#buffet tips

[beingjellybeans]

Experience the ultimate Japanese feast with Ogetsu Hime's Oget All You Can Promo at SM Megamall

Feel up to filling up on tasty Japanese food? Well, you need to hie yourself over to Ogetsu Hime then! Whether it’s for a special occasion or a regular family dinner, Ogetsu Hime’s exquisite dishes, excellent service, and welcoming atmosphere make it a perfect dining destination for families looking to bond over delicious food. Thanks to its Oget All You Can Buffet, Japanese food lovers can…

[madeline-celeste]

Fun Buffet tip number 1 to save you money!!! 🤑🤑🤑

dont go

[vivalavada]

The Sweetness of the Wedding: Great Caterer: A  wedding is a vibrant celebration filled with joy, music, and of course, delicious food! It's a time for families to come together, celebrate the union of two souls, and create lasting memories. But amidst the hustle and bustle, one element can truly elevate your wedding to legendary status: Delicious Food. Here's why good catering  (Like VivaLaVida) is crucial for a successful wedding:

[butchlifeguard]

can we not fucking. go out rn

[wastewaifs]

funke is an untreated kleptomaniac and steals on average about $30 (90s money) worth of stuff every day. it started with snapples and prepackaged cookies and stuff from the deli near his mom's apartment growing up and snowballed from there. sometimes it's actually an unconscious thing and he doesn't know he's doing it until the game boy or cell phone or key to some rando's mercedes is in his pocket.

in his opinion the most valuable thing he's ever stolen is a waiter's outfit -- once in a blue moon he'll suit up and get himself hired for some event or party for The Elite. he pickpockets as much as he can in between being a very inattentive server who oftentimes go out of character and will eat the bruschetta or smoked salmon he just put down in front of you. when he's done/bored/gets caught then it's time for the Funke Goodbye, which invariably involves a large amount of abnormal flatulence, and running away

his finds will either be given away to friends or taken to a pawn shop to make his rent. anything left over goes directly to the homeless in their neighbourhood.

[unclechester1958]

Howdy Yall Its Yalls Uncle Chester. I joined this new fangeld tumbley or whatever this page is called after a series of unfortunate events at Uncle Chester's Youth Dance Hall and Buffet. Ill spare yall the deets but just know sister gravel is no longer allowed at Tuesday 4:15 night church for early risers, now with electric lighting!!! oh and some of yall are getting it so so wrong its not pronounced gravel its pronounced gravel like grave then a L, Just know this cause she will invalidate anything you dare say if you say gravel and not gravel she will invalidate everything you little pee poos say Yours truly has been invalidated and humiliated by that wrinkled old toad since my birth. anyhoo yall if you little punkins got any advice on how to be a thumblr expert, my comments and complaints are open

Alright see yall love uncle chester and dont drink the grease when frying bacon, put it in a little jar for secret uses that your parents will explain to you later

[markalexanderdesign]

Sideboards & Cabinets: Versatile Storage Solutions for Your Home

Sideboards and cabinets are essential pieces of furniture when it comes to interior design. These furniture offer both storage and style.

They come in a wide range of shapes, sizes, and materials. They are therefore easily adapted to any type of house decor.

Here's a various type of sideboard and cabinets that will help to identify  their versatility and how they can enhance your living space :

Types of Sideboards and Cabinets

Traditional Sideboards:

These classic pieces frequently have lots of storage capacity, elaborate carvings, and elaborate detailing. They look great in formal living or dining areas.

Modern Sideboards: Modern sideboards are characterised by their sleek and simple designs. They have a neat, uncomplicated appearance and are perfect for modern settings.

Console Tables: These slender, table-like cabinets give some storage space and a chic way to showcase ornamental goods.

Buffets: Buffets resemble sideboards, although they frequently feature glass doors to display valuables or dinnerware.

TV Stands: TV stands are made especially to hold televisions and other audiovisual devices. Additionally, they may store games, DVDs, and remote controls.

Versatility and Functionality

Storage: Books, dishes, linens, electronics, and other objects can all be kept in abundance in sideboards and cabinets.

show: You can put ornamental things like pictures, artwork, or memorabilia on show in many sideboards and cabinets with glass doors or open shelves.

Serving: At parties or family get-togethers, buffet-style sideboards are ideal for setting out food and beverages.

Organization: Sideboards and cabinets can assist you in maintaining a clutter-free and orderly house by offering specific storage for your possessions.

Tips for Choosing the Right Sideboard or Cabinet

Size:Measure your area to make sure the cabinet or sideboard will fit comfortably where you want it.

Think about your personal style: Select an item that blends in with the rest of your home's design.

Consider functionality: To make sure the sideboard or cabinet suits your needs, decide what you will use it for.

Quality: It is important. Invest in a high-quality item that will endure for many years.

Conclusion:

Cabinets and sideboards are multipurpose furniture elements that can enhance your home's aesthetics and use. You can locate the ideal piece to improve your living area by carefully weighing your needs and preferences.

[daylerogers]

Dig In!

Hurricane Debby has come upon us, and with it a massive amount of rain. I’ve learned that when it rains heavily, these egrets come to feast on lawns in our area. A community meal, like a pancake breakfast for everyone, except they serve insects. Unlike other birds or animals that hide during heavy downpours, these little guys shrug the rain off their shoulders and dig into the bug and worm feast…

[literaryvein-reblogs]

words for your fight scenes

Breathe

draw, expire, heave, inhale, puff, suffocate

Catch

intercept, tackle

Climb

arise, ascension, mount, scale, surface

Cut

amputate, ax/axe, bisect, chisel, cleave, crop, cut up, dent, dissect, engrave, etch, fell, hack, lacerate, mangle, molt, mutilate, notch, peel, scar, scratch, shave, shred, slash, slit, trim, whittle

Dispose

boot, chuck, disposal, dispose of, do away with, elimination, kick out, rejection, scrap, throw away, void

Drop

alight, crash, decline, descent, dive, droop, duck, fall, flop, fumble, go under, keel over, light, percolate, plumb, plunge, sag, settle, sink, slump, stoop, submerge, suspend, thud/thump, tumble, wilt

Hide

ambush, bury, camouflage, conceal, cover, cover-up, cringe, disguise, dissimulate, embed, ensconce, envelop, isolation, lurk, masquerade, palliate, screen, seclusion, sequester, shrink, shut off/shut out, sneak, withhold

Hit

applaud, bang, baste, batter, beat, blindside, boot, buffet, bunt, chip, clash, clip, clout, collide, concussion, crash, cuff, deflect, drive, flail, glance, hammer, jab, jostle, knock, lick, nail, peck, plaudits, pound, punch, rap, scourge, slap, smack, sock, strike, swipe, tap, thud/thump, tip, whack, whip

Hold forcefully

apprehend, cage, clasp, clinch, confinement, constriction, cramp, detain, embrace, enslave, fetters, grasp, gripe, hold, incarcerate, overpower, press, shackle, snatch, strangle, throttle, wrestle

NOTE

The above are concepts classified according to subject and usage. It not only helps writers and thinkers to organize their ideas but leads them from those very ideas to the words that can best express them.

