#can the man please pick a name and stick to it so I don’t have to tag him three times

[muchosbesitos]

CANDY SHOP

horny and inexperienced, choso stumbles across a sex shop nearby. little did he know his purchase of a toy would include more than stellar customer service.

FEATURING: choso kamo x fem! sex store worker

CONTENTS: 18+ content, MDNI. non canon compliant/au, smut, use of a toy, sorta kinda public, orgasm denial, submissive choso, use of mistress

WORD COUNT: 1.2k

AUTHOR’S NOTE: i love pathetic men (ᵔᴥᵔ)

“welcome to arousal zone.”

you stood behind the counter with a playboy magazine in hand, chewing cherry flavored gum while haphazardly flipping through a couple of the pages. anything that helped pass the slow shift faster.

working at a sex store on the outskirts of tokyo hadn’t been exactly what you’d wrote down on your five year plan—but it paid the bills. once you removed the occasional frat boy that stumbled in buying an anal plug as a gag, the job wasn’t too bad.

you looked over to see the pale man stepping foot into the store—immediately looking out of his element. he gawked at the selection available at the front like a zoo exhibit, staring at anything and everything that he could take in before making his way further into the shop.

choso roamed the halls of the store like a lost puppy—staring at all the different toys outlining the shelves. cock rings. fluffy handcuffs. pocket puss- choso nearly cracked his neck with how fast he did a double take, eagerly placing the box in his hands. he began reading through it, sticking it under his arm when he finished.

along with a waterproof vibrator. until he realized.. he had no idea how any of this shit worked.

“excuse me,” he walked up to the counter with the two items in tow, meeting your bored expression when you looked up from the magazine.

“do you have any tips for any toys… or how they work?” he rubbed the back of his neck, a sheepish expression on his face at the question. you raised a brow, leaning across the counter. not missing the way his gaze went down to your chest.

“well it usually depends on what you’re into, but i can give you a hands-on demonstration if you’d like.”

which is how you found yourself locked in the cramped fitting room, rubbing your palm across the stranger’s hardening cock. “lemme see the toys you picked out,” you snagged the boxes up before eyeing each piece, deciding to unbox the vibrator.

“so this one has four modes—each one more intense than the last,” you explained, your fingers tracing the outline of his cock. you looked up from the manual to see him gulp, a devilish smile appearing on your lips. “don’t worry, i’ll take care of you.”

you flipped the switch on, the wand vibrating in your hand, “though i gotta say, you’re desperate. letting me do this and i don’t even know your name.” his cock visibly twitched the moment you pressed the tip against the tent in his pants.

“d’ya want to know my name?” the man asked through shaky breaths, his chest starting to heave. he unzipped his pants, lowering them down to his thighs before speaking up again, his cock leaking onto the patch of hair going up his stomach.

before you had the chance to respond, he quickly spoke up, “choso, my name’s choso.”

“choso,” you tested the name on your tongue, a moan leaving his lips when you did. you slowly started to move the vibrator against his hard cock, watching the man grow even more and more sensitive.

“more,” he looked over at you with big, pleading eyes that almost made you want to agree.

“try that again,” you clicked your tongue, pulling the vibrator away completely. you dragged your manicured nail down his happy trail, pulling away before you reached the trimmed patch of hair at the base.

choso racked his brain as he tried to figure out what you wanted to hear, deciding to go with the next best option, “give me more, please. i’ll do whatever you want me to do, accept whatever. just give me more.”

“that’s it, there you go,” you placed the vibrator against his shaft yet again, moving to the second level of intensity. your hands moved down to his sac, holding them in your palm before starting to gently move them in your hold.

“ngh-fuck!” choso was reduced to a puddled mess, gripping onto the ends of the dressing room bench. you switched over to the last level without much of a warning, feeling his thighs quiver underneath you.

he tried—he really did. try to think of anything else other than the impending orgasm. thought about the wretched smell wafting off his brother’s back. thought about the questionable things he’d encountered during his late night wanks. but to no avail.

it was shameful how quickly just a couple of your words and the vibrator had him this close.

"lemme cum," choso whined, his cock twitching with every buzz of the vibrator that jolted against his shaft. drop after drop of precum fell onto your hand as he approached his climax, his balls growing heavy.

"i don't know, you were being a little impatient there, baby. we talked about this," you cooed, cruelly pulling the vibrator away just right before he had the chance to cum. a loud whine left his lips, bucking his hips to try to get any friction. to try to get anything.

“p-please mistress. make me c-cum,” choso’s voice cracked, quickly correcting his mistake. you pressed the vibrator two times, lowering the intensity before pressing it against his sensitive cock. rubbing his own pre with the wand like lube.

“see what happens when you ask nicely,” you mused, leaning in and pressing an open-mouthed kiss on the side of his neck that had him shivering. gently suctioning the skin between your lips, leaving him with a purple-red reminder of your time together. “but fine, i promised to take care of you after all.”

choso came within seconds of you increasing the vibration against him again, a pathetic and desperate moan leaving his lips, “right there, mistress. right there, please please don’t stop.” rope after rope of cum landed over his pants and thighs, a couple droplets managing to land on your fingers.

his eyes were locked on the way you stuck your pointer in between your lips, watching intently as you swirled your tongue around it to collect every drop. it had him wondering what you’d do to his cock if given enough time. “leave a couple seconds after,” you broke his fantasy, getting up from your spot and setting the vibrator down.

discreetly leaving the dressing room like it was all a dirty secret. and as the post nut clarity started to hit—hard (almost nearly as hard as him after that sinful imagery), he started to feel like a dirty secret.

choso took a couple seconds to gather his breath, pulling his pants up and stuffing the vibrator back in its box before making his way over to the register.

"come again soon," he didn’t miss your innuendo, scrambling to pick up his bag as soon as the receipt printed. he left the store with his cheeks slightly flushed and his zipper down, a couple white stains marking the black material of his jeans.

about as subtle as a bull in a china shop.

you turned to look at the next customer in line, a balding middle aged man with a gold ring sparkling on his finger, “can i help you?”

"can i get the same service that he got?"

[paris-in-space]

Today I offer sketches of the Suitor Squad™️ because I’m not entirely sure when I’m going to draw them properly but really wanted to do something.

[chilschuck]

beach day headcanons please (any characters you’d like)!!! we were deprived of the typical anime fanservice imo

`✦ ˑ ִֶ 𓂃⊹ ohhhhhh my gosh anon i was literally SO SO HAPPY to get this ask!!! decided to stick with the usual charas you guys enjoy, plus some falin!!! hope this turned out okay and thank you so much for having me write it for you!!! <333

— DUNMESHI BEACH DAY HCS.

꒰ charas: ꒱ laios, chilchuck, falin, & mickbell.

꒰ warnings: ꒱ none! sfw + fluff with gn!reader.

꒰ wc: ꒱ 1.4k

✦ hope this turned out okay!! it was such a cute idea and so much fun that if anyone has requests for more charas, i’d be more than happy to do it!! <33

— LAIOS:

✦ We know that he doesn’t do well in hot weather, so you can imagine he’d be sporting only swimsuit trunks and flip flops for sure.

✦ Definitely enjoys being in the ocean, especially to try and cool off. You can imagine he’d be really interested in knowing more about what’s in the water around him, and probably points things out to you that he finds interesting.

✦ Be prepared for him to burn really fast, so make sure he gets plenty of sunscreen!! It’s always cute to see him walk up to you and ask for help, in which you gladly oblige. You help get those spots he can’t reach, and he does appreciate just how thorough you are.

✦ You’ll probably end up splashing him, which he’ll return in kind. Be careful what you start, because you’ll end up drenched by the end of it!

✦ A picnic on the beach with him is definitely something that happens while you’re there. Laios is so excited to share a meal with you in such a beautiful setting, and finds himself giving you that goofy grin at just how happy he is. He makes sure to pull all the stops to make this enjoyable for you, even preparing your favorite snacks.

✦ Definitely goes home with a few shells or shark teeth, if he found any. Laios thinks they’re too cool not to pick up and examine, running over to you and showing you what he found in the sand.

“You won’t believe what I found!” Laios calls out to you, jogging over to where you sat on your towel. His hands cradled something, and as he stretched his arms out to show you, a smile grew on your lips.

In his hands was an almost perfect conch shell, something he held with pride and excitement. His smile matching yours, he said your name softly. “Do you think if you put it up to your ear, you’d hear the ocean like those stories?”

You shrugged your shoulders, not able to hold back the giggle at his glee. “Only one way to find out, right? Just make sure there’s nothing still living in it.”

Laios still keeps that shell in a safe place, wanting to remember the day you spent together.

— CHILCHUCK:

✦ This man is definitely showing up in a Hawaiian dad shirt and cargo shorts. The first few buttons are undone, and he has a pair of sandals on that he insists he only saves for days like this.

✦ Chilchuck plans on staying at the spot you claimed with towels and an umbrella, a drink in hand. He’s definitely enjoying the sight of you in a swimsuit and the breeze ruffling your hair, but he’d never admit that.

✦ You try to pull him towards the water, but you only manage to get his feet wet. Chil tells you this is as far as he’ll go, but that disappointed pout on your face makes his heart race a bit. Ok, fine… Maybe he’ll go up to his knees for you…

✦ Probably spends most of his time drinking and relaxing, a hand behind his head and alcohol in the other. Very dad-like of him, you muse, which causes his face to heat up and grumbles to leave him.

✦ Ends up falling asleep, the sound of the waves and the secluded shade from the sun causing his eyes to flutter shut. You can’t help but laugh a little, returning from your time in the water to study his sleeping form. He looks so peaceful like this, and you don’t have the heart to wake him up…

✦ If you do somehow manage to get him fully in the water, be prepared for him to get targeted by the tide. Maybe you even suggest getting him a float, which he gives you that blank stare in reply.

“There, that’s not so bad, is it?” You say as he finds himself in the middle of a tube float, eyes narrowed towards you.

“This makes me feel like a kid.” Chilchuck complains, yet you see him grip onto it tighter as an incoming wave makes an appearance.

You pull it over to you, the inflatable bumping into your stomach as you give him that teasing grin. “Guess you’re stuck with me while we’re out here, huh?”

The half-foot groans, debating on whether or not he’d make it if he tried to swim back to shore right now.

— FALIN:

✦ Wears a light t-shirt and shorts, opting to be comfy! She also has a hat she wears to help keep the sun out of her eyes. If she did plan on swimming, I like to imagine she’d have a swim shirt and a one piece swimsuit!

✦ Like her brother, she was excited to see all the shells and creatures at the beach, bringing you things she found fascinating. You might even find her entranced with a sand dollar and stating how pretty it is.

✦ Walks into the water hand in hand with you, but also really enjoys walking along the sand near the shore. As the sun sets, she intertwines her fingers with yours, leading you along and watching the pinks and blues in the sky reflect on the waves.

✦ Also definitely goes on a picnic with you, the beach making her cheeks even more rosy than usual. You can’t help but tell her how cute she looks in her outfit, her hair loosely blowing in the breeze. Falin would give you a sweet smile, the same one you fell in love with.

✦ Don’t be surprised if she leads you back to the water after you make sure she’s not getting burnt, insisting that she wants to enjoy how cool the waves feel. You’re more than happy to walk out a little deeper with her, noticing how she still keeps your hand in her own.

“It’s so nice out here…” You heard her mutter, a content smile dimpling her cheeks. The sunset left a sweet gradient in her hair, something that made you unable to look away.

“It really is. Too bad it’s getting dark,” you reply, a little disappointed that the day is already over. Falin squeezed your hand, pulling you away from your thoughts.

“Maybe we should stay and watch the stars come out.” Her voice was so gentle, causing you to give her a grin of your own.

“Let’s stay a little longer.”

— MICKBELL:

✦ Like the official art we have of him swimming with Kuro, he’s definitely sporting a pair of swim trunks and flip flops, with his hair in his signature ponytail.

✦ He and Kuro are so excited to swim, and drag you along to the water as soon as you get there. Of course, Mick is either clinging to you or to Kuro when in the waves, not seeking to really swim on his own.

✦ You definitely enjoy watching them swim and play around more than you’d like to admit, especially with Mick hiding his face and complaining when Kuro decides to shake all the water out of his coat.

✦ Mick really likes finding shells he thinks look neat, and showing them off to you and Kuro proudly. Maybe you even find yourself building a sand castle, with him and his buddy watching closely and moving to help you. He’s in charge of decorating it, while you’re in charge of building it! Kuro helps dig up some of the sand to use.

✦ The three of you end up getting a sweet treat, cooling off in the shade and enjoying the time spent together. Knowing Mickbell, he’s going to lay his head in your lap as he rests after so much activity, looking up at you with that cheeky grin he usually has.

“I could get used to this!” Mickbell sighs, nuzzling into your lap as he makes himself comfortable. Kuro is watching the waves, sitting beside you as the sun begins to fade from the horizon.

“I would’ve thought you’d be ready to go home a lot sooner.” You teased him, brushing his messy bangs out of his face. Scoffing, he made sure you saw as he rolled his eyes.

“If I didn’t have you and Kuro, maybe… But this is something we’ll have to do again. Right, Kuro?” The Kobold nodded, causing a warm grin to spread on your face. He was certainly right about that.

[dontbesoweirdkira]

I propose an idea! Romantic Yandere Mark Grayson with batsib mc….oh I can feel the chaos that these two worlds would bring😂

A/N: "BIYVjhKDjshuguj" was my inital reaction to this requests because this is tew good. If you've seen my Mark Grayson post then you know exactly how insane this mf is.

Warnings: Pure crack to be honest? Like this is not even a serious post. I was laughing the entire time. Don’t even know where I was going with this but…I had fun

Requests? always open!

Masterlist

Two black haired, attention whore yanderes with the same last name, walk into a room with their darling in it...who's winning?

I mean technically their meeting is not too far fetched. Mortal Kombat and DC had a crossover..and Invincible is also apart of Mortal Kombat which means- nvm, you didn't ask for that.

Here's the thing, everyone in the family dislikes Mark but yan! Mark and Dick HATE each other the most but because they are low key so similar. Mark is obviously way more extreme but i digress. He brings out the absolutely worse out of Dick.

Like Dick has picked up a Knife and contemplated murder.

Mark and Dick's interactions are hilarious though?? Like they both have the exact same fake smile and passive (heavy on the aggressive) behaviors.

"Ahhh, Mark, we're always pleased to host you since y'know your parents obviously need some sort of break from an irritant, such as yourself."

"Thanks, Dick! But regardless of how much of an irritant i am to them, least i still have two biological parents to care for me. Maybe it's because they're not patrons of the circus....?"

*backhands him*

Jason isn't subtle and has whipped out his guns, ready to blast that mf. He's been the closet to causing Mark to blow up the mansion. It was a whole thing and you dumped Mark over it but of course he gaslighted you.

I think the family doesn't like the fact you're dating someone who can easily take advantage of you. (ironic) Mark is clearly dangerous, he's half viltrumite and they may not know everything his people are capable of but they know he can cause a lot of havoc. Mark is not only a threat to you but to them as well. He puts them in a state of constant high alert. They're always staring him down, searching for any signs of danger. I'm sure Batman has a fail safe plan all ready to go. They are eager for the moment they can take this mf down. Do you think they have the supers on speed dial just in case? Ugh even uncle Clark is disapproving of this too.

Your sisters try endlessly to have heart to hearts with you because WHAT THE HELL ARE YOU THINKING????? MARK?! They'd rather you date poke-a-dot man or something because why????

Mark isn't a dumbass, he knows they hate him. He also knows just how scared they are of him and it gives him some sort of sick pleasure knowing he could truly have you all to himself if he really wanted to. But there's really no point in that yet, you're wrapped around his fingers. He totally has thought about going back to his planet with you and keeping your pretty self locked up where your family won't ever find you. That'd really stick it to em'

The cocky, manipulation is just oozing off him every time he's around. The way he shoots threatening looks towards your siblings when they try to get your attention or "playfully" insulting them. There's never a moment where his head isn't held high, looking down at your siblings as if they were beneath him...He runs this place when he's over. Which is all the time because Bruce is like okay, if you won't leave him, you have to be supervised.

Can you imagine combined family dinners with Mark's family and yours??? First, there is definitely a fight of who is sitting next to who. I'll say your brothers win this and are sitting on either side while Mark is fuming as he's across from you. The tension is so freaking high. It's rather silent around the table but everyone is looking at each other either like "I'm ready to kill him when you are" or "i'm going to kill you, mark...". I headcanon that even Bruce has beef with Nolan. They clash rather constantly on their differences of how to handle villains. Nolan is a stone cold killer to Bruce, who is rather set in his ways. It's no wonder Mark is his son. You aren't going to be with this kid for long. "So, Bruce? How's things on your side of town? Still letting your boyfriend out of jail so you can keep playing tag?" "The Joker isn't my boyfriend, i'm just not into murder, unlike some "heros" are. I like to set an example for my kids." "Ah, is that why Jason threatened to kill my son at gun point last month?"

You and Debbie are the only ones who like are trying to be civil and are sort of ignorant to everything going on.

"Um, so i made brownies with Mark's mother for everyone! Anyone want a piece?"

