#not to mention the fucking job market
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Finders Keepers warm up sketches b4 I start designing some character stuff
I missed themm
The DCAs arms/hands keep breaking because of how much they move and do silly acrobatics, pairing that with some leftover water+fire damage, it is one of the things that Y/N has to repair often;
New compatible parts are hard to find + expensive (considering how old the DCAs model is), so Y/N normally has to go to old faztech electronic trash dumps to find something that might work, which is usually pieces of other similar-looking Attendants from some old FAZCO animatronic line. You really hope sun and moon don't know about this, or else things will get awkward
#can I lore dump in the tags b4 my motivation for it runs out?#in this au FAZCO grew in the market and started to create animatronics for other needs#Entertainment. housecare. childcare. minor maintenance. repetitive jobs#ofc that the BEST animatronics stayed with fazco for their restaurant/pizzeria franchises#but faztech was basically everywhere now#like they probably had disney or google levels of growth#Anyways for lore reasons that i will still mention later#these faztech electronic trash wastes are certainly common#not only due to planned obsolescence but something else THAT I CANNOT MENTION RN#anyways yes there was a moment that there WERE many DCA looking walking around#but now like. half of them are in these trash dumps#we hate capitalism here 💛 fuck fazco megacorp arc#dca posting#mars artz#dca#dca au#dca sun#sun#fnaf au#y/n#dca x y/n#sun x y/n#finders keepers au
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...so you want a full time editor at an established academic press, in said press's main/flagship subject line, with a demanding workload... and plan to start them off at £20k a year (which works out to something absolutely pathetic like £7 an hour, BELOW MINIMUM WAGE, or approx. £1600 a month BEFORE ANY TAXES) in an unprecedented cost-of-living crisis, in one of the most expensive parts of the UK, do you....?
#hilary for ts#school stuff#the academic job market continues to be absolutely out of its fucking mind#like. that is unworkable!#not to mention insulting!#the sad thing is i am sure they will get applications anyway but WOW#academia: not even once
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so my oceanography prof gave us a discussion on climate change to do...it is my fuckin time to shine...
#personal post time#we have some military guy in our class#so this has been interesting#his solution of course was free market will take care of it#cuz yeah it's done a great job so fuckin far#also he mentioned something about dumping a body using ocean currents earlier#and I have never collectively seen a room roll their eyes so fucking hard
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Actually my current job is THE WORST POSSIBLE ONE for someone who likely has undiagnosed ADHD, because, like. That is Can't Use Your Frontal Lobe Disorder and your frontal lobe is essential for developing long-term habits, understanding consequences, and all the other future-oriented bullshit.
Well, I'm an independent contractor and I've been working for a whole-ass month and haven't made a single cent, because I have to cover my baseline before I can start earning commission.
Soooo basically everything I've done has been for FUTURE rewards, but oh my god that future is never EVER gonna come and I'm just working for free right now. And yeah, intellectually I get it, none of this is a surprise to me, I understand how my pay works and why, it's not unfair or anything, but. Like.
I'm working for free!!!! What the fuck is supposed to be motivating me here. Am I just supposed to be patient. Bitch wtf!!
It's such a self-perpetuating cycle because I have to work now to get money later, but the more I work without earning money the less I want to work, but the less I work the further away the money gets, which makes me want to work EVEN LESS, and etc etc etc. It's making me kind of goddamn crazy.
And god—GOD—I'm fucking heartbroken because I was so damn excited I cried when I got this job. But it's not working out, and the only way to make it work out is to simply work harder, but oh my god I can't. I cannot. I actually feel like my psyche is disintegrating. I WANT to work but I can't FORCE myself to work and I don't know what to do. I need to just fucking humiliate myself and admit that I am neither competent nor capable and quit. Just quit. God god god god god. I can't do this shit anymore.
(For the record, rejection sensitivity + cold-calling? Not a fun combo!!!!)
I don't know what to fucking do. I just have to find a job I can stomach. Literally nothing in life matters but finding a job you can stomach. Because I know, I know, I know I will never own a house, or go to Europe, or live without fear of medical debt, or have the money to raise a child (much less make one in the first place—not your cutest girl moment, lesbianism! 😠). I will never, ever be able to afford a future I want. Fine. But if I find a job I can stomach, at least I can have food and a roof over my head. Some drugstore makeup so I can pretend myself into loveliness. Maybe even a cat. That's all I need, really.
But how do I do that? How do I learn to function? How do I get out of bed every morning? How do I do the same damn thing every single day without wanting to kill myself? What can I stomach? Is there anything, anything at all at which I can be competent? What can I stomach? What can I survive?
And how do I do this? How do I learn to be a human being? How do I cup time in my hands so it stops slipping mere inches from my reach? How do I function? How do I wake? How do I find the strength to stand in the morning? How do I smile? How do I sleep? How do I live?
God save me, how do I live?
#not me being this fucking dramatic over uhh *checks notes* the fact that i have to get a job lmfaooooo#adhd#work shit#work blogging#marketing#capitalism#work#job#rant#vent#vent tw#vent cw#tw vent#cw vent#suicide mention#mental illness#neurodivergent#executive dysfunction#depression#personal
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i just.. really fucking feel a massive need to own a tv so that it can be on in the background at all times and while i am on the computer or phone, so that my dopamine can get dopamine
y’know?
#fun fact about a month ago i sent a remissal to one of the neuro-psychological clinics in town like hoo boy i think i have add i need help#and i did not skimp on details i mentioned i've lost like#$10.000 in a year on the stock market and i can't focus for shit or keep eye contact or deal with textures and i get exhausted if i work#for more than a month full time like i had to call in ''sick'' on previous jobs and just all the fucking details i could think about#and three weeks letter i got a letter saying 'there could be many underlying reasons for your symptoms. contact your local health clinic'#and in that moment i felt like a crow who wanted to round up the gang
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“nobody wants to work anymore‼️‼️‼️” bro you have to pass an ambiguous 50 question personality test to be able to work at walmart
#op#that’s not even mentioning the data mining fake job listings#or the ghost job listings posted by companies to make it look like the company is growing but they’re not actually going to hire people#or the fact that even when your interview goes really well (if you manage to obtain one)#the employers will simply ghost you & never call or email you back about it even to reject you#maybe if the job market wasn’t so shit people who be ABLE to work#but as it stands it’s damn near impossible to get a job stocking fucking shelves atp#and what will hire you doesnt pay a fucking thing . definitely not enough to pay bills#christ
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can someone PLEASE explain to me how life keeps happening to me in the wildest possible ways and yet i just sit here....... i didnt do any work to get to the place i am and somehow life happens. ... ........
#stfu ai#personal#like. i existed for years#literally dropped out of university bc my life was a shitshow#legit only worked bc yk. money#and all of a sudden i lost my job. then got a new job bc ?? someone just recommended me#i didnt go job searching bc i decided to just wing it#and then i get a job. and somehow then i got into politics.#and now im an alternate representant in my fuckin county somehow#so NOW I CAN VOTE AND DO ACTUALLY IMPORTANT THINGS FOR THIS ENTIRE GOD DAMN AREA.#A FUCKIN RANDOM ASS GOBLIN WHO GOT FUCKIN LAUNCHED INTO LIFE AGAIN AFTER BEING A HERMIT AND THEN THIS SHIT HAPPENS????#NOT to mention i got insomnia and barely get sleep so im not even a functional person rn anyways#what the fuck#also got my own place in an economy and housing market thats absolute dog shit too#??????????????????