It was, in part, created to turn an idea into a specific word. By linking together the main entries that share similar concepts, the index makes possible creative semantic connections between words in our language, stimulating thought and broadening vocabulary.

Source ⚜ Writing Basics & Refreshers ⚜ On Vocabulary Notes: Fight Scenes (pt. 1) (pt. 2) Word Lists: Fight ⚜ Pain

[cookedgoosecatering]

Valentine’s Day Buffet Menu Planning: 5 Romantic Ideas to Consider

It’s the most romantic time of the year, that’s right—it’s almost Valentine’s Day!

It’s the day when we celebrate the power of love with that special someone by giving them gifts or taking them out for a romantic meal.

Now, what better way is there to celebrate the day of love than a romantic (and delicious) buffet? It’s a great way to let your friends and family spend time together with their significant other and mingle a bit. That being said, holding a Valentine’s Day buffet goes well beyond just buffet menu planning—you need to create an atmosphere that whispers “romance” and gives your guests a memorable experience.

So here are 5 romantic ideas to consider when setting up your Valentine’s Day buffet and what to include in your menu planning.

1. Incorporate a romantic theme and decor

2. Get a romantic buffet menu catered

3. Include interactive food stations

4. Engage the senses

5. Leave small mementos Planning a Valentine’s Day buffet can be quite tricky since you need to get not just the buffet menu planning right but the atmosphere too. If you don’t know where to start, you could always try calling a good catering company in Pittsburgh for help. Read more about: Valentine’s Day Buffet Menu Planning: 5 Romantic Ideas to Consider

[lavandamichelle]

Mouthwatering Menus and Midnight Munchies: Ring in the New Year with Delicious Delights

Forget the pressure-cooker panic and last-minute grocery dashes. This year, step into your New Year’s Eve bash not as a frazzled host, but as a culinary conductor, orchestrating a symphony of flavors that will have your guests raving long after the confetti settles. As a seasoned party planner with glitter permanently woven into my DNA and enough canapé recipes to fill a cookbook (or three!), I’m…

[lilbugprincess]

Sometimes I like to watch those Fridge Restocking Tiktok compilations and it's hard to explain what's so compelling about it. Perhaps I yearn for that dream of a fridge where you put stuff where it belongs, and when you go to find it, it is still there. Perhaps I would like an entire special drawer in my fridge just for convenient snacks! Perhaps it's the satisfying sounds. Or perhaps it's the silent joy of watching someone fumble pathetically with a simple task because they're using one hand to hold their phone and thus must spill sugar all over the place trying to get it into the Aesthetic Container.

[jynxraven513]

am finally home bc i stayed at work 2 hours later than my shift because we ran out of everything again and i wasn't about to just yknow, leave without making some attempt to prep things when i know night shift will be just as busy.

mostly bc i was not about to let a teenager get slammed with a scheduled 40 top plus nornal saturday night business (plus holiday business) with absolutely nothing prepped.

so i prepped literally everything and now am very very tired and still have not eaten but shall remedy that shortly.

[causenessus]

i think i hit 30 tags exactly THIS WAS SO GOOD MOLLY

wouldn't it be nice 𓇼 semi e. x reader

1. off balance

warnings: language

an: i dont know when it happened, but this turned into jimmy buffett slander hour. sorry man.

𓇼 sounds like: best of jimmy buffett

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The moments of peace in your days are few and far between. Your coworkers—whom you love dearly— are anything but calm, and the customers they attract are not much better. 

Solitude finds you on your commute to work, when you take a leisurely stroll across the island and see what there is to see. Animals crossing the roads, bathing suits falling down, beachy walks of shame that are somehow worse than normal ones, you’ve seen it all. Some are more appealing than others.

When your solitude is disturbed, for whatever reason, your day is always thrown off balance.

And based on what you just saw, today was going to be a doozy.

Trying to shake the image from your mind, you prepare for the inevitable battle scene taking place behind the blue screened door of the surf shop. The promise of tropical rock music looms over you as you approach, but you see the door left open with no sound coming out.

“Oh thank god.” 

Sure enough, your ears are not bombarded with Jimmy Buffett, meaning Noya and Bokuto haven’t gotten here yet. A moment's reprise before the storm blows in. 

Saeko laughs when she hears you enter, poking her head out from around a shelf. “Any moment without Jimmy is a good moment in my book.” 

“Tell me about it.”

You slip into the back room, glancing at the schedule to see who you would be teaching today. Your slots were pretty empty, which meant you’ll probably be in the store for most of it. Not ideal, but you might get cut early and have the rest of the day off. 

“Oh hey,” You call out, taking advantage of the fact that it’s just the two of you right now. “Do you want to hear something weird that happened to me this morning?”

Before she can even respond, Oikawa’s voice chimes out through the shop, paired with the aggressive slamming of the screen door. 

“I do!”

You join Saeko at the counter and share a knowing look, silently communicating that you’ll talk later.

“What are we talking about?” Oikawa asks with a grin, not even bothering to put his stuff away. He beelines towards the two of you and waits with eager eyes.

“Nothing now. I was only going to tell Saeko.”

“What?” He looks galled at your response. “I thought I was your best friend. Best friends tell each other everything...” He drags the last syllable out for effect, but it does little to sway you.

“Yeah, nice try. Maybe I’ll tell you later.”

“Tell him what?”

The front door slams into the wall once more, the final two rounding out your little cohort. Bokuto and Noya both join you expectantly, always ready for any drop of gossip. 

The three men staring at you briefly resemble hungry dogs, begging at the table for any scraps you’re willing to throw them. 

You and Saeko both laugh at the scene before you, but now that they’re all here, you know better than to try and keep the story to yourself. Bokuto and Noya’s constant persistence and optimism are exhausting to outpace, and you learned a long time ago that there’s nothing they won’t do for some gossip.

Resigning yourself to a very long day after this, you relax against the counter and begin your tale.

You were walking along the interstate as usual, the ocean breeze tickling your neck. Mainland traffic wouldn’t start for another couple hours, so the only people you see are your fellow island coworkers and the occasional seagull. 

“Awful way to start a story.” “There’s no way you’re only telling it now that they showed up. Do you hate me?” “When have you ever not ‘walked to work like normal’? It’s like when you talk about your day and you start with ‘I woke up’.”

“Shut up. Let me finish.”

The whizzing of bike wheels, the chatter of early morning joggers. Small moments of serenity before the chaos of your day. Something you wouldn’t trade for the world. 

