#This is gonna make getting to 1000 way easier on my hands
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work it | na jaemin
Jaemin can’t quite keep a part time job; every time he gets hired, he somehow fucks up enough to be fired straight away. But he just can’t get fired from his job with you, not until he successfully asks you out on a date, anyway.
OR: How many times can your cover Jaemin’s mistakes before you blow up, or him.
pairing — jaemin x fem!reader
genre — restaurant!au, slowburn, fluff, humour, smut (MDNI)
wc — 20k
content — profanity, both jaemin and reader work at a chinese restaurant, kun, jaehyun, mark and shotaro mentioned, waitressing dynamics (im gonna be honest most of this is just me throwing words together and hoping for the best), smut tags below the cut :)
a/n — *sniff* my baby.... i loved writing this so much because the dynamics is something i truly enjoy ^^ there were times i wanted to strngle myself because i just couldn’t think of how to but the scenarios into words but here it is <3 hope you guys have fun reading!!!!
smut tags — making out, boob/nipple play, fingering, pet names, just the slightest bit of a dom/sub dynamic, lmk if i missed anything <3
Jaemin is in the back room of the pet store, looking at a big bag of dog food and a laminated paper with the number of servings needed for each pet section when he hears his boss call for him.
“Jaemin? You doing okay here?” He turns around to look at Mr Choi, showing a light smile and a thumbs up.
“All good sir, just trying to familiarise myself with each serving of the pet food before I try feeding them.” He waves the card around, the lanyard attached to it swishing around. Today was his third time coming in with a shift at the pet store, and although the place isn’t near his house, it wasn’t far from his campus either, which ultimately makes his travel easier. If he can go all this way to a lecture he won’t even remember, he can go again and again to make some cash and help his sobbing wallet.
Mr Choi grins, plump fingers clapping together in delight. “I knew I could trust you. You’ve worked in so many places so you must have adapted quicker.” At this, Jaemin’s smile strains a bit as he lays his hand on one of the food packets to seem normal. He’s not wrong, Mr Choi— Jaemin has worked at a lot of places. He started when he was fourteen at his uncle's small business in the night markets, looking after keychains and phone cases while his uncle would try to sell items with his marketing voice. His task was to answer customers when they asked for the price, and to find out the price he just had to remember the prices — and if he was really struggling, his uncle quips, you can look behind each sections name tag, where the prices are written in vibrant red.
But he was confident with the prices, who would forget that the key chains cost 500 won and the cases cost 1000 won?
Of course he wouldn’t forget, but he wasn’t correct either. The five and fifteen behind those items were actually 5,000 won and 10,000 won. And throughout the entire day when he would receive coins instead of the colourful notes his uncle was collecting, he didn’t even question it; he just thought his uncle was a top-tier marketer. Needless to say, he was ‘fired’ (he’s not sure if he was even supposed to be paid for his labour) and his parents took out the money he credited to his uncle from his savings.
You would think that the brutal action of taking someone's hard-earned pocket money would deter them from trying another job again until they were fully prepared to take on such professionalism. But Jaemin was devastated at the fact that he had lost his chore money while sitting down on a plastic stool in the hot summer's night market. And so he tried to get another job to attain back the money.
At age fifteen, for his birthday present, he had asked for a job opportunity from his parents. Reluctantly, they had asked one of their neighbours if they’d like to get their lawn mowed. After seeing Jaemin in the backyard a few times doing the gardening, they weren’t abhorred by the idea of paying him a small fee to clean their lawns. Excited, he set to work with the mowing, which was something he would do, but he didn’t remember if it was the growing bush on his left side or right that he was to avoid at all costs. Turns out it was both, which attained Mrs Choi’s sacred tea sprouts that she’d imported from one of the islands in between Malaysia and Indonesia, and it costs an arm and a leg, he recalls her saying. The horror on her face, when she saw the shaved-down plot of land, was something Jaemin never wishes on his worst enemy and all the while desires to draw frame to frame.
But of course, it didn’t end there. He worked at a convenience store and a local retail store when he was sixteen, but was fired from the first and never received his roster from the latter. He thought that maybe local stores were just too picky with their quality of work due to having to compete against monopoly businesses, and so he opted to turn to chain businesses instead. He worked at McDonald’s and almost deep-fried his instructor's hand when being taught how to work the fries, and barely batted an eye when a few teenagers shoplifted the stores’ display clothes when he was working the chain clothing store at the mall near his house. To his defence, he’d thought that they were his coworkers changing the clothes on display with their casual dress code of the workplace, and so naturally, he didn’t think much of it. His longest-lasting job was at a general retail store he was hired for during Christmas, where he lasted for three weeks due to his supervisor being too busy to catch Jaemin’s mistake.
It’s a miracle really that he’s lasted three solid days at this place, but there isn’t much he can screw up in a pet shop; so far all he’s tasked to do is feed the fishes, as they’re the easiest to feed, and discard the box with hamster and rabbit poop for compost. Surprisingly, they’re both placed in the same corner of the room, but they’re kept in different storage boxes. Jaemin remembers how green means compost, and blue means fish; it makes sense, so he just goes to the blue one and scoops one full scoop into a mini bucket, before going into the store and feeding the fish. With the compost bin, he simply fits it onto a wheeler before going out to the back and dumping it into the designated compost area.
Jaemin sniffles a bit, before placing the laminated poster back on the shelf, checking his watch for the time. “Oh,” He exclaims, “It’s lunchtime for the fishes,” His smile towards his boss might just be pushing it, but it seems like he’s doing a great job at, well, keeping this job; anything resembling ass-kissing, he’ll try. As long as it guarantees a longer stay for him of course.
Mr Choi laughs heartily, sending Jaemin a thumbs up as he slowly filters out of the back room while Jaemin heads to the blue tin. What he misses is how the relief from Mr Choi’s face turns into sheer horror, as he sees Jaemin scoop into the blue tin and drop the pendant-like substances into the fish’s designated feeder.
“Stop!” Jaemin drops the scooper into the tin as his boss yells out, his blood running cold at the sudden shout. “Jaemin..have you been using—” Mr Choi’s eyes widen as he cuts himself off, going back to the store with hurried steps. Jaemin is very confused, as he has his hand midway in the air from Mr Choi’s exclaim, standing in the backroom like an NPC only activated when a main character comes to him for a quest.
But, miraculously, he can move his feet as he hears another shout of— a woman? Or maybe it was just Mr Choi’s sheer…excitement of Jaemin’s dedication to his job? But what he sees when he gets out of the back room and into the main store isn’t a surprise party held for Jaemin and his efforts (okay, he thought that maybe this was all a ploy to just show his new staff some appreciation; he’s still sceptical about the horror in Mr Choi’s voice, can you blame him?). What he’s instead met with is his boss’ and how his hands are clenched on his already thinning scalp — Jaemin winces when he sees a strand slowly descend to the floor— as he skids left and right around the aquariums.
It isn’t until Jaemin takes a closer look and sees that the fishes he thought were sleeping are now, well, permanently sleeping; on the floor of the aquariums, save with a few floating slowly, hanging on for Mr Choi’s happiness or the longevity of Jaemin’s work streak. He later finds out that fish float when sleeping.
“Jaemin, oh my god— the blue tin is the compost bin, and the green one is the fish food! I’ve told you about this two times, there’s even a fish sign on the green tin, how could you not tell?!” Jaemin might be tripping, but he swears he can see the bald patch on his boss’ head growing steadily.
Of course, now wouldn’t be the best time for him to point out scalp care remedies, and so he settles for the next best thing; “I thought the fish sign meant that they just…smell really bad…” Mr Choi now has his hand splayed across his face before he slowly goes to rub at his eyes, and nose bridge next, probably preventing a stress-induced nosebleed.
He points towards the front of the store, where the counter sits next to the door, finger jabbing up and down. Jaemin takes this as a sign to get some tissues from behind the counter, or his boss’ water bottle that always seems to have unlimited tea; but before he can even get back to him, with his eyes still close, in the softest tone Mr Choi says “... Out.”
He would’ve stopped his job hunting there, to be honest; but he’s in the last year of his course and is living with a roommate in a separate flat from his parents, which means he has to have at least some money to buy some necessities like groceries, much less pay rent.
He tells this much to Mark when he asks why Jaemin decided to work at a gym straight after working at a pet shop, and also what his resume looks like for people to still be keen to hire someone like him. He completely evades the second question, happily confiding in his friend about the job at a gym he picked up a week after being fired from sending the fishes into a food coma.
(“…Too soon?”
“Yeah, maybe a little bit.”)
And when Mark asks how Jaemin’s day was as a conversation starter, he vulnerably confides in him about losing his job again. This time working at a gym, he was assigned the task of giving out flyers and talking to people about why they would benefit from going to the gym, according to the outline he was provided in this big binder, the corner of the cover peeling off with age. While he was trying to promote the gym and give the discount flyers, he got into a long-winded conversation with this one old man who was talking about how the treadmill ‘fucked his knee up’, which had Jaemin thinking if treadmills existed in the 1980s.
They were five minutes into Jaemin searching the creation of gyms on Naver and the old man scolding him for not listening to a customer even though he was ‘not yet a customer because you haven’t accepted the flyer, now have you?’ when his supervisor comes out and yanks on Jaemin’s ‘employee in training’ lanyard from around his neck. Jaemin wasn’t sure what factor was the tipping point, but Mark thinks it was because he was on his phone during work hours.
“Or maybe the fact that you were stuck talking to someone likely to be the last person to ever sign up to a gym?” Mark is spinning his pen as he says this, looking up from his laptop screen towards Jaemin. Mark doesn’t even write his notes by hand, so it’s truly beyond him why he’s brought a high-class fountain pen to their study session at Jaemin’s, but that should be the last of his worries.
“Actually, they did have yoga and treadmill training for those aged sixty-five and above, so I wasn’t even targeting the wrong market.”
“Are you saying you’ve been wrongfully fired?” Mark sports an amused smile at Jaemin as if he’s laughing along with his joke; but that’s the problem, he wasn’t joking.
“Don’t laugh at my demise,” Jaemin smacks Mark’s arm, and he would feel bad at the wince that the latter lets out if he hadn’t been on the receiving end of his brutal laugh-hitting habit five out of seven times in the past week. Mark slowly halts his laughing fit when he sees Jaemin sulking, suddenly turning soft.
“Alright, you know what, here,” Mark fishes out his wallet as he says this, twisting and turning his bag on Jaemin’s bed. He gives the latter 10,000 won, waving his hand out towards Jaemin’s window. “Go ahead and get some snacks, my treat. And get me the watermelon-flavoured ice cream too?”
Jaemin scoffs. “You’re only doing this because you’re too lazy to get it yourself.” Mark’s smile is sheepish.
“Well, do you have 10,000 won to spare?” That shuts Jaemin up, as he snatches the notes out of Mark’s hand with a glare.
“When I do get 10,000 won, I’m making you eat the note,” Mark’s laugh is nervous as Jaemin marches out.
The cold hold of the ice cream contrasts the warmth in Jaemin’s hand, as the walk back to his unit proves to be a good remedy for taking a mental break from studying, as he decides to take a long way back; partially because the walk through Central parks is nice, but mainly because he wants Mark’s ice cream to have melted into a gross mush when he gets back.
Walking through the park, the rustle of the plastic bag and the tree branches are the only sounds echoing throughout, with Jaemin swinging his arm leisurely. The park is a circle shapen thread of grass with benches and pathways swirling around it, adorned with a children's playground in one corner, and the park's famous Yoshino cherry tree sitting right in the middle of the whole scene. The walk from the ice cream store back to his unit, the long way, requires Jaemin to walk through the park and the line of stores and restaurants in company with the park’s facilities. For as long as he’s lived here, three out of four of the store slots have been busy with business and traffic; all but one.
Unit store 1279 is infamous for dooming local businesses whenever someone applies for its lease. Jaemin has seen two restaurants and at least three cafes open and close, all with varying reasons for closing; the landlord is a nightmare to deal with, a corner of the store leaks something green but only when no one pays attention, and lastly about how there’s a ghost that lingers near the back door, sending cold shivers down staff and patrons alike when they pass through the door.
Out of all these rumours, Jaemin truly has yet to see one of them be proven true, the landlord was friendly enough to send welcoming flowers when each business would open; and close. He was keen to feel the shiver of the ghost's presence course through his body when he visited two openings ago but to no avail.
However, the reason why he finds the store so intriguing today is related to neither of those rumours; right on the glass door of the supposed vacant spot is an estate-sealed sticker adorned with bold letters spelling out “SOLD”. Not leased, but sold, with just below the official sticker being a recruitment post, a single slip of the business's phone number flapping in the light breeze.
We are looking for part-time staff. Starting rate at 25,000 won per hour. No prior experience is required.
Jaemin shifts from one foot to another as he eyes the piece of A4 paper taped to the door. Isn't this fate? A store opening right near where he lives, willing to accept someone with no experience, and the last slip of number is left? All while Mark’s ice cream is melting in his bag. This is the universe's calling if he knows of any.
Jaemin paces around the living room while Shotaro sits on the couch, head tilting left and right to the opposite rhythm of Jaemin’s paces as he tries to look past his whizzing figure and to the TV. If Shotaro had even a single mean bone in his body, he would ever so kindly tell Jaemin to stop pacing and maybe instead stand in one place, if he’s comfortable to of course. But as far as Jaemin is aware, he flinches at the sight of a fly, and is much less able to hurt one, so, of course, he doesn’t tell Jaemin to stop obscuring his vision, and instead turns to look at him, ignoring his show.
“Are you okay?” He asks, and Jaemin finally deflates, seeing this as an invitation to rant to his roommate. Plopping himself right next to Shotaro on the three-seated couch, he links their arms together by the elbow, needing something to ground himself.
“I wanna call this place and see if I can get a job, but I don’t know how to go about it; is there such a thing as a verbal resume?”
“You mean, an interview?” Shotaro provides, hand hovering slightly in the air as he contemplates patting Jaemin’s hand in comfort, but not for long as Jaemin separates them with a look of shock on his face.
“So that’s the word I was looking for?” He frowns to himself in contemplation, before sulking right back into Shotaro’s bicep. He doesn’t think they’ve passed the phases required to get this close to his former, but he’s too stressed about fucking up another job, and Shotaro seems to not mind this sort of interaction.
“If you find it so stressful to call them and have a phone interview, why don’t you send them a text?” Jaemin doesn’t know if this is truly coming from the goodness in his heart or if this is just something that everyone knows. Either way, the words put him at ease as he stands from the couch, patting Shotaro on the shoulder in thanks.
“You’re right! They didn’t specify their expectations; they just had phone number slips and a recruitment notice. You’re a genius Shotaro,” To that, the boy flushes with a shy smile on his face, but before Jaemin can hear him say something about how he didn’t do anything, and that he would love to help you even a little bit, Jaemin has headed off to his room and is curating a message to send.
To: +82 10-7854-4793
Hello, My name is Jaemin and I am interested in working in your establishment. When can I come in for an interview?
From: +82 10-7854-4793
Hello Jaemin. We are grateful for your enthusiasm, could you stop by next Thursday at 12 p.m at the Tao Village restaurant? Please bring a copy of your resume and provide a USB of a soft copy of said resume. We look forward to hearing from you.
To: Tao Village HR person (I think)
Yes I am available :) Thank you
Jaemin was not quite sure what is an appropriate outfit for when you want to be interviewed for a job as a waitress, but Shotaro’s eyes had dimmed just the slightest when he saw Jaemin step out of his room with jeans and a hoodie.
“Is that what you’re gonna wear?” His tone was far from condescending, even with the smile on his face, he looked more like a proud mom, but Jaemin could tell when his roommate may be slightly disappointed with a poor choice, so he had gone back and dressed up in some slacks he had and a polo shirt tucked in. he hopes he doesn’t see people he knows, or worse, Mark, because he knows he wouldn’t hear the end of it.
Now he’s situated in front of the store, the ‘sold’ sticker now nowhere to be seen and a light glow shining through from the glass door, but the sun shinning from outside obscures any other view Jaemin could peak from the inside, as he sees more of his own reflection instead. Hand clasped on a clear folder and a USB with his resume, he pats his head one last time before opening the door and stepping in.
He’s been inside this store a few times over the past few cafes and restaurants, and so he’s not surprised to be met with a whole new interior. On the contrary, he’s quite pleased with the choices that the current owner of the store has made, with the walls now an even slate with ivory-coloured paint instead of the rundown orange brick that the last restaurant had. There are tables and chairs fit for two, and a last one for six people uninformed from left to right, with a counter and a curtain obscuring what he assumes is the kitchen towards the end of the restaurant.
Jaemin was too enamoured with taking in the whole place that he had completely missed the mini counter situated a bit to his left, with you standing behind, confused as to why someone has came in to simply look at the interior design and not, well, the menu.
A clear of your throat startles Jaemin out of his daze, as he looks towards you with the initial look of annoyance before his expression melts.
She’s so pretty. What the fuck? Does she work here? Is this a needed requirement? Maybe Jaemin should’ve topped up with a bit of cologne or something to truly seal his spot, but before he could embarrass himself by very subtly going to smell his shirt, you start.
“Hi, welcome to Tao Village, how can I help you?” He’s not sure if you’re using a customer service voice on him but it proves to work as he immediately thinks of how sweet your voice sounds. But Jaemin doesn’t want you to think he’s a creep who follows pretty women around and ask for their number the minute they open their mouth (he was so, so, tempted to ask for yours), so he tries a better way to ease in.
“I need to…speak to your manager.” His strong voice startles you both, as your eyes widen a bit before you lean back from the counter, now wary.
‘Is…is everything okay? My manager is unavailable at the moment.” Your eyes flit back to the curtain, where Jaemin assumes the head of this whole place is at the moment. His brows furrow further as he looks down at his watch. Twelve p.m., on the dot like the person he had texted requested. There must be a mistake.
“No, I’m sure they’re here. Maybe somewhere at the back? I need to speak to them,” he’s not sure why he’s suddenly being so demanding (he suspects that it's the polo shirt he’s wearing) but he’s nervous and he doesn’t want to be rejected before he was even given a chance to prove himself.
“I’m sorry if I offended you in any way, sir,” You voice out, now leaning back with your hand situated on the ring button placed below the counter, in case of emergencies or to be able to call for backup from the back of the kitchen. You didn’t think that you’d use it this early, “Can I make it up to you or help you in any form?”
Before you get to ring the button or Jaemin gets to backtrack, the curtains pull back and out comes a man in his mid-twenties, wearing an apron and holding a… paintbrush?
“Is everything alright?” He drops the paintbrush into its respective tray before he steps closer towards the two of you. You point at a faint smear of paint that’s caught on his cheek, mentioning silently to rub it off. Still, when he gets the memo and goes to wipe it off, he ends up smearing it further into his skin, his expression not wavering from its seriousness. It’s when he does a one-over at Jaemin that it all clicks.
“Oh! You must be here for the interview.” He pats down on his apron as if checking his bearings. “Kun said he’ll be back by now; that’s alright, have a seat.” He offers one of the two-seater tables, as Jaemin shuffles his way onward to take a seat, plopping himself on the opposite side of who he assumes is the boss of this place, as he takes his apron off and goes to brush at his clothes, before taking a look at his stained hands and deciding otherwise.
“Thank you for coming, my name is Jaehyun and I’ll just give you a brief breakdown of this place,” Jaemin nods as he rubs his palms against his jeans, thinking about how much he truly knew about this job. Come to think of it, he has no clue what the job he’s applying for even entails, just that they need staff who don’t necessarily need any experience (Jaemin does have some experience, maybe not the right kind) and were willing to pay enough for him to be able to pay his rent and only eat instant noodles two times a week, instead of the standard eight.
“We’re called Tao Village, and we offer a range of Chinese cuisines. I run this place with Kun, who was the one that got in contact with you. Both he and I cook, so we’re always in the kitchen. I have my niece,” That’s when Jaehyun points at you, which you don’t hear as you set up cutlery on tables with your earphones in, completely tuned out. “But she needs help for when we get a bit busier, or when it’s closing time; I can’t stay back because I have to wake up early the next day for the stores' essentials. We can show you the ropes but so far I just need you to work from Friday till Sunday.” Jaemin does his best to listen and store the information, but he realises that Jaehyun’s waiting for his reply.
“Yes, that should be okay,” He gave a thumbs up and a tight-lipped smile, which he slowly brings down when he sees Jaehyun’s stare on his hand.
“Great,” Jaehyun claps, standing up and reaching for the apron he placed on his lap before wrapping it around himself. “Well, the official opening of this place is on Saturday. Come in on Friday and we’ll try to acquaint you with the basics.” With a clap on the shoulder and a grimace of a smile - can it even be considered one? - Jaehyun hands him a brochure-like menu of the restaurant, telling him that if he can memorise it as soon as possible it will be helpful.
You’re wiping down the counter when Jaemin stands to leave, and when he shoots you a barely-there smile, all you do is look away.
“You got another job?” Mark sounds surprised when he says this, and that puts Jaemin off, because, of course, he got another job.
“What was I supposed to do? Stay jobless and have Shotaro pay all the rent and food expenses?” Jaemin’s on laundry duty this week, and is being mindful of what colours are supposed to go together according to the laminated piece of paper Shotaro taped above the washing machine.
