#starring the sexiest man of them all

[bigtittiecomitte]

AIN’T NO WAY I SAW SOMEONE SAYING THEY DIDN’T LIKE THE FNAF MOVIE BC THEY WANTED GORE JUST LIKE THE VHS TAPES

NO FUCKING WAY

VHS TAPES?!?

THE FANMADE GOOFY VHS TAPES?!?

Bro the games didn’t even have gore unless you count the springlock bit in fnaf 3 and the bite of 83 but that’s just pixelated blood lol

Ngl I didn’t really expected it to be that scary lol in fact I expected it to be goofy bc I mean…have you seen the franchise, it’s so silly if you like not count the child murder lmao

Clearly no one knows abt Scott and his habits of tricking people

Literally half of the people criticising it aren’t even fnaf fans or they just like it bc it suddenly got popular (nothing wrong with that but if they’re the type to shit on fnaf and suddenly switch up like no thanks)

#five nights at freddy's #fnaf #it’s a pg 13 movie #for reasons #anyways uh watch the silly animatronic movie #starring the sexiest man of them all #Shaggy from the hit movie Scooby Doo #oh and Josh Hutcherson #he’s not sexier than Shaggy tho

[kitchen-spoon]

90’s au where Eddie is a porn star who hires Steve to be his child’s nanny to watch them while he works or has to fly away for a few days for work.

Eddie is popular because of his dark aesthetic, people are really into all the black clothes, the rings, crazy long hair, tattoos and piercings. He is also popular because he works with women and men and is know for it.

Steve and Robin had just moved to New York for Robin’s college and because Steve goes wherever she goes. They apply for jobs and are desperate so they even go to the library and reply to ads on Craigs list. That is when Steve sees a posting for someone looking for a nanny for their 2 year old daughter. It was basically a 9-5 almost everyday with extra pay for overnight weekend stays too. It seemed to good to be true but Steve applied anyway, what could the harm be?

That ad is how Steve met Eddie, the sexiest most confident man he’d ever met. He was so smooth and flirty and open about his job away from the small ears of his daughter who just knew daddy was a model. He’d toy with Steve, batting his big brown eyes, biting his lip and smirking at him during the small moments where their schedules would cross over and they’d see each other.

Eddie couldn’t help himself, he got bolder with time moving to leaning into Steve’s space to catch a whiff of his Cologne, fleeting touches just so he could feel the firmness of Steve’s muscles under his fingertips. Steve was exactly Eddie’s type, shorter than him and built with the sass and attitude of someone twice his size. He was a tan hairy Italian dream, and Eddie would do anything to taste that cross Steve wore around his neck. He couldn’t help but imagine the brunette oiled up, laying in the sun in the tinest little speedo, his perfect brown hair glowing.

The tension grows between them with each passing month, not helped by how much Eddie’s daughter loves Steve and how much it melts Eddie’s heart to see how gentle and sweet Steve is with her. It all comes to a head one night 5 months after Steve is hired. Steve does his usual stalling so he can stick around and flirt with Eddie before he leaves, relishing in the touches Eddie will give him. He gives in that night and agrees to stay for a glass of wine. They sit on Eddie’s couch, closer than anything that could pass as casual. Their knees were touching and Steve was leaned right in Eddie’s space, arm resting against the back of the couch as he looked up through his lashes while Eddie spoke. He was so distracted that he didn’t notice his wineglass slowly tipping over in his hand until it spilled all over his and Eddie’s laps.

They cleaned up in the kitchen, Steve blushing as Eddie called him sweetheart and hoisted him up on to the counter like he weighed nothing. Eddie dabbed at Steve’s pants, slowly moving up until he was pressing directly over the growing bulge in Steve’s pants. And then Steve couldn’t take it anymore. He shoved Eddie’s hands away and slid his own into Eddie’s hair, yanking him forward so he could finally know what that tongue piercing felt like. Eddie didn’t let Steve have control for long, and they ended the night with Steve bent over the marble counter tops Eddie’s fingers shoved in his mouth to shut him up.

#eddie munson #steve harrington #steddie #stranger things ships #steve x eddie #stranger things #stranger things one shot #robin buckley #famous eddie munson #steddie drabble #steddie prompt

[slamminslamminmcgill]

joel’s pussy eating game is RIDICULOUS!!!!! he claims to be into servicing ppl and he is but…. it’s more in service of himself tbh bc of how selfish and hungry he is

warning: squirting, oral, rimming

anatomical terms: cunt/pussy, clit/t-dick

he’ll start slow to ease you into it. long, broad strokes of his flattened tongue up your slit. wet kisses dotting your clit. lots of spit to get you nice and wet for his tongue to just glide along your cunt however which way he sees fit.

and once your own juices start to flow, loosening you up for him, it’s blood to a shark. one drop hits his tongue and he’s GONE.

“fuckin’ christ, you taste good. yeah… yeah, i need more of that.”

joel smushes his face into your pussy, his stubble prickling your hypersensitive skin, and he fucking LATCHES his mouth on your clit, bouncing his lips off your sodden flesh as he sucks you off. soon you’re leaking enough that he can slide two fingers into you with ease. he curls them up into your g-spot and keeps them there, pushing your button over and over to get you to burst.

and may god help you if you squirt.

it splashes against his face and you hear a deep, rumbling, feral growl. it’s the sexiest sound you’ve ever heard from a man. one that reminds you of our basest urges, that we are naught but beasts at heart. horny fucking beasts possessed by pheromones and need.

“fuck yeah, c’mon. c’mon, gimme another.” he demands, starting his fingers right back up again, right into the swollen trigger point that has you gushing over and over. a firm hand cuts through the typhoon with a loud-

(SMACK)

on the meat of your ass.

“sit on my face. i wanna drink you.”

you peel yourself off his leather couch, knees buckling like a newborn fawn as you stand, and hobble over to where he’s laying on the carpet. he’s frantic, aggressive and repetitive in his orders.

“get over here... get over here, boy... get over here…”

your knees flank his head, facing his legs, and you lower yourself down until your pussy bumps his nose. he starts licking right away. you look down and his cock is throbbing, an angry shade of red. being that he’s been so generous to you, you see fit to return the favor. you lean down and take his cock in your hands, though you barely get to kiss it before joel intervenes.

“nope.”

he hooks his arms under your armpits, grabs you by the shoulders, and YANKS you backwards, pulling your face away from his cock and holding your back upright.

“nuh uh. fuck my face. i want you to use me. don’ worry ‘bout my cock, sweetheart, just fuck my face.”

you hesitantly hump his face, tiny jerks of your hips to get used to the feeling and get a rhythm down. as you grow accustomed to it, your soaked cunt easily glides across his face, your swollen t-dick bumps his lips and he sucks it in his mouth. his tongue swipes between your pussy and ass, your juices dripping down his cheeks.

eventually, you squirt again, just a tiny bit.

but it’s not enough.

“give it to me.” joel barks, and shoves his fingers back in for some not-so-gentle encouragement. “c’mon, kid, give it to me. squirt down my fuckin’ throat, c’mon. lemme drink you. gimme somethin’ sweet to drink, baby boy.”

you give him exactly what he wants, squirting right into his mouth in hot jets. his growl vibrates your entire cunt and he slurps it all up.

when it gets to be too much, you roll off him and onto the floor. the two of you lay side by side, gasping for air. his face is dripping, his wet hair resting on an incriminating wet spot on the carpet. you’re staring at the ceiling as it swirls, creating beautiful constellations in combination with the stars in your vision. joel reaches out and tugs you close to him. his overworked lips smooch your forehead, and he says,

“good boy. hottest thing i’ve ever seen in my fuckin’ life.”

#shoutout to dilf irl for the inspiration 💖😌 mwah #joel miller #joel miller x reader #joel miller headcanon #joel miller smut #joel miller imagine #tlou #tlou x reader #tlou smut #the last of us x reader #the last of us smut #the last of us

[ttodorokiii]

animal (m)

synopsis. Bakugou can be an animal when it comes to fucking you sensless.

warnings. explicit sex, kissing, unprotected sex [BE SMART IRL AND WRAP IT!] biting, obsessed bakugou, he is so lovesick :((, but he’s very horny, rough sex, he fucks you between a door n him, strong bakugou, borderline yandere bakugou 😵‍💫🫡

note. hihi I’m back! Plz send asks because I missed y’all so much n also warning, this is messy n cringe. PLZ SEND THIRST ASKS ANYTIME OR JUST ASKS TALK TO MEEEEE! share feedback!

*not edited*

Katsuki has no self control when it comes to you.

You are irresistible to him, he is so helpless when it comes to you. What is it about that gets him so hot and bothered, just one look at you? He’s hard.

You get him so horny without doing anything at all, you’re washing dishes? He’s mesmerised by you, with the way your hands work, the way you’re so focused on doing them.

It gets him. He feels so dumb, he should feel disgusting at himself for being so horny about the most normal things you do.

It’s disgusting, but he can’t control it. You’d be so embarrassed if you could hear his thoughts, you’d leave him.

He’s so addicted to fucking you, feeling you in the deepest and most intimate way he can, your lips, your nose, your damn e/c eyes, that seductive gaze you give him.

You’re the most sexiest woman he’s ever laid his eyes on,

If only people knew just how much of a whore their beloved number two hero, dynamite is for his woman. They’d find him pathetic. He doesn’t give a single fuck though.

You are his. He could fuck you forever and he wouldn’t get tired. God, he loves you so much.

Katsuki isn’t good with words or let alone expressing his feelings out loud, he is obsessed with you, he’s so crazy for you but he is unable to express it.

Unless it’s through intimacy.

So that’s why he’s pounding into you like a dog in heat, breathing so loudly into your ear as you yelp, breathless, his large palm holding the back of your neck so you’re looking straight into his wild ruby eyes, clouded with love.

“Fuck! love you s’much princess!” Bakugou confesses into the shell of your ear, his voice rough and husky, you can’t respond because the high of the pleasure is too much for you to handle. He knows your body so well.

He knows your spots. Your man knows how to fuck you so good, you whimper, your nails scratching on his skin, he’s so strong, holding your legs effortlessly when you lose yourself into him.