"Of course, love. You know your brownies are my favorite, i've been waiting all day."

Your siblings act like savages and eat the entire pan, stuffing it in their mouths so Mark cannot get any. Bruce doesn't do anything to correct his children out of spite.

Bruce is also debating on just handling them right here. He could have Kal-el over in matters of minutes and this could all be over with.

(Okay but Mark and Damien beating each other’s asses???? Damien cannot bite his tongue and Mark is trying to be nice because he’s a kid but he then Damien call him a "little bitch boy" and it pushes him over the edge. Mark just jumps over the table lollllll???? Sad thing is, Damien gets in tons of cuts with the butterknife he was just using for his sweetroll heheh))) "I though you were invincible...guess i was right in calling you a little bi-" "OH YOU'RE DYING TONIGHT"

[almostempty]

self esteem (joel x f!reader)

wc: 2.9k | masterlist | rating: 18+ | read on ao3 |

part 2 ⎯ part 3 ⎯ part 4

summary: Joel blows you off for your date. You end up blowing him when he shows up looking to score. Inspired by the song Self Esteem by The Offspring. 

tags/warnings: kinda mean/fuckboy joel, mild dub con, smut, PWP, oral sex (m receiving), unprotected piv sex, joel comes on your tits, dirty talk, one (1) slap, choose your own joel era, reader is on some dumb bitch juice for this man (i would be too), hit and run, smash and dash,

a/n: PLEASE send any feedback, this is the first thing i’ve ever written and posted, i’m tryn’ to practice and gain confidence bc my dream fic doesn’t exist so i gotta write it, it’s scary to post, y’all are so brave wtf 

It’s purgatory. You’d made plans to go out tonight with Joel. It’s useless to expect him to show up, but you got ready and anxiously paced around your living room anyway. Checking your phone, at thirty minutes past the time he had said he’d pick you up. You sent him a text. His read receipts were on; he saw your message. Another thirty minutes pass agonizingly slowly. He hasn’t responded. You can feel a mild headache forming behind your eyes. 

You grab a drink from your fridge and collapse on the couch with a sigh. A mixture of anger, regret, and rejection churns in your gut. You shouldn’t have set yourself up for disappointment. 

No, he shouldn’t be such an asshole. You’ve got to stick up for yourself. Tell him off for his bullshit. The manipulation, standing you up, the lies. You know he’s using you. 

Unfortunately, you find the toxic rush addictive. The way he charms and seduces you after disappearing or acting like an idiot. You enable his behavior every time. 

And it’s sick that you like it. You like knowing it’s your door he knocks on in the middle of the night. He won’t take you on a date, but he still can’t stay away. 

No. Not this time. You’re done letting him waste your time with plans that never materialize. You’re going to practice all the things you should say. Tell him to fuck off. 

You grab another drink and return to the couch. The rejection is sinking in, and you’re feeling pretty low. You silence notifications from him in an attempt to take control of your thoughts. To stop waiting for it to light up with his name. You aren’t going to keep waiting for him. 

You shower and change into a big T-shirt and underwear. Returning to the couch, you turn on some trash TV to shut your brain off. It helps. Keeps you distracted. When it hits 2 AM, you crawl off the couch and turn out the lights. You hope you’re tired enough to sleep without Joel haunting your thoughts. 

You’re getting a glass of water to take to bed when you hear the knock at your door. Your stomach swoops and your body tenses with excitement. 

You’re fucked. 

You can’t stop the smile that breaks out on your face. 

He’s like a stray cat. Or, more like a tomcat. You know he’s gonna sweet talk his way in. You should ignore him. You should leave him outside on your doorstep, horny and alone. Let him feel rejected this time. 

You crack open the door and face Joel. He glows in the moonlight, stupid eyes sparkling when he looks at you. He leans an arm on the door frame and purrs at you. 

“Baby.”  

You roll your eyes. His breath smells like whiskey. 

“What the fuck, Joel? Where were you?”

He frowns. Big brown eyes try to weaken your defenses. 

“Work thing.” 

“Til 2 AM?” 

“One of the guys on the crew. Was his birthday, so we had to take him out.” 

You don’t believe him. You feel the urge to slap him across his scruffy cheek. You feel the urge to pull him in and kiss him. 

No. You can’t listen to that voice. The voice that still gets butterflies over him showing up at the door. He’s only here because all the bars closed, and now he’s looking to score. 

He preys on your moment of weakness. You’re in a debate with your inner demons, and he barges his way into your space. He moves like a blur. You blink and his rough hand is tracing the line of your jaw. 

He’s caging you in against the back of your door. He leans in closer. Hot breath fanning over your face. Your breath is still caught in your throat. You have half a mind to shove him off of you and begin your lecture, but he gives you no chance. 

He presses urgent kisses and bites along your jawline and down the column of your throat. A vampire at your door. You didn’t invite him in, but he’s got his teeth sinking into your flesh anyway. 

He smells like sweat, sawdust, and some over-scented men’s deodorant. Smells like a man, your lizard brain thinks. 

Trapped between him and the door, the closeness is intoxicating. His body is large and powerful and radiates a frenetic energy. Like he’s buzzing with need for you. You can’t help it; you like feeling wanted like this. Desired. The way he crashes into you like a feral beast—

“Wait.” Some sense flashes into your conscience. 

“Hmm?” he growls in your ear. His face is still buried against your neck while his hands grope at your body. You can feel the heat radiating off of him. His hands move to knead at your breasts through your soft, faded shirt. You fight to ignore the pleasure. 

“Joel.”

“Hmm.”

“You can’t just show up in the middle of the night after bailing on me and expect to get laid.” 

His hands slide under your shirt. The skin-to-skin contact makes you dizzy. He pinches and pulls at your nipples, and you fight back a moan, trying to refocus. 

“Joel!” you snap at him. 

“C’mon, I’m sorry, baby,” he coos into your skin. 

He rocks his hips against you, and the sensation of his hard bulge in his jeans against your soft skin sends a jolt of need through your nervous system. The words you practiced earlier slip further and further from your mind. 

“You can’t keep treating me like this.” You lob at him. The rest of your speech is hazy. You're grasping at sentence fragments, trying to remember the points you wanted to make. 

“Not gonna keep working.”

“Quit,” he replies sharply. 

“What?” 

One of his large hands slides up, still under your shirt, bunching it up, and wraps around your throat. He bites at your chin. Sharp teeth. He kisses your cheek. Soft lips. He nips your earlobe. You gasp. He sucks it into his hot mouth. Your eyes slam shut. 

You feel like you’re at his mercy, and the cavewoman inside of you just wants him to drag you to bed. 

“Quit arguing,” he grumbles. His deep voice in your ear sends a rush of arousal down your spine. 

“It’s not fair,” you protest. 

He shifts. His hands travel downward to squeeze at the plush skin of your ass. He tugs you forward and shoves his knee between your legs. You lose any train of thought. Cruel man. You don’t care anymore. You’ll let him keep tearing pieces out of your heart. As long as you can keep using each other's bodies. 

The pressure and friction of his thigh against your tingling pussy is the ultimate betrayal. You can’t stop the whiny gasps that come out of your mouth at the contact. 

He lets out a satisfied chuckle at that. Cocky bastard. 

“Not fair,” he repeats after you. “Hmm. Tell that to your wet cunt dripping on my leg, baby.” 

Your core flutters at his words. You feel your face flush, but it’s hard to argue with him. 

“I think you want me,” he continues. 

You try to glare at him. Your hips don’t care, though, as they roll against him. 

“S’alright, baby.”

You wish it were. 

“I only want you.” 

You desperately want to believe him. You shove that thought out of your mind. 

He pulls your shirt off and rakes his eyes down your body. He’s menacing. His broad shoulders and tense muscles loom over you. He’s fully clothed while you’re bare except for your wet panties clinging to your folds. 

Your chest heaves as you watch him. He has a carnivorous gaze. You’re prey with your soft body exposed; he’s a hungry predator waiting to make a lethal move. 

But he doesn’t strike. 

He moves painfully slowly. Tracing a finger down over your lips, down your chest, and belly, to the hem of your underwear. He slips the tip of his finger underneath and skates it across your skin from left to right. 

“Fuck,” you breathe, tense and twitching at the sensations. It’s too delicate. His expression looks like he wants to eat you whole, but his movement is restrained. 

“Know you do.” his voice washes over you, and a slight hum echoes in your throat. 

“You want me.” he husks. 

He pushes you back off his thigh. His hand dives further into your panties, and he drags his fingers through the pool of your arousal and spreads it through your folds. A smile breaks out on his face. 

“Yes,” you exhale as your body shudders. 

A look flashes across his features, and his eyes darken with lust. You peer down to watch his hand disappear in your underwear. 

“Say it.” He demands. 

“What?” Your eyes flick up to his. 

“Say it.” He repeats firmly. 

You writhe a little as he continues to toy with you. He’s wicked. Tracing circles around your clit, but not long enough to build a satisfying rhythm before he dips down and fills you with two fingers. He moves them lazily for his own enjoyment. 

You groan in frustration. It’s a tempting sound to his ears, but he doesn’t look amused. He’s waiting to hear it. 

“I want you?” you guess what he’s waiting for you to say. 

There's no use lying about it if that’s what he wants to hear. You want him. Even if you’ve been ruminating over his shitty behavior all night. 

“You askin’ or tellin’?” 

“Want you,” you repeat as a statement. 

He pulls his hand away completely. Your body jerks, chasing his touch. 

“Please,” you try. 

“Again.” he’s gruff. Ferocious as he demands you confess your desire. 

You sigh. Maybe for giving up so quickly or maybe because you always knew you would. 

“I want you.” 

He doesn’t relax. Or move. 

“Again.” He repeats like he’s a malfunctioning robot. 

“I want you, Joel.” 

“Again.”

“Please, Joel, I want you.” 

The hint of a smirk appears on his face. 

He taps your chin, encouraging you to part your lips. He slides his wet fingers in your mouth, along your tongue, and then removes them. He holds your open mouth, fingers around your jaw, and looks as if he’s assessing the quality of your tongue. 

“Prove it.” He commands. 

His tone does something to your brain.

Tomorrow, you might be confused at how he blew you off, but you ended up on your knees blowing him. But right now, you’re chasing a desperate need.

He steps back to give you space. You drop to your knees as he undoes his belt. Your eager hands work his jeans and boxers down far enough to expose his leaking cock. 

If you looked, you might’ve caught his condescending smirk, now fully exposed. 

You don’t look. You don’t wait for further instructions. You lap at his tip and tease with your tongue. You start working him into your mouth. 

The weight of his cock on your tongue causes you to moan. The vibrations cause him to moan right back. 

His arm shoots out to the door behind you for support. His head hangs, watching you move. 

“Fuck,” he groans at the sight of your lips wrapped around him. His clipped grunts and the way his core flexes encourage you. Your soft hand works in tandem with your mouth, and you’re drooling openly. You coat him in saliva. Messy. Your lips are swollen. 

When he breaches your throat, you slow down to focus on your breathing and swallowing. Little gags contract around the head of his cock as you focus on relaxing. 

“Fuck. Yeah, baby, show me you want it,” he rambles above you. 

You keep going and take him deep until your jaw aches and your pussy throbs. Hearing him react and spew filth at you stokes the fire in your core. 

“Knew your cock hungry mouth was waiting for me,” he slurs. 

A flash of embarrassment courses through you at that statement. 

You did wait for him. You should’ve said no. But it’s so hard when he shows up ready to go. You may be dumb for tolerating his actions, but you’re not going to turn down a man that looks like him and fucks like he does.  

“Eyes up,” he orders. 

You whine around him, looking up through your lashes. Obedient. With your eyes locked on each other, something passes briefly between you. Easy to miss, hard to describe. Like you could look at each other like that forever. Then it’s gone. 

He slides out of your mouth. Ogling the pornographic way spit trails between his tip and your tongue. The way your lashes are wet from trying to blink away the tears of exertion. 

“I did wait, Joel. Waited for you all night,” your voice comes out a little hoarse. You can’t be bothered if it sounds desperate. 

“‘Course you did,” he smiles and cradles your cheek in his palm. “Get up.” 

You don’t argue. He helps to pull you up, spins you around, and walks you the few steps over to your couch. He bends you over the armrest. You’re burning with need. 

He takes his time pulling your panties off. The way he has you presented for him makes you impatient. 

“Joel,” you whine his name in protest. 

“Quit.” He slaps your ass to make his point. 

You huff, but when both of his large palms spread your cheeks wider for his own enjoyment, another needy whine slips out of your throat. 

He chuckles darkly at you. 

“I’ll give you what you need,” he assures you before he sinks into your desperately empty hole. 

You groan in unison as he fills you. 

“So deep,” you murmur. He fits like he was made for you. Fills you up, so you can’t think of anything else. Can’t think of what you wanted to say or how you felt watching the time pass while you waited for him to show up earlier. 

“Always,” he agrees. 

He picks up a bruising pace. On edge for so long, you might go blind with the force of your building climax. 

He grasps your hair at the base of your skull and pulls, further arching your back and ripping another moan from deep in your chest. The sensations are overwhelming, and your mind feels blank. The sounds of his hips slapping into you and your combined panting, grunting, and babbling turn to white noise. The consistent drive of his cock against the perfect spot inside of you has you hurtling to the edge. 

“Yeah, baby, I know what you want,” he croons. Your breasts bounce with every thrust, and his other hand wraps around you to squeeze at them tightly. He remains steady and brutal with his movements. He does know what you want. And he keeps giving it to you. 

“Please, yes, don’t stop,” you beg. 

You wriggle one hand down to touch yourself. The pressure from your fingers around your clit brings you over the edge. You clench around him and gasp as you come.

“Yeah, that’s it. You come on this cock,” he rasps behind you as he works you through it. 

You feel the release melt your muscles, causing you to slump forward. 

“Oh, fuck,” he breathes, and you know he’s trying to hold on as he pulls out and pants heavily. 

“Turn around for me,” he demands, stepping back. “On your knees.” 

You obey and turn to kneel in front of him. He looks wrecked, his eyes half-lidded and his mouth hanging open. His fist wrapped around his cock, still glistening from your release. 

It’s a debauched scene. He’s still fully dressed, only as exposed as necessary. He charges towards his climax with frantic force. You pose for him eagerly despite your boneless, damp form. 

He looks so primal it makes you lightheaded. You bite your lip to stop yourself from letting a giggle out. Your face shines with a sated glow.

You tilt your head up and squeeze your tits together for him. 

“Fuck, fuck,” he rasps out like it’s the only word he knows at this point. Your glossy, swollen lips pout up at him. Like, you need him to finish for you. That sends him. He comes across your chest as you release your hands, dropping your breasts with a little bounce.. 

He stares at you as his breathing slows. His warm spend is rapidly cooling against your skin. You still have a glowy, dreamy look on your face. Content.

“You look so good like that,” he praises you. A flush creeps up your chest and neck. 

You stand up and grab your forgotten water from the coffee table. He tucks himself back into his jeans and fastens his belt. 

“You gonna buy me breakfast to make up for bailing?” you float the idea with a joking tone, but there’s hope behind it. 

“Sorry, baby, got a job early in the morning.” 

“Right,” you snarl at him as he leans in to kiss you. 

“How about dinner after?” he suggests and fishes for his keys in his pocket. 

“Okay, yeah, what time?” You ask. 

“Not sure when I’ll be done.” He’s not looking at you. “I’ll text you.” 

He turns, slips out the door, and then he’s gone. 

You’re still standing there, naked and dumbfounded, with his drying come across your tits as he drives away. 

You groan and curse at yourself. He’s not going to text you tomorrow. 

You should stick up for yourself. But he did say he wants only you. And the more you suffer, the more it shows you really care, right? 

-> NEXT

[minteagalaxea]

hot . line (p. one) | jy.u

jey uso . part one

genre: smut (minors dni) content warnings: phone sex . (unknown) mutual masturbation . daddy kink . afab reader (she/her pronouns) . dirty talk . sexposition (ish) word count: 2.29k inspiration: the concept of a glucose guardian/sucrose supplier . the accountants in the john wick series . the notion of parasocial relationships . songs: good to me by seventeen (slowed and reverb) (x) . light a flame by seventeen (slowed and reverb) (x) note: thank you to @lov3rla03 and @spiicii for endorsing my brand of nonsense. dialogue isn't generally my strong suit, but i wanted to try something new!

oh, she hated this. she really hated that she was resorting to this of all things.

her fingers clutched the business card lex gave her, a black card with dark red foiling to mark the name of the organization and the phone number. it felt like a death knell as she lied in her room, screwing her eyes shut one she dialed the number and she heard the line pick up, honestly anticipating a robotic voice on the end, or some type of attempt at sultriness.

yet, the voice, a low contralto hum, was soothing on the other end as they greeted, “welcome to the bloodline. how may i direct your call?”

she wasn’t sure how to answer, and her silence only served to embarrass her further as she stammered and rambled, “i-i’m sorry…this is my first time, and i just…my friend gave me the card, and i don’t know if this is a good id—”

the voice on the other end offered a soothing laugh to carefully interrupt her. “it’s alright, my dear. i should have asked first. would you like to know how this works? my name is quynh.”

her stomach felt less heavy, knowing she was at least speaking to a real person, and she mused an assent.