“Knowing him, he probably would offer to pay your uni fee too.” Mark tosses up a pair of bundled-up socks as he says this. “Wait, so where do you work now?”
“At the new restaurant, you know the haunted place just past the park?” Mark hums as he says this. “I’m a waitress, er, waiter there now. From Friday to Sunday. Which is good because I only have classes throughout the weekday.”
“And you barely get invited out during the weekends anyways,” Mark snickers as he says this, but misses catching the sock as Jaemin grabs a pair of used underwear and throws it directly at the boy, barely missing the undergarment as he looks at him wide-eyed. Words of ‘ew dude’ and ‘that’s gross’ goes into one ear and out the other as he picks the briefs back up and shoves them in the washing machine, closing its door and starting it off.
“Well, I have a good feeling about it this time,”
“Are you gonna blame the ghost for your- wait, did you put any detergent in?”
“ …Does it not come with detergent already?”
Jaemin picks a lint off of his shoulder, before smoothing his hand down his shirt and his pants next. He was told to wear an all-black attire, not sweatpants or hoods, so he stuck with a simple t-shirt and some black jeans. He doesn’t know why he’s exceptionally nervous this time when all the other times he was only caught praying to last more than a weeks worth of paycheck. For some reason, he’s not keen on crossing his boss this time - Jaehyun seems scary.
Stepping forward, his hands find the handle and with one deep breath, he pushes the door. Except it doesn’t budge.
He steps back and looks through the glass of the door, seeing if anyone is inside. When he doesn’t find anyone, he pushes once more, and one more time with all his body weight; yet it doesn’t budge.
“I swear they asked me to come in at four,” He fishes his phone out of his pocket, looking at the time while his face stays squished against the door. Not even a second later, he hears the click of the door unlocking, and before his reflex could take over and help him step back, he’s launched forward and onto the ground.
“Oh my god, are you okay? Why would you cling to the door like that?” Your voice reaches his ears as he’s situated on the floor, and he then realises that his fingers were latched onto the door handle when you pulled the door to let him in.
Your slack-covered knees come into his vision first, before your face enters his view, albeit upside down.
“You didn’t get a concussion from that alone, did you?” Sounding so serious, Jaemin couldn’t help but laugh slightly at your words as he pushes himself up to his elbows, brushing at his shirt before inspecting it for any dirt. So much for looking wanting to look presentable.
“Jaehyun’s not here yet, and Kun’s stepped out just then,” Jaemin realises this is the most he’s heard you speak since the first time he’s seen you, as he sees your standing figure reaches a hand out to him, offering to help him up. He gladly accepts it, but is mindful to not pull all his weight.
“Oh,” Is all he can muster, now sheepish at the fact that your second impression of him is not any better than the first. His eyes scan around the place as he finds new additions since last week, such as a few ink-wash paintings on the wall and paper lanterns lining down the ceiling instead of the LED lamps that Jaemin saw last. Even the staff counter looks more lived in compared to the glimpse he caught before, with what looks like a brand new electric kettle and two mugs with silicone lids, one with a peach and another with a bear as their handles.
Not knowing what else to say, his eyes seek yours for any sort of initiative; hoping that you will catch his gaze and give a smile, all while explaining to him the in’s and out of this place, like how should he take orders, if there’s a particular way to fold the tissues that are placed on the tables, and if the Fujian fried rice of this restaurant is the one with or without pumpkin. Simple details.
But you all but look back at him, instead you drop your gaze away from him entirely and go to the staff counter at the back of the restaurant, picking up and taking a look at the kettle before you go behind the curtains that lead to the kitchen, out of Jaemin’s sight. He’s not sure if he’s even allowed there as a rookie staff, so he doesn’t play with his luck and instead trudges behind the counter at the door. After a few minutes of poking and prodding at things like the card reader and a pen cup, the front door swings open and in comes a tall man with red hair, holding plastic bags full of an assortment of things from food to cutlery.
“Oh, you must be Jaemin,” Jaemin straightens his back at the mention of his name, nodding his head and bowing in lieu of a greeting. The man trudges through the restaurant, the bursting plastic bags bumping into the chairs every now and then, and not long after the door swings open once more to reveal Jaehyun.
“Jaemin! You’re,” He gives his watch a glance, “On time! How pleasant, come, have you met Kun? Let’s go into the kitchen first.” Jaehyun manages to say this all with an expressionless face, but Jaemin does not feel like he’s being condescending, following his now-boss silently through the restaurant, past the main staff counter and the curtains and into the kitchen. Boxes are perched on the metal counters of the restaurant’s kitchen, filled with what Jaemin guesses are the containers for the ingredients of the dishes, and some restaurant plates, as well as takeaway boxes and bags. You’re taking out the abundance of takeaway container lids from boxes that take up two-thirds of your height, stocking them up on the top shelf.
“Kun, have you met Jaemin? I’m not sure we’ve given him a proper tour of the place,” Jaemin doesn’t think he’s gotten any sort of tour of the whole place, so all he does is politely shake his head.
Kun grunts as he places another big box next to your unpacking figure, the impact of it barely making you flinch. He looks at Jaehyun before his gaze falls on Jaemin, and with a smile and a wave of his hand, he goes through the backdoor of the kitchen without looking back.
Jaemin is guided through the whole place, with Kun showing him the storage room and the cold room, which conveniently has a sliding door; the singular bathroom of the whole place, and the main part of the restaurant.
“You don’t need to prepare much for tomorrow, it says in your resume that you’ve worked in a lot of places for short amounts of time, which gives me the impression that you can pick up traits easily,” Jaemin delivers a stiff smile as he feels Kun clasp a friendly hand on his shoulder. “Me and Jaehyun will just tell you the way we work, but first I need you to help with the unpacking. Any questions?”
Jaemin nods his head, taking the chance to now ask his burning question. “Will I get paid for today?”
Kun just laughs and pats him twice on the shoulder, shaking his head and heading to the kitchen, shoulders bunching up now and then.
Tasked with the job of organising the cutlery, Jaemin places the metal spoons and forks into the cutlery tray placed next to the plates and bowls for setting up the tables. You’re here too, wiping down the window and the glass door, emitting any sort of stain. Jaemin tries his best to not let his gaze wander on for too long, wanting to be in your good books. From what it seems, you seem just as important as both Kun and Jaehyun, so he doesn’t want to risk doing anything wrong, or piss you off. He also thinks you’re really pretty and would like to ask you out, but that’s beside the point.
It’s when you’re getting up from wiping the bottom of the window when you hear the clatter of plastic. Turning around, your eyes widen when you see Jaemin and the plastic forks he was supposed to put away at his feet.
“I…” There goes Jaemin’s one and only chance. He isn’t even being paid for this and he’s gonna get fired, right in front of the person he was trying to rizz up, too. Before he can say anymore and save his reputation, you whizz past him and into the kitchen, the curtains flying around you but you’re mindful enough to shut them back, not letting the sight of Jaemin with a bunch of forks splayed around him like he’s being sacrificed to the fast-food culinary Gods. He hears Kun and Jaehyun’s voices coming through the curtains, variations of them asking if everything is alright, to which you answer with the clutter of pots and pans.
Coming back with a big metal bowl, Jaemin’s eyes widen as you kneel — for the second time today — at his legs, picking up the forks frantically and placing them in the metal basin.
“Are you gonna help?”
And now he’s on his knees too. Scooping up the forks and placing them in the bowl, once every single fork is off the floor, you rush towards the undermount sink at the corner of the staff counter just as footsteps echo from the kitchen and Jaheyun’s figure emerges.
“Is everything good?” Jaemin feels paralysed, unable to decipher anything since the doom he felt spilling all the single-use forks onto the floor.
“Yup,” You answer nonchalantly, filling up the basin full of forks with water and a few drops of dish soap. “Just thought to rinse these clean first before…” You pause for a second as you look at Jaemin, before trailing your gaze to Jaehyun with a smile. “Before Jaemin organises them.”
Jaehyun simply nods his head before he trudges back to the kitchen, and Jaemin barely gets to utter a ‘thank you’ before you walk past him and into the kitchen.
“So she just helped you? That simply?” Jaemin’s smile is all but smug, as he cracks open his beer and clinks it against Marks, both taking generous sips.
“What can I say? I charmed her with my natural skills,”
“The natural skills of messing things up,” Mark scoffs at him before leaning over to get a piece of fried chicken out of the takeout box. “She probably pitied you for making a rookie mistake.” He starts munching on the chicken and hums in delight, following it with a sip of his beer. Jaemin reaches to pick up a pickled radish.
“Well, rookie mistake or not, she likes me enough to help me. You should come to work tomorrow for the grand opening, and while you’re at it bring everyone else too; I swear she doesn’t even like people,” Mark laughs in delight at Jaemin’s invitation, promising to come up with something.
Mouth full, he asks, “How long do you think you’ll last?”
“Swallow your fucking food first before jetting all your spit at me dude,”
In the same black polo shirt, Jaemin steps in at noon, just like his boss number one (Kun) asked him to, while boss number two (Jaehyun) had emphasised that calling him this early is to ease him in easier into the culinary business. Jaemin doesn’t mind, he’s just glad that he’s being paid for today's work.
He greets you with a wave as soon as he gets in, to which you wave back before going to the kitchen and announcing his presence.
“Jaemin’s here now,” You come back out and stand at the staff counter, taking the kettle and filling it up with water to boil. Going behind the counter, he places his phone and earbuds into his pocket, remembering that they were prohibited unless he’s on his break. Once the water is boiled, you pour it into the two mugs Jaemin remembers seeing yesterday, before putting it back on its stand and taking the mugs back into the kitchen.
Jaemin simply fiddles around, not knowing what to do. It looks like his presence on Friday was needed to set things up, but now that it’s all done, he can only wait for a customer to walk or call in, or either one of you to give him a command; he’s weary this time ‘round to not fuck anything up.
Coming back out right behind Kun, you busy yourself at the counter next to the door while Kun comes up to Jaemin, patting him on the back.
“Don’t worry about doing much today, it’s just a soft opening and not a lot of people know about our business anyways. I’m just expecting maybe two or three takeaway orders and just a handful of tables. This could be a good chance for you to bond with each other, yeah?” But before Jaemin could take in the fact that Kun had wanted some sort of bonding to happen, his mind got caught on the words ‘soft opening’.
“Wait, so today’s only the …soft opening.” Careful with his tone, Jaemin tries to make it sound like he’s just restating a fact rather than being surprised. Kun is too busy drinking from his hot water to notice Jaemin’s nervous front.
“Yup, Jaehyun and I decided it would be best to have a grand opening maybe after we got to test the waters out.” He places the silicon lid with the bear cover back on his cup to retain the heat, and Jaemin really can’t help but feel like something bad is brewing. But before he could even voice out a word, the door to the restaurant opens with a bell resounding, and in swarm a pack of ten or so customers, and a blob that looks like Mark.
“Yoo, this place is quite neat,” Apparently it talks like Mark too.
Both shocked still with wide eyes, trying to make sense of where and how this many people all came together into the restaurant just minutes after the soft opening, Jaemin just hopes that nothing about Mark and what seems like a club he gathered from the university can be somehow linked back to him. It doesn’t seem like the universe is keen on taking his side, however, as he sees Mark’s eyes squint and searches around the restaurant, knowingly searching for him. Jaemin doesn’t know why he hasn’t tried looking at where the general staff area would be, like at the door or where he’s currently situated, but before he could duck to hide or face his impending doom, you miraculously step in.
“Hello, welcome to Tao Village, how can I help you?” You sport a kind but mute smile, hands clasped together politely.
“Yeah, can I have, like, a table or something?”
“Sure, for how many people?”
“Ooh! Good question… I think there’s like, ten of us at the moment.”
“Is it alright if I were to ask you to sit separately? Since you’re walking in, we didn’t have the opportunity to set up. Just in two groups of three and one table for four maybe?” Jaemin doesn’t know how you do it, but his shoulders sag when Mark gives you a thumbs up, going back to the group of people all loitering around the entrance, telling them that they will just break into subunits.
Kun has somehow slipped away without any notice, which left just Jaemin behind the counter for you to encounter when you head towards the bottled water in the fridge. “Can you help me with the water? I’ll take their orders and you can just follow along first,” With a nod of his head, you press the bottle into his hands, waving him off as you reach for a server notepad, writing down table numbers and heading to the tables.
With your presence and the two chefs busy in the kitchen, Jaemin doesn’t do much but avoid eye contact with Mark and listen to you pick up the scarce phone orders that come through; trying his best to learn how to pick up such skill. After the third time of the phone ringing and Jaemin staying in place, simply looking at you to pick up the phone, you pick it up and press the answer button, before pressing it against his ear and giving an encouraging nod.
It turns out to be a scam call, with the person on the other end attempting to sell Jaemin a double-doored fridge with a touch screen and dual ice and water dispenser, all while Jaemin tries to promote the restaurant.
“With the dual dispenser, you can fill your glass up with both water and ice at the same time so your water doesn’t go too cold on the first si-“
“The mapo tofu is a great dish to order, as tofu proves to be a primary source of iron, easily accessible and cheap with the rising price of meat.”
“…It’s a Samsung model which has been on limited release—“
“Do you want the food or not?”
(The telemarketer hesitates just a bit before stating that they’ll call another time.)
Nothing else happens, you two go to the kitchen whenever a sound of the bell ringing resounds, signalling that a dish is ready to be served, and Jaemin uses all of his brain power and logic skills to pick up dishes that are for tables that Mark isn't seated at.
He successfully gets to do all that is required of him and stealthily avoids Mark, silently celebrating as he sees you place fortune cookies at every table, signalling that it’s time for them to pay the bill and leave.
But of course, nothing good ever lasts.
“Jaemin, bro,” Mark must’ve been some assassin in his past life because Jaemin barely notices him creeping up to him until he’s already wrapped in a handshake and a bro hug. “Well done dude, you barely made a mistake today. Yo, the food was good too, you should bring back some of the Mongolian lambs every now and then, yeah? I’ll see you later,” And with two claps on his back, he’s fishing his pockets for spare change as he heads towards the front counter and near the door, finding a singular coin before placing it in your palm, smiling as if he’s single-handedly pulled you out of poverty.
“Your friend?” You murmur towards him, looking at the coin in distaste.
“Yeah, unfortunately so.”
“I can’t do it,” Jaemin is shaking his head and hands vehemently; making him feel even more sick than he was.
You roll your eyes at him, holding the restaurant's phone in your hand. “You have to start somewhere, you can’t just avoid it now and expect to be miraculously good one day. I swear once you learn how to pick up phone orders you’ll only want to do that.” You explain, before putting your free hand out, palm facing up, encouraging Jaemin to do the same. Once he follows, not without a lot of hesitation, of course, you gently place the phone in his hand, closing his fingers around it with two hands before giving it a light pat.
“Now,” You pick up Jaehyun's phone that's placed on the counter, dialling the restaurant's number before placing yourself on the other side of the restaurant to cease any echoes. “I’m gonna call and act like a customer, you try writing down the order details.” With a nod of his head, you press the dial and turn the other way around, opting to look away to make Jaemin less nervous.
With a deep breath in, he picks up. “Hi, welcome to Tao Village,” He pauses, looking at you for any sign of motivation, but continues when he notices you waiting. “What would you like to order?”
“Jaemin,” Your voice sounds in the dining area and not through the phone, as you turn slightly to look at him with the phone tucked into your chest. “Some customers might not order food straight away. Maybe try asking how you can be of assistance,”
“Hello, welcome to Tao Village restaurant. Uh, how can I help?” Jaemin tries again, to which you reply with a bunch of dish names, asking for the different types of sauces that come with the mixed vegetables, as he tries his best to answer with what he remembers and writes down the prices of each dish from the takeaway menu.
“Uh, okay. Is that, did you want anything else?”
“Nope, I’m good. What's the total?” Jaemin fumbles with the calculator, shoulders hunched over the counter, punching in the numbers and writing down the total on the piece of paper. “That would be around 38,000 won.”
“Are you sure?” This time your voice is right by his ear without the phone pressed against it, your arm brushing against his side. Jaemin doesn’t even have the time to be scared, distracted by the proximity of you two as you reach over and use the calculator.
“It came up to 42,000 won. Did you forget to calculate the buns?”
“Oh,” Jaemin splutters. “Maybe, my bad.” Although this all sounds so new to Jaemin, he doesn’t feel as overwhelmed as he thought he would; with every other job he had, there would be someone assigned to help Jaemin understand the ropes of the place, but everyone else would add something on too, like how folding clothes the ‘Marie Kondo way’ was is even more efficient, even if that defeats the whole purpose of displaying a t-shirt at a department store.
You coach him through the quirks one by one, not moving on until Jaemin shows that he’s somewhat picked up the action. It all feels like a dream come true, with you guiding him as if you know that he couldn’t last a week into his job without actually knowing that. He’s just not sure how effective it will be in the long run. And it turns out that he doesn’t need to wait long to find out, as the ringing of the phone echoes in the restaurant devoid of any noise except for the soft piano background music.
Nodding your head at him, Jaemin picks up the phone and only hesitates for half a ring before he presses accept, bringing the phone to his ear and repeating the welcome phrase. It all goes well, with the customer asking if they can make a phone order for pick up, to which Jaemin replies ‘Why yes, of course you may’, and the sound of a car door closing sounds through the phones speakers, and suddenly the quality of the customers' voice sounds like hot garbage as their phone connects to their cars’ bluetooth.
“Sorry, did you say you wanted mixed vegetables in rooster sauce? Sorry, we don’t offer— oh. Oyster sauce. Yup,” You look at him with a confused look on your face, curious as to why Jaemin can’t understand the person when everything was good. The furrow of your eyebrows and the scratching sound from the phone sets Jaemin off, as the customer mutters something about ‘how many times do I have to repeat myself?’.
Jaemin writes down what he can understand, writing down the name ‘Kai’ and giving the customer the estimated waiting time, before hanging up the phone.
“See, that wasn’t so bad,” You give him a pat on the shoulder, taking the slip of paper from his hand, wincing as you take a look at the scribbles writing of the dish names and their prices. “It’ll just go up from here. Hey, tell you what, why don’t you try remembering the ingredients of our fried rice, and see if you can differentiate between which one is the normal one and the special one without looking at the names, yeah? I’ll go help set up the ingredients for cooking these dishes,” And with one last tap, you disappear behind the curtains, taking a pen with you and correcting the mistakes before providing it to the two chefs.
You’re busy talking at a table of customers when the door swings open and in walks a customer, which leaves Jaemin to tend to them instead. With a customer service smile, he clears his throat and greets them.
“How can I help you?”
“Oh, I’m here to pick up an order. Under the name Kim I think? Sorry, I didn’t place the order but my dad did.” The woman scrolls through her phone as she says this, looking at what Jaemin guesses to be an exchange of texts between her and her dad. He ducks a bit to look at the dock under the table, where all the takeaways are brought and placed with the order slip attached to them with a piece of tape. He sees one with the name Kim and picks it up, removing the attached slip and placing it on top of the counter while the lady reaches for her wallet.
“Okay, uh, did you order the sweet and sour pork, with a large fried rice?” Jaemin reads off the food, a procedure you emphasised was important when dealing with takeaway orders. The lady nods, impatient as she swings her card around. He looks at the price at the end of the paper before punching it into the machine. Once the transaction goes through successfully and a receipt is printed, the woman quickly snatches the handle of the takeaway plastic bag and nods her head goodbye. Jaemin senses that something is wrong, off maybe even, and so he looks at the copy of the receipt and the contents of the order slip, looking at the other orders waiting at the dock and their contents and seeing that they all match their slips, and so with a shrug, he sets off to go back to the staff counter.
It isn’t until ten minutes pass that his wrongdoing was confirmed, as you call for his name from across the restaurant while sifting through the takeaway orders, a customer patiently looking over to see your interaction. He pulls up beside you, squatting down eye-level to the dock like you are before he whispers, “Did I do something wrong?”
“Where is the order for Kim? The one with the fried rice and sweet and sour pork? I remember bringing it here when it was packed at the back.” Jaemin feels his blood run cold at the mention of the order, a clear replay of his interaction with the woman coming in full blast.
“Oh… that…” At this, you pause your search and look at Jaemin, whose breath hitches at the short distance between your faces, courtesy of your crouched figures. You close your eyes, breathing in deeply to calm your nerves, before straightening up at lightning speed, knocking Jaemin over and onto the ground with an ‘oof’.
“Your order is still not ready yet, sorry for the inconvenience. I’ll go and check up on the progress, did you want to take a seat while you wait?” You smile at the customer, who nods back and says something about not minding the wait. You walk over Jaemin’s bent knees on the ground, going past him and into the kitchen.
He picks himself up quickly, making brief eye contact with the customer before looking at the curtains which you walked into. He’s doomed, you’re gonna tell Jaehyun and Kun about the mistake you made, and they’re gonna come out mad with their sleeves pulled up, ready to beat the shit out of him. He should’ve taken the self-defence class his mom recommended to him when he was twelve, maybe then he could do something to make the pain afterwards not hurt as much.
But before he could think about running out of the place with the bowl of fortune cookies (compensation for the beating that is due… possibly), you come back out, heading for the sink and filling up a glass of water while you place it on the table that the real Kim sits at.