The natural landscape is the soundtrack to your morning. Low distant rumbles of waves, wind rustling the palm trees and occasional shrub. A loud, bass boosted stereo- wait.

“So what? It’s probably someone from that wedding party, right?” “No, I thought they left already.” “Man, they were something else. Remember when Bokuto got shot in the eye with one of those squirt guns?” “It still hurts.” “Hah! Weak.”

It’s about as cliche of tourists as they come. The white Jeep, no doors. Surfboards hanging precariously off the back. No consideration for how loud or fast they’re going. An equally loud argument between the driver and the passenger, worryingly distracting. Drifting ever so slightly into the oncoming lane before majorly correcting.

You step to the side, despite being on the sidewalk. You want to get as far away from them as you can. The car zooms past you, but for a split second you catch something.

The sandy blonde tips whipping in the wind. Light brown eyes that pierce through your soul. 

But you blink, and they’re gone.

The four of them sit in front of you, all on the edge of their seats. Waiting for something more.

You pause. There’s nothing else you can say.

“So… then what happened?” Noya’s question tests the silence. 

“Wait. Do you guys not know about Semi?” 

There’s a collective confusion before they all shake their heads. 

You want to scream. Their lack of reaction makes a lot more sense now, but you’re kicking your past self for not telling them about him sooner. 

It’s going to be a long day indeed.

“Okay. We don’t have time to get into… all of that.” You start, face screwing up when the screen door creaks again, alerting you all to the first customers of the day. “But basically, he was my childhood best friend until he moved away and fell off the face of the planet. I thought he was the love of my life and then he never spoke to me again. Little 14 year old me was heartbroken.”

“What?!” “You’re joking.” “And you think he’s back?” “Did he tell you he was coming?” “No dumbass, why would he? She just said they never talked again.”

The quiet cacophony of questions is hushed when the customers come around the bend, smiling politely. You all straighten up, trying and failing to look like you were not violently gossiping. 

“Sorry to interrupt,” one of them starts with a laugh, “but could you show us where the wax is?”

Bokuto takes the offer, ushering them all away from the counter. You’re about to sit back at the stool before you realize Noya’s already there, plugging in his phone with an evil grin.

“Noya, no-” “Please, we just got here.” “My ears will start bleeding if I hear stupid Jimmy Buffett one more time…”

The complaints fall on deaf ears as he sits and scrolls through his phone, swiping and forming a queue. “All I’m saying is that he has a lot of advice on love!” He looks up, beaming.

A nice sentiment, but one that falls short as the opening chords of its five o’clock somewhere start to play through the speakers.

Your face deadpans to his. “Your advice is for me to drink away my pain?”

He simply shrugs. “There are worse ways to spend a day.”

“It is literally 9 in the morning.”

“But it’s five o’clock somewhere.” He replies, shit eating grin plastered on his face. You groan in disbelief, not sure how you fell for that. 

He and the others cackle as you turn tail, disappearing into the back room once more. There are some packages that need sorting and you figure it’ll be a nice break from the chaos up front.

You busy yourself with your task, making sure to voice your discontent everytime a new song comes on. Despite the music, you find yourself in a comfortable quiet, catching bits of conversation from the front. The occasional passing by of people on the beach, a few coming in to say hi.

“Do you think it really was him?”

The intrusion makes you jump, not noticing Bokuto leaning in the doorway. As you look over your shoulder, you catch him looking at you curiously.

You pivot, neglecting the boxes. You’re not the closest with Bokuto, but his expression makes you think he’s being sincere. You decide to trust him. 

“I honestly don’t know. It was so fast, and it feels really unlikely, but my gut is telling me it was.”

The admission leaves you a little shaken, suddenly faced with the reality now that you’ve voiced it. It really did look like him. That thought shouldn’t terrify you as much as it does. 

“But I don’t even know if it’ll matter.” You brush it off, turning your attention to the boxes again. “He hasn’t reached out so I doubt he’s here for me, and it’s not likely that I’ll see him around.”

“You said he left you heartbroken.” Bokuto shifts, almost uncomfortably, as he walks into the room and past you, going for his board. “Do you still have feelings for him?”

You can’t fight the laugh that comes out at that. The question has been posed to you since you met Semi, so you’ve gotten very good at the song and dance that comes next.

“He was a silly childhood crush.” You start, picking up the sorted boxes and waiting for him to catch up, walking to the front together. “I’d be happy to see him for old times sake, but it’s not like he’s a long lost lover. Not really.”

Bokuto hums in understanding. “Well, I hope you get what you’re hoping for! Seeing him again or not.” He gives you a beam of a smile before slipping out the side door, a child’s cheer coming from the other side and the boisterous laugh that follows.

“He’s in a good mood.” Saeko comments, now sitting alone at the counter. Noya disappeared somewhere, but the music persists.

“When is he not?”

“Fair enough.” She softly laughs, standing to offer you the stool. “Can you sit for a second? I need to make some calls.”

You nod, dropping the box to the floor and taking her place. Working the counter is the least interesting job in the shop, so it’s no surprise when your mind starts to wander.

Would seeing Semi be the worst thing in the world? You’re confident the childhood feelings are well and over with, but there is still a little bit of resentment about how he left things. You should have known better than to expect him to keep a promise like that, but you were also kids. Maybe a little bit of grace is necessary.

Fiddling with the bracelets on your arm, you start to absentmindedly hum along to the song currently playing in the shop. Tropical paradise be damned, he knows how to make an earworm.

“Since when do you like Buffett?”

Your fingers freeze in their movements, recognizing the casual lilt from days long ago. Dragging your gaze up from where they were focused on the counter, you come face to face with familiar light brown eyes. 

The ones you realize have been quietly haunting your dreams ever since that night, many summers ago.

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playlist 𓇼 pinterest

taglist: open! fill out here. if you are in bold i cannot tag you, please check your settings.

@daisy-room, @aboutkiyoomi, @adorerin, @aquariarose, @mikauraurr

@akaashislovee, @yuminako, @linhhs, @lovingjeankirstein, @graeaesecond, 

@dailyakira, @myromanempiree, @cosmiicdust, @loverlunaire, @soulfullystarry, 

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@duhsies, @causenessus, @eggyrocks, @wave2mia @guitarstringed-scars,

@seroh, @hyenagoated, @holaseniorahoe, @softpia, @yoshit-he-dinosaur,

@keeboismine, @luvv4chanel

[mononijikayu]

wife — nanami kento.

“I don’t like the way they’re looking at you.” You whisper to him. “Let them, honey.” he said, his deep voice rich with certainty. “That’s all they can do.” He took your hand, calloused but gentle, and squeezed it just enough to send a rush of comfort through you. His thumb traced the side of your hand in a subtle, soothing gesture. The cool metal of his ring finger brushes against your skin with intent.  “They should know that I am exactly where I choose to be. I’m a married man, after all.”

