hips into you as you cry out with the change in angle, pulling him deeper inside you.

“Yeah, daddy’s so fuckin’ deep, huh? You love this fuckin’ cock? You love daddy fuckin’ this dirty snatch so fuckin’ deep?”

“Yes,” you keen, flinging your hands back to dig your nails into the arm of his couch and using it as leverage to fuck yourself down onto his length as he shoves it in, falling into a blissful harmony.

“Fuck daddy’s cock, slutty girl. God, I fuckin’ love that. Suckin’ it right up your cunt like a pro. Pussy’s so tight I got it molded to my cock now, don’t I? Ain’t gonna fit right with no other cock, is it?”

“No, daddy,” you whine, plunging yourself down onto him again and again just to feel the tip of it dragging along your cervix in that way you have come to fucking crave. Joel’s cock fucks you open and curves up into that perfect spot inside of you in the most flawless rhythm, and it has you spiraling into another orgasm with no discernible warning. You pussy clenches and spills around his cock, soaking the both of you with what Joel had already primed you for with his fingers.

“Jesus fuckin’ Christ, baby,” Joel moans as he lets his cock slip out of you to watch you gush onto his thoroughly soiled couch. He fucks back into you in a single push and withdraws again, just to see more of it rush out. Joel fists his cock and slaps it down onto your spread folds in a series of heavy smacks, then rubs the head of it against your clit as the rivulets cascading from you subside. “Gushin’ like a fuckin’ jacuzzi. Where you been hidin’ this little party trick?”

“I don’t fucking know,” you pant out, trying to get a grip on your shaking thighs as Joel’s cock slides through your folds. “Fuck. I didn’t know…”

“Well if anyone was gonna teach you, it would be your big dick daddy, now wouldn’t it?” Joel brags, smacking the full length of him against your lips and lower belly.

You twitch with residual aftershocks as the weight of him jostles you, and Joel chuckles.

“You’re shaking like a leaf darlin’,” he says, tapping one of your quivering thighs. “Flip over for me. Daddy’s gonna dick you down real good.”

“Gonna?” you squeak out, staring at him incredulously, “What have you been doing so far?”

Joel presses his lips together to stifle a laugh and smacks at your thigh again. “Ego’s already big enough, darlin’. Don’t go pumpin’ it up for me now.”

“Can say that again,” you mutter with a small smile, but flip over until you’re flat on your stomach and resting your head in your arms. “Big dick, bigger ego.”

Joel grunts behind you as he settles on top of you, slipping his arm under and around your shoulder and nuzzling into your neck. He grinds his cock into the cleft of your ass before pulling back and aligning it at your entrance again with his hand. He hums in your ear and says with laughter in his voice, “Imagine if it was my ego I was shovin’ into this tiny cunt. You’d be fucked.”

Your reply is replaced with a gasping moan as he presses back into you at a different angle, this one rubbing intensely along the front wall of your pussy. The groan you release is embarrassing, abhorrent to your own ears, but Joel’s answering moan has all concern fluttering from your conscience.

“How’re you still so fuckin’ tight after I’ve fucked you open so many times, huh, Sugarplum?” he asks, voice clearly forced out through his teeth, like he’s fighting for his life not to spill his load inside of you in the next few seconds. But he bottoms out and fucks you slow, staying balls deep and making a home for himself there in the deepest part of you. “Jesus, need to dust off the ol’ cock ring. Wanna fuck you for hours, baby. Fuck you raw and stupid on this dick. Fuck you ‘til you fall asleep on it, you’re so goddamn tired. Fuck you ‘til you forget what it feels like to not be stuffed full of me.”

“Daddy,” you whimper into your arms, already overwhelmed by the sheer heft of this man making room for himself inside your body, not even giving your pussy an ounce of space to relax that isn’t around him, isn’t on his terms. “Feels so fucking good inside. So fucking big.”

“I know it, sweetheart. So good at takin’ this cock. That first time I thought you was gonna pass out on it. And look at you now – shakin’ and beggin’ for it like a bitch. You daddy’s bitch, nasty girl?”

“Yes,” you whine as Joel starts to slam his hips harder, faster into you, “Yes, I’m your bitch, daddy!” And you’re suddenly screaming it for him as his fingers dig into the back of your shoulder, holding you steady as he uses you.

“Fuck yeah,” he growls out, hoisting himself off you and hauling your hips into the air along with him. He fucks down deep into you as you moan into the couch, allowing him to take what he’s rightfully earned from you, simply by appreciating you, knowing how to make you scream, knowing how to make you come.

And you’re fairly dizzy with the experience, but you aren’t far gone enough to not feel the slippery thumb massaging circles against the tight ring of muscle he’s only ever explored before with his tongue.

A mewl escapes your lips as the tip of the digit teases your resolve.

“You gonna be my little slut, baby? Let daddy put his thumb in your ass. It’s real good for ya. It’ll be real good,” he speaks in breathy pants as his cock maintains its devastating tempo.

You let out a pitiful whimper, and you’re only partially surprised that the only answer in your head is yes, yes, yes.

It’s apparently also on your lips, because without even registering that you’ve said it aloud, Joel is rumbling out a deep and resonant, “That’s my darlin’ girl.” You swear you feel your eyes roll back in your head as the possessive praise inextricably clings itself to the sensation of his thick, meaty thumb gliding into your asshole up to the knuckle.

It shouldn’t feel this good. It shouldn’t feel this good having his cock filling you to the brim and then even more of him filling your ass. You’ve never liked anal, you’ve never even been interested in it, but this fucking tornado of a man has everything spinning in your head, disorienting your thoughts, screaming at you that what you thought was wrong is so, so right.

“Lemme get a picture of this, sweetheart – of you all plugged up with me.”

“Okay,” you gasp, constricting your grip around his thumb as if needing to hammer into your head that there’s a finger in your ass. A thick finger. He can probably feel his own cock through the separating skin.

Joel groans as you flex around his finger. “Spread yourself for the camera, baby.”

Your hands move to your cheeks and you can’t bring yourself to feel shame for this. Not for shit like this, with him. Not anymore. He makes you feel dirty and sexy and beautiful and worth his time. Why the hell wouldn’t you want to document this?

“Fuckin’ hell. Just like that.” You hear a series of shutters, and then his thumb slides out of you and he uses it to pull at the small established gape he’s made of your asshole. A few more shutters and Joel is muttering perfect, fuckin’ perfect, as he tosses his phone aside.

The words flow through you like hot honey tea, even if you weren’t meant to hear them. How does a man like him make you feel so treasured when you’re with him? You don’t belong to him, but he treats you like you do, in the most respectful of ways. He drags you down with him into the depths of his depravity, and yet once you’re there, you’re pleasured like… like a goddess. Like his goddess.

Joel’s hips ramp up again, timing his thrusts with that of his thumb as he fucks you in both holes at once. “God, so fuckin’ beautiful like this. Wanna stretch this hole open until you can take this whole cock up your ass, baby. Spill my load in there, watch it drip down your cunt.”

And you had said unequivocally no. You had said, not tabling. Off the table. But, god, deep down you know he’d make it feel so good. Somehow, he’d make it worth it. And it’s fucking killing you. You can’t admit that to him, you can’t let him know that you’re convinced he could make anything feel good. That’s too close to something. And this isn’t something. This is I make you feel good, you make me feel good, and we go our separate ways.

So you just moan for him in response. A verbal confirmation is too much. Giving him too much power over you. And Joel seems too lost in the clutch of your body to parse the difference.

“Velvet fuckin’ pussy, darlin’,” he chants to the rhythm of his hips colliding with yours, and you’ve come to recognize the telltale signs of his impending orgasm. His sounds start to fluctuate in pitch, his hips more stuttered in their movement, his fingernails indent your skin as he frantically clings to the final moments of euphoric crescendo before the cymbal crash.

And crash it does, announced with an unabashed groan of sheer pleasure as he spills himself inside of you again, so many times now you’ve lost count, lost sense of the level of responsibility in your actions. Too feral, too dependent on the soothing, post-fuck tranquility of his come dripping from the deepest part of you. A balm to your stretched, aching wound that he caused, because you asked him to — keep asking him to — again and again. A reminder of where he’s been, what he’s done to you, what he’s done with you in all these private moments.

He slips himself free, and you feel the trickle of him, evidence of how much he’s pumped into you. Leaving you open and gaping, yet so fucking full of him, even after he’s gone. Pulled out and dripped free of your heat and hold.

Lazy kisses paint up your back where your dress has ridden up your spine, and then back down to bite more reminders of him into the flesh of your ass, until he guides your hips flush to the couch and blankets you with his weight.

Minutes of quiet breath-catching tick by, feeling the scratch of his hair where your bare skin meets along your bodies, until Joel breaks the silence to say, “Stupid bastard was out of his fuckin’ mind.”

And you’re not positive why, but you feel tears stinging your eyes again. You steel yourself, refuse to let them fall, force them to dry out before they betray you.

You clear your throat of any traitorous frogs before you speak again. “Sorry about your couch.”

“Nothin’ to be sorry ‘bout,” he reassures, grunting quietly as he shifts himself off you and slips behind instead, pulling you into him, “Plus, Doreen’s got one of them special little steam cleaners she lets me borrow from time to time. Get it cleaned up real nice.”

“Doreen?”

“Little old lady ‘cross the way,” he says into your hair.

You do your best to turn slightly and look at him. “You’re friends with the little old lady across the way?”

“You doubt my charm?”

Your eyes search his face — the wide, dopey smile, the drooping eyelids, the dwindling glassy rose in his eyes from the weed — and you smile back.

“Maybe. Feel like you would be a kind old lady’s worst nightmare.”

“Nah, I’m a good boy. Just ask my mama,” he quips.

“Sure,” you joke, positioning yourself back into a proper little spoon.

You feel a kiss on the back of your head. “Gonna step out for some fresh air and a smoke. Keep me company?”

You grumble as Joel props himself upright on the couch and pulls his sweats back up. “‘S’cold outside,” you groan, watching him as he stands and slips on a shirt from where it was strewn onto the back of a chair.

Joel studies you where you lie, your dress a flimsy accordion with the top and bottom convening at your torso, leaving Joel’s favorite bits on display. And as much as you assume it probably pains him to have your body hidden from his view, he says, “You can wear my coat.”

Your eyes light up. “Yeah?”

Joel masks a grin and grabs the coat off the peg by the door, throwing it to you. You know this coat. You’ve worn it before. And although you don’t want to give yourself away by inhaling its scent too gratuitously, you don’t capture any hints of your perfume on the fabric in your covert sniffs. It’s been too long.

You push yourself onto only moderately shaky legs and work yourself back into your dress properly before slipping your arms through the coat and zipping it around you. You feel a bit like a giant marshmallow in the padded utility jacket, but when you look back up at Joel, there’s a shimmer of something in his eyes, on his face. And something like a twitch in his mouth, like he wants to say something, but thinks better of it.

You’re not sure you’ve ever seen Joel hold his tongue over anything, so it’s likely just a trick of the light, the lingering effects of your high.

Joel’s eyes only tear from you to swipe up his smokes and lighter from the coffee table and step into a pair of slides before he’s leading you out the door.

The cold is bitter, but Joel’s coat is warm enough. Your legs prick with the chill breeze as Joel sticks two cigarettes into his mouth and lights them both, handing one off to you. You rest on the railing with him side by side, taking reasonably synchronous puffs as you stare up at the moon, the stars.

A couple screams at each other a few lots down, their voices only muted by the distance and the persistent, humming buzz of Joel’s porch light.

“Right on cue,” Joel mumbles around his cig as he scratches his beard. “Kev can’t keep it in his fuckin’ pants for the life of ‘im.”

“Mmm. Sounds like someone I know.”

Joel’s sidelong glance is sprinkled with a sort of childlike mischievousness as the corners of his mouth lilt. “Maybe so. But I wouldn’t step out on my girl, though.”

His lingering gaze has the back of your neck growing hot. You hum in agreement as you take another drag, tapping the ash with fingers half-obscured by the length of Joel’s sleeves and watching as it falls to the gravel below.

Joel flicks the ash of his own smoke against the railing to plop down next to yours, and exhales a cloud as he stares off in the direction of the feuding couple’s trailer. “When I got a girl, that’s all I need. And it’s been a rare blue moon that my girl ever went and got it somewhere else.”

He takes in a steady, clean breath and shrugs with his head before continuing. “And whenever they did, they came crawlin’ right back. Always come to find that their daddy lays the best pipe. Ain’t never seen one of my girls spread ‘em open for no one else after they stepped out the first time. Not ‘til after it was over.”

Your focus catches on his lips as they wrap around his cigarette again, the barest concave of his cheeks as he sucks, the pout of him as he expels into the night air. And you ache to say something. You feel heavy with it.

The opening chords of a melodic ballad fall upon your ears, and you both swivel your heads in the opposite direction of the screaming pair. Instead, you’re graced with a couple coming together in an embrace, slowly rocking to the music floating from their porch.

A soft laugh escapes you as you watch them wistfully. “Now that is how a Valentine’s Day is supposed to end.”

Joel glances at you. He takes one last drag from his smoke and tamps it out on the wood before dropping it into a chipped mug on the railing, housing a dozen cigarette butts. He holds a hand out to you and tilts his head toward the pavement.

You stare at his outstretched hand, and your mind trips over itself to unravel the intent behind it. “What are—”

“Dance with me.”

Your eyes snap up to his, and you’re met with an easy smile on a disheveled, glassy-eyed, gorgeous man. Braving the cold in sweats, a wrinkly and hole-riddled Henley, and slides on tube-socked feet. Asking you to dance while clad in his coat and your stilettos.

You chew on your lip as you watch his fingers wiggle impatiently as your cigarette butt kisses Joel’s in the mug when you discard it. And then as your hand slides into his.

“Atta girl,” he praises you softly, tugging you down the steps with him and onto the pavement.

Joel isn’t fancy with it. He just pulls you close into him, wrapping his arms around your waist as you drape your head on his shoulder. He sways the two of you from side to side following the beat of the music. Your heels scrape the asphalt, your nails scratch the back of his neck, and his hands dip below the hem of his coat to tease at the round of your ass over your dress.

“Sure I ain’t said it enough, but you’re a goddamn knockout tonight,” he rumbles quietly into your ear, his fingers groping at the bottom curve of your cheeks to emphasize his point.

And after your date flaked on you, after you got dolled up for him, got your hopes up for a nice night, and had your plans disintegrate between your fingers, just for Joel to swoop in and illuminate your sky with stars, those words spear right through your heart.

And you know you should say something traditionally sweet back. Something like thank you or you too. But as those softer words rattle around your brain, you feel wetness trickling down your inner thigh, and you opt to whisper something more personalized. Something you know Joel would find sweetest of all to fall from your lips. “I can feel you dripping out of me.”

A groan vibrates up his chest and one hand slips between your bodies until you feel the cool press of his fingers at your cunt.

“Fuck me, darlin’,” he breathes, bringing up two thick fingers for you to see, glistening opalescent in the moonlight.

He doesn’t ask, you just drop your jaw and stick your tongue out for him, sucking your shared juices off his skin as your eyes lock. He pulls them free and replaces them with his mouth, tasting the two of you off your tongue. Joel’s hand nestles under your dress once more to cup your pussy. Not to slide inside, not to get you off. Just to hold you as close as he knows how. To catch where the two of you fall.

He nuzzles your nose with his and tucks your face into his neck with his other hand as he sways with you. “Happy Valentine’s Day, Sugarplum.”

You sigh into his neck and lay your hand over his beneath your dress.

“Happy Valentine’s Day, daddy.”

Read Chloe's Account of Joel's UFO sighting here!

Taglist Update: I have decided to decommission my taglist in favor of an updates blog! Please follow @atticrissfinchupdates and opt in for notifications to get notified when I post a new fic!

#joel miller x reader #joel miller x you #the last of us #sleazy!joel miller #tlou #joel miller smut #joel miller fic #katy wroted fic #mmitb

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froggibus · 1 year

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Seeing Their Pact Mark For The First Time - Obey Me! Brothers

Summary: how they react to seeing their pact mark for the first time

CW: branding, marking, general possessiveness? suggestive (Lucifer’s and Asmo’s), jealousy (Levi’s)

more obey me content!! i am down bad for MAMMON rn so that’s what brought this about lol. also some happier content (thank god)

————

Lucifer

his is on the back of your neck

usually it’s hidden under your hair or the collar of your shirt so no one really sees it

lucifer is curious about it but doesn’t really care to ask

honestly he got really busy after the pact was formed and forgot all about it

you’re late for school one day and rushing to get ready in the bathroom when Lucifer walks by

you have your head down looking for something and he sees it on the back of your neck

literally stops in his tracks and does a double take

“so that’s where it is.”

jumpscare

he asks to see it again

has you sit down in front of him so he can play with your hair and rub his fingers across the mark

he loves that there’s a vow on your body binding you to him that only he can see

unless he gets jealous and “accidentally” uncovers it in front of someone

(also unrelated but imagine giving him head in a position where he can see it—him holding you by the pact mark and guiding you along his length)

Mammon

it’s on your back where your heart would be

you know what it means but you don’t want to tell Mammon about it

he would probably just make fun of you anyways

one day he comes to see you after school, and forgets to knock

unfortunately for both of you, you’re in the process of changing into your pyjamas

he walks in right as you take your shirt off, and he’s greeted by your back and the golden mark that resides there

definitely screams and hides his face in his arm

“w-why are you naked??”

“why didn’t you knock?!”

you finish putting on your shirt and lay down on your bed, stomach first

“mammon, you can open your eyes now”

he awkwardly does, relief washing over him when he sees that you’re fully clothed

“so what did you need?”