“Shouldn’t be too long, they’re just finishing up on the sweet and sour pork. Here some water while you wait.” And now Jaemin is confused. He’s still on the floor of the restaurant with his brows furrowed and mouth hung open as if he’s gonna start throwing a temper tantrum. Your eyes widen ever so slightly when you catch a glimpse of him still on the ground where you left him, but your professionalism pushes through as you widen the smile on your face with a hum, before shuffling away towards his direction when the customer looks away. Pulling him up, Jaemin is only able to offer you a few murmurs of random words to voice his confusion.
“They’re making a new batch, I figured that someone provided a similar name and didn’t know the order details, which is why they accepted it. Don’t worry, they don’t know that you mixed it up,” Jaemin feels a sense of relief wash over him, looking at you with what he knows to be his puppy eyes; you make sure to look away.
“Isn’t it like, against the rules to not tell them?”
“Well, if you like rules so much, you can go ahead and take this takeaway order to the back and confess. Or you can split its payment with me and take what you like home. While you decide what to do, I’ll call the customer you gave the wrong order to and offer some apology coupon.” If it was professional to, Jaemin would give you the biggest head; but unfortunately, this isn’t the film industry, and so he sticks to the next best thing, which is to just look at you longingly.
In hindsight, five weeks have passed and Jaemin is still an employee of Tao Village, surpassing his longest streak of two weeks and five days at the retail store. Which calls for a celebration.
“To Jaemin,” Shotaro opens a can of beer with one hand, which truly impresses Jaemin, because he didn’t think that he knew what alcohol was, let alone drink it. “Who can finally pay his half of the rent on time,”
“You’re too nice, Shotaro,” Mark clinks his can against his and Jaemin’s at the toast, taking a sip. “I would’ve kicked him out as soon as he somehow disconnected the house's water system. You guys had to shower at the campus locker rooms for a week.”
Shotaro simply laughs as Jaemin lunges at Mark. “You don’t even live here, why do you keep coming? You should pay rent at this point too, fucker,”
Mark shoves at Jaemin’s face, which was really close to biting his shoulder, effectively avoiding a months-long bruise. He scooches away on the couch, leaning against the handle and sipping his beer. Jaemin picks up a piece of takeaway fried chicken, and it’s with his mouthful when Shotaro asks how he’s liking the place.
“It’s okay, it’s not too busy since it just opened and no one really knows of its existence. Except for when Mark brought a shitton of people on its soft opening day,”
“You told me it was the gran-”
“Anyway, thankfully I didn’t get into trouble for that. But I was close all the other times…”
Mark snorts while Shotaro mumbles something about how well Jaemin is doing. “What, did you do all the cliche mistakes?”
“Define cliche,” Jaemin speaks after taking another bite of the chicken, making Mark kick at his thigh lightly. “Like, did you spill red wine on a customer? Or break a plate, or write down the wrong order. You know, restaurant waiter cliches.” Jaemin ponders for a second at this, thinking back to his five weeks of employment at the place.
“Not quite…” He tilts his head in thought, but before he could follow it up with anything, Shotaro and Mark clink their drinks together from opposite sides of the couch.
“Then that means you’ve finally healed! Let’s celebrate while we can,” Mark and Shotaro both chug at their drinks, and Jaemin would be ecstatic to join if it weren’t for the fact that it’s only three pm in the afternoon. But also because he doesn’t think he can celebrate yet.
“Shotaro, did you know about this person Jaemin’s working with as well? He has a massive boner for her but like, they barely interact.” Shotaro chuckles at this, glancing at Jaemin whose face is now red as he stumbles for an excuse.
“She must be really nice if you like her; does she help you around a lot?” Shotaro questions, making Jaemin flush even more.
“If only you knew,”
He picks up a carton of Sprite from the ground of the cold room, goosebumps erupt all over his forearms as Jaemin hurries out of the place, closing the door shut with his foot. Shuffling past the two chefs cooking and back into the dining area, he briefly searches for you before he finds you at the basin at the staff counter, washing the used cups.
“I brought the carton,” He announces, making you turn around.
“Thanks, do you mind placing it here? You can open the carton but be careful when you put it at the edge, it can spill out.” Your fingers are covered in sud as you point at the counter next to you. With a nod of his head, he perches the carton on the counter, half of it hanging out with the cluster of items placed, not providing enough room. As he gently prods open the cardboard packaging, he glances at you, back facing him as you lather the cups in soap one by one. Before he could continue with his task with his newfound motivation (your existence), you lean over and open the door to the mini glasswasher, backing up against him as you place the cups in.
He averts his gaze quickly, eyes wide from seeing you bend over like that, not wanting to lose his feminist streak from letting his mind wander so easily. As he continues to prod at the Sprite container, he feels the briefest brush of your legs against his, and he completely splutters, accidentally hooking his finger at the opening of the carton and ripping it open, making all the cans stacked against each other topple out and over the edge of the counter, one by one making an impact with the floor.
With a screech and a poor attempt of stopping the cans in motion, he squats to make it to the cans before they fully fall to the floor. But it seems like, yet again, the universe is not on his side, because not only does he fail to catch most of the descending drinks, the bridge of his nose makes contact with the edge of the counter, making him join the cans on the floor.
“Oh my god,” You’re shocked by the view in front of you, like some sort of twisted Renaissance painting. You reach down, and just as Jaemin is about to tell you not to worry about him, and that he can just die a beautiful death with the cans surrounding him, you pick up the fallen cans, inspecting them for any damage.
“You’re lucky none of these popped open, the floor would be sticky for days,” You mutter as you place the cans back on top of the counter, separating the ones that turned out fine and the dented ones. All the while Jaemin lies there, his nose throbbing, contemplating how he’s lasted here so far.
“Aren’t you gonna tell them?” He closes his eyes as he gently presses his cold fingers against his nose bridge, soothing the pain. The answer seems to be an obvious ‘yes’ if your lack of reply is anything to go by. A few seconds pass and he feels the cold contact of a can replacing where his hands were on his features, and when he opens his eyes, he sees your face above his, inspecting him.
“What is there to say? That you’re on the ground fighting against a nosebleed?” You taunt, removing the can and inspecting the spot with the gentle press of your fingers. Grabbing his hand and opening his palm, you place the dented can you used gesturing to his face.
“You can drink it once you’re done, they won’t notice,” Jaemin sits up as you say this, bringing the can up to his nose, pressing the cold against it as he watches you go back to turning on the machine and walking away, tending to other restaurant responsibilities.
Notepad and pen in hand, Jaemin walks to the table that raised their hand at him and delivers his best customer service smile. “Hello, welcome back to Tao. Would you like to order?” You had given Jaemin the heads up to look after this table exclusively.
“They’re this group of ladies that have nothing to do but spend their significant others’ money. They come like, almost every second day; something about wanting to support local businesses. And they give generous tips. No one does that.” You sigh. “I wish I had that much free time.”
The women smile at him, seemingly charmed. Jaemin knows the power he holds, and he also knows that if he bunches up his cheeks just right, he can have any woman over the age of fifty want to pinch them.
“What a charismatic boy,” one of them comments, and he blinks his eyes and tilts his head, smile still on his face feeling just slightly strained as he politely rejects the compliment, feigning humility.
“Okay, well can we start our entrees with a set of fried dim sims and spring rolls, and for the main course we’ll have the mapo tofu, fried rice— did you say you wanted Hokkien mee? One of those too please, and a serving of mixed vegetables with oyster sauce and chicken chow mien. No mushrooms for either, please. And for drinks, we’ll just have three tsingtao’s and one glass of Shiraz.” The woman drones, and Jaemin has a bit of difficulty catching up and writing down all the dishes she’s named, and so he repeats it all back once it’s done; a practice heavily encouraged by you.
When Jaemin finishes listing the dishes back and receives four nodding heads, he smiles in thanks and head’s to the kitchen, yelling out ‘New order!’ for the chefs to be aware of. Coming back out and placing a copy of the notepad at the staff counter, his smile turns genuine when he sees you, showcasing two thumbs up.
Now bashful, he says “I think I’ve replaced you as ‘favourite waiter’ now.” His smile is cheeky as he says this, with you rolling your eyes, pointing at the fridge near the counter instead. “Stop spewing bullshit and get the drinks ready. I’ll write down the prices of each dish.” With a salute and nod of his head, he goes to fetch the drinks from the fridge and the bottle of red wine nearby, as well as an empty wine glass.
Preparing the drinks, your shoulders brush against each other in the tight space of the staff counter, with you looking back and forth between the menu and the order slip. Jaemin misses when your eyebrows furrow together, inspecting the slip for something.
“Uhm, Jaemin,” He hums back in response, eyes still focused on pouring no more than one standard drink of the wine. “Did you tell the kitchen that this is the table with a mushroom allergy?”
Jaemin’s heart drops to his ass.
His posture straightens immediately, vision zeroing in on the table he just took the order of, as his head slowly turns to you, a million thoughts run around in his head. With the expression he sports, you quickly grab a pen and a highlighter, running back into the kitchen as quickly as possible. Scanning the restaurant, when he sees all the customers occupied, he slowly slips away and into the kitchen, leaving them unattended to somehow save his ass, and from a possible murder case.
“—do you mean there’s a mushroom allergy? And why did none of you tell us? Of course the mixed vegetables and chow mien have vegetables in them.” Kun speaks as he cooks on the wok, lifting it every now and then as the clang of his wok’s spatula echoes out, mixing around the satay chicken.
“He wrote it down but just forgot to say it out loud,” You bluff, pointing at the copy of the slip that Jaemin brought back into the kitchen, now adorning the words ‘NO MUSHROOM’ in bold, highlighted letters at the top. Your other hand is clasped behind your back, holding the pen and highlighter. Jaehyun momentarily stops making his fried rice, coming up to the counter, and looking at you over it before snatching the slip, his aggressive manner making Jaemin wince slightly.
With a poor squint of his eyes, you and Jaemin wait with bated breaths for him to somehow finish reading the two words. When his eyes stop squinting, he spares a look at both you and Jaemin, placing the slip back down onto the counter before reaching into the bowl containing the ingredients for the dishes, fishing out the mushrooms and putting them back from where he originally picked them up, waving you both off. And you barely waste any time, muttering a sorry and going towards the curtains, pushing Jaemin out with you.
“Sorry. Thank you.” He doesn’t know what else to say, looking at you while you ignore his gaze so close to your face, centring him back to the staff counter. You shake your head and hand at him as if to say that he has nothing to be sorry about.
“Mistakes happen. Now can you put the puppy eyes away? We have a new customer to serve.”
“I’m not that stupid to bel— Hi, welcome to Tao Village. How can I help you?”
“Jaemin, do you think you could give the Chardonnay to table three? It’s for the man with the glasses,” You ask as you calculate the total of a takeaway order you just took, glancing at him to see if he’s available.
“Sure,” It turns out that you’ve already set out the glass and the bottle, as he opens the cap and pours it in, before taking a tray and placing the glass on it. You’ve taught him a few times to hold the tray with one hand, but he’s taking it slow and only using a single hand with drinks and sauces that he’s asked to deliver, not wanting to be too ambitious. Balancing it, he eyes for table number three and said man with glasses, strategically planning to swiftly arrive and deliver the drink.
As he waltz’s his way through, with his vision zeroed in on the customer, he completely misses the lady at the table before wanting to get out of her chair, completely skidding it across the floor and making an impact on Jaemin’s side.
Everything is suddenly carried out in slow motion, as he sees the fright on the woman's face, the tilt of his body and tray towards the customer settled on the table, the white wine toppling over the rim of the glass. If he retains his focus, maybe he can slow-mo recover and balance himself, only causing the wine to spill on the ground and maybe himself. He is willing to sacrifice his (Shotaro’s) black t-shirt.
Then he blinks.
A groan echoes and silent gasps are spilt, as he opens his eyes and sees first the man drenched in white wine, and Jaemin’s hand on his arm, balancing himself. Before he could even separate himself and apologise profusely, he is suddenly grabbed by the collar, and in his head, he’s already commemorating the lovely memories he’s made here with you and mourns how quickly he has to abandon the delusion that you two will end up together.
With one eye squeezed close, he’s not sure if it’s better to expect a punch or a slap against his face, but before he can anticipate either, he hears someone say “Excuse me, sir,”
“What do you want,” The man snarls at you, as you make eye contact with him, a silent customer-service-smile sported on your face as always.
“Apologies sir, but we don’t accept this sort of behaviour in our restaurant. Violence is not part of our values. I do ask of you to let out staff member go, you’re scaring him.” Jaemin can’t help but nod his head at the man, who glares at him before letting him go and jamming a finger into Jaemin’s chest.
“This boy spilt my drink all over me, how is that a part of your values?” He yells, making Jaemin wince at the loud volume, but you merely blink, stepping forward and closer to the customer, lowering your voice in an attempt to get him to soften his, too.
“I’m sorry for the inconvenience caused sir, but this sort of behaviour is not tolerated. If you would allow our staff to apologise and we’ll-”
The customer scoffs, “Apologise? An apology isn’t gonna fix the stain caused on my shirt. Isn’t the customer always right? Who the fuck are you to speak to me like this,” He shoves you at your shoulder as he says this, causing you to stumble back into Jaemin’s figure, whose arms shoot out and hold you by the waist.
The curtains leading to the kitchen skid aside, and out steps Jaehyun. It all feels so dramatic if Jaemin were to look at it from a perspective of an outsider, as Jaehyun walks over to you three, his figure looming over all of you.
His smile is blinding, dimples forming on both his cheeks as he clasps his hands together. “Out,” Is all he says, hand now facing the door of the restaurant.
The man blanches. “But—”
Jaehyun merely shakes his head in a stern manner, smile suddenly dropping, pursing his lips as if taunting a child. Without making contact with the customer, he guides him gently towards the door, before the man gets the memo and stomps his way out. Jaehyun turns to the remaining customers at the table, providing a formal apology and confiding in them that they simply don’t tolerate this sort of behaviour towards their staff.
“Would you like to pack away your remaining food? You can pay at the counter just at the front, thank you for your understanding and apologies for the inconvenience,” And with that, he steps back into the kitchen, curtains shutting close as if they barely jostled. As you and Jaemin pick up the plates and pack the food into takeaway containers, Jaemin slowly approaches you, his arm brushing against yours.
“Are you okay,” He asks, voice solemn. It never feels nice to get yelled at by a customer, Jaemin’s just used to it, but he forgets that it can take a toll on different people.
Your smile is shy, barely looking in his direction as you click to close the lid of the container, grabbing both of your containers before placing them in a takeaway bag. “Yeah, I’m okay.” without a second glance, you walk to the front counter, giving the bag to the customer as well as the receipt.
“Can you two close up? Kun and I have to get up early tomorrow to make it to the fish market before the good quality scallops all sell out.” Jaehyun says this later in the day, as he folds his apron and places it on the staff counter. “I’ve already mopped the back. Do you have the keys?” He looks at you as he says this, to which you nod and give a thumbs up. With a nod of his head, he goes through the back door of the restaurant, leaving you two alone. Jaemin mops as you wipe the tables clean, preparing them to be set up once again tomorrow. Silence engulfs you two, with the only sounds being the slosh of the mop in the bucket and the scrape of chairs as you manoeuvre around them.
Jaemin decides that this is a good time to speak up. “Thank you for doing that,” He continues pumping the mop into the drainer part of the bucket, removing all excess water before plopping it back down. “I wouldn’t have minded if he had smacked me,” At this you laugh, cheeks bunching up cutely making Jaemin’s heart flutter.
“Did you want him to smack you?” You look into his eyes this time, the lights of the restaurant reflecting in your iris’. Jaemin thinks he could get used to this.
“Are you kink-shaming me? I doubt that’s allowed within the Tao VIllage values,”
“I’m not too sure. Hey, why don't we talk to the boss about it tomorrow?”
Jaemin’s grin is cheshire-like, “Wouldn't be the worst conversation I’d have,” At that you raise an eyebrow, to which he throws a wink. A comfortable silence engulfs the two of you, as you continue with your tasks, working around one another and you avoid the places Jaemin has freshly mopped while he manoeuvres himself around you.
It’s when you’re outside of the place and locking the doors, sizing up and down the door to put all the locks in place when you speak up. “You don’t have to thank me, by the way. People make mistakes, and Jaehyun would be less mad at me than at you. Plus, Kun doesn’t care like that either, as long as he can run this business, you can break as many cartons of drinks as you desire,” Looking over your shoulder, you catch Jaemin gazing at you, the same puppy eyes leering at you. Looking away, you pick up your stuff from the ground, wanting to bid him goodbye and completely disappear, maybe quit this job and move countries and settle down with a farming family of seven that don’t mind an additional one person to work their fields and pet their cows as a form of cattle therapy. Anything but face Jaemin’s face abd his ridiculously handsome features.
But before you could begin your progress, Jaemin calls out your name, making you turn around to face him once more. Thankfully, there’s no sign of the puppy eyes, but he is smiling.
“Since it’s a Sunday and we have a day off tomorrow, do you want to grab some food with me?”
The warmth from the broth and fishcake in your cup seeps into your hand, preventing them from getting too cold in the Autumn breeze. Jaemin counts his notes under the red and yellow haze of the fishcake stall, handing them to the old lady once he collects the right amount. The woman snatches the notes once Jaemin presents them and counts them twice, nodding her head in dismissal when she’s done.
Picking up his cup, the two of you manoeuvre yourself around the park and settle on a free bench, looking out into the lit-up park, with parents and kids at the playground while adults settle their picnic mats and huddle around near the fairy-lit trees; the Central park seems to be teeming with more people with the sudden shift of seasons, as people embrace the coming cold by celebrating in their own ways. Kids scream at the top of their lungs when sliding down a steep slide, and adults teem with laughter as they swish their wine in their plastic glasses.
Picking out a stick of fishcake from the cup full of broth, you blow on it a few times before biting into it, settling into the park bench more comfortably as the warmth of the food engulfs you. Excluding the bustle of people, you and Jaemin sit quietly as you indulge in your food.
But the silence doesn’t last long. “I don’t know how kids are so agile at such a young age. Like, aren’t their bones basically jelly?” Jaemin points at the few kids climbing up ropes at the playground, taking them to a tall slide as a reward.
“It doesn’t look too hard,” You quip, head leaning closer to Jaemin as you look at the kids climbing up vicariously. Jaemin turns to look at you, making you realise just how close you leaned in. “You think you could climb that?”
“At my age? Easy,” You scoff, leaning back and away, now feeling more flustered. If Jaemin catches on to your behaviour, he doesn’t make it obvious, sipping on the broth in his cup and opting to ask you about your favourite playground equipment.
“Thank you for the fishcakes,” You pat your stomach, smiling at your coworker.
“Of course,” He rocks back and forth on his heels the two of you standing at the edge of the park, ready to part ways. “I can never have a pretty girl like you be deprived of such Autumn goodness,” Jaemin teems at you as he says this, ready to receive some sort of backlash for his behaviour.
Imagine his surprise when you slightly guffaw, before stopping yourself with a hand to your mouth and a straight face. “If you think I’m so pretty,” You start as you turn around, slowly beginning the walk back to your house. “You would do more than just buy me a 3,000 won snack; I think pretty girls like me deserve more. No?” And with a wave, you continue your walk, leaving Jaemin with wide eyes and a slightly concerning grip on his cup.
It’s been eight weeks since Jaemin started working at Tao Village as a waiter, and he hasn’t known peace throughout.
It’s not that the pay is bad, or that the people around him treat him terribly. The pay is generous enough and as rarely as he sees Kun and Jaehyun on his shift, even if they’re a curtain width away from him, they’re nice and give him a container of food after every shift. And you’re an angel on earth, helping him whenever he fucks something up, and saving his ass nearly six times since he’s started working here.
The problem is that he makes those mistakes. And he has to go out of his way to not make these mistakes, and after every shift he feels like he’s worked five days with no break when in reality he just had a five-hour shift and a very generous thirty-minute break, eating hot and sour soup while you tell him about the weird customers you’ve encountered, asking him to rank them from most to least smashable with the details given from your anecdote.
Speaking of you, he thinks you're the epitome of his worries. Ever since he slipped up and basically confessed to thinking you’re attractive, you’ve been tormenting him, torturing even. If he were to tell you this, you would deny it all. And of course you would, because—
“I’m not doing anything,” You reply when Jaemin asks what you’re doing with the order slip that he’s just written down on. With a pen in your hand and a separate order slip, you’re copying down everything word for word instead of just taking Jaemin’s one to the back like normal.
“Yes, you are. Why are you making a copy of my slip— Are you ripping it to pieces?!” Jaemin shrieks, which catches the attention of the patrons in the restaurant, earning him a light smack against his arm.
You sigh, “Look, Jaehyun doesn’t like it sometimes when the slip looks too messy. There’s already a lot of oil and water being splattered on these poor things the minute they go past the curtain.” You shake the paper in your hand. Not wanting to hurt his feelings, you grab Jaemin’s hand, not looking at his face in case he’s flashing those eyes again. Jokes on you, because he’s also blushing, so you’re doing him a favour.
“Your handwriting isn’t messy, they’re just used to mine. I don’t want them to make a fuss over nothing,” You pat his hand and head to the back, not before reminding him to check on table number seven.