GENRE: alternate universe - canon convergence;

WARNING/S: romance, marriage, nsfw, rated 18 and above, explicit content, kissing, making out, rough sex, p to v sex, toilet sex, orgasm, humor, profanity, pet names (baby, honey), possesiveness, jealousy, characters speaking in sexual innuendo, mention of sexual euphemisms, depiction of explicit sexual content, if your partner isn't nanami kento then don't have him ladies, gents and non-binary friends;

WORD COUNT: 6.6k words.

NOTE: nanami kento won the poll, so here we are!!! its relatively shorter than the current style i have, but i hope you still like it. and yes, i added a spoiler for shoko and geto's sister (since shoko won #2 in the poll, she also gets a fic!!!). they are still together cause god knows they need love and care after all they have been through. anyway, i hope you all enjoy this!!! i love you all and see you in the next one <3

masterlist

if you want to, tip! <3

THIS WAS A RARE OPPORTUNITY.  You don’t like going to these high social events at all, not even outside Jujutsu society. You were a homebody, you adored having time to yourself. But you can’t ignore Gojo Satoru’s invitation. Even if you want to.

He’s been so good to your Kento and he’s always making sure that none of the old farts are making his life miserable. So you felt inclined to go. You felt inclined to play a little bit with this world. 

The grand hall of Gojo manor was resplendent, a wash of gold and white with shimmering drapes that caught the light of the crystal chandeliers overhead. Gojo Satoru was not thrilled to host the gathering. But since it was his duty as the Gojo clan head and he had to play nice with all these people — he gave in and threw the party.

Of course, he refused to make it exclusively a sorcerer only gathering. He wanted to ensure that it was open to everyone, even yourself. That in itself breaks tradition. More often than not, it was only sorcerers, especially those in the higher echelons of Jujutsu society, who were allowed to come and enjoy such liberties. 

But of course, Gojo Satoru was not such a man of tradition. He hated it, as much as your Kento. So, of course, to enjoy you and Kento’s company and to spite all these snobs, he made sure to invite you and everyone else.

You find that you’re at least enjoying the building’s architecture. You were a fan of architecture, in all forms and culture. You and your husband Kento shared that passion, more so when you both were in Denmark or when you both were in the countryside. 

Still, Gojo manor was not too bad. You marvel at the intricate carvings on the walls depicting centuries of legendary battles and heroics of history gone by. Each one was a reminder that this was not just a gathering but a showcase of the Jujutsu world's most powerful and influential. 

Sorcerers mingled, their robes embroidered with clan symbols and sigils that spoke of generations of power and prestige. Conversations buzzed with a mix of guarded politeness and subtle rivalry.

The room alive with an undercurrent of competition disguised as small talk. The sound of polite laughter mixed with the clink of glasses filled with aged sake, its delicate aroma weaving through the air like a ghost.

You stood near the buffet table, the scent of delicacies. Gojo Satoru did well with getting everything together for this, especially the food, all high quality — only the best of the Gojo clan head’s tastes. You both think the same in that exquisite taste. 

That certainly is why you were excited to taste everything. From the perfectly grilled yakitori, dainty bowls of ikura don, to the plates piled with fresh sashimi and brilliantly wrapped hamachi. They were all wafting around you. They were all perfect for you.

“I regret wearing this dress.” You tell yourself in a small mumble. “It’s too tight and I forgot Gojo likes good food like me. I thought he would have left it to his goons to decide the food menu…”

You were dressed in an elegant but simple gown, a deep navy blue that skimmed your figure without the drama of glittering embellishments or the boldness of vibrant silks. Compared to the ostentatious displays around you, it felt almost understated, but it was you.

You could hardly care about the fashions of Jujutsu society. You liked your fashion. And your husband did too. That was all that mattered. You adjusted the silver cuff on your wrist, a small but meaningful gift from Nanami, its cool weight reassuring against your skin.

You glanced around, eyes catching a few familiar faces. There was Nitta Akari from administration and management, gesturing animatedly as she spoke with her colleagues, her face flushed with excitement. Mei Mei stood nearby, her icy beauty undiminished by the cool smirk she wore. 

She held court as always, eyes sharp as a hawk’s as she listened, spoke, and effortlessly commanded the attention of everyone within earshot. Hell, there was Usami too — but he was surrounded by those vultures from the conservative factions. 

But most of the women were like the wives of powerful clan leaders. They represented their husbands, who thought it too boring to join the gathering or rather were abandoned by their husbands to do other things. 

Yet they were powerful women in their own right and they wanted you to know it. They wanted for you to see it, so badly. Their outfits elaborate displays of status, from the gold-threaded kimonos to the jewels woven into their hair.  Their makeup was meticulous, brows arched and lips painted in deep shades of crimson or plum. 

Most of them were interesting to gawk at. But you were certain they thought the same about you. Especially those specific women. It was those more haughty women, clan women under the big three who glanced your way with subtle, evaluating eyes.

You could feel their scrutiny as tangibly as the satin ribbons brushing your wrists. A fan fluttered as a woman whispered behind it, her gaze cutting sideways toward you. She looked as haughty and dry as her entire face.

“Do you think she really fits in here?” one murmured, just loud enough for the question to reach your ears.

“I heard she’s not even a sorcerer.” came the response, this time with a touch of incredulity. “Yet they let her come near our children, to teach them about a world they don’t dwell in. Pathetic waste of time!” 

You pretended not to hear, reaching for a skewer of yakitori to busy your hands. But your pulse quickened, not with embarrassment, but with the awareness of the reason behind their thinly veiled curiosity. They must have been Zenin women, perhaps married to the higher ranked men in Zenin Naobito’s circle. You felt bad for them, yet you also hated them. 

But you knew that wasn’t the case for their hatred of you. Not exactly. It wasn’t the fact that you were an outsider, a non-sorcerer working as a window at Jujutsu High, who taught mundane subjects like history and literature to the students. 

Nor was it that the students often liked you better, seeking your lessons as a respite from their harsher training. It was the reason these women whispered behind jeweled fans and exchanged glances tinged with envy: you were the much beloved wife of Nanami Kento, the stalwart, handsome, and sought-after grade one sorcerer.

From across the room, you caught sight of him. He stood among a small circle of colleagues, the sharp lines of his tailored suit a contrast to the flowing robes around him. His expression was as stoic as ever, but there was a small shift when he saw you, a softening in his gaze that no one else would notice. 

To everyone else, he was the unapproachable, severe sorcerer who never let his guard down. But you knew the way his bright eyes would close just slightly when he was tired, the low chuckle he reserved for evenings spent at home, the way his voice lowered when he told you stories of his youth.

“Good evening.” came a familiar voice that broke through your wandering thoughts. You turned to find Ieiri Shoko standing beside you, her expression one of relaxed amusement. 