“was that my pact mark on your back?”

you agree and then ask if he wants to see it

he does but insists it’s just to see what it looks like (no other reason)

you lift the back of your shirt up and continue laying down on your stomach

Mammon feels really emotional looking at it

his pact mark, on his human?

he traces the outline of it, in awe of how it looks on your skin

neither of you say anything for a while, you just lay there contentedly while he runs his fingers over the mark over and over again

Levi

his is on your left thigh, just below where your underwear sit

what better placement for the Avatar of Envy?

you couldn’t find it at first, but you could feel it

when you did finally find the orange mark on your leg, you knew that Levi would implode if he ever found it

Levi sees you showing his brothers their pact marks and gets a little a lot jealous

doesn’t confront you about it tho and instead decides to go pout in his room about it

when you come in to check on him, he’s a little cold with you

“cmon leviachan, talk to me. what’s got you so upset?”

you have to listen to a five minute self deprecation spiral before he even tells you why he’s upset

“levi…you know that if you wanted to see your mark, all you had to do was ask, right?”

he’s a little embarrassed about it now but with some gentle coaxing you manage to calm him down enough and get him to sit on the bed across from you

when you start unbuttoning your pants, his face burns

“OMG y/n, w-what are you doing?”

“calm down, Levi…just, look, okay?”

you tug your pants down to your knees and stretch out your left leg so that he can see the orange mark

“open your eyes, Levi, it’s just my underwear”

Levi wants to argue that it’s not just your underwear but he shuts up when he opens his eyes and sees the mark

it’s on your thigh of all places???

if people thought he was a pervert before, what would they think of him now??

“Levi,” you say, trying to bring him back to reality

when that doesn’t work, you grab his hand and place it over your thigh

his hands are warm compared to your cold skin and it grounds you both

“are you better now?”

he nods slowly, unable to look at you while his hand is on your bare thigh

Satan

his is on the left side of your rib cage

it’s just hidden enough that even if you wear crop tops, he wouldn’t be able to see it

he definitely went around asking his brothers where theirs was in order to process of elimination where it is

he doesn’t want you to just tell him

he feels like he should be able to know/guess where it is just based on the connection

probably overworks himself trying to figure it out

finally, after a few nights of detective work and little sleep, you force him to lay in his bed

“I’m going to show you where it is, and in return, you’re going to actually get some sleep”

he begrudgingly agrees, propping his head up on the headboard to watch you

you straddle his hips and slowly strip your shirt off, adjusting so that he can see the green mark of wrath

his mouth goes dry seeing it

he definitely didn’t consider that it would be there of all places

reaches out and brushes his fingers across it

“is it everything you hoped for” you joke

but it really is everything he hoped for

Asmo

its below your belly button, stopping just above your pubic bone

it’s kinda the perfect spot for him too

a cute little pink swirl leading to your precious parts

Asmo likes to giggle and speculate where it shows up

honestly he hopes a little that it ends up over your heart, but he won’t be disappointed otherwise

loves to tease you about the mark too

one day you’ve had enough of his teasing and speculation though

“I’m putting this to rest, Asmo,” and you take him to your room and make him sit on his knees in front of you

you roll up your shirt and he can see just the beginnings of it under your belly button

then you unbutton your pants and roll them down to your thighs so he can see the rest of it

his eyes are practically glowing when he sees it

“it’s so pretty!!” he gushes

asks if he can touch it and you agree, gasping when his perfectly manicured fingers brush across your mark

presses a kiss to it and leaves a glob of sparkly lipstick behind

begs you to let him take a picture of it to keep (and may or may not set it as his Home Screen)

also expect him to be admiring it and touching it anytime he sees it

Beel

his showed up just above your belly button

he always wondered where it was but never thought to ask

if you wanted to show him, you would…right?

eventually gives in to his impulses and asks you directly

“y/n…” bro is sweating buckets

you’re genuinely worried something is wrong by how serious he is at first

“what’s up?”

“I just wanted to know…where’s my pact mark?”

you’re honestly relieved it wasn’t anything too serious

“follow me”

you bring him into your room and close the door behind him

honestly Beel starts to worry where it is

when you slowly peel off your t-shirt, he covers his eyes and his cheeks flush

you have to pry his hand off of his eyes to even get him to look

“beel—calm down. it’s on my stomach.”

he’s breathless when he sees the swirling red mark

asks if he can touch and you nod eagerly

his touch is gentle, calloused fingers smoothing over your skin

you’re not sure what prompts you to ask, but suddenly you’re looking up at him through your lashes and asking “do you like it?”

Beel doesn’t even know what to respond to that

of course he likes it

it’s a mark that ties the two of you together

instead of answering, he chooses to press a soft kiss to the centre of your mark

Belphie

belphie’s is a tramp stamp

it’s on your lower back, right on the spot where your t-shirt always rides up while you sleep

you’re half convinced that it only showed up there as a joke

Belphie never really cared much to see it either

like he always saw his brothers asking and fawning over theirs but he just…didn’t care

he always felt a bit of a disconnect regarding your pact tbh

he comes home early from school one day to take a nap and sees you already sleeping on the couch

you’re curled up in a ball, your face shoved in the cushions

and your shirt is twisted and has started to ride up as you move in your sleep

he sees the mark and his first thought is “y/n has a tattoo?”

he moves closer to see what it is and as soon as he realizes it’s his pact mark he almost falls over

it’s there of all places?

because of fucking course it is

he kinda just sits on the floor next to you for a while admiring it while you sleep

until he notices you’re shivering and feels like he has to do something about it

slowly pulls down your shirt over the mark he loves so much and lays his jacket on top of you

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cherriesformatt · 3 months

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a day || matt sturniolo

matt x fem!reader

summary: what would a typical day as Matt's girlfriend would look like

warnings: pure fluff

word count: 1,6k

a/n: idk let me know how I did English is not my first language but I am working on it

🍒

I was on my way from a long, Friday, morning meeting and all I was thinking about was going back to bed and never leaving it again. My week started with my car breaking down out of nowhere, then I got my period (which is not as bad when you think about it because it would be worse if I didn't get it), and then I had an actual meeting, in an actual office, with actual people (I usually work from home in my pajamas).

I had to drive my boyfriend's car to the meeting downtown. I am glad that I could, but let me tell you one thing, my boyfriend's car is giant and to park this lady downtown I needed to leave 30 minutes early.

chris 🦋:

waiting for u outside thx for picking me up kid ❤️

"oh fuck" I said to myself as I quickly did a U-turn before it was too late. Was it safe? No. Did everyone survive? Yes.

I totally forgot that I was supposed to pick up Chris from his own meeting since Matt couldn't because I had their car. I dialed Chrise's number.

"hi, ur okay?" he asked.

"yes, I just might or might not forgot to pick you up so I'll be there in 15 okay? I'm sorry I had a rough morning..."

"Bro no worries I'll pick up some coffee while I wait and you drive safe okay?" I smiled because wasn't he the best? He doesn't even drink coffee.

"Okay I'll see you there"

I ended the call and typed Chris's location. It wasn't that bad with the traffic so I was there in less than 15 minutes.

I was able to park where he was waiting so he got into the passenger seat and smiled at me while I started driving again. I really want to be home.

"I would say good morning but I'll keep that to myself. Got you an americano and banana bread" He put my coffee in the cup holder and threw his backpack on the back seat.

"Thank you, that's really sweet, I am literally half dead so that will help" I laughed and took a sip of my coffee.

"I still think that my brother is dating a weirdo, how can you even drink it black and unsweetened?" Chris looks at me with a disgusted face.

"You are all literally bunch of weirdos so I just matched the energy you know" I blinked at him and stopped on the red.

"How was your meeting? New fresh love is gonna be fire. I got the drafts in my mail this morning. Did not change a thing. You and the team did great" I said and smiled at him.

I was a graphic designer and helped Chris at the beginning of his brand, but I did not really want to work for him so I just help sometimes if it's needed. I am really happy that he still likes to know what I think about the projects tho. I also used to work for Laura but not anymore. That's basically how we all met. I quit after me and Matt started to be a thing.

"I know right? Well, I knew you will love it. The meeting was great, we should be able to make everything work by the end of the month. And guess what... I actually got samples and I have a pink set for you kid"

"Honestly... made my day, I am going to wear it for everything now" I laughed.

"Just don't post it yet" He said and started to click things on the car's screen.

"Just use my phone for music" I gave him my phone and he typed my code and put our favorite song by lil skies on.

"Still can't believe I memorized Niall Horan's birthday just to get to your phone"

I blinked at him and started rapping with the song. I loved make a toast. Music taste is probably one of the things that made my and Chris's bond strong. Don't get me wrong I love Nick as much as I do Chris, but he just always gets me and we were best friends since day one. The funny thing is that me and Matt did not really liked each other at first.

The ride home made my mood better. We sang and laugh, I wasn't tired of my life that much anymore. I took my shoes off while holding all of my stuff. Matt was on the couch watching something while we made our way up the stairs.

"Hi baby... How was it?" He asked as soon as he saw me.

"Crap, I am going to call Laura to take me back" I laughed and put my stuff on the table and went to wash my hands in the kitchen sink. I then walked up to Matt and just threw myself next to him to cuddle his side.

He kissed my forehead and started to rub my back.

"I am going to take a nice nap, you kids have fun but not too much" Chris waved at us and went back down the stairs to his room.

Matt rolled his eyes and kissed my head again.

"How about we do something nice together? Nick is going to come home with Madi soon, I think, and that means laud. We could go to that beach you like and just get food and watch the sunset later" He asked.

All I was thinking about was his cold hand on my back and how much I just loved that man. He knew exactly what I needed.

"Yes, please. I just need to change. I wore a bra man, can you believe this?" I sit back up.

He laughed at me and shook his head.

"Go then," He said patting my thigh.

I went to put my new fresh love set in Matt's bedroom, used the bathroom and when I was ready we went out.

"Wow, so it's your car now, huh?" Matt started to change the mirrors and seat but he also raised his eyebrows looking at my stuff next to the shift gear.

"Baby it's only essentials to drive, okay?" I smiled and got comfortable in the passenger seat.

We drove to get food and dessert. The weather was perfect to just spend an entire afternoon on the beach. Boys did not have any work plans today so I knew Matt was all mine for the rest of the day.

We sat on the beach, had our food, and just talked or cuddled in comfortable silence. That's what I mostly love about spending time with Matt. We could just sit the whole day without a word and be alright with it, but also we could talk for hours and we would always have something to talk about.

"I love you Matty, thanks for taking me to the beach. This new project sucks but I know it's going to be better after that. I really needed just you today"

I kissed his sweet lips. He tasted like the cherry Pepsi that we just had. He pulled me into his lap and slid his hands under my hoodie while he kissed me back.

I rested my forehead on his as I pulled away and smiled.

"Anything for my girl, I love you kid" He kissed my nose and I just wrapped myself around his body.

"I am not moving, you might as well carry me to your car like this" I said into his neck.

He laughed at that and hugged me back.

"Or we can just stay here" He lay back down on the blanket.

"I promised your brother that we are going to watch Criminal Minds with him tho" I said.

"Sometimes I just wish you and Chris weren't the same person y/n..." He joked and looked at his phone, holding it above my head.

"Let's go back after sunset in that case baby"

We did watch the sunset, my favorite part of the day. We came back home and spent time with his brothers as I had promised Chris.

"Spend the night?" Matt whispered in my ear while the last episode for tonight ended.

I smiled and nodded. I was off tomorrow and did not want him to drive me home that late anyway.

We said goodnight and went to his room.

"I will go take a shower" I said and opened his drawer to take a pair of boxers and a T-shirt.

"Go ahead, I went shopping while you were gone. I did restock your basket under the sink. I hope I did it right" He scratched his neck looking at me.

I had my stuff here, but I usually did the restock. Especially my period stuff under the sink.

"Matt...you did not have to do that, thank you, baby" I said pouting my lips.

"I wanted to, I want you to feel comfortable here. Not only you tho, all our girlfriends that come to our house. It's great that you did the basket and stuff" He smiled and I kissed his cheek.

"You are too sweet Matthew"

I went to the bathroom, when I was done he went to take a shower while I waited in his bed scrolling on TikTok.

When Matt came back from the bathroom I looked at him. He was wearing just his pajama pants.

"Should I just say what all of the girls in my books would say? Matthew, you are such a tease" I wiggled my eyebrows at him.

"Oh my god, would you stop?" He got into bed laughing at what I said.

"You love me for that" I put my phone on the nightstand and rested my head on his chest.

"Goodnight Matt" I closed my eyes.

He turned the lights off and tucked us in with the blanket.

"Goodnight sweet girl" He kissed my head while I was already half asleep after this long day.

The best way to end the day is knowing that I will wake up in his arms the next morning.

#matt sturniolo x reader #matt sturniolo #nick sturniolo #sturniolo triplets #chris sturniolo #sturniolo fanfic #matthew sturniolo #Spotify

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chaos-in-deepspace · 8 days

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LNDS: Bongo Butts | 18+

I should be going to bed but I forgot to do laundry so here I am, writing more content that nobody asked for. Just like motorboating them...when I see them butts. Just. WHAM BAM. Thanks for coming to my TED talk. Also hope you know I had to research different types of dump trucks for this fic.

Disclaimer: This is an original fan work for “Love and Deepspace”. Do not repost on other platforms or plagiarize. All characters shown in this fic is 18+. Warnings: Ass Slapping, Crack Fic, Playing their asses like they're bongos, Zayne's lost sanity, Rafayel is scandalized as per usual, you mentally scar Raf, Xavier is confused as per usual, but is he confused?, he does get you back tho

Blog Information | Masterlist

Xavier

Xavier really did need to be more careful around you. He was the one who wanted you to date him first, in your defense. He chose you. And you wouldn't let a single day go by that you didn't prove why that was a horrible decision on his end. At the very least, he could claim that he was never bored with you around.

Today was supposed to be a lazy day. You two had off from all missions and were relaxing around the apartment since it was too damn hot to actually go outside. It also happened to be laundry day for Xavier, so he was dressed in his workout attire while his uniforms were being deep cleaned from all the dirt that accumulated on them during his missions.

Those shorts. They were so damn short. You'd even call it slutty because hot damn. His ass was just right there. It was staring at you. Hypnotizing you like it was a snake charmer. Your hands were already twitching in a grabby motion as you stared directly at those perfectly rounded globes on his backside. His beautiful bubble butt.

Xavier could feel your stare burning into him as he looked over his shoulder. He was just sun bathing by the window, laying on his stomach. So vulnerable to your upcoming attack.

"Something you need?" Damn, he already sounded suspicious. It might've been by how you were practically drooling with your hands up, ready to grab at him. It was a slight give away. He should've been more prepared though, because you lunged at him in that moment.

He only had time to turn slightly when you pushed him back on his stomach, sitting on his back to pin him down. Your hands took a fistful of his ass before you began hitting them with little force. Just watching them jiggle with every little slap of your hands.

You were cackling like a maniac as you continued your assault until he managed to maneuver you off of him. You were laughing, your cheeks flushed as you almost teared up. His entire face was red as he stared at you in horror. Then you saw a flash in his eyes and you knew you were done for.

He grabbed you, pulling you onto his lap. Then you felt a harsh slap at your ass, making you squeal. It was so much rougher than you had hit him. He stared at your back side and did it again.

"I can see why you found this so entertaining. I think I'll play with this for now."

"Unhand me you creatine!"

"I think not, if I let you go, who knows what else you'll do to me."

Zayne

Anyone who has ever had the pleasure of laying eyes on Akso's best Cardiac Surgeon knew that one thing was a pure fact. He had an ass. His doctor's coat did a good job concealing it, but he couldn't wear it all the time. You had even noticed a few nurses who would glance down at him when he passed them in the hallway.

It was something you knew very well about Zayne, and something the man seemed oblivious to. The man didn't just have a dump truck as a rear end, it was a dump trailer. That shit could keep a family fed for an entire year. It was so perfect in every way. You could grab onto one cheek with both hands and you still wouldn't be able to capture the entire thing.

Yet for some reason, Zayne had no idea just how badly you needed his ass. You would often times find yourself staring at it when you hung out, had an appointment, or were just lounging at the apartments. It plagued your thoughts. You were losing sleep over this. It wasn't good for your health.

"Zayne..." You said as you relaxed on the couch next to him. You two were catching up on a TV show that you started well over a month ago but hadn't had time to really enjoy it.

"Yes, did you need something?" Oh how sweet he was, always looking out for you.

"Yes actually...can you lay down on your stomach for me? I wanna do something." You said, knowing that this man would do just about anything you asked. He eyed you for a moment, contemplating if he wanted to play this game with you.

"Might I inquire as to why?"

"That's for me to know, and you to find out."

Zayne took one more moment before giving in. He adjusted his position, laying down on his stomach just as you had asked. You decided to be subtle, leaning over his form and placing your hands on his shoulders at first. You gently caressed the skin there, massaging the muscles through his shirt as you slowly made your way down to the small of his back.

There it was. The prize. The holy grail of all asses. It was ripe for the taking as you looked over to see Zayne's closed eyes as he relaxed under your touch. You didn't hesitate. Your hands slapping down on his ass and grabbing it roughly.

His eyes shot open as he looked over at you. You licked your lips as you began gently slapping the flesh, watching the bounce as though it were made of jelly. It was a sight to behold and you couldn't help yourself. You had seconds before Zayne reacted and pulled your grubby little hands off him.

So you leaned your head in and bit down. His pants managed to cushion him from the force of your bite, but he sure as hell felt it. He sat up and grabbed you under the arms like a cat, stopping you in your tracks as you stared at him.

"What do you think you're doing?"

"Playing with your nice ass."

"My butt is not a play thing."

You paused for a moment, eyes trailing down to the front of his pants, "If you aren't gonna let me slap your ass, can I play with your dick like it's a Bop-It?"

You watched Zayne go through five stages of grief. He sighed as he grabbed a blanket next to him, wrapping your entire body like a burrito so your limbs were no longer effective. He then sat back down on the couch with his legs open and placed you between, holding you tightly to his chest.

"I'm begging you, please be quiet for once and let's finish this show."

Rafayel

He should've known you were up to something if your gaze was anything to go off of. You had zeroed in on him the moment you had come over. Even during your little date as you two explored Linkon together, he knew something was up. Your not so subtle glances in his direction couldn't be considered innocent.