He feels so good inside you. You’re sure you see stars right now.

He pounds into that spot once again and you moan out loud, digging your nails once again into his flesh. Bakugou moans too, it spurns him on more, the man is a stallion, holding you in place while rutting into you feverishly.

“S-So good, suki!” You praise your husband. Bakugou grands your nipple and gives it a gentle pinch, driving you insane.

“My baby, fuck… love you so fucking much.” He presses his lips impatiently to yours, his kiss is passionate, swallowing your breath.

“‘m gonna fuck you so good because you deserve it baby, I love you so much.”

He is so passionate, so gentle yet rough. You could never get used to his touch truly, it still makes your skin ignite, just one touch and your body’s on fire.

“My princess.” He finally stops kissing you. “Hope you have the energy because we’re not going to sleep tonight.”

#bakugo smut #katsuki smut #bakugou smut #bnha #bnha fanfic #bnha x reader #mha #yandere bnha #yandere bakugou #yandere katsuki #bakugou x reader #bakugou x poc!reader #mha smut #bnha smut #yandere x reader #yandere smut #yandere mha #katsuki x reader

[diorthiya]

ASTRO OBSERVATIONS #3

• sun conjuct moon synastry is so overrated imo

• i know everyone and their mother says this but men that have taurus mercury have the SEXIEST voices ever. it’s like deep and comforting

• i feel like the house where your lilith is placed matters more than the sign itself

• it feels so liberating going from 12th house transits to 1rst house ones

• the sassy man award goes to men with more than 1 scorpio placement 😭😭 (especially mars and venus)

• venus square saturn is THE milf/dilf placement

• scorpio moons love hot showers (and orgasms🤭)

• virgo moons are quite the workaholics

• taurus risings are the sweetest people ever

• im always going through a 5th house transit when something exciting happens in my love life .

• natives with neptune in the 10th house tend to be an icon/star

• i’ve never met a loyal taurus venus person . they always got hoes 😀 but they’re possessive over all of them 💀

• this is just a theory but i think that your sun sign traits fully gets shown when you’re with someone that has their personal placements in your 8th house

• women with libra sun conjunct venus have low standards when choosing a partner. please stand up😔

• gemini placements attracting sagittarius placements is a never ending saga (and vice versa) but i love to see it

• men with aquarius venus are so fashionable

(this is purely based on MY observations and it doesn’t mean that it applies to YOU)

#aries #astro observations #astrology #cancer #capricorn #gemini #astro placements #aquarius #leo #horoscope #taurus #virgo #libra #astro posts #astro natal #astro notes #scorpio #sagittarius #pisces

[fettuccin-e]

As Long As I Want

so yeah i may have not posted a fic in two months and WHATABOUTIT no i'm kidding i'm really sorry for the little hiatus!! my pedro pascal obsession circa 2021 has relapsed and i'm terribly sorry lol so yeah pls enjoy this short little fic that is only about sucking frankie's dick

Tags: Frankie "Catfish" Morales x Reader, fem!reader, oral (m!recieving), size kink, deep throating, this is so nasty lol (w/c: 1.5K)

Francisco Morales is a pretty unassuming man. He’s tall and lumbering, but his patchy beard and ever-present baseball cap allow him to sink into the background of most things, which is exactly where he likes to be. He isn’t a standout, he knows that, and he’s plenty content with it. As long as you love him, he’s just fine.

And you do, god, you love him. You try to tell him constantly, try to express how fucking hot you find him, even if he shrugs you off with a shy chuckle and a blush on his scruffy cheeks. With his pretty dark eyes and soft hair, how he towers over you and how his broad chest presses against your back when he hugs you from behind, and when he fucks you from behind. Frankie is, by far, the sexiest man you’ve ever seen, and somehow, he’s yours.

And, as unassuming as he is, Frankie also has the fattest, biggest cock you’ve ever seen.

He hides it behind baggy jeans and boxers, but you pride yourself on being very, very familiar with it. It took the first six months of your relationship to take it all the way into your cunt, the thickness of it stretching you till you thought you were bound to break, the length of it bullying so deep you thought you would feel it in your fucking throat. Even now, four years later, you still need to be prepared thoroughly before taking Frankie, a process that he takes great joy in.

Frankie will spend hours between your thighs, sucking at your clit and fucking you open on his calloused fingers until you’re sobbing and shaking. He loves to pull your thighs apart when you try to close them, keeping you wide open and dripping for him. You beg for him to fuck you, that you’re ready, but Frankie also loves to ignore you, content to keep lapping at your twitching cunt, murmuring a, “quiet, princesa, I’m working.” You want to strangle him. 

You also love him so much that it hurts sometimes. 

He’s perfect, everything is perfect, except for the fact that, although he’ll spend an entire night eating your pussy like a man starved, he won’t let you return the favor. You can count the amount of times in four years that Francisco Morales has let you suck his cock on one hand, and you wouldn’t even use all of your fingers. Whenever you’re between his legs, working him between your lips, inch by thick inch, he always wrenches you off him with a grip in your hair, before he bends you over and fucks you until your pussy is gaping and your brain is mush.

But you know you’ve got him this time. His hands are bound with a silky scarf around the head board, the pinkness of his blush spreading down to his chest as he watches you with heavy eyes.

“Princesa, please, just- you can sit on my face, yeah? And do what you want to me, but baby, I just gotta...I gotta make you feel good, please?” he grunts with that deep voice of his, raspy and needy.

You kiss him softly as a reply, brushing a hand through his soft curls. “Frankie,” you whisper. “I want to suck your cock today. I told you that, baby, didn’t I?” Frankie nods tentatively. You grin at the way his lips part, big eyes watching you like you’ve hung the moon and stars, just for him. “Then you’re going to shut up and let me suck you as long as I want, you got that?”

Frankie nods again, and nearly whines when you pull away from his face, brushing your lips down, down. You lick over the softness of his stomach, around where his cock, throbbing and red and dripping, lays against it. You avoid sucking the sticky tip into your mouth right away, instead moving lower to bite at his quivering thighs. You can hear Frankie’s breaths growing louder, desperate for your touch. 

“Please, mi vida,” he whimpers, hips bucking up ever so slightly. His cheeks burn at the sound of his own desperation, but when you smile at him, almost shyly, at his words, it almost becomes worth it.

“Okay, Frankie,” you whisper, and he gasps when you move back up his body, ever so slightly, to lick hungrily over the length of his cock, moaning at the taste.

He groans deep in his throat at the feeling of your hot tongue trailing over the veins and crevices of him, memorizing every thick, throbbing inch. You make your way up until you reach the tip, and, with one final glance at Frankie, his pupils blown wide as he meets your gaze, you close your plush lips around the tip.

Frankie’s back arches, just a bit, off the bed when you suck hard on the tip of his cock, tongue dipping into the slit as you swallow everything he has to give. “Ah- oh God, oh God, por favor, baby,” he whines, not even knowing what he’s begging for from you.

But you know, you always know. 

You can’t exactly smile around Frankie’s cock, not with your mouth stretched as wide as it is around the girth of him, but it’s a near thing. You slide down the length of him, tongue running along every new inch you let into your pretty mouth, watching as Frankie’s eyes roll into the back of his head, soft stomach heaving with every labored breath.

You brace yourself with your nails digging into his thighs as you push down even further, the tip of him finally budging into the back of your throat, and though you try to swallow around it, you can’t help but gag a little.

Frankie’s eyes snap open at the feeling and sound, his body going suddenly still. “Baby, do you need to stop? Fuck, you can stop if it’s too much, we can just-” You shake your head gently, not daring to slide him out of your mouth just yet. “Okay, okay, mi vida,” he breathes. “Just, please, I don’t want to hurt you.”

You could never, you want to say, but your mouth is far too preoccupied. Instead, you push just a little further, shoving him just another inch into your drooling mouth.

Frankie never lets you do this, never lets you have your fill, and you’re drunk off the taste of him, eyes rolling into the back of your head at the tip lodges in the back of your throat. And even as it does, even as his fat cockhead makes you choke, you keep sinking down.

He slides deep into the length of your throat, forcing you to breathe through your nose. Your eyes are watering at the stretch of him, your nails digging little indents into his hairy thighs. You fucking love it.

Frankie loves it too, evidently. With every inch, he whines, crying your name in stuttered gasps. You just keep moving, bobbing your head up and down just slightly to get more and more of him in, until you finally, finally, reach the thick base of his cock, the wiry hairs tickling your nose.

“Oh God, fuck princesa, you’re so perfect. Shit, your mouth is so good, you- you’re so good to me, baby, oh fuck, no one’s ever gotten this far, I-I-” he gasps, head thrown back and eyes clenched shut.

Oh. Your head feels like it’s underwater, delirious with the fact that you’re the only one to ever do this for Frankie. The only one that can do this for him.

You gaze up at him, entranced by his sweat-slicked, heaving body, pretty and needy. He blinks his eyes open, looking down at you when you stop moving, utterly still with his cock buried deep inside your throat. You, all pretty with your cheeks flushed and eyes watery, lips stretched wide and sticky and utterly obscene. You gaze back, your stare unrelenting, and suddenly swallow hard around the entire length of him.

Frankie nearly screams at the feeling, completely unreal and new. “Ah- ah!”

And you just keep doing it, bobbing slightly while you milk him with your hot, wet throat. Overwhelmed tears are leaking down Frankie’s face, his hips hitching up just barely to meet the minute movements of your head.

“I- Princesa, I’m gonna- I can’t hold it, ‘m sorry, can’t- it’s so good, too good mi vida, I-”

Frankie tries to pull his hips back, but you hold yourself onto him, keeping him buried within you as he spills hot, sticky cum down your throat.

You keep sucking him, milking him as the last dregs of his orgasm die away, before finally pulling yourself off him.

“Good?” you whisper, you voice sounding raspy and fucking used.

Frankie’s eyes widen in shock. “Good? Holy fucking shit, baby,” he mutters, head thrown back to look up at the ceiling, as if to ask God is she being fucking serious right now?

“You untie me, right fucking now, princesa. I’ll show you how ‘good’ that was. Until you pass the fuck out.”