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I just spent some time scrolling through this blog and am suffering from sever laughter. Thanks so much for collating the countries craziest moments. One of my favourites is when Scott Morrison was in Hawaii while the bushfires where burning.
December 2019: As Australia's east coast is engulfed in the worst bushfires in living memory, rumours begin to circulate that Australia's Prime Minister Scott Morrison may have secretly fucked off for a holiday in Hawaii.
Keep in mind, this is what is going down in Australia at the time:
The Hawaii rumour is initially written off as a fringe conspiracy, because surely nobody could be that fuckin tonedeaf, and it was quickly forgotten about... until an Australian man visiting Hawaii UPLOADED A SELFIE ON THE BEACH WITH THE PM THROWING A SHAKA.
At which point all hell broke loose.
Overnight the formerly popular "Scomo" became the most despised man in all of Australia. Think "firefighters shouting out of their windows to news cameras" level of despised.
After about two days of radio silence and pretending like he was still at home running the country, the Prime Minister's handlers finally dragged him onto call with an Australian radio station, where he pinky promised to return to Australia as fast as he could in an attempt to calm things down.
Unfortunately Scott's empathy consultant (a real job) then had to watch Scott pour more gasoline on the dumpster fire by uttering the now famous phrase "Look I don't hold a hose mate" when asked by the radio interviewer why the fucking fuck the fuckhead wasn't fucking in Australia doing his fucking job during a massive fucking crisis.
Testing just how much worse things could get, Scomo then proceeded to NOT rush back to Australia as promised, instead attempting to complete the rest of his holiday, a fact that was exposed when a passerby snapped a picture of him still lounging on the beach two days later.
Eventually, holiday complete, Morrison did reluctantly slink back to Australia, and in an attempt to calm things down, he decided to pay a visit to a small town that had been destroyed by the fires.
Which was a big mistake.
Scomo still had not registered how absolutely and totally he had screwed the poodle with his Hawaiian beach vacation, and he walks into what is now taught in PR classes as one of the greatest examples of "what not do do in a crisis" in all of history.
Scotty from Marketing, as he is now dubbed by the nation, spends a painfully cringe-inducing hour wandering around a burned down town with TV news cameras in tow, having to FORCE PEOPLE TO SHAKE HIS HAND in what is some of the most awkward footage you will ever see.
At this point it's probably also worth mentioning that, before becoming Prime Minister, Scott Morrison's biggest claim to fame in politics was being the guy that was so far up the coal lobby's arse that he literally brought coal into parliament and waved it around, claiming it doesn't hurt people.
So when a protest was organised it turned out to be one big national fuck you to the Prime Minister, the likes of which the world has never seen before or since.
Needless to say, at this point Scomo's career was dead in the water, but thanks to the rules brought in to stop Australian political parties from knifing their leader every two weeks (a popular Aussie passtime) Morrison basically couldn't get fired until after the next election.
And so, when the election rolled around in 2022, we decided that was an opportune time to travel over to Hawaii to erect this bad boy tribute to the Prime Minister, on the very beach where Scomo had sat and drank margaritas that one fateful week in December as Australia burned (thanks to @chaser for funding the ticket)
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tying you to me
Summary: When your boss, Bucky, apologizes for being rude to you once again, things take an unexpected turn.
Pairing: boss!Bucky Barnes x marketing director!female reader
Warnings: 18+, teasing, dirty talk, pet names, sir kìnk, breasts insecurity, protected séx, bøndage, a little degrading, praising kìnk, language, implied aftercare, no mention of y/n
Word Count: 5.2K
Bucky Barnes masterlist
A/N: I really hope you'll enjoy it!
Please, do not repost or translate without my permission!
He’s well aware he went too far. He noticed right when he finished talking and took a look at you, but what is said is said. And the last thing he wants is Steve annoying him about the meeting.
“I don’t question the way you deal with employees, do I?” Bucky snaps, tired and really wanting this day to be over.
“What has gotten into you? What bothers you so much about her? I just don’t get it.”
Bucky sighs deeply, rubbing his hand across his face in frustration. “It’s not just one thing,” he mutters, his tone weighed down by a mix of tiredness and anger. “It’s a culmination... She’s fucking impossible.”
“Bucky, I get you’re upset, but taking it out on her isn’t fair. She did an incredible job, but you didn’t even listen to her. What’s really going on here?”
“I feel like she’s not seeing the bigger picture. We disagree constantly, and it’s making things difficult. Maybe I overreacted, but it’s been building up for a while.” Bucky leans in as he speaks, with his shoulders slightly hunched forward. His voice carries an edge that Steve notices immediately. He knows there is something about you that affects Bucky, but he can’t quite put the finger on it. Ever since he hired you, Bucky’s been angry with him too, which has happened only two or three times over twenty years of friendship.
“I can see this is really affecting you, Buck. If there’s something personal or if my decision to bring her on board has caused you any discomfort, talk to me. I just wanna make sure everything’s okay between us.”
He leans back a bit, surprised. “Personal? No, it’s not… it’s not about that,” he stammers, searching for the right words. There’s a subtle shake of his head, almost as if he’s trying to dismiss his own thoughts. He wishes there was a personal connection so badly that it messes with his head…
“Then what is it? I didn’t mean to jump to conclusions. I know you hate when things are not under your control, but I made the right call to hire her. And you were really unfair to her, look,” Steve waves around as he speaks, and Bucky turns to look at you through the glass door. You’re still there… working. “She’s not just smart and creative, but also ambitious and hard working. I know how much you value this as well.”
“I didn’t mean to come off unfairly. It’s just…” Bucky sighs, moving to shift his gaze back to Steve. “Our ways clash, and it’s hard to manage it. I value her skills, but finding a middle ground seems impossible sometimes.”
“Look, Buck, I understand it’s tough, but it’s important to listen to her ideas too,” Steve responds, his voice carrying a firm yet empathetic tone. “Today? You didn’t even look over the outlines. Try giving her ideas a chance or just suggest new things without trashing all of her work. You’d be offended too.” He pauses, and Bucky’s focus is back on you. His eyes narrow slightly, studying your determined expression as you delve into whatever you are working on that he dismissed today. And for a few seconds a pang of guilt flickers across Bucky’s expression, which Steve immediately catches. He clears his throat and continues. “I understand it’s not easy to step back and apologize, but it’s not about who’s right or wrong. And, to be honest, you were wrong anyway. It’s about ensuring a healthy workplace.”
“I appreciate your perspective, Steve,” he begins with a calm voice. “But I don’t think it would make a difference.” His gaze briefly flickers towards you before returning to Steve.
“Trust me, it’ll make a difference, not just for her but also for the team. Give it a shot.” Steve smiles, patting him on the chest before standing up. “I’ll leave you to it. It’s so late.”
“Alright, lovebird, off to your nest?” Bucky teases. “Natasha’s waiting for her captain. Better not keep her waiting too long.”