Looking at his left hand, the hand which you grasped hours ago, he holds it to his chest and prays to whatever holds power to keep him strong. He doesn’t know if you’re doing these things on purpose, or if he just has a weak heart.
“You barely go out of your room, so I’d say the second option is more likely.” Mark quips, tilting his body to the same side that his kart skids in the game. Jaemin lies down on his bed arm slung over his eyes as Mark plays on his console.
“Am I just due for a good fuck? Is that why I’m basically busting whenever she brushes past me?”
“Yo,” Mark sounds concerned now. “Brushes past you? Like, it’s just the accidental skinship that makes you horny?”
Jaemin sits up now, wanting to prove himself innocent despite the words he uttered just seconds ago. “You have to understand, I think she’s doing it on purpose.”
“I’ve seen your place Jaemin. The staff counter seems like a tight fit, I don’t know how she can be doing these things on purpose.” Jaemin huffs at that, falling back onto his bed again. He doesn’t know how to explain to his best friend that he isn’t delusional, so he just mutters a ‘whatever’ and tries tickling him, wanting him to lose the game and get last place.
“Yup, your order is just right here. So it’s just the large special frie—” His voice gets stuck in his throat repeating back the order to the customer when he feels a figure pressed up against his back, and with a glance to the side he sees you leering over, looking at the slip he holds in his hand. When he makes eye contact with you, you barely give back a nod of your head, encouraging him to continue reading.
“Sorry. Uhm, just the large special fried rice, and two servings of the spring rolls,” You lean in even more, and Jaemin can only thank the great heavens above for the bit of privacy that the takeaway counter provides. He feels the plush of your breasts pressing against him, leaning against him while you reach over below the counter to some pens, opening the notebook of table reservations and writing in a new booking.
He only messes up putting in the total price of the order twice on the machine, before the customer picks up his food, leaving you two behind the counter. Just as he’s about to turn around and say something, you separate yourself from him, patting him on his shoulder and closing the notebook shut.
The first thing he does is find his bearings, as he clutches a hand at his chest, then his neck, and lastly his ears, feeling how hot they were. Next, he has to somehow find a way to see if he just made that whole scenario up. Looking at where you now were, which was at a table, conversing with a customer, he was a few seconds away from losing his mind. But his thoughts were confirmed when you glanced a look at him, the corner of your lips lifting ever so slightly before you continue speaking to the table.
Jaemin doesn’t know how long he can last.
He now knows how long he can last.
Unsurprisingly, it’s not long at all.
He doesn’t know if what you’re doing is on purpose, or he’s just infatuated with you enough to now notice these things, but all he can blame it on is the fact that it’s been some time since he last got laid, and so that’s why he’s getting flustered by your proximity these days.
But he also thinks that you might be doing some things on purpose; like squeezing past him in the tight margin of the staff counter to wipe some inconspicuous water stain, bodies brushing against each other in a tight squeeze, or inspecting his hand for too long after he’s delivered a sizzling plate of Mongolian lamb to the table, in search for an injury you both know is not there if he hasn’t already blatantly dropped the whole dish onto the table. Or that one time when you both went to the cold room, with him reaching up for the carton of beers while you kneel to get the soft drinks, side to side. You had momentarily lost your balance while pulling out the boxes from the back, resulting in your hand clutching at his pants, wanting to regain your balance.
“Oh, sorry,” Your words are a clear contrast between your actions, as your hands linger on for longer, lashes fluttering when you look up at him, the light of the cold room twinkling in your eyes. Jaemin swears he feels your hands squeeze ever so slightly before you let go, shuffling out of the room with a carton tucked by your side.
He doesn’t know how to confront you about it; it’s not that he doesn’t enjoy the sudden burst of attention he’s receiving from you, it’s just that it’s both not enough and too much. He wants more but he doesn’t want to risk popping a boner while taking a sixty-year-old woman’s order.
Every time he thinks he’s got you cornered, something always comes along to save you, like the call of a customer, or Kun coming through the curtains to get some hot water, even though his sightings are as common as blue moons.
So when Jaehyun asks you two to restock some of the items into the storage room as a part of your closing shift, Jaemin thinks the opportunity is basically being graced into the palm of his hands.
“The stuff might be a bit heavy, so be careful with your posture when picking up the boxes,” Jaehyun tuts, scrubbing his wok clean. “And remember to lodge something between the door, it still gets stuck from the inside. Don’t go home too late, but also don’t half-ass things as well.” Jaemin almost shivers when he hears her mom echoing back the same things to him in his head.
“Jaemin, do you know that door wedge we have at the back? You can use that, sometimes even I forget. Kun’s trying his best with the handle.” He steps over the freshly mopped places, going past and at the cashier, placing your tips in your dedicated storage boxes.
“Okay we get it Jaehyun, but if you keep speaking we won’t be done unti—” The front door shuts before you can finish what you were saying, but you only let out a light sigh before finishing up with the mopping, with Jaemin drying the cutlery with a towel.
“I’m gonna start with the boxes first,” Jaemin nods his head at you, seeing you go through the back door and towards the storage room. Jaehyun and Kun were kind enough to place a few boxes inside, but there were some still littered outside.
When a few minutes pass and Jaemin is all done, he still sees the extra boxes outside, not having moved a bit. He calls for your name, just to see if you’re back there.
“Yeah, I’m here, just—” You grunt, balancing the box on your knee as you take its contents out, placing them on the shelf. “Trying to sort this. Can you help me with the boxes outside? Be careful with the door, I have my shoe lodged there.” Jaemin rolls his eyes at the third reminder of the day, before shutting the lights off from inside the restaurant and picking up the boxes near the door, stacking them on top to only use one trip to the storage room. The light from within shines a silver lining across the now dimmed restaurant, as Jaemin nudges the door open with his leg, careful to avoid your shoe as you had advised.
He places the boxes down with a groan, straightening up and stretching his back. “That was a piece of cake,” He smiles cheekily at you, to which you barely react, handing him the box you were balancing, opting to take the items out from his hands, making the process more efficient.
“Are you having fun?” Jaemin speaks again, not letting the silence between you two stretch out for too long.
“With putting these things away? Not exactly my definition of fun,” You look at him questioningly, picking up another item while glancing at him.
“Not with the packages,” He shakes the one in his hand for emphasis. “I meant ever since that night at the park, where I called you cute—”
“Pretty,” You mutter, and the word slightly shocks you both, as Jaemin sees your shoulders stiffen. You have been doing everything on purpose, because you, too, put some meaning into his attempts.
“You keeping tally on how I compliment you?” putting the box down, he opts to look at your face as he says this. It’s not every day that he gets to tease you like this, so he uses this opportunity to rile you up a bit as you do to him, body inching closer to yours.
You feel the heat radiating off of him and onto your back, as you place down the last item in your hand on the shelf and turn around, only to be startled at the proximity of you two, Jaemin inching closer with the box discarded at the side. This close to him, your eyes tilt up to look at his, mischievous iris’ grinning back at you.
“I don’t…” Jaemin’s eyes glance at your lips as you start, parted open now as your mind blanks on what to say next. The distance between your bodies shortens, and you feel yourself craving for something. A simple touch of his hand at your sides, the heat of his breath at your cheek, the soft push of his lips against yours.
Your tongue brushes the corner of your lip at that thought, an action Jaemin can’t miss with how close you two are.
“You don’t? Don’t what, don’t know what I’m talking about? Finish your sentence pretty,” Jaemin’s hand raises, and your chest flutters at the anticipation of his touch, only for it to deplete when he places it on the wall beside your shoulder, getting closer and closer.
You want to scream, needing him to just do something, anything, but your body still inches back, wanting to see how far either of you can prolong this. Jaemin notices your game, leaning his head in and bringing his lips to your ear.
“Tell me what you want. I’ll do anything for you, just gotta have you use your words, baby.” At this your eyes flutter, fists clenching at your sides to gather up the courage as his warm breath fans against your neck.
“Can you kiss me?” Your eyes look at his as you push his body back by his shoulders, wanting to look at him as you ask for him, for more. Smile slowly softening, he leans in and places a peck onto your lips, plush skin pressed against you, both of your eyes closing shut. Before you get to do anything else, he parts back slowly, seemingly done. But you’ve barely even started.
“More,” You mutter before placing your arms around his shoulders, pushing both of you closer to one another as you lean in, kissing his lips once again, catching him by surprise. His lips are only still for a split second, before he reciprocates, pushing against you, giving you exactly what you asked for.
“Your hands, please,” You mutter in between as they slowly turn from innocent pecks to open-mouthed kisses, your own hands coming to his biceps, wanting him to touch you.
“Where, baby?” He sighs against you, hands grasping yours, ready to be guided.
“Everywhere,” You clasp your hands together, before grabbing his wrists, placing one at your waist and the other underneath your boob, arching your back in encouragement and contempt of finally having him closer. And Jaemin listens well, hands squeezing and thumbing at your body over your clothes skin, before roaming them around. Slithering one behind your back, pushing your body flush against his, chests brushing as he rushes to kiss you more, lips pressing against you feverishly. Your arms wrap around his neck and shoulders, wanting your boobs to be pressed against him fully, nipples perked with arousal from him, having the both of you pushed back and against the wall as he follows your lead of wanting to be all over each other.
Except walls don’t click shut.
But Jaemin either doesn’t notice or pays it no mind, continuing his quest of ravaging your lips, not that you mind, as he squeezes the flesh of your boob and brushes a finger over your clothed nipples, biting lightly onto your bottom lip as your mouth parts slightly from the pleasure, soothing it with a swipe of his tongue.
“Jaemin,” You try calling for him, voice coming out a bit hoarse as you pull back slightly. He takes that as a sign to venture more.
“What is it, hmm? Want me to go lower?” He doesn’t wait for your reply as he angles his head down towards your neck, breath tickling against your skin as he nips at it lightly.
“No, Jaemin. There’s—” He chuckles at you, looking into your eyes with a smirk now adorning his face. He raises his eyebrows at you while he scans your body pressed against his, and that shouldn’t affect you as much as it did.
“What, does my pretty baby want more?” his smile now turns slightly giddy, placing a sweet kiss on your lips before bringing both hands to your sides, squeezing slightly making you react to the sensitive spot being handled. “I can’t fuck you here, as much as I’d love to. But I don’t wanna be looking at a box of fortune cookies—”
“Jaemin, we just closed the door.” And you physically see Jaemin react to this, as he processes your words with a confused look, before the light in his eyes dims and his face falls, looking frantically between you and the door behind you. He searches at the bottom of the door where you had lodged your shoe, only to see it past the frame, squeezed from the pressure of your bodies against the door.
He’s about to apologise profusely, mind scrambling to think of a way he can get you two out. But before he can get too far, you plant a kiss on his cheek, and another one on his lips when he turns his head to look at you. You let out a light sigh as his hands find themselves back onto your body, pushing your hands towards his jacket, wanting it off. He shucks it off and throws it behind, hands grabbing at you again as you bring your fingers to rake at the hair at his neck.
“But—” Jaemin cuts himself off with a whimper when your hand grazes under his shirt, the cold press of your fingers against his warm stomach, fingers splaying themselves against his taut muscles, grazing your nails lightly making his body flush even further.
“Fuck, the door,” He tries again, but falls short as his head falls against your shoulder when your fingers linger past the seam of his pants.
“Later, I need to feel you,” You mutter. “Someone will come by tomorrow morning anyway,”
“Oh, fuck.” Jaemin curses as you palm his dick over his pants, his hips bucking up and into your touch, wanting more of you against him. His hand pushes your shirt up, tucking it before he slips his fingers behind your back, reaching for your bra and taking it off once the hooks are undone. His hands cup at your boobs, vision glazed over you as he squeezes them together. He leans in with his mouth parted, looking up at you and making eye contact, whining slightly in lieu of asking for your permission. It’s hard to wait for your word when he’s just as desperate, wanting your touch and scent all over him.
“Jaemin, please,” You pant, hand flying to his hair and gripping softly, scratching your fingers against his scalp as an initiative. “Make me feel good, I want your mouth on me,”
He swipes his tongue against your perked bud, before blowing lightly and saying “Anything for my doll,” mouthing at your breast, before closing his lips around your nipple, sucking in as his free hand occupies itself with your other boob, slightly scraping his nail against you before pinching your tit. The pain and pleasure shoots through your body, as you moan his name, nails scratching his head.
Your whimpers and whines turn Jaemin on even more, as he swipes at your bud one last time before pulling back, tipping your face back towards him and kissing you again.
“Want your fingers…been thinking about this so much,” You reach for one of his hands, guiding him to the apex of your thighs, looking at him as you press his fingers against where you want him the most. Even through the thick fabric of your pants, the push of his fingers against your core has you whining, happy for some friction but wanting, needing more.
As his hand goes to unzip your pants, he replaces them deftly with his leg instead, pressing his knee against you.
“Fuck,” You sigh, as he presses himself closer to you, body now flushed against yours, thigh stimulating your pussy through your pants, mouth at your cheek, jaw, neck. Jaemin is completely overpowering your senses, yet you want more.
“Pretty doll, letting me do all of this to you.” he pushes your pants down, leaving you in your underwear and your shirt tucked up, fixing it every now and then to pinch at your tits, loving when you keen against him. “Wanting me to do all of this to you. Have you thought about me a lot? Bet you thought about us sneaking off right here so you could suck me off, or maybe thinking about me taking you right behind the counter, forcing yourself to act normal with my cock in you,” He hums against your ear, swiping his tongue against the shell before biting lightly on your lobe, wanting you to remember his touch all over you.
You’re not entirely sure what he's saying, yet you nod your head up and down, moan slipping past your lips at the light swipe of his fingers against your clothed core, doing anything to get him to give you more.
Jaemin chuckles, “Is your mind going blank already? I barely did anything to you baby, do I have to dumb it down for you and remind you?” His condescending tone is the only thing that registers in your head; that and the fact that he’s not doing anything, hands splayed still at your sides, his knee not pressing hard enough against you, with no signs of more.
He leans in and presses a sweet peck against you, before his hand squeezes your cheeks together, an attempt of garnering your attention back.
“If you want something,” He leans in, just a breath away, but moves back when your eyes lock on his lips and lean in. “You gotta tell me. I’ll only do what you want me to, got it?”
Nodding your head, you add a breathy ‘yes’ when Jaemin raises his eyebrows at you.
“Good girl,” He smiles, and it only makes your head just the slightest bit dizzy. But you’re brought back when you feel the press of his thigh against you once more, a friendly reminder of what you’re missing out on.
“I want your fingers,” You start, voice wavering a bit, getting shy from having to voice your dirty thoughts. But the press of his finger pads against you edges you on even more, encouraging you to continue. “Always look so good doing the most mundane things. Want you to fuck me with your fingers, fuck,” Jaemin proves to be a great listener, as he quickly makes work of shoving your underwear aside, commenting how you’ve ‘soaked through your panties and my pants, messy girl’. He rubs against your clit, building up a rhythm, before rubbing his fingers against your folds, soaking them in your juices thoroughly before the pad of his fingers press against your hole, making quick work.
“Fuck, you’re so tight,” Jaemin grunts at the squeeze of your walls against his two fingers, filling you to the hilt and shallowly pushing. “Bet you would feel so good around my cock,” You moan at his words, eyes falling shut as you rest your forehead against his shoulder, giving him better access to whisper such filthy words to you.
“So fucking dirty, getting off of my fingers in public like this. You’re lucky it’s late, no one gets to see you like this,” His fingers quicken their pace, the hot feeling in your stomach tightening as the palm of his hand smacks against your clit, other hand occupying itself with gripping your ass or tweaking your nipples. “Only I get to see you like this, messy and undone. All mine for the taking.”
“All yours,” You echo back, head burrowing further into his neck. As you feel another finger push into you, his pace making you clench tighter and tighter, you let out a high-pitched whine when his other hand comes down to stimulate your clit. Mockingly, Jaemin repeats back your moan in the same high-pitched voice, twisting the end of it to sound like a question.
“Is my baby close?” He pecks at the side of your forehead, a sweet gesture contrasting the pressure of his fingers against you.
“Please, Jaemin. Don’t stop,” You feel yourself grow hot, storage room now feeling stuffy as you separate from his shoulder, head tilted back against the door as your senses are overwhelmed.
“You’re so hot, fuck.” He smothers the pool of drool gathering at the corner of your lips, spreading it onto your cheek before leaning in for a kiss. It’s all tongue and teeth, too close and fucked out to makeout steadily, just wanting to feel him against you. Curling his fingers against you, you feel yourself ripping over the edge as he presses his other hand against your stomach and swipes his tongue over yours, sucking at the tip of your muscle before finishing it off with a peck.
“Let go, pretty. Show me how messy your cunt can get,” Fingers fucking into you, with a final rub and pinch of your clit you break off into a silent moan, hands clutching at his shoulders as you tense up, finally reaching your high. Jaemin’s fingers keep a steady pace as he helps you ride off your high, now going slower than before. But his fingers don’t stop even when you calm down, seeing how far you can go as he overstimulates you.
“Hurts,” You cry, but don’t make a move to stop his ministrations, hips pushing up into his touch, panting against his mouth when he kisses you again, pushing his fingers in and out of you. After a few more seconds though, your whine lilts painfully and you weakly push at his hand, to which he relents as he slows down the pace, before pulling them out carefully.
“It’s gonna feel icky for a bit, so bear with me,” Jaemin softly murmurs, reaching above to a shelf that conveniently holds paper towel rolls. The emptiness that is left emphasises the tiredness you feel, as your shoulders slump and you lean back against the door for further support. Jaemin folds the towel and dabs at your core, cleaning you up to the best of his abilities before he wraps his clean hand around your waist, manoeuvring you to lean against the wall, carefully pulling your shirt down and underwear and slacks back up. He slides the two of you down slowly, and you open your eyes to look at him, tiredness slowly wearing away as your heart flutters at his gestures.
“You okay?” He hums, his back now pressed against the wall, shoulder to shoulder with you as he gently smoothens his hand down your scalp, before cupping your face gently. You nod your head, leaning in and pressing a kiss against him.
“More than okay, that was so hot.” He chuckles at your words, poorly concealing the smug look that overtakes his features.
“I’m glad at least one of us had fun,” He teases, which makes you feel shy, as you spare a glance down to see a chub at the zip of his pants. He waves you off, adjusting himself a bit before sliding his hand into yours, lacing your fingers together.
“With what we did just then? I’ll be able to come for days even just thinking about you,” He laughs softly as you squeeze his hand in warning, before resting your head against his shoulder, with Jaemin reaching over for his jacket discarded earlier on, tugging it over your legs to provide warmth.
“You haven’t made a mistake today,” You mutter, breaking the silence that had settled as you play with his fingers with both your hands. Jaemin can only look at the side of your face as you say this, before getting comfortable and pressing his cheek against your head. “How could I when you have such high standards to meet? I need to be on your good side,” Your scoff holds no mean intentions, glancing at him briefly over your shoulder.
“You’re already on my good side,” He faux gasps.
“You’re telling me you liked me this whole time? I didn’t have to prove myself to you?” Jaemin squeals as he sways side to side, before wrapping himself around you and swaying you along with him.
You’re shy when you speak up again, muttering “I’ve already told you how I thought.. about you,” He tsks as he meets your eyes again, eyes going down to look at your lips that you bite nervously.
“Don’t even think about talking about that, I don’t know how long I can stay working here and pining after you.”
“But… I like— wait. Do you not like working at the restaurant?” Feeling like a deer caught in headlights, Jaemin tenses a bit at the information he let slip. He doesn’t want you to think that he’s ungrateful for your efforts, but the soft gaze that you give to him only soothes him.
“Okay, I’ll be honest. I think you’ve noticed by now that I’m not the most, flawless, person ever.”
“You’re telling me that you’ve made a few mistakes? No way,” He whines at your tease, as you bite your lip to contain your laughter, nodding your head to get him to continue.
“I’m just not really good at keeping part-time jobs like this. Things that need me to physically and actively do things. I once got fired from a scouts guidance group because I would give badges to the kids when they asked.”
“…Aren’t scout leaders there by volunteer? How can they fire you?”
“That’s my point!” He grumbles against you, bringing your head back down to his shoulder when you lift yourself to look at him, not wanting to look at you directly in your eyes. “And working as a waiter is definitely not easy, because I have to guess when a customer wants to order before they actually call me, and help with food and dietary needs and advice, and be smiling and happy all the time even when the old ladies pinch at my cheek and call me handsome like I’m some three-year-old golden child.” You pat at his bicep soothingly, fingers squeezing as he rambles on, letting him pour it all out.
“Well,” You bring your hands up to your lips, pressing a light kiss at the back of his hand before settling it back against your legs. “If you hate the job so much, why not quit and find something better?”
He stills as you ask this, thinking about your question. He hasn’t ventured far from the initial annoyance of having the job, not thinking of the reasons why he’s staying in contrast with the million reasons why he doesn’t want to. But the tingling feeling left at the back of his hand seems to be enough of an answer.
“Because I get to spend my time with you,” You squeeze your lips together as he says this, not knowing if you should cringe or swell at his words. You giggle lightly when you see him fall shy, hiding his face into your shoulder.
“Okay, then don’t quit,” You quip when you realise he’s not going to come out of hiding anytime soon, opting to play with your laced fingers instead. “Stay with me. You can deal with customers who ask if we have duck on our menu even when we clearly don’t, and try your best to not burn your finger on the sizzling plates, or get locked in the storage room overnight.” Jaemin feels bittersweet at the scenarios you provide, torn between what he should do.