If only he knew why you were staring so hardcore. He had gotten a new pair of pants, or at least you assumed they were new. You were pretty sure you'd remember them with how good he looked at the moment. It was tight on him, accentuating his ass perfectly. You were pretty sure if you riled him it would also perfectly outline another aspect of him.

Still, you had a mission. Rafayel didn't know it yet, but the moment you had caught a glimpse of him this morning, you knew what had to be done. His muffins needed to be squished. His plump little cushions had to be properly admired and worshipped. You would be the one to happily give them the attention they deserved. An ass sculpted by the gods themselves were staring at you literally all day.

You closed the door to his home slowly, turning over to him. He was already heading to the living room. You slowly stalked behind him, and he could feel you were up to no good.

"Something caught your interest? I know I look good, but not even you normally stare at me this much."

"I just think you look particularly handsome today is all." As does his ass. You couldn't say that yet though, he would realize what your plans were if you verbalized it too early. Like a cat stalking a mouse, you followed him until he was in the living room. The moment he was by the couch you took action.

You rushed behind him and pressed down on the small of his back, making him stumble forward. He grabbed the edge of the couch, his body hunched over. Rafayel turned just in time to watch you drop down to your knees. Then he felt your hands harshly gripping his ass. Then the quick slaps in succession followed as you began laughing maniacally.

"Finally!" You said as you grabbed at them again. Rafayel finally reacted, rolling onto the couch to get away from your hands. You were practically panting as your hands twitched, "Come on Raf, lemme just squeeze em again."

"You are a psychopath." He said, hiding his ass from your view.

"I'm your psychopath though." Despite how horrified Rafayel looked, he was also amused by your antics. He grabbed at your arm, making you fall forward and your chest pressing against his own. His hands went to grab at your ass this time, squeezing them and laughing.

"You know, I think I'm seeing the appeal of this." He commented, his hands lazily hitting your ass cheeks like you had to him, although he was far more calm about it.

"See, it's amazing...now can I go back to playing with your butt? I wasn't done yet."

"I think not...although this has given me an idea. Do you mind if I paint your backside?"

"You wanna paint on my ass?"

"Perhaps."

"...I'll agree if you let me eat your-" Rafayel had never cut you off so quickly.

"Never mind."

The most accurate representation of what we're doing to these poor men. I will not be silenced. Their asses need to be slapped. And ate

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noellefan101 · 7 months

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Could I request the Sumeru boys with a super doting s/o who loves to cook for them? In her eyes, nothing breaks her heart more than seeing the boys hungry and tired.

Characters: Cyno, Tighnari, Alhaitham, Kaveh, Wanderer(, + Albedo) x female reader(i didn´t know if you wanted gn or female, but you said 'her' so i just guessed, i´ll change it if you want(its not really there anyway))

Summary: Them with a reader that likes to cook/what you do when they come home tired/hurt

Warnings: kissing, maybe ooc, not proof-read, hugging from behind,

Note: thank u for requesting anon, i loved the idea, if i missed anyone pls let me know. sorry i was a "little" late though(i also tried smt new, hope you like it). i also realized that i like when people hug me from behind vize versa(someone pls hug me, omg), i luv youuuuu

Cyno

he had just come home after a tiring mission out in the desert, and he looked worn out, with bruises here and there, and bags under his eyes. you almost cried at his state when you saw him, and immediately got some bandages in case he was badly hurt. but after you gave him the bandages you went back to cooking, you couldn't let it burn after all. but then told him to sit in the kitchen so you can help him while cooking.

he was confused at first but just went with it and sat on one of the kitchen chairs, the smell of your cooking comforting him more and more as he got closer to the kitchen. he almost forgot how calming your presence was, but its a happy surprise every time. he always loved your cooking so him coming home to you cooking his favorite meals in the kitchen, ready to greet him with one of your brightest smiles, it was like seeing the sun for the first time in months, even though it had only been a week.

knowing your love language was cooking, he always accepted your food, wanting to show that he liked when you loved him, and that he loves you too.

"cyno? you ok?" he got caught off guard when you spoke out to him, he didn't realize he had been staring at you, and immediately apologize. "o-oh yeah im fine sweetie, sorry" "hm, its fine, dinner´s ready" you smiled at him, and he felt like he fell in love all over again. but realizing he didn't have time to space out again (tho he wanted to) he just started eating. enjoying the food you made just for him, while thinking about when he finally would get the guts to propose.

Tighnari

it had been a long day in the forest, along with most of the trainees not listening to his lectures and some just strait up ignoring him(not Collei ofc, your sweet baby child, (with Cyno as the unfunny uncle)). in short, he had a really bad day and had little to no energy left.

but he didn´t even realize he was so tired until he practically saw your heart break in half in your eyes when you saw him. it really pained him to see you like that, little did he know you hurt more. you were almost done cooking when he got home and unfortunately couldn´t tend to him right now(+ Nari would scold you if left it alone, and tended to him instead). so you just asked him to walk over to you instead and gave him a little kiss on the cheek to hopefully restore some of his energy.

it did help him a little bit with calming down, you always did, but this time he may have gotten a little greedy and went in to give you a kiss on the lips in return. "Tighnari, not right now. do you want dinner or not, im sure Collei wants some" he laughed a little at your words(and at your red cheeks) "of course i´d like some dinner, Collei as well. but cant i kiss my beautiful girlfriend/partner" you looked back at him, glaring a little.

"fine, but- mhmph" your sentence got interrupted by another kiss from him. when you pulled away your cheeks were completely red, "Nari, stop that, at least eat first" he looked at you in amusement, "fine i´ll eat first" he ended the sentence with a sigh. "good you better, and after you need sleep, you have bags under your eyes" you went back to cooking. "sure, whatever you say gorgeous" he looked at you(with hearts in his eyes) and you looked back at him "thank you, handsome"

Alhaitham

he had been reviewing some scholar's papers today, and it was definitely not his favorite. some lacked the correct knowledge about the right things to focus on, some the papers lacked effort, and some couldn´t even be called proper papers. yeah, he didn´t have a very good day, some random guy even dared demand a meeting when he clearly was very busy doing something else.

when he opened the door to your home, he was instantly met with the delicious smell of your cooking. but it seemed like you didn´t hear him since you weren´t running to him like you normally would, or maybe you were just too focused on cooking. but that didn´t matter to him right now because he, for once, just wanted to have you in his arms. when he walked into the kitchen, and catching you by surprise at the same time, he only walked up to you and hugged you from behind, burying his face into your neck.

you didn´t look at him, but if you did you´d see just how tired he really was, you were just a little too focused on cooking it seemed. he just stood there hugging you for a bit, looking at whatever you were doing, though he didn´t really pay attention, and he almost fell asleep right then and there if you hadn´t called out to him. "Haitham, i´m almost done cooking, can you put plates on the table" you took him out of his thoughts and even surprised him a little, "o-oh, yeah i can do that, love".

you looked over at him, only now realizing how tired he was "Actually i can do that, you don´t have to. just go sit down" he looked at you "are you-" "yes im sure. Go sit down" you looked him in the eyes like a mother did when she was angry at her kid, "of course" he looked away from you. "thank you, i love you" "...love you too"

Kaveh

yes, he has been working non-stop on this project from a client. it wasn´t even due til in a month or so, but still, there he was in his office looking over the many sketches that got declined. some were too detailed some too simple, and there was the ones where the client didn´t like the style, even though it was exactly what he asked for... he could go on for hours and hours about how frustrated he was.

you were just going into his office to check on him and to give him some water, but when you saw how tired and hungry he looked (he hadn't eaten in, like, hours)you quickly gave him the water and went out to the kitchen before he even realized you were there. you started finding the ingredients even before you fully entered the kitchen, already knowing the recipe since you´ve made it so many times for him.

an hour later it was already done and you were about to get a plate and give it to him in his room, but it seemed like the smell of the food brought him to you instead. because there he stood, behind you hugging your waist and now that you took a better look at his face, your heart broke a little. he looked so tired and half dead if you were to ask Alhaitham.

you quickly gave him the plate and dragged him out into the dining room, "you need to stop forgetting to eat, mister" it almost scared him with how harsh your voice was at that moment. "-m sorry" you looked at him, your eyes softening a little this time " it´s fine, I'm just worried about you y´know" he laughed a little "i know, i love you" you looked over at him, a bit sharper this time "love you too, idiot".

Wanderer

He doesn't need to eat, he´s a puppet, you know that. yet you still make him food every time he comes home from classes at the Akademiya, when he looks extra tired from working on his thesis last night therefore he didnt get any sleep. he doesnt understand why you do this for him, why you make him tea all the time when he didn't even ask. he doesnt understand you.

But his heart still beat in his chest, despite not being there, when he saw your pained face as he walked into your shared home. his tired state for once showing in his face. he had been going a little too overboard with a thesis and also didn't realize the time until Buer came to get him/since you were worried about him, in your mind/. and then sent him home, both to his liking and his dismay.

you practically ran over to him, and then dragged him into the kitchen to then also force him to sit down and explain himself. he may have memories of being in the Fatui, but he still thought you like this was scarier. your normally sweet and kind personality gone, turned into something reminding him of La Signora and The Knave(+himself(or even Dottore)).

let's just say it wasn't the nicest experience but you eventually calmed down a little, the worry now showing more than when he walked into your shared home. "you need to stop overworking, Kuni", he gave out a sigh at your antics "i know, I'm sorry for worrying you" he mumbled the last part, and if you hadn´t been right next to him you wouldn´t have heard it. "well, now you need to eat, you cant say no this time. oh yeah, i´ll also make you some tea if you´d like" he was glad to see that you were back to normal "Thanks, I´d like some tea, i guess". you laughed a little "of course, coming right up, now eat" he shivered a little at your sharp tone when you said the last part " *sigh* fine".

Extra; Albedo

its not like he wanted to worry you, he was just a little too invested in the experiment he was working on, in Dragonspine no less. so he ended up forgetting to stop and go home and instead worked himself to near death(who doesn´t, right). and when you went to check on him he didn´t even notice you, so you decided to surprise him in a hug from behind, while being careful not to ruin anything that was in front of him.

he doesn´t hate it when you surprise him, oh no, you just caught him off guard. and he definitely didn´t expect you to visit him today, but he enjoyed you being here and hugging him. he didn´t realize he had been lost in thought while staring at you til you asked him if he was okay, and to be fair he wasn´t really ok, but he said yes anyway.

"are you sure?" the question caught him off guard for the second time that hour, " *sigh* to be honest, no im not sure" he turned around and hugged you back. "are you hungry?! i can cook something if you´d like..." you looked at his face, there were bags under his eyes and he didn´t look as pretty as he normally did(he still looked pretty tho/im so very not normal abt this man/) "... you look tired, bedo. i can cook you something and then you need to sleep" you looked at him again, this time you looked more serious.

"but-" you stared at him sharply, " *sigh* -fine, I´ll eat and then sleep, but only if you do too" you smiled brightly at him "deal". you then untangled yourself from his arms and ran over to your bag to get your spices, you then started finding the eatable ingredients you have stored in his lab. after you forced made him eat something, you dragged him to bed. the experiment can wait anyway.

thank you for reading, had a lot of fun writing this so hope you enjoyed, luv ya-Masterlist

You are welcome to reblog and like any of my posts, but you CAN NOT translate, copy or hate on anybody for liking my posts

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rafesslxt · 27 days

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Hii, could you please write a Mattheo x reader fic where the reader has raynauds disease? It’s where your hands are basically just red/purple and painful/swollen and super cold during winter. Ty! x

sorry for the late answer, I‘m answering all my requests right now 🫣

COLD HANDS | m. riddle

summary: you‘re on a walk with your boyfriend and forgot your gloves

warnings: raynauds disease ( something like red hands that turn white on some parts and then red/blue on the hand? I tried to google <3 ), mattheo being a cute boyfriend and caring for you

words: 850

Mattheo always looks out for me and my hands, knowing that they need a little more care than others.

He told me to meet him outside in the yard after his last class. I was there a little too early so i sat down on a bench when it started snowing, the little flakes falling down on my hair and shoulders, slowly melting on there after a while. When Mattheo came walking towards me, a big smile was spread on his face.

"You look so beautiful with all those snowflakes in your hair." he says when he finally stands in front of me, pulling me up from the bench and against him. He leans down and gives me a loving soft kiss, placing a hand on my cheek which was still warm from just coming out of the warm walls from our school.

" Come on let's walk a little before we go back in, shall we?" he asks me and gives me his arm to intervene, which I do. We always did this at least once a week even tho it's cold outside. We meet outside in the yard and walk over to the big black lake which was frozen now, and walked around it in the snow.

After a while he let's go of me and leans down towards the snow on the ground, forming a snowball in his hand. "Mattheo.." I say in a warning tone when I see his cheecky smirk. I start laughing and run away but still get hit with the snowball on my back.

"You arse!" I yell from afar, now also taking snow into my hands and forming a ball with it. When I throw it, it lands right on the back of his head, making me laugh even louder at his shocked face. "Oh just wait until I get you baby." he shouts and starts running towards me. I squeak and run into the opposite direction but he was way faster than me and when he finally catches me, he pulls me down into the snow with him.

I gasp at the feeling of the snow against my hands and bare neck after I forgot my scarf today. "Gotcha." he giggles when he pulls me on top of him, wrapping his arms around my jacket. "You started this war." I answer him smiling, placing my hands on his chest.

He looks down at them, his eyes going wide. "Y/n, why didn't you tell me you forgot your gloves?" he asks now with a more serious tone. I bite down on my bottom lip when I see parts of my fingers and hands turning blue. "Uhm - I don't know.. I didn't think about it I just had so much fun." I tried to explain but he shook his head and grabbed into his pockets.

"Here take these." he hands me a pair of warm gloves, way too big for my hands but still doing the job. " But these are you-" "No debate, you will put them on okay? You need them more than I do, please, for me." he says now, putting on his best puppy eyes.

I roll my eyes but can't hide my smile either when I kiss his cheek. "Thank you for always taking care of me Matty." I whisper, this time giving him a soft kiss on his lips, making him smile. "Always, princess."

After that we went back inside, into our common room. When we arrive he sits down next to me on the couch in front of the fireplace we have. "Show me your hands baby." he demands in a soft tone, nodding towards my hands which were still inside his gloves. I pull them off slowly and see how the blue skin is a little lighter but still not back to normal. He grabs my hands and puts his over and under mine, warming them with his heat.

I smile at him, looking at him and realizing again just how much I love him. "They're not getting warm enough.." he sighs after a few moments. "Here I have an idea." he says before pulling me closer and pushing my hands under his thick hoodie, placing them on his burning hot skin. " Oh my god why are you so hot?" I ask him, not thinking about my choice of words. "I alway am." he winks.

I chuckle and slowly trace his abs with my fingers. "Aren't my hands too cold on your skin?" I ask worried now but he just shakes his head and kisses my forehead. "I'd do anything for you, you know."

After a while I pull my hands back again, looking at them with a happy smile. "Look!They're normal again." I let out a quite giggle before he pulls me onto him, still on the couch. He takes my hands into his and starts to kiss every finger of mine. "I promise I'll always take care of you, no matter what." he whispers against my ring-finger.

"I know, Matty. I love you, thank you." "Love you too, princess."

thank you for reading and requesting 🫶🏻

my current 1000 follower special and my masterlist

taglist: @justarandomcanadiantransdude @helendeath @sofa-couch26 @little-miss-naill @kolsangel @itsarajr @hisparentsgallerryy @slytherinscreamqueen @mixvchelle @littlemadamred @ummmmmmm-username 💞 [if u don‘t wanna be on the taglist anymore just write me a message <3 ]

xoxo sarah <3

#slytherin boys #slytherin boys smut #slytherin boys imagine #mattheo riddle imagine #mattheo riddle x reader #mattheo riddle #mattheo riddle masterlist #mattheo riddle smut #mattheo riddle fluff #mattheo riddle x you

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crepezinhos · 1 month

Text

Scaramouche + Wanderer NSFW ABCs

(NSFW ABCs of Scaramouche and Wanderer, showing their sexual differences throughout Wanderer’s character transformation)

SCARAMOUCHE’S POV: You and Scaramouche are friends with benefits. You’re a human but you are incredibly the Seventh Fatui Harbinger. You used to have a rivalry with the Sixth Harbinger because you always thought you were stronger. Slowly, you two start to realize you have many things in common and compete each other in a different way.

WANDERER’S POV: You and Wanderer are a couple. You are a student at the Akademiya and used to be one of his fans when he still was Scaramouche, but, just like everyone else, you forgot his existence after he deleted hisself from the Irminsul. Wanderer met you again when he saw you being cornered by Fatui Agents and saved you from them because he still felt thankful for your support to him in the past. Because of this event, you began talking to him more frequently to him and he quickly fell in love for you, even if he promised to never do so again.

⚠️ WARNINGS:

— Both characters DO NOT share universes, so there was no “exchanging” in partners.

— This is a NSFW piece

— Reader uses SHE/HER pronouns

— Both characters will have some PTSD and are pretty toxic in some topics

— Contains MANY kinky topics such as: Creampie, cosplay / dressed sex, degradation, oral sex, body marking, bondage, overstimulation, teasing, unfairness, masturbation, public sex, quickies, unprotected sex, usage of elemental powers, sexualization of common and daily activities and probably more.

A - Aftercare (How are they like after it and how do they treat you?)

Scaramouche: Scaramouche would usually win the “competitions” you two had, and whenever he did so he’d be pretty snobby about it. He would help you clean up and put you in a comfy place but he’d make sure to keep smirking and staring at your soul through every second of it. Depending of what the competition was about, and who begun it, he’d joke or be ironic about it. Good luck trying to live peacefully after losing to him on a challenge you did by yourself.

“Here you go. I know it’s hard to survive a challenge against me, so I just want to make sure you are not in a vegetative state!” He joked, handing you a cup of water with a very proud smile in his face after barely breaking your mind in bed.