Steve chuckles. “Well, someone’s got to keep the romance alive around here. Good night.”
“Night...”
*
The audacity of this man is unbelievable. After all that shit he pulled on you today, he has the nerve to order your food! He’s the reason why you’re still working at eight pm instead of lying on your couch.
You are so close to crying out of exhaustion and anger, but you won’t give him this satisfaction. And you won’t eat his food.
“Are you seriously gonna starve yourself?”
“I’m not hungry,” you retort, your voice sharper than intended as you give him an annoyed look.
Bucky’s expression softens instantly, a hint of concern flickering across his face. “Come on, you’ve been working the whole day” he insists, trying to reason with you. “You need to eat something. Did you even drink water?”
You shake your head weakly.
“Look, I-”
“If you don’t like Pizza, I can grab you something else.”
You raise your hand, waving around. “I appreciate it, but I’m fine. I’ll eat something when I get home.”
The idea of accepting anything from him like this feels wrong. You don’t want his pity.
“Stubborn as ever,” he sighs, muttering under his breath, and you look up to meet his gaze. For a moment, there’s a silent understanding between you, an unspoken acknowledgment of the tension lingering from earlier.
What did Steve tell him to make him actually try to have a decent conversation?
“Look, sir,” you say through your teeth. “I don’t want your pity. I appreciate your concern, but I’ll manage. I just need to finish this.”
“This isn’t about pity.” His tone is firm. “You’re exhausted, and I’m just trying to help.”
“I said I’m fine. I’ll be done with these.” You lift your papers to emphasize. “And get home.”
“You’re not fine!” he shoots, surprising you. “And you’re too stubborn to see it!”
You’ve never seen him screaming before. Even when he is angry, he’s always the silent type.
“Don’t you dare!” you fire back all of a sudden, unable to hold back. If you’ll get fired, at least you should speak your mind properly. You can’t take more of this. He can’t step on you without consequences. “You are the reason why I am here anyway. Don’t play the concerned hero, just take your food and eat it...” You pause for a second before sarcastically adding. “Sir.”
“This isn’t just about the food, is it?” Bucky’s voice softens slightly despite his impulse to raise his voice again. “It’s about the meeting.” You keep looking him in the eyes, not denying the obvious. Of course it’s about the meeting. “Look, I am sorry, I know I should have handled things differently, but I’m trying to make it right.”
“You think a wannabe apology and food make everything okay?” You ask bitterly, standing up. “You humiliated me, Mr. Barnes. You didn’t even hear me out, you didn’t even listen to my ideas, what the team and I managed to do in the last few months. You disrespected them too! And I don’t get it...” You hate how tall he is. How perfectly his suit is ironed. How nice his hair is. Fuck him! “Ever since Steve hired me, you refused to communicate with me. It’s like you have decided who I am and what I’m worth without even giving me a chance, without acknowledging my efforts and results!”
“That’s not true,” he begins, trying to defend himself even though you both know you are right. “I made a mistake, I admit it, but I want to fix it.”
“A mistake?” You laugh humorlessly. “For months you’ve been treating me like shit, excuse my language.” You shake your head. “Actually I don’t. You should be the one apologizing! You look at me as if I am a scum, as if my presence bothers you. I come to you only when I have to, and you act as if I want to waste your time. Well, I wasted mine for months in this company. With you!”
Bucky snaps, feeling the frustration taking over him. “My decisions are based on what’s best for the company. It’s nothing pers-”
“That’s just a bullshit excuse to maintain the status quo!” you interrupt him, the tension escalating. You don’t care about this job anymore. Whatever will happen, let it happen. “You’re a stuck-up asshole, resistant to change and blind to new perspectives! My perspectives only, to be clear.” You see him clenching his jaw before his left hand covers his jaw. Oh, he’s angry. Good! “And it’s not even out of misogyny since you get along just fine with Shuri. So what is it? What is it, Mr. Barnes, that makes you hate me?”
“It’s not about you,” he insists, his voice strained with the effort to keep calm. “It’s about maintaining stability. It’s about-”
“Bullshit! You’re threatened by anything that challenges your authority! You’re just frustrated and insecure. You’re scared that someone else can do better things in their own way. You’re just a tyrant! I don’t know how Steve is friends with you. He’s such a great man, and you’re a dick.” You laugh. “God, I wanted to tell you this for so long. And if it’s not clear, I fucking quit!”
You’d smile widely if it wasn’t for his snort.
“You’re not quitting,” Bucky’s voice is low, but you still hear it.
He doesn’t believe you, clearly. But he will because you’re not joking or backing off. You can’t take another humiliation session, especially when you did nothing to deserve it. As much as you admire Bucky’s intelligence and company policies, he’s a fucking douchebag. To you.
“Watch me,” you retort instantly. Your heart starts racing as he takes another step toward you. He’s so close that you only need to get on your tiptoes to kiss him.
“No, you’re not quitting. And you’re not walking out that door until we settle this.”
“Settle what, Barnes? Your ego?” You try to maintain your composure, but the closeness makes it hard for you to focus.
He sighs, and your eyes find his lips again. They are pink and wet from his tongue. If only he was less of an asshole and not your boss, maybe you would...
“This isn’t just about me and my authority.”
“Then what is it?” You're confused.
“It’s about you challenging everything I’ve built here,” he admits, looking straight into your eyes.
“And you can’t handle that?” Your voice is filled with sarcasm, but for once he doesn’t focus on that.
“It’s not that simple.”
“Then make it simple, Mr. Barnes.”
“I... I don’t know how to do this.”
“Do what?”
“Deal with this... with you.”
“Deal with me?” You puff. “You’re insufferable, I am the one who has to deal with you and your constant checkups. With your: that’s not good enough, that needs to be changed, do this, do that over and over again.” You mimic his patronizing tone. “You don’t give me real suggestions-”
“I just... struggle with change.”
“And I’m the change you can’t handle?” The question hangs heavy between you, and his eyes drop to your lips this time.
“You challenge me,” he admits, his voice barely above the whisper. “You and your crazy ambition, your undying dedication, and your incredible ideas...” He pauses just to take a deep breath. “I feel like I’m suffocating every time I look at you.”
“Suffocating?” You roll your eyes. “How am I suffocating you? Just because I have an opinion and give you arguments-”
“I am fucking attracted to you, woman!”
You shake your head. He cannot just pull this lie and expect you to fall for it as if you are dumb. “Yeah, sure. Can you be a man for once and fucking take responsibility for your real thoughts and feelings? Just admit that you hate me!”
“Jesus Christ, are you that blind? For a woman so perceptive, you surely don’t see what’s right in front of you.”
You feel the anger take over your whole body. “Fuck you!”
“I wish! This is the whole point, the whole fucking point...”
“You want to fuck me for real?” You gasp, surprised and take a step back so you can look at him properly. He doesn’t seem to be joking.
“Deadly serious. And no matter how many times I tried to push this desire away, it just doesn’t work. You suffocate me. I imagine taking you all over my desk and couch. I imagine so many things, and I cannot focus.”
Before you can stop yourself, you slap him on the face lightly. Your palm is itching and gets red instantly, but you don’t care. As much as the info makes you happy, the context makes you super angry.