#i wanna suck his dick SO BAD #ill give him the sloppiest head of his life i stg #frankie morales x reader #frankie morales smut #francisco morales #frankie catfish morales #frankie x reader #triple frontier smut #triple frontier x reader #triple frontier x you

[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.”

———

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

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

[headintheclouds-posts]

🔞🔞🔞🔞🔞🔞🔞🔞🔞🔞🔞🔞🔞🔞🔞🔞🔞🔞

If he wasn’t holding you up right now your knee’s would of buckled beneath you.

He has you pressed up against the door, one hand supportively holding your ass and your leg is hitched up resting against his hip. His other hand is between your legs, fingers thrusting into you causing breathy whimpers to fall from your mouth.

“That’s a good girl”

You swallow hard in your throat in an attempt to not scream at the pleasure your currently drowning in. His slender fingers are curled into the right spot, never slowing down in pace.

“That feels so good” you hiss, hardly recognising your own voice.

“Harder”

He picks up his speed, jerking his hand further into your heat and bringing his thumb to your swollen bud which has been aching to be touched.

You buck your body in ecstasy, revelling in the feeling building up at the pit of your stomach.

You’re so close you can almost taste it, eyes squeezed shut as you focus on this moment, this delicious, earth shattering moment that has your head spinning.

His lips find their way to your neck and he suckles softly against your skin, causing another moan to escape your lips.

It’s only moments later that the feeling overflows and you finally reach your explosive climax, causing you to not only see stars, but also to feel at one with them, as if you have floated into space itself.

You cling to his shoulders as you slowly come down from your high, to scared to let go as you know your legs will fail you.

You finally lock eyes with the man in front of you who is supporting the sexiest smirk you have ever seen.

“Damn baby, if you came that hard from just my fingers, imagine how it’s going to feel when you have all of me”.

Your night was only just beginning.

#kpop scenarios #kpop smut #kpop hard thoughts #kpop hard hours #nct smut #nct dream smut #nct 127 smut #nct u smut #superm smut #nct hard hours #nct hard thoughts #nct dream hard hours #nct 127 hard hours #superm imagines #nct scenarios #mark lee #mark lee hard hours #mark lee smut #nct kpop #mark lee x y/n #mark lee imagines #nct fanfic #kpop #kpop reactions #kpop imagines #mark lee drabbles #mark lee x you #nct dream imagines #nct dream #mark lee scenarios

[blkgirl-writing]

Helloo! so I know you can romance the companions with any appearance, but I have a hard time imagining them actually choosing to being with a plus size person like myself.

Very indulgent, but do you have any thoughts about them being with a chubby partner? Perhaps a bit of fluff and spice?

Love what you do. writing for the ppl that fanfics often leave forgotten. You're awesome & I hope you have a great day today <3

I’m so happy you asked this, because actually, most of the companions I see loving thicker people and a few fairly exclusively liking bigger women (it’s Wyll) but here’s my headcanons for the baldurs gate 3 companions being interested in a chubby/fat tav!

Aatarion

Astarion is actually the only character I see maybe not loving chubby bodies all that much, but that's really for acended Astarion, since he becomes such a despicable and unapethetic person

But Astarion once he breaks free of cazador?

learns to be accepting and....kind?

He was always drawn to a very conventional type of beauty as he had to be fit into that mold for so so many years, so he kinda felt like he needed people to fit in that mold for him as well

He would start to find beauty in the smaller things in life that he was never able to before

Including bigger chubbier bodies

the comforts of plushness and something extra very much opposes his more thin and sharp body

like he actually likes hugging, he would ASK for a hug

to him hugging you is the embodiment of his freedom and enjoying non sexual things simply, without any motivation

Gale

I think Gale would find comfort in your body

Using as much of you as a pillow, cuddling and being able to be the big and little spoon

Any skimpy outfit would drive him wild, he'd get all flustered and kinda just be more near you?

Since he loves thighs the bigger the better, he won’t complain. He lowkey wants to be crushed by your thighs

Gale would find so much joy in so much ass and thighs in his face, his personal horny heaven

(TW E.D) If you have trouble eating he would cook for you and sit away from camp if it made you more comfortable. He'd take so much joy in making something you wanted to eat (END OF TW)

Gale stars at you a lot

And when you ask why he's staring, he always has a different reason

Somehow he always knows when to compliment you when you're feeling down

he will always find the best way to make you feel better and it's unique and special

"I love how your shoulders look when you're reading" or like "I just can't take my eyes off you when you smile, it lights up your whole face. All I want to do is make you smile til the end of our days" etc etc

Shadowheart

Lovely person but I do think she’d learn to love bigger bodies, I like to think Karlach was her sexual awakening to big women

But honestly I think it would only take some good titties for her to be convinced

I think she would love being smaller than you, and would absolutely wear your shirt/blouse around camp as a baggy dress

Especially to kind of brag about sleeping with you and you being hers and hers alone

She would basically exclusively want to sleep with her head resting on your thighs

many many nights were spent like that looking at the stars

honestly you'll need to ask her for compliments but she never fails to make you smile with them

"What? You want me to tell you how perfect you are? Or how beautifully your body looks in that tight dress? How much I want to take you to bed right now? I thought you already knew those things, but if you ask I'll say them a million times, til you believe it, and a few more times for good measure."

Wyll

Wyll is so sweet and so nice, he always compliments you and always hugs you in the best ways

he notices your insecurities and makes sure to compliment them and tell you how much he loves and appreciates those parts of you

He also just finds you the sexiest thing alive

he loves his partners bigger

I mean I've already said he's an ass man and he fully wants to be engulfed in that ass if possible and that just don't happen with skinner people

Wyll loves his comforts and his comforts is just ass on face tbh

he'd get real wild and very flirty drunk too

"Give me all of that ass" and "sit on my face and ride it like you mean it til the dawn breaks"

is also in love with your stomach and kisses it whenever your closing rides up or is exposed from the clothing itself being revealing or just short

when he's next to you he will always have his hand around your waist

Karlach

no matter what size you are Karlach can pick you up and swing you around like she's picking up a pillow so

she treats you absolutely no differently than a skinnier person, maybe she picks you up and swings you around more actually

she'd treat you kinda as a princess it's adorable

In my head, Karlach is obviously super muscley but also kinda chubby so like there'd be no reason to see you as anything but perfect and so beautiful

She is always snackin' on stuff, so she'd ask if you wanted any of the nibbles she found on the way

Karlach would wanna just sleep face down on your stomach so like you can decide if she actually does every single night or short rest or nah

and she'd randomly kiss your tummy while she laid on it just cause she wants to and she finally can kiss you and lay on you, and all the fun things she wanted to do for what felt like forever

Lae'zel

she sees someone as the bigger, the more strength

so immediately she'd be like ah yes, a worth lover able to take all intensities i give

She's definitely go harder on you in combat (during a certain romance scene) because of your size, and definitely give more during sex

Especially if you have bigger arms? she's a suckers for big arms

Lae'zel would cuddle like it was fucking wrestling

like you'd wake up with bruises and if you asked she'd be like, you can take all I give, therefore I will give you even more than I have

everything she does is intense of course but she will never baby you like she may someone smaller

she sees you so much as an equal and a strong fighter it's actually very cute and everyone is kind of shocked how much she likes you

----

Tag list, tell me if you want to be added!

@shyminnie07 @makers-breath @claryvoyantfray @black-sapphic

(Consider supporting me on Ko-fi)

#x reader #fluff #fanfiction #smut #gale of waterdeep #gale x reader #baldurs gate 3 #baldurs gate gale #baldurs gate x reader #headcanonn #baldur's gate 3 #baldur's gate iii #baldurs gate astarion #astarion x tav #astarion x reader #astarion x mc #astarion x you #chubby!reader #fat!reader #chubby #plus sized #shadowheart #laezel #wyll #gale #karlach #wyll ravengard #shadowheart x tav #shadowheart x reader #karlach x reader

[prolix-yuy]

Simulated

Pairing: Dieter Bravo x F!Reader Actress

Summary: You're a professional, which is why a sex scene with Dieter Bravo will be no problem at all. Now you just have to convince yourself to believe it.  

Word Count: 4.8k

Warnings: Explicit, 18+ MINORS DNI, descriptions of male and female bodies, simulated sex, grinding, fantasizing about sex, anxiety, lil bit of size kink, probably incorrect method for filming sex scenes but I'm using what I know and making up the rest. Don't do this for real, this is fantasy and Dieter is a filthy boy.

Notes: This leapt out of my brain and was enabled by the Discord besties. Dieter brainrot is setting back in but I doubt anyone's complaining. This may be the sexiest thing I've ever written without actual sex happening, but you all can be the judge of that.

Cross-posted on AO3

Midnight Alley Masterlist

Trembling on the verge of passing out is not how you wanted your first time in Dieter Bravo’s arms to be, but no amount of reprimands to your rebelling body have worked. 

It’s not him, far from it. Dieter had been nothing but gentlemanly since you came in for scene blocking. The director offered to have stand-ins while they adjusted lighting and staged the shots, but you boldly offered to come in anyways. It wasn’t your first shoot, but it was your first sex scene, and you wanted to impress the director with your no-nonsense attitude about it. 

All that confidence flew out the window when you came face to face with your scene partner, Dieter Bravo. Well aware of his aloof playboy nature, you didn’t expect his handshake to be so warm, the quirk of his smile to make your heart flutter, or for him to smell so strongly of eucalyptus. Apparently his agent mentioned you would be there for staging, and he decided to come in to test your chemistry. No issues there, your curious eyes roaming over his wrinkled cargo pants and threadbare sweater. He could be wearing nothing and you’d still melt into a puddle. Which, shockingly, wouldn’t be that far in the future.

Calm down, girl. Be professional.

To be fair, Dieter is fucking gorgeous, even under the bloodshot eyes and air of annoyance. His curls are even softer looking in person, heavy shoulders stretching his t-shirts and bulky forearms complimenting his thick thighs. Even the little pooch of a tummy makes you salivate. While your friends drool over Tom Hiddleston or Harry Styles, your heart beats fast for men who can crush you under their bulk. “Weighted blanket boys,” you like to call them, and Dieter wholly falls into that category. 