Wanderer: He’d definitely keep the aftercare for the next morning. He feels embarrassed enough to get naked in front of you before it, so he definitely doesn’t want you to see him naked, panting, sweaty and blushing after it. He will immediately lay down and quickly cover the both of you up, cuddling your head until you’re asleep. After some minutes or hours watching you sleep while messing with your hair, he will get up, dress up and do whatever he has to do to make you wake up to a perfect scenario.

“Sit down, I brought you breakfast.” He asked, putting a four-legged tray on top of your waist as soon as you were set to. It had your favorite meal for breakfast and your favorite snacks and drink around it. He already had his clothes on and you had just woke up from an exhausting sex night. “So… did you like it..?” He asked, sitting by your side but avoiding eye contact. You could see him clearly blushing tho.

B - Body Part (What is their favorite part of your body and why?)

Scaramouche: Your hips. If he’s holding your hips, he has the control of it all, and he loves that feeling. He loves to see you sway your hips when walking, see you in clothes where your hips are valued, he loves to grip on them until they get red by the pressure of his fingers, he loves squeezing them and other body parts around it like your belly and tights and he really loves seeing you sway them, especially when you’re riding him.

“Fuck..! If you keep swaying your hips like that… I might actually pass out.” Says Scaramouche between low groans, trying to pretend like he’s not losing the current challenge. His eyes and hands locked on your hips like a hunter. You were swaying them in a way that was driving him absolutely crazy for you.

Wanderer: Your wrists. Even after deleting hisself from the Irminsul and going through his past identity of Scaramouche, he still likes to have total, or most control of sex. He will always lock both your wrists down by either pulling or pushing them to the ground depending on your position, and he does it hard just like his past self. The difference is that he’s just not that kinky anymore and doesn’t even realize how much he likes to hold your wrists.

“Stop moving.” Wanderer ordered between his many moans, grabbing both your wrists and pushing them harder into the wall he was thrusting you against.

C - Cum (Where do they most like to cum?)

Scaramouche: If Scaramouche has the opportunity to cum in your chest or in your face, he will always do it. He absolutely loves the power sensation he gets from doing that to you. He also really enjoys doing it inside and seeing you take it all until you can’t anymore and ends dripping some of it, but he prefers to watch you cleaning your face or chest after having his cum all around it.

“Look at you… letting yourself have all my cum around you like a toy… humiliating.” Scaramouche joked as he watched every single drop of his cum eject from his dick to your chest after fucking you in missionary position with a big smirk in his face.

Wanderer: Inside. Wanderer became a very reserved guy after going through the Irminsul, so his love for the power he got from cumming outside was absolutely lost. He also developed a really weird and unexpected perfectionism, so he doesn’t want to be responsible for cleaning up a mess he can avoid.

“Shhh, shhh. It’s ok, it’s ok. Just take it all in and it will be over in a second.” He said neutrally as he came it all inside your womb, holding you still as you trembled in agony of the feeling of being filled up.

D - Dirty Secret (A sexual wish that they have but you still don’t know about)

Scaramouche: Creampie. Scaramouche has a really kinky wish of seeing you dripping (specifically his) cum out of your pussy. Why would he dream such an specific thing? Power. Scaramouche loves that feeling and if he ever had you dripping his seed when it was initially blown inside you, it would be the ultimatum pleasure to him. He just simply doesn’t tell you about it because the amount of orgasms it would take to have you dripping cum is far from your limits. Unfortunately, you are a human. That means you could never take it that far. That’s why he prefers cumming outside you, so you don’t get enough in a single round.

Wanderer: The day Wanderer saw you dressed as Traditional Sumeru dancer (like Nilou) for an annual festival in Sumeru, was the day he first developed a sexual wish with that new identity. It took him a lot of time to realize he was having TOO many dirty thoughts about it and it took him even more to realize he would like to experience sex with you like that. He just doesn’t tell you that secret because it has been months since you wore that costume. It would be too “out of nowhere” and he’s afraid you’ll find that funny. He will wait until next year, and if the idea keeps bothering his sleeping hours, he will find a way to gather the courage he needs and tell you. He has become a very reserved guy, give him a break.

E - Experience (How experienced are they?)

Scaramouche: Before meeting you, Scaramouche had a low body count. He would only do it with prostitutes and only when he was stressed. That means he wasn’t perfect at it when you two started having sex together, which made you underestimate him at the beginning even if he did win you in the very first round. But time goes on, and you two started doing it almost every day. That means he became an expert pretty quickly and overcame your abilities. He could easily make any woman go insane with his sex, but he prefers keeping all his tricks just for you.

Wanderer: In this universe, his past self also had a even lower body count since he would also only do it with prostitutes and he never had a girlfriend. And unfortunately, he lost most of his already low experience throughout the process of deleting his memories in the Irminsul and then regaining them again. He still will pleasure you greatly, but he knows no much more than the basic stuff. At least he’s trying to become better at it just to make you love him more by trying different paces, positions, places and more.

F - Favorite Position (What is their favorite position to do it?)

Scaramouche: Doggy Style. As you probably know by now, Scaramouche is a huge fan of power. So it shouldn’t be unexpected for him to love fucking you from behind brutally. Seeing your back arched to its core, all your hair being pulled into his direction and your buttocks and hips marked with his hands… it just makes him feel too confident.

“I’m barely seconds in… and you already lost the competition… and made a fucking mess.” He cursed, leaning closer to you just to whisper the joke in your ear while pulling your hair slightly.

Wanderer: Spooning. Wanderer is a guy that needs assurance and love 24/7. So, being able to feel most of your skin touching his while having sex somehow reassures him that you are enjoying it as much as him. The fact that he can also shove his mouth on your shoulders to censor his moans and you can’t really see him in that position comforts him. He’s still very reserved about this kind of thing, so he still feels embarrassed to let you see him naked or hear him moaning.

“Do you like it..?” Wanderer asks huskily between wet moans in your shoulder. “Good…” He says, gently smooching your neck afterwards.

G - Goofy (How seriously do they take it?)

Scaramouche: It’s pretty obvious that Scaramouche is pretty goofy when doing it, but in a bad way. He’s not going to make silly comments or compliment you. No… most of the times he’ll annoy you to the last nerve with his typical comments or jokes and destroy your dignity. At least… he’s only goofy with you and only you.

“Hey, why do you seem so frustrated? Weren’t you the one that started this?” He asked, grabbing your wrists and locking them behind you when you tried to hold him down to stop going so fast and got mad at him for not doing so.

Wanderer: Wanderer is absolutely serious when he’s having sex with anyone. He will not make a single joke or comment about anything. It would remind him of his past self, which is pretty uncomfortable to him but he also considers sex a moment of extreme intimacy where no jokes should be done.

“W-What are you smiling at..?” Asked Wanderer insecure about the tiny smile in your face. You two were doing it in missionary this time and you were simply admiring the view right above you. He was the prettiest man you’ve ever seen.

H - Hair (How many hair do they have down there?)

Since they’re the same person and puppet, both of them share the same answer: they have no body hair at all besides their eyebrows and actual hair. Don’t ask me… Ei is who created him…

I - Intimacy (How intimate and romantic are they through it?)

Scaramouche: Initially, Scaramouche wasn’t romantic nor intimate at all. He would simply enjoy the sexual pleasure of the moment and leave you in your bed to sleep after being railed. But within time, he started to get attached to you even if he tried to deny it. So he started to let out some genuine compliments, kiss and hug you through it, spend more time with you after it and tell you his sexual wishes. Even with this tiny development, he still isn’t the most romantic guy. He becomes very embarrassed when the sex gets too real and will try muttering jokes and cover his sounds to make it more savage because he doesn’t understand that sex is a human instinct and that he’s feeling it.

“This is so fucking so good…” He moaned between the wet and breathy kiss, while his hips rocked hard against yours. One of his hands was gripping on your hand tight while the other one was barely breaking your hips. But when he realized how weird that was, he decided to mumble any joke that came to his mind. “Out of all cum sluts out there, you’re definitely my favorite..! This is worth some extra tips…” He tried to joke, even tho he was saying you’re his favorite partner.

Wanderer: Wanderer, in the other hand, is way more intimate with you. Living with Nahida and studying in the Akademiya made him earn some morality and values he would’ve never learned as a Harbinger. Falling in love with you also made him view some things differently and seriously. For example, the day he entered your room when you were changing. He spent days thinking about what he saw and didn’t understand why he felt so amused by it when he had seen many naked women in his life already? That means that he also feels embarrassed when you see him undress at your front. His attention will be 100% at you, looking for any signs or comfort or discomfort, kissing you everywhere and hugging you all the time. He will not say many things and will not make comments at all, but he’ll make sure you two are in the same environment.

“This is amazing… I don’t wanna stop…” Wanderer moaned while throwing his head to the air. You two were having a very hot missionary sex under the sheets and the overwhelming sweat and heat of your bodies was making him feel wonders.

J - Jack Off (How often do they touch themselves?)

Scaramouche: He wouldn’t jack off frequently. When he felt horny he would just go at you, challenge you in something, make it sexual and fulfill his desires there and now. He’d also have sex with you before going away to missions so his wishes wouldn’t disturb him during the mission. But if became too long, like a month or more, he would sit down in a chair or floor and do it. He would also start masturbating when you two had an appointment to have sex and he knew you were arriving soon, so you’d arrive to a very teasing view.

“You… finally arrived..!” Scaramouche said between low groans. He was masturbating in chair, completely backwards to you, already pretty close to his orgasm. “What am I doing? I’m just making these hours of waiting you less useless…” He joked, still not stopping his movements.

Wanderer: No. Absolutely no. Wanderer will try his best to avoid masturbation. Why? Because the only time where he felt that desperate to touch himself like that, Nahida entered the room without knocking on the door. He spent days avoiding her, even if she completely understood that instinct and wanted to apologize for barging in the room without his consent. Even if you’re away for an appointment and he gets hormonal, he’ll prefer to simply close his eyes and imagine you two having sex, rather than jacking his dick up and down.

“No, I’m not gonna do it.” He said to hisself while trying to sleep, changing his position again. His dick was brick hard but he was trying to ignore it. His brain wasn’t helping tho, making him imagine the both of you having sex with some extra erotic details that were only making him more and more horny. “Hell..! Why is this feeling so fucking insistent..?!”

K - Kinks (Do they have any kinks that you know of?)

Scaramouche: Absolutely. Scaramouche has many kinks and fetishes but the ones that most turn him on are degradation and dominance. Taking control of things and putting people in their place has always been the thing he’s most good at and also his favorite thing. So it isn’t hard for him to do it in sex nor uncomfortable. He’ll make you suck him like a leech, he’ll leave your ass cheeks red from the quantity of slaps given there, he’ll make you beg for him and way more… this guy is an iceberg you don’t wanna go through…

“Show me how much you want this, you little slut.” Scaramouche ordered while fucking you from behind brutally, making you instantly arch your back. “Bending it all over me like a fucking dog in heat… pathetic.” He commented, gripping on your hips tighter.

Wanderer: The only kink you know Wanderer possesses by now is Bondage. He’s not into extreme bondage where you can’t do anything at all, but instead simple things like a single blindfold, or handcuffs or both. That doesn’t mean he’ll absolutely rail you when doing so, actually he’ll be pretty careful with your pleasure now that you’re extra vulnerable. What he likes on it is the control of the handcuffs and the privacy he gets from the blindfold. For example, whenever you or him want to try a new position, he’ll try to ask you to wear a blindfold because he doesn’t want you to see him trying something new at all. He’s afraid he’s terrible at whatever you or him ask for.

“Is it too tight?” He asks you gently, after finishing the knot on the blindfold, with his head in your shoulders. “Alright then… may I start?” He asks, gripping on your wrists even if they were already handcuffed.

L - Location (Where do they most like to do it? And why?)

Scaramouche: Honestly… anywhere. Scaramouche doesn’t really care whether the door is open or closed or if it’s cold or hot outside. He’d do it in Tsaritsa’s bed if he had the chance. He usually prefers places where you can be heard or seen tho. He likes to make it clear to everyone that you are his.

“So what if the door is open? I’d let them see if I was you! Then they’d all know they have no chance with you because all that would go through your mind would be me topping you like this, and my cock making your insides mush.” Scaramouche joked while fucking you from behind in a restaurant’s public bathroom.

Wanderer: Anywhere that is private. Wanderer doesn’t want to be seen at all and especially… doesn’t anyone to see you. He’s very reserved about hisself but if anyone saw you in such an erotic state, blindfolded, handcuffed… he would probably threaten the person’s life. So, he’ll always makes sure nobody’s around, the door is locked and the windows are closed. But especially… he’d make sure Nahida wasn’t nearby.

“Don’t be so impatient. It would be irresponsible of me to leave the windows open.” Wanderer said while closing the windows in his room, pretty annoyed at your petty impatience to have sex with him.

M - Motivation (What makes them keep doing it with you?)

Scaramouche: Your persistence. Scaramouche really likes how you attract him into sex and how you fuck with him. You always bring different “challenges” to him, whispering in his ears and wearing lingeries under your uniform, which already turns him on instantly. But, since you usually lose the challenges, especially the ones you did, it makes him like the experiences even more. After the first time you two did it, where you lost, Scaramouche thought you’d never ask him for it again. But you did, and he was very surprised (in a good way). You turned a switch you can’t turn off. And now, he’ll constantly challenge you in bed.

“You really wanna challenge me into who’s cumming first again? Even if all the times you’ve done that were a victory for me? Ha… I wonder whether you’re challenging me or yourself.” He teased, already turned on, as he walked closer to you undoing his pants.

Wanderer: His love for you doesn’t only make him keep having sex with you but also makes him keep living. The care that you have for him didn’t seem to change even if you didn’t know his past self anymore. That makes him feel he won’t be betrayed romantically even if you’re a social butterfly. But… since you’re a human, it means that you’ll have to go one day (more known as “betray” in his head). So he wants to enjoy every second of you, the same way he wants you to enjoy every second of him. The way that you reassure him of his insecurities and traumas naturally just gives him too much pleasure, sexually or not.

“Say that again…” He whimpered in your ear desperately after you moaned that you loved his sex meanwhile he fucked you from behind. The way he moaned after you repeated it, this time with an “I love you”, was animalistic. “Oh god… say that again… just keep saying that…” He begged while accelerating his pace, too embarrassed to tell you he loves you back.

N - No (What are things they would never do while having sex? And why?)

Scaramouche: Scaramouche thought he didn’t have any no’s in sex until the day you joked about calling him Kabukimono during it. He laughed at first but soon realized he actually hated that idea and kinda got mad at you for suggesting something so disgusting like that. It just felt wrong to have you calling him a nickname that came from people that had all betrayed him one day. His mother, his best friend and a sick kid? No. Just no. His name is Scaramouche and his title is The Balladeer. That’s all you can name him as.

“You only realized that what you said about calling me by my past name, given to me by worthless people, was terrible now?” Scaramouche asked angrily but also jokingly, avoiding eye contact like you were truly disgusting. You really didn’t know that those names were that triggering to him and genuinely felt bad for him.

Wanderer: Wanderer has many more no’s compared to his past self and you. But aside from his past wishes he’s and the obvious no’s, his weirdest no in sex is you riding him. He just can’t feel comfortable in that position at all. You are the one who locks his hands against the bed, settle a rhythm for him to follow and especially, see him in such a vulnerable state. He has been through so much humiliation and manipulation in his life that he really wants to stay far from anything that gives him the slightest feeling of being used. And that position gives him that same feeling.

“N-No..! I don’t like this! Please stop..!” He asked desperately out of nowhere. You stopped riding him immediately and quit the position in a second, trying to comfort him and understand what was going on. It was the first time you two were trying that position and you were going very slow. “I-I’m sorry, I just… don’t like to see myself in this position...” He explained, completely embarrassed for ruining the moment and gasping for air.

O - Oral (Do they prefer giving or receiving?)

Scaramouche: Giving. Scaramouche loves to see you crumbling from above him while he’s giving you a cunnilingus. And trust me, he is good at it. He’ll do it until your legs are trembling, trying their best to smash his head further inside you, until all you can mutter are moans and pleads for him to either fuck you or go faster. Even if he’s not a huge fan of your hands gripping on his hair for dear life, he likes the fact that it basically means you are feeling the agony of being touched in such a sensible spot.

“I know, I know… but I’m having so much fun toying you here that I just… don’t wanna leave. Not until I’m satisfied.” Scara said between licks and breathes on your sensible clit. He continued to mouth you everywhere for barely an hour without breaking eye contact. Not even for a mere second.

Wanderer: Receiving. Wanderer is indeed a very reserved guy, that’s why you were so surprised to him like oral sex that much when you two first tried it. He was trying his best to not grip your hair too hard, to swallow his moans in, but it was too much for him. To have you kneeling at his front, sucking him so passionately and obediently was just too perfect for him. He felt such a huge feeling of power and privacy that made him fall in love with it. He never asks for it tho, because it is indeed a very embarrassing position for him.

“I-I’m sorry… I can’t hold it… this is too good…” He said between deep breathes, whimpers and moans as he gripped on your head tight to make you suck him faster. He was against a wall, barely managing to stand up. His other hand was trying its best to not grip on your head as well, scratching the wall for dear life.

P - Pace (Are they quick or slow? Rough or gentle?)

Scaramouche: It depends on what are you or him trying to do exactly. If he wants to edge you, he’ll go as rough as possible but torturously slow. If he wants you to cum faster than him, he’ll go as quick and rough as possible. He’s never going to be gentle to you, even if it’s supposed to be a more romantic sex.

“You like it here, yeah? Then I’ll fuck you right here until you’re brainless…” He commented, completely lustful for you and the moment as he roughly and slowly thrusted you all the way to your cervix, making you scream at each thrust.

Wanderer: He’ll most likely going to be slow and gentle most of the times. He wants this kind of moment to last as much as it can so both of you savor each other as much as you can, remember the feeling of doing that with each other and long to savor it again. He’ll never be rough with you, not at Scaramouche’s level. He’ll maybe go quick at you depending on the situation but usually he’ll just accelerate when you or him are close to climaxing.