“So my team and I had to be humiliated just because you’re mad you want to get laid?”
“W-what? No!”
“No?”
“No. I deserved that,” he says referring to the slap. “But I meant what I said earlier. These are separate things.”
You cover your face with both your hands, not knowing what to say. What can you say? What should you think?
“I am sorry,” he sighs, and you hear him slowly walking away from you. “I should have said nothing. I am sorry. Please, don’t quit. You won’t have to work with me or even see me after this. Steve can take over, and you like him. I apologize not only for this, but also for my lack of… skills. I should have been more open to your ideas. And about tonight, I will wait for the HR email. I am sorry once again.”
Your head is spinning with all the things he’s just said. He wants you, but he’s also a bitch who cannot handle other opinions.
But you also want him. And you’ve wanted him despite how annoying he was. And he’s genuinely apologizing.
“Fuck it,” you whisper before going straight to him, pulling him by his tie toward you to kiss him.
He doesn’t hesitate at all, bringing his hands to your ass so you can feel each other better as he deepens the kiss instantly.
You shamelessly try to thrust your hips up a little as you let go of his tie, and his tongue feels like heaven in your mouth. His moan is low and hot, but you don’t let him breathe more than a second before you kiss him again, making sure to grab his hair and pull with force.
“Fuck me, Barnes. Fuck me right fucking now.”
He groans in your mouth once again, and you shiver.
“Jesus Christ, I’m gonna fuck you so well you won’t remember or think about anything else but my cock for days.” You instantly drop your hands so you can reach for his pants. Unbuckling them isn’t hard, but the zipper gets a little stuck, so Bucky has to finish the job for you.
“God, James,” you moan at the sight. “You’re leaking.”
He’s not embarrassed by this at all. On the opposite, he grabs his briefs too and pulls them down, letting them fall along with his pants.
You’re staring, but you can’t help it. His cock is so hard, and it even twitches as he grabs it to show it to you. It’s so thick.
“For you. This is all for you.”
Without waiting for a response, he suddenly grabs your shirt by the front placket and rips it in two. The buttons fly everywhere, one almost hits him in the face, but you don’t care. You’ve never been more turned on in your life. He’s so hot!
“Oh god, James,” you whisper, unclasping your bra before he can destroy it. It’s your best one, and you still need it.
“Yes,” he groans at the sight of your breasts, but you cannot ignore the wave of self-doubt that takes over you. They’re a little bigger than they should be for your height, so the sight is not the prettiest, in your opinion. This has always been an insecurity of yours, and even more after your last boyfriend made sure to emphasize this before you broke up. But Bucky seems fascinated. With his eyes glued to them and his mouth semi-open, he leans in, bringing his hands to both of your breasts before cupping them. You get goosebumps as he folds them eagerly, and you hear him groan when they spill over as soon as he tries to pull them together.
“James!”
But it’s like he can’t hear you, too engrossed in watching your nipples hardening even more, and before you tell him what you wanted to, you feel his wet mouth sucking in one of your nipples.
You’re taken aback, so he uses his gloved hand to make you stop moving by placing it on your waist firmly.
He’s suckling at this point, making low whimpers as he’s looking at you.
You swear you never saw a more beautiful man in your whole life. His blue eyes are hypnotic.
“F-fuck,” you curse, bringing your fingers to his hair. You need to grab something before you fall.
He switches to the other nipple, and you feel yourself throbbing. You need his cock so much. You need his mouth... you need him to make you come. And you want to do the same to him. He’s driving you crazy.
“F-fuck me! RIGHT NOW.” You’re screaming, but he’s not surprised, rather amused as he takes his mouth off your breasts with a pop.
“Easy there, you sound quite desperate,” he giggles as if he’s just made the funniest joke ever. You are desperate.
“Fuck me or I’ll finish myself off, and you won’t be able to touch me as I do. Your choice.”
You know he doesn’t like or do ultimata, but you have no alternative. You crave to be taken on his desk as hard as he can go.
“How can I fuck you if you still have your pants on?” He asks you extremely calmly, and you’re shocked. You expected a more... intense reaction. “Earth to you?” He waves his hand when he sees you zoning out.
“You didn’t take them off.”
“I don’t take your clothes off, love.” He smirks. “I rip them, so if you want them intact, you better do it yourself.”
You nod, enjoying how raspy his voice is, and take them off without looking away from his cock. Not that he could stop staring at your breasts. His eyes are glued to your nipples. Your underwear falls, and only when you step out of the pool of clothes and finally free your legs from the high heels, he brings his hand to your pussy.
“Oh God, look at this… drenched!”
You moan, moving a little into his palm as if you’re trying to ride it. You need him so badly.
“James-”
“I know.” He smiles, spreading your lips more. “I know. So needy, my poor baby needs her cock so she can relax.”
You whimper loudly as you close your eyes. “Take me, sir. Make me your little fuck toy. Take out your frustrations. You can... you can show me how I was wrong for quitting by fucking me until I feel your cock every time I walk. I need to,” you moan again as you keep grinding onto his hand. “Come on! Show me!”
Bucky’s eyes get so grey as he suddenly pulls his hand away, making you whine. You’re about to curse him, but what he does makes you stop. He starts to take off his tie quickly, and you smile.
“Good boy.”
That remark makes his snort, and he cryptically replies:
“Ah, ah, we’ll see about that later.”
“Take off that shirt faster, and your glove, too.”
That surprises him, his eyes immediately widening, so you decide to do it yourself since he’s not fast enough.
He freezes as soon as you pull off his glove, revealing a black with golden accents prosthetic hand.
“This is so fucking pretty, oh my God! Why do you keep this hidden?” You turn his hand around, and you gasp, realizing what you’ve just said. “I am sorry if I seem insensitive, it’s just that...”
Bucky snorts, amused, not hurt, which makes you feel like you can breathe again. The last thing you wanted was to bother him.
“You got a kink for my arm now?”
“You talk too much,” you murmur at the same time you start to unbutton his shirt as quickly as you can. Your hands are trembling.
When he’s finally naked, you let out a whimper, instantly reaching to touch his chest with both of your hands.
“You shave,” you say, surprised.
“Come on, love.” He smiles. “Touch my arm while you still can.”
You don’t question what he means by that, not wanting to worry too much. You expected this to be a one-time thing anyway, so you better enjoy every second of it. The arm is seamlessly integrated into his shoulder, and it's colder than the rest of his skin.
You trace a gold pattern all the way from his shoulder to his hand.
“I have a kink now,” you giggle when you see the sides of his neck getting pink.
“Well, I hope you have this kink, too, because…” He doesn’t finish his sentence. Instead, he reaches for the tie he had on today and smiles. “Turn around and put your hands behind your back.”
“W-what?”
“Hands behind your back.”
“You want to tie my hands?” You ask, taken aback by his demand.
“Did you try it before? Do you hate it?”
No, you didn’t try, but it doesn’t sound bad, surprisingly.
You usually hate not being in control, but it’s Bucky, and as annoying as he might be as your boss, you trust him. Plus, you quit after all, you should enjoy this as much as possible. The thought of him tying you up is really sexy for some reason, so you simply turn around and bring your hands together above your ass.