“Or you can ask me out and then quit,” You shrug, conveniently avoiding his sudden gaze on you as he sits up. “Up to you,”
“I can do that?” You glare at him.
“I’m gonna blow up, Jaemin. I can’t believe you haven’t—” He stops you with a peck to your lips, now grinning like a maniac. “Can I be your boyfriend?”
“What will I gain?”
“Uhm… unlimited head?” You clench your grip on his hand harder. “...And a very deep and meaningful emotional connection where we fill each other's gaps and lift our—”
“Unlimited? Can you promise?” He’s about to agree without a second thought, before he sees you raise a suspicious eyebrow at him.
“..Yes?”
“Then yes, you can be mine.” He sighs contentedly now, cuddling himself back into you.
“I can’t wait to quit.”
You’re not sure when you fell asleep, but you’re woken up by the sound of a door hinge and a sudden shine of light. You try to bring your hand up to shield the onslaught of the sunshine, but the weight on your hand reminds you of your position, with Jaemins head tucked on your shoulder and yours stacked on top, hands still laced and legs slightly tangled into each other. With a squint of your eyes, you look up at the figure standing at the door.
Jaehyun’s facial expression doesn’t change much, other than the slight parting of his mouth. To you, this means that not only is he shocked still, but also somehow angry and maybe … confused? If the left side of his lip is slightly tilted down; you’re still trying to learn.
“Jaemin,” Your hoarse voice calls, shaking the boy next to you lightly to wake him up. He whines, lips mumbling gibberish into your shoulder.
“The doors open, Jaem,” That wakes him up a bit more, as he squints towards the open door.
“Oh,” He says, and then Jaehyun clears his throat. “...Oh,” The two of you rise slowly, as Jaemin places his jacket over your shoulders.
“So,” Jaehyun starts when the three of you step out of the room, the two of you now standing like students being punished for their wrongdoings. It takes all his willpower for Jaemin to not raise his hands in fists over his head.
“Funny you ask, boss. Remember when you told me not to close the door?” Jaemin thought he started off strong before he saw you looking at him with wide eyes. Jaehyun’s lip tilts to the left.
“How could you ignore the only warning I gave you? Not only did you lock yourself in that room, but her too? You know how dangerous that is, what if we didn’t have a Sunday shift to open for? This liability costs you, Jaemin.” At that, the boy feels his posture straighten.
“Am I..?” Jaehyun's frown is the strongest expression Jaemin has ever seen. He feels like doing a backflip right now.
“Fired? Of course—” And it probably is rude for him to whoop as loud as he did, but Jaemin is on cloud nine, having bagged a person like you and being liberated from having to mop the floors like clockwork. He cups your cheeks and kisses you square on your lips, laughing at the surprised squeak you let out and the bliss he feels. Taking and shaking Jaehyun’s hand, he turns and walks out of the place.
Jaehyun sighs. “This is who you were rooting for?”
Your cheeks feel hot from the sudden public display of affection, before shrugging. “He’s cute. And he’s always trying his best.” You try as your hand clutches at the sleeve of the jacket he’s lent you.
Ever since being fired from the restaurant, Jaemin feels like he now has the best of both worlds, going to the restaurant after your shift to pick you up, or spending time with you as your boyfriend throughout the week, not feeling like he only has to look forward to a shift to see your face. You’re also happy with this shift in your relationship, spending your time with him freely.
But Mark isn’t.
“I don’t know why you couldn’t have asked her out and kept your job. You don’t even get to use your twenty percent employee discount.”
“I mean, if I’m an ex-employee then I can’t see why I couldn’t.” Mark grunts as he smacks at Jaemin, leaving the latter with a pout on his lip as he rubs at his shoulder.
“I miss the Mongolian lamb, man. Can we not go back at all?” Jaemin thinks about it briefly, his mind going back to the restaurant and how you’re probably working your Friday shift at the moment. “I don’t see why not,” he hums, thinking about planning a day when both he and Mark can drop by, but he is dragged to his feet and is being pushed to wear his shoes and shrug on a jacket, before he is out the door with Mark guiding him through it all.
“Welcome to Tao Village. Oh, hi,” You look up from the slip of the phone order you just took, seeing Jaemin and Mark standing at the door. Jaemin’s lips break into a smile as he sees you, already enamoured even when you’re in your work uniform. Mark merely smiles and nods his head as a greeting, before lifting up two fingers, gesturing for a table for them.
As the boys take their seats, you go up to them with a bottle of water and ask Mark if he wants his Mongolian lamb dish for today. He clasps a hand to his chest, touched. “I can’t believe you remembered.”
“It’s all you order, really.” You write down his order into the slip in your hand, before looking at your boyfriend, who’s been gazing at you fondly, barely concealing adoration. You tap at the menu in front of him, encouraging him to voice his order.
“I want you,” Jaemin’s smile is menacing as he says this. Mark visibly shrinks in his seat, but you barely blink. “Gross, dude,”
“A dish's name, Jaem. Or I’ll tell Jaehyun that you’re here.” At that he pouts, leaning back before asking for fried rice, and a glass of red wine.
Mark gets his dish on the sizzling plate, and Jaemin spends two whole minutes trying to make sure that your fingers didn’t get caught on to the hot pan. You smack at his hand to get him back to his food, to which he flings his hand back, making impact with his glass and conveniently spilling the red drink all over. Mark blinks twice at the scene unfolding, pausing when he almost shoved a piece of lamb into his mouth, before continuing when he sees the wine only seep into the tablecloth and not anywhere near him.
Jaemin looks between the cloth and your expression. “Look at what you did,”
“What I did? Your hand was the one that smacked into the glass. You didn’t even try to catch it?” Jaemin ignores your words, waving at your words as if they’re merely pesky flies.
“It’s okay, I can forgive you but you have to compensate in another way,” He smirks at you, before his fingers slowly inch towards your waitress' apron wrapped around your waist, thumbing at the fabric tied around you. “Maybe a pretty girl like you can go out with me?”
You smile sweetly, clasping his hands into yours and rubbing your thumb into the back of his hand. You place it down on the table, your smile not dimming as you shake your head. “You have to pay for that, kind sir,” You nod your head in mock shame and guilt. Jaemin’s smile dims as he looks at the red-stained tablecloth.
“It’s part of the Tao Village policy.”
OKAY the part where jaemin *mocks.. u hehe was completely inspired by @/sunpopz haechan fic called ‘free falling’ !! give that a read bc its soso good
thank you for reading! let me know if you enjoyed it <3
#jaemin x reader#nct jaemin smut#jaemin smut#jaemin fluff#nct jaemin x reader#nct scenarios#nct dream smut#nct dream fluff#nct dream scenarios#jaemin scenarios#jaemin hard hours#jaemin oneshot#nct dream oneshots#na jaemin smut
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please can i get headcanons for gojo,geto and nanamis love languages please! thank youuuu
But of course you can Anon!! I read this request and instantly got ideas, so thank you for the ask <3 without further ado,
Now Presenting...
Starring: Satoru Gojo, Suguru Geto, Kento Nanami, and a bonus Ryomen Sukuna ;)
The Touch Starved,
Satoru Gojo
PHYSICAL. TOUCH. Gojos love language is physical touch, no I’m actually not taking criticism at this time <3
“But Narrator! He always has his full body condom (infinity) on!” I hear you yell. And Yes, dear reader, that’s the point.
He’s spent so much of his life unable to let anyone get close. Touch is inherently an act of trust, and he doesn’t touch anyone.
So the first time you hug him, and he actually lets himself experience intimacy, he actually turns into a puddle and melts in your arms.
And that shit is basically coke, he’s had a taste and he can not get enough.
When you’re driving he’s touching your thigh, you’re going to sleep he’s cuddling you close, you’re taking a walk he’s holding your hand, watching a movie on the couch and his head is in your lap. You get the idea, if you’re around he’s touching you
If you really want to make his day, offer to play with his hair. There is a 40% chance he’ll tear up about it.
Honestly, I genuinely feel like he’d be a little bit annoying about it. Random hugs and kisses constantly happening, it would be hard to get anything done, I’m not gonna lie
He’s kinda like a cat! The moment you try to get any work done, he’s crawling into your lap and you gotta work around him.
Hold on, wait, where's my cat meme-
It’s Him.
I’m being serious, cup his face like that and watch him turn to putty.
Moral of the story: Gojo just wants to be held
Man is never defeating the Baby Girl allegations
The Sickeningly Sweet,
Suguru Geto
WORDS OF AFFIRMATION, BABYEEEE
Suguru was born with a silver tongue in more ways than one and he knows how to use it.
“You’re breathtaking, you know that?” “How did I get so lucky to have someone as magnificent as you?” “My darling is so talented, what ever will I do when the world learns to appreciate you as much as I do?”
He’s going to single handedly raise your self esteem, watch him. He is going to pour honeyed words over you like a warm, safe shower
….Look, I’m not good with words, BUT HE IS! You get what I’m trying to say!
He would leave little notes for you to find around the house with sweet little messages. Just to give you a little dopamine rush, ya know?
He definitely sends you random texts throughout the day letting you know that he’s thinking about you and missing you.
God help you on any holiday that could possibly call for card giving. Valentine's Day, Christmas, your birthday, your anniversary, He’s going to write you a card, and it’s going to make you cry. It’s a personal goal of his.
Doing simple household chores has never felt more rewarding tbh.
Like, yea, you’re going to do the laundry anyway. But having him tell you how thankful he is for you and how much he appreciates it really makes getting through the task easier.
Would writing a song for someone count as acts of service or gift giving?...
Doesn’t matter, he writes songs for you, there I said it.
He’s 100000% The type of boyfriend that points out how attractive you are Every. Single. Time. He sees you in any state of undress. Prove me wrong, you can’t. Doesn’t matter if he’s seen it 101 times before, He’s going to call you hot.
Honestly he’s a major confidence booster.
Ngl, part of me thinks I’m giving him too much credit but oh well LMAO.
The Always Helpful,
Kento Nanami
Nanami is giving me Acts of Service tbh.
Like, he’s 1000% the “I will make you breakfast in bed” kind of husband material, and that is an act of service if I’ve ever heard it.
Honestly, He just wants to do anything he can to try and make your day a little bit easier.
If that means doing the dishes even if it’s technically your turn, then so be it!
Doors might as well not exist to you when you’re with him, he will open them all
“I noticed your water bottle was empty. I got you another one.” “I know you’ve been stressed lately, I made your favorite for dinner tonight.” “Here, let me get that for you.”
He was made to be a caretaker tbh.
You can read between the lines there as little or as much as you’d like
If he catches you doing a chore, he’s going to find a way to help, sorry I don’t make the rules.
You’re washing the dishes? He’s drying and putting them away. You started cleaning the living room? Perfect, he’ll clean the kitchen. Oh, you washed the laundry? Looks like he’s gonna fold it and put it away.
He wants you to feel like you’re in a partnership. I genuinely don’t think he buys into this traditional idea that one partner makes money and the other takes care of the home front. Homemaking is a team effort god damn it!
It goes both ways though. If you really want to make him feel loved, a warm home cooked meal is the way to this man's heart.
He’s going to make the next meal to show his appreciation though.
Someone put this man in a maid dress tbh.
I need me a Nanami tbh lol
The Ever-Present,
Ryomen Sukuna
OKAY sooo here’s the thing. It’s fuckin Ryomen my guy. Love languages almost require conscious acts of love, or to at least ya know admit you’re in love. In that sense, Ryomen doesn’t have a love language; he actively mocks the concept of “love languages” as humans refusing to accept the fact that their emotions are all just chemical reactions in their brain designed to make them want to fuck.
That being said, it's Quality Time.
Ryomen’s love is always quiet. It’s him sitting in the same room as you while you read, casually talking with you while you do chores, or insisting on being in the garden while you tend to it because “It’s my (his) garden, I’ll be here if I want! Don’t think I’m here for you.” He absolutely is there for you.
His biggest act of love is letting you sleep in his room with him. That's quality time by definition my guy.
He genuinely gets so jealous when you spend time with other people because that's how he defines love. It's the person you want to spend time with (Don’t ask him about it, he won’t admit it) so you spending time with other people means you love them. And he can not handle the idea of you loving anyone that’s not him.
Remember when I said Satoru was like a cat? I take it back, Sukuna is like a cat. He wants to be in the same room as you but the last thing he wants is to be perceived by you.
He just wants to watch you read your book and not be grilled as to why he insists on being with you all the time. He’s clearly just, uh…enjoying the fireplace! Duh! Foolish mortal, why would he vie for your affections?...so, uh..whatcha reading?
He will never admit it, but his favorite thing in the world is to sit in the garden with you, listening to you talk about flowers while he pretends not to care.
This is followed closely by holding your close to him at night, whispering words of affirmation to you you will never hear when awake.
I think that spending quality time with you is the only way Sukuna knows how to show love. I think he often gets overwhelmed by physical affection. He’s not used to it, and he didn’t immediately take to it the way Gojo did. Words of affirmation are out because he’s not a wordsmith unless he’s making threats. Can’t do acts of service because his ego would never let him do a favor for anyone else, and he can’t find any gifts that feel worthy of you- none of them feel right. So, Quality time it is.
Words may fail him, but he’s aware of how he feels. And the soft intimacy of listening to your favorite music with you, watching you hum along and dance makes him feel so viscerally raw, that it’s almost enough to make him admit there maybe more to love than just chemicals making you want to fuck.
Should I just write a fic at this point? Maybe because GOD I am a fucking sucker for soft Sukuna. Yes I am aware I am part of the problem, I do not care, give me 2 weeks. I can fix him!
Just imagine stargazing with Sukuna for a second. Imagine listening to the crickets chirp off in the distance, both of you are aware that it goes against everything he’s ever said for him to be out here with you, and both of you know better than to acknowledge that fact. You know you’re not supposed to love him because he claims he will never love you, but as your hand meets his, and you watch him tense for just a second before relaxing under your touch again, you both know it’s only a matter of time now.
I always get carried away on Ryomens section in these.
I just really love my weird little demon dude lmao.
#jjk#jujutsu kaisen#ryomen sukuna#satoru gojo#nanami kento#sukuna x reader#gojo x reader#nanami x reader#suguru geto#geto x reader#suguru x reader#jjk headcannons#gojo headcannons#nanami headcanons#geto headcanons#sukuna headcanons#Anon asks
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1000??? yaaaaa bestie!! 🤩😍♥️ omg congrats! this is huge and so deserved, so excited for and prouda youuuuu 😙 was thinking about what to send in and woooo nelly i just know you’re gonna make this so damn good.
🌙 fluffy angst 🌙 friends -> lovers 🌙 “i broke my rules for you” & “i want more than this” 🌙 honestly stevie or eddie! which one speaks to you??
thinking these two are BFFs and it’s like raining out and maybe it’s the reader who’s being hesitant cos she’s afraid to ruin their friendship? or is a commitaphobe?? or somethinggg and one of the boys just can’t take it anymore and shows up all soaked and shit and 🥹🫶🏼
OKAY BABE YOU’RE AMAZING ILY! ♥️♥️♥️ CONGRATS ON 1K!
better late than never. here's 1K words of steve being a dingus. warnings/tags: steve harrington x f!reader; mild smut so 18+; some fluff, angst and steve making poor choices.
Maybe it’s because he’s faced death too many times. Stared it down in the eye and lived to tell the tale. Maybe it’s because it’s easier to pretend the feelings he holds for you aren’t deeper than what they presently are. Maybe it’s because the fear of losing you is greater than the desire he has to be with you. But he knows that’s not true. And it feels wrong to even think that; you’re his best friend, he loves you, he might be in love with you.
He’ll never tell you, though. Love scares him. The last time he loved it swallowed him up and spat him back out. Last time he loved, he watched the person he thought he could see a future with run back into the arms of someone who loved her better than he ever could.
Such is life, isn’t it?
It’s been two years since then and you’re a bright spot in his life. Someone he runs to on his worst days, fills it with laughter, fills it with your easy smiles and candor. You’re comfort to a weary soul, a tether when his mind slips away into the past—into visions of swirling red skies and fluttering wings, of monsters that crawl in a world that no longer is.
It starts the way most of these things do: one night you get a little too cozy, hands start to wander, sticky kisses press to exposed skin. He gasps as your mouth slides along sensitive flesh, watches as your eyes roll into the back of your skull as he sinks in minutes after he watches you fall apart on his tongue, writhing with your thighs splayed around his shoulders. It’s meant to be a one time thing, but these things never are.
One time turns to two, and soon it’s every weekend, and before long it’s months of roaming hands in dark alleyways after having a drink at a bar, it’s him pinning you against the door to his bedroom and watching you fall apart around his fingers, and right now it’s your gasps filling the cabin of his car as you fold against his chest, skirt high up on your thighs, his softening cock still inside of you, heartbeats slowing down into a normal rhythm, melting into the steady drum of rain splashing against the windows.
There’s nothing normal about this time, though. It’s different. You lean back in his lap, eyes hazy with your release, lazy lips sliding languidly over his. He sighs against your mouth, tongue licking into you, drawing out the last remnants of your pleasure, before your hands come to rest on his shoulders and you whisper, “I want more than this.”
“You want more than this…” He’s not understanding. And then again, he’s never asked. You’ve never talked about it. These trysts, these moments between you, they’ve never disrupted your friendship. They may have blurred it, blurred the lines of it, but you’d never talked about more. Always some unspoken agreement between the two of you; at least until now.
“I want to be with you, Stevie. I don’t want to hide behind our friends' backs. I…I want this. Us.” Your voice breaks off at the end, and in that he knows he’s already made a mistake. Because his mouth drops open at your words and he can’t find it in himself to speak.
He doesn’t speak for some time. Therein lies the problem. He realizes too late as your bottom lip trembles and you nod stiffly. As you slide your skirt back down over your thighs and climb off of him. As you open the backseat door and slip out of his car and into the pouring rain.
“Where are you going?!” He’s stumbling out of the car, buckling his pants as he races through the darkened streets behind your trembling form.
You whirl around to face him and the hurt on your features is a lightning bolt to his chest. A knife to the gut he’s not prepared for. “Home!”
“Let me drive you!” His voice is drowned out by the thunderous drops lashing against the ground. Drowned out by the own frantic throb of his heart. “Baby, slow down!”
You do better than that. You stop, and it’s only because your face crumples and you start to cry. The sight alone nearly kills him. Crushes the wind clear from his lungs. His arms curl around your shoulders and drag you close, and he wonders if you can feel him shaking, because he’s terrified when he speaks. When he whispers, “I broke my rules for you.”
“W-what do you—”
“I love you.”
Three words. Three words he’s not said in years. Three words that someone had made him believe he’d never hear. Never earn. Three words with the weight to crush him—to send him crashing like he had so long ago. Three words that have you clutching at the front of his shirt, teary eyes meeting his face. You’re both shivering, both drenched to the bone, but it doesn’t matter now.
None of it matters except for you.
Maybe it’s been that way all along.
“I don’t know what I’m doing. I haven’t done this in so long and I’m probably shit at it, you’ll have to be patient, but I love you and I’m…I want this. I want us, too. I’m just—I’m scared and I—”
“I love you, too.” Your lips brush his, soft and delicate, arms curling around his waist to drag him close. “We’ll figure it out together, okay? I just want you.”
And so you kiss under a streetlight, clothes sticky and plastered to your bodies, hair stuck to skin, but neither of you cares.
Nothing else matters.
Only this. Only now.
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#lunas1kfollowercelebration🌙#steve harrington x reader#steve harrington x you#steve harrington blurbs#steve harrington fluff#steve harrington smut#steve harrington angst#steve harrington x f!reader#steve harrington x fem!reader
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How does our rockstar!sevika feel about having a plus size wife? <3 Any thoughts?
I have so many thoughts actually thank you baby im gonna kiss you. also my wife @pinknightsinmymind gave me the go ahead to go crazy so if yall get more rockstar sevika and her plus size wife, do not be surprised.
Sevika, in any universe, loves fat women. I've said this before and I'll say it again and again and again.
Rockstar Sevika? Even more ferocious. As a fat woman who loves loves loves rock, the whole culture around it can be pretty bad when it comes to body image. The glorification of drugs and alcohol, the image of the hyper skinny rockstar gf, it's all pretty fucking scary to enter as a fat woman. Sevika would defend her wife from anyone who tries to make her feel bad or unworthy or anything even remotely negative. She always lets you know how beautiful, how worthy, how fucking metal you are. Always lets you know you have a space in this scene, right next to her.
Ya know how JJ and I said she'd bring you out on stage to show you off? 1000% worse if her gf is plus size because she's fucking chomping at the bit, ready to defend her girl because she knows people are assholes! Drags you out in your pretty lil rockstars wife outfits, showing off all those marks she left on you, takes a lil walk with you around the stage to let everyone know you are hers. Keeps one hand gripping your hip, soft fat spilling through her fingers in a way that makes her drool.
Posts pictures of you always. Any shitty comments get immediately deleted by the manager who helps run her account, but she literally can't help but show you off.