“Faster..?” He asked, almost sounding like a husky whimper, when you whispered the command. “I will, my love… I will…” He said a little louder as he gripped and pushed your wrists harder in the bed and begun accelerating.

Q - Quickies (What do they think of quickies?)

Scaramouche: No matter where you two are, he’ll always ask for it when he finds the opportunity to have sex. A third person in the room said they’d go to the bathroom because they’re not feeling well and think they’ll vomit? He’ll not let you go help, instead, he’ll give you oral sex. Even if you two are caught he’ll most likely not going to stop. Why would he? It’s free porn for whoever is watching anyway… and he’ll obviously be more obvious about it if the environment is private.

“This is a nice kitchen, isn’t it?” He asked playfully as soon as the last maid left the scene and closed the door behind you two. “The maids’ lunch last around 30 minutes… do you know what can we do in these 30 minutes?” He asked, stepping closer to you with a smirk forming in his face. “Hint: it’s something I’ve been longing for a while now…” He said, finally pinching your chin and pulling you for a hot kiss.

Wanderer: Wanderer is actually a big hater of quickies and will only do it if you want it, there’s time for an orgasm and no possible intruders. For example, morning sex. If he’s the one that wants it, he’ll just hold it until it’s safe and nighttime. He thinks quickies ruin the entire meaning of sex. The closure, intimacy, love and lust is barely existent when the intent of it is being quick.

“Are you sure..? You have many work to do today, I don’t want you to be late.” He asked you, his mouth centimeters away from yours as he held your hips gracefully. You slowly pulled him with you to the bed behind you as you said “yes”. “Are you really, really sure..?” He asked you again, and you finally convinced him that you wanted it.

R - Risks (How far are they willing to risk?)

Scaramouche: He’ll risk whatever goes through his or your mind. Public sex? Yes. Elemental Reactions during sex? Yes. Upside down sex? Yes. Sex inside Shouki no Kami? Sounds fun. He’s going to risk everything possible aside from his single no and your no’s if you even some.

“What about… a good old missionary at night, in the Anemo Archon’s statue? In the hands more specifically.” He asked as he stared at the statue with you. You had a mission to investigate the location of the Anemo Gnosis but he insisted on going with you since he had nothing to do.

Wanderer: Barely anything. All that he’s willing to try new fetishes and positions but it has to be in a extremely private scenario. Anything that is public or dangerous to your health will be instantly denied by him.

“Are you serious?” Asked Wanderer after you suggested having sex in the snow of Snezhnaya’s high mountains. “No. Absolutely not. I don’t want you to freeze to death because of a weird fetish. Here, just put this on and let’s continue.” He denied, giving you his hat in order to try warning you up better, insecure about your state.

S - Stamina (How far can they go?)

Since they’re the same person, they both have the answer, which is: days. They’re puppets, they were made to last way longer than a normal human being. Both of them could go as far as they wished to, but they know you are a mere human that can barely last a round. So they just decide to go until your limit.

T - Toys (Do they use toys? Which ones?)

Scaramouche: Personally, Scaramouche doesn’t really like to use toys. He likes natural sex, so that he can control you the way he wants to and show you how no one is better than him. And if there was a dildo shoved inside you rather than his actual dick, it’d make you feel better, and believe it or not, that thought actually makes him feel a little insecure. He also owns a plastic dick, so why don’t you feel better with his? So he decided to throw them away. But don’t you think it’s over! He owns a Vision and Illusion and he makes sure to use them greatly against you when he feels like it. So prepare to have your pussy zapped when receiving a cunnilingus…

“Harder..? How hard do you want it, huh? Like this?” He asked you jokingly before slightly zapping your clit using his fingers. “Ha… you actually seem to like this, don’t you..?” Scaramouche asked with a curious smirk before continuing moving his hand in and out of your pussy. But now with sudden zaps with no rythym to catch up on, making you have a pretty messy, electrical orgasm.

Wanderer: Since Wanderer like to have you using handcuffs and blindfolds, he can’t really say that he doesn’t like using toys. But he doesn’t feel like using any other toys rather than these two. Even after going through a rough existential crisis, he somehow still feels insecure about vibrators…

“These look so pretty in you, my love…” Wanderer complimented, gently caressing your wrists that had just been handcuffed with your newest pair of red handcuffs.

U - Unfair (How unfair and teasing are they with you?)

Scaramouche: Just like mentioned in G section, Scaramouche will always try to make the situation unfair to you. He’ll put you in difficult positions and situations, tease you both mentally and physically in search of full control of you and go silent to make you feel dirty by yourself. Even after sex he’ll mess with you! He wants you to go home with the thoughts of him. And it works, because no matter how unfair he is with you, you still play your part in his little game.

“The more you complain and beg, the more I’ll remain here.” Scaramouche threatened as he fingered you robotically, making you go nuts with such effortless thrusts.

Wanderer: The only unfair thing Wanderer might do in sex is taking his clothes off way after he took yours off. After that he’s an absolute angel. Why? Because he just wants to live a common human life, and you letting him have the experience of a romantic relationship and sex makes it so much better and real to his eyes. He’ll spend the rest of your days cherishing you.

“Sorry… I’ll take my clothes off now…” Wanderer said embarrassed at having you asking him that. But you two were making out for some good minutes by now and only you were naked for no reason.

V - Volume (How high are they? And what sounds do they make?)

Scaramouche: A stressed guy like Scaramouche barely makes any sound during sex at all. Initially, it was just because you two weren’t intimate, but it quickly became his thing. He wanted not only to hear all of you, but wanted you to hear yourself, moaning and whining so dirtily and desperately for the amount of pleasure he gave you. He’d be extra silent if you two could be heard or seen by a possible intruder having sex in a risky area. But he can go fully silent, and he does if he was doing it not on his mood, for example, if you challenged him in a time where he wasn’t longing for you. He’d be smirking the entire time, hearing you spill it all out while he was as quiet as a rock. But when he’s feeling pleasure, he’ll hiss a lot and groan shortly with his mouth closed most of the times.

“Are you trying to get attention, huh? Making so much noise over so little… I can’t wait to hear how high you’ll be screaming when I cum inside you.” Scaramouche whispered in your ear, trying his best to not let out a single moan, even if he was feeling as much pleasure as you.

Wanderer: Wanderer is also a pretty quiet boy when having sex, but this time is because he still doesn’t know how to express his pleasure. He feels so embarrassed and dirty making that kind of noise, afraid that you’d find him perverted or anything. It’s an irrational insecurity, he knows. You would moan and scream until all the air inside your lungs was gone and he wouldn’t think you were perverted like he thought it would happen to him. But he is slowly letting himself be more and more louder with you by slightly moaning in your ears and breathing hard.

“You only keep tightening around me…” Wanderer commented between low groans and pants, trying to not make too much noise. “I want more…” He confessed, pushing you and him to the corner of the table to have a better angle to thrust you deep.

W - Wild Card (A random headcannon)

Scaramouche: He really likes kimonos. Since he’s from Inazuma, he was grown in a culture where kimonos are top fashion. That’s why his own uniform was designed with both Snezhnayan and Inazuman fashion. But during a mission assigned to you two in Inazuma of spying on the Shogun, the date coincidentally fell on a traditional Inazuman festival which you two decided to participate in search of the Shogun’s presence. But he totally forgot that during this day, the participants were supposed to wear kimonos to fit in, and oh… my… god. He couldn’t stop staring at you. He thought you looked beautiful in one but because of your relationship with him, it also made him feel turned on. He pulled to the first corner he saw and gave you a leg-shivering oral.

“You’re so lucky… that this dress is rented… or else I would be fucking you to oblivion in it right now… and ripping it apart after cumming all around it…” He teased between licks and breathes on your warm pussy he was eating.

Wanderer: Wanderer has a weird curiosity on the female human body and always likes to stare you at you like a piece of art whenever he’s seeing you naked. He thinks it’s so smaller than a male’s… but the curves and shape are so much prettier… he can’t describe it at all. But he really likes to stare at your anatomy while doing it with him or sleeping with him after it. And oh if you dare to try putting your clothes on after it.

“No, no. Stay right here. We have a blanket for that.” Wanderer said, pulling you through your wrist back to the bed, covering your body with your blanket afterwards. He waited until you were asleep to begin touching a piece of a hair while he looked at you up and down repeatedly.

X - X-Ray (How big are they?)

Since they’re the same person and puppet, both of them share the same answer: average sized. Even if Ei did put a dick in his body during his creation, she was no pervert and made it sized enough for an average vagina. He also cannot change its size or thickness, but he wish he could adjust to the perfect size to fill you all up with each thrust just he can adjust his neck and arms…

Y - Yearning (How high is their sex drive?)

Scaramouche: It is obviously pretty high, but he will never tell you that. He gets turned on with almost everything that you do. Your voice, body, manners, clothes… but he only shows his thirst for you when either you or him challenge each other in bed. The feeling of challenging or being challenged excites him a lot, and you know that he never resists when you whisper one in his ear. You’re still the one that takes most initiative in sex tho, but Scaramouche is probably going to take lead in that as well soon.

“You know just how to make me fuck you, don’t you?” Scaramouche asked, turning his face to you with a lusty smirk in his face. He was sat down at a chair in his office and you were whispering naughty thoughts right in his ear. You were asking for lose your ability to walk.

Wanderer: His sex drive is pretty average. He doesn’t get turned on with absolutely everything but still can feel amused with common daily things such as leaning your back to reach something that feel in the floor and jealously. Still, you’re definitely the one that takes most initiative in sex, to either make it or try something new.

“Can we… you know…” Wanderer whispered in your ear very lowly, completely out of nowhere and unable to finish the sentence. You two were simply about to sleep in a spooning position again. “Can we have sex..?” He finally said it, making the situation unnecessarily tense and sexual.

Z - Zzz… (How long does it take for them to sleep after it?)

Scaramouche: You two don’t usually do it in nighttime, which naturally decreases the amounts of nights you have him sleeping with you, but even when it is, he’ll most likely wait for you to sleep in his arms and leave the scene quietly after some long minutes or hours. He’s a puppet, he doesn’t need to sleep. But the more you two explore and discover more about each other, the more he feels like letting himself get a bit of a rest after it by your side, hugging you like a squid using its tentacles. Don’t blame him, nightmares torment most of the nights he decides to sleep.

Wanderer: A few minutes. Wanderer doesn’t need to sleep as well, but he usually feels so in-love and thankful for you after a hot, lusty and tiring night of sex that he allows himself to relax and enjoy the beauty of the woman in front of him until he finally decided to close his eyes. And when he does, he’ll hug you very tight just like Scaramouche would and put your head under his for the instinct of protecting you from this cruel world. Plus, when he realized that he never had a single nightmare when sleeping with you, he stopped sneaking out and leaving the scene after you fall asleep, no matter how much he needs to do something outside the bed. He’ll reciprocate the comfort you give him every day.

#scaramouche #genshin scara #scara x reader #wanderer #wanderer genshin #wanderer x reader #genshin smut #genshin impact #smut #abc

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portgasdwrld · 9 months

Text

📂Invitation

Featuring: Ace x fem!reader

Warning: Suggestive, established relationships

Note: I love writing about Ace, what can I say..

You were sitting at a table in this mildly crowded bar with some member of the crew. You played with your ustensiles as you felt jealousy building up. Your eyes throwing daggers at Ace’a tattooed back. Your boyfriend was caught up in a conversation with two, not one, but two women at the bar.

He was always painted as an extrovert as he enjoyed meeting new people and getting to know them. It goes without to say that he also had a lot of friends and your relationship itself started on a friendship.

There was nonetheless an issue that you couldn’t quite fix with him, he was too fkg flirty with strangers. He could be social or whatever he said, but you knew he just likes to get a reaction out of you by throwing a nice smile at some random girl.

-Are you planning a murder? Marco teased as he watched you glare at the fire user.

Your gaze shifted to your friend and you let a deep sigh with a defeated expression.

-Ugh, he’s so annoying.

You whined while ruthlessly dropping the spoon on the table with a slight pout. He chuckled while throwing a good luck, knowing it won’t be simple to tame down his younger brother bad habits. Ace loved you more than anything else in this world and he always made it really clear, but he was also playing on your nerves sometimes.

You sipped on your drink, trying to forget about this and enjoy your time here, before going back to the boat and sail for days or maybe weeks.

-Y/n, let me fix your lipstick. A gloss would make them pop too.

Izou commented noticing the change in your behaviour ever since y’all got there. He tried to distract your thoughts and it kind of worked as you agreed and searched through your purse.

He handed you a shade he thought you would like and you grabbed it before applying your gloss on top.

-Oh! I really like it! Thanks!

You exclaimed happy as you checked yourself out in your small mirror pocket. Then, Izou and you engaged in a fun conversation talking about your similar interest and your impressions of the island. By that time, you forgot about Ace, not even noticing a man stopping behind you and tapping your shoulder. Izou frowned and you looked over them to see a handsome tan man smiling at you.

-Hey, I couldn’t miss how pretty you are and I was wondering if I could maybe invite you for a drink? I hope I’m not interrupting!

He explained and finished by pointing at you and your friend. You shook your head with a giggle. You smiled back flattered by the compliment and his politeness, but you had a boyfriend (even tho he wasn’t really boyfriending rn💀).

-I’m sorry, I already have a boyfriend.

You replied with an apologetical smile. He seemed disappointed, but flashed his light teeth again and you noticed a dimple on each of his cheeks.

-Alright, then! That sucks, but do you mind if I still get you something? Anything that you want, it’s on me tonight.

-Uh..I mean, I’m not really sure. You can go ask my boyfriend. If he’s fine with it, then I will be more than happy to have free food~

You retorted unsure as you quickly glanced at Marco next to you. Marco smirked to himself as he sipped on his beer. You pointed at your man so the stranger could see who was the “boyfriend” in question.

-Damn, he seems to have quite the company..

He commented under his breath, giving you flashbacks of your early night. You frowned annoyed and rolled your eyes.

-Yeah, tell me about it.

You spat with bored eyes, clearly over the situation. You didn’t wanna give it to Ace, that you were jealous and to go up to him and be like “ hey girlies, that’s my man y’all flirting with, by the way~ I’m sorry to break the possible threesome ideas, but here’s the truth.” To then beat him up for being such a manwhore.

Anyway…

The guy nodded as he chuckled. He walked away towards the pirate with confidence and just stole one of Aces fries. It earned him a dark glare from him that you and to stop breathing for a sec. You didn’t want a fight to break out here in the middle of the night.

-Are we getting some actions tonight ?

Marco commented with a teasing tone. The other guys laughed as you just gave a confused look to Izou.

-Soo, I heard the pretty girl there say you’re her boyfriend. Is that true ?

Ace’s eyebrows furrowed as he glanced at you and noticed your table and few others were looking at the scene. You rubbed your face with your hands expecting the worse. He turned his body sideways so he was kinda facing the man.

-Yeah it’s true. Why do you wanna know?

-Because I wanna invite her for a drink and some food.

-Go ask someone else, she’s taking.

Ace spat back annoyed, you could see his already thin patience running out. He grabbed his hat on the counter and put it over his dark hair. He stood up, standing face to face with the stranger. You noticed the two girls exchange a look, before they stared at you and gave you a sorry smile, that you awkwardly received.

-Well, she refused anyway, but I still wanna invite her table.

The man continued plainly as he was lighting up a cigarette. Ace cocked one of his eyebrow as he was thinking about it, he looked at you for a plit second. Your boyfriend rolled his eyes and smirked, his signature cocky grin.

-Nah, if she needs anything, she has me. So we will be good thanks. Go find another girl, there is plenty of them here.

He concluded, but the man in front of him didn’t seem satisfied. He exhaled a cloud of smoke in your boyfriend’s face, before he slightly leant in front of Ace.

-Then be by her side, cowboy.

It was the last straw for your boyfriend that grabbed the stranger collar and punched him in the stomach. The stranger fell on the floor dragging a table in his fall. An uproar surged in the bar, people yelling excited from the unfolding fight.

-I don’t need to hear it from you.

Ace growled back as he walked away from him. You shook your head not quite believing this encounter turned into a fight. He walked over to the table you were sitting with an apologetic smile. You glared at him with a disapproving expression.

-Hey, sorry for creating a scene. I should’ve stayed with you more tonight.

He apologized with a peck on your forehead. The commander put his hat on your head. You sighed but a small smirk creeped up your lips. You pushed his hat slightly backward so you can stare at him.

-Then make up for it, Fire Fist~

#one piece #one piece headcanons #portgas d ace #portgas ace x you #one piece x reader #ace one piece #portgas ace smut #tomiewrites🌷#portgas ace fluff #ace fluff #portgas ace #portagas d. ace #portgas d ace x reader #portgas d ace smut #portgas ace x reader #portgas d ace fluff #one piece fluff #asl one piece

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harrysfolklore · 1 year

Note

please you write beautiful, so I have to ask you to make a imagine of harry and the reader where she and he write together sweet nothing like taylor and joe, thanks 🥺

sweet nothing

something lovey dovey for valentine’s day, i love you <3

MY PATREON | MASTERLIST

Your relationship was still a secret to the world.

They knew about you and Harry working together for his album, Harry's House, but they didn't know about the feelings that sparkled between the two of you, the shared kisses and intimate moments. They didn't know about your sweet nothings.

Sitting by the piano, with your writing journal and pen in hand, you reflected about you and Harry, about how last July you escaped from the busy life and the spotlights, and went away to your cottage in Wicklow, where you spend every second together, falling more and more for each other. You thought about how one night as you stargazed, he told you that your eyes reminded him of the tiny fireflies he used to watch growing up, and how you both promised that whenever life got overwhelming you'd always find home in each other.

I spy with my little tired eye Tiny as a firefly A pebble that we picked up last July Down deep inside your pocket We almost forgot it Does it ever miss Wicklow sometimes?

The words came to your mind smoothly as you scribbled them down in your journal, during the last few months, you've found out that writing about Harry was the easiest thing in the world.

You were in love, and your songs reflected it.