He doesn’t hesitate and quickly makes a knot.
“Too tight?”
“No,” you whisper. It’s not tight at all.
“You can tell me to stop any time, okay?” He wraps his hands around your waist and turns you toward him. “I’ll stop immediately.”
You nod, trying to get used to not being able to raise your hands.
“Words, please.”
“Yes, James.”
“Good girl.”
You’d lie if you said it doesn’t turn you on like crazy. You’ve been indirectly fighting with him for so long without getting any kind of approval or praise for your work. He made you angry and stressed more times than you could count, but you still respected him. You wanted his approval and you craved him...
You got yourself off thinking about him, you imagined choking him out of anger, but then it turning into a completely different thing. And it feels surreal this is actually happening, and he finally calls you a good girl.
“Are you clean? Anything-”
“I always used a condom, and I do checkups every six months. I assume the same about you.”
You nod, not bothering to tell him you don’t remember the last time you had sex, all thanks to him and his impossible to please ass.
“Do you have a condom?” You ask, moving closer to him again.
“In the car,” he curses, but before you can tell him that you can try without one since you are on the pill, he speaks again. “Wait!”
You giggle as you watch him run out of the office with his ass wiggling. No way he goes to his car naked, right?
You jump on top of his desk, pushing a few docs on the floor with your knee. It’s quite difficult because your hands are tied, but you don’t mind. You wait excitedly for his return just to tease him, but you’re speechless as soon as you see him unwrapping the condom package with his teeth before he quickly rolls it on.
“Won’t the neighbor mind?”
“What he doesn’t know,” he grabs your legs as he speaks. “Won’t hurt him. You’re not gonna run your mouth now, are you?” There is something about his patronizing tone that makes you hornier. Maybe because you know you’ve been on his mind so much he couldn’t focus on anything else.
“Why? You want to keep my mouth occupied with your cock?”
You don’t expect to be turned around on the table instead, with your ass in the air. Holy fuck!
“How about I keep this pretty wet pussy of yours occupied, hmm?”
You close your eyes when you feel his cock at your entrance before he finally pushes in.
He’s crazy, he must be crazy if he thinks you can take all of his cock like this.
“B-Bucky!” You arch your back without realizing, fighting against the material of his tie so you can get free. The impulse to touch his back is absolutely overwhelming, and the coldness of his left hand drives you crazy.
“What happened?” His other hand goes up until it’s in your hair. “You got nothing else to say? Are you already cock drunk?”
“More!” you whimper. “I can take more of you, please.”
“Ah? So greedy for my cock.”
“Need it deeper, James. Need you to move faster.”
You don’t care how desperate your voice is or if you’re pathetic. “I just wanna be stretched open until I cry. P-please.”
You don’t realize he is holding his breath until you hear him exhaling loudly against your back before kissing the same spot.
“You wanna be fucked like you’re my good little toy, baby? You want-”
He stops speaking when you moan, trying to move your hands so you can touch him and push him deeper inside you by grabbing his ass.
That hot ass…
“Want you, sir. Please, make me a mess.”
And he does. He fucks you harder, making your eyes roll back, and you can’t help but try again to touch him.
“Just like that,” you cry out when your face hits the desk more forcefully than before. You can sense Bucky’s hesitation so you shake your head. “I’m fine, I’m... k-keep going.”
He doesn’t stop, he even goes faster yet somehow deeper than before, a combination you’re not used to, that makes you feel like he’s splitting you in half. Neither of you can properly talk anymore. You can hear him cursing and saying your name along with: your pussy’s drowning me, so wet, think you can t-take it harder, but there is a long break after every word so he can thrust back inside you. You can’t even call him James, your voice is so hoarse, and he’s so deep you cannot even breathe.
You don’t need anything more the second he pulls your hair harder than you’d ever expect. Before you know what’s happening, the pleasure explodes inside you, making you scream. You don’t even realize that’s your voice at first, too focused on trying to prolong this feeling as you push your ass back frustrated you cannot grab his thighs, while he keeps thrusting inside you. His balls hit your clit, and you moan, a little sensitive.
“Sir, please, c-come,” you whisper, turning your head to the side on the desk. “Come for your little fuck toy. U-use me.”
You flinch, shocked, when you feel a light slap on your ass all of a sudden, but it doesn’t hurt at all. Quite the opposite. You don’t have time to say something about it, though, because Bucky’s already burying himself inside you again as deep as he can, and you moan at the same time he does.
“J-James...”
He pulls your hair even harder while he comes, groaning your name and a low fuck, that almost makes you giggle.
“Jesus...” It’s the only warning you get before you feel his chest on your back.
“Barnes, you’re heavy!”
His laugh is adorable, but he’s indeed heavy, plus you also have your hands tied. When he finally moves, you hop off the desk, almost falling since your knees are weak. Now you can feel your thighs aching too. But it was all worth it.
Quickly, Bucky unties you, without saying a word, which only makes you more nervous.
“Thanks,” you whisper as you turn around to face him. Then, you watch him take off the condom and place it on top of one of the papers you knocked over with your knee earlier.
After wiping his hands on his thighs, he grabs your wrists gently, making you almost moan at the feel of his cold hand. You’re not hurt, but they’re quite red, probably from the times you tried to get free.
“Gonna buy some cream.”
You shake your head. “No need, I am sure I have something for this.” You try to sound as casual as you can, not wanting to be clingy in his eyes even after you quit. Even after this. “Can you hand me my underwear and pants, please?”
Bucky freezes for a second, but he still gives them to you. “Are you back to hating me?”
“What?” You ask as you start to get dressed. You don’t have the blouse, but your coat is warm. You won’t freeze.
“Why are you so cold now? Did I hurt you? Did I do anything wrong?” His concerned voice and look surprise you. You know he is nice, but you didn’t expect him to be attentive after.
“No, you didn’t. I assumed this is,” you wave around when you finish zipping up your pants. “Just wham, bam, thank you ma’am.”
He doesn’t laugh.
“I told you, you’ve been on my mind for so long. Why would I... and even if it was just a one-time thing, why would I treat you like trash? Especially since we work together.”
“Worked,” you correct him before he hands you his shirt. You raise your eyebrow surprised.
“I’m not gonna help you get dressed, Barnes. You’re a big boy.”
“Put it on, it’s freezing.”
“I have my coat,” you protest, but he won’t take no for an answer, and you know it.
“On.”
“Fine!”
He helps you with it since your hands are, for some reason, still shaking. “Look, I was gonna invite you over to my place, but if I make you feel uncomfortable, or if you don’t want to see me...”
You can’t help but raise your eyebrows.
“Really?”
“We have some things to discuss, and I have a bath to run for you.”
You roll your eyes, fighting the urge to smile as he finishes buttoning the shirt. “You want me to sign a contract to fuck you again?”
“Ha, ha. No.” He leans in a bit to kiss your forehead. “We have many things to talk about that don’t involve a contract.”
“Yeah? Like what?” You start to collect the documents from the floor. “The process of writing my resignation letter?”
You hear Bucky puff behind you. “You’re not quitting.”