“initially, the gentlemen prefer phone interactions, just to have a feel for you and for the sake of discretion. they aren’t recorded or monitored. you’re certainly allowed to choose when you’d like, as many of our clients do, so please don’t feel pressured to stick to one if that goes against your preferences. later on, if you’d like in-person interactions, those can be arranged, but they generally reserve that for more routine clients. there’s no hard and fast rule as to how many phone conversations are required, that’s between you and him. we charge by session, and tips are not necessary, but certainly appreciated—i hope that’s alright.”

she blinked, hearing the basic ground rules, and she found herself questioning why she was thinking that this was going to be some casual hotline-escort service, given the hefty price tag that suggested a luxury clientele. though, she considered, money wasn’t hard to come by for her in her line of work. and lex provided glowing reviews, so she supposed that it couldn’t.

“umm…which gentlemen am i allowed to choose from?” she inquired with trepidation, and easily as ever, quynh answered.

“there’s roman: big dom kind of man, baritone-bass voice. unfortunately, he isn’t accepting new clients, but he’s here if you need to discuss any issues or concerns regarding the others regarding safety or consent,” they started, tone carrying an undertone of secrecy and intimacy that had the woman curious, but unwilling to prod the stranger more about this.

“then, there’s solo: stoic, but certainly intense. a preference for those wanting to indulge more…rough fantasies. bondage is a big thing of his.” she shivered, and quynh laughed soothingly, as if sensing her discomfort, “don’t worry, bun. he has his own niche, and i wouldn’t recommend him for you since you don’t seem like the rough kinda girl. we want to provide a positive experience for all of our clients, but especially our new ones.”

the woman sighed in relief, continuing her relative silence as quynh exhausted their voice just to provide her knowledge and comfort, “perhaps on the complete opposite end of the spectrum, we have sami. sweet, a bit shy, kind of a switch, can be a bit more submissive—or at least, lean towards it, though i like to equate him to a service top. gives very nice praise, too, and has an excitable charm. cheerful, and expressive even through the phone.” there was a fondness there, and she answered.

“maybe…not too soft?”

“well, i think the last of our two gentlemen might be up your alley,” the receptionist mused with a fond chortle, “jimmy and jey.”

just hearing their names had a wave of comfort washing over her, like a hug delivered by this person on the other line.

“jimmy’s the more adventurous one, with ideas as creative as his degrading. not quite as mean as solo can be, but he’s up there. the bad boy twin, if i had to term him. he’s got some cute pet names, so it tends to even out.

“but, i’d recommend you to jey—tends to be better with first-timers. he’s not like sami in that he’s all sweet…but if it helps, he does like calling his female subjects things like ‘mami’. he’s got a big flirtatious streak; big praise thing with him, too.”

that was all it took for her to settle on him with an assertive tone, though really, she had a suspicion that quynh was saving jey for last, and after a few rings on the line, there was a new voice on the other end of the line.

“how’re you doing, mamas?”

fuck. one greeting and she was already wet, and she already had to scamper to grab her vibrator from the drawer in her nightstand in the most feeble stride at composure, all her confidence flying entirely out of the proverbial window.

the attempt, however, was generally fruitless with her stammering, “h-hi…i’m uh, not sure h-how…to start all of this.”

she earned a chuckle on the line, sounding endeared by her green nature to this entire thing as he answered, “that’s alright, mami. we can take it nice and slow, work you up real nice. why don’t you tell me a bit about you, baby?”

“wh-what do you wanna know?”

“maybe what got a sweet little thing like you out here on a phone with a man like me?”

her breath hitched, and she wasn’t sure what to say as she admitted, “i work a high-profile job…and i think i need someone to help me get the edge off. maybe i’m too pent up? work has been so busy.”

“yeah, mamas? need me to help you cum and sleep well tonight?”

shit, just the suggestion of that, the lick of his voice was already making her lose her mind, but she assented as she surreptitiously turned on the bullet, “y-yes, please.”

the man on the other end chuckled, “well, aren’t you a good girl for me, baby, using all your manners? gonna give you a reward if you behave like that for me."

ut, his voice took a sharper, biting edge subsequently. “or perhaps not, because i didn’t say you could touch yourself, did i?”

a chill ran down her spine, gasping as she realized that he did manage to hear the buzz of her very discreet, reportedly near silent vibrator. “i’m sorry, daddy…just wanted to take the edge off.” and holy shit, she didn’t expect herself to call him that.

“well, mamas, you better behave, or daddy won’t let you do any of those things.” his voice was teasing, but she hadn’t realized that calling him “daddy” would make his breath hitch in the way that elevated her reality that he’s just as turned on as her, no matter how fictitious it was from. perhaps it was that that made her more comfortable to play along, his voice and reactions spurring her on to indulge her fantasies a bit.

“i’m sorry, daddy. i promise i’ll behave now.”

“that’s right, mami. now, why don’t you tell me what you’re wearing?”

she wasn’t sure how to broach this one, but she tried her best as she spread her legs and reclined into her satin pillows, “nothing…just a big sweater, that’s all.”

that boded positively for her, she presumed, given the groan jey elicited as she heard a rustle of fabric on his end, “nothing underneath? naughty girl.

“but, i can’t blame you, mamas. you sound so stressed…no wonder you need your toy. so stressed your fingers won’t do it for you, huh? needa think about something bigger than your pretty little fingers?” he continued, just slightly more conversational with that heady undertone.

“yeah, daddy. wanna think about your fingers if i’m so lucky,” she admitted bashfully, surprising herself with her boldness as she got more comfortable. quynh was right—she would end up liking him.

jey’s choked groan on the other line brought prickles along her every nerve as he chuckled in approval in an attempt to regain some semblance of composure, “shit, mami, you can. you can put that vibrator and think about how daddy's fingers should be in your pretty cunt instead of some toy.”

she obeyed—how could she not when he sounded like sin and virtue in equal measure, and she pressed the bullet on her clit, letting it whir there as she tried to pay him some attention, too, as she settled into the rhythm of their dialogue. “are you thinking about me, daddy, about what i could do for you right now?”

“fuck, of course i am, mamas. thinking about the pretty words coming out of your prettier mouth.” there was a certain cadence there; she wasn’t sure how much of it was authentically him, given the line of work, but she wouldn’t push as she plunged the bullet inside of her.

jey’s groans and growls and the shifting on the line had her curiosity growing about if he was actually stroking herself as they both enabled each other’s pleasure, stoked the heat in their bodies. “daddy, wish it was your fingers right now,” she crooned in between her gasps of bliss, dragging her vibrator to a higher intensity, “i know it’d feel so much better.”

“shit, babygirl, keep talking like that, and i’m gonna wish it was your mouth on my dick instead with how sweet you’re being to me.”

“oh, daddy, i’d take care of you so well.” her voice began veering into a sense of dreaminess, loosened as she plunged her toy in and out of her depths to seek some relief, “won’t you let me help you? promise i’d take you all the way down and won’t gag.”

“i’m gonna hold you to that, mami. you’d look like a fucking masterpiece with your mouth full of dick. or with that pussy full of my dick, too,” he grunted, breathing labored over the phone as something rocked, perhaps the bed, perhaps an audio recording. she couldn’t care right now, determined to chase after that elusive release, “turn that shit up, baby, and fuck yourself faster.”

her moans filled the line as she did exactly as jey requested, pushing her damn bullet to the limits in ways she had never pushed it to the maximum setting. yet, here she was, her sounds louder and reverberating through the phone and overpowering the whir of the toy’s motor.

“fuck, daddy, wish it was your fingers—wish you could stretch me out all nice and wide and pretty for you,” she mewled, thrusting her vibrator in and envisioning it was a pair of thicker, more human digits instead, “my fingers won’t cut it. need you.”

jey’s grunting reached a fever pitch as he elicited a groan, something long and hypnotic as he said, “i know you need me, mamas. touch your clit, i’m gonna get you there.” she heard the frenetic rustle of the sheets on his line, haphazard like the bounce of his mattress while her free hand circled her neglected, now extremely sensitive pearl.

her voice took on a pleading, sultry tone as she begged in her wake, “daddy, come for me, you know you want to. you’d feel so good, so much better.” or, at least, it would assuage her ego assuming he was jerking off. she indulged the fantasy.

“i know, mamas. want you to come with me, can you manage that?’

she could, partially because holy fucking shit did he sound somehow even sexier. the fact that he asked dragged her to the edge with just a single question had her seeing stars, her moans nearly drowning out what she could hear on his end as his own sounds—a cacophony of grunts, groans and gravelly filth—prolonged that monstrous high that she had her still rubbing her clit and drenching her sheets for. she could only hope he was in a similar predicament.

in the moments of respite, to recompose, she heard jey’s breathless, effusive voice inquire, “how was that for your first time doing this, mamas?”

her laugh emerged choked, mind almost reeling from the gravel of dominance earlier to his current ease, “good. better than expected, actually. i, umm, hope you enjoyed it, too.”

“i definitely did, mami, don’t you worry.”

“and…” she started, deciding to impulsively blurt it outright before she lost her nerve, “could i…could we possibly do this again? this was…really nice, and i didn’t know i needed it.”

his warm, hearty chuckle was enough to balm her nerves, her worries. she wasn’t even sure why she was worried. technically, she was paying for his time—there weren’t meant to be strings. “of course. i’ll let quynh know for ya. let you get some rest.”

her own heart warmed at the consideration, and she swiped to send him the payment, with an exceedingly generous tip that significantly amplified the already-exorbitant (yet, justified) charge; she could only envision the look on his face, seeing the slightly cheeky note she added: for making me cum so hard, daddy ♡ - mami.

jey’s laugh sounded like heaven and hell, all incredulous and mirthful as he said, “same time next week, mamas?”

her lips wrapped around her chosen farewell like a promise as she responded, “looking forward to it, daddy.” and the call ended.

as far as she was concerned, he didn’t make a mess of his bed like her, a consummate professional through and through.

and if he did? well…that was his secret, not hers.

[reiderwriter]

Hii! Could you write a Spencer x fem reader, she's extremely confident & forward and Spencer gets all flustered, shy and overwhelmed at how forward she is with flirting with him and complimenting him (even tho he loves it), thank you:-)

A/N: This was such a cute request, thanks for sending it in! I love shy and oblivious Spencer he's so silly and cute ㅠㅠ

Pairing: Spencer Reid x Female Reader

Genre: pure fluff

Word Count: 2k

Summary: Spencer Reid is a genius. But if he hasn't noticed you've been flirting with his for a week straight, he must be an idiot. Non-BAU!Reader.

Warnings: Alcohol intake. Kissing. Slightly suggestive ending.

Here's my masterlist, requests are open! 🎉

Working with the FBI as a consultant on a case was practically a dream come true for you, but what was even more dreamy was the man you got to work with whilst consulting. You’d arrived bright and early, really eager to help with the case you’d been called in for. On the phone, Unit Chief Aaron Hotchner had asked for your help decoding some documents that the team thought had something to do with the Literature you were teaching as part of your course at a local university.

In all honesty, you were a massive fan of detective novels, an early love for Agatha Christie and the Golden Age of mystery making you entertain an idea in law enforcement before you decided that really wasn’t for you, so you were eager to help out in anyway you could fathom.

“One of our Special Agents, Doctor Reid, has decoded most of it, but he says there are some key areas he may be missing and he wants to pick your brains, to see if you can help him come up with something,” he said, guiding you into a small sideroom.

Having previously heard that Doctor Spencer Reid had achieved no less than three PhDs and three additional Bachelor's Degrees in varying subjects, you weren’t quite sure to expect when walking into the room. You certainly weren’t expecting one of the prettiest men you’d ever seen in your life to be sat reading through a pretty thick tome at an incredible speed.

“Reid, this is Professor Y/L/N, she’s here to help you decode the cypher. Professor, this is Doctor Spencer Reid.” Hotchner introduced you, but as soon as you picked your jaw up off the floor, you instantly stepped forward.

“Please, call me Y/N. It’s an absolute pleasure to meet you… Spencer was it?” You smile and stick out your hand. You notice the flush on the man's face and your grin grows even wider as he hesitates to take your hand.

“I’m sorry, I don’t really shake hands, the number of pathogens passed during a handshake is staggering. It's actually safer to kiss.” He stutters through the words, almost struggling to get them out, but you don’t falter for a second.

“Kiss me then,” you say smirking up at him and you realise that the other agent had since left the room, leaving you alone with the object of your affections. Ignoring your response, but face tinged such a bright shade of red that you knew he was effected by it, he dives into the facts of the case.

“We think that he’s using some kind of cypher based on some books you’ve been researching recently at the University, which means we think he could possibly be a student of yours. I read through your PhD thesis this morning, and there are certain commonalities that suggest you could be the key to solving some of our unknowns.”

“You read my thesis? What did you think of it?” you ask, moving to sit in the chair directly next to him, scooting it a little bit closer than was polite.

“I don’t have a degree in Literature of the Renaissance Period, so I’m not sure how much value my opinion really holds in this scenario,” he looks at you and you’re pleasantly surprised at how genuine he’s being.

“Well, you’ve seen mine, can I see yours?” you allow the cogs in his brain to keep turning for a few seconds then continue. “I’m sure with three PhDs to your name, you’ve probably got a few research papers floating about, right?”

“Oh….” he blushes again, turning his eyes away from you and doing his best not to make eye contact. “I’m sure I could send them to you after we’ve completed this case if you think they would allow you a deeper insight into any of my fields of study.” He coughs a little to hide the way his voice pitched up as he spoke and kept his eyes trained on the book in his hands.

This consulting role was going to be the most fun you’d had in weeks.

–X–

A week later, you found yourself sat at a bar, surrounded by the members of the BAU team celebrating another case closed, but you couldn’t find it in yourself to fully partake in their merryments exactly. You’d assumed, after an entire week of flirting very openly with Reid, that when he’d asked you to the bar that evening to celebrate wrapping up the case, he’d meant just the two of you. Alas, you had discovered over the week that not only was he the most adorable man you’d ever met, he was also the most oblivious. Impressive for a man with an IQ of 187.

You couldn’t complain too much. Your help on the case had meant the rescue of two young girls, two of your students in undergrad courses nonetheless, so you’d at least made a difference. You had nothing against the rest of the team either, having become fast friends with Garcia, and enjoying your twenty minutes of small ltalk in the morning at the coffee station with Prentiss, Morgan and JJ as well. Hell, you even loved Rossi, who gave off the fun Uncle vibe that you found rounded out the team well. But you couldn’t curb your disappointment still, so you distanced yourself from the table a bit and removed yourself to the bar to grab yourself a new drink. You stayed there for a few minutes to nurse it.

“Hello, beautiful,” the man sat at the barstool next to you leered down at you, “you looking for some company in the bottom of that glass tonight?” He winked at you and your skin crawled. It wasn’t just his creepy smile, and the disgusting way he dragged his eyes over your body, it was that he was also very likely older than your own father. Some people were into that, but you certainly weren’t

“Not today, thanks,” you said, hoping that would be enough to get him to leave you in peace, but of course it wasn’t.

“Hot piece of ass like you, you need a real man to take care of you.” He pushed his hand out and for a split second you were convinced he was going to make an attempt to smack your ass. Before he was able to make contact, and, perhaps more importantly, before you could be arrested for aggravated assault, a hand was wrapping around your hip and pulling you away from the man, your back colliding with a firm chest behind you.

“Y/N, Special Agent Hotchner is about to leave and he wanted to thank you for coming to consult for us. The FBI is always really grateful for conscientious citizens like you willing to help us keep the streets safe.” Spencer turned you around and said, emphasising words to make it clear what his job was, speaking loudly enough that you knew the words were only for the creep behind you who’d thought to lay a hand on you.

“Thanks, Spencer,” you said as the man downed the rest of his drink and made to leave the bar, obviously embarrassed and threatened by Spencer’s arrival. He made to loosen his grip on you as the man left, but you through your arms around his neck, not letting him leave. If this was your last opportunity to make him realise what you wanted, you absolutely weren’t going to let it get away from you.

“I wanted to thank you for this week as well, Spencer. Hotch said it was you that recommended me for the consulting role.” He blushed and stood there a little awkwardly, but made no move to leave, his hands unmoving from your hips. It reminded you of your middle school prom, in all honesty.

“Oh that’s no big deal. It worked out pretty well in the end, though, right, with your students and everything.” You nodded and thanked him again, but you were still pretty reluctant to see him walk away, back to the table filled with his closest friends and colleagues.

“So, are you looking forward to going back home? I’m sure your boyfriend or husband or whatever will be really glad to see you again.” He mumbled and you felt your heart stop for a second.

“Spencer, I don’t have a boyfriend. Or a husband, or any kind of partner for that matter. I’m sorry if I made you think I do,” you saw his eyes widen in panic a little, and you relaxed a bit yourself as he started to talk again.

“Oh, I’m sorry, I just assumed that someone as pretty as you couldn’t be single.” He stuttered every single word out, and you didn’t quite register his words for a second.

“You think I’m pretty?” you ask looking up at him and he gapes down at you, realising this conversation is just him shooting himself in the foot over and over again.