She was dressed in an elegant black ensemble that perfectly complemented her laid-back demeanor, a glass of sake dangling effortlessly from her fingers. Her sharp eyes glimmered with mischief as she surveyed the room.

“Evening.” You greeted back at her, your lips sharply echoing into a smile. “Why are you alone? Where’s your darling at?”

“Oh, surrounded by those pathetic vultures.” She pointed at the table where she was talking with the Kyoto women, smiling brightly. “Ugh, I hate those freaks. I can’t believe she’s around them. They’re not even worth an ounce of her giggles.”

“Geto–san has to make good with people somehow.” You pointed out to her, humming. “Connections are just connections. But you’re her lover. It’s been some years. Breathe, Sho.”

She rolls her eyes, before smiling. “Yeah, yeah.”

“How have you been?”

“Good, as always.” Shoko retorts back, humming at you. “I just wish I had cigarettes. But she said if I tried to smoke tonight, she wouldn’t let me hit.”

You laugh at her bluntness. “I do the same to Kento too, but with his alcohol. You both have to be kept on a leash.”

 “Oh the things we do for love.” She sighed heavily before looking at the ones glaring at you both. It wasn’t hard to notice those clusters of sorcerer wives eyeing you with thinly veiled intentions. “You’re doing well against their scrutiny, I see.”

“Barely. But I do find myself enjoying it.” you admitted, a small laugh escaping despite the tension. Shoko’s company was always welcome; her nonchalance had a way of making everything seem less dire.

Shoko took a slow sip from her glass, savoring it like she savored every moment. She shifted her gaze to one of the wives, a woman with a crimson kimono embroidered so elaborately it looked more like a tapestry than a garment. The woman was whispering behind her fan, eyes darting toward you and Shoko with a practiced side glance.

“Ah, her again. I thought she wouldn’t be here after she got exposed for her affair.” Shoko said, rolling her eyes with exaggerated flair. She leaned closer, voice low but biting. “Careful, she’s liable to sprain her neck with how much she’s been glaring. I heard last time she tried something that intense, she nearly fainted from holding her breath.”

You stifled a laugh, your shoulders shaking with barely contained mirth. Shoko’s dry humor was like a breath of fresh air, slicing through the tension with an effortless charm. The woman in the crimson kimono noticed your reaction and stiffened, her cheeks blooming with indignation.

“Let them look, let them whisper. Let them be jealous of you.” Shoko said, turning her eyes back to you. Her voice shifted to something more genuine, the mocking edge softening. “They’ll keep wondering because they can’t figure it out. You’re different, and they hate not understanding something. It’s their worst fear.”

You exhaled a breath you didn’t know you were holding, the knots in your chest loosening. Shoko’s words were more than just comfort; they were a reminder that your place here wasn’t defined by others’ perceptions but by your own truth and by the fact that Nanami stood beside you, unwavering.

“Thanks, Sho. I appreciate it a lot.” you said, voice steadying.

She gave a small shrug, the kind that said don’t make it a big deal. With another sip of sake, she nodded toward the buffet. “Now, let’s hope they restock the good tempura. If not, someone’s getting cursed tonight, and it won’t be me.”

She winked, then sauntered away, leaving you with a smile and the indelible impression that you weren’t as alone as you sometimes felt. Once she moved to the corner to see about the temperature, you could feel from the corner of your eye.

You saw the clan wives exchanging glances again. Their perfectly painted lips tightened just slightly as Nanami Kento, breaking from his group, made his way toward you, every step a quiet declaration.

“Is it true? She’s the one married to him?” another ignorant one whispered, leaning into a group of women whose gazes darted in your direction.

“Yes, the one with Nanami Kento, the number two of the first grade sorcerers.” another foolish one confirmed, unable to keep the hint of envy out of her voice. 

You turned slightly, pretending not to hear as you picked up a small plate of delicacies. You did not care for what they wanted to say about you. You were more focused on your desire to taste the dishes. The laughter and clinking glasses around you felt muted under the weight of the tension gathering nearby.

The whispers turned to sharp murmurs, punctuated by gasps and scandalized looks. But perhaps that bothered them even more, because they started making more comments.

“Who does she think she is, that no name wanna be?” The foolish one whispered, loud enough for people to hear her. But perhaps she does not realize she was not being discreet. 

The ignorant one scoffs in disbelief, shaking her head. “What a snob! How can Nanami-san be married to her?”

Shoko heard enough of it and turned around almost immediately from the dishes to the ladies. They jumped out of their seats. She rolls her eyes at them. It was as though she was just as annoyed as she was bored with them. 

“Honestly, get over yourselves. You all look like desperate idiots.” she said, a lazy smirk tugging at her lips as she leaned casually against a marble pillar. Everyone was now looking at them. Aren’t you at least going to have the gall to say it to our face, lady Kawami?”

The woman in the crimson kimono, lady Kawami, known for her sharp tongue and her greedy  ambition gasped, her painted lips parting in shock. Beside her, another woman with intricately styled hair and a pinched expression scowled deeply. 

“How dare you—”

“Isn’t that the truth?” Shoko’s laughter was light and mocking, yet the glint in her eyes held no softness. She tilted her head, pointing a perfectly manicured finger at Lady Kawami’s reddening face. “You think Nanami Kento would like an ugly face and a bad attitude like yours? Ha! You wish!”

The crowd that had gathered to eavesdrop was stunned into silence, eyes flicking between the women like spectators at a duel. The foolish one’s face turned a deep shade of red, while the ignorant one sputtered, looking moments away from summoning her husband and causing an uproar. 

“You cannot talk to us like that!” she shrieked, voice pitched high with indignation. “My husband will hear of this!”

“Now, now, lady Kawami, you shouldn’t treat my guests like that.” The familiar, light-hearted voice of Gojo Satoru interrupted the escalating tension. The two women felt their eyes widen. They quickly bow before him. “It’s so disrespectful, don’t you think?”

Heads turned as he approached, dressed in an exquisite black and silver kimono decorated with the Gojo clan crest. Even in traditional wear, he managed to exude a casual, almost irreverent charm. His dark, round glasses perched on his nose added to the effect as he lowered them just slightly, revealing eyes that shimmered with barely concealed amusement.

“Ah, Gojo-sama.” Lady Kawami said, trying to mask her fluster with a demure nod, but the tension in her posture betrayed her. “I didn’t mean any disrespect towards her, but surely you can understand that—”

“Oh, I understand completely, lady Kawami.” Gojo interrupted, a playful grin spreading across his face. He pushed his glasses back up, letting them catch the light so that the rest of the room was reflected in them. “I understand that you’re boring my dear friend Shoko, and frankly, I can’t have that. Her girlfriend wouldn't be so happy, either. And of course, I love my friend’s happiness.”