On a similar note, literally wants to beat the shit out of anyone who makes weird sexually fetishitic comments towards you, especially ones pertaining to your weight. Both because she's possessive and because you deserve respect, you deserve to exist without being fetishized. Literally finds a way to get their accounts taken down. She knows people. It's totally, maybe, questionably, legal.
Also! This applies to any Sevika au and canon, but whenever you're feeling insecure she's there to remind you how beautiful you are and be there with you as the feeling wanes. She knows her words alone can't erase the hurt, but she can help.
just a lil thought, Sevika makes sure that any and all CoZ merch goes up to a 7x, and bigger if she can. puts the time and effort into finding manufactures and small business to make official merchandise in larger sizes. also tries to make sure that all her venues have accommodations ready for disabled and/or plus size fans. obviously she can't always swing it because unfortunately she doesn't have total control over their gigs, especially not when they're playing larger venues, but she does her best.
onto the sexy stuff because I have ,,, thoughts ,,,,
Rockstar Sevika is a big girl. Sevika is a big girl. She's fucking broad. And she loves getting her button up slutty silk shirts in larger sizes so they don't compress her muscles and are easier to drape. They make for a better look at all her hickies and lipstick marks on stage. They also look absolutely beautiful on you when she's got you writhing on the bed. Her favorite is to drape you in the shirt she wore during the concert, laying you down and sucking your soul out through your pussy.
Also. Sevika! Loves! Fat! Pussy! Loves the squish, loves fat pussy lips pressing against her face, loves seeing how they stretch around her strap. Loves feeling your pussy press against and spread open on her thigh. Uses the mound above your pussy as her personal forehead rest. Certified munch. She's fucking obsessed.
On a similar note, the way tribbing feels with your thick thighs, fat, messy pussy, hell even the press of your tummy against her? Nothing makes her cum faster. If there's a heaven, it feels like that. Truly, it's absolutely unmatched by anything she's ever experienced.
Also fucking obsessed with the way your tummy looks when she folds you in half. Especially after a show, when she's all pumped up and you're still covered in hickies. It makes her dizzy, the plush squish of your tummy.
Also absolutely in love with your thighs. There's nothing she loves more, except for your love and affection, than to feel your thick thighs trembling around her head while she's face first in your pussy, making you fall apart. Loves having you sit on her lap because your thighs? God she fucking loves them so so so so much. Anytime she has an interview where you get to be with her, you're on her lap. There are literal compilations of Sevika being touchy with you, most of the involving her groping your thighs, especially when you wear tiny shorts or skirts.
Less sexy but, there is nothing more soothing to Rockstar Sevika than cuddling with you after a show. When she's tired, sore, fucked out from y'all's after show ritual, she practically melts into your arms. The feel of your soft body pressed against her, clean and tired, makes her feel more alive than any show ever could. She feels safe, warm, loved in your arms, pressed against your body. Your love, your touch, is the only thing she'll ever need. She would never change that, or any part of you, for the world.
#anon#arcane sevika#arcane sevika x reader#sevika#sevika x reader#arcane smut#arcane sevika smut#arcane sevika x reader smut#sevika x reader smut
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ted doing a striptease to pony by ginuwine
AN: Finally getting around to my inbox (thank y’all so much for sending me ideas! I promise I really really appreciate it) and this made me chuckle so obviously I had to write just a little bit for it.
A little Valentine's Day-themed Sexy Ted! Sexual themes, but no explicit sex
Rating: Teen
Tags: striptease, romance, heavy flirting
Fic Masterlist
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There was more commotion coming from the locker room than you anticipated for a regular old training day. You and Ted had tickets to an early show in the West End so you’d told him you’d meet him at work to make it easier for him to shower and change.
You couldn’t distinguish who was yelling or what they were trying to say as you knocked on the door before pushing it open. You locked eyes with Beard and his own eyebrows rose comically high.
“HI, Y/N,” Beard yelled, and every head whipped around. There was a chair in the middle of the room, Roy seated in it, while Ted and the players were arranged facing him like he was on a throne.
“Well, hello there,” you laughed uncertainly and were surprised at the flurry of activity as the men rushed to get their gear together and leave. You were even more surprised by the flush on Ted’s face.
“Hey, there honeybunch! We were just… I’m gonna go grab my stuff and we can get out of there.”
You had 1000 questions but you let Ted dodge for now, temporarily distracted when he returned in a nice shirt and slacks looking deliciously date night worthy. He offered you his hand and the two of you walked out of the club.
“So are you going to tell me what that weirdness was about?”
“Ah, ya know,” Ted shrugged, reaching out to signal the approaching Uber driver, “boys will be boys.”
You eyed Ted playfully. “Except you don’t believe that.”
“You’re right I think that’s a poor excuse for masculine bad behavior,” Ted shook his head. “But what if I promise you’ll find out later?”
Ted opened the door for you and you slid into the backseat, leaning over to give him a chaste kiss when he joined you. “Fair enough.”
Dinner was terrific and the show was fantastic, but Ted seemed a little far away the whole time. He still cracked jokes and engaged in conversation, but you kept catching him with this look on his face like he was doing long-division in his head. You were suspicious, but not of any wrongdoing—whatever Ted was up to there was no chance he would hurt you, you didn’t consider it for a second.
In the car on the way back, you snaked your hand across his thigh and watched as his eyes shot up to the rearview mirror to make sure the driver couldn’t see before he smirked at you. “Can I help you ma’am?”
���Have I told you that you look very handsome tonight?”
Ted blushed slightly but he never looked away, instead leaning in to place a brief, gentle kiss on your lips. “You’re one to talk. Couldn’t hardly follow the show because I was too busy looking at you any time the stage lights came up.”
You bumped your shoulder against his playfully as the car pulled up outside of Ted’s apartment. He got out, opened the door for you, and then led the way into his home. You stopped short when you noticed there was a chair in the middle of his living room that wasn’t usually there. Ted stood off to the side fidgeting with his phone, his shoes toed off at the door.
“What’s this about?”
“Well, I thought it might be fun…actually, it might be better if I show instead of tell if that’s alright.”
Ted gestured for you to sit and you grinned, “that’s quite alright.”
As soon as your butt was in the seat, one leg crossed over the other, “Pony” by Ginuwine started playing from Ted’s soundbar and your eyebrows raised. Ted was walking to you, one hand beginning to unbutton his dress shirt as he mouthed along. You giggled, not at him but because of him, because he was so playful and funny and hot and for some reason, he decided tonight was the night to give you a striptease. Ted smiled along with you, his hips moving to the rhythm as he pulled his open shirt halfway down his shoulder, now standing directly in front of you. You leaned forward and ran a hand up his t-shirt-covered abdomen with a laugh and he let the shirt fall to the floor.
The song hit the chorus again and Ted walked around the back of your chair, both of his large, warm hands trailing down your body pushing your legs apart as he murmured song lyrics into your ear. Your cheeks were hot now, both from grinning and his touch, and when he walked back around in front of you his face was more serious than before. He kept direct eye contact as he undid his belt one-handed, pulling it free and snapping it between his hands. You couldn’t help the squeak that spilled from between your lips.
Ted smirked again as he stepped closer, one of his legs in between your own and you had to stop yourself from scooting even closer. He pulled his undershirt over his head so he was now bare-chested and you carded your nails through the trail of hair on his belly. Ted reached for you, placing one hand at the back of your neck and tilting your head so he could lean down and kiss you passionately, his tongue sliding easily into your mouth and taking control as you moaned against him.
Your hands were gripping his hips and when he broke the kiss he took one of them and placed it against his fly. It wasn't demanding; it was clear that he wasn't just trying to get your hands on his clearly growing arousal, but that he wanted you to unbutton and unzip his dress pants. You were taking on a more active role in this strip tease, though you certainly didn’t avoid caressing him as you assisted.
“Go on,” Ted whispered when you paused after unbuttoning him. You ran the zipper down slowly and he stepped back to let the pants fall away with his shirt. And that's when you realized he was wearing boxer briefs with your face on them.
You dissolved into giggles, the song fading out in the background. You stood and threw yourself in Ted’s arms so he’d know you weren’t laughing at him, you were just tickled. He hugged you back, pressing a loving kiss to your temple.
“So when I showed up at the locker room today, the boys were…helping you practice?”
“Uh huh,” Ted nodded, a little embarrassed.
“And all of this was to show me that you bought underwear with my face on them?”
“Yep,” Ted responded, prouder this time.
You cupped the man’s face in your hands, your cheeks already tired from smiling so much. “You wonderful, ridiculous man. I love you so much. This is the best Valentine’s Day I’ve ever had.”
“Oh just wait to see what I’ve got planned next year! This was just the trial run, ya see—”
You cut him off with a kiss, “Don’t ruin the surprise silly. Now come along and let me peel my face off of you and replace it with the real thing.”
“Yes ma’am,” Ted nodded enthusiastically, his ears pinking as he followed you into the bedroom.
#ted lasso#ted lasso fanfiction#ted lasso fanfic#ted lasso x yn#ted lasso fluff#fluff#ted lasso x reader#ted lasso x y/n#x reader#reader#reader insert
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Guys I think I’m gonna stop weighing myself for a bit.
I’m just gonna focus on my 1000 cal budget again for a while. It’s nice and simple.
I just can’t purge rn. It’s a waste of my medication. I can’t afford to waste it. Cals in cals out always works. So long as I’m diligent with my calorie counting, I’ll know if I’m doing well.
Plus this water weight is kicking my ass mentally. I know I’ve gained some real weight too, but I can see the puffiness in my face and hands and stuff.
Also I’m gonna incorporate more activity into my life again. Staying busy helps me mentally. It’s a lot easier to focus on hobbies when I’m as well fed as I am rn, so I’m really trying to branch out today and do things that are fun. Soon I’ll have school again and when I do I’m gonna reach that end of the day “I deserve some joy let me b/p or eat ‘normally’” but I hate the way I feel for the rest of the night.
Also l’m bringing back the cal bank. My limit is 1000 per day so really it’s 7000 per week. I can save up for the weekend or just try to enjoy each day at 1000. Either way, it’s a simple rule that helps me sometimes.
I might omad today, idk. I’m not hungry yet as I overate yesterday. I wanted to purge so bad because it hurt but I didn’t! I couldn’t waste my medication! Instead I took a nap to get through the worst of it, woke up and got some groceries while I was still too full to want to touch them, and took a nice shower. I just kept drinking water throughout all of this and come today I’m not hungry but I’m not stuffed! I’m more or less satiated. I did estimate cals because I ate some takeout. I knew exactly how much alcohol I drank, and I knew exactly the cals in some food I ate at home but the takeout makes it difficult to know.
Anyways I ate like 2700 ish cals. Let me remind you I do need more cals to heal rn, but since I’ve been overeating every day I’m switching back to restriction. If my body needs the cals it can snatch them from my fat fucking arms. I’m already being so good with not purging. I only failed once since getting these meds (literally on day 2 of the 10 day course lol). I haven’t allowed that to stop me from doing better.
So basically I don’t know my maintenance rn. It’s usually around 1600-1750 when I’m doing the bare minimum of walking to get from point a to point b. So my 1000 cal budget is safe.
Despite the fact that I’ve eaten a lot this week, I’m just gonna have today be a fresh start. Like I said, I do need extra cals rn. I’ve eaten them. I‘m set. So I have 3000 cals left for the week. I’m not at all hungry right now even though it’s almost 1:30 p.m. I have a package I ordered that’s supposed to come in tonight, so I’m excited about that (I like never treat myself to online shopping).
Here’s to my next honeymoon phase (I’ll actually drink to it later tonight before my omad if I even eat at all).
Also i know alcohol hinders healing, but I’m in a lot of pain rn and deserve a little fucking joy. Plus it helps me Slow down and really enjoy my food. Eating sober just isn’t that fun anymore.
#tw ana diary#ed not sherran#tw disordered eating#bul1m14#ana trigger#anorexcya#bulimima#anorexigenic#ed not ed sheeran#tw ed diet
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in honor of me not having the energy/mental capacity to tune into the riptide stream i have decided to compile all my favorite gillion quotes/moments from episode #90. obviously spoilers ahead. behold:
~ “Well that wasn’t your teeth so I’ll assume that was just a playful threat. The difference is: I’m going to actually eat you.”
~ Kuba: “I do wanna make sure I’m crushing you at your peak.”
Gillion: “You know actually, it’s funny you mention that because I was gonna get this new armor commission, so right now you’re fighting a very very weak, weak, unarmored version of me. So when you lose it’s gonna feel even worse.”
~ “You [pointing at Kenta] are gonna have an opportunity to attack but you’re not gonna do it! Cuz this is the small boy we keep on the ship, and that’s not what we fuckin do around here ok?”
~ “I was worried I was gonna need to use a spell or something. But I can save it all for you.” *rips his fucking shirt off and lets it fly dramatically into the wind* [i need everyone to understand that he did the 80,000lb anchor bit shirtless this is so important. also fuck canon his hair definitely came loose from its bun and flew dramatically behind him.]
~ *puts on the dread helm* “This is the helm I put on when I no longer need to be Gillion Tidestrider, Champion of the Undersea, Hero of the Deep. This is the helm I put on when I’m going to cut off your fucking hands. And I’m gonna make sure that whatever nightmares you walk out of here with are gonna be far worse than mine.”
~ *cuts off Kuba Kenta’s hand* “You know, I had some pretty bad nightmares recently myself. The crazy part of them was: you weren’t in them. Because the nightmare was I’d never be able to do That.”
~ “No I’m going to eat you! Not if i eat you first!” *Kuba Kenta grapples him with a bite* “No! You weren’t kidding!”
~ [directed at the moon] “Mommy help.”
~ “You know the crazy thing about nightmares, Kuba? They keep getting worse!” [makes anchor 80,000lbs and starts falling, grabs onto Kuba] “NIGHTMARE NIGHTMARE NIGHTMARE NIGHTMARE NIGHTMARE NIGHTMARE!”
~ “Huh. That is really soft- AAAGHHH”
~ Charlie: “I look at Chip then I look down at the cat then I look back up and give him a little thumbs up and then I fucking fall through the ground at 1000 miles an hour.”
Bizly: “I open up the door. I close back the door and look at Jay. (as Chip) ‘There’s a lot goin on out there.’”
~ ‘Light Mode!’ being the command word for the anchor because the command for Chip’s sword is ‘Hot mode’
~ “I just have a feeling if i get out on the dock wrong and hit my shin I’ll die. That’s kinda where I’m at right now and I do that, Chip, a lot.”
~ “When he’s up, and if he ever decides to come after us ever again, I will literally eat him as promised!”
~ “Is it just a thing then you people in the navy say to fuck with us before you die? Like just some shit like ‘I’ll be back’? Cuz that is kinda wrong.” *looks at kira* “We’ll be back.”
~ “Nice to meet you! Gillion Tidestrider. Sorry it couldn’t be on better terms. Thanks for being down there, I appreciate it. Um. Your vice admiral is a bit of a cock. Huge cock.”
~ Gillion: “I didn’t know you had gills, by the way. That’s great! That makes things a lot easier.”
Jay: “Yeah, no, they kinda hurt. When I put them in.”
Gillion: “…..When you what?”
Charlie: “And Gillion is deeply disturbed by this, enough to just leave the situation.”
~ *looking at the scratches from Kuba Kenta* “I’m sure I’ll figure it out. *looks at Chip’s bed* Hopefully he, at least, is sleeping a bit more soundly. And then I narrate as I crawl into my barrel, head first, and rotate into a fetal position.”
.
i am so very normal about him. anyway rb/tag with you favorite riptide quotes (gillion or otherwise) but please no spoilers for the latest ep.
#jrwi#gillion tidestrider#blorbo from my shows#jay ferin#chip bastard#original post#just roll with it riptide#jrwi riptide#jrwi show#just roll with it#just roll with it podcast#text post#jrwiblr#albatrio#jrwi gillion#champion of the undersea hero of the deep my beloved#jrwi spoilers#episode 90#jrwi quotes#gillion tidestrider quotes#hit dnd podcast just roll with it is my current hyperfixation i can’t stop thinking about Them#i was having a shit day but remembering how gillion turned kuba kenta into jello made it a little bit better#im so normal about him can you tell#sock rambles#my posts
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Just Pretend [n.s.]
Chapter Twelve
The last show in France came and went and before we knew it we were walking into the Airbnb we had for the two shows in Spain. I yawned as a shiver wracked my body from the chilly night air, bringing my suitcase to a halt so I could wipe the tears out of my eyes. Nicholas chuckled beside me and rubbed my back.
"I wish I could say the very little sleep gets easier, but it doesn't. At least it's only midnight so you can get a little more rest than usual." He said, pulling the hood off his head.
I smiled at him and stretched out my sore muscles. "This is nothing. When it's actually cold outside is when I'll really be yawning."
"You're a cold sleepy person, huh.?" He questioned with a chuckle as he grabbed some water from the kitchen.
"Almost too cold." Noah's voice chimed in from behind me before I could reply.
I squinted my eyes at him, stifling the grin that threatened to make its way on my face. "At least I don't make the room a sauna."
"True. These bitches cut off my A/C all the damn time. Pisses me off." Noah said, shooting pointed looks at the boys.
Folio held his palms up. "Don't include me in that, I don't live there."
I scrunched my nose. "How do you relax without cool air?"
"A/C is not meant to be run when it's cold outside." Nicholas yelled from the kitchen.
"It's also not meant to be 1000 degrees inside." Noah said, raising his hand up to lightly pinch my nose as he walked past me.
I scrunched my nose at him as a smile slid on my face, watching his back as he retreated to claim a bedroom. I turned to look at Jolly, who was standing beside me and giving me a look as if he could read my thoughts.
I furrowed my brows at him. "What?"
He shook his head with a side grin. "Nothing. I just see everything."
"Everything of what?" I questioned.
"Just everything." He said before going to claim his own bedroom.
I squinted my eyes at his back before making my way to the hallway to claim my own bedroom- even though I'll more than likely be using very little of it. My eyes landed on Noah, who was leaning casually against his doorframe with his arms crossed and hood over his head.
I paused in the middle of the hallway, causing Folio, who I didn't realize was behind me, to run into my back. I stumbled forward a few steps as Folio's arms shot out to stabilize me but wound up pushing me right into Noah's outstretched arm.
"God, sorry Folio." I said, turning to apologize to him.
"It's ok, I think I was half asleep." He said through his yawn, rubbing his eye sleepily.
I chuckled and squeezed his arm. "Go pass out in a bed."
He nodded and sloppily kissed my cheek as he walked past me. "Goodnight, Maddie, I love you." He said through another yawn.
I laughed and watched him drag his feet to the end of the hall. "I love you too, sleepy head."
I turned to look at Noah, who was looking at me with a raised brow. "What?"
"Why are you going to claim a room when you'll just be in mine?" He questioned, crossing his arms back across his chest.
I chuckled at him. "Because won't it be a tad suspicious if I put all my stuff in your room if I have a perfectly good empty one right across from you?"
He snorted and squinted his eyes at me. "Maybe you should just go room with Folio since you loooveee him so much."
I raised my brows at him and pushed my suitcase into the empty bedroom before walking closer to the pouting man. "Are you jealous right now?"
He sniffed and pushed off the doorframe, taking a step backwards into his room. "No." He said stubbornly.
"Ah. So you won't care if I actually take you up on that suggestion?" I asked, turning as if to walk towards Folio's room.
He took one long stride forward to grab my hand, causing me to look at him in amusement. "Don't."
I chewed on the inside of my lip to hide the humorous grin that threatened to break across my face. "You want me to stay with you, huh?" He pursed his lips but stayed silent, his grip still on my hand. "I'm gonna need you to use your words, Sebastian."
He sighed dramatically and threw his head backwards. "Maddie, will you stay with me?"
I let my smile break free and reached up to pat his cheek. "See, that wasn't so bad."
He sighed again. "Well?"
I chuckled. "Let me shower and I'll be in here."
"But-" He started before I cut him off.
"No I will not shower with you because I want a quick, hot shower so I can get in bed, capiche?" I said, chuckling as I watched his face fall into a pout.
I pulled his head down to kiss his cheek before turning on my heels to quickly make my way to my room before he could pull me back. I shut the door behind me and shook my head with a chuckle, opening my suitcase to pull out an oversized sweatshirt and some leggings. I quickly showered, washing my hair and body before doing a quick shave, and dried off before getting dressed. I brushed my teeth and ran a brush through my hair before flicking the light off, grabbing my phone charger and phone. I turned the bedroom light off and shut the door softly behind me as I made my way into Noah's room, shutting his own door softly as well. He was walking out of his bathroom, rubbing a towel over his head to dry it off from his own shower.
"You know, for someone who agreed we both didn't need anything but casual you sure are needy." I said with a chuckle.
He squinted his eyes at me as he tossed his towel on the sink. "I don't wanna sleep alone."
"Fair enough." I said before plugging my phone up and sliding into his bed.
He turned the bathroom light off so that the only light on was his bedside lamp, which cast a golden glow over his bare torso. I rolled on my side and watched his every move as his muscles flexed while he pulled on a hoodie, my eyes never leaving him. He looked down at me as he fixed the hoodie, lashes creating dark shadows on his cheeks. He crawled into the bed painstakingly slow before reaching over to caress my cheek with the back of his finger. I reached up to do the same to him with my thumb before pulling him down to press my lips onto his. He dropped his hand to slide it underneath my hoodie, rubbing up my side and sending goosebumps up by body. Our lips worked together in unison deeply. There wasn't any urgency to the kiss like there normally was. Every move was slow and deep, as if we had all the time in the world to relish in each other's embrace. He rolled me on my back so he was leaned down over me, his hand coming up to rest on my breast and gently squeeze it. He broke the kiss to look down at me, eyes searching my face with some sort of emotion I hadn't seen in them before.