“No?” You bite your lip as you look at him. “Who’s gonna stop me?”
“Me.”
“Hmm,” you whisper playfully before placing his papers on the desk. “How?”
“Let’s get home and we’ll see about that.”
#bucky barnes#bucky barnes smut#bucky barnes fanfic#boss!bucky barnes#boss!bucky#ceo!bucky barnes#ceo!bucky#rich!bucky barnes#bucky barnes fanfiction#bucky barnes x reader#bucky barnes au#bucky barnes x y/n#bucky barnes x you#bucky barnes x reader smut#sebastian stan#marvel#marvel fanfic#marvel fanfiction
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ctrl-alt-del | jjk (teaser)
summary⇢ you graduated bright-eyed and bushy-tailed, but, to your extreme disappointment, your big girl job isn't turning out to be nearly as exciting as you thought it would be. still, you're holding out hope that your talents will soon be recognized and your coworkers will stop trying to include you in their gossip sessions. enter jungkook, the quiet IT guy who's gradually making your days more bearable. (and if you find him easy on the eyes, that's nobody's business but yours.)
pairing⇢ jungkook/reader
teaser word count⇢ 1.4k
genre⇢ smut | humor | office!au
warnings⇢ nothing too bad for this teaser! just a mention of oral
a/n⇢this fic has literally been sitting in my wips for YEARS lmao. i feel like it's finally time to set it free 🕊️✨ it's looking like it's gonna lean more towards pwp, but there's definitely still enough plot in there to keep it interesting. not sure when it will be up, but wanted to share a snippet to get your thoughts and get myself excited to finish the last leg--fingers crossed for the next month or so 🤞🏾🙌🏾💜
When you graduated top of your class with a marketing degree and a job already lined up, you weren’t big-headed to assume you would be given a lot in the beginning. No, you knew that you were the new kid on the block and needed to prove yourself first, needed to work your way up from the bottom. But what you definitely didn’t anticipate was working up from thefigurative trenches, almost exclusively doing busywork—constantly making coffee runs, catering business lunches, printing out endless spreadsheets.
Eighty-thousand dollars in debt, and you are a glorified intern.
You’re positively itching to hit the ground running and get your hands dirty, your job isn’t too bad. The people there are all nice and welcoming, the complimentary coffee in the break room is decent enough for your dwindling bank account, and every couple of weeks, the company sponsors an employee barbecue were everyone can fraternize and enjoy free food.
“Apparently it fosters unity and teamwork,” your coworker Joy informs you as you both stand in the food line. “Seokjin—that’s our CEO—is really big on unity and teamwork.”
Joy is also a member of your marketing team. Though as sweet as can be, she has no filter, and thus always has a lot to say about everything—which has helped you when it comes to learning the ropes about the company, but has also had you clutching your imaginary pearls in some situations where you found it inappropriate. Despite only being a year older than you, her title of Marketing Associate (instead of your measly Assistant)means that she technically outranks you, though she doesn’t usually enforce that fact (unless there was something that needed to be copied or filed, of course). Still, she immediately took you under her wing when you first started, and she is the closest person to a friend you have at work (even though her daily coffee order is always so ridiculous, you are convinced that she has to be fucking with you—or at least engaging in some form of mild hazing.).
“I think it’s nice,” you reply. “I’ll never say no to free food, and they let us out early and everything.”
“I mean, pretty sure you can get the hotdogs twelve in a pack at the dollar store,” Joy quips, raising her eyebrows at you pointedly. “But sometimes the boys from Sales take their shirts off and play soccer, so there’s that.”
Your eyes dart to said Sales boys against your will, gaze drawn to Jung Hoseok as he chats animatedly with his teammates by the tables. You’ve only spoken to him once or twice, but his fiery red hair and even brighter smile caught your attention immediately, your heart rate accelerating at the sight of him in hallways mere days into starting your new position. Who better to have a mild work crush on than a sweet-talking salesman who winks at you sometimes in passing?
An appreciative noise has you turning back around, embarrassed at being caught ogling how shapely Hoseok’s butt looks in his dress pants today, but it’s just Wendy from accounting, Joy’s best friend and thus a harmless, familiar face. Wendy has cut in front of a few editors to join you and Joy, and the way that she smiles at you lets you know she’s up to no good. “He’s cute, huh?” she asks, leaning towards you conspiratorially. “I would definitely give him the good ol’ suck behind the dumpsters over there, if you catch my drift.”
“Err…yeah, I do,” you reply awkwardly. She had been explicitly clear—keyword explicit—so there definitely isn’t any room for misunderstandings. Is this truly appropriate work function conversation? From the way the editors behind you are politely clearing their throats, you think not.
“Behind the dumpster?” Joy asks curiously. “He’s standing right next to some sturdy tables that I, for one, would take great advantage of—”
“I’m gonna go get us some drinks,” you announce loudly, your neck heating up. “Can you grab me a hot dog, Joy?”
“Sure,” she says dismissively, already distracted by her sudden debate with Wendy about the most convenient place to suck off salesman Jung.
The whole conversation is making you uncomfortable. You are not a prude—far from it—but there is a time and place for everything, and your coworkers’ blasé attitude towards speaking about inappropriate topics at company functions on company time rattles you a bit. So instead of engaging in the risqué discussion further, you make your way to the cluster of brightly-colored coolers that presumably hold beverages, sidling up to the only other person lingering the area.
“Anything good?” you ask cordially, making your coworker, who had apparently been deep in thought while considering his beverage options, startle a bit.
He’s tall, his large frame covered in the appropriate business casual attire of nice jeans and a powder-blue buttonup. When he turns his head to look at you, you’re met with large, dark eyes blinking in surprise from behind wire-rimmed glasses. Said eyes dart around for a moment before determining that you were, in fact, speaking to him.
The man clears his throat. “Just the usual,” he says, voice soft. Timid.
“The usual?” you repeat. There are little hoops dangling from his earlobes, and you brush off your surprise at seeing them, returning your gaze to the coolers. Water, a clear soda, a cola. “The basics, you mean. Well, can’t really complain, right? Seeing as it’s all free. I think it’s really nice of them.”
Your companion seems surprised at your words. “It is,” he agrees softly, eyes meeting yours for a second before dropping back down to the cooler. “Um, are you...are you new?”
“Damn, I guess my cover’s blown.” You shoot him a wry smile. “Yeah, I just started a couple of weeks ago. What gave it away?”
“It’s just—no one else here really cares about these barbecues anymore,” he admits, looking at you, but not quite. More like, in your direction. “Everyone has forgotten to appreciate the little things.”
“Nothing is a given,” you shrug. “So you need to appreciate things when you can. And besides, those lots of little things can really add up without you realizing it.”
He finally seems to look at you properly, and the weight of his large, gentle brown eyes throws you off for a second. “They can,” he agrees, lips slowly drifting up.
“What do we have over here?” a loud voice interrupts, a hand falling to your shoulder. You look up, and are met with the brightness of salesman Jung.
“Ah,” Hoseok says with a wink, reaching into the cooler. “I love Sprite.”
“Me too,” you reply automatically, and then immediately want to smack yourself. Because you don’t—carbonated beverages make you break out. But your mouth had formed the lie without your permission.