Which is why when you got the casting call for a bit part in the crime drama Midnight Alley, which Dieter had been co-starring in for three seasons, you leapt at the opportunity. Even if you didn’t get to share a scene, at least you could catch a glimpse, maybe say hello. That was surely worth the long hours. His proclivities for casual sex definitely didn’t fit into that plan. No sir. Definitely not.

It all became real when you got the pages. Your character was a one night stand, relegated to three scenes - the bar where you make eyes across a crowd, the tasteful sex scene (though only barely - tv ratings have really changed in the last twenty years), and the morning after when he leaves to go to a crime scene. The “gaze across the smoky dance floor” was easy enough; anyone with half a brain and a pulse would blush at Dieter’s intense stare, raised eyebrow, and sly grin, a signature of his questionable character. It raises goosebumps down your arms, his parted lips and the slip of his pink tongue resting just inside, the crinkle of his eyes when he knows he’s got you. If a man ever gave you that look you’d be in his bed in moments. 

Scratch that. Not just any man. Dieter’s the only one who could pull that off.

The blocking should have evened out your nerves, and in the moment you believed it did. Dieter was an absolute gentleman, even warmer than you hoped, as you waited to be called on set.

“Ever done a scene like this before?”

“First time. Can you tell?”

He thumbed through his thicker script.

“Wasn’t going to make you more nervous by pointing it out. But yes.”

You blew out a puff of air, making Dieter smirk even more as you crinkled your sheets.

“How do we…?”

“You know the direction?”

“Yeah, it seems…straightforward.”

“Well, today we’re just going to do the major movements - positions, angles, you know - and while they mark focus and shine a light directly up my asshole, we can talk.”

A burst of giggles pulled a wider smile onto his face, waiting for you to calm yourself.

“What do we talk about?”

“What’s comfortable for you. What would pull you out of the scene. What you’re open to. You’re our guest after all.”

So your afternoon was spent pantomiming the sex acts written for you and…talking. Which wasn’t supposed to be sexy, or like two hours of incredibly hot foreplay, but your body apparently didn’t get the memo.

“Anything you really don’t want me to touch? Besides the obvious,” Dieter asked, coming down from his hands to his elbows by your face. The tip of his nose brushed briefly against yours. A hairlight shifted in your periphery.

“My ribs are pretty ticklish,” you admitted, nodding to the assistant director Ramona when she moved on to the next setup. Scooping his hands behind your back, Dieter pulled you on top, showing how to sit a little further up on his stomach to fake the grinding. Unfortunately, the plush flesh against your core didn’t help with the ache.

“Here’s okay?” he asked, wrapping his hands just under your breasts, the tips of his thumbs barely grazing the swell. You nodded, body getting jolted again when the director Adiel asked for Dieter to scoot up the bed a few inches.

“My, uh…” you said, then stopped as you lost confidence. Dieter took his hands off your chest and laced them on his own. He looked up at you expectantly. “My…nipples are really sensitive, so I know I’ll have pasties on and everything, but, it’s like, uncomfortable if they get touched certain ways. So I just wanted to…warn you of that. It shouldn’t be a problem, just, ah, you know, just in case.” Your throat closed up, embarrassment at even saying anything crushing your tongue against the roof of your mouth.

“Thanks for telling me, I appreciate it.” Dieter patted your thigh and his smile was a little more tender than before. 

God, he really looked good underneath you.

“My skin’s sensitive too, scratches show up really clearly on it and it pisses off the cinematographer. So that’s the only thing we’ll have to watch out for there.” The shuffle of changing positions interrupts your conversation until you’re on your stomach with him pressed against your back.

“Sorry if I pop one too, it’s kind of par for the course with these. I’m good at keeping it under control for the most part.” You giggle into the pillow as he hovers over you. 

“My biggest advice?” Dieter murmurs, mouth close to your ear. You hum into the pillow. “Let yourself have fun. It’s not gonna feel natural, but that doesn’t mean it’s gotta feel cold. You won’t offend me if you go off script. I might too, if it feels right. If we’re having fun, the audience will too.”

The weight of his body bearing down on you drives any more anxieties out of your blissed-out brain.

The day of the sex scene comes quicker than you’d like, and the tender crush you’d been nursing for Dieter has become a panicked bird inside your ribcage. You’d spent the hours before preparing, mentally and physically with an indulgent morning routine, but nothing can stop your nerves when Dieter catches sight of you and gives a little wave. He’s in jeans and a black button-up, hair being artfully styled but sunglasses still on. One knee bounces in the chair but otherwise he looks cool as a cucumber. 

The sliver of golden chest you peep through the neck of his shirt sends you scurrying to your dressing room.

Everything leading up to the moment you step on set is distraction. Chatting with makeup, hair, props, with the fucking boom operator who looks just as confused as you are that you’re asking about good places to eat in the area. You talk with the intimacy coordinator, who gives you final notes on the scene. (“If Dieter makes you uncomfortable at all you give me The Eyes and I’ll correct him. No questions asked. I’ve worked with him for years, and I will cuss him out to his face.”) Eventually there’s no one left, and you’re standing alone clutching a water bottle to your chest when Dieter sidles up.

“Nervous?”

You almost jump out of your bathrobe. Which would suck because all you had on was a dark lace lingerie set, pair of pasties and the strange modesty patch protecting your lady bits. Sometimes seeing the behind-the-scenes really did erase the movie magic.

“Yeah, sorry. It’s a little more real now than the rehearsal,” you sigh, and Dieter’s bray of a laugh actually calms you. He puts a hand on your back and rubs firm, soothing circles that bring your heart back into an acceptable rhythm.

“You’ll do fine. And I’ve done this…eh, probably more times than it’s polite to mention. You’re in good hands.” He pulls off his sunglasses, treating you to rich brown eyes you could lose yourself in if you weren’t a professional, goddammit. 

“Close the set, please!” Ramona calls out, and the nonessential crew files out until it’s just you and Dieter and about eight other people who will be watching you writhe and moan. Taking in a deep breath and letting it out loudly, you shake your limbs and metaphorically gird your loins (since they already are pretty girded).

“Can I have actors on set please?” You stride up to the bed with as much confidence as you can muster, Dieter strolling up behind you. Now that he’s close he smells like fresh cotton and spice, a sharp shift from the earthier scents you’d been experiencing. Even a hint of mint from his breath, suddenly thankful you’d brushed and mouthwashed twice. 

“Positions for Scene 17.”

Yes, the first shot. Dieter would be hovering over you, kissing you as he pulls his shirt off. You would be in your bra and panties, slivers of your body visible in the frame but Dieter’s broad chest and unbuttoned waistband on display. Sliding the bathrobe off and placing it off camera, you arrange your limbs on the bed, hands shaking just a little now. Dieter stands at the foot, and if you weren’t about to simulate sex you’d swear he was devouring you with his heavy gaze.

Just getting into character. Breathe.

“Roll sound.”

“Speed.”

“Scene 17a, take one. Roll camera.”

“Rolling.”

“...Action.”

As the set drops to silence, you watch Dieter change from the slightly aloof but sympathetic actor to a brooding morally gray detective needing to bury his failures in a soft body. Despite your coaching, your eyes widen at the set of his jaw, how dark his eyes become when he wrenches off the offending button-up. He sinks to his knees between your thighs and hovers over you, hands pushed into the mattress on either side of your head. 

“Be good for me, yeah?” he husks, deeper and full of gravel. You nod, and he descends to crush your lips together. He urges your mouth open and works your lips together, but his tongue stays obediently behind his teeth. 

Fuck, for a second you forgot you were acting.

His hips dip, denim scraping along the inside of your thighs. He parts from your mouth with a gasp, forehead coming down to press against yours. He takes a deep breath, then…

“Cut! Reset.”

You blink slowly, Dieter already lifting back up to stand at the foot of the bed, rebuttoning his shirt. 

“Any notes?” he asks, voice so calm and clear you snap back to the reality of the situation. 

“When you’re kissing, pull her thighs up around you,” Adam says, Dieter’s head swiveling back.

“That all right by you?” he asks, smoothing the shirt on his skin. 

“Yeah, yeah, absolutely,” you answer, trying not to croak out the words. It was just the first take, it’s fine that you’re a little off-kilter. It would be easier by the second one.

It was not. Not by the third either, still swimming in the heady arousal that wafts from Dieter’s commanding presence. The director complimented how you clutched at his shoulders when he squeezed your thighs, which you tried to pass off as purposeful rather than hanging on for dear life. You were doomed, you’d bitten off more than you could chew and you were going to mess up this role and had no idea how to stop it.

Three more scenes to go.

You take a lap as they reposition the cameras, flip-flops slapping against the concrete floors of the soundstage as you debate if you have enough time to rub one out before going back, just to take the edge off.

“Actors back on set!”

Dammit.

Scene 18 has you riding Dieter, his hands guiding you until he bares his teeth (your signal to move with him) and rolls you on your back to pound you into the mattress. The lingerie is gone now, the cool air of the soundstage caressing over curves of your body that most people rarely see. Dieter averts his eyes when you disrobe, and carefully arranges himself below you. You’re feeling more centered, straddling Dieter with a little less fire burning between your legs, but your troubles take a sharp turn.

“Lean forward a little more, you’re half out of the shot.”

“A little faster.”

“Put your hand on his stomach about ten seconds in.”

“Never mind, back to how we had it before.”

“No, we said no hand, remember?”

“Do you need a break?”

Your body shakes after take 6, half from the exhaustion of lifting up on your knees over and over, your toes starting to go numb, and half with anxiety over forgetting another cue, or missing another note. The smile you keep shooting the director is getting strained, and mortifying tears start to prick your eyes. Dieter is watching your face closely, and with a pointed look at Ramona she calls a brief break. 

“Hey,” he murmurs, guiding you off his lap to sit on the edge of the bed. You cross your arms over your chest, and he reaches over to give you your robe. Draping his own over his lap, he strokes that soothing pattern of circles over your back as you shake your head.

“Sorry, it felt so easy in rehearsal, I’m having like, a weird lockup right now,” you stammer out.