"What?" I questioned quietly.
He shook his head as he kept looking over my face, bringing his hand out from under my hoodie to rub a hair off my forehead. "Nothing." He said before sliding his arm under my body and pulling me towards him to lay on his chest.
I placed my hand on his chest and began rubbing circles there, leaning my head back to look up at him. He was staring at the ceiling and chewing on the inside of his lip as he absentmindedly ran his fingers up and down my back over my hoodie.
I furrowed my brows at him and placed my hand on his cheek so he would look at me. "What's going on in your head?"
His eyes searched mine for a bit before replying. "I'm glad you saved that girls life at the festival."
I softly smiled. "Just doing my job."
"If you weren't there, you wouldn't be here." He whispered, voice barely audible.
I rubbed his cheek with my thumb. "I'm glad I'm here."
A crooked grin slid onto his face before he went back to staring at the ceiling, in his head again. "Me too."
I furrowed my brows again as I stared at his face in confusion with the mood change. I took a deep breath and let it out before settling onto his chest more, deciding to let him be with his thoughts. He'll tell me about them if he wants to.
A wave of sleep washed over me and my eyes slid shut, dozing off into the darkness as Noah's heart kept racing with whatever was going on in his head.
#noah sebastian#bad omens#noah sebastian fic#noah sebastian smut#noah sebastian fanfiction#noah sebastian fanfic#bad omens fanfiction
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| For all the world to see
Character(s): Cater Diamond
TW: Bullying but it's basically physical and emotional abuse, injury, fighting (wrestling), violence, blood, swearing, angst, allusions to trauma, people pleasing, there's like 1000 words of Cater getting beaten rather violently really, there's more but they aren't registering in my brain rn
Genre: Angst
Notes: Request for @blitzdragonking || Never written something involving a physical fight in this much detail before. Also haven't written something this long in a very long time. Fun || WOW this does not match my blog aesthetic at all
Cater never thought himself the type to get violent and most people around him would agree. Sure, there were a few jokes that he would get into a brawl over certain celebrities and certainly to be able to get a selfie with Vil Schoenheit but no one ever meant it. He was passive and most of his defence came from his jovial disposition, a constant act to keep up to ensure that people thought he was unbothered by what they said or how they acted towards him. He acted however he needed to so people would only see what he wanted them to, his soul knew that much.
Split card. His unique magic. How ironic that he tried so hard to make sure that he would always be the happy, magicam addicted Cater when his soul would be put on display at any given moment of his use of it. It felt so pointless to keep up the facade when it was made so easy to see through so why continue? If his own magic would hint at his weakness then why not expose it himself?
He was a coward at heart, constantly running from his feelings despite being so well attuned to those of other people - it was no wonder that he just tried to grin and bear it when he heard the jeering, a horrible, degrading sound that he refused to register in his brain despite it filling his ears.
A mocking laughter that he was so used to followed by the equally mocking agreements of people around him. He ignored them despite the cautious looks of Trey and the Adeuce duo and the bristling hairs of Grim who's violent words and intentions were only muffled by the hand of an equally concerned prefect.
"You guys should be more respectful towards a senior-!" Deuce's tone shifted to one more violent as his gritted teeth and fisted hands no longer allowed him to just ignore the other students' disrespect to the Heartslabyul third year, the first year almost standing from his seat in his anger and ready to start a fight.
Even Grim's struggles had gotten so bad that he'd managed to escape the unrelenting hold of his prefect. "Myah! He's right! Only we get to make fun of him! Now back off before I charr you!" Grim's ears burned brighter and fire puffed from his mouth in warning.
Cater's smile tensed almost unnoticeably save for to the third year beside him who's eyebrows furrowed. Trey was barely staying out of it for the sake of his friend but he was seriously beginning to doubt that Cater could just "deal with it" on his own. This wasn't simple taunting anymore. They were targeting Cater specifically and their words didn't sound so general anymore.
They knew him and what would annoy him. It was clearly a lot more personal than that.
"Woah, Loosey Deucey ain't looking too loose all of a sudden!" He was grateful for the fact that his words had the first year flushing in embarrassment and seating himself again though his annoyance hadn't died down at all.
"Seriously, you're just gonna let these guys walk all over you? What, are you only a little sneak whenever it comes to us? Really feeling the senior care over here." Ace's words could have been interpreted as mocking really. It probably would have been easier if that was how Cater had decided to take them. But he couldn't. Not when he knew that it was his way of telling Cater that he shouldn't let himself be treated like that. That Ace apparently knew that Cater would be able to deal with them.
His laugh sounded real to him so hopefully it sounded the same to everyone else. "Come on, newbies, you're getting way too fired up over this. You get these kinds of people all the time. Kinda like really bad ads, yano? Don't need to like and subscribe to this brand of person for them to follow you around all the time." He rolled his eyes with an easy smile and his posture relaxed despite his tense shoulders and the light but quick tapping of his foot against the ground, as if he wanted to run away.
And he did. He always did. He wanted to run away from the people that made his heart beat so fast, so painfully, in his chest and made his muscles tense up in fear. He hated that he wanted so badly to turn around and keep his eyes on the people that had tormented him relentlessly through his childhood and still wouldn't leave him alone now to be able to anticipate if he would need to dodge, or block or run. So he would at least know if he was okay to intense his muscles, to relax because they've decided that, today, he wasn't worth their time.
This time he wasn't. He let go of a breath that had caught in his throat at the found of their footsteps. Evading as usual.
He ignored the looks that everyone at the table gave him and the inevitable lectures about how he should be more assertive and how students like that shouldn't be allowed to attend.
It didn't matter much. He got out of it without a confrontation. It was an easy exchange.
…
He wasn't so lucky the second time around. A fight was avoided but he could practically feel the tensions rising.
He could feel their eyes on him long before they actually showed up, another peculiar trait of Savanaclaw students. They were all rather intent on watching before they made a move. At least that was his experience with them.
The newer students seemed to be a lot more prone to jumping in head first which was great to use to your advantage whenever they would attempt to pick a fight.
The third years were a lot more difficult.
Again came the jeers and the snide comments that made him want to shrivel up under their gaze, a horrible kind of insecurity eating at him that only people that had known him for as long as these people had would be able to draw out.
But he couldn't. Not now, when he was with Trey. He'd been able to see through him for so many other things and he already looked at him with an expression that was too pitying for Cater to handle whenever these people were involved, he didn't want any more of himself to be exposed. Not to Trey and certainly not by the hand of any of these people.
Having Trey there made it worse. They could attack him. Not with a vice dorm leader present and certainly not Heartslabyul's. The risk of it being Off with their heads was something they didn't like.
It made Cater feel horrible; having Trey standing up for him.
He was supposed to be the unbothered one who never had any issues. He shouldn't have needed Trey to stand up for him. Not at the risk of him getting involved. Not at the risk of seeing him vulnerable in any capacity.
They left that time. Try didn't bring it up again but his gaze, questioning and concerned, said everything it needed to as the group of Savanaclaw students walked away, grumbling in annoyance and a silent promise of payback.
However this ended, it wasn't going to be pleasant for him.
…
"Come on. What are we, still kids?" It was a pathetic attempt to avoid a fight but an attempt nonetheless.
"Oh?" The Savanaclaw student's voice sounded closer now, a fake kind of disbelief in his voice, Chris, he was certain. It was a horribly familiar voice. "Acting all brave now are we? Let me guess, you were too much of a coward to show up here yourself, huh? Tryna trick us with that unique magic of yours again?"
His last sentence was emphasized by his hand fisting into Cater's hair, pulling him back by his head and causing a rush of adrenaline and fear to shoot through the Heartslabyul student's veins as he responded instinctively, grabbing onto the hand that had a hold on his hair and twisting his body around, taking the arm with him as he forced the other student to let go of his hair, something that he was too used to having to do when learning a few things with his sisters.
Cater would have frozen at the expression that his long-time aggressor had sent him but he couldn't, body working almost on instinct alone in the rush of the moment, his mind barely processing what he'd done.
He really shouldn't have overestimated how much time he would have as Chris steadied himself almost immediately.
Cater already knew that this fight was unavoidable, his hands, in an almost practiced motion despite the rushed way in which it was done, undoing his tie and the first few buttons of his shirt, throwing them to the side. He knew what would happen if Chris ever got a hold of those while he was wearing them.
Chris lunged at him without warning, grabbing onto Cater and almost throwing him into the nets and supports nearby, his body skidding along the floor and into the metal poles and sending a crash echoing throughout the gym at the force.
His head spun and chest ached horribly, the metal of the netting supports pushing against it after the hit. He registered somewhere in the back of his mind that it would leave a bruise but his body was still reacting faster than his mind. He heard a yell somewhere, or maybe multiple - he couldn't tell, and the clambering of multiple pairs of feet. Nothing really made sense in his mind, none of the words really joining up to have any distinct meaning. They were all too far away regardless so they didn't matter to him.
"Urk- sh-shit…"
He rolled onto his front, despite the pain, and attempted to lift himself off the floor, taking in sharp breaths. However, his opponent was on him much faster.
He made a grab at him, reaching for his arms, but Cater rolled out of the way, using Chris' slight crouch as leverage to get up behind him quickly and pull his legs out from under him, dropping him onto his front. He was winded and sore but it was dull for now, a pain that would only come to be an issue after the adrenaline had worn out.
Again, Chris got up much faster than Cater and was in a much better state. Not even that out of breath while Cater was already close to having to gasp for air.
He heard the low growl from the Savanaclaw student and instinctively dodged, taking it - and correctly - as an indication that he would throw a punch. He was lucky that he had speed as an advantage over him.
While his opponent was big and bulky, extremely buff for that matter thanks to three years with the Savanaclaw training regime, he was lighter on his feet. He could never beat him if it came down to physical strength alone but, for now, he would manage. At least, he hoped.
Ducking under another punch, threw one of his own into Chris' side which he wasn't able to dodge, grunting in annoyance at the action and bringing his arm right back to swing into Cater's shoulder.
His body lurched to the side, legs barely managing to steady himself. Nothing broken, just bruises for now.
He didn't have the energy to try and dodge Chris' next attempt so take him down. An arm hooked around his neck and the pressure had him clawing at it, panic striking him so intensely that he felt his vision blur for a moment and nails break skin before his back collided violently with the floor, a pained cry of pain escaping his lips.
Cater didn't know how he managed to get himself up off the floor that time, muscles burning with pain and almost certain that his nose was beginning to bleed. "Shit. Seven that hurts…" His words were more of a comfort to himself, to remind himself that he was still conscious.
He couldn't see his opponent and that was the first cause of alarm when he got up.
The sudden feeling of two arms hooking under his armpits made him jolt and causing pain to flash through his body as his back bent backwards and feet almost left the floor.
He was completely helpless with nowhere to go and nothing to be able to defend himself with. Not like this.
"Hah." A single, somewhat breathless laugh left the Savanaclaw student's mouth.
His head pushed back against the hands behind it but it was soon that his chin was pressing into his chest.
Cater used his unique magic. It was his only option.
The arms under his loosened at the sight of 4 other Caters appearing and his heartbeat spiked again. He took the chance to slip out from his arms, getting behind him again, forcing his weight on him in a sudden motion and sending him toppling to the floor, his head hitting against one of the detached basketball hoops.
He winced audibly and got up, a snarl rumbling lowly in his throat as he got up though now out of breath.
He didn't make another move. He wasn't the type to do so even now with 4 of his clones standing beside him, all defensive and ready to respond to Cater's thoughts and commands.
Chris didn't make an attempt to hurt him again, just eyeing him up as they both tried to catch their breaths.
Cater didn't think anything was wrong about the sudden pause until he saw something of a bubble around the two of them briefly glow purple and he looked around.
There were people all around and yet none of them could seemingly get into this own specific space that the two of them were in. Where they'd come from he didn't know. Maybe the yell from before.
His breath shook as he muttered a fearful, "Shit," under his breath at the sight of all of the spectators.
He looked up, pupils constricting as he turned his gaze to the smug expression of his opponent, as if he was telling him that he was screwed. This had to be his unique magic. It would have explained so much.
He couldn't think much longer, as he heard a voice following his opponent's eyes flicking to look behind him.
"Thought you'd never let me in here."
He turned so he was standing side on, knowing that he didn't have a chance at all if he turned his back to their familiar faces. Familiar but not welcome, only causing a cold fear to grip at his heart.
He didn't have much of a chance anyway. Not against two Savanaclaw students, even with his Clones. Not when he was so hyper aware of the amount of eyes on him, people banging on the shield trying to get to him, others cheering distantly and whooping, encouraging the fight. He could barely hear them through the barrier but his mind was making up their words regardless.
He wanted to get out. He needed to. It was horrible, being watched by so many people; to feel so vulnerable and exposed. He hated it. He felt that he was on display. And he was.
He didn't have long to dwell on it, the second of the two, one that he recalled tended to be a lot more brash, charging at him, throwing his weight at his form and sending the both of them tumbling to the floor grappling with each other, Cater gritting his teeth while he did everything that he could to throw the other student off of him and keep his hands away from his neck.
His clones responded immediately, all clambering to drag the newcomer - Nelson - off of the actual Cater.
He concentrated as much of his strength as he could into a sharp jab of his elbow, promoting a grunt and the loosening of his opponent's hold on him that gave him the chance to maneuver himself and knee him in the stomach, finally removing the pressure off of his chest.
Cater stumbled back. He knew his legs would give out and soon but he needed to hold out. Just a little while longer. Just until he found a way out.
He surrounded himself in his clones, each of them mixing around each other. It wasn't the first time he'd done this and he did it with a clear amount of practice. He was lucky that his clones were made in the image of whatever his current state was.
Another low growl, this time from Nelson, as him and Chris looked at each other, communicating wordlessly and having Cater stand on guard.
He wasn't sure what their intentions were until they both lunged at once.
They weren't trying to hurt him, nor the clones, not yet. They were just trying to find which was the real one. And Cater was quickly running out of time to be able to continue tricking them as Nelson took hold of clone after clone, growling in frustration each time as if he was able to tell which one was him. They were struggling though. He had time. Not a lot, but he had time. So long as the clones held them off.
It didn't occur to him that he could in fact tell until he was the one grabbed, an arm around his neck once again that had him flailing in Nelson's hold. His eyes widened in shock and horror when all of his clones disappeared.
He was thrown again, this time only hitting the barrier. It didn't hurt so much but his muscles protested as he attempted to quickly scramble to his feet, adamantly avoiding the eyes of those who were watching him.
He was fast but he wasn't fast enough. Not when his muscles burned with overexertion and he felt like he could barely breathe.
"Ah- shit!"
Two arms hooked under his armpits again, forcing him to jolt upwards with the force of them and causing him to curse his attacker and he felt his body get lifted off the floor. He felt the air get locked out of him as his arms were forced above his head once again as the hands locked around the back of his head, forcing it forwards until it pressed painfully against his chest.
"Come- Come on, can't we just let this go?" His voice cracked, lips dry and lungs short of breath. "Please, just- please, just stop-"
The arms on either side of him slammed down onto either side of his torso as a way to shut him up and he almost screamed in pain as he felt his bruises flare and the feeling of what he was certain was a cracked rib. His gritted teeth muffled a sob and tears collected at the corners of his eyes.
He tried to move as he spoke but it was no use, the feeling of a knee on his back and pushing into his bruises forcing him to stay still but he struggled nonetheless, a pained cry leaving his lips as Chris approached him, terrifyingly intent as whimpers of "Fuck. Fuck, fuck, no, don't-" followed his movements and delivered a swift kick to his stomach that made all of his muscles tense up and vision blur.
He really could hold back the cry that left him that time, a howl of pain that had even the spectators freezing and some almost completely stopping their cheers and chants.
He was done. He hadn't stood a chance from the beginning. He couldn't keep fighting as his vision blurred and the pain became too much and he went limp on the floor mere moments after there was a sudden onslaught of cheers and panicked yells in his ears.
Do not repost or claim. Only reblog 💕
#twst#twst wonderland#twisted wonderland#twisted wonderland fanfiction#twisted wonderland fanfic#twst fanfic#twst fanfiction#twst cater#cater diamond#twisted wonderland cater
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Hey bestie, hope everything is going well with your real life responsibilities ❤️ Chapter 12 was soo good tho!!! I know I personally had nothing to do with the story, but damn did I feel proud reading that last chapter and then both parts of the story together. I know you have a lot more planned (squealing in excitement) but even without it is such a good fucking story. So well rounded and the world you created just…UGH!!! i can go on and on and on about how much I love it but I’m not gonna turn this into an essay.
Thank you for sharing your work with us!! ❤️❤️❤️
Heeeyyyy, I (think) I'm doing alright with my real-life stuff, lol! Is it kinda bad that I have a 2500 word thing due on Thursday and I've written maaaaaybe 300 words? I mean, I know what I'm doing for it now, so that's already half the battle, right? (Plz someone help enable me)
I'm so so happy it reads well together, as I was just churning stuff out like an absolute demon without really making sure it all flowed (I mean, I have gone back and rephrased little bits and pieces, little inconsistencies I've noticed, and of course sometimes I change the High Valyrian when I've realised my earlier translations were incorrect). It's a bit of a weird 'verse in that it isn't completely Reader-oriented but it isn't OC either; vague enough that you could feasibly superimpose whatever in there but detailed enough that there's very real opportunity for the audience (I hope) to feel as though they're connecting with the events that unfold as they play out. I started this as a writing exercise, and honestly I'm finding it way easier than third-person fics or first-person OCs, which I've tried (and failed) my hand at in the past. My idea (vaguely) is that as Reader 'grows up', the political subtext becomes less 'sub' and more 'text' - the audience gets to immerse themselves in the game of thrones leading up to (and potentially including, IDK) the Dance.
Thank you so so much for reading! Looking forward to sharing my next thingo with you guys, so far I'm at around 1000 words (keep in mind these will be shorter than my usual chapters most likely).
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THE BAD GUYS BOOKS SENTENCE STARTERS
“After all we’ve been through, you really don’t know?”
“Are you a GOOD GUY or a BAD GUY!?”
“Are you ready, pal?”
“Are you worried about [name]?”
“Climb aboard, and I’ll get you out of here.”
“Don’t look at me like that. YOU said it.”
“Every mission needs a leader.”
“Full throttle! Let’s hightail it outta here!”
“Get her out of here!”
“He wanted us to use those powers.”
“Hey! Did he just eat the [thing]!?”
“He’ll hide as far from me as he can.”
“He’s not here.”
“How did you guys afford all this?”
“How much farther?”
“I can outrun it!”
“I decided to follow my dreams.”
“I don’t care about your explanation! I just want the TRUTH.”
“I don’t see [name] anywhere…”
“I don’t suppose you’d help me talk to him?”
“I don’t want to know.”
“I guess my dream is to wake up tomorrow being just as perfect as I am today.”
“I have to admit it, man. We need some help.”
“I just wanted to apologize and try to explain a little bit about what’s been going down.
“I really am so proud of you.”
“I think [name] and the guys have been captured!”
“I think that’s code for ‘go away’. Am I right?”
“I thought you might like some help.”
“If anything moves within 1000 yards, I’ll see it.”
“It always has to be the hard way.”
“It can be yours!”
“It doesn’t give us the right to give up.”
“It’s funny, but we’ve been through A LOT, right?”
“It’s over. Put down your weapons.”
“It’s time to be heroes.”
“I’d probably rather go with those guys over there, too.”
“I’m [name], in case you were wondering.”
“I’m afraid you’re a little out of your depth here.”
“I’m awesome enough to be cool with that.”
“I’m the only one who can stop him.”
“I’m trapped over here with a bunch of oddballs and weirdos.”
“Keep it together, will you?”
“Let it go, [name]. No one is coming to help you.”
“Let me at him.”
“Let me out of here!”
“Let’s move out!”
“Looking sharp, big guy.”
“Man, does this girl have some explaining to do.”
“Meet you back here.”
“Miss me?”
“My heart just exploded.”
“No one must ever know of this.”
“Oh…THAT’S what you said.”
“Relax. It’s just me.”
“She doesn’t look good…”
“Sorry, it’s hard to say this with a straight face.”
“Stay right there! It’ll make it so much easier to annihilate you!”
“That was weird, right? Hands up if you thought that was weird.”
“That’s really not important.”
“The [name] you know is gone!”
“The REAL enemy is on the way!”
“There is ONE chance. ONE!”
“There isn’t something behind me, is there?”
“There’s no time to lose!”
“They are the best of the best.”
“This is getting serious.”
“This is just a dream.”
“This ridiculous hero thing has caused us nothing but trouble and I’ve had enough!”
“THIS WAS A TERRIBLE IDEA!”
“This will change their minds.”
“Traitor!”
“We have to keep going.”
“We owe it to that numbskull to NEVER give up.”
“We should go look for him!”
“Well, hello, genius. Nice of you to join us.”