Embarrassed, you reach into the cooler, grabbing three water bottles. “See you later,” you squeak, avoiding eye contact as you make your escape.
Joy and Wendy are already watching you when you return to where they have procured a table, and when you hand them their waters, Joy raises an eyebrow. “I was wondering how long you were going to talk to that IT guy.”
“Yeah, and why did you leave when Hoseok showed up?” Wendy pouted. “_____, the universe is only going to give you so many opportunities. If you don’t want the ball, then pass it to me! Goddamn.”
“IT guy?” you ask, hoping to slide past that last remark.
“Yeah. His name is Jungkook, I think? Mostly works with the printers, started a couple months ago.” Joy shrugs, obviously disinterested by the topic. She reaches for the ketchup bottle in the center of the table and squirts some on her hot dog. “This is the first time I’ve seen him at a barbecue, though. Honestly, I’m surprised he even came out, because the IT dudes generally keep to themselves. The rarely leave their little tower,” she adds with a dismissive wave.
Wendy scoffs. “Who cares about Jeremy! Hurry up and eat, I’m sure Sales is gonna start their soccer game soon.”
“Soccer game?” you ask.
“The sales department likes to play soccer during these things,” Joy informs you. Her expression brightens. “Hey, maybe Hoseok will take his shirt off again! Let us pray.”
To your coworkers’ disappointment, Hoseok did not take his shirt off. But they certainly had a good time watching him run back and forth across the grass.
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lace & luxury | kim taehyung
summary: Money, Money, Money, must be funny in the rich man’s world. At least that’s how you feel working day and night to make end’s meet and still never having enough. Out of nowhere you get roped into a give and take relationship with a very powerful fashion designer who shows you the way into a life of luxury and lingerie. You’ve become his muse and in exchange he’s become your source of pleasure and riches. It’s a rich man’s world and you’re living in it.
➣ genre/au: sugar daddy!taehyung x exotic dancer!reader [she/her, female anatomy], taehyung aged up
➣ 13.6k words
warnings: smut. tae is 31 oc is 21. a lot of teasing. mention of NDAs. he’s a bit cold to everyone else. oc is an exotic dancer. oc dances on Tae a couple times. Tae adores oc. lavishes in gifts. protected sëx. oc is confident af. oc has belly button piercing. Tae is very handsy. jk and Hobi are oc’s besties so a lot of locker room talk between the three. oral [f receiving].m. multiple positions. missionary. mating press. and riding. an open ending but also I feel like y’all know what’s gonna happen
THE BILLIONAIRE’S CLUB
Money does not buy happiness.
Money does not buy happiness.
Money does not bu—
“Fucking hell,” you groaned in annoyance as you hit the machine in front of you. The vending machine seemed to mock you with its silence even as you pushed the button for your drink a dozen times. There was a clear sign above that said not to hit the machine yet here you were beating the shit out of it with your foot.
Three dollars. It just took three dollars and refused to give you your drink. What a fucking con.
Money doesn’t buy happiness but you know that if you had that nice and refrigerated fizzy drink right now you would be at least .05% happier than you are now. With a defeated sigh you gave the vending machine one final ‘fuck you’ and left. Listen, you’re not a moody person [not usually] but you’re stressed, broke, and hungry… and now annoyed.
“You’re stressing over a drink or three dollars? I can’t tell,” Jungkook asked you as you stood at the entrance to work still thinking about earlier, “Go get a drink from Hobi and once you get on stage you’ll make more than 3$ quickly. No biggie.”
“It’s about the morals, Kook,” you sighed, “In this country even the vending machines are capitalists, taking money from the poor and not giving us anything in return.”
“It’s fine, you take money from horny rich people, speaking of which if you don’t go get ready, boss will throw a fit,” Jungkook said, pushing you forward and cutting your talk short. You whined in frustration as you did as told and headed to the dressing room.
You were a bit dramatic, you know you were. It was just three dollars but damn did that piss you off. You haven’t eaten a single thing since you were working a full day waitressing and now you’ve got to get on stage and dance on an empty stomach. You just paid rent and your stupid student debt bills and now you’re very broke. After tonight you’ll surely have way more money but it doesn’t change the fact that this is a common problem you have.
During the day you waitress and at night you dance at an exotic club where the clients treat you like some dress-up doll they touch whenever they want and stuff crumpled dollar bills in your lingerie because they think it’s sexy. You loved to dance, that was not the problem, it was the people you danced for and why you did it. If you had the money to finish off school you would have a degree by now in fashion marketing but instead you’re stuck with two jobs struggling to pay off loans and reach ends meet. It was exhausting.
“I heard about your drink dilemma,” Hoseok said apologetically as you got to the bar already dressed in lingerie waiting for your cue. He handed you a glass meant for whiskey filled with the fizziness of caffeine and you thanked him profusely before chugging it down.
“But if it makes you feel better, a group of very wealthy looking young men just walked into V.I.P,” he added. You released a content sight as you handed him the empty glass, “I’m not in the mood to be groped tonight.”
“So just the stage? Got it,” he said and you gave him a soft smile as you heard your stage name be called and you left.
“You need to loosen up, get some inspiration even,” Jimin said with a chuckle as he led Taehyung by the shoulders into the red night club. He’ll admit it’s above his expectations but at the end of the day — or night — it’s still an exotic club with women in lingerie unlike he’s ever seen. He should be used to it by now but he’s not. He’s too stressed to even enjoy whatever his friends had planned for him tonight.
“How about that one?” Jimin asked pointing to a dancer who was currently sitting on the lap of an older man wearing the ugliest Rolex watch Taehyung has ever seen. He just shook his head and kept his gaze forward as they went to a V.I.P section close to the stage.
Here’s the thing, Taehyung is new to all of this but at the same time he isn’t. Being the eldest grandson of the one and only original creator of the luxurious lingerie brand, Erotes: Sexy, Sensual, & Surreal, you would think he’s more used to this by now and he is. He’s used to the designs and fashion shows that his grandmother and mother would put on but to be the one in charge of it all now? That’s an entirely different ball game and he’s failing miserably to come up with something for the spring catalog. In truth, his younger sister should have been the one to take over but unfortunately that wasn’t the case and now they’re both unhappy with the outcome. He’s 31, he’s thankful to be able to get in the position he’s in at the head of his own empire but he’s just struggling. How is he supposed to find inspiration to follow their footsteps?
“Next up is the loveliest of them all, Venus, with her sensual movements you’ll have no choice but to fall to your knees, worshiping her like the goddess she is.”
You nearly gagged on stage at your intro as the lights went black and you stood at the center of the stage ready to walk forward when the song started. To clarify, you didn’t choose the stage name.
Some bottle girls brought expensive liquor to their section but Taehyung wasn’t paying attention anymore. He’s not sure when he tuned out how the night was going until you came out on stage. It wasn’t your introduction that drew him in but it was the sudden shift in the air that made him take in what was going on. The lights had gone off with only a red and blue hall above your head and it was the first time he took notice in one of the dancer’s he’s seen tonight.