"Busy there?" his soft voice made you turn you head towards the door, he was leaning against the frame with a relaxed smile and a fond look on his eyes, you couldn't help but melt at the sight, everything about him radiated comfort.

"Just writing songs," you said as you made room for him next to you on the piano's bench, he kissed the side of your face tenderly once he sat next to you before speaking again, "Love songs about me?" his cheeky remark made you let out a breathy laugh, he was right.

"What makes you think you're any good of a muse, Styles?" you decided to tease him, even though he had been your only muse for the last few months, just as you have been his.

"Baby, I'm a great muse! Stevie Nicks said it herself!" his words made you laugh again and you moved your hands to brush away a loose curl from his forehead, taking the opportunity to press your lips to his for a moment. You could never get enough of the other, and you cherished these moments when it was just you and him wrapped up in your little love bubble.

"Remember that poem I wrote on our way home from Wicklow?" you said after a few minutes of silence, with your head against his shoulder, "I do, you never showed it to me tho." his voice was soft and quiet, as if he didn't want to break the tender ambiance around you.

On the way home I wrote a poem You say, "what a mind" This happens all the time

"It is about how I find safe heaven by your side whenever life gets hard" you let yourself be vulnerable, at the end of the day, Harry was the one who taught you that being vulnerable was part of being human.

And Harry could only look at you in pure love and adoration, he felt so lucky that he found someone so honest and real, someone he was willing to protect and take care of.

"You're my safe heaven too, baby. Nothing else matters if I get to come home to you and your sweet nothings" he confessed, every single one of his words touching every fiber of your heart.

You stayed like that for a while, your head against his shoulder and his hand softly caressing your back, scribbling lyrics on your journal and playing soft melodies in the piano. The world outside was full of pushing and shoving, but as long as you got each other you would be alright.

They said the end is comin' Everyone's up to somethin' I find myself runnin' home to your sweet nothings Outside, they're push and shovin' You're in the kitchen hummin' All that you ever wanted from me was sweet nothing

taglist: @cucciolafaerie e @eleanordaisy @sunflowersndpeaches @golden-hoax @alienorknight @daydreamingofmatilda @ivyproblems @ayeshathestyles s s @stylesmygucci @gimsaysay @rosaliedepp @dontworrysunflower @milfrrynation @manifestrry @iceebabies @harrystylesrecs @pleasingrryyy @harianaswhore @noitsmebecky @abeanontoast @grapejuice-rry @vrittivsanghavi @msolbesg @tati813 @sad1esgf @eviesaurusrex @itsgabbysblog @theekyliepage @watermelonsugacry @be-with-me-so-happily @a-strange-familiar @reveriehs @musicforcinemas @harrybabyyyyyyy @tinydeskwriter @noooovaaaaa @tenaciousperfectionunknown @mxltifxnd0m @rach2602 @balletdancerry @b-reads-things @juiceboxrry @lomlolivia @itsgigikay @goldensstateofgrace @missmielyhoran @fdl305 @lightsoutstyles

#harry styles fake instagram #harry styles imagine #harry styles fanfiction #harry styles fic #harry styles blurb #harry styles one shot #harry styles writing #harry styles story #harry styles x reader #harry styles x you #harry styles au #harry styles headcanon #harrysfolklore #harry styles drabble #harry styles masterlist #harry styles fic rec #harry styles fan fiction #1k #hsfolklore archive

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digitaldiarystuff · 3 months

Text

Need You

omg this was heartbreaking and cute to write at the same time, thank you so much for the request!! you can keep them coming and i can try my best 💕

also, slowly becoming a fermin fan acc but no complaining tho lol

————

pairing: Fermin Lopez x Y/N

summary: Fermin let the fame get to his head and wanted a break, that was 2 months ago. One night he’s pulled out of sleep by a phone call from a hospital saying you’ve been in an accident

genre: angst to fluff

warnings: mentions of car accident, bruises and sprained ankle but nothing too graphic

————

Fermin woke up to his phone buzzing constantly. The first time he tried to ignore it and not let it get to him but it started ringing again soon. He huffed with annoyance and reached for his bedside table. The number looked ordinary, he didn’t have it saved and he wasn’t planning on answering a crazy fan’s call at 2 in the morning. He let the buzzing stop and left the phone back trying to go back to sleep but something in him worried, with a loud sigh he reached over again typing the number on his search engine finding it belonged to a local hospital in Barcelona. His heart started racing, his initial thought was Pablo but he was okay at the match today so why was a hospital calling him at this hour?

He tried calling the number back but it went straight to a prerecorded message, Fermin was stressed until the phone connected to the reception.

“Hello, this is Alana from Hospital Clinic. How can I help you?” she asked

“Hey, um, I was just called from this number twice. Can I know the reason?” he said fidgeting with his hand trying to understand if it was just a misunderstanding.

“Can I have your name?”

“Fermin Lopez.” Fermin hesitatingly said, he was recently getting recognition from football fans and was also kind of overwhelmed with it.

“Oh yes, I found it Mr Lopez. It looks like your girlfriend Ms Y/N was in an accident, we tried reaching her family members first, they said they’d come as soon as possible but since they’re out of Barcelona it could take a while and you’re just below them on the emergency call list.”

Fermin listened but after he heard about you in an accident he lost focus, everything the woman said going unnoticed by him. If he thought about it, you weren’t his girlfriend anymore, he said he needed a break but hadn’t tried to reach you ever again. It’s been 2 months with no contact other than the night you called him drunk and cursed him for how easy he let you go and he took your scolding, he knew he deserved it and he also wanted you to be safe so he stayed on the phone with you until you went inside your apartment saying he’d call you to have a proper conversation. He didn’t.

He chickened out, he knew you were head over heels for him, that you’d do anything for him but he was just debuting in first team and his career just took off and everyone kept reminding him that he’s too young for this. He should just focus on his football and girls shouldn’t be a priority. He couldn’t do anything he wanted if he’s tied down at 21 and he let those intrusive thoughts get in his head and became irritated with your presence in his life.

He hated himself for it but couldn’t help himself and picked fights constantly tiring both of you. He’d became cold and distant, forgetting important dates and choosing to go out. Even then you tried to keep the relationship going but everyone has their limits and he crossed yours when he forgot your presentation for your finals. It was the most important thing in your whole academic life and he promised to be there but forgot, prompting your biggest fight ever. That’s when he proposed taking a break until he figured himself out, as he hated the state he put your relationship through. You didn’t even fight him on it, just accepted and went upstairs to gather your belongings. He stood still on his place on the sofa not trusting his legs to work if he’d stand up. You came out the room soon and said goodbye to him, kissing his lips one last time and left your keys on the dresser shutting the door behind you. Fermin still remembered that feeling he felt once he realized you really left, he thought it’d be relief as this is what he wanted all along but it wasn’t. It was pure pain.

“Mr Lopez?” the woman at the end of the line repeated as Fermin was too lost to speak.

“Is she okay?” he asked with a trembling voice. He couldn’t believe something this bad can happen to an angel like you.

“Unfortunately I can’t discuss her state on the phone but she’ll be okay, our best doctors are taking care of her.”

Fermin was already up trying to find any pieces of clothing to throw on as he was just in his boxers. He checked the location on his phone and thanked the receptionist quickly ending the call. He didn’t even realize how much he was shaking until he sat behind the wheel. He had tears on his face and in his eyes occasionally blurring his vision for a second until he finally made it to the hospital. He was shocked that he could drive without getting in an accident himself. He couldn’t lose her, there was no way he could lose her. Even though he knew he didn’t deserve you in the slightest, he loved you with his whole heart. You were his first real girlfriend, his first love, even after all the stupid things he did to push you away he knew you’re his person and he’d do anything for you.

He quickly ran to the reception who asked him for ID and sent him to your floor.

“Room 203” he whispered to himself as the elevator doors opened and he rushed over. A nurse was just coming out of your room with charts in her hand and he stopped her frantically.

“Is she okay? Is Y/N okay?”

The nurse was startled but she was used to seeing people going crazy for their loved ones.

“Yes, don’t worry she just has some minor bruises on her face and body and a sprained ankle. She’ll be here tonight but tomorrow after the doctor clears her she’ll be good to go.” the nurse smiled but Fermin couldn’t bring himself to return the kindness. All he could do was feel relieved, she was okay.

“Can I go in?” he asked

“Um, she should really get some rest. It’s been traumatizing for her.”

“Look I need to see her, I need to make sure she’s okay.” he pleaded and the nurse finally gave in opening the door to let Fermin in.

“Fine but not for too long, she needs some sleep.”

Fermin nodded and took a deep breath, it just dawned on him that this was the first time he’d be seeing you in two months and he was so distraught to even think if she’d want him there or not. Maybe she hated him.

Fermin even thought about turning back and just waiting in the hall but he really needed to see with his own eyes that you were good so he pushed the door further, wishing he had peonies to bring you. They were always your favorite.

“Fermin?” you asked clearly shocked seeing him walk in. Your face had some red and purple marks and your foot was in a big black boot elevated. You looked so beaten and tired but Fermin could swear you’ve never looked so good. He couldn’t take his eyes off of you, even when you were apart he tried not looking you up. He didn’t want to go down that rabbit hole and he knew if he started he couldn’t stop until he was begging on his knees at your doorstep.

“Mi vida.” he hesitantly said as he stood by the door afraid to come closer even though everything in him wanted to hug you and kiss you.

“What are you doing here?” you asked. If this was under any other circumstances you’d be pissed at him but you were feeling so ran down that you were just relieved to see him. You were in Barcelona for uni and your parents were back in Sevilla, you only had friends here. Well, and Fermin but not anymore.

“The hospital called.” he said and as scared as he was, he walked over to your bed and sat down on the chair next to it. You could see him lift his hand and then retract it until he just went for it and held your free hand. The other one had a tube in it.

As soon as your hands touched you felt your eyes tearing, you were too weak to hold them in.

“No no no please don’t cry. You’re okay, I’m here please don’t cry cariño.” he tried reassuring you.

“I hate you.” you murmured but leaned in his touch, it was like your mind and body were fighting each other but no matter how angry you were at him you were happy to see him.

You knew he loved you and that’s the reason your break was so painful, you knew this was just a phase but he wouldn’t let you help. He just pushed and pushed you until you were out of his life.

“I know. I know and I’m so sorry but I’m here now and I’m never leaving again. Y/N I know I can never undo what I did but I’m willing to try everything. I can give you as much space and time as you need, I just want to be with you and I can’t stand being far anymore. I’ll take care of you and I’ll do anything for you.” he ranted with tears in his eyes and kissed every single one of your knuckles.

You wanted to act tough, you wanted to make him pay for not giving you enough attention, making you feel insignificant but in this state there wasn’t much you could do other than relying on his words. You never wanted to be apart anyway and he said he was willing to do the work this time so you believed him. Maybe it was naive of you to do, but you did. You loved him.

That night Fermin never left your side, he held your hand until you fell asleep and when you woke up he was still there watching you with dried tears on his face. His hair disheveled, eyes bloodshot and bags under them but he never looked more handsome to you.

“You need to sleep, don’t you have practice in the morning?” you asked as you slowly came to your senses.

“No, what I need is for you to be okay. Everything else can wait.” he said while placing a kiss on your temple and you smiled at him, it had been a long time since you felt that at peace and it was ironic as you were at a hospital bed.

“I also talked to your sister, they’re going to be here today. It’s the earliest flight they could find.”

You smiled up at him, you were feeling a lot better with little pain left and couldn’t wait to be out of this room.

“Did the doctor say when can I go home?” you asked excited to see your family again.

“Yes, he was in here earlier and said as soon as you woke up he’d come and check. Then we’re free to go.”

Just as he finished talking the doctor walked in and asked you some questions about your injuries and looked at his charts.

“Well, I think you’re ready to be discharged Y/N” he smiled and Fermin helped you get up. You still had to use crutches for a while but other than that you were feeling fine.

Even though you tried to argue, Fermin found a wheelchair and brought it to you just for you to get out of the hospital. He was being over affectionate and helpful and you couldn’t help but feel blessed. You knew you had to have a long talk about what happened but right now you were happy to have him back.

“Wait, don’t you dare get up!” he said as you reached his car. You were about to ask him what until you felt his hands under your knees and on your back carrying you bridal style to his car. You missed him lifting you like a feather, you felt so good when he flexed his muscles like that.

You blushed a little when he placed you down and reached for your seatbelt even though you were perfectly capable of doing it yourself, as he buckled you in you couldn’t fight the urge to lean in and kiss him. He was shocked for a second and you thought maybe you misread the situation but soon his hands found your cheeks delicately holding you while deepening the kiss. You knew this was a hospital and you needed to be respectful but his lips on yours made your world stop, it was just you two. He backed off with a smile on his lips. You pouted a little but that changed when he pressed kisses all around your face and your new bruises. You felt safe and sound.

“Where are you going?” you asked when he started the car. “You don’t even know where I live.”

He turned to you looking a little unsure about what he was about to say.

“I was hoping I could bring you home. Like, our home.”

You thought about it for a second.

“I know I said I’d respect your boundaries and wait and I will I promise but I can’t let you be out of my sight ever again Y/N and I’ll do anything to make you feel at ease, I can sleep in the guest room as long as you want me to. Also, your parents have already been there. That’s our home and I’d do anything to prove it.”

You weighed your options, you could go to your 1 bed hundred year old apartment and be miserable with your parents and sister coming in and be far away from Fermin or you could do what your heart wants to and accept his offer and go back to the only place you’d consider home. With him.

“Vale, take me home Fermin.” you smiled and he smiled even more holding your hand and pulling it over to him kissing every bit of it.

“Thank you, thank you for not giving up on me.” he said.

“Thank you for being there for me when I needed you.”

#football #football imagine #football x reader #football x y/n #football oneshot #football x you #football blurb #football one shot #fc barcelona #football angst #football fluff #fermin lopez blurb #fermin lopez angst #fermin lopez one shot #fermin lopez x you #fermin lopez fluff #fermin lopez imagine #fermin lopez x reader #fermin lopez

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choccy-milky · 7 months

Note

hey! They already asked you but I don't know if you forgot hehe, what are the mbti of Clora and Sebastian? 😸

OK, I FINALLY HAVE AN ANSWER!! took me a hot minute to figure out sebs, but after reading all the pages and comparing, i do think entp fits him the best. also i saw this picture on pinterest about a relationship between isfj and entp and its so true, esp the "do not listen to each other's advice, still get each other out of trouble" LMFAO. also the 'protecting isfj at all costs' 🥺🥺🥺im soft. (ALSO DONT COME AT ME I KNOW I SPELLED KNOWLEDGEABLE WRONG IM TOO LAZY TO FIX IT😭) OKAY!! and its been a while so i'll be using this ask to reply to a buncha others🙏🙏

my fanfic does follow the plot of the game, but with sebastian added to every sidequest/story mission. and then from around the third (niamh's) trial, it starts to branch more into (mostly all) original stuff!^^

yes actually LMAO, clora's lawley-slap wasn't even planned. but as i was writing it i started to get so offended on her behalf i was like GIRL, SLAP THIS BITCH🤬 so she did😇😇 id say its normal, yeah! even tho i stick to my outlines, a lot of what happens just kinda happens without my prior planning as i begin to write bahaha, especially dialogue scenes.

aw, im glad u like my blog so much and that it can help u even in the smallest of ways 😭thank u!!💖💖

BAHAHA AWW TYY IM GLAD U LIKE IT SO MUCH!! i saw u re-reading it recently on wattpad and ur comments always have me dying. also im just gonna address your other ask here in this one, but as u know seb has now met mr.clemons, and you 10000% nailed the dynamic between seb and clora's dad LMFAOO, they will absolutely bond over disagreeing with how careless she is and wanting to protect her/stressing over her LOOL. ty again for all ur messages, i love seeing how much u love my art/fic😭💖

OMG u are so right i need to draw this

also god idk....following the sebinis example, i guess they'd be...sebora?? reminds me of sephora LMAO. ive also had someone call them "alliteration shipping" which i think is so cute BAHAHA. HONESTLY PPL CAN JUST SAY WHATEVER THEY WANT, i aint picky.

oh god its been too long since ive read the books (tho i do really wanna re-read them esp in the winter) but my fav movie is half blood prince, just because i love all the ron/hermione moments and the highschool drama BAHAHA. what do u mean harry potter isnt a romcom??? ok and last but DEFS not least

THE UNHINGED ENERGY OF THIS ASK CRACKED ME UP SO MUCH WHEN U SENT IT BAHAHAH, couldnt even fit the whole thing in my screenshot. IM GLAD U LIKED/HATED THE CHAP, and also your pfp just makes everything you say funnier, i love it LMAOOO. ty🙏🙏

#ask #ALSO SEB AND CLORA BEING DEFENDER AND DEBATOR IS AN ALLITERATION it was meant to be......#i go from drawing filthy smut to a wholesome mbti pic of the two of them awww #the duality of man

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rainbowcrowley · 4 months

Text

good omens fandom, i need your help!

i wanna find 2 lovely people i met in front of donmar warehouse in london last saturday (january 13th) while waiting for return tickets for macbeth!

during our 5-hour wait, my friend (@beccibarnes, say hi) had to leave me for a bit to deal with the hostel check-ins and other stuff. i said i'd stay there to hold our 2nd and 3rd places in the queue and while i was waiting and trying not to freeze to death, two lovely people were queuing up right behind us in 4th and 5th place. after a while, we started chatting a bit and even tho it wasn't much (thanks to my social anxiety) they made the waiting and cold a lil bit more bearable. later, after donmar staff announced that there aren't any return tickets this evening, we all kinda went our way, disappointed - and i forgot to ask for their tumblr urls! i remember them talking about using tumblr so i'm pretty sure they both have active blogs, so... i'll try it this way.

reblogs would be appreciated! <3 you two were so lovely and idk i just want to find you again and say thank you 🥺

#good omens #london #david tennant #donmar warehouse #macbeth #how do i tag this??#idk lol #addi.txt

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alexawynters · 6 months

Text

Scarlet Whispers - pt 2

Gif not mine

A/N: Not sure about the formatting, copy and paste didn't quite work out as planned. Title subject to change, not sure how I feel about it. This is my first published fic here so pls be gentle. Also I'm terrible at summaries.