The subtle ripple of suppressed laughter ran through the more observant bystanders. Lady Kawami’s mouth snapped shut, her eyes narrowing dangerously. It was rare for someone to speak to her like that and get away with it, but this was Gojo Satoru. A man whose reputation as the most powerful sorcerer in the room and quite possibly the world would mean his words carried weight that no amount of social maneuvering could deflect.

Shoko’s smirk widened as she raised her glass in mock toast to Gojo, her eyes gleaming. “Well, look who decided to save the day. Dashing, really, Gojo.”

He winked at her. “Anything to make sure tonight stays interesting.”

The ignorant one, still seething but now cautious, looked between Gojo and Shoko before settling on silence. The power dynamics had shifted too sharply, and she knew better than to push further. No one can go against Gojo Satoru and not face repercussions. No one. And it would have ended up badly for their husbands and their families if they did. 

You exhaled, tension releasing from your shoulders as the spectacle unraveled. A small, knowing smile touched your lips as Kento's eyes found yours from across the room, his expression softening just a fraction, and you knew that you weren’t alone in facing these moments. You were surrounded by friends who would always have your back, in their own unique, if slightly chaotic, ways.

The room’s atmosphere gradually loosened, tension shifting back to its usual simmering undercurrent. Gojo’s playful banter had disarmed the scene, leaving only the embarrassed scowls of lady Kawami and her cohort. Shoko took another sip of her sake, the glint of satisfaction in her eyes clear as she watched the women bristle and disperse.

“Good job not throwing that plate, masterful control.” Shoko said to you, her voice carrying a hint of approval. She nodded at the untouched delicacies in your hand. “Would’ve been a waste of good food.”

You chuckled softly, appreciating her humor. “Shouldn’t you be saying that to yourself, Sho?”

“Well, I mean, that’s true.” 

Gojo laughs. “Shoko would have done worse than that and we both know it.”

“Hm, but I would have you carry my food to my table.”

“Oh? Then people would be surprised, how anyone can force the Gojo clan leader to do anything on a whim.”

Before you could respond, a presence behind you made the small hairs on your neck stand up in recognition. You turned, and there he was—Nanami Kento, striding toward you with the kind of quiet confidence that set him apart from the rest.

He looked ever so handsome, your husband. But when you get him even more up close? It’s a different story. He looked even more like a god when he stood before you this close.  

He took in the scene, eyes flicking over the lingering crowd, Gojo’s smirk, and Shoko’s knowing look. Then his attention settled on you, warm and steady. “I see I missed the entertainment.” he said, his voice deep and even, but with a trace of curiosity.

Gojo lifted a hand in a lazy wave. “Ah, Nanami, you missed Shoko here defending your lovely lady’s honor with an admirable lack of diplomacy.”

Kento’s brows lifted slightly, his gaze darting to Shoko, who shrugged, unbothered. “They deserved it.” she said, as if that were the most obvious fact in the world.

With a quiet exhale, Kento nodded, accepting the unspoken truth that you were protected by bonds deeper than mere duty. He reached out, placing a gentle hand on your shoulder. The small gesture spoke volumes, his touch grounding and reassuring. 

“Are you alright?” he asked, eyes searching yours for any trace of discomfort.

You smiled up at him, your earlier tension melting away entirely under his gaze. “I am now.”

The corners of his mouth twitched in what might have been a smile, subdued as always but unmistakably there. The few remaining onlookers, who had hoped to catch a new drama unfolding, exchanged glances before deciding they had better places to be.

Gojo clapped his hands, shattering the delicate silence that had settled. “Well, now that we’ve cleared the air, what do you say we toast to another evening of society’s finest theatrics?” His grin was as wide as ever, his glasses reflecting the chandelier’s light like a pair of miniature suns.

Nanami shook his head, but there was a hint of amusement in his eyes as he glanced at you, then back at Gojo. “You never change, Gojo.” he muttered, the ghost of a smile touching his lips.

“And wouldn’t it be boring if I did?” Gojo countered, raising a brow.

Shoko raised her glass, smirking at Gojo before tipping it toward you and Nanami. “Unwavering loyalty and keeping things interesting!” she said.

You lifted your plate with a grin, and Kento, never one for dramatics, simply inclined his head. But the unspoken promise in his gaze, the silent support he offered, said more than any toast or witty comment ever could. In a hall filled with power, it was that quiet moment, surrounded by friends and the one who held your heart, that resonated most.

Soon enough, Shoko returned to her girlfriend with her plate stacked with food on one hand and the other holding a glass of wine. Her girlfriend, Geto Suguru’s younger sister, was waiting for her at one of the tables by the back.

Of course, Gojo Satoru returned to moving about and greeting everyone, but he seemed to have been halted by lord Kawami, probably trying to get things straight and settled. No one likes losing his favor after all. It was better that everything was smoothed out with him.

The incident however did not stop the women from continuing to look at your husband wantingly. One of the clan leader’s wives, her jeweled fan hiding half her face, whispered something to the woman beside her. They glanced over, eyes narrowing as if they could decipher what spell had ensnared someone like Nanami Kento.

“They’re watching again.” you murmured, feeling a twinge of jealousy and self-consciousness.

You immediately caught the glance of a woman adorned with a striking emerald necklace that glittered every time she turned. Her expression was polished and unreadable, but the pointed way she looked at you sent an old, familiar discomfort crawling up your spine.

Kento’s presence next to you was a calm in the storm, an anchor against the waves of whispers and stares. He tilted his head slightly, just enough that the room’s golden glow cast warm highlights across his sharp features. His eyes, serious and unwavering, met yours.

“I don’t like the way they’re looking at you.” You whisper to him.

“Let them, honey.” he said, his deep voice rich with certainty. “That’s all they can do.”

He took your hand, calloused but gentle, and squeezed it just enough to send a rush of comfort through you. His thumb traced the side of your hand in a subtle, soothing gesture. The cool metal of his ring finger brushes against your skin with intent. 

“They should know that I am exactly where I choose to be. I’m a married man, after all.”

A silence swept over the nearby crowd, as if Nanami Kento’s words, though spoken softly, carried through the hall like a sudden change in the wind. The clan leaders’ wives, women who could command a room with a flick of their eyes or a whisper laced with intent, shifted uncomfortably. For all their power, their meticulously curated reputations, and the alliances they upheld like prized heirlooms, they had never been the center of such unwavering devotion.

Akari from administration glanced over and offered a subtle nod of approval, a small smile playing on her lips as she resumed her conversation. Mei Mei, sharp-eyed and ever perceptive, caught the moment as well. She raised her glass, her smirk deepening as though to say, well played.

The subtle tension that once swirled around the room, woven through glances and whispers, began to dissipate. Some turned their attention back to their conversations, laughter resuming, but not without the occasional glance in your direction, this time tinged more with begrudging respect than judgment.