“Shit… what I mean is…Y/N you have to know you’re gorgeous, right?” It was your turn to blush then, feeling the sincerity in his words.

“You know, I thought you were asking me out on a date tonight.” You tell him, watching his entire face crumple again in distress.

“But I told you we were going out to celebrate finishing the case!” He spoke in his defence.

“Spencer, what were your exact words?”

“Y/N, do you want to grab a drink tonight? It would be nice to celebrate now that the case is closed and- oh. OH.” The realisation dawned on his face, and you enjoyed the little look of devastation that played out there as his blush deepened.

“It’s fine, Spencer, really. If you’re not interested in me, you’re not interested, I get it.” You sighed, finally moving to let him go, resigned to your fate now.

“Wait, Y/N, that’s not what I meant!” He grabbed you by the hand gently, not quite as close as you were the moment before but still standing notably close. You realised you probably had an audience for this.

“I didn’t realise that you’d want to go on a date with me, you’re so beautiful and smart, I just never thought you’d be interested.” Your brain almost exploded with that, and you had to make a conscious effort to not have your jaw drop to the floor, but apparently the man wasn’t finished. “I just assumed you had a flirty personality, and like, really look at you and then look at me-” you absolutely had to cut him off before he said anything else, so you did.

Crashing your lips up into his was the most sensible thing you’d done since stepping into the bar that evening. He was statuesque at first, unmoving while your lips pressed against him, but he warmed up to it and began kissing you back with equal fervor. You moved the hands that were holding yours to your waist, then moved your own hands up to tangle in his hair, playing with a few curls at the base of his neck.

After a few minutes, you finally pulled away to see a dumbstruck expression on his face.

“Oh. Oh, I see now,” was all he could get out, unable to form more words as he panted into the space between you,

“Yeah? That’s good. I’ve been flirting with you all week, so it’s nice of you to finally notice.” You giggle up at him slowly, and he tightens his grip on your waist.

“What should….what should I do now?” He asked, obviously a little bit unsure of himself, and happy to let you take the lead.

“Well, you can either take me back to your place now, or you could start with asking me out on that date?” He looked like he was seriously weighing up his options for a minute, before he looked you in the eye again.

“Can I do both?”

--X--

🏷️ @w-windyy @multifandom-on-the-side @reidandhotchsgirl @babybluecakes @bluecandycake @hugyourlungs @prentissesredtanktop @reidscaffeine @bethanyhaas01 @average-sunflower @lover-of-books-and-tea @star0055 @daddy-dotcom @zaapsite @anniewhalelover @abbyshmaby @isabel-ffl-xoxo @sujan39 @frxcless @bluestuesday @busy-buzzing @breadbrobin @maxinehufflepuffprincess @l0v3cam @booksandwonderlands @myescapefromthislife @kat453 @ferrjulie @scoobydoopoo @aelinismyqueen @littlesingingbean @xohoneybun @anchovy89freya @dysphoricsanity @alyssaxstan @ghostheartbeat @beguiling3lavender @Casss2111 @zatannas-wand @rebloggiest-reblogger @kspencer34

[sleep-0-deprived]

Bloody desires

Vampire Nanami Kento x male reader

Tw breeding ,biting, blood kink, blood drinking, blood play,sub/dom dynamics, bottom male reader, slight overstimulation, s/m, slight feminization at the end, pet names such as baby boy/pretty boy/ my boy

Female aligned and minors dni 18+ content below

You were running through the forest, you knew something was after you and you knew it couldn’t be human especially the way you felt their eyes look at you like you were their next meal.

You were lost in a train of though as you ran so much so you tripped over a root and ran into a very old willow tree “you can’t outrun me especially when I can smell your sweet blood” the tall stranger said irking closer to you “what are you!?” You said in a gasp as the inhuman man picked you up by the neck “I’m a vampire but you can call me Nanami”

Nanami soon pushed you up against the willow tree and bit down into your neck, you soon let out a groan of pain but feeling yourself get hard you try to cover your legs and hide your growing erection. You soon feel Nanami free hand slide between your legs and pry them open “such a slut aren’t you? You don’t even know me and you already hard” the vampire spat as he pulled away from your crimson covered neck with your blood all over his mouth “I’m not a slut” you groaned out

Before you knew it Nanami forced his lip onto yours not that you didn’t want it, soon the taste of warm iron filled your mouth as his long tongue went down your throat. Nanami released his hands to travel up your stomach and too your nipples “hah~” you groaned out in shock of the new sensation, your mind felt fuzzy from loss of blood and all you could think about was his touch “i mneed more Na nami~” you beg as you grind your hips into his in desperation for any friction “patience is a virtue baby boy just wait” Nanami whispered as he pulled away from your mouth

Nanami pulled your hoodie from over your head while letting his mouth travel down your body leaving small bloody bite marks but soon licking all blood away “mor mneed moree~” you moaned out arching your naked back into the tree while feeling the cold moon shine on your bare bloody chest “fuck your so pretty~” Nanami groaned while tugging on your pants, soon he pulls them down and lets them fall to your ankle

Nanami takes your dick into his mouth, the feeling of Nanami’s fangs grazing your dick makes your head feel floaty and warm inside “ please nami~” you groaned out while bucking your hips forward and pressing you back against the rough bark of the tree, Nanami doesn’t say anything but instead digs his long claws into your thigh soon drawing blood “oh fuck fuck I’m gonna cu~”

You were soon cut off by your thick white ropes of cum shooting into Nanami’s mouth and going down his throat “every part of you taste so sweet pretty boy” Nanami grunted as he let his mouth travel down to your bloody and clawed up thighs “feels soo fuckn good~” you let out a loud moan as Nanami licks the blood off your thighs and soon makes more marks by bitting your thighs and gripping your hips tight, soon drawing beefs of blood to the surface “fuck your so intoxicating y/n”

Nanami soon stands up and starts taking his shirt and slacks off leaving him in nothing but boxer briefs, you can’t help but to stare at the vampire in front of you in all his pale glory, you stare at his chest and his muscles they are much bigger than yours, you slowly let your eyes wonder lower and stare at the very obvious bulge in his boxers “stop starin and turn around~” Nanami said with a groan

You turn around your hands on the tree and your ass sticking out, Nanami soon puts some of his bloody red spit on his fingers and prod into your hole, scissoring in and out soon stretching the tight ring of muscles “deeper nami~please fuuck~” you moaned but soon followed a loud slap “watch your mouth baby boy or I will have to punish you” Nanami said as he slapped your ass and also adding another finger to your hole

“That should be enough prepping” Nanami said while standing up and pulling down his boxers he soon aligns the tip of his dick with your twitching hole “ ah it hurts ngh~” you scream in pain as he shoves all 10 inches in “fuck you got this baby your taking me so well~” Nanami praises as he roughly grips your hips and pulls them into his

“Right ther~” you inaudibly scream feeling Nanami’s heavy dick sit on your prostate, soon Nanami starts thrusting in and out of your hole while harshly gripping your already bruised hips “good boy~” Nanami grunts as he slams into your prostate and presses you harshly against his hips letting his dick hit deep inside your gummy walls

You look down at your stomach and see a large bulge sticking out “see how deep I am boy?” Nanami leans down and whispered in your ear while pressing down on the bulge in you stomach “yes yes I do fuck~ harderr~ “ you moan feeling your eyes roll back as Nanami bites into the untainted side of you neck, letting your dark crimson blood drip down your chest

Soon Nanami’s hand moves from the bulge on your stomach and lowers down to your dick, his hand dwarfing it in size and he strokes is teasingly slow “faster please please please nami~” you scream out as you feel Nanami nail your prostate head on pounding your hole while stroking your dick “fuck so good for me baby boy~” Nanami groans as he licks away the blood on your neck, only leave a deep bite mark behind

“I’m so fucking close nami please~” you beg while gripping the willow tree as you feel your second orgasm approach “hold on a little longer baby” Nanami says as he picks his pace up, fucking you like there is no tomorrow, you swear you can see stars with the way he is fucking you

“Im cu cumming~” you scream while your eyes roll into the back of your head and thick ropes of cum shoot out of your swollen cock “me too baby boy, hold on” Nanami groans as give it his final thrusts and he shoot his cum right on your prostate “I’m going to breed your ass until you get pregnant baby” Nanami grunts as he shoves the cum back in your ass with the tip of his dick “fuck that was good Nanami” you pant out while coming down from you high “oh sweet boy we aren’t even don yet” Nanami coos showing his fangs.

[paris-in-space]

Saw a post by @toldasor about what if there was a dating sim where you play as Lucy, and that gave me a desperate urge to draw the Suitor Squad™️ as dating sim characters. I had way too much fun drawing these

[scary-grace]

one way to live (not recommended) - a shigaraki x f!reader oneshot

Tomura doesn't spend a lot of time thinking about his one and only ex-girlfriend, but winter always brings back the memories a little more strongly. When he runs into you again, ten years after the breakup he instigated, he's not opposed to seeing where things go. After all, he hasn't changed much -- but you have.

This fic is for @deadhands69, who prompted me with #8 from this list: but me I'm not a gamble/you can count on me to split. I went a little into the weeds on this one, so if it's not your speed, please let me know and I'll write you a new one for this prompt (or you can pick another!) I apologize for the wait. Modern AU, no quirks, 4k words, angst.

Tomura wakes up facedown on his keyboard to the sound of ping after ping going off through his speakers. For a second all he can think about is how much his neck hurts, so much that he might actually message Magne for the name of that chiropractor she keeps going on about. Then he remembers what he was doing before he fell asleep and sits up in a hurry. “Fuck!”

He was streaming. He was streaming, with hundreds of people watching, and he fucking fell asleep in the middle of it. Tomura thinks about apologizing for a split second, but given the number of pings still going off as he sits up and blinks sleep out of his eyes, the chat isn’t exactly mad about it. Tomura looks a little closer.

MD_DEVICE self-care livestream whennnnnn

my man’s avatar has been doing the funky chicken for three hours and I can’t look away

f in the chat if you think he looks cute when he’s sleeping

bro go to bed

seriously go to bed

sleeeeeeep

i will pay you to log off and go to bed

whose name were you saying just now

The longer Tomura spends reading through the messages, the worse it gets. Three hours? People were debating whether he looked cute? He doesn’t see a single F in the chat, but somebody’s sent him money to log off and go to bed. Multiple people have sent him money to do that, like he’s an e-girl who has to catch up on her skincare routine or some shit. But as annoying as that is, the last question in the line-up is worse. “I wasn’t saying anybody’s name. I don’t talk in my sleep.”

bold words for a guy who’s been dead to the world for the last few hours

Tomura knows that username. “Dabi, get the fuck off my stream.”

lol no

whose name were you saying again?

Now that Tomura looks, Dabi’s username isn’t the only one he recognizes. He sees Twice’s username, and Dabi’s, and Toga’s. Tomura’s mod is supposed to kick them out if they show up in his streams. Speaking of Tomura’s mod – he pulls up a direct-message and messages Spinner. get rid of them. why didn’t you wake me up?

I tried! What was I supposed to do, come over to your house? Spinner must be multitasking, because Dabi’s, Toga’s, and Twice’s usernames vanish in quick succession. People were still watching. I figured it was a bit.

Tomura catches a glimpse of himself in the corner of his screen. His eyes are bloodshot, he’s almost definitely been drooling, and there are keyboard imprints on one side of his face. What the fuck kind of bit could he possibly have been running? Whatever. It won’t matter as long as he gets out of this fast. He faces the camera again. “Since you all want me to go to sleep so bad –”

sleep

sleep

sleeeeep

whose name were you saying

^

^

^

^

 “We’re going to finish this later,” Tomura growls, fighting the urge to yawn. “Thanks for sticking around for – that – and remember, the enemy’s gate is down.”

He cuts the feed about two seconds after he says his stupid catchphrase, then slumps back in his chair and yanks his headphones off. His head hurts. His mouth tastes like garbage. Spinner sends over the earnings report from the – fucking hell, seven-hour stream, and Tomura sees that he can apparently make as much money drooling on his keyboard as he can actually playing the game. Somehow that makes him feel even more like shit. He looks stupid when he sleeps. Everyone was probably laughing at him. He doesn’t need to go back through the chat log and check.

Messages start popping up on his screen, this time from his groupchat with his friends, all of whom he’s pissed at right now. Toga’s first up. Don’t be mad, Tomura-kun! We only logged on because Spinner said you were sleeping in there.

Don’t throw me under the bus like that! I was just asking you what I should do!

You look like shit. When was the last time you went outside? Dabi sends that, then sends another message, rapid-fire. Were you seriously saying your ex’s name in your sleep?

What? Tomura’s face heats up so fast that it’s a miracle he doesn’t burst into flames. If this had happened five seconds earlier while his video was on, he would have nuked his account. Twice chooses this second to chip in. you can’t pine for a girl you dumped. I’m kidding! Pine away! Pine until you start sprouting cones!

I’m with Dabi, sweetie. You look like shit. Magne sends a heart along with that message, like that makes it any better. I think you need to get some outside time. What do you all call it?

Touching grass, Toga says. Tomura-kun go outside challenge.

Tomura’s not going outside. It’s fucking cold.

That sounds like a you problem, Dabi texts. Get your crusty ass outside or

Or what? Tomura’s pretty sure he’s got nothing.

A new name pops up in the chat. Or I’ll make the party do a side quest before they can break your sleeping curse, Compress says. Tomura swears. Go outside.

Compress is the DM for this round of D&D, and he’s not as much of a hard-ass as Dabi was when he was running it – but Tomura knows damn well that he’s not screwing around. And there’s no way Tomura’s spending another session sitting off to one side under a stupid sleeping curse while everyone else gets to play. if I go get coffee will all of you shut up?

Take a selfie! For proof! Twice insists. If you get coffee you can stay awake while you pine!

Tomura’s not fucking pining. He levers himself up out of his chair and goes looking for his jacket. And his scarf.  And his shoes. It takes him so long to find any of them that he starts wondering if his friends don’t have a point about how long it’s been since he left his apartment.

While he searches, his friends keep messaging. I logged on late. Was he really talking in his sleep?

Not really talking. Mumbling. Except the name.

HER name. Toga sends a Star Wars gif for some reason – some old guy saying he hasn’t heard something in a long time. I haven’t thought about her in forever! did we ever find out what happened to her?

Tomura finds his jacket, then his shoes, and glances back at the screen to see the rest of his friends answering in the negative. He closes the message window, powers off the computer, and heads out the door. By the time the elevator hits the lobby, he’s already regretting leaving his apartment. The doors to his apartment building are glass. Even inside the lobby, it’s way too cold.

But he said he’d go outside, and he’d send proof. Tomura steels himself, steps outside, and starts down the street. There’s a coffee shop two blocks away. Maybe he won’t even stick around to buy coffee. He can just go inside, take a selfie, and go home. Tomura checks his phone while he’s waiting for the traffic light to change and sees that his friends are still lighting up the groupchat. It looks like they’re debating whether it’s more embarrassing to say your ex’s name in your sleep or during sex. Most people are saying sex, but Toga’s arguing that saying someone’s name in your sleep is worse. Sex is just sex. If you’re talking about them in your sleep it means they’re on your mind the rest of the time too.

Tomura’s not weighing in on that conversation, but he sort of wants to set the record straight. You aren’t always on his mind. He doesn’t think about you all that much. Sure, the two of you dated for a couple years, but that was at university, almost a decade ago – and Tomura’s the one who ended it. He just thinks about you a little more at this time of year. You always loved the cold, almost as much as Tomura hated it. Just one more thing you didn’t have in common.

That’s not why Tomura broke up with you, though. The two of you were different people, but Tomura would have gotten bored with somebody exactly like him. The important thing was that you understood each other, that you didn’t try to make each other something you weren’t. You never asked Tomura to be anything except who he was. Tomura felt safe with you, like he’d never felt safe with anybody. Safe to have whatever feelings he was having, knowing you’d be there for him no matter what.

You never asked Tomura to be something he wasn’t, but that didn’t matter. Your last year at university, things started to go wrong for you. You needed help, and Tomura couldn’t be who you needed him to be. It wasn’t in his programming to be there for you the way you were there for him, and he didn’t want to stick around and watch your resentment grow with every time he let you down. He’d rather leave first than watch you fall out of love with him. So he did.

He should have known you wouldn’t take the breakup lying down. I never asked you to do anything like that for me, he remembers you saying. I just want you to be here. Is that really so hard for you?

This isn’t some in sickness and in health thing, Tomura said. It’s not that serious.

He saw you flinch, and he knew he’d hurt you. Hurting you made him feel sick. It was serious to me, you said, your voice shaking, and you turned away. My mistake.

It was serious. Too serious for where Tomura was at back then, no matter how much he loved you. He felt like shit afterward, and when he ran it by his friends, they didn’t exactly help. Spinner made it pretty clear he thought Tomura was nuts. Dabi made a point of telling Tomura there’s no way he could do better than you. Twice pitched a fit because you were the only person who’d watch Star Wars with him, and you were never going to talk to any of them ever again.

The only person who sort of got it was Toga. Something about the right person, but the wrong time, and that made sense to Tomura. Maybe if the two of you were older it would have been different. Tomura usually tells himself that, when he thinks about you. It wasn’t on him. It was just bad timing. The fact that he’s never dated anybody since is bad timing, too.