“It’s okay,” he says, “I know what it is.” You look up at him with more desperation in your eyes than you mean. He nods sympathetically.

“It’s the cock sock, isn’t it?” 

He delivers the line completely deadpan. The shock of the phrase, plus the serious set of his brow, makes hysterical laughter burst from your lips. You bury your face in your hands and shake as Dieter’s deep chuckles tickle into your ear.

“That’s better, just need to get a little of that tension out,” he soothes, meeting your eyes with a charming smile. If only this could be a real moment, not something looked on by several men and women drinking coffees. Dieter seems like the kind of partner who would always make you comfortable, and seen, and absolutely satisfied.

That last thought tingles the baby hairs on the back of your neck as you move back into position. Straddling Dieter once again, the ridiculous genital covering out of sight, he grips your shoulders.

“Okay, let’s get back into character here, yeah? Remember your motivation?”

You nod. Not that the scene really needed a deep backstory, but you’d decided you were blowing off steam after a rough few days at work and an ex texting you to get back together. Dieter was mysterious, exciting, so different from your past boyfriends, and when he met your eyes across the room all you wanted was for him to wash the bad taste of their memories out. 

“Got it? Good. Here’s mine,” he says, leaning up while the last few preparations finish around you. Lips to your ear, he whispers only for you. 

“Another dead end, another long day, and I want something to distract me. I’ve got my eye on my usual type, but then I see you. You stand out in the crowd, bold, confident. You hold my stare, challenge me. I thought I wanted something easy, something mindless, but looking at you, I changed my mind. I wanted something with substance, someone to give as good as she gets, and I know you’ll give me even better. My cock got hard just looking at you, you’re fucking perfect. And then when you let me buy you a drink and you criticized my whiskey choice, I wanted to bend you over the bar right there. So I’m taking you home to bury my troubles, but you can surprise me as many more times as you like. I like to be surprised. I want you to take me as much as I’m taking you.”

Dieter lies back with a hell of a self-satisfied smirk on his face.

“Action!”

Your body moves with an ease that had been eluding you, liquid rolls as you take your time riding him. His hands come up to your hips, urging you faster, and instead you grind down on him, pressing your hands into his chest and pinning him into the bed. You’re not supposed to be fighting him, but it feels so right to arch and rock harder into him. His bare legs flex against your ass, meeting your hips with his thrusts. You can imagine how good he’d feel if you weren’t faking this, how his powerful thrusts would hit your g-spot. His hand cups the back of your neck, teeth bared in warning as he rolls you onto your back. 

“You’re so sexy,” he growls in your ear, hooking your legs around his waist and smacking his hips into yours. The impact is softer than it looks, aided by your moans and writhing beneath him. He goes for a handful more thrusts before “Cut!” is shouted again.

“There we go! I like the improv, can we do just one more for coverage?” Ramona says, giving you an approving smile when you immediately get into position. 

“I could go all night,” Dieter shoots back, earning an eye roll from half the crew and a dry mouth from you when he flicks his gaze back and winks. 

The second take flows even better, your bodies finally speaking to each other. Dieter palms your ass, you slow your hips. He urges you to go faster, you grind down on him. He grits his teeth as you push his chest, nails just about to bite into the supple flesh. His eyes capture yours over and over, and the hunger inside them is some damn good acting. 

The cues, the flip, and you’re on your back again, but this time Dieter drops his head to cover your breast with his hot mouth. You arch, a strangled gasp as you wait for his tongue, his teeth, but he works his jaw against the flesh and nothing more.

Fuck, you want something more.

When he pops his mouth off he resumes the script, thrusting frantically into you but with more force this time, even an edge of desperation. You meet his energy, throwing your head back and letting him yank you against him over and over. The slap, the friction, this gorgeous man before you all makes slick weep from your untouched cunt, clit aching for the act you’re simulating.

“Cut! Excellent, really good work guys, you’re hitting your groove here. Let’s move on to 19.”

Dieter stays above you for a few seconds more, your chests heaving. The lust bleeds away to a soft smile as he pats your side.

“Good work, you take direction really well.”

You bite your tongue to stop yourself from saying, “Just from you.”

You take one more walk around the soundstage to try and calm your rebellious body, but the moment you see Dieter again, kneeling in the bed with the blankets bunched in front of his hips, it’s all dashed away. Even his respectful touches as he guides you to your stomach, checking in if you’re comfortable, all burn across your skin. You just need to get through this scene.

“Action!”

This is indeed the finale. Dieter would finish above you, pounding into you from behind. You were supposed to lie there and take it, let him cuss and choke into the back of your shoulder before his breathing slows and you cut to the next morning. You could do that. You totally could. Most men you’ve been with hump you into the bed like this and it does very little for you. This would be fine.

The moment Dieter starts rutting against your ass you know you’re done for. You’re too worked up, and the position lightly teases your nipples. A wrinkle of blanket rubs against your mound just enough to relieve your clit, and while you know you should stop you can’t help but grind into the bed just enough to light up your nerves. Dieter hovers above you, thick forearms planted by your shoulders as he hisses and grunts his way to a fake climax. You press back against him, giving your own satisfied smile as he drops his forehead between your shoulders and rolls his hips again. 

“Not bad, can we go one more time?”

Shit. You’d hoped that would be enough, arousal rising dangerously between your thighs. Rearranging the sheets to deny you pleasure, you catch Dieter slumping to one side and watching you. It’s intense, being in his stare, but also warming and protective. When you lie back on your stomach and give him a nod that you’re ready, he leans down and whispers in your ear.

“If you want it, you can have it. I won’t tell anyone. You take it when it comes.”

You barely get a moment of shock before the cameras are rolling and the scene begins again. Did Dieter just…insinuate that he’d cover for you if you came? The thought makes wetness gush between your thighs, now lacking the friction you were relishing in earlier. The need aching in your cunt makes you roll your hips back against Dieter, a strained “fuck” spitting through his teeth. He grabs your hips and guides you against his narrow ones, not quite hitting where you want but the snap and slap of him against you still works you up more than it should. You cry out, bury your face in the pillow, fist the blankets as he chases his release. The practiced groan signals the end, this time his cheek pressing against your back and a kiss dotting your spine. 

Thank God. You were finally in the clear.

“I think we need one more, guys. I want a little more…intimacy this time. You both okay with that?”

Oh fuck oh fuck oh fuck.

“I don’t…” you started to protest until Dieter’s hand finds its way to the back of your neck.

“I think you can do it. I know you can. One more time?” he asks, but in his eyes is a promise that makes you nod, even against your better judgment.

This time I’ll make you cum.

Dieter changes tactics when the cameras roll. He starts off fast, yanking you back against him. Sitting up on his heels he arches you off the bed with his expansive hands. His thighs cage you in, squeezing tight. Something thick and soft slides against your ass, and you realize Dieter is hard behind you, cock still wrapped up but the weight of it against you obvious. You want him between your legs, fat head sliding over your clit, but you let him adjust you to exactly where he wants. 

With Dieter’s guidance you rock and writhe against him, drips of praise reaching your ears. With a deeply groaned, “Fuck, baby,” he folds over you, stomach pressing into your back. His fingers lace with your own, hugging you to his chest as he pumps his hips in long strokes. His cock nudges your lower back, little gasps keening out. He noses your cheek and guides you to turn your face to the camera. 

“This okay?” he mouths into your ear and you let out a, “Yes, please,” loud enough to mean anything for the camera. You slide a hand into his hair, gripping the thick curls to a stuttered sigh of pleasure. The pressure and motion finally gives you the stimulation you need, and it’s barely any time before your orgasm barrels to the forefront. You tighten your grip on Dieter’s large hand and school your face just enough to not look like you’re cumming through the hottest scene you will ever act in.

“That’s it, take it, take it baby, you’re doing so well, fucking god, look at you,” Dieter groans into your ear. He presses you deeper into the mattress, muting the uncontrollable bucking of your hips for the camera. Teeth scrape along your jaw in tender nips as he stutters to his fake finish, a guttural groan and relaxing of his body signaling the end of the scene. But Dieter lifts up on one elbow and pinches your chin between two fingers, turning your face to his. He looks at you like a mystery to be solved, like a gift, and then kisses you, slow and indulgent.

“Cut! Excellent, loved the ad libbing Dee, but you gotta stop saying fuck, we’ll have to cut that out,” the director says. Dieter laughs against your back, and the warmth of his skin makes you want to melt into the bed and never leave. 

“You doing okay?” he asks, lifting up off you and tugging both your bathrobes over to give you some modesty. He fists his own over his swollen erection, a little pink high in his cheeks and sweat along his hairline.

“Yeah, perfect, absolutely,” you say lightly, legs wobbling when you try to stand up. His eyes drag over you, a prideful smile playing on his lips as you try to cover up your dazed affect. “One more scene?” you say brightly.

“Yeah,” he says, distracted. “One more scene.”

The final shot of your day is the following morning, soft yellow light traded for the cool blue of daylight streaming in. You’re facing away from the camera, Dieter waking and looking over at your naked shoulder. He sits up and strokes along the curve of your waist, making you sigh in your sleep. He watches you with a mix of regret and resolution, kisses your shoulder, and gets out of bed.

The scene is done in one take. You wish it took all day.

The end of the shoot is quiet, taking off makeup and getting back into your public clothes. You strain to hear someone coming to your dressing room, a certain wild-haired brown-eyed man giving you a sendoff. A kind word, a piece of advice, you’d take anything. But he doesn’t come, and you leave the soundstage with your check and thanks and promises of references. 

The drive back to your apartment is quiet, music even feeling too loud for the moment. Weaving through LA traffic, the moments of your day slip through your mind like silk ribbons.

You suppose this is what meeting your heroes is like. A moment in the sunlight of their presence, then back to the real world of auditions and day jobs and hoping your parents never see this particular part of your portfolio. The dishes need washing, calls need to be made, and you have to go on with your life. It was an excellent experience, albeit a slightly inappropriate one. But if that’s the worst you got up to with Dieter then it was fairly tame.

The fleeting thought of what you’d actually hoped you’d get up to with Dieter comes and leaves without incident. 