“Kento, baby.” you said softly, a small smile breaking through as your heart settled back into its natural rhythm. The weight of self-consciousness fell away, replaced by a warm sense of belonging that his presence always seemed to ignite.

“Hmm?” he replied, his gaze still watching you with an intensity that was rare for him, except when you were alone.

“Thank you, baby.” you whispered, squeezing his hand back.

His eyes softened, the smallest, barely-there curve of his lips showing just the hint of a smile meant only for you. “There’s nothing to thank me for, honey.” he replied, tilting his head as if to read your thoughts. “It’s simply the truth.”

══════════════════

IT HAPPENED AS QUICKLY AS ONE COULD BLINK. But you suppose you can’t help it. Your desire for pleasure was fast when it came to Nanami Kento. Much more so when you’re jealous. BUt you knew your husband liked that. More than he likes to admit to you.

You felt a delicious rush of power as you yanked him closer by his tie, leading him out of the crowded hall. Away from the watchful eyes and mingling strangers, it was just the two of you in the quiet, dim hallway, with only your quickened breaths filling the silence.

The door closed behind you, and before you could say another word, his hands were on you, strong and possessive, pressing you back against the cool tiles of the bathroom wall. His fingers traced over your hips and along your waist, leaving a tingling heat in their wake.

It was as if he was memorizing every inch of you all over again. You looked up at him, catching his gaze; his eyes were heavy with desire, and the way he looked at you made your knees feel weak. He was entirely yours in that moment, and you were entirely his.

Your hands slid up his chest, feeling the warmth beneath his shirt, his heartbeat echoing your own. His mouth was on yours again, the kiss deep and ravenous, filling the space with the sounds of quickened breath and desperate touches. The world beyond the bathroom faded, leaving only the two of you, tangled in each other.

When he pulled back to look at you, you could barely catch your breath. His hand found the curve of your neck, fingers tracing gently along your jawline, and your own hands gripped his shoulders, grounding you as your pulse raced.

“You’re so good….” you managed to whisper breathlessly, your voice trembling as you tried to form words. "Kento….." you murmured, the words spilling out between gasps, each syllable almost a sigh as you clung to him. 

The intensity of his gaze made you shiver, your own desire reflected in his eyes. He leaned closer, his breath warm against your cheek, and you felt a thrill ripple through you as he whispered your name. His breath felt hot, so tenderly warm against your skin. And even more so when he said your name in that breathy way. That made you feel even more excitement.

For a moment, you both paused, catching your breath as the heat of the moment washed over you. His fingers brushed along your cheek, his thumb tracing the corner of your mouth, as though savoring this quiet, charged moment before pulling you back in with the same raw, electric passion.

And in that hidden space, the two of you lost yourselves, caught in the perfect, unbreakable intimacy that felt like a world away from the bustling party. If you both had your way, both of you would have been locked away from the world. All you needed was each other.

His hands explored with a possessive tenderness, each touch leaving trails of fire across your skin. You let out a shaky breath, fingers curling into the fabric of his shirt as he pressed his lips along your jaw, down to the sensitive spot just below your ear. You shivered, feeling him smile against your skin, clearly pleased at the effect he was having on you.

You pulled him even closer, fingers moving from his shirt to his tie, loosening it slightly, just enough to slide it off his neck. Your breath hitched as he leaned in, his eyes fixed on you with a focused intensity that made you feel as though you were the only person in the world.

"Can’t believe you dragged me out here, honey." he murmured, his voice low and teasing, his words sending a thrill through you. "But I’d follow you anywhere. I’ll make love to you anywhere you want me to."

His words made your heart race, and you felt the butterflies from earlier stirring again as he leaned in, his mouth meeting yours with a new urgency. It was as if all the tension from the night poured into that kiss, building into something raw and unstoppable.

As he pulled you closer, his fingers gently brushed your hair back from your face, and you caught his gaze, breathless. You couldn’t help the small, breathless laugh that escaped as you looked at him, both of you a little dizzy, a little wild.

“This is dangerous, you know, baby.” you whispered, a playful smirk dancing on your lips as you tightened your hold on him. But he only raised an eyebrow, his own grin tugging at the corners of his mouth.

“Good.” he replied, his voice a low murmur. "Wouldn’t have it any other way."

Soon enough, you were under his thumb. His movements grew rougher, each thrust deep and unrelenting, sending a surge of sensation through you that bordered on overwhelming. Every press of his body against yours was a heady mixture of strength and passion. 

And it was all you could do to cling to him, fingers digging into his shoulders as the intensity built. His pace quickened, and you felt your back arch instinctively, unable to control the way your body responded to him.

Your breaths came in sharp, shallow gasps, each one catching in your throat as he pushed you closer and closer to the edge, his touch both possessive and tender. Your senses blurred; the world narrowed down to the feel of him, the heat between you, the way he whispered your name against your skin in a voice that was both rough and reverent.

Every movement, every thrust sent waves of pleasure coursing through you, each one pushing you further until you were lost in the sheer intensity of it all. You gripped him tightly, almost desperately, as though grounding yourself against the delicious onslaught. 

His name left your lips in broken gasps, and as you met his gaze, the shared passion and vulnerability in his eyes were enough to undo you completely. Everything about your husband makes you feel alive. Especially at this moment. He was good at making you cry for life.

In that moment, you felt yourself surrender, giving in fully to the dizzying rush, to him, and to the warmth and bliss that consumed you both. You shifted slightly beneath him, the heat of your body still trapped in the shared intimacy of the moment. The words escaped you before you could stop them, your jealousy bubbling to the surface. 

"I saw the way they were looking at you tonight, baby." you whispered, your voice a blend of frustration and desire, your fingers gripping his shoulders tightly. "All those women... They were ogling you, making eyes at you, and I couldn’t—"

His breath hitched at the raw honesty in your voice. His eyes darkened, a flicker of something primal flashing across his face. Without breaking his rhythm, he leaned closer, his lips brushing against your ear as he growled, "Don’t you dare think about them. You're the only one I want. I only want my wife. My little precious wife."

His words were a balm, but the way his body moved, the deep, relentless thrusts, were what truly silenced your insecurities. The force of each movement was almost punishing, his hips driving into you harder, making your head spin with pleasure. His hands gripped your hips, steadying you as he picked up speed, his breath ragged against your skin.

"You think I want them?" he asked, his voice a dark, velvety rasp. "No. It's you, only you. Always been you." His words came out in desperate gasps, the intensity of his thrusts growing, pushing you both to the edge. "You’re mine. No one else matters."

You moaned, feeling a thrill surge through your chest, his raw claim igniting something deeper within you. His pace never faltered, and as he rams into you harder.

Each movement seems to strip away the last remnants of your doubts. Your body responded, the tension in you winding tighter, tighter, until you were sure you'd break. You could barely speak, your voice hitching as you met his powerful thrusts with a soft whimper, your body rocking with the force of him.