He thinks about you a little more in the winter, but maybe he’s been doing it a little more than usual this winter, because he’s been thinking on and off about looking you up. Not for any real reason, just to see where you’re at. What you’re doing. If you look the way he remembers you, or if you’ve changed so much he can’t recognize you. If any of the dreams you used to talk about ended up coming true.

By the time Tomura gets to the coffee shop, his hands are basically numb, and the coffee shop is jam-packed. He has to get a lot further into the personal space of the person ahead of him in line than he wanted to, but he’s not going to freeze his ass off by standing there with the door open behind him. The person who gets in line behind him apparently didn’t get the memo about the door, and Tomura snaps at them without glancing over his shoulder. “Stay outside until there’s room.”

The door shuts, and Tomura faces front. There are so many people in here that the windows are steaming up, and the air would probably smell like sweat if it didn’t already smell so much like coffee. Tomura’s only consolation is that the baristas look just as done with the whole thing as he is. Hopefully the line will move fast.

It moves pretty fast, fast enough that Tomura’s hands haven’t warmed up by the time he reaches the head of the line. He also hasn’t been checking the menu. It feels stupid to order black coffee for ¥600 when he can make it at home for free. He scans the menu, trying pick something he won’t hate before the person in line behind him decides to murder him for taking too long, and settles on – “A hot chocolate,” the barista repeats. “Really?”

“Is there a problem or something?” Tomura snaps. “It’s on your menu.”

“No problem. What size?”

He’ll be cold on the walk home. Tomura orders the biggest one, and orders it extra-hot so his hands won’t freeze. The price is ridiculous, but Tomura can’t make decent hot chocolate at home. He only knows – or knew – one person who could do that. He reaches into his coat pocket for his wallet. Then his other coat pocket. Then both back pockets of his pants. The barista is drumming his fingers on the counter, and Tomura can hear discontented mumbling from the line behind him. This can’t be happening. He left his apartment specifically to buy coffee. There’s no way he forgot his fucking wallet.

Except that’s exactly what happened, because he can’t find it anywhere. “You can pay with your phone,” the barista says. Right. Tomura yanks his phone out of his pocket, but his hands are still frozen, and he loses his grip. The phone hits the tiles corner-first and a web of cracks spreads across the screen. “Wow –”

Tomura swears and scoops it up. He drops his phone all the time, but the screen doesn’t usually do that. “It still works. Give me a second –”

“No chance. There are other customers waiting –”

“Add a peppermint mocha to that hot chocolate. Same size.” The voice of the customer behind Tomura in line sounds weirdly familiar. “I’ve got both.”

The barista starts typing in the order, and Tomura turns to argue with the person who’s trying to pay for his drink, only for every last thought in his head to evaporate. The person behind him isn’t some stranger who’s trying to move the line ahead. It’s you.

You nudge past him to pay for the order, and you give your name for it, in case there was any doubt in Tomura’s head about who you are. There wasn’t, really. You look like you used to, almost. Your voice sounds almost exactly the same. The gestures Tomura sees as you take out your card to pay, the way you hesitate way too long over the tip screen before giving one that’s too big, are almost familiar. You look like Tomura remembers, except more like yourself. Which is –

“We should probably go this way,” you say, and Tomura snaps out of it. “Right now we’re holding up the line.”

“Yeah.” Tomura follows you to the pickup area. He’s expecting you to say something else, something about how you recognize him, but you don’t say a word. Maybe he’s the one who changed, or else you’re pretending not to recognize him to teach him a lesson. “So, uh – I don’t know if you remember –”

“Tomura? Yeah,” you say, and Tomura’s face heats up so fast that he has to look down at his phone to hide it. “I wasn’t going to say anything, in case it would be awkward. Is your phone okay?”

“It’s fine. The screen’s just fucked up.” Tomura burns a few seconds poking at it, trying to get himself under control. People run into their exes. It happens all the time, probably. People probably run into their ex-girlfriends who they still liked when they broke up with them, who were hot to start with but somehow got hotter in the ten years since the breakup, every goddamn day. “I’m fucked if it doesn’t wake up soon. I have to send the League a selfie to prove I left my house.”

Tomura’s probably said stupider things, in worse situations. He just can’t remember when they were. “You’re still close with the League?” you ask. You sound interested. “That’s really nice. I’m not close with anybody from school.”

It’s Tomura’s fault. Most of your friends were Tomura’s friends first. Somehow he doesn’t think telling you about how he and the League hang out at least once a week and usually more is the right move here. “Have you lived here the whole time?”

“No. I moved away for a while. But I always figured I’d end up back here.” You smile slightly. “Sometimes I think things happen when they’re supposed to.”

Things happen when they’re supposed to – like Tomura running into you, the same day as he got caught napping on a livestream and saying your name in his sleep. Toga’s going to lose her shit when she finds out about this. “So why’d you come back now?”

“A few reasons. Work, mainly,” you say. “Did you move away at all?”

“No. Stayed. Everything’s here.” Tomura keeps trying to revive his phone. If he looks at you, he’s going to stare. “Where’d you go?”

“You don’t have to ask me that,” you say. “I know you hate small talk.”

“If you know that, then you should know I’m only asking because I want to know,” Tomura says. “After we – uh, after. Where did you go?”

“It’s kind of a long story,” you say. “They’ll be done with our drinks way before it’s over. What are you going to do about that selfie if your phone doesn’t wake up in time?”

“Tell them I went but it broke.” Tomura’s already resigning himself to spending the next D&D session stuck under the sleeping curse, but it’s almost worth it – definitely worth it – if he got to run into you. “Look, is there somewhere you have to –”

“I can take a picture of you and text it to you,” you say. “That way you’ll have the evidence on your phone as soon as you get it working again.”

“Do you know my number?” Tomura asks without thinking. You give him a weird look. “What? Are you telling me you didn’t block me?”

“If it’s the same number you had back then, I still have it memorized,” you say. You glance down, searching through the pockets of your winter coat. The coat looks sort of familiar to Tomura. Maybe you had it when the two of you were together. “The League probably won’t buy it unless you’ve got the drink with you, right? So we should wait until it gets here.”

Tomura nods. It’s a great plan, except that he’s not going to be anywhere close to done talking to you by the time the drinks get here. He manages to coax some life into his phone, drops it in his pocket to conceal the evidence, and asks as bluntly as possible. “I just finished up a stream, so I’m free for the rest of the day. If you don’t have anywhere else to be, we should talk.”

You blink. “Why?”

“I want to hear the long story,” Tomura says. You look surprised. “I have stories, too. So we should –”

A barista shouts your name, and you turn to retrieve the drinks before Tomura can finish the sentence. He doesn’t love the interruptions, but it’s loud as hell in here, so he can forgive it. You hand Tomura his drink, then raise yours to your mouth for a sip. You’re holding it in both hands, and that’s when Tomura sees it. That’s the only reason he sees it. You’re wearing a ring on your fourth finger. On your left hand.

He can’t keep the shock out of his voice, and he’s damn lucky that he speaks before anything else has time to hit. “You’re married?”

“Engaged. The wedding’s in December.”

It’s January. “It takes that long to get married?”

“If you’re planning a big wedding, then yeah,” you say, and sigh. You shift away from the pickup counter, towards the door, and Tomura follows you, even though the impulse to jump out the coffee shop’s front window and go into witness protection is growing stronger by the second. “His family’s – traditional. If doing things in style makes them happy, it’s not that hard to put up with.”

Tomura thinks it probably is, or else you wouldn’t look that tired when you talk about your wedding. Shouldn’t you be excited talking about your wedding? Or maybe Tomura’s just reading what he wants to read on your face, instead of the truth. That for you, running into Tomura is the same as running into anybody else. That his heart’s the only one that skips a beat when he makes eye contact with you. That you’re fine, that you’re happy. That the four years you spent with Tomura didn’t matter to you at all.

“So,” you say, into what Tomura’s realizing is an awkward silence, “should I take this picture?”

“Uh, yeah.” Tomura’s planning to just stand there, staring into the middle distance and trying not to look like he’s had the wind knocked out of him, but you shift him around so he’s standing with his back to the coffee shop instead. You take one, two, maybe three pictures. “That’s enough. Thanks.”

“I’ll text you,” you say. Your phone vanishes into your coat pocket, along with the hand that’s not holding your drink. “Stay warm, okay?”

You’re leaving. Tomura’s not anywhere close to done talking to you. He doesn’t care that you’re married or engaged or whatever the fuck, he still wants to know – what happened to you, where you went, how you ended up here. He tries to think of something to keep your attention, to make you turn back around and look at him, and realizes with a sick rush of guilt that this must have been how you felt, when he was breaking up with you. Searching for something that would get a response and coming up permanently empty.

He finally finds something, when you’ve almost made it to the door. “Hey. Thanks for – uh, the drink. It was good to see you.”

The old you would have said any time. You’d have said it was good to see Tomura, too, and maybe you’d have slowed down a step, let him catch up. Instead you incline your head. “Goodbye, Tomura,” you say, and then you’re gone.

It’s freezing, but Tomura has to walk. He can’t stay here. He hits the street, then spends too long trying to figure out which direction you went, like an idiot. What is he going to do, chase after you? All his stupid thoughts about looking you up – what did he think was going to happen if he saw you again? Tomura doesn’t know, but it wasn’t this, and it should have been. Why wasn’t it? Whatever it is, he can deal with it at home. Tomura drinks half his hot chocolate, burns his tongue, and sets off into the cold.

By the time he’s slammed the door of his apartment behind him and found his wallet sitting on the kitchen counter, he’s gotten a text from you, with two pictures of himself attached. You must remember what the League is like about proof, because you framed the picture so well that Tomura’s friends won’t be able to accuse him of editing his face into an existing shot. But Tomura can’t send this picture to his friends. He can’t send it to anyone. Anybody who looks at it will see exactly how Tomura feels.

How does he feel, really? He doesn’t know, but he knows he had it backward, all this time. He left you. Ten years ago. He even ghosted you to make it easier – for him or for you, he’s not sure which. He might think of you more in the winter and have been thinking about looking you up and have felt his heart race when he saw you again and say your name in his sleep, but he’s over it. Tomura’s been over it, because he left you.

So why does he feel like you’re leaving him?

[lani-heart]

|| lani-heart's ultimate masterlist || MDNI

genre(s) -> angst, fluff, hair stylist au, smut, anonymous request <3 paring(s) -> non-idol!hyunjin x afab reader warning(s) -> minor mentions of bullying, slight mention of being stood up, unprotected sex, oral ( receiving ), fingering, teasing, praise kink, pet names etc. words -> 5.5k

abstract -> "I think we should consider this a free of charge, right cutie?"

y/n's perspective

“You badly need a haircut,” Wonyoung said and I knew she was right. “We are not getting this out of your hair,” she said while she tried all types of tips on how to get gum out of your hair. 

“Look if I were you I'd quit that internship,” she said as she held up scissors and tried to minimize how much she had to cut. “I just don’t understand why they decided to pick on me?” I said and she scoffed.

“Because they’re jealous you are getting the jump on them. Also, I’m sorry but you need a haircut–” she said as she snipped the hair off and gave it to me. “–this is very obvious. Anyone can see this…” she said and showed me through the mirror.

“I’m going to have to cut my hair short… I never had short hair before” I said now panicked and she hummed before scrunching my hair up. 

“I hate it / I like it,” we both said and I groaned. “You look cute with short hair!” she said and I scoffed. “Look, this is the hair salon I go to, set up an appointment and say it’s urgent and they’ll pity you,” she said with an oblivious smile. “Thanks a lot, Wonnie,” I said and she giggled. 

“Besides there are a few hair stylists that are your type”

I had to go to the internship again but this time I put my hair in a bun hoping that the hair Wonyoung cut wouldn’t stick out and embarrass me. “Hi, I just wanted to say that what they did yesterday was so mean” I heard and saw one of the other interns. I haven’t made friends yet but she seemed nice. Her name was Tzuyu. “Thank you, and don’t worry that they’ll get their karma,” I said and she smiled. 

“Besides, if the CEO finds out she’ll fire them,” she said and I smiled. “I know but… I don’t want to be the reason they lose an important opportunity for petty things” I said and she smiled softly. 

“How mature of you… I would’ve reported already” she joked and I chuckled. “I’m Tzuyu, you’re y/n right?” she asked and I nodded. “Well I hope you have it easier, I have to get back to work,” she said as she waved off. 

I avoided the group of interns the whole day and got permission to leave early since my appointment was soon. I walked into the place Wonyoung recommended. It was called the S.K.Z. CUTS, and was extremely popular, I got lucky getting this appointment, especially after explaining my situation to the one who booked my appointment. 

“Hello, welcome to S.K.Z. CUTS do you have an appointment today, ma’am?” he asked and I nodded. “Yes, under y/n in ten minutes?” I asked and his eyes lit up. “You called yesterday! I was the one who booked you, you’re in good hands, those girls from your work are gonna be left shocked and jealous after today I can assure you!” he said with a big grin. 

I saw on his name tag that his name was Changbin.

“I booked you with our best stylist, no worries,” he said and I chuckled. He was sweet and very energetic. “I would do your hair especially after what you said yesterday but I’m not trusted with a pair of scissors” he joked and I wondered why. 

“Don’t worry about him you’re in good hands–” I suddenly saw someone come by to confirm and smile before whispering to the receptionist “–Changbin don’t scare her off” he whispered to him. 

“Hyunjin should be ready for you in five minutes, please sit in the waiting area for the time being,” he said and I nodded as I walked towards the comfy chairs and magazines. It was magazines with this place on the front page, talking about how well they are and only saying praises about them. 

“Miss y/n?” I heard as I stood up and walked towards the man… his name was Hyunjin and I think I was awe-struck. He was so pretty…

“Follow me please,” he said and I nodded before scrubbing to follow him. He helped me sit down and get comfortable before placing the hair-cutting cape on me.

“Can I take this off?” he asked and I nodded a little worried about cutting my hair. “Hmm.. I think I see the problem” he said as he flicked the strand of hair now sticking out away from the rest of my hair “Can I ask how this happened?” he asked and I sighed. 

“Let’s just say I don’t get a lot with my co-workers,” I said and he hummed. “So what were you planning?” he asked as he looked at me through the mirror. Why was he so… pretty?! I think Wonyoung was right… “Hello?” he asked and I snapped out of my thoughts. I smiled apologetically… “I don’t know… I've never had short hair before and this was such a recent thing, I just want it fixed, '' I said and he nodded. 

“That’s fair, we could cut the hair short and it would look like–” he did the same thing Wonyoung did and I sighed… He chuckled, “Not happy with short hair then?” he said and I shook my head. 

“But there's not much you can do right?” I asked and he chuckled. “Oh? Are you doubting my skills as your hairstylist today?” He joked but I shook my head and panicked and he laughed again before patting my head. “Don’t worry, cutie–” What did he call me “–can you give me your trust for this session?” he asked and I nodded. I don’t know what I was gonna do with my hair but he did and he was a professional so…

I placed my full trust in him. 

Hyunjin’s perspective

She was clueless and upset about her hair. I wanted to do her pretty face justice at the very least, I think short hair looked good on her but if she didn’t want it I had better ideas for her, that she would like. She confirmed that she was okay with me cutting any hair to make it seem normal and not just a little strand sticking out like before. 

I told her we’d have to wash her hair first to get it wet, to which she agreed and I took her to the back. Usually, I'd make Minho-hyung or Hannie do this but she seemed stressed and a bit worried about today. I wanted to build trust with her and maybe she'll even be a loyal and frequent customer of mine. 

I definitely wouldn't mind seeing her again.

She looked so content with me playing around with her hair and washing it, even closing her eyes, making me chuckle. She was a cute one… it's been a while since I had such a cute customer. 

“You’re so good at this” she muttered and I laughed. “Trust me, I’m very good at other things too” I joked and her eyes opened and cheeks reddened. “Let’s dry your hair a bit and go back to my chair,” I said as I started drying her hair a bit so it was not dripping everywhere. 

“I’m gonna be your fairy godmother today,” I said and she smiled. 

Let’s just hope I don’t also attract a knight in shining armor in front of you though

I ended up doing some layers in her hair, in a popular hairstyle that many people her age and even kids in school come to get. I was now just blow-drying her hair, taking me time. I know her time was going into another customer’s at this point but I wanted to take my time. 

I’ve seen Chan-hyung’s glare from across the room pointing at the clock to which I nod and put my focus on her. I was almost done anyway, just stylizing. 

“We’re done, do you like it?” I asked a little nervously how she’d react but her eyes shined and a smile was now evident on her face. “This is so nice… ah you are a miracle worker,” she said and I chuckled. 

“It is a higher maintenance cut, so you will have to style it so it isn’t all over the place and the layers can do their thing,” I said and she nodded. “I was so worried about today but you’re so good at this. thank you, thank you, thank you” she said and I chuckled. “It wasn’t hard, you’d make a lot of things look good darling,” I said and her eyes widened a bit, her face reddening again, making me chuckle. 

“Hello, miss I'm sorry to interrupt–” Chan-hyung came by and I glared… don’t tell me he was taking her away. “–he has another client waiting for a while now, let me handle your payment,” he said and I scoffed. He led her away but I went up to him before he could finish.