By the time you get home you’re planning what casting call you’d go to tomorrow, making your grocery list, and considering if you can get away without doing laundry tonight. Which is why you walk past the bouquet of flowers in the atrium without checking who it’s for. Waiting for the elevator, however, curiosity gets the better of you and you peek at the card.

Your name. It’s your name on the perfectly imperfect bouquet of garden roses and eucalyptus. You’re opening the card as your cell phone vibrates in your pocket. Fishing it out, you greet the Midnight Alley casting agent on the other end.

“Are you open to a semi-recurring role?” 

“W-what?”

“Yeah, the director and AD were really impressed with your chemistry with Bravo. They’ve been trying to write him a love interest in the show, but he’s turned down all the potential actresses and guest stars. No chemistry, bad chemistry, whatever, but the point is he asked for them to consider you.”

Your hands shake, the clean white card pinched between your fingers.

I think we can do better together than that. Dinner?

-DB

“What do you think?”

Your heart flutters as you set it free.

“When can I start?”

END

#dieter bravo x f!reader #dieter bravo x female reader #dieter bravo fanfiction #dieter bravo x you #dieter bravo x fem!reader #dieter bravo x reader #the bubble fanfiction #midnight alley #prolix fics

[haleyboook]

Sexiest man alive’s photographer wife pt.l

Chris Evans is to be named People’s 2022 sexiest man alive, what he and his wife don’t know is that his photographer for the magazine is his very own wife. Who better to give the smoldering sexy look to than his wife?

☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆

“Yes I am still scrambling around London trying to make it back in time for Miles birthday party. The models I’m dealing with here believe I’m a complete ninny. If only they knew the real stars I’ve photographed. Tell me why I agreed to this shoot again?”

He smiles on the other end of the video chat saying “It was something new. You wanted to broaden your portfolio.”

I grumble saying “Biggest mistake ever. Never let me make another like this okay?”

He chuckles saying “I think you’ve spent too much time in Europe, you’re beginning to speak like them. Ninny? What does that even mean?”

I stifle a laugh saying “Gah.. I’m so sorry. I should be home. With you and Dodger. Not here.”

“Hey, we understand. You’re killing it there and we’re couch potatoes while you’re gone. After shooting I’m exhausted.”

I nod saying “How’s the shooting for the red one going?”

“Good. I love Dwayne. I know I said I didn’t know if he’d be weird but he’s so funny and so nice. You’d love him. You need to meet him soon.”

“I’ll be home soon. And I won’t leave again, for as long as humanly possible.”

He nods saying “Sounds like the best idea you’ve ever had.”

I shake my head saying “You look tired. I am screwing up your sleep routine calling you this late. I hate this stupid time difference.”

He shakes his head saying “I can’t and will not go to sleep until we have our nightly calls. You know that.”

I frown and say “Sometimes I hate my job.”

“But, you love it. You know that.”

I shrug as I feel tears produce, “it’s just so difficult being away from you for so long. I don’t know anyone here. My assistants are French and talk terribly about me to each other. And the models think I’m a servant to them. I miss America. I miss you. I miss home.”

His eyes widen and he says “It’ll be done in no time. We’ll be here, waiting. Just do what you’ve gotta do. I can send Scott over if you’d like. He begs to go to Europe all the time.”

I smile as I wipe my tears saying “If he’s my best bet, yeah. But he’s not my first choice in Evans’ visiting me.”

He nods saying “I know how much you love my mom but I think she’s pretty busy in Boston, even though…”

I laugh through the tears at his efforts to make me feel better, my assistant quickly calls for me as I look to the laptop

“Miss Klava is requesting you to do… your job. No offense.”

I sigh as I look to her saying “Klava was supposed to be on set of the shoot an hour ago. She doesn’t run the show here. Get her in makeup and make her look like she cares to be here. I’ll be there soon enough.”

Quickly she leaves as I groan and Chris mellows as I shake my head saying “They can never not interrupt our alone time, can they?”

He shrugs saying “Big shoot day. I know you need to get out there now.”

I look down to my watch saying “No. No, tell me more about what’s going on with you.”

“I got a call from People magazine actually..”

Klava pushes her way into my room, shouting in a language I don’t understand, pointing towards my laptop and huffing and puffing.

Making a whole tantrum in front of me

I shake my head saying “You should be in hair and makeup! You’re so lucky I don’t find literally any other model to replace you!”

She shakes her head saying “I told you I model best. But you waste time with this! This ridiculous device.”

I look to my laptop screen, seeing Chris’ flushed expression. I glare at Klava saying “You can’t barge into my private office-”

My assistant says “She refuses to go into makeup, she claims she looks perfect as is.”

I sigh saying “Get Rachel, send Klava to Wes while I figure out how yo handle this.”

I look to my laptop saying “I’m sorry, Chris. I will call you later. Alright?”

He nods and says “I love you. Good luck with Klava.”

I smile to him quickly, saying “I love you too. Good luck with shooting.”

“You too.”

The call ends and I spend the rest of the day scrambling around, attempting to position and direct models that are nearly more than a foot taller me in heels to do as I request

I didn’t get around to calling Chris again, but I had enough time to check my email before I ultimately let my head hit my pillow and pass out

A rep from people magazine have reached out, asking for a call to speak about a job offer

I set plans and fall asleep with my phone unplugged and with a low battery

Chris messages me as I sleep, giving me updates throughout his day

Only going through to my dead phone

The sun shines in my face and I abruptly sit up, scrambling to read the time “please don’t be late..”

I look to the clock on the microwave, groaning as I rush out of the room.

Another painful day of dealing with models begins as I plug my phone in, missing my daily call with Chris

Missing the email telling me I would receive a call from People magazine’s Zoe.

Rachel pushes my ringing phone to my ear as it answers “Honey, I know I missed our usual call but-”

“Oh? Sorry, do I have the wrong number?”

I set my camera down, grabbing my phone confused saying “Sorry.. thought you were my husband. My assistant didn’t tell me it was a business call. Who is this?”

“Zoe from People.”

“Oh! Hi, sorry. I’ve been swamped here in London. What can I help you with?”

She cheerily says “As you probably know, People announces the sexiest man alive yearly with a large photo shoot and article. And we need a photographer for this years 2022 sexiest man alive. I’ve been following your work for awhile and wow… you’re work is stunning. My employers and I would like to offer you the job.”

My eyes widen and I say “Who would I be working with? Who won?”

Zoe pauses and says “2022’s sexiest man alive..”

I smile and say “Ah.. so confidential for now. When will the photo shoot take place?”

“Soon, as soon as you have an opening actually.”

Debating taking on more work I say “Who’s in the running for the job besides me?”

Zoe pauses saying “We were hoping it’d be you. We have a few people we’ve used in the past but my boss really enjoyed your photos from the Met gala earlier this year. You took some phenomenal photos.”

I pause and say “I don’t finish this job for another few weeks and I- I need to speak to my husband first before I accept another job.”

“We’d be willing to be flexible with times. And we know the model would be too.”

Looking to the models in front of me I say “Can we shoot in Boston?”

Zoe happily says “Yes, wherever you choose to photograph!”

I nod saying “Alright, I’m in. I just need to reassure my husband. I can just do the editing from this job from home. I’m almost wrapped up here. I will send you some dates that work for me, you pick one and let’s set some solid plans okay?”

“Perfect, I’ll expect your email. Thank you!”

I wrap up the call, dropping my phone and saying “Alright, this is the last day of shooting and none of you will have to hear my harping voice again. Just cooperate with me.”

Sending my unedited shots to my higher ups at the magazine I request finishing the final product in the states

With some convincing it’s approved and I call Chris on my taxi ride to dinner

“Didn’t think you’d get some time away to call me.”

I huff a breath in response saying “Yeah. I didn’t either. From the looks of your texts it sounds like you’re enjoying filming on red one.”

“I’m actually about to go meet someone for breakfast. Would you mind if you just texted me what’s up?”

I pause and mask my voice saying “Yeah of course! I’ll talk to you later.”

I hear a couple different voices in the background, one being Scott shouting “tell her I’m booking my flight immediately!”

I smile and Chris ends the call with a hushed goodbye. I sigh and the taxi driver says “Where to?”

“The airport please.”

☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆

next>>

Also make sure to like, comment, and re-blog please!

comment to be added to taglist!! ♥️

#chris evans #sexiest man alive #marvel #cevans #chris evans x reader #chris evans x wife!reader #chris evans x photographer reader #chris evans fanfiction #chris evans x you

[rabbitsrams]

time to change ur lives: virgin/inexperienced afab! reader x experienced lunch club! ted :)))

nsfw under the cut, minors dni!! 18+ only.

i def feel like ted is more experienced considering he did have a gf at the time (and probably had a good amount of partners let’s be real)

so when you meet him at some frat party one night you just know you have to get to know him. this tall, sexy, charismatic man completely captured your attention. and you captured his.

ditched his friends to go and talk to you. you were really shy and not a fan of how loud it was so he took you into one of the frat’s bedrooms so you could talk.

but talking wasn’t all that took place in that room. he kept moving closer to you as you talked, moving a piece of stray hair away from your face, caressing your cheek before you thought, fuck it, and jumped on him.

this wasn't your first time kissing someone, but it was your first time getting kissed by someone actually good at it. and oh my god. it's like heaven.

he's tugging at your shirt, reaching underneath to grab at your breasts until you stop him. "wait, i'm... i'm a..."

"a virgin?" you nod. "oh."

"i'm not ready to lose it, not tonight."

so he gives you his number and you agree to start... meeting up😉

him showing you and telling you how to do basically everything since you basically had no clue how to do it.

“just wrap your hand around it, yeah there we go.”

“now what?”