“Well, I could do that…but then it hit me.”
“Well, it could be worse…”
“Well, the building is about to blow and we have seconds to live. Any ideas?”
“Well…I guess it wouldn’t hurt to take a peek.”
“We’re gonna kick some behinds!”
“We’re, like, totally different, really.”
“What could possibly go wrong with that?”
“What do you think you’re doing!?”
“What just hit us!?”
“What? So this is all MY fault now?”
“Whatever you do - DON’T. MOVE.”
“What’s happening to me!?”
“Where’d he get that from?”
“Who could possibly save you?”
“Whoo! You’re starting to get the hang of it.”
“Why are we slowing down?”
“Will you make the journey for us?”
“Yep. he’s got it now.”
“You both need to stop arguing. It’s starting to really upset me.”
“You can’t use your witchy powers on me!”
“You didn’t listen to my advice and it blew up. Again.”
“You guys are really something!”
“You know…I thought you didn’t like him.”
“You want a ride?”
“You’re a monster!”
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Howdy there! [chews on a weed]
4, 5, 7 (I know this is rude to ask, but do we not all have someone we just can not stand???), 14, 18, 20, 23, 24, 32, 41, 66, 90 and 99?
I hope these are not too many, but I really like hearing/reading the answers. :-D
P.S.: Is it even called weed??? I mean ONE “thingy” of hay/grass/straw.
i think referring to it as a weed is acceptable though it DOES almost seem like you're like. chewing a joint. which is funny as well
i'm gonna put the majority of the questions under the cut for because
4. Kind of meal you really appreciate?
answered here
5. One disgusting meal in your eyes?
i try not to label meals as outright disgusting bc i think that can get problematic quickly. but i am a fairly picky eater for sensory reasons so. there is that. p much any like. ~mushy~ food is a no go.
7. Person you really hate?
uhhh,,, most politicians? at least american. but also probably in general
14. Do you think there's a higher species than us humans?
i don't know about species?? and i definitely don't have any like. ~religious beliefs~. but i wouldn't be overly surprised at there having at one point been some kind of ~higher power~ that enabled the universe to form the exact way it did to end up here
18. What do you think time traveling would be like?
i genuinely have no idea, but i am of the "we should not" belief system. what if we like. make the world implode on itself or something from so many paradoxes?
20. Something that makes your life easier? Smth you're glad about?
answered here
23. Best ingredients for a pizza?
a pizza place in my home town has a like. philly cheesesteak. pizza. and it's by far my favorite pizza. it's got white sauce and italian beef with peppers and red onions and just. yes 1000%
24. Do you have a green thumb? (are good with plants?)
i have. a truly absurd number of house plants. and i've only ever managed to kill a handful of them, so i think i'm pretty good!
32. Seven years ago, did you expect your life would be like this right now?
answered here
41. Which film scenes still affect you? (horror movies for example)
i'm taking this as a like gross out question. ummmm not a lot? it's not a ~film~ but there was a scene in the fall of the house of usher that got me (had to do with teeth). that's the most recent one i can think of
66. In your eyes, what makes a child worthy enough to have his own smartphone?
i don't think there's a ~worthy~ about it. i think it's a matter of having made sure said child understands internet safety and behavior and all of that. i certainly wouldn't give one to a kid under like. 13/14 though.
90. If you know your go-to person currently has time, do you still text them, call them or leave a voice message?
answered here
99. Does it matter to you there is no 100th question in here?
nah not really, i think it's kind of funny actually.
ask me questions from this list
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Yu-Gi-Oh archetype idea:
A deck composed of mainly level 10 or higher DARK attribute Plant, Fairy, Machine and Fiend monsters based off of internet cryptids/ARGs/analogue horror series.
There will be very few low level monsters (probably about 2-3). They would just make the big ones easier to get in the player's hand or be summoned.
They have a field spell that mainly provides 1000 ATK/DEF to all monsters of the archetype and it protects all face up in archetype spells/traps from destruction.
The 10 and higher monsters have huge numbers on them. Typically one of either ATK or DEF will be a minimum of 3500.
The deck will focus on controlling the board by sitting on big monsters and swinging for huge numbers.
They have 2 in archetype fusions (one for protection and one for swinging for huge numbers) and one XYZ which focuses on gaining stupid amounts of life points.
Most of the level 11 and 12 cards will have 4-5k in either ATK or DEF and minimum 3500 in the other. They don't have many ways of stopping the opponent, they are mainly huge and have protection from more specific forms of removal. (Think like protection from being tributed making Nibiru and Kaijus ineffective or protection from being flipped face down making cards like Book of Eclipse ineffective)
The ultimate payoff for the deck is a card that turns the field spell into a monster that always has 10k ATK more that any monster it battles. This is ment as the "that card you play cuz you need to see it if you can't just beat your opponent's face in by turn 7" card. It's basically an alt win con without being one. The downside is that because your field spell is still treated as one and gets all the benefits it provides to all of your other back row, you can't just drop it turn 3 and win. You have to actually play past turn 5 and have a load of cards in GY. However, dropping it gives you a guaranteed body who's OG attack is always gonna be 10k more than what it battles and doesn't change back.
That's my idea
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When you have to stay quiet. Zero dark, 30.
Ok but how you gonna say anything? Lmao.
Without admitting to being a damn spying motherfucker?
lol Leviticus
Shotguns and the indigenous Greenery
Now we get biblical.
Not in the Jesus kind of way
But in the old testament to Ash, leave them where they lay
Sodom and Gomorrah siren song
Where a lot looked back and saw the salt
His wife fall as the tears from his face. The salt was the same.
We’re talking 10 Commandments
Or 10 Command lines.
Airgas, in a flood, a torrent
A dark, dark, dark dark net torrent
Of information, flooding a particular access point
Filling the entire spectrum
With the seven seals
The seven trumpets
And the four horsemen
All set up
Bitch you know what I’m talking about
Stomp those feet baby stomp.
I can hear it from here
It’s funny that way
It’s very funny that way, because I understand what stemming is, as I am the same in that regard the differences
Let me channel a little Eminem
We can start with the Penis (mine is bigger by exponential amounts)
Then we can scream I don’t give a fuck and see, who really means it
When my balls hit the floor concrete cracks
When your balls come out, everybody laughs.
“See what he’s writing. “
🤏🏻👆🏻
Echoes of your own paranoia
Because you’re watching in real time.
Let’s let the rest of the world in on the Truman show huh?
You too loud.
Damn. Passive aggressive bullshit really.
Underground like a land mind.
Boom 💥
And you thought it was cool to ruin a friendship over all this. Without coming to me first. Just took actions into your own hands. Shit. Acting a lot like that person you in therapy over.
Oh. Oh? I don’t play fair.
You wanna pass judgment what you’re doing is infinitely morally worse than an addiction. You are driven by pure ego. Control freak behavior. Familiar. Hmm.
We can both break if we gonna walk down this bridge. Mutually assured destruction.
You don’t ever even see me. Ffs
And you know only the shit you’ve been spying on. Scum. Disgusting. All talk like you what to have a discussion but instead not a word. Just sideways roundabout shit. Judgmental glances. Never a “are you okay”.
So how you justify this? Peering into someone’s deepest and most intimate thoughts without their consent. No better than a rapist. The invasion is the same. And we both know mental wounds are much harder to heal.
Trust huh? Never had it with you it seems.
火にいきるのが死ねよ
That also explains the nonchalant attitude of my brother. Shit gets clearer and clearer. Say what you gotta say.
Ruin. Chaos for chaos sake. Bored and unfulfilled. So let’s start drama huh? Adopt 1000 mental disorders. Find a new identity. Make the ones around you enemies. When they care about you.
A master in self sabotage can easily recognize another. Queue up the blue October lyrics. Suicidal hate. Retarded disfigured clown, too much make up, it’s a lie how you act. But always always on stage. Histrionic. Borderline. Narcissist. Pick your flavor of the week.
Add in a little gasoline the self destructive kind, it’s become a part of your personality, only unlike Plath who phoenix flame rose to devour the ones around without recourse, indiscriminately burning
The world to a wasteland.
You are the self-immolating monk selling snake oil. You crave the camera but can’t light the match. Crave the attention but shy away from the flash. Talking a lot about smoke, but ecig when it counts.
PS,
How you like hearing your moms cheeks get clapped? Do I need to drop the pictures too. I think it’s easier to tell the truth.
Foiling your Deux
Fall out Boy Edition
Love from the other side, fuck it why not
Let’s go there, more like love from the afterlife
Apocalypse got the better of the whole damn nuclear family.
But the atom hurts the worst when the fission breaks away the til heat death do these bonds we break.
Bloodsport what too light a phrase
The hysteric craze
The blame laid
On a mantle too small and cluttered to hold another candle.
But you expect it to handle your wild fires , just as unpredictable,
I apologize in advance for the collateral damaged goods.
Baggage claim
This is the captain from the Malaysian plane.
And sugar it’s going down.
Loaded pistol grip pump when I cock my pen and pull it.
Not leaving this bed, hospice said
Sick in the head, in other words
I’m as ill as it gets.
Dance dance to the sound of beat down
Bitch this that friction in my genes that the original was talking about.
Only there’s no wish to be it.
Infact I prefer to just cackle and laugh
As the plane crash smashed what’s still intact of your sanity.
More vanity today.
Looking in mirrors and hate what you see
The bitch in reflections,
Welcome to the symphony
You called to strike up the band
But when the bass dropped and you had to with your thoughts
The thot in the mirror even saw what a raw deal they got.
So now you’re invisible, she ran away
At the thought of being you one more day.
Sorry prematurely I gotta cut it short and have to end it.
I mentioned earlier, there’s something else that needs writ and imma pin it.
They say the tribulation begins with a wailing and a gnashing of teeth. Bruxism keeps pace, there will be no teeth to gnash. Just dust and gums.
I will show you something different than your shadow at dawn weighing heavy behind you. Or your twilight wick at wax’s end. I will show you your traditions are naught but fear in a handful of dust.
The vessel, no the chalice bears no water.
Still we’ve yet passed the Thames
Or Styx or Lethe.
Yet all the same
April still to come, remains the cruelest month. So rudely forced.
“But what will people say?”
Zeus to Persephone.
So rudely forced.
The stork brings only deserts.
The San Pedro songs in fever dreams
We’re just so. Dreams.
Shattered like the mirror, like you. Like me.
I think it’s the similarities you resent.
Surrogate for the self.
Sterilize.
Better than euthanize.
Better than non-alive.
Because when you live the suffering is extended.
Saint de Sade. Patron Saint of Masochists and self flagellation.
Leviticus
Shotguns and the indigenous Greenery
Now we get biblical.
Not in the Jesus kind of way
But in the old testament to Ash, leave them where they lay
Sodom and Gomorrah siren song
Where a lot looked back and saw the salt
His wife fall as the tears from his face. The salt was the same.
We’re talking 10 Commandments
Or 10 Command lines.
Airgas, in a flood, a torrent
A dark, dark, dark dark net torrent
Of information, flooding a particular access point
Filling the entire spectrum
With the seven seals
The seven trumpets
And the four horsemen
All set up
Bitch you know what I’m talking about
Stomp those feet baby stomp.
I can hear it from here
It’s funny that way
It’s very funny that way, because I understand what stemming is, as I am the same in that regard the differences
Let me channel a little Eminem
We can start with the Penis (mine is bigger by exponential amounts)
Then we can scream I don’t give a fuck and see, who really means it
When my balls hit the floor concrete cracks
When your balls come out, everybody laughs.
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My bf's a gainer, he's struggling to gain more than 5 pounds a month. he want's to get to 15 a month, any advise on what to eat?
Think I’m gonna pin this post because I get asks like this quite a bit. I’ll do my best to help but everyone’s body is different. Here’s some tips:
1. I had a period from late March to early May where a friend helped me get some vhc boost (which I am very grateful for and could not thank them enough) and I ballooned from 228 to 242 in that time period. If you want to go that route you can but vhc boost is pretty rough to digest and cautionary tales on here have some weight. Still, VHC boost 2-3 times a day and you’re likely to gain a good 10 to 15 pounds pretty fast.
2. Be mindful of your calorie intake. It matters. Big time. Obviously some foods are heavier than others but I would shoot for 3000 calories a day to start. Some foods are really good like pasta, pizza, ice cream, many types of nuts are high calorie. Some foods are really not going to make a dent like chocolate, candy, sweets like that are not great weight gain inducers. Also add butter/cheese to more dishes that call for it or use them as alternatives. Drink whole milk.
3. This goes hand in hand with 2, limit movement. Be lazy. Take the elevator. With every movement, you burn calories. If you’re burning 1000, then you need to intake 4000 at least. This is kinda critical and you can get really accurate with how you track these things so that’s your call.
4. Liquor is bad if you’re trying to gain weight. Beer is good if you’re trying to gain weight. Weed is the best if you’re trying to gain weight. Do with that information what you will.
5. Drink your calories. Milkshakes. Weight gain shakes. High calorie coffee. Smoothies. Soda. Beer. Whole Milk. Whatever it is, I have found that drinking your calories is quite a bit easier than eating an absurd amount of food.
6. A note on apetamin: Apetamin 2-3 times a day before meals is a good way to eat more. It makes you feel like you can eat even if you’re pretty full so if you use it as a way to grow your appetite then it can be very useful. I’ve also noticed no side effects so it’s pretty safe to use.
8. I was so excited for this point that I skipped 7 because as a fat man who loves food, EAT. You need to eat/drink to gain weight. I did! And look at me now 😊
Edit: Apetamin can indeed make you drowsy. The first few times I took it that did seem prevalent. So a lil sleepiness is an expected side effect
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Bucky x reader, except the reader is also a supersoldier who went through the same thing, so she 1000% understands. They both wake up from a nightmare and comfort each other, and end up having very passionate sex.
oH mY gOd iZzY!??!??!! good lord that is 𝓈𝒽𝓇𝑒𝓍𝓎.
Anyway babe, here's a bucky x fem!reader fic for ya. also omfg i love bucky barnes sm 🥺 hnngh mr barnes can rail me any day
Warnings: smut (duh), p in v sex ;) a little angst kinda? top!Bucky, bottom!reader (kinda?) unprotected sex
Word count: 1,398
You and Bucky were no strangers to nightmares; over the years, both of you were frequently plagued by them. They never became any easier to manage.
You live in the now, but there is one thing that will always and forever be a part of your past.
The Super Soldier serum.
The Soldier is part of who you are - who you both are. It's a part of Bucky, a part of you.
It wasn't an easy decision to make; to take that acceptance of what the past had set you on, and face forward.
Bucky shouts, bringing you out of your light, fitful sleep with a jolt. You throw yourself up and away from the bed with one quick motion.
It takes a moment for your vision to clear, and your breathing to steady. By the time your heart slows back down to normal, you're aware of Bucky was sitting up, leaning back with his hands braced on either side of his hips, breathing harshly, and panting as sweat dripped down his face and onto his chest, fingertips glistening with moisture.
Your pulse hadn't even calmed down enough for you to register what caused it to speed up in the first place when you exhale sharply, seeing Bucky crouched in the middle of the bed, face contorted in the middle of a scream. You can't see his eyes behind the glare the moonlight throws at you, but you get the feeling he's looking right at you.
He's looking at you.
"Bucky," you say, softer than you intend to, eyeing him as you finish sliding up onto your feet in the floor. "Hey. It's okay, Bucky. Breathe," you offer, holding your hands out open and out to your sides, to show you mean him no harm.
Bucky doesn't register your words and doesn't stop staring at you. His eyes are wide, his fists clenched.
"It's only me, Bucky," you breathe. It's then you notice how tense his body is; the tic of the muscle in his jaw, the tension in his arms, the way his shoulders hunch. He looks like he's ready for a fight, ready to grab his weapon of choice and take aim for the kill.
"Bucky, look at me," you request, the words coming out as soothing as you think you can get them. "Breathe with me. Come on. It's just me. You're safe," you reassure, still maintaining a safe distance.
It takes a couple of seconds, but you can see the way his shoulders visibly relax when he finally looks up at you, breathing deeply and still shaking. The sight of him in the state he was in made your heart ache.
You nod, ready to approach.
"I'm sorry," he whispers, and you can hear him swallow audibly. "I…" he falters, pausing, and then he pauses again, exhaling harshly. "I'm sorry." he repeats.
"Do you...want to talk about it?" you ask tentatively, though you doubted he would. Neither of you liked to talk about your nightmares.
"No," he replies, almost immediately, though you can see him glance back at you briefly before his eyes avert back to their spot between his knees. "No, I don't. I don't want to…I don't want to think about it anymore."
"Okay," you agree, "Okay," you repeat again, slowly. "I don't expect you to." you add with a smile, though you doubt he can see it. You sit beside him on the bed.
You let the silence fill the space between you, letting him collect himself.
Finally, he says, “I don’t want to go back to sleep.”
You shift, tucking a loose hair behind your ear. “Well, what can I do to help?”
Dark, lustful eyes follow your silhouette. "I don't want to think anymore... just let me..." He whispers, the tone of his voice desperate.
You wordlessly nod, allowing him to pull you into a kiss. There’s nothing quite romantic about the way he kisses you, insatiable and impassioned. The kiss feels longer than it actually is.
Finally, you break apart, staring at each other for a moment longer before his eyes glance down to where your lips are still slightly parted, watching him.
Without another word, his cold metal hand slides up your nightshirt, leaving trails of goosebumps in it's wake. He helps you out of your shirt, leaving you in only your sports bra.
His brow furrows. He growls, and you can hear the telltale sound of tearing fabric - and then you’re bare for him, nipples hardening in the cool air.
You never liked that bra, anyway.
He mutters your name in appreciation, teeth grazing your neck. His hands trail along your body, like he was making sure you were real.
You wish you could see his brilliant blue eyes, if only to reassure him more.
He tugs impatiently at the waistband of your shorts, pressing his forehead to yours. You card your fingers in his hair, and before you know it, your shorts are uncaringly tossed to the floor.
He pauses at the waistband of your underwear. You can feel his hot breath against your neck, his fingers hooked at the waistband.
"Bucky," you plea softly.
That's seemingly all the motivation he needs, and your underwear is added to the ever-growing pile of clothes on the floor.
He doesn't hesitate to touch your clit, rubbing tight circles on the bundle of nerves.
You mewl, spreading your legs for him, anything to get more attention on your clit.
However, he abandons your clit in favor of something else.
You can feel the cold metal of his fingers In your searing heat, and you squirm. “Bucky, oh, God-” you mutter, biting your lip.
He shushes you, pressing a kiss to your lips. You quickly get used to the icy coolness of his fingers, it adds another layer to your pleasure. He buries his two fingers to the knuckle, pumping and curling his fingers just right, making you a wet, wanton mess.
He hits your G-spot, and you throw your head back, moaning aloud. He hits that spot a few more times before he removes his fingers, making you whine at the loss.
“Suck.” is his simple demand, fingers coated in your slick.
You oblige, sucking his fingers, the faint taste of metal mixed with your own juices.
He groans, and then his fingers - wet with your own spit - go back down to your clit, rubbing it with fast, light strokes.
You moan, clenching around nothing, aching for him.
Eventually, he stops, and you can feel the head of his cock brush against your entrance. He pauses, pressing his forehead to yours. "-needed this so much, Doll. God, I-" he trails off.
You press a kiss to his cheek. "I'm here, Bucky."
He exhales shakily, and suddenly, he buries himself inside of you to the hilt.
The noise that he releases is primal.
You moan at the feeling of being full, and the delicious stretch that comes along with it.
He stays like that for a brief moment, letting you adjust to him before he rolls his hips.
He thrusts sharply, experimentally, before he finds his rhythm, setting a frantic pace, fucking you like he'd never see you again.
He peppers kisses everywhere he can, kissing your lips, your cheeks, your neck, your shoulders - as you writhe underneath him, incoherently begging for more. He grips your hips, holding them tightly, muttering slurred praises in your ear.
It was something carnal, something wild and desperate, and it was so fucking good.
His skillfull fingers find your clit once again, and the combination of the attention on your clit and the way he hits your G-spot makes you cry out his name, you orgasm steadily approaching.
You clench around his cock and he groans in appreciation, kissing and nipping at your neck.
There was surely going to be a hickey on your neck and bruises on your thighs when you woke up tommorow, at the rate he was going.
His hips begin to stutter, his breath gets shaky. "'M gonna-" he warns,
You were about to respond when he pinches your clit, and your orgasm hits you suddenly, quickly. You yell his name, milking his cock.
He groans into your hair, whispering your name as he gives a few short, choppy thrusts before he orgasms.
You both sleep nightmare free the rest of the night.
-------
Taglist:
@rizwritesfandom @motherfuckingstargirl10 @haydens-moles
yo sorry this was vv not good ngl 💁🏻♀️ but like I'm really tired yall I'm sorry 🗿✌️ hope y'all enjoyed<3 also the ending was trash
Edit; wtf deadass I forgot the part where the reader was supposed to have a nightmare too????? Literally ignore me sldjfhskek
#bucky barnes#jo's writing#bucky barnes x female reader#bucky barnes smut#bucky barnes x fem reader#smut#izzy!#asks#smut fanfiction#fanfiction#marvel#marvel fanfiction#bucky barnes x reader#bucky barnes fanfic
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