Pairing: Wanda Maximoff x Female!Reader

Trigger warnings (let me know if I forgot to tag anything): Mentions of past child abuse, ongoing adult child abuse, stalking, horror, dubcon, kidnapping, stockholm syndrome, gaslighting, angst, smut. There will be bits of fluff tho.

Rating: M. Minors DNI

Master list here

You miss your stop.

Not only do you miss your stop, but you end up all the way at the bus depot before the driver notices you passed out in one of the seats. The driver, a kindly older gentleman, offers to give you a lift home since it is the end of his shift anyway. He takes pity on you, perhaps due to your tired and sad appearance. Interestingly, no one seems to notice the red wisps behind his eyes.

You appreciate his kindness, but you are anxious about returning home. A quick look at your phone reveals that it is well past 6 PM and you have missed multiple calls and texts from both of your parents. This is not going to end well. In simple terms, you are fucked. Fortunately, the man doesn't seem to notice your restlessness as your leg bounces nervously as he gets closer to your home.

As you exit the vehicle, you politely thank him and offer to pay for the gas, but the man refuses. His accent changes slightly as he says, "anything to help." You shrug it off, as it is not your concern where people are from. Your focus is on more pressing matters. After closing the door, you square your shoulders and mentally prepare for the absolute shit show awaiting you as soon as you step through the front door.

It shouldn’t surprise you that your father’s booming voice is the first to be heard. “Where were you?”

You start with the truth. “Dad I’m sorry, I was on the bus after my exam, I fell asleep with my headphones-”

”I don’t want your excuses! While you live here under our roof, you will show us some respect, you will follow our rules! You had chores to do today, why didn’t you do them?”

A bead of sweat trails down the back of your neck. You hate being interrupted, and you hate being asked questions when they clearly don’t want the answers. Besides, you are in your twenties, not a child. “As I was saying, I-”

This time your mother interrupts. “Don’t speak to your father like that. He asked you a question, we expect you to answer it!.”

You grit your teeth. “I fell asleep on the bus, I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to-”

“Always with the excuses this one.” Your father laments. “Do you think your future employer is going to care about any of that? No. He’s just going to want to know why you weren’t there.”

It takes every ounce of your sanity to not snap that your answer is the reason WHY you weren’t there, and not simply an excuse. Instead you hold your tongue. They aren’t here to listen, they don’t care. They just want to yell at you, and for you to be sorry.

“I tell you, with behavior like that it’s any wonder at all you’d even be able to keep a job. They would probably fire you on the spot, and then you would be right back on our doorstep, our problem once again to pick up the pieces.”

It’s all hypothetical of course - you’ve never been late to any of your classes, but you have not yet had a job, you weren’t allowed to. You are sure you wouldn’t be late to it though if you were to treat it like your classes. You know you can’t tell your parents this however. Might as well bite the bullet and get it over with.

“Yes Dad, I’m sorry.”

“Sorry? Saying sorry simply doesn't cut it! Sorry doesn’t fix the problem that you caused, so tell me, how are you going to make the problem right?” he demands. A vein throbs in his forehead. Absently you think about how he knows he should watch his blood pressure, but that would require him to watch his temper. Y/D/N could never.

You know what he is looking for, he wants you to do your chores now, but it’s after 8PM and your exam is at 8AM. If you do your chores now, that leaves you little time for last minute studying, eating, bathing, sleeping, and then catching the bus back to the university. Helplessly, you look to your mother for help.

“Don’t look at me, this is your mess you’ve created. If you had just done what you were supposed to, we wouldn’t be having this conversation. If you had just been good, you could be doing whatever it is you do with your free time right now.”

It had always annoyed you greatly that your parents were unaware of your academic achievements. While it's true that you didn't have the best grades as a child, once you entered university and chose a major, you became a straight-A student, even going so far as to make the President’s list the last three years in a row. However, in their eyes, you would always be the little underachiever they had to take care of.

Tears well up in your eyes. This situation wasn't fair. It was an accident. You had fully intended to come home and do your chores, but you couldn’t have known you would sleep through your alarm on the bus. You had been so incredibly exhausted that you experienced a vivid nightmare whilst awake. You were aware that you needed more sleep, but your degree was your only way out of this miserable place. You couldn't risk losing it all just because you missed a few hours of sleep now and then.

“Please?” You beg. You didn’t have anything else to argue in your defense. “I’ll leave my headphones in my bag this time, I’ll set multiple alarms, I won’t sleep, just please let me go study!”

Your parents look at each other, having silent communication. Seeming to come to an agreement, your mother speaks first. “Y/N we’re sorry it has to be this way, but you have already proven on multiple occasions that we can’t trust you to do the right thing. Tonight, you are going to do your chores even if it takes you all night to do it. Besides, we all know you’re not studying up there. For all we know you’re just up there masturbating in the window or something.”

Being stabbed in the chest would have been less painful. You don't understand why you're caught off guard; it's not like your mother hasn't said off the wall shit like this in the past. It's almost as if she thrives on finding the most hurtful and outrageous statements to throw in your face, as if you deserved them. As if you had ever done any of the things she accused you of. Like you were some sort of deviant, when all you wanted was simply the right to exist.

“What the actual fuck, Mom?!” you scream, having finally had enough. Both of your parents look taken aback. Rare is it for you to raise your voice at them, even more so to curse at them. “I know you’ve been pretty checked out of my life for a while now, but I’ve had a 4.0 GPA for the last three years. I don’t know where you got that… comment… from, but I can assure you that all I want to do is go to my room and study.”

“Now listen here young lady,” begins your father.

"No, YOU listen, Father," your voice dripping with sarcasm. “You were right about one thing, and that is I am a gods damned adult. I take my studies seriously, and while it may come as a surprise to you since neither of you have paid any actual attention to my life since I turned 18, though it could be argued you really stopped paying attention earlier except for when I was being an inconvenience, but I am actually a great student. This is my last semester before graduating with honors and again, a 4.0 GPA, and I will have my choice of job opportunities. I will leave this place, and you miserable old bats will have no one to be your punching bag anymore. Then maybe just maybe you can finally take a look at the flaws and fix what's wrong with your own marriage, instead of trying to break ME!”

Your chest heaved. It felt good to speak your truth, but as the silence grew, you began to realize that you might have made a mistake.

Your father has finally gotten out of his chair, looming over you. A resounding slap echoes across the room as your father backhanded you, knocking you to the floor. “You ungrateful, miserable little bitch! I don’t know what lies those ‘professors’ at the university have been filling your head with, but you have no future, and you are lucky your mother and I care enough to let you live under our roof! And so long as you do, you will obey our rules, and show us the respect we deserve!”

Fearful, you scramble back to the wall and attempt to push yourself to your feet. “If that’s the price of living here, then I will happily live in the University’s library. One week, that’s all I need!” You step forward to make your escape from this house, but this time your mother shoves you, and once again you find yourself on your knees.

You raise your hands in self-defense, but your mother sneers, "Do it, Y/N, hit me, and you'll be out on your ass faster than you can blink!" Crying, you lower your hands and prepare to allow her to strike you.

The lights went out all at once, and everyone froze. Has the power gone out? It couldn’t have, you could still hear the hum of the AC unit. So what was wrong with the lights?

The lights turn back on as suddenly as they had gone out, and all three of you look around in confusion. However, despite the lights returning, the room appears darker, creating an almost eerie atmosphere. The shadows cast a looming presence over all of you, sending a shiver up your spine. Your home, which you have lived in for around twenty ish years, suddenly feels foreboding, and you wonder if it's too late to flee. It almost resembles one of the nightmares you have been experiencing recently.

Red mist fills the room, a dreadfully sinister voice speaks. “I wouldn’t do that if I were you.”

All three of you turn to the source of the sound - the corner of the room, as a red and black leather-clad boot, attached to black leather pants, steps through a portal and into the room. The Scarlet Witch follows, radiating her full glory. She warns, "If you wish to keep your body parts intact, you will never lay a finger on Y/N ever again."

You’re pretty sure your eyebrows have never been closer to meeting your hairline before and yet here we are. You don’t know who this unfamiliar lady is, nor how she seems to know you but God damned if that outfit doesn’t look as if it has been painted onto her. You blush at your sinful thoughts. Now is not the time, and you’re pretty sure you’re having a stroke of some sort. If nothing else, however, you are grateful for the reprieve from your beating.

Meanwhile, your parents had never taken well to being told what to do, by anyone, they certainly weren’t going to now by this costumed stranger. Your mother bristles. “Who is this Y/N? Another one of your little whores?” Completely disregarding the fact that you have never in fact had a partner in your entire life, and you don’t know whether to be pleased that she seems to think you’re capable of having a sex life or affronted that she thinks you’re some type of floozy. Your mother’s words, not yours.

“What? No, I-” You look helplessly from the floor between your parents and this woman you now recognize as the one from your visions, and the same one from your hallucination this morning. Is she here to help, or to hurt you? She has been your savior and aggressor in both; there’s no telling which she has chosen for now. Glancing between them, you are unsure how to de-escalate this situation. There is no way to convince your parents, for their own safety, that this woman is powerful and not to be trifled with. Nothing you could say, they would believe, and you were pretty sure this woman would kill your parents without a second thought if they didn’t tread carefully.

Seeming to sense your struggle, the woman speaks up in your stead. “As I’ve said, you would do well to keep your hands to yourself. I am here to take Y/N with me, and you will not stand in my way. This is your only warning, which I am giving to you out of consideration for Y/N.”

She reaches down for your hand to help you back up. Hesitantly, you take it, ignoring the shock that runs throughout your body, and begin questioning your entire reality. Take you with her? Who even is she? Where exactly is she going to be taking you? You had questions, and you would like some answers, but if you didn’t get your parents to stand down, you were pretty sure she would follow through on her threat. Sure, your parents were trash, but they were all you had. You loved them, and you were certain that, in their own warped way, they loved you, too.

She helps you up and proceeds to give you a thorough once-over, carefully inspecting your injuries. Her intense scrutiny makes you blush. Meanwhile, your parents remain silent, their thinly veiled anger evident as they observe your interaction. How dare this woman speak to them in such a manner? Thankfully, they wisely choose to keep quiet. Perhaps they also sense the dangerous aura emanating from this woman, perceiving her as a true threat. Then again, it could be due to the fact that she just stepped through a literal portal conjured out of thin air moments ago. Maybe they had been paying attention, but even you are unsure of what is real anymore.

Still holding your hand, the Scarlet Witch leads you back towards the portal she arrived through. "Come, Y/N, we have much to discuss." At this point, all you could do was helplessly trail after, hoping you weren't going from bad to worse. At least by leaving, your parents would be out of danger. As for yourself, well... It was clear that the Scarlet Witch wanted something from you. Hopefully, whatever that was would be sufficient to ensure your survival. Perhaps even enough to negotiate with.

At the last possible moment, your mother chooses, whether out of genuine love and concern for your well-being, or fear at the loss of her control over you, to reach out to take you from this bizarre woman. “Mother, no!”

Y/M/N finds herself promptly flung onto the wall behind her, and stuck there, unable to move. You aren’t sure who exactly screamed but you’re pretty sure it was every member of your family. The Scarlet Witch hadn’t even turned to look, the only indication she had even been involved is the raised hand, opposite the one holding yours, with dark, ink-stained fingertips, bent at slightly odd angles.

“Stop, please! Let her go, she won’t do it again, please! I'm sorry, please!”

Unsure of why you are begging for this woman’s life when she has spent the entirety of yours making sure you were miserable. Still, your heart lurched at the thought of anything happening to your mother. You didn’t like her, and if you never saw her again, that was probably for the best, but you certainly didn’t want anything bad to happen to her.

The Witch took a deep breath, seemingly to calm herself, before turning to face you.

In the softest voice you had ever heard she whispers “Detka, I-.” She opens and closes her mouth a few times, deciding what to say. To your absolute mortification and delight, she leans down to place a gentle kiss on your forehead, and promises “I will let them live, but I must say my piece.”

You nod, completely dumbstruck at everything happening in this moment. What. The. Fuck.

Y/M/N, still pinned to the wall, whimpers and struggles to move but is clearly unable to. The Scarlet Witch turns from you to face your parents. Another wave of her hand, and your mother slumps to the floor, alarmed, but otherwise unharmed. It is clear whatever the witch did, both she and your father are now restrained.

Footsteps approach the pair, and the lights in the house flickered ominously. Despite your mother being nearly 40 years older than her (or so you assumed, as you had no idea of this woman's age), the power emanating from her exuded confident malevolence. She showed no fear towards them, and for once, although ashamed to admit it, you were glad to see that they were afraid of someone else.

Though she was only about 5'6", the woman knelt before your parents, her voice filled with menacing intent. "I know everything you have ever done, everything you ever could do, and everything you ever will do. I know what you are guilty of. I know what you deserve, and I can assure you that it is not mercy. I will spare your lives and leave you unharmed due to the kindness of your daughter, the daughter you’ve abused for decades." As her head tilts, you can't help but feel that she becomes even more dangerous. "But if you ever try to take her from me again, I will seek retribution on her behalf, and I promise you it will be the most excruciating agony you have ever experienced. Do we understand each other?"

You squirm uncomfortably. This should not be doing things to you, but then again, no one had ever stood up for you. Ever. Gods you needed therapy. It’s fine. Little boxes, and this was for a little box for later.

The witch stood up and once again took your hand, leading you through the portal and leaving your parents behind. Perhaps for good, you weren’t entirely sure, and you suddenly realized you didn’t care. Anywhere was better than here; even if this woman was dangerous, at least for the moment, she seemed to care about you, and that was enough for you to follow her to the ends of the earth.

Again, therapy…

The pair arrive at a massive stone temple, which you would later learn is called Mount Wundagore, the Scarlet Witch's temple. It is built into a massive, rugged mountain with steep cliffs, situated above dense forests and enveloped in mist. The mountain exudes an air of mystique and possesses an eerie atmosphere. Scattered across its walls are depictions of the woman in front of you, accompanied by various runes whose significance you suppose hint at a potentially supernatural importance.

The Scarlet Witch does not make much of an effort for introductions, nor explanations, simply heads towards the entrance to her temple.

“What is this place?” you ask, hints of awe and fear in your voice

“Our home.”

Your brain stutters. “I’m sorry, what now?”

“Detka, do not pretend you did not hear me, I don’t enjoy repeating myself. This is our home.” Her accent sounds vaguely Eastern European, and becomes more pronounced the more irritated she is. You wonder when she started trying to hide it.

Your mind balks at the idea of this being your new home, it couldn’t be less foreboding. “Uhhh… this.. is a giant stone temple in BFE nowhere, with ice, snow, and-”

Movement startles you out of your reverie. Beings made entirely out of stone shift from foot to foot, as if adjusting their stance. Their eyes have the same red glow as the woman who leads you now.

“Are those rock trolls??” The stone guardians loom threatening, but make no move to engage, they await their Queen’s orders. “Right. Rock trolls. Why is this our home? WHERE is our home? And,” you spin, taking the aesthetic of the temple in, trying not to have an anxiety attack. “What do you mean -our- home? Who are you, and what do you want with me?”

You can’t tell if the faint twitch of the other woman’s lips is in amusement or annoyance at your ramblings, but in your defense, she had let you speak uninterrupted. You were known for getting entire paragraphs out if left unsupervised - it was a talent and a curse. Personally you felt she should be grateful you weren’t jumping down her throat, you didn’t know anyone else who would be taking this half as calmly as you were. Then again, you were still waiting on your Hogwarts acceptance letter at 25.

“My name is..” she hesitated. “Wanda. I am.. I was an Avenger.”

You looked on blankly, hoping she would elaborate. The fuck was an “Avenger”?

"In my universe," (you filed away the fact that she implied the existence of a multiverse for later, as it was a problem for another time) "the Avengers are superheroes. Well, that's what we called ourselves - Earth's Mightiest Heroes. A bit arrogant, if you ask me. We dealt with threats that the military and ordinary people couldn't handle. We were the last line of defense. We saved the world countless times, but at a great cost of lives. We were vain, thinking we were above it all because we believed we were acting for the greater good. But try explaining that to those who were lost as collateral damage.

I digress. We.. were considered to be heroes. There were several of us, we were a team. A family. We lived together, fought together. Died together. Until we didn’t.”

Wanda explains the dynamics of the Avengers team, including how she and her brother Pietro joined. She mentions Pietro's death in the battle against Ultron, as well as the events leading up to and the battle against Thanos. She also covers the events of the “Blip”, and what happened afterward. However, she conveniently chooses to omit the events of Westview, as she didn't want you to know about that just yet.

“That’s.. wow. Wanda, that's a lot. Honestly, if I hadn’t seen your powers myself, I wouldn’t believe you. But all of that still doesn’t explain why you’re here. You mentioned your universe as being so fantastical, why would you come here? And what do you want with me? If you’re a hero, why are you here in what totally looks like a villain’s lair and not with your other superhero buddies?” You neglect to mention the unease creeping up your spine.

This is fine. Everything is fine. Right? Right.

A look of utter despair crosses the witches face as she locks eyes with you before glancing away.

“I mentioned my team before, but I didn’t mention you.”

“…” You slow blink. This was not how you thought your day was going to go, and honestly, you were already getting a bit of a headache. Could she be less cryptic because that would be great. More details, fewer questions. Maybe another nap.

"Y/N, where I am from, you were also an Avenger. You had joined the team before Pietro and I, and were one of the few who made us feel welcome. Despite the fact that we had previously been enemies, you didn't treat us as ticking time bombs. Instead, you welcomed us with open arms. Your go-to tactics were kindness and understanding, which made it hard not to want to get to know you. When Pietro died, you were the only one who checked on me and cared. You taught me that grief is just love persevering. You became my closest friend, and over time, I couldn't help when those feelings began growing into something more.”