“Go to your other customer” he scolded and I scoffed. “I will, I was gonna say I’m gonna use my free haircut on her '' I said and he sighed. “Fine, just get back to work and please don't take an eternity again,” he said and I nodded. 

I was really hoping she’d come back again…

y/n’s perspective

I was so happy that I was ready to scream it to the world. “Everything is covered, I hope you have a nice day,” he said and I felt myself freeze. “H-huh?” I asked and he smiled. “Hyunjin said it was free of service, don’t worry. I hope you’re happy with the services today, and decide to come back to S.K.Z. CUTS” he said and I sighed. 

“Can I leave him a tip?” I asked and he nodded while I gave him the money I was gonna give him today. “Have a nice day!” he said as I walked out. I was so happy with the haircut… I had many layers but my hair wasn’t shorter. He even wanted to give me a free haircut… he was so sweet and pretty no wonder many people came by. 

I suddenly heard my phone ring. “Hello! Are you done with your haircut?” Wonyoung asked and I said yes while I told her all about it, even sending her a picture.  “Did you get a cute stylist?” she asked and I felt my face get hotter. 

“I really did…”

She made me tell her all the details and I felt only more and more of the urge to make another appointment but then I wouldn’t see him anytime soon. Especially since he’s one of the most popular stylists…

I wonder if I wasn’t special and he just does that for everyone? Either way today was a good day, I maybe made a friend with Tzuyu and Hyunjin was a miracle worker. 

Hopefully, my luck doesn’t end at the start of tomorrow.

I can’t believe my stupid alarm clock didn’t wake me up. I was in a rush and I had to bring the office coffee today since it was my turn. I rushed in and had to catch my breath while anxiously waiting in line as I looked through my phone for everyone’s orders. Why did all the interns ask for such complicated and expensive orders? They even wanted breakfast sandwiches–

“You know I did say this was a high-maintenance hairstyle that needs blow drying and product” I heard and turned around to see Hyunjin. “Ah! I know I was just in a rush today” I said and he chuckled. “Just promise to take care of it next time I see you,” he said and I nodded.

“If you’re in such a rush why are you here?” he asked and I sighed. “I have to bring my office coffee and treats today and everyone gave me their order, I overslept today,” I said and he nodded. “Can I?” he asked as he pulled out a hair tie and I was embarrassed. I knew my hair was a mess. I barely had time to do a quick brush-through. 

I nodded and turned for him to tie my hair.

“Now look you look professional enough for an office but your messy hair was cute too,” he said and I blushed. “Next” I heard and I smiled and thanked him before I ordered everything. “Ok that will be–” “I’ll pay for her, but can I get an Iced Americano,” he said and I shook my head. “You don’t have to–” “And you didn’t have to leave me such a big tip,” he said and I sighed before they said they’d try to get our order out in a few minutes. 

“How are you gonna carry all that?” he asked and I smiled.”It's fine the office is a five-minute walk” I said and he hummed. He looked at his phone before texting someone. “I told my boss I’ll be a little late to set up but I can help you,” he said and I shook my head. 

“That’s too nice… you’ve been nothing but nice–” “Then let me do this for you,” he asked and I sighed and smiled. He was a perfect guy…

“For y/n!” I heard and saw the order… “There's no way you were gonna accomplish this by yourself,” he said, and honestly… I was lucky to run into Hyunjin... for more reason than one.

I wasn't even late to work and I set up everything with Hyunjin’s help. 

“I really wish you’d let me repay you,” I said and he chuckled. “How about you do me two favors?” he asked and I nodded. “The next time I see you, you better have taken my advice with your hair. The second one… here” he said as he handed me a piece of paper he wrote in.

“We should… go out sometime,” he said and I felt myself freeze again in shock. Him? With me… 

“Think about it, cutie,” he said as he waved bye and left my office. “Hey, y/n! Who was that guy?” I heard some of the intern bullies ask and I had to refrain from scoffing. “None of your business," I said and they chuckled.

“Is he at least single?” they asked and I said… “No”

In which they walked away and started gossiping. I wasn’t gonna let them have anything related to my personal life… which meant I wanted to take Hyunjin up on his offer.

I would need to text him later…

“Hmm? y/n did you do something to your hair?” Tzuyu asked and I smiled. Told her about my haircut and where I got it from, in which she said the CEO is friends with the owner and said only good things about them. 

What a small world?

Hyunjin’s perspective

“You’re lucky you finished on time before we opened,” Chan-hyung said and I nodded. “What made you so late anyway hyung?” Felix asked and I smiled. 

“I was asking someone out,” I said and everyone suddenly oohed. “Just don’t do it again, you already did it yesterday with that girl– Was it her?” he asked putting two and two together. “Hyunjin falling in love with a client~” Minho-hyung teased. “I’m not in love” I corrected and everyone now teased me. 

“Because of that the next client was so mad,” Chan-hyung said and I scoffed. “All she wanted was a trim, y/n had a little issue,” I said and he sighed. 

“Already defending his girlfriend. Oi Hyunjin, she better not distract you from work!” he said as everyone laughed. I make no promises… I'd let her distract me anytime. Besides, her reactions are so cute… she seemed very sensi– “Hyung, did you give her your new number?” Seungmin said and I felt my eyes widen. 

I recently changed my number…

“I’m guessing that's a no?” he said and I felt stupid that I forgot. 

“Changbin is her number in the system!” I said hurriedly that he was about to look when we saw customers. 

“Hyunjin got to work!”

y/n’s perspective

The day was finally over when I was walking back to my desk to collect my stuff. 

“Hey y/n! That cute guy left you his number right?” I heard as I saw the three of them either sitting on my desk or chair… “It’s a dead number,” she said and I was confused. 

A dead number?

“You didn’t think a guy like that was interested in a pathetic girl like you right? He’s famous, you’re but a little intern who won’t even get the job. Just because you got a new haircut you think that’ll change your appearance?” she said and they laughed as they left my desk but not before throwing cold coffee from the morning on me. 

Well, today was a worse day than I thought. 

I was picking up my stuff when I felt a towel on my head. “You shouldn’t let them walk all over you,” Tzuyu said and I smiled. “It's no worries,” I said and she sighed. 

“When it was their turn they forgot your coffee order, and now I can see the receipt and how they ordered the most expensive stuff, put gum in your hair for you to have to get a haircut, and besides S.K.Z. CUTS is expensive… how much was it I can probably–""Tzuyu, thank you but it's fine. Besides, they did my hair for free” I said bitterly. 

“Free? Who did your hair?” she asked. “Hyunjin,” I said and she looked shocked. “Really? He’s always stingy with clients…” she said and hated how it filled my heart a little with hope. 

“Go home, you don’t have to take care of this mess okay” she assured and I nodded as I took my stuff and left. I dialed Wonyoung…

“Hello!” she picked up and I let it out. The bullying, the dead number, even the coffee…

“Go home, I’ll meet you there”

“Is this a good idea?” I asked and she smiled. “We’re gonna have some fun, and you will reject some guys like how he did a crack to your heart okay?” she teased and I was gonna play along until I got there and maybe at most just drink Wonyoung’s free drinks…

She dressed me in a cute top, short skirt, and painful heels that I promised her wouldn’t even last me the night as she now styled my hair. 

I can’t believe he gave me a dead number… I thought he was actually… interested. 

“No more pouting, you’ll ruin your lip gloss” she scolded and took out my hair rollers and I could see my hair now fully styled… it looked nice but it looked better when he did it. 

Why am I so caught up over a pretty stranger? 

“We’re out for only free drinks and maybe some free food!” Wonyoung said and I smiled. We walked to the sleazy bar where we sat down and she told me to control my posture. 

“Hello, ladies, before we start tonight the table over there gave you two drinks from our bar. '' he said and I sighed. Wonyoung winked at me and I chuckled. We ordered appetizers… “Be careful alright, two pretty girls should enjoy their night” he said and I noticed his name was San. 

“He’s not bad for you,” Wonyoung said and I sighed. “He’s not my type but he does seem sweet,” I said and she chuckled. We talked about nonsense and even gossiped about her work from the modeling studio when we got another set of drinks. 

“From the gentlemen in the corner, by the way, if you need a taxi or an uber we can call one free of charge,” he said and I nodded.

“Wonnie we have to leave him a good tip–” “Don’t pay attention to the waiter, pay attention to the one who gave us drinks!” she scolded and I saw… “They work from–” “Uh-huh… and you’re heartbreaker is there too” she corrected and I groaned. 

“Do you want me to throw these drinks–” “No, why waste a free drink?” I asked as I sipped mine. “Hmm… these taste like mocktails,” I said and she sighed. 

“Either you flirt and bag the waiter or go confront the bastard who gave you a dead number. Decide before I come back from the bathroom” she glared and I sighed. I guess that was a chance for the table next to us to start trying to talk to me and I had to bite my tongue at their vulgar words. 

“Hi, cutie” I heard and they finally shut up as he sat on Wonnie’s seat. I glared and he took his phone out and the contact page… “I really did want to take you out… I still do! But… I recently changed my number last week and I accidentally gave you my old number from habit. I’m sorry” he apologized and I sighed. 

“I thought you were being a jerk” I muttered and he smiled. “I really did want to see you all dolled up for me,” he said and I sighed… “I’m here with my–” I was cut off by my phone, a message from Wonyoung reading:

Good luck with lover boy, his friend explained to have him pay the bill <3

“You’re lucky, my friend just abandoned me,” I said and he chuckled. 

“Wanna get out of here?” 

Hyunjin’s perspective

I’m glad she believed me and that her friend gave her the small push to come with me. I was walking her home since it was too late to do anything special. 

She was all pretty and dolled up with her hair even styled. I wanted to badly give her a kiss but I didn’t want to rush or make her feel uncomfortable. 

“Ah we’re here,” she said as she smiled. “I’ll take you up,” I said and she nodded as we now stood in the silence of the elevator. “You know, I live close by here,” I said and she looked shocked. “I’ve never seen you before” she pouted and I chuckled. “Maybe we walked past each other and never noticed” I joked and she muttered lowly enough for me to hear. 

“I’d never forget such a pretty face. '' I chuckled and leaned in to whisper in her ear. “I don’t think I could forget such a cute girl like you,” I said and she looked away, probably reddened. “You’re a big flirt aren't you? '' she said and I chuckled. 

“Only with you, darling,” I said as I asked for her hand despite not needing to but she took my hand as we walked the hallway until she pulled away and was now at the front of her apartment. She looked at me silently as if confused. I smiled… “Have a nice night” I said and she smiled. “Think of me?” I asked and she sighed and kissed me on the cheek. 

“Don’t forget about me” she said and I chuckled. “How could I forget that you missed this kiss?” I asked and she giggled. “Where should I have missed you?” she asked and I smirked at the point on my lips.

“Hmm? I don’t think I should after you gave me your old number” she teased and I pouted while putting my hand on her chin and lifting it to me “Should I make it up to you?” I asked and she nodded. I leaned in to kiss her, surely her lip gloss was getting all over my lips and she even tasted faintly of strawberries due to it.

I licked her lips a little to let in but she smiled teasing me I grabbed her hips making her gasp as I kissed her deeper until her hands found their way to my neck and I felt her pressed herself against me. 

“I don’t think we should do this out here giving others a free show if they decide to leave their apartments?” I said and she hummed. 

“What are you implying, Mr. Stylist?”

no one’s perspective

The two of you rushed into your apartment not even wasting time before kissing again. This time even more intimately with the kiss being even more messy than in the public view of the hallway. Hyunjin’s grip on your hips only tightened but now around where the hem of your shirt is. 

When you finally let each other breathe again a string connecting you both, Hyunjin couldn’t help but admire the soft red color now smudged onto the corner of your mouth and even cheek. 

“So pretty and dolled up, a shame I ruined this huh?” he asked you as he chuckled while rubbing his thumb now on your lips as if he wasn’t the same color or as if he didn’t have the lipstick stain from the peck on his cheek. 

“Why don’t you ruin it some more?” you joked and he softly moaned, making the atmosphere more desperate. “Don’t joke like that, I might just take you up on that offer” he warned and you hummed. “What if I want you to?” you asked… he was a sweet guy and not to mention attractive. 

“I want to take you out first, be a gentleman, and then get here again” he teased and you chuckled. “What if I don’t want a gentleman?” you teased and his eyes only darkened with each hypothetical question you asked. 

“Then what do you want, doll?” he asked you and you smiled a deceitful innocent smile while batting those eyes of yours. His grip on your waist is only tightening… 

“Stop teasing me and–” you were cut off by him suddenly lifting you up to wrap your legs around his waist. You moaned out when he started kissing your neck now deciding that he'll be the perfect gentleman on your first date together but succumbing to desires right now. 

You didn't even realize when he laid you down on your couch as he now was leaving hickies everywhere on your neck without a care that you had an office job and that it was summer so turtlenecks and scarves are out of the picture. 

“I wanna take this off you so bad, cutie” he pouted as his grip on your shirt even left small scratches on your waist. “Then take it off” you said, giving him permission to take it off you and he did. Leaving little to the imagination in that skirt of yours and bra now in full display. 

“Pretty girl… you weren’t hoping to show this off to that waiter of yours right?” he asked teasingly and you smiled. “Maybe, he was cut–mhm” You were cut off with your own moan when you felt him now grind against your clothed core. 

“Thinking of someone else while I'm here?” he asked and you shook your head. “Good girl… be a good girl for me will you?” he asked before kissing you again. This time with him grinding against you and his hands groping you with your bra on. Now moaning in another kiss of his…

“Hyunjin” you moaned, pulling away now feeling annoyed at the lack of action, especially with how he was grinding against you. He chuckled and kissed your nose before leaning down and looking up at you giving you quite the view. 

“What? Do you want more? I didn’t take you for someone so greedy?” he teased as he let go of your chest and now had a grip on your skirt. “You sure about this y/n?” he asked and you nodded desperately. 

He chuckled at how desperate you were to get some relief. 

He took off your skirt leaving in a match panty set to your bra. “You even matched… a shame it wasn’t for me” he pouted and before you could defend yourself you moaned out at how his fingers now teased your clothed clit. “You give such cute reactions like I thought you would '' he said, liking how expressive you were at being teased. 

“More” you whined and he chuckled before pulling your panties to the side to now rub at your clit making you more expressive. “So wet… I wonder how you’d taste?” he said before licking a strip up to your clit making me suddenly grab his wrist at the sudden pleasure. 

“You want me to stop? But I was enjoying myself?” he teased and you whined before he continued to do his work but now intertwined your hands together. He quickly let go however to then tease you further with his fingers. Not having anything to grip on you decided on his hair. 

He let out a chuckle, “Careful cutie” he teased before now adding a finger to you occasionally feeling the cold metal from his rings and his tongue relentlessly teasing your clit. He would occasionally also moan not only drunk in your own pleasure and taste but also how you gripped his hair. 

“Fuck… I don’t think I can handle this anymore” he muttered before standing up now admiring the view. He leaned in for another kiss while his fingers fiddled with his pants desperate to take them off and free himself. “Are you absolutely sure about this?” he asked now out of breath again… 

You nod and he smiles. “Come on cutie, I need your sweet voice to tell me to continue” he begged and you chuckled. “Please Hyunjin I need this" you begged and he lined up with your cunt. He started off by teasing both himself and you by only adding in the tip. 

“Fuck you’re so wet… you keep sucking me in too” he muttered and you whined at how slow he was going. “Think you handle it?” he teased and you nodded as he chuckled. “Beg for me cutie,” he asked just as desperate as you were but wanted to hear it in your voice.

“Fuck Hyunjin just fuck me already please!” you said now frustrated at the lack of pleasure. Not being able to handle it any longer bottomed out as he leaned in to fiddle with your bra as you adjusted and he gave himself a break from the sudden please... “Hyunjin” you muttered and you could feel him slightly move as he chuckled. 

“I know, cutie… you’re making me go crazy too” he confessed before slowly moving looking at your expressions. It was cute seeing how your eyebrows furrowed and your eyes closed even how your hands touched against his waist not knowing what to grip. Your hair is now messier than when he saw you in the coffee shop.

Your moans only got louder and you opened your eyes slightly making eye contact and he swore he almost came right there and then from your glass eyes threatening to start crying. “Fuck, Hyunjin!” you moaned out and he chuckled. 

“Good girl, such a pretty girl come on you wanna cum?” he asked as he now rubbed your clit making you moan louder not trusting your voice to say anything else without stuttering all you could do is nod.

“Cum I wanna feel you cum around me cutie,” he said before pinching and teasing your clit until you tightened around him like a vice would. He stopped moving at the threat of cumming inside you as you came. 

Your moans, your tears, your chest trying to get as much air as possible, your hands gripping against his shirt that was surprisingly still on… he did a couple of small thrusts before he pulled out and rubbed himself on your clit making me moan and whine overstimulated.

You were now watching Hyunjin pleasure himself on you watching him and hearing how his moans now got louder and whinier until he let out a whisper…

“Fuck… Im gonna cum,” he said as he let out a breathy moan when you felt his hot cum paint your clit and even some on your chest.