"I’m jealous, baby. I always am." you admitted, your hands tracing down his chest, grasping at him desperately, the words slipping between gasps. "But you're mine too. Only mine."

"Always have been, honey. Only yours." he replied, his hands pressing you harder into the cold tile as he moved faster, pushing you further toward the edge with each heated thrust. 

His voice was a low growl, his rhythm unrelenting, and you could feel him losing himself as much as you were, both of you consumed by the need, the overwhelming desire to claim and be claimed.

The moment his lips crashed into yours, everything else seemed to melt away. The overwhelming intensity of the kiss mirrored the urgency of his movements, his body pressing deeper into yours, each thrust sending waves of heat through you. The kiss was possessive, his tongue claiming yours with the same hunger that burned between you both.

As he pushed deeper, his rhythm becoming relentless, you felt a broken cry escape from you, a mixture of pleasure and raw emotion that you couldn’t hold back. His eyes, dark with desire, caught yours, and for a moment, you saw something deeper than just lust—something primal and protective, something that made your heart race in a way you couldn’t explain.

"You’re so fucking beautiful, honey." he whispered against your lips, his voice rough with the same need he’d been building in both of you. “My wife is so fucking beautiful.” 

His hands moved to your hips, pulling you impossibly closer as he thrust deeper, pushing you to the brink, your cries turning into soft whimpers as your body was caught in the storm of sensation. It felt so good, it always has been.

The deeper he is, the deeper the pleasure fills you. The more you cry out and moan. The more he tries to defy the possibilities, thrusting deeper to fill you more and more.

The tears that pricked the corners of your eyes weren't from pain—no, it was something more complex, something that left you breathless. It was the weight of the connection, the force of his touch, and the emotional release that you hadn’t expected.

All combined into something that made your chest tighten with overwhelming feeling. You cried because he was inside you in every way, not just physically but emotionally, each thrust deeper, each kiss harder.

Kento pulled away slightly, his thumb brushing away a tear that had slipped down your cheek, his breath hot against your face. His eyes softened for a moment, but the hunger in them never dulled. 

"You’re mine, only mine, wife." he breathed, his voice low but full of meaning, before kissing you again, harder this time, as though proving to you what he’d just spoken.

The kiss deepened as he pulled you even closer, his body pressing against yours with a fervor that made your entire being hum with raw need. You could feel every inch of him, every movement of his muscles, and it was as if the world had disappeared entirely, leaving just the two of you tangled in this electric, consuming moment.

His thrusts became more forceful, each one driving deeper, pushing you to the edge of something wild and uncontrollable. Your nails dug into his back, clinging to him for support as his mouth moved from yours, trailing down your neck, biting and sucking as he marked you, claiming you completely.

"Don't hold back, honey." he murmured against your skin, his breath ragged. "Let go for me. I need you to feel this... all of it."

You couldn't hold back, not anymore. Not even if anyone was to hear outside. You didn’t feel bad about being this loud because it was your pleasure. About the pleasure he was giving you. He was making you feel good and you wanted him to know it. 

“Good baby, my good little wife. Take me. Take me whole.”

His words hit something deep inside, and you cried out, your voice a broken whisper as your body surrendered fully to him, to the pleasure, to the overwhelming emotions that swirled inside you. His name escaped your lips in a desperate, breathless moan, and the sound seemed to spur him on, his pace quickening as he met you with relentless urgency.

Each thrust pushed you further into a frenzy of sensation, and the pleasure that had once been distant now consumed you completely. The tears that had been building in your eyes spilled over, not from pain, but from the intensity, from the way his body moved with yours in perfect rhythm, from the way he made you feel so utterly seen, so completely his.

Kento’s hand moved to your face, his thumb gently swiping at the tears on your cheek, a tender touch amidst the feverish passion. His eyes softened for just a moment, but then they hardened with desire as he kissed you again, his tongue tasting your lips, your moans swallowed by the deep kiss.

"You're everything to me, honey." he growled, his voice barely audible between breaths. "And I’ll make sure you never forget that."

His words, the way his body pressed into yours, the way his hands held you so firmly. It all built up to something so deep, so visceral that you couldn’t tell where your body ended and his began. Everything inside you snapped, the waves of pleasure crashing over you in a rush, leaving you breathless and shaking in his arms. 

Your cries were mingled with his own as he lost himself in the moment, the sound of skin against skin filling the small space as you both gave in to the release, the powerful culmination of everything that had been building between you.

As the waves of pleasure slowly subsided, leaving both of you breathless and spent, the quiet hum of the room returned, only now it felt like a distant memory compared to the electric tension between you. You both lingered in the aftermath, bodies still pressed together, hearts racing in sync. 

Your breath was ragged, your fingers tracing the sweat-slick skin of his back, grounding yourself in the sensation of him still so close. The room was quiet, save for the soft rustling of your clothes and the echo of your breaths.

But just as you began to collect yourself, a sound broke the stillness—a soft thud of footsteps, followed by the faint murmur of voices. Your heart skipped a beat as the realization hit. Your boldness had gotten inflated by sanity. 

You both hadn’t noticed the soft creak of the door, hadn’t heard the hushed conversations approaching. And then, before either of you could react, the door was pushed open, revealing the clan wives, standing in the doorway, eyes wide with shock, mouths agape.

Kento’s gaze flickered to the doorway, but when he saw the surprised looks on their faces, he didn’t flinch, didn’t move away. He stayed right where he was, his hands still possessively on you, his lips curled into a confident, unbothered smirk. He looks at you, mesmerized by you. By his want for you. Nothing else mattered. Decency, rules, proportionality — they’re done when he makes love to you.

Yet when you looked at him. Nothing else mattered. You too also didn’t care now. A sense of defiance rose within you, the fire from before still burning strong. Without a second thought, you pulled Kento closer, your hands grasping his face as you tilted your head up to meet his lips. The kiss was fierce and unapologetic, claiming him fully in front of everyone who dared to look.

You pulled away slightly, just enough to look him in the eyes, your voice low but steady, a possessive edge coloring your words. "You're only mine, hm? Forever, baby." you whispered, your fingers gently tracing his jawline as you met his smirk.

His gaze softened for a moment, his lips curling into a grin that sent a shiver down your spine. "Always, honey." he replied, his voice a low rumble that held all the certainty in the world. “Forever.”

The clan wives stood frozen once again, caught between disbelief and curiosity, but neither of you acknowledged them again. You didn’t need to. Kento's words, and the way he held you, told them everything they needed to know.

You were his, and he was yours.

Forever.

[open-era]

The Art of Value Investing à la Warren Buffett

Discover the timeless wisdom of Warren Buffett's value investing approach. Unlock the secrets of finding undervalued stocks and investing for long-term success. Join us on a journey into the art of value investing. #WarrenBuffett #ValueInvesting

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