You swallow uncomfortably. It sounds like Wanda is telling you that in this other universe you both were an item. It’s not that you wouldn’t be honored to be with such an attractive woman, but it feels weird knowing that that was a different version of you. Someone with superpowers, someone likely more confident by the sounds of it. This feels almost as if you are intruding on something you shouldn’t, yet Wanda is the one telling you this; if it weren’t okay for you to know, she surely wouldn’t be sharing. You don’t really know what to make of this; if she has feelings for this other you, why is she here with this version of you?

“In the battle against Thanos, we learned that the source of your powers was an infinity stone embedded in your skull courtesy of H.Y.D.R.A. experiments, which altered your genetic DNA. Thanos had also learned you possessed this Mind Stone and sought to take it from you by force.”

Anguish on her features, the witch turns to you. “You were going to die, Y/N. We tried, I tried, so hard to protect you, to keep you away from him but at every turn he found you. If he had gotten the Mind Stone, he would have been able to enact his plan to rid the universe of half of all life. You told me.” She hiccups.

“Y-you told me it was okay, that you forgive me. That I needed to.. that I needed to destroy the stone to save the universe. I didn’t want to. I would have given anything else but that. But you held my hand and told me you forgave me, that you only felt me. Then Thanos came, and we were out of time. I was the only one with the power to do it because its magic was so similar to my own. I placed my hand to your head and I-.” She is unable to continue, breaking off into sobs.

Oh. So she had to sacrifice you to save the universe. Well. You agree with the alternate you, you didn’t blame her, and you would definitely forgive her. Awkwardly you try to find some way to comfort her. While obviously you were not the same person she had loved and lost, and you knew from your own experiences with loss that sometimes words just couldn’t cut it. Instead, you shuffle forward, making sure you were heard in case she wanted to refuse you, and pullher in for a hug.

Wanda tenses in your embrace, as if she can’t decide if she wants to sink into it or send you flying. “The worst part,” she continues, “was that it meant nothing.”

If you were a dog your head tilt might have been cute.

“In the end, Thanos was still able to get the Mind Stone, and you were still dead, by MY hand, and it all meant NOTHING!” Wanda wrenches herself from your grasp, looking positively unhinged. You probably should have been scared. You weren’t. Her wrath did… things… to you. Therapy…

“All because Strange saw supposedly every possible future and CHOSE to let you die to save everyone else. As if there was no other possible outcome!”

Oh, that... that makes more sense. The other you was still dead, and Wanda was definitely suffering from PTSD from her involvement in it. Her little stunt with your parents was probably her way of trying to save you or bring you back to life. But in your universe, there weren't any superheroes, magic, or Thanos to protect you from (that you were aware of at any rate). So what was Wanda doing? This wouldn't bring her version of you back to life. You may have looked and sounded alike, and you might have made similar decisions, but you simply weren't the same person. The lack of the same life experiences meant that you had different personalities, despite having a similar genetic build.

“So we saved the world, and I left to live in exile. After the funeral, Clint handed me your belongings, and in them was a letter. A deed to a plot of land you had purchased in our names where we were going to build a house. I think it was supposed to be a surprise after we defeated Thanos. We had never lost before, not since Pietro - I don’t think it occurred to us that we could. So I drove out to see and.. Y/N I was still so new to my powers. They were still mostly subconscious. I was grieving and... it would be easier if I show you. May I?”

“May you.. what?”

A subtle smile appears on the witches' face at your ignorance. You are tempted to mention how beautiful she looks with that smile. Shaking off the thought, you ponder if she can read your mind, as her smile becomes knowing and a slight blush colors her cheeks. Ink-stained fingers reach towards your temple, but she hesitates, waiting for your consent, and your heart fills with warmth. You nod once, despite not really understanding.

Her charcoal-colored fingers, cold to the touch, make contact with your temple. Just as you're about to complain about the lack of warning, you're abruptly transported into a completely different world, surpassing the immersive experience of any 3D movie you've ever seen. You not only hear and see everything in every direction, but you can also feel and smell it all. It feels as if you are truly present in that moment. It takes a few minutes for you to realize that you are witnessing someone else's memories, to be precise, Wanda's memories.

She starts her memory with the unexploded bomb created by Tony Stark, which sat in the middle of the rubble of the Maximoff residence. In that chaotic scene, there were two children, the twins, hiding in fear under a bed. However, before you could offer any comfort, the scene shifted. The twins had been taken to HYDRA, where they were subjected to brutal experiments. Witnessing their suffering broke your heart, and despite your best efforts, you were unable to interact with your surroundings, although you desperately tried. Repeatedly you threw yourself against the walls of the cells in which the twins were held, hoping to free them from their hellish situation. You observed the twins' powers first emergence: Pietro's as he attempted to reach his sister's side, and Wanda's as she tried to defend Pietro from the scientists.

Scene after scene, each one as traumatic, if not more so, than the last, depicting all the events from Ultron and beyond. And then there's you. Except, it's not really you. You've certainly never possessed the power of teleportation, nor have you ever been so self-assured. This must be Wanda's universe's version of you. With bright eyes and a warm demeanor, you appear as a beacon of light in Wanda's otherwise bleak life. You observe as the version of you in this universe warmly welcomes the twins to the team, a stark contrast as to how the rest of the team treats the newcomers ranging from suspicious to openly hostile.

It’s surreal, watching yourself from outside your own body, knowing this version isn’t really you, but still no less real of a person. Wanda’s memories begin focusing less on missions and more on interpersonal relationships. Specifically, the one developing between yourself and Wanda. It’s intimate and you feel like an intruder watching this unfold. Sadly, as you grow closer, Wanda loses the only other connection she has - Pietro is hit by stray bullets while saving children. A true hero, and there was nothing anyone on the team could do to prevent it. You watch in horror both for the loss of Pietro as a friend, as well as knowing the absolute devastation this will cause your beloved Witch.

You can tell at this point that that’s what she was to you. It hasn't been long, but that bond has clearly already been sealed; you can see the signs in both your alternate self and Wanda. You would have to be blind not to. The loss of her brother does terrible things to Wanda and it’s all your other self can do to try to keep her afloat. “What is grief but love persevering?”

The scene shifts again. Time has clearly passed, and Wanda appears to have healed to some extent. She and the team have become much more cohesive, which delights both versions of you. Your relationship has definitely progressed, if the blush currently gracing your face, extending to your ears, is any indication. You feel the remnants of the emotions from your alternate self. They are not yours, but neither are they entirely unfamiliar. It makes for a disconcerting sensation to say the least. You don’t know Wanda like that, even though this version of you does. You wish you could view these memories dispassionately, free from your alternate self’s emotions that are bleeding through, but you suspect that’s not possible. Once again you try to reassure yourself that you are not the same person, no matter the genetic makeup.

Jarring you from your reverie, next you find yourself in another battle, and this one is massive. There are more superheroes here than you have ever seen before, either in Wanda's memories or in films. This must be the fight against Thanos she had told you about. Dread settles in your stomach like a stone, and for a moment, you contemplate what it will be like to witness your own death.

Traumatizing, for sure, though not for the reasons you had expected. While you are unable to interact with your environment, you are able to freely move about. Instead of looking at the memory entirely from Wanda’s perspective, you move to stand beside yourself. Wanda stands before you, ethereal, magnificent, yet utterly devastated. She knows what she has to do and pleads with you not to make her. It is unjust for a woman so powerful to suffer such loss, and still you implore her to sacrifice your life, her happiness, for the sake of the rest of the universe. It is unfair. It is cruel. You know it, but you ask anyway.

She never could tell you “no.”

You know the moment this universe's version of you had died when you witness the sheer devastation on Wanda's face. Most people would probably look away, but you couldn't. For some unknown reason, you feel compelled to witness this moment in all its horrifying detail, if only to gain a true understanding of the witch and the immense pain she has endured. There were surely few things more intimate than allowing someone to share their own memories, and here Wanda was, granting you unrestricted access to hers. The least you could do was accept this gift she was offering, no matter how painful it might be.

The images that follow blur together, evoking your personal experiences with grief and a sense of detachment from the world. The funeral is somber, one and all everyone dressed in black and grey. Wanda is present only in body, and you can’t blame her. Clint, the archer, hands her your belongings, including the letter she had mentioned. It unnerves you how detached Wanda appears to be at this moment, despite being surrounded by friends and colleagues. You worry about what lies ahead for her. So much loss in such a short time, it didn’t take a psychiatrist to know this would surely take a toll on her. You prayed that her friends came to check on her, but you had a feeling either they didn’t, or in her grief, she refused them entry.

Colors blend into one another and fade out. You find yourself standing on a plot of land in a town called Eastview, crouching next to Wanda as she collapses to her knees. Her body is wracked with anguished sobs as she finally allows herself to grieve. You wish you could interact with this memory, to hold her and alleviate some of her pain, even if only for a moment. Instead, you sit with her, sharing in her pain as she releases it all into the world. Wanda allows herself to experience her grief in its entirety, no longer burying her feelings beneath a veneer of numbness. Colors leech from the world around her, turning it greyscale. You're pretty certain that even at their strongest, the average person's manifestation of grief isn't supposed to do that, but then again, the average person isn't the Scarlet Witch. Briefly, you wonder what consequences this will have on her world. Your head feels fuzzy, and as your vision fades to black, you suppose you are about to find out.

You regain consciousness and find yourself in a world entirely devoid of color. Disoriented, you blink as the details of your surroundings slowly come into focus. In front of you stands... well... yourself. Or rather, an alternate version of you who appears to be from the 1950s, slightly older but still alive. Seated beside 1950’s you is Wanda, also monochrome and dressed in 1950s attire. Blearily, you rub your eyes. It has been a long day, and you are extremely tired, unsure if this is just an incredibly vivid hallucination or if you have actually passed out somewhere.

Alternate you asks Wanda a question, to which you aren’t listening, and she replies with a quip - you still aren’t listening, wondering where you are and why everything is in greyscale. What catches you off-guard though, is the surround sound laugh track that‘s garnered in response. It’s galling to admit but you jump, startled, and look around. There’s no one else in the house besides yourself, the alternate version of you, and Wanda. Where did that come from?

Alternate you replies to Wanda, and again with the laugh track. This time you are not as startled, but no less unsettled. What fresh hell is this? Could this be Wanda’s doing? It doesn’t seem like you can ask her though, as you’re just a passive observer in this strange situation. The last thing you remember, Wanda was grieving in Eastview at the plot of land which alternate you had purchased to start your life together after retiring from being superheroes. Strange grey wiggly woos (as you were starting to refer to her magic) were emanating from the witch, quite different from the familiar scarlet color you had grown accustomed to.

Perhaps this was her doing, if only subconsciously. You tried to recall, didn’t Wanda mention something about her powers being new to her and mostly unintentional? This could be what she had been referring to. Apprehension made a home in your chest as you found yourself dreading whatever was about to unfold before you. Oh no, Wanda, what did you do?

It doesn’t take long after observing the hijinks and mishaps, for you to realize that Wanda's grief had manifested through her powers. She had transformed the town of Eastview into Westview, resembling a 1950s-style sitcom town. Wanda, along with an alternate version of yourself (if you were truly still alive - that part you hadn't figured out yet), and the entire town were trapped. While it may have started unintentionally, Wanda became aware of it and began actively using her powers to maintain her idyllic town, keeping it isolated from the outside world and preventing the townspeople from leaving. In her grief, Wanda was essentially playing house, holding everyone hostage. However, despite her powers growing stronger, it was clear that the people living there were suffering. If you could even consider their existence as living.

There were even two boys - twins, just like Wanda was a twin. Your heart broke, knowing this could not possibly end well. While technically not "real" and not even "yours" at that, watching these boys be born, live, and grow caused you to cultivate a love for them almost as if they were your own. Your heart thumps uncomfortably in your chest; you didn't want to see how this plays out, but you didn't have a choice.

Despite the dysfunction in your parents, you had always wanted a family of your own. An attempt to break the cycle and bring new life - happy and healthy - into this world. You wanted to raise your kids with the love and care you had never experienced yourself.

You understood the motivations of the witch, but that didn't justify her morally questionable choices. Once again, you are condemned to remain on the sidelines, unable to take any action to resolve the situation. You are forced to witness this charade unfold, hoping and praying that it would end well for everyone involved, yet knowing that it would not. How could it possibly?

Despite your bias, after witnessing everything Wanda had endured, you found yourself wishing for the best outcome for her, in particular. Among all the people you could think of, she deserved a break from the misery that had plagued her life until now.

Eventually, it all came to a head when another witch named Agatha Harkness had infiltrated the town with a book called the Darkhold, attempting to convince Wanda to join her and increase their powers. If Wanda refused, the witch planned to take Wanda's powers for herself. Something about a prophecy regarding a Scarlet Witch.

Meanwhile, the alternate version of you had become self-aware of the true nature of Westview. This version of you pleaded with Wanda to prioritize the wellbeing of others over her own happiness, once again. They urged Wanda to defeat Agatha and free the townspeople, even if it meant losing her spouse and children. It was an impossible choice, and you questioned whether you could have mustered the courage to make the same decision in Wanda’s position.

Wanda defeated Agatha, not that you ever doubted her for a moment. She said goodbye to you, again, and then to her boys, and released her spell. The town was free, but her family.. was gone. Wanda was once again on her own.

A startled gasp leaves your lips as you awaken from the memories. It feels like it’s been ages, but from what you can tell, it must only have been minutes since Wanda first began sharing her memories with you. “Oh.”

Cringe. You wish you could have said something, anything more eloquent. Unfortunately, you feel as though you've just been hit by a Mack truck and could nap for a week. It doesn’t help that you were still feeling the effects of lack of sleep for the last couple of weeks.

“I-I’m sorry, I don’t feel so good, is it okay if I lay down somewhere…?” A quick glance around the temple makes you second guess the question you were about to ask. Stone floors did not make a good bed.

With a tone much softer than she had been using, she replied. "Of course, Detka, you only need to ask."

An elegant wave of her slender fingers and gone is the stone temple, replaced by a cozy bedroom. At a cursory glance, you can tell it is a sanctuary of comfort and tranquility, featuring a plush, inviting bed. The room is adorned with personal touches, such as framed photographs of you and Wanda, and artwork that is somehow absolutely your aesthetic. Shelves display a carefully chosen selection of your favorite books, each waiting to be explored. These items add character and give the space a feeling that is unique to you, even though you have never set foot in this place before.

“Come,” A glimpse of Wanda and you are surprised to discover instead of her red and black uniform, she is now garbed in an oversized sweater and some cotton sweatpants.

“You have been holding space for others for so long, it is time you took some well-deserved rest. You work much too hard.”

“Uh s-sure.” About to make a comment that perhaps you should also change, but looking down to find that you are wearing your favorite worn Legolas shirt and some pajama shorts.

“Right. Rest.” Part of you wants to ask when you can return to your home so you can finish studying for your exams, but based on previous conversation, context clues tell you that’s the least of your concerns right now, and Wanda probably wouldn’t be too pleased with that topic of discussion right now.

Wanda takes your hand, leading you to the bed and it takes your overworked brain far longer than you care to admit to realize that she means for you both to share it. Your brain short-circuits at all the factors at play here: Knowing that you yourself are touch-starved; this absolute enchantress of a woman dated an alternate universe’s version of you, even going so far as basically playing housewife and mother of your children, and here she was asking you to share a bed. Sure, she wasn’t asking you to sleep with her, but she was still asking you to share a bed next to her and what if you accidentally spooned her in your sleep, and what if-

”You’re thinking too loudly, malysh.”

“What? You can- you’re a mind reader?!” you panic, backpedaling mentally, praying to every deity that existed that you hadn’t had any unsavory thoughts in her presence, and nearly fainting as you recalled that you in fact, had some rather explicit thoughts from the moment you first saw her.. The mortification alone was enough to put you into an early grave. You weren’t sure how you had missed that during everything she had shown you, but you reasoned you were probably more focused on the physical manifestations of her powers.

"Relax, Y/N. I don't intentionally read minds, at least not anymore. Sometimes, surface thoughts are so loud that I can't help but hear them. Like right now, you're practically yelling them at me," she said, trying to offer a reassuring smile.

Unfortunately, while you were no longer freaking out about having accidentally offended the witch, you were now spiraling down a different path. You were agonizing over the pain you had, and likely were still causing her by thinking so loudly. If you remembered any media involving mind reading, the person with the ability usually suffered greatly at the hands of others unintentionally. Naturally, the average person didn't know how to shield their thoughts, and you were afraid that you might be giving her a migraine. To the woman who had only tried to bring you to a safe place and offer you shelter.

You began to hyperventilate.

Wanda could see that you were spiraling, even without being a mind reader. It was written clearly on your face. However, being able to hear your thoughts helped her identify the source of your anxiety, and she berated herself for not considering that earlier. This version of you lacked confidence, and it was now Wanda's responsibility to help rebuild it. At least, according to her.

"Your parents really did a number on you, didn't they, detka?"

Cool hands gently held your cheeks, pulling you out of your thoughts. Suddenly, Wanda invades your personal space, and the scent of vanilla fills your nostrils, momentarily distracting you from what was happening.

"We're just going to take a nap, okay Y/N? You don't have to worry about anything. I'm not bothered by any of those thoughts you have." A leering grin unfurls across her face.

“If anything I’m quite flattered by them.” She winks.

Heat flashes across your body, and you can’t tell if you were embarrassed, aroused, or both. Unfortunately, you knew your thoughts were likely betraying you. Gods, if only the floor could just open up right now and swallow you into the abyss. Yes, that would be fantastic.

"However, there is time enough for such things later. It's been years, Y/N, and I've just got you back. Nap with me, please?" The witch's eyes gaze longingly into yours, and well, when she looks at you like that, how could you say "no"?

She leads you to the bed and, with the practiced ease of her time in Westview, pulls you into her embrace as the little spoon. Earlier, you had been worried about accidentally touching her inappropriately or having a dirty dream. Now though, with her arms wrapped so protectively around you, sleep claims you almost instantaneously.

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