“Fuck” he said as he rubbed his cum on your clit before giving you a soft smile.

“I hope I didn’t get cum on your couch” he softly muttered tiredly making you giggle. He leaned in to kiss you against suddenly very tired and cuddly… “I’m more worried that you're getting cum on your clothes,” you said and he hummed “That’s what dry cleaners are for cutie,” he said and you chuckled. 

“So when’s that date gentlemen?” you teased and he groaned. “I blame you” he muttered and you chuckled. “So didn’t enjoy my services?” you teased and he laughed. “Services? Are you gonna charge me now?” he asked now looking at me, leaning his forehead on yours. 

“Hmm? Should I charge you?” you teased and he hummed with a soft smile and his eyes glistening. 

"I think we should consider this a free of charge, right cutie?"

please don't be a silent reader !! reblog, comment, and like <3

[bahablastplz]

All in | Chapter 4

pairing: Lee Felix x f!reader (mafia au)

summary: You didn't know what you were getting yourself into when you started dating Yang Jungwon, notorious mafia boss. Your life gets flipped upside down when you're found beaten and bloody by SKZ, the rival mafia group, and you're quickly integrated into their lives. What will happen when you try to leave your old life behind and start anew?

chapter summary: you meet the other members and chaos ensues; Felix sticks up for you once again.

warnings: please see series masterlist for all warnings

series masterlist ~~ series taglist ~~ main masterlist

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In the morning, after reapplying your makeup to most of your visible bruises on your face, you go downstairs to meet everyone. Your first thought is that something smells good, and once again you’re reminded by how little you’ve eaten the past few days. When you turn the corner to the kitchen, you’re surprised to see a long dining table with ten chairs, nine of them being occupied. How did you not notice it yesterday? You must have been too caught up in conversation with Felix and Lee Know to notice it. You freeze when you realize you must have walked straight into a meeting, one that you certainly don’t belong at. 

“Come, sit.” Chan says. It’s not a question so you don’t hesitate. You see some familiar faces that you’ve come to know over the past few days as well as some unfamiliar ones. You take place in the empty seat between Chan and Hyunjin and look around. All of them are eating breakfast, and it pleases you to see that what must be your seat has a full plate of food in front of it. Sausage, scrambled eggs, pancakes with syrup, and a cup of orange juice. 

“Can I… eat?” You question. You hear some laughter before Chan confirms that yes, the food is for you. You eat hurriedly, albeit awkwardly with the brace on your wrist. “This ish sho good,” you say with a mouth full of food. “Did you make this?” You look at Chan incredulously. 

“Not me,” he smiles. He gestures across the table to Lee Know. Your eyes widen, and you point at him, then the food, and then at him again. He cracks a small smile and, after seeing his rougher facade yesterday, this makes you puff your chest with joy. 

“She’s funny. I like her,” you hear someone say. You look at the man, him being one of the ones you hadn’t met yet. He has wide boba eyes and puffy cheeks stuffed with food, long brown hair covering most of his face. 

“What’s your name?” You ask him. He has kind eyes and you like that about him already. 

“Jisung,” he answers. You nod. The name suits him. You look around at the other faces and an introduction follows. The youngest member Jeongin introduces himself, followed by two more men that slightly intimidate you, Seungmin and Woojin. 

You sit in silence and let the conversation flow naturally, trying to get an understanding of the dynamics. It seems to be going normally, despite your presence, which you are grateful for. It is mostly jokes between Han and Changbin, and some more silent conversation between Seungmin and Lee Know. You pick up on the fact that Lee Know is leaving after breakfast for his infiltration mission.

“So, Y/N, tell us about yourself,” someone suddenly says. It’s Woojin. He is looking at you with an unwavering gaze that makes you slightly uncomfortable–has he been staring this whole time?

“Oh, um… There really isn’t much to tell.” You say. You try to leave it at that and drop the topic, not really wanting to disclose much to the man you don’t really know. He has a very wide smile that doesn’t quite meet his eyes, and something about that is unsettling. 

“Nonsense, we’ve heard so much about you! You really seem like the fun, curious type, like a little mouse.” 

“Um–” you start and then stop, not really sure what to say. 

“I heard you had quite a fun night, right little mouse?” You wish he would stop calling you that ridiculous nickname, as it has you squirming uncomfortably in your seat. 

“What happened last night is between Y/N and myself at this point. It concerns no-one further.” You’re happy when Chan speaks up on your behalf, and you let out a sigh of relief. 

“You’re right, Chan. I would keep an eye on her, though. She’s just too pretty to let out that late at night again. You really need to put a leash on her, you can never let someone like her out of your sight–” Woojin lets out a grunt as Seungmin elbows him in the ribs. Your stomach churns at the man’s words but you feel happy that others, even those that don’t know you that well, are willing to stand up for you. You have to remind yourself that you’re surrounded by some of the most dangerous men in the country, and a few slightly uncomfortable comments should be the least of your worries, but they do seem to be trying to make sure you don’t feel threatened in this house. You glance at Felix for the first time that morning but he isn’t looking at you. He is boring a hole into the side of Woojin’s head with the intensity of his gaze. It sends a shiver down your spine. 

Breakfast wraps up, albeit a little more awkwardly than before, and Jeongin offers to clean the dishes. The members disperse and you start to walk back to your room but freeze, realizing you have nothing to do. Maybe you could look around for a library? Surely there is one in a house this large. You aren’t sure how Chan would feel about you snooping around the house, though, so decide you will go to his office to ask him yourself. 

You find your way to the office you had been in only once before. You wrap your knuckles against the door three times lightly. 

“Enter,” you hear. As you creak the door open, you find Hyunjin and Chan sitting inside, looking at you in anticipation. 

“Um…” you start. “I was just wondering if you had a library? Or any books I could read?” You stand there somewhat awkwardly, not really looking at either of the men. 

“What type of book do you fancy?” Hyunjin is the one to ask. “You seem like the type to enjoy romance or fantasy. Or perhaps the classics are more your style?” You think for a second, trying to push aside the irritation you felt for the man yesterday. 

“Are there many options? I guess any novel would do. I don’t really care for Sci-Fi or nonfiction, though.” 

“Follow me,” Hyunjin says as he stands. The two of you look at Chan and he dismisses you with a wave of his hand. Hyunjin leads you down a large corridor decorated with various elaborate paintings. There are several rooms that you had never passed by before. One of them is a large gym with glass doors, and though you don’t get a good glance at the equipment, you can see Felix and Changbin inside. You can hear them grunting and see them lifting weights. If Hyunjin notices you pause, he doesn’t say anything, but he does clear his throat. Snapping your head back to him, he gestures for you to follow him into a room that is tucked away from the rest.

It’s a bedroom that’s at least three times the size of the guest room you had found yourself in. A large king size bed is in the middle with white silk sheets. There are a lot of windows, lots of natural light shining through to illuminate the contents of the room. The smell of something floral–lavender, wafts through the air, followed by something sharper, more chemical… Paint. A large cloth is draped across the expanse of the floor, littered with easels and canvases of various sizes. A makeshift art studio on one side of the room, decorated with different types of greenery and potted plants. It gives the room a very earthy and artistic vibe that you wouldn’t have associated with someone like Hyunjin, an intelligent know-it-all who couldn’t care less about your feelings. Your eyes flit to the corner of the room, a scene for a still-life set up with random items under a bright lamp to replicate artificial light; a bowl full of fruits and flowers are the subjects of focus, though the canvas he was painting on is currently covered up. 

Hyunjin ignores your wandering gaze and walks right past the scene, leading you to a marvelous floor-to-ceiling bookshelf. Your jaw drops. It even has a ladder attached to the top of the shelf with wheels, giving you the ability to reach the books on the highest shelf if you so choose. 

His gaze bounces around, as if searching for something, but he finds it almost immediately. That’s how you can tell that the shelves are organized very particularly so that he can find whatever he wants in an instant. He hands you a hardcover, leather-bound copy of Pride and Prejudice. 

“If that’ll be all, do you need me to help you find your way back?” 

“What–Are you just assuming that this is what I want to read? What about what I want?” You scoff at him in disbelief. 

“I’m not trying to offend, but I made a series of calculated judgments to decide what you’d be most fond of. Am I wrong?” He looks at you questioningly. 

“No, but I… Can I at least look at your other options? It infuriates me that you make all of these assumptions about me.” 

“Go right ahead and look, however, you’re mistaken. They’re not assumptions, they’re well-educated inferences.” 

“Oh yeah genius? What inference made you come to the conclusion that I would like Pride and Prejudice?” You wave the book in his face in agitation. 

“Let’s see. You have a college education which indicates that your reading level is above the national average, able to understand the complicated diction required from a period piece while also able to digest the overarching themes. You at one point held a job as an office-worker, though your freedom to choose and passion for work were taken away by Yang Jungwon, I’m assuming. You, much like Elizabeth Bennet, find yourself in a world that causes you to seek love outside of social conventions. You’re tenacious and strong-willed, hot-headed, and no-nonsense.” He pauses, looking at you. “Your willingness to defy rules and escape in the middle of the night also leads me to believe that you’re a hopeless romantic, though I can tell you’re smart enough to never go back to Yang Jungwon. Do my ‘assumptions’ yield correct?”

“Whatever. I’ll take the damn book,” you huff. You start on your heels and walk away from the irritating man. 

“You’re welcome!” He calls after you. “Let me know when you want my next recommendation!” You make a point to slam his door shut after and start the trek back to your room. 

On your way, however, you hear the click of a door behind you. You spin and see Woojin standing close. 

“Hello, little mouse. Are you lost?” 

“Oh, hello.” You say. “I was just returning to my room. I’ll be on my way.” You start walking again but feel his hand on your shoulder and your breath hitches, anxiety spiking. You don’t turn around. “Please don’t touch me.” 

“Wait just a moment,” he says. “I was wondering if you’d accompany me to my room?” You shake his hand off of your shoulder. 

“Please, I just want to be left alone.” You start walking again but your front is pushed harshly against the wall and you gasp, dropping the book in your hand. 

“Don’t be fucking rude,” he says. “I just wanted to talk.” You feel so small and vulnerable like this for what is now the third time in just three days. 

“You didn’t just want to talk,” you point out. “You invited me to your bedroom and won’t leave me alone.” 

“You need to learn your fucking place around here, little mouse,” he spits. He grabs your shoulders and pushes you back into the wall, hard. You can feel the wounds that Chan gave you yesterday hit the wall and you wince, still sensitive. You try to push back, but with one weak hand there’s not much force behind it. Woojin just laughs. 

“Woojin,” You hear a voice from behind say sharply. You whip your head around to see Felix, fresh from the gym and sweating from exertion. You sigh out a breath of relief when he shoots the other man a nasty look. “Let her go.” 

“Let her go? Are you going to cause a fight over this? You do remember Channie’s rules about us fighting, don’t you?” he sneers. Woojin smirks and doesn’t loosen his hold, instead pushing you harder against the cold wall. He’s not looking at you–he’s specifically watching for Felix’s reaction. 

You’re silent as Felix rolls up his sleeves. His jaw tenses and his eyes narrow, and you notice his tongue poking at the inside of his cheek in irritation. “I have a feeling Chris would take my side on this,” he says lowly. “I think you don’t want to push your luck.” 

“Want to bet?” Woojin grins, snaking an arm around your waist. His hand squeezes the flesh on your hips and you cry out. That is seemingly Felix’s last straw. 

You hear the sound of Felix’s fist cracking loudly against cartilage and Woojin lets out a shrill cry. He pushes you hard away from him and you stumble right into Felix’s arms. You peek over Felix’s shoulder to see Woojin clutching his face, blood pouring down his nose. Felix steadies you on your feet but leaves a protective hand on your shoulder, partially shielding you away from the man. 

“Fuck!” Woojin cries out, cradling his face. “That bitch isn’t even fucking worth it! She probably won’t even put out, and she doesn’t know her place. I don’t know about you, but I won’t tolerate someone who has a blatant disrespect for me. She’s fucking rude and stuck up–Chan wouldn’t like someone like her anyways.”

“Is that right?” The three of you turn around to see Chan standing in one of the doorways, leaning partially on its frame. His arms are crossed and his expression is devilish. 

“Chan!” Woojin says anxiously, his voice cracking slightly. “How much did you see?” 

“I saw enough. My office, now. All of you. I’m calling a group meeting.”

“It’s not what you think, I just–” 

“Save it.” Chan interrupts. “I don’t want to hear it from you. You better be in my office in the next five minutes or you’ll regret it.” He turns on his heels and leaves promptly, leaving the three of you in the hall in silence. Not another word is exchanged, because Chan’s word is final. 

When you get to Chan’s office everybody starts piling in. Chan sits on one side of his desk in his large leather chair, his arms crossed with a disapproving glare. On the other side of his desk sits Jisung, who is nervously picking at his nails, and Hyunjin who shoots you a concerned glance. Leaning up against one wall are Changbin, Minho, Seungmin, and Jeongin, who don’t really acknowledge your presence. To the right of Chan’s desk are empty seats for you, Felix, and Woojin. 

“Woojin, first I want you to explain what happened,” Chan says with a strong, sounding voice of authority. “I advise you to tell me the truth.”

“Y/N was talking shit about you!” Woojin accuses. You open your mouth to refute but Chan’s stern gaze shows that there will be no leniency if you do. “She was saying that you’re a bad leader, that you’re weak, and that you have absolutely no authority! I told her she was wrong, but she started to come onto me. She started getting touchy with me and when I refused her, Felix came out of nowhere and punched me right in the face, unprovoked.” In that moment you’re reminded of a kindergartener tattling on the teacher to get his way. You glance at Felix who almost unperceivably tenses at Woojin’s words but regains his composure just as fast. 

Chan nods his head, listening carefully. His face is devoid of emotion, leaving you unable to figure out if he believed the man’s words. “Felix,” he says. He provides no further explanation, wordlessly giving the man the opportunity to tell his side of the story. 

“Changbin and I were working out in the gym,” he starts. “I had watched her and Hyunjin pass by a few minutes before, so I had it on my radar to make sure she made it back to her room okay. When I came outside looking for her, Woojin was starting to touch her. She asked him to stop and he continued to push her. I intervened and he grabbed her.” Felix pauses to think. “Woojin was acting out to provoke me, if I were to guess.” 

“Alright,” Chan answers, crossing his arms. “So, I have two different sides to the story, which means one of you is lying to me. That’s a punishable offense. Y/N, I want you to think very carefully about what really happened before you answer.” 

You gulp. “Felix–” you glance at the man sitting next to you, the epitome of calm. 

“Don’t look at him, look at me,” Chan says harshly. 

“Right, uh… Felix is right. Um, Woojin started touching me and I asked him to stop. I was on my way back to my room and he cornered me and made me uncomfortable and Felix helped me.” You look right into Chan’s eyes the entire time you speak.

As you look around the room you see wide eyes staring at you. You feel a heat crawl up your neck from the attention as Han and Jeongin look at you with sad eyes. 

“Chan, they’re lying!” Woojin stammers. He’s wringing his hands together nervously. “They’re conspiring against me, I swear! I know Felix is your right-hand man, but you need to trust–” 

“Enough!” Chan stands up, knocking his chair back and staring Woojin down. “I don’t need to trust you, nor do I need to trust anybody in this room. But I do. I have hand-selected and picked each and every one of you because you are necessary to me and to what we do around here. That’s the way that I run my business. Not only do I expect the truth from all of my members,” he says, looking around the room, “but I require it. I saw the entire scene. That is why, Woojin, I am going to punish you. Because I do not tolerate lying, nor the blatant disrespect from my team. You will be given a second chance, for which you should be very grateful, but I’m afraid now that I will have to remind everyone in this room what it means to cross me.” 

Woojin looks stunned, unable to speak as he looks at Chan in awe. 

“Do you have a least favorite finger?” Chan asks, reaching into the drawer of his desk. He pulls out a long slender butchers knife and places it on his desk. Woojin laughs lightly, incredulous. 

“Did I say something funny? Because I believe I asked if you have a least favorite finger. If not, I’ll pick one for you. I don’t know if you’ll like my choice,” he ponders. “Perhaps I’ll choose your left ring finger, to let any future spouse you have know that you’re nothing but a dirty rotten liar–” 

“Pinkie! I choose my pinkie,” Woojin stammers. Chan gestures to his desk with his head, prompting Woojin to put his hand palm-down on its center. 

You look around the room, a lump forming in your throat. He was joking, right? Surely, he wasn’t going to–

“FUCK!” Woojin cries out. The scene went by so fast that you’re not even sure you know what really happened. Chan’s arm had extended upwards, and lightning fast he swung down the knife with precision, severing Woojin’s pinkie with one swift blow. Blood spurted from the wound, spluttering onto the desk, Chan’s face, and all over Woojin’s shirt. You didn’t get a good look at the gruesome looking appendage, now cradled inwards to Woojin’s body. You also didn’t realize that the tears were streaming down your face until it was too late. 

Chan takes a rag and wipes down the knife and his desk, then chucks the blood-stained rag and pinkie finger into a small desk trash can. 

“This is a gentle reminder that Y/N is necessary to us and our mission against Yang Jungwon. At this moment, she belongs to me, which means that if anybody makes a comment or touches her without either her or my consent, you will be punished. You are all dismissed.” Chan walks out of the office, leaving the rest of you behind. 