“move it up and down, fuck, just like that.” (bonus points cuz he places his hand over yours to guide you‼️)

you're really nervous to go down on him but he's guiding you the whole time, a hand on the back of your head, slowly pushing you down as you get used to him.

he's coming down your throat almost instantly, because it's your mouth, your pretty lips are wrapped around his cock. plus when you look up at him with those pretty eyes of yours? he's done for.

he just loves going down on you. lowkey ted seems like the king of pussy eating

his tongue just works absolute magic on you, licking at your folds and sucking on your clit, omg. he knows all the right moves and stuff to make you come all over his tongue.

also loves fingering you as he eats you out. this man has the sexiest hands EVER oh my god. and because they're so long they hit your g-spot in just the right way. screaming with the s!!

he absolutely loves your moans, you sound so pretty when he's making you feel this good <3 also goes FERAL when you call him teddy btw.

and when you are ready to go all the way, it's kind of out of nowhere. you text him on some random saturday afternoon straight up telling him: "i'm ready."

he's immediately getting hard, telling you to come to his apartment asap. you put on your only fancy bra and a random pair of lacy panties you bought impulsively at the mall one day.

he lets you in, shirt already off, and he's practically shoving you into his room.

you tell him you wanna undress yourself because you have a little surprise for him.

he's practically on the floor when he sees you in the bra and panties; he's so tempted to rip them off of you but he lets you do it yourself.

is super gentle with you, makes sure you're comfortable and lubed up if needed before he slides into you.

holding your hand as you get used to the sensation, cooing at how beautiful you look under him. (and also at how tight you are) lots of kissing as he fucks you too :)

makes you come around his cock, just an absolute earth-shattering orgasm that has you seeing stars.

sooooo sweet after, making sure you're all cleaned up and you pee before coming back to bed with him. cuddles you close which has you falling asleep on his chest.

also takes you out to dinner after :)

#ted nivison x reader #ted nivison x you #ted nivison smut #ted nivison fanfiction #ted nivison imagine #ted nivison fanfic #ted nivison fic

[nyaagolor]

Paldean Elite Four (+ Geeta) Headcanons

They've been on my mind recently bc of all the asks I got

Rika:

Rika is the office gossip QUEEN. She knows everything about everyone, so if you need or want to know something you ask her. She knows a guy. She also desperately wants to figure out what Larry and Geeta's Deal (tm) is. They bicker constantly, are insanely passive aggressive, but despite their opposing attitudes agree on most fundamental issues. They look like they hate each other, but Larry constantly takes on new responsibilities for the League and Geeta constantly showers him with raises and promotions. Rika has taken to snooping thru their emails and prodding Hassel for info, but he doesn't know anything either. It’s driving her nuts

Paldea had a Region’s Sexiest Man contest. Rika won. Women Want her. Despite this however she can only pick up women accidentally. If she actively tries to flirt she will fuck it up spectacularly. Just the in-universe version of this

Rika is actually on the payroll as the league receptionist and does that Elite Four thing as a side hustle for extra cash. She gets kind of embarrassed when you call her a receptionist during her Elite Four duties though because other regions often use her as an example of why the Paldean league is garbage (i.e. they're so understaffed even a receptionist can be on the E4. They must have grabbed the nearest person, etc etc). She puts on the vibe of someone chill but this in particular is a bit of a sore point for her

She hates dresses / skirts with a burning passion and refuses to wear them. If you give her a REALLY good reason it's a solid maybe, but good luck with that. She needs to stretch

Her Clodsire's name is Pancake :) I like to think all her pokemon are named after breakfast foods (which, btw, is her favorite meal of the day. She is easily bribed with good waffles)

She and Larry are drinking buddies. She does most of the drinking

Poppy:

Everyone in the league is very careful to alter their habits around Poppy. She’s small and cute and sweet and a little baby so the usual informal cursing (like Rika shouting that HR needs to “cut the bullshit”) or the smoke breaks on the roof (yes I think they all smoke) can’t happen when Poppy is around

The league spoils her rotten. Candy? Toys? Help with her kindergarten homework?? Anything for Poppy. Even Larry, who seems too strict or apathetic to care, has her drawings in his desk drawer and lets her decorate his ties. The toys in the lobby are also hers

Her parents are accountants who brought her to take your kid to work day and let her play with their Pokémon outside. Rika challenged her to a match as a joke because they had a cancellation and Geeta watched— but both were shocked that Poppy’s skill with her parents’ steel types and her own Tinkaton were unparalleled by anyone in the building. When another E4 member retired, the league decided to let Poppy battle under her parents’ names just to blow off some steam. Poppy gets to let out energy, her parents make extra money, and the elite 4 has a strong battler. Win win!

Poppy loves to braid and play with hair, so the other elite four members will often let her play with their hair and add clips while they work. Larry is Poppy’s favorite because he sits Very Very Still

If Poppy really likes the battle she had with you, she’ll give you a sticker. Geeta once walked into a meeting with a gold star directly on her forehead because Poppy stuck it there and she didn’t want to take it off where Poppy could see it, forgetting about it by the time she walked in. She later moved it to her jacket

She has nicknames for everyone except Rika, which drives Rika insane. Grandpa Hassel, Mister Larry, Miss Geeta (or Auntie sometimes) but Rika? It’s just Rika. It’s always Rika. When Hassel was babysitting her at his and Brassius’ home in Artazón, Poppy’s eyes went really wide and she asked if she had two grandpas now or if Brassius was just SUPER old. He found that insanely funny

Larry:

I saw a fic that had Larry naming his pokemon after Excel commands and I cannot stop thinking about it. It's canon in my heart. Btw if anyone knows this fic / the name pls lmk I can’t find it again but I remember his Flamigo was named COUNTIF

Larry is actually pretty wealthy, partially because he's raking in cash from his three jobs and partially because he doesn't spend money on anything but food and pokemon products. Considering that the Treasure Eatery feeds him for free and the pokemon products are provided or subsidized by the League, that leaves him with a LOT of extra income, which he uses to help out his friends or gym challengers with financial issues or simply buying them dinner

Someone added this on another post of mine but every single one of Larry’s passwords is some variation on “password”. He’s many things but creative is none of them. Also these tags are canon to me

In contrast to his outward grumpiness and seeming apathy, Larry is incredibly gentle with and good with kids. He is confident the future will be better because of them, and does what he can to encourage them. It's a big part of the reason Geeta picked him for the positions-- they have a pretty similar philosophy regarding children and the future

Geeta has been doing everything in her power to get him to quit his third job (which is not League-affiliated) because he does the best work of anyone around and his other boss is a complete and utter asshole. She's tried promoting him, telling him how valuable he is to the team, using raises, praise, and passive aggression, but nothing is working. At one point she even tried overloading him with hours so he'd be forced to quit something but that didn't work either. She's stumped. The man won't quit

That third job? I'm not actually sure what it is but I do have an AU where he's a hitman. Call that a business casuality ;)

Hassel:

He always keeps candy in his desk (and his coat pockets) because he's a teacher and wants to be prepared. It's the strawberry kind, yall know the ones. This came in handy when Poppy joined the league, so all the other members started doing it too

His family gets traditional tattoos all over, which Hassel likewise has. He'd never remove them, but still keeps them covered most of the time for modesty reasons. Brassius has filled in the gaps in the traditional dragon shapes with various flowers to show how Hassel has grown from but not forgotten his past. They look very cool and Rika is insanely jealous of that

This old man is way more fit than he appears. He's a sensitive sweetheart and prefers the arts to sports or battling, but he's still a dragon tamer and keeps up his workout regime quite meticulously. Peepaw’s fucking shredded

His favorite art medium is paint, and he loves it when the little kids have class so he can finger paint alongside them. His office in the League building is covered in art. Geeta thinks it's sweet how he remembers every piece and how emotional he gets talking about it

Hassel has a hard time turning off teacher mode, which makes his training sessions at the league insanely funny to watch. “Haxorus, we do not Guillotine our friends!”

He can, and frequently does, play classical Paldea guitar. Once his rock career fell flat, he started experimenting with the style of his new home region and fell in love. You can often find him giving impromptu concerts from his balcony in Artazon

Geeta:

As much as she micromanages others, she's more than willing to take any responsibilities herself if she can't find someone else to do them. Plumber cancelled and they need the sink fixed asap? Get her a hammer. Rika is out sick? She'll cover those emails. Part of the reason the league struggles to complain about her is that they know for all the work they're doing, she's doing double. This doesn’t necessarily mean she’s GOOD at it but she’s doing it

I’m not sure how I want to explain it backstory wise but a lot of her skin is crystalline just like the AI professors. She’s got a LOT of connections to Area Zero and her top priority is making sure nothing goes in and nothing gets out. The professor hates her. The feeling is mutual

No one has ever seen her blink

She’s incredible at traditional Paldean dances. When Hassel plays classical guitar, she’ll dance along, and it’s magical to watch

That whole thing about not being able to hold back during battles? It’s a PR thing to make kids feel better. She’s not very good at battling. Geeta is just like (gestures at her Avalugg) I just think they're neat

A huge point of contention between her and her employees is that she takes everything literally and is terrible at reading tone. Her gym leaders are scared of her and try to drop hints about things because they think they’ll be punished if they’re too forward, but all those hints go right over Geeta’s head. The gym leaders then think Geeta is ignoring them on purpose but she’s none the wiser. Everyone is losing.