You feel nauseous and you wonder if you’re going to upchuck your breakfast. The casual display of violence reminds you just of the person that Bang Chan is and it doesn’t put you at ease. 

You stand up and begin to walk to your room before you hear a voice call your name. You turn around and see Felix, and instead of feeling comforted by his presence you run to your room faster and slam the door. In the privacy of your own room you allow yourself to sob heavily into your pillow. This is the life that you have somehow gotten yourself stuck in. These are the people that you are surrounded by. 

You’re not sure how long you stay like that until your sobs turn into hiccups, which inturn morphs into ragged breathing and you drift off to sleep. 

When you wake up, somebody's knocking on your door. It’s almost dark outside now, and you’ve slept almost the whole day away. 

Jeongin is standing outside of the door, a member that you haven’t talked to at all yet. He has boyish copper hair that frames his face stylishly and wears a pair of dark-framed glasses that suits his complexion well. His crescent, downturned eyes give him the appearance of a fox with a matching grin. He looks at you with a sheepish smile before talking. “Um… dinner is ready.” The thought of sitting at a table and being around everybody again, pretending as if nothing has happened makes your stomach churn. 

“I’m sorry, not hungry. Thanks,” you say. You go to shut the door in his face, not meaning to be rude but at least harsh enough to come across as stern, but his foot lodges in the door frame, keeping you from closing it all the way. He sighs. 

“I’m really sorry,” he says, and by the look on his face, you believe that he really is apologetic. “Chan says your presence is required.”

You follow him dejectedly to the kitchen in silence. 

That night you eat dinner surrounded by only seven of the nine members. Lee Know is now gone, having left on his mission, which makes some of the others appear more tense. The other absence has you sighing a breath of relief, because Woojin is not there. You sit in between Jeongin and Jisung this time. Not much conversation is had, and you certainly don’t look Chan in the eyes for the entire meal. 

When you return to your room that night, Pride and Prejudice is sitting on your bed. The book had been discarded and forgotten about amidst the disaster earlier, and its presence is oddly comforting. When you crack it open, a note falls out and onto your floor. In neatly written cursive, it reads: 

“Like Elizabeth Bennet, you are strong. Enjoy. –H.”

The message makes you scoff because at the moment you feel anything but. The last few days have made you feel so weak, small and powerless. You hate feeling like that, and this realization makes you think, maybe you do have something to thank Hyunjin for after all, despite how absolutely frustrating he has been. 

You are going to get stronger. 

─ ⋅ ⋅ ⋅ ──── ♡ ─── ⋅ ⋅ ⋅ ──

taglist: @shuporanporang ; @purp13st4r ; @eurydiceofterabithia ; @heartsbyandra ; @thicccurls ;

@rylea08 ; @the-sweetest-rose ; @oddracha ; @kapelover ; @goldenmellow ;

@zerefdragn33l ; @uhh-awkward-rightt ; @astudyoftimeywimeystuff ; @kaleigh-2002 ; @thatonexcgirl ;

@mindfreecreator ; @linoalwaysknows ; @velvetmoonlght ; @minahaeyo ; @crystalchuuu ;

@hash2013 ; @skzswife ; @b0bbl3s ; @thecutiepieme ; @bear8585 ;

@moss-the-man ; @softkisshyunjin ; @sylveonitesworld ; @m00njinnie ; @nicoleparadas ;

@starsofasteria ; @klopez01 ; @luvlinos ; @hyunjinnnnnnnnnnnnnn ; @skz-akira ;

@boi-bi-ahaha ; @l33bang24 ; @Hermione640 ; @Gal821

[loventian]

Touchstarved character name meanings!

Lemme preface this by saying I’m not a name meanings expert I just love crawling through google pages and over analyzing things ALSO to make sure the results weren’t influenced by fandom everything here is from pre-2020! With that let’s get into things!

Mhin:

Mhin is a little bit tricky, as I can’t find anything for their name spelled as it is. Min, however, has several different sources and meanings.

In Chinese, Min (敏) meanings “quick, clever, sharp” Which seems rather fitting for our neighborhood soulless hunter. An alternative script for Min (民) translates to “people, citizens” which could have some interesting implications, as Mhin is implied to have strong connections to the city of Lovent.

In Burmese Min means “king, ruler” which, connected with the second Chinese translation, could perhaps be some foreshadowing? We don’t know how Mhin is connected to Lovent, but the city must have had a ruling class, perhaps Mhin held a position of power? It could also be why they survived, and which a powerful curse nonetheless

Finally, in Irish Min is said to mean “smooth, fine, small”, though I can’t find as many sources on this one. I include it because people have pointed out Mhin’s cloak pins are triquetra, which are Celtic symbols.

Kuras:

Please know I adore Kuras when I say this, but he really got the short end of the naming stick it seems. The most promising thing I can find is the usage as a Hindi surname, which doesn’t seem to have a meaning listed. If you remove the S and go with Kura, it can mean “river” in Turkish or possibly “fierceness, tiger” in Japanese.

Now here’s the silly translations! In Arabic, Kuras (كراس) seems to translate to brochure. In polish, it translates to chicken.

I truly doubt the devs thought brochure/chicken were good labels for the dear doctor, so I’m favoring the Turkish translation. Mostly because Eridia is a city divided by a river; could there be something deeper hidden in there? Maybe!

Ais:

So clearly Ais has a lot of Japanese influence, with his design being inspired by Oni, so I looked for those possible translations first. Ai (愛) translates to love in Japanese, and is typically used as a broader term to refer to emotions tied to like compassion, empathy, or platonic forms of love (as opposed to 恋/koi which refers to romantic love).

I’m gonna focus on this translation for a bit. Someone on a translation forum phrased it in a way I really love: “Ai” is something you do or give. Ais is our introduction to the Seaspring, and to groupminds in general. While the concept of a hivemind is usually used in horror as a way of taking away agency, the Seaspring is framed as a refuge for people to turn to. Could Ais’ name be an allusion to a goal he keeps hidden? Is the Seaspring a manifestation of a desire to give love despite the violent world? Or am I just reading into this too deep?

Vere:

Vere actually has a straight up name meaning! Most of the sources I found say that Vere is a French/Gaulish name meaning “Alder”, and it usually pops up in the surname “De Vere”. Alders are a kind of bitch tree, and I have no idea how that tie into Vere as a character.

But if we take “Vere” as a word rather then a name, then Latin translates it as meaning “truly, really, actually, rightly”. Vere’s introduction to us is as someone to not trust, a cunning fox waiting for the next meal, stealing our darn room key and lying about it! So I find it really interesting that his name could be a word for truth. Perhaps before his chains Vere was someone a lot more truthful ?

Leander:

Big shout out to Leander for having a plain ass easy to translate name. I’ll give you googles exact definition here: "lion of a man", from leon, "lion", and andros, "man".

That was easy, so now let’s pick it apart!

Traditionally, lions are symbols of nobility, courage, strength, and protection. Leander has a reputation for being That Guy; he’s a leader, a protector of the masses, etc etc. for all intents and purposes, Leander really is a lion of a man!

…On the surface at least. Because under all the symbolism, lions are still predators, no matter how noble.

[bamboobooshark]

Logan Howlett x GN!Reader where the reader is a somewhat introverted person that has a passion for drawing, and when Logan asks to see one of their drawings, the reader shows them a drawing of a Wolverine (the animal :3)??

LOGAN HOWLETT • 🎨

“It’s nothing!” || 1.1K Words || P.G. Rating || Fandom: Marvel (X-Men)

Author’s Note: Okay this is probably one of the CUTEST requests I have ever gotten! I’m also an introverted artist, so this might be somewhat self indulgent… Anyway! Thank you so, so much for the idea anon! I love it <3

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CONTENT WARNINGS: Reader is able-bodied, Reader is pretty shy but not excessively, Logan drives a truck instead of a motorcycle in this fic, use of the pet names bub and darling, speeding in a car (no harmful intent/consequences).

Logan knocks on the doorframe with a soft smile on his face. “Hey, bub,” he greets before jingling his car keys and raising a brow. “Wanna head to the book store with me? I don’t got anything else to do today. I thought it’d be nice to take you out somewhere,” he proposes in a knowing tone. You nod your head yes—of course you agree to go! He’s known you too well for too long. You raise your eyebrows and let out a low whistle before turning to your bedside table. “Let me grab something really quick,” you tell him. He hums in acknowledgment while walking away from the door. “I’ll go get the truck started. The weather out there isn’t the best right now,” he calls out to you before the door shuts behind him. You’re quick to pick up your bag and pack it with whatever you need, including your sketchbook and some materials to draw. You smile to yourself as you get an idea of what to draw while you and Logan relax at the bookstore. You zip up your bag and walk down the hall, then outside to Logan’s truck.

“Got everything?” he asks. You nod your head and mumble a soft “yep,” the hum of the engine almost silencing your voice. Logan pulls the stick and reverses the vehicle while looking over his shoulder. You snicker, and the man groans. “What’s so funny? Did I do somethin’ stupid?” he questions while shifting to drive. You shake your head while covering your mouth. “You always look behind you when you pull out as if anyone lives close to us,” you explain in a half-sigh, half-laugh. Logan chuckles softly as he begins to make his way to the bookstore. “Pfft. Alright. I’m just trying to make sure I don’t hit any trees. This baby might be paid off, but I plan on keeping her as long as I can,” he tells you. You exhale deeply as you cross your arms to your chest.

After a few minutes of somewhat awkward silence, you state the obvious: “It’s way too quiet in here.” Logan hums in agreement as he gently taps the leather of the steering wheel. You pick up your bag from the floor of the truck, unzip it, and pull out your small CD holder. “I’ve got a few burned CDs with our favorite songs. What are you in the mood for?” you ask sweetly. The mutant looks at you and shakes his head before focusing his attention on the road once more. “Oh, please. You should know this by now,” he teases. You roll your eyes at him and pick the one that has “LOGAN’S ‘DAD’ ROCK” written in sharpie. You put it in the player and go through the songs before he pushes your hand away. “Ah, ah. No. We’re listening to this,” he states in a slightly stern tone. It’s one of his favorite songs that you catch him singing or humming while you make dinner for him: Self Esteem by The Offspring. You lift your hands up to your chest in defense while widening your eyes. “Alright, old man. We’ll listen to it,” you groan despite enjoying the song yourself. You and Logan both get into the lyrics and find yourself relishing in the moment. The windows are down, he’s driving almost 10 over with barely any other cars on the road, the music is blasting, and the wind in your face feels so amazing.

Eventually the two of you arrive at the large bookstore. You pop the CD out of the player and put it back in the case as Logan parks and turns off the truck. He walks over to the passenger side and opens the door for you as you finish zipping up your bag. “Thank you, kind sir,” you say in a fancy accent. He smiles at you as you take his hand to step out. “But of course, darling,” he says in an equal manner. The two of you share a snicker before approaching the double doors of the bookstore. You’re both hit with the memory-filled atmosphere of the shop; the scent of wood, carpet, and fresh paper, the soft chatter scattered around, and the sound of clinking dishes at the café. Logan releases a deep sigh before his eyes set on you. “I’ve got a bit of extra money,” he says in a bit of a whisper. You look at him with a wide smile, grabbing onto his hand tightly as he walks with you towards the café. “How ‘bout you go find us a spot, bub?” he asks as the both of you enter the line. You nod softly while turning to go find somewhere to sit. You look around carefully, anxiously sticking to Logan’s side until you find a cozy corner area. Once your gaze settles on it, you make a plan in your head on how to get there without moving behind people, tripping, or being in someone’s way. You carefully make your way over and sit down. Logan looks over at you and shoots you a half smirk as you give him a thumbs up.

About five minutes later, your scruffy partner comes over holding a sweet treat in two waxy-looking brown bags. “Got us a little treat. Hope ya’ like it,” he says. He sits next to you and sets your bag in front of you before opening his own. He got the two of you delicious, glazed croissants. You guys have been getting them for the longest time, despite Logan saying he’ll surprise you with whatever he orders for you. You look at him and smile sweetly. “Awe! Thank you, Logan. I really do appreciate when you get me sweet things like this,” you slightly ramble. He hums in acknowledgment before lifting your hand to kiss it, causing you to blush. He chuckled as he felt your flesh warm and saw the way you froze up.

Once the croissants were long gone and thoroughly enjoyed, Logan sat next to you while scrolling through his phone. You, on the other hand, were drawing a little something for your partner. You hummed softly as your pencil skipped across the page to create a picture. Logan raised his brow suspiciously upon seeing your goofy smile. “What’re you drawin’ there, bub?” he asks as he sets his phone on the table. You shrug and chuckle softly. “It’s nothing! I promise,” you tell him shyly. He doesn’t falter and tilts your sketchbook down. “Let me see this,” he mumbles as he looks down at it. “What is that thing?” he asks with furrowed brows. His eyes look to you in search of an answer, and you fidget with your hands. “It’s a—a wolverine,” you whisper. He fixes his posture before wrapping an arm around you, pulling you closer, and kissing the top of your head. “I love it, bub,” he whispers in return. You blush once again as he displays his affection for you in the comfy corner of the café.

[raainberry]

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.”

———

epilogue if you want

@cry4mina thank you for supportively bullying me to finish this i hope you liked it

[chimielie]

cw f!reader , mild fraternal violence , atsumu’s terrible lying skills

“I know something you don’t know,” Osamu singsongs, standing in the doorway of their shared bathroom and peering over his brother’s shoulder at his reflection in the mirror.

“Yeah?” Atsumu grunts, yanking a comb through his hair and glaring back at his twin. “Spit it out, shitty ‘Samu. I got places to be, you know?”

“Ouch, don’t shoot the messenger,” Osamu drawls, leaning against the doorframe. “I know that you have a date tonight and you think you’re being sneaky about it.”

“Do not,” Atsumu scowls immediately, dropping the comb and turning around, because he is the worst liar ever. “I don’t even—what are you—I’m taking myself on a date, how about that, it’s called self care, ever heard of it? Huh? Okay? Huh?”

“Okay,” Osamu says, “You’re wearing a tie.”

“I can wear a tie if I want to,” Atsumu sneers, fiddling with it.

“Last summer, at Uncle Jun’s wedding, Ma had to literally threaten to shave your head to get you to wear one.”

“I’m a man now,” Atsumu sticks his chin up, examining his jaw. “I can wear a tie. Hey, did I miss anything while I was shaving?”

“You don’t have any facial hair to shave. And you have a hickey right there.”

“What? Seriously? Where?” Atsumu panics, turning back and forth.

“Ha, I got you—hey!!! Don’t hit me, asshole! I’ll tell Ma!!! And you—you left your fucking bouquet out on my desk, by the way. I told you to stop putting your stuff—no I swear I’ll kill you get offa me get off!—on my desk just because yours is too messy!”

“It was there for five seconds! You left all your laundry on my bed the other day—“

“Where was I s’posed to put it, the floor?”

“Your closet!” Atsumu roars. “Oh, shit, what time is it?” He drops his brother’s shirt collar abruptly.

“5:30,” Osamu says, dusting himself off. “What time you gotta be there?”

“She’s walkin’ over here now, probably,” Atsumu says, rushing back to the bathroom. “Fuck, well since you know, can I use your cologne?”

“It’s the same one you have?”

“It’s better, I don’t know,” Atsumu argues. “Just gimme it, it’s like one spritz.”

“Fine,” Osamu grumbles. “Hey, ‘Tsumu, I know something else you don’t know.”

“What,” Atsumu rolls his eyes as he walks around, frantically shoving his keys and wallet into his pockets, picking up the bouquet—delicate red and white flowers, not bad, scrub, thinks Osamu.

“This ain’t your first date,” he says smugly.

“What are you, Sherlock Holmes?” His brother says. “How d’you figure that?”

Osamu mock-stretches before counting off on his fingers. “One, you never walk home with me and Suna anymore. Two, there’s some flowery shit that appeared in our shower, and I know I didn’t buy it, and you’re not walkin’ around smelling like lavender and honey, so you’ve gotta be sneakin’ someone in. Three, you came to practice two weeks ago with an actual hickey, y’know, when you kept missing sets ‘cause you were in such a good mood.”

Atsumu blinks at him, finally lost for words.

“And,” Osamu says, tone somewhat gentler. “You seem a lot happier lately. Less, y’know, hard on yourself. Whoever it is, I think she’s good for you.”

“Thanks,” Atsumu says, swallowing roughly. “You’re so sappy.”

“Says the guy holding the flowers.” And trying not to let his eyes water over, but Osamu doesn’t say that bit. He can spare some of his brother’s dignity.

“It’s our six-month anniversary,” Atsumu says quietly. “Please don’t tell Ma yet, okay? She’s always on about volleyball bein’ enough of a distraction from school, I know she thinks dating is too. I just wanna—I want her to like my—”

He says your name just as the doorbell rings.

“Her? You’re dating—?” Osamu’s tone is incredulous. “Hold on, you can’t go yet. She’s like a million times out of your league—”

“I know!” Atsumu beams at him. “Keep your mouth shut or you’ll regret it. Tell Ma I’m sleeping at the dorms with Suna. Bye!”