#rika #poppy #larry #hassel #geeta #pokemon sv #mod vex #headcanons #I put this under a readmore but mobile is being weird I hope it sticks

[oceanlipgloss]

1.1.2024

—nsfw

It's Leraye's turn for some clapping funnn

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intro: a romantic and intimate concept and manner of thinking that speaks to my artistic tendencies and aggressively tickles my fancy Also. All those headless plushies he has on him? I love. I even want a few. And, I want a pair of his earrings too

update I: he speaks to my writer's mind fr. It's very pleasant, how he talks about the future in that manner but please don't get your hopes up too much, Leraye, for MC is a national star I'm getting fic ideas tho

update II: so normally I don't really care much for sweet talk, but he's pleasantly sugar-sweet lol And that tongue piercing? I. Am. In. Love. Plus, the idea of a man with a playful, innocent charm i.e. like Leraye having such a badass piercing? It's kskdlnshsjs so perfect it's sinful

update III: oh my. Do I have a thing for finger biting? For fingers-in-your-partner's-mouth? Yes, I really do. Does it make me feel things? Yes, it totally does. And his tongue? Pierced and dripping like sin? No, but, excuse me, but—AAAAAAAAAAAH

update IV: dude the way he talks about the future is so romantic and has this rosy mystery to it, I'M LOVIN' DIGGIN' IT

update V: baby is jealous again aaaaaah I love Satan an unhealthy amount is all I'm saying but fuck it's so cute that Leraye kissed her cheek

update VI: it's finally time oh God oh God the H-sceneeeee something I've been fighting for rushing through battles for waiting excitedly for and there's going to be thunder, it seems. YES YES YES this creature loves summer but she's also a biiiig sucker for thunder

update VII: I love you two so much, just that

update VIII: please fuck on the floor please fuck on the floor please fuck on the floor plea— But wow he's suffering hard huh? HOT excuse me, just some sadism coming through

update IX: damn he's really fucked out of his mind just about a goner lol and it's so damn hot I do think that thunder is one of the sexiest things one can hear, so I get why he finds it...appealing but arousing? Idk man...

update X: he's high and soaring. Thunder is screwing his brains out. Help him, MC

update XI: these moments when MC cares and worries for the devils and isn't thinking about getting railed certain things? I love them, I crave them I was hoping they would do it on the floor tho goddammit, MC

update XII: *spongebob narrator* ah yes, the popsicle 'thing'

update XIII: hehehehehehehehe

update XIV: it what 'hot object' And damn, even popsicles have murderous urges. Who would've known?

update XV: MC, ever the cool human, doesn't react to being stabbed by a demon. Rather, she gets busy putting together conclusions

update XVI: wait no that change in attitude and behaviour is so sexy. *Kuzco's voice* uh-huh, uh-huh, uh-huh but as a writer, I tend to dislike comparing humans/human-like beings to animals (with a few exceptions), so I can't say I appreciate how Leraye is compared to a dog—even though I get why that is Anyways, Zeus the thunder you love is rooting for you, Leraye. Show too-cool-for-school MC the big guns what you're capable of, hon

update XVII: boy isn't even awake lmao it's REALLY hot how he's so dazed that he doesn't even know what he's doing And it's SO hot, what he's doing

update XVIII: nononono the crying horn does so much for me pls THIS did so much for me He's taken in by his feelings so badly that he can't even think straight and such that his horn itself is already sobbing WHAT'S THERE NOT TO LIKE

update XIX: LERAYE? OMFG THIS POSITION??? NONONONONONO I MEAN YESYESYESYESYES YAAAAS I'M ALIVE

update XX: SNDBKSHDBXMS and more thunder = more intensity? YESSSS

update XXI: he keeps chanting her name and let's just say that that kind of thing is one of the things that make my heart stutter and my brain tingle yay another turn-on, another weakness this game is preying on my romantic weaknesses and kinks. Keep at it please

update XXII: ughhhh yesss there we go again with the affecting-each-other's-emotions thing I'm so in love with it sob 'You could feel that since were connected to him' made me ascend because I'm a romantic sap like that you won't catch me dead wishing for romance in real life, though

update XXIII: the. Way. He. Keeps. Saying. Her. Name. The way he whispers sweet nothings into her ear as he makes her nut go nuts. Also, it's so hot that he's licking her neck and all, and with that piercing? I'm screamin' but science is wondering: how do you lick anything DEEPLY? Is there a secret anatomical passage hole in the neck that I'm not yet aware of or—ik what they mean, but choice of words pls lol

update XXIV: thunder is the new drug

update XXV: no but that's another fave switch of mine so sexy, like the man went from friendly and seemingly harmless to dazed and wild then back to innocent and sweet? Oh God shut up this is so cute I'm screaming crying throwing up twerking on the floor

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edit: okay but no bro, 2-68 and 2-72? Hell fr fr. I barely passed 2-68 after numerous tries and changes in character combinations and locations, except now I keep getting crucified annihilated in 2-72. My God. Those angels and their sorry eyeballs...someone call Andre

Also would you look at that, I just pulled Leraye lol and Phenix, too. And...another Valefor I'm not salty at all, 'cause it's not like I was hoping for a new character anyways but I'm so excited to try Leraye and Phenix out in battle. Leraye's already at level 17 lol

And my God, after I read Zagan's H-scene *SWOONNNNN* I die just thinking about it, I love him sm I pulled Zagan on a free pull, and now I get Leraye in a 10 pull after melting over reading his H-scene. Is this fate? Is this a tradition in the making? I sure hope so

⋆ ⋆ ⋆ ´ˎ˗

4.1.2024

I PASSED OH GOD I FINALLY PASSED LERAYE SAVED ME I promoted him to level 40 and oh my god I can't believe it, I finally did it lol ngl though I feel like there will be more battles like 2-72 and that's nervewrecking but...I'll somehow manage?

Also!

edit 2: "the virginity of your lips," he says. It's a bit too late for that, no? Not that I mind And Satan being happy and proud? Yesss bby YOU BIG CUTIE

edit 3: Sitri my love, jealousy seems to have kind of made you lose your memory. I understand, but please do try to remember who lunged at MC and kissed her upon meeting her for the first time, yes? Do it again

edit 4: someone's been listening to Lana Del Rey

edit 5: and this? This was HOT

Anyways, the main thing I wanted to say is that PAIMON IS SOOO CUTE! I love him already lol <3

edit 6: this game is preying on me, I swear and I'm loving every second of it

edit 7: AAAAAAAARGH <3 I love him I love him I love him I love—

Jokes aside, what Paimon said is sad, but I loved it. I really love the depth he has to him, and his words not only showed that, but also showed the fragility and emotional intensity and vulnerability of devils.

#what in hell is bad diaries #what in “hell” is bad #what in hell is bad #whb #whb leraye #what in hell is bad leraye

[sinsandsweetness]

I just die every time you write something amazing like that rec about Daryl and the cigarette. We need more lazy, indulgent and smoking Daryl. When does that man ever relax?? On that note, Rick too. I’d peg Rick for a whiskey guy, Daryl the cigarette. The boys taking turns fucking you, while Daryl has a cigarette in his mouth and Rick has whiskey. Shit, under the stars. So…. Yeah.

i almost die every time you send me an ask cause it makes me wanna start a new series😭 (I’m talking about ur last one w/ shane … )

They definitely have a hard time relaxing. Both of them always so high strung and serious all the time, feeling like they need to put a mask on for the group. To step up and be the leaders of the community. To be the heroes. Be there for everyone else all the time. So when you finally do get them alone, in your bedroom specifically, it’s the only time you ever see their shoulders relax. Or notice their eyelids getting all heavy. Because they know that with you, they can just be in the present. No worries or problems or issues to fixate on or tend to. Just… you.

Your soft, supple skin, so smooth and warm under their rough hands. Your pretty eyes looking up at them as you worship both of their cocks, giving them all the attention you can because you just wanna make them feel good.

There’s often a half a bottle of whiskey involved, a few shared cigarettes and a soft rock cd playing in the background, helping to set the mood. A hazy smoke filling the room because Daryl refuses to open the window. He doesn’t tell you that it’s because he loves the way the valley between your breasts glistens with sweat as he watches you ride his best friend. All hot and needy and rutting against him, nails digging into Ricks shoulders. The sexiest moans the men can even imagine, falling from your pouty lips.

And when they’re both done taking their turns with you, all fucked out from your seemingly never ending stamina, they’d lay back and sip on their drinks. Watching you flip through the basket of cd’s, trying to pick a new one to listen to. Wearing one of their button up shirts and no panties. And they’d know that despite the multiple orgasms they’d pulled from you already, the second you crawl back onto that mattress, you’ll be begging them both for one more round.

#rickyl #rickyl smut #rickyl daydreams #rickyl x reader #rick x daryl x reader #rick x reader x daryl #t’s daydreams <3 #rickyl daydream

[sexiestpodcastcharacter]

Sexiest Podcast Character — Unscripted Bracket — Round 2

Propaganda

Chine (Friends at the Table: Sangfielle):

”Look at how they grow ‘em here in Blackwick. God damn.”

taz fandom i'm begging to you please listen to fatt: sangfielle and experience chine please duck is an extended bit about wayne newton and he doesn't even try to blow up a carnival to upset mother nature and force a random town to forever be attendants to the aforementioned eternal carnival please oh please...

If Chine eating a mattress has a million fans, I am one, etc. etc.

just LOOK AT HIM

and he can turn into a shrew monster

this guy has great tits, this guy is a monster, this guy is nonbinary and all the bugs love them!! he's a dad, a writer, a macrame artist?? they're a goofball, they're deadly serious, they're shockingly competent! he's a vessel of the chaos of nature itself!! he's an animal control guy that sides with the animals, he's the living embodiment of adhd with a side of depression, and weirdly suspicious of the color yellow?? they swing a rusty poll-ax, they know how to read music and are completely comfortable singing with their co-workers..... which is to say:

vote for chinel <3

Vote for chine hes a wereshrew and morally ambiguous and easily lusted for

CHINE IS A BIG HAIRY EXOTERRORIST WOODSY FAILDAD WERESHREW DOG-GUY DOG-BOY... THEY ATE A WHOLE MATTRESS TO ESCAPE PRISON AND HE ATE A LIGHTBULB TO TOUCH THE GENIUS OF CREATION... AND HE'S REALLY GAY. THEY/HE LEGEND (AS IN ACTUAL LEGEND, PEOPLE ARE SCARED OF THEM)

GO MY PSIONIC WARRIORS!!!!!!!!

Tryst Valentine (Campaign: Star Wars):

Hot shot pilot/smuggler that will hit on anything that moves, but the best possible version of that character in almost a satirical way while also being super genuine. Too sexy to be able to read, to stubborn to admit they can't.

Han Solo but worse! A very funny little scoundrel stuck with a clone trooper and a mercenary (by choice). Mostly spends his time flirting, but gets serious when he needs to.

you know its trystan valentine i know it's trystan valentine what are we doing here? genderqueer freak of a man (the most positive voice in the world)

I wrote the first paragraph of Tryst propaganda. He's "oh no, I'm going to have to sleep with this idiot" sexy. He knows it makes you look bad for thinking he's hot and he uses that power for evil.

Art of Chine made by @wereshrew-admirer.

#Round 2 #Chine #Tryst Valentine #Friends at the Table #Sangfielle #Campaign: Star Wars #Campaign Podcast