He didn’t know where to look first, his eyes went from your feet which were in tall crystal heels to the length of your smooth legs before stopping at the first hint of lingerie he could see. You wore baby pink panties under a sheer babydoll dress and you looked simple yet elegant, like the stage was where you belonged. Your hand trailed up from your thigh to your stomach lifting the frill fabric for anyone’s watching eyes and he watched you dance, entranced for the first time tonight.
The lingerie was cute, it was simple and appealing to the eye but it wasn’t for you. He could see it in your strong gaze, this wasn’t right for you. You should be in a dark color that matched your strong presence and the desire you brought upon whoever watched you. You needed something that showed more, less concealing. He can picture you in a garter belt, pearls around your neck maybe…
The way you moved seemed to captivate every single person in the room and Taehyung especially.
By the end of your performance Taehyung watched you walk off stage and it’s the same confidence you put formed and the energy immediately changed when you were gone. He hadn’t realized how focused he was on your dance until he released the breath he had been holding in.
“Getting inspo yet?” Jimin joked as he snapped Taehyung out of his trance with a pat on his leg.
When Taehyung first took over Erotes, everyone expected a lot of changes. The company went from being owned by generations of women to now the first man in charge and not a lot were comfortable considering the lingerie was specifically for women and those others who would choose to wear it—very clearly not Taehyung. He knew he would face a lot of challenges and that’s what’s happening right now.
He wants to create a line of lingerie that the wearers [whoever that maybe, biologically female or not] would feel comfortable in. He doesn’t want to make it simply for the male gaze, he wants the wearer to feel comfortable and sexy and proud of their body. It probably isn’t much help that the person who had suddenly inspired him to create is an exotic dancer but something about you just caught his attention.
He’s solely looking at you from a designer’s point of view and he’s picturing that some of the company’s target audience would be people like you. Of course he’s going to create pieces for those who would just like to feel sexy at home or under their work clothes, but he needs to find inspiration first.
That is the sole reason why he went back to the gentlemen's club a couple nights later all by himself. The atmosphere seemed to fit what he was looking for too and he just needed to be in the element and in the presence of someone he considers sexy.
By the time he arrived it was late and since it was a weekday there weren’t that many people there. Business was good, just not as busy as on weekends but it worked in his favor. When he asked for a private dance they directed him to a red room where all he had to do was wait patiently for you to come in.
To be honest, you were a bit annoyed to do the private dance. Usually the ones who request are young arrogant men who don’t pay enough for what they get and if that wasn’t the client then it was typically some old ass dirty sleazebag who needs Viagra to keep it up. You definitely weren’t expecting for a man who looked like a God to be sitting there on the red velvet couch, dressed in a Dolce & Gabbana suit and had sandy blonde hair. He looked arrogant but for a reason, look at him. He was lounging comfortably on the seat with his arms stretched out on the back of the couch holding a glass of whiskey. His legs were spread in a manly way and his shoes shined even in the darkness.
You didn’t say anything when you walked in but the silk robe you wore simply slipped off your shoulders as the music began and exposed your lingerie to his hungry eyes. He raised his glass to his lips as he watched you let it fall to the floor and saunter over to him. You fell to your knees before him and your manicured hands skimmed over his thighs making his legs open just a little more to make room for you. Neither of you have spoken but for the moment it didn’t feel like you needed to.
The room was a little foggy too but Taehyung could see you very clearly as you pushed up against his thighs until you were standing back up and his eyes locked on yours when you swung a leg over his lap and swayed to the music. His fingers twitched with the urge to touch but he kept himself composed as he asked, “What’s your name?”
“Venus,” you used your stage name for obvious reasons as you situated yourself on his lap. Taehyung wasn’t aware of his moving hand until he was just inches away from touching your waist when you grabbed it and pressed it into the couch. Your breasts pushed against his chest as your fingers locked with his and you whispered into her ear, “You can look but don’t touch.”
“Got it,” he said breathlessly and he really did understand. He knew the rules and honestly he was unaware of what his hand was trying to touch until you called him out on it. He watched you closely as you arched your spine back and his eyes caught on the shiny reflection of your belly button ring and he hated to admit he’s a lot more turned on than he thought he would be.
He honestly was just interested in seeing what you wore tonight but he couldn’t even think about that right now when your body looked so appetizing to him. “Have you ever modeled before?”
You had your back to him now as he watched you bend forward and present yourself to him and once again he had to stop himself from reaching out and touching when you showed off your flexibility. You gave him a simple response as your hand came to the back of his neck and your back pressed against his chest to grind on his lap, “No.”
“Would you want to?” He asked in a whisper when you pulled on his neck tie harshly. His suit would have wrinkles now but he does not mind one bit. You laughed softly and he even liked the sound of that more than the music, “No.”
“I’ll pay you for it.”
“You’re paying for this, isn’t that enough?” You asked with your face just an inch away from his that he could feel the heat run between you.
“It’s far more than enough and yet I still want so much more, Venus, I think you would be a perfect model for me,” Taehyung said honestly, “Since the first time I saw you I wanted to see you in my designs.”
“And here I thought you wanted a dance because you found me attractive,” you teased. He was a client of the club and you should just treat him as such but he’s very attractive and he listened to you when you told him not to touch. Most men would still try and catch a feel even after being warned.
Taehyung released a breathy laugh, “Oh I find you absolutely irresistible but I’m sure that’s not something you don’t hear on a regular basis. I think you know your effect on others especially when you dance like this.”
You smiled, content enough that this God of a man found you irresistible, “What kind of model?”
“Lingerie, a boudoir shoot if you will,” Taehyung said but you wanted to play a little longer and his time was almost up.
“Not interested,” you said seductively and though your rejection stung, the way you said it made his growing arousal all the more prominent.
When his time was up he paid for the 140$ fee for a private dance and when he was ready to tip you and give you the money you let him slip it into the waistband of your panties and with that he left. You took out the money, surprised to count a total of 800$ just for you.
“I’ve never wished I had a pussy before in my life.”
You and Hoseok looked at Jungkook completely speechless as the three of you stood around the ivory box that was delivered to the club. It was from your client the other night and when you told Jungkook that he seemed annoyed.
One, he was mad you got tipped so much for a simple dance and second, that you just got a custom lingerie set designed specifically for you by a billionaire. You only know this because he left the Erotes business card there along with a couple hundred more with a note that said, ‘If you’re interested, come visit me.”
“I smell Sugar Daddy in the air,” Hobi finally said after the long silence that followed an envious Jungkook. To be honest, none of you knew much about the company until Jungkook went ahead and searched it up only to find a picture of the man you danced on just a few nights ago tied to an article titled, ‘the newly appointed CEO of Erotes Lingerie, Kim Taehyung.’
They brought your box over from the club and being their nosy selves, they wanted to see what you got.
The two were at your shitty, run down apartment where the three of you have been talking shit about your main boss all day. There’s nothing specifically wrong with the guy other than the fact that’s he’s a fucking cunt who steals from his dancers and never cares for it a man gets too touchy unless Jungkook has to kick them to the curb. You were all just tired of him.
“Go see what he’s gotta say,” Jungkook said with a smirk, “I’ll even drive you there and if he offers you money just remember how supportive your bestie was.”
“Shut up,” you rolled your eyes, “Should I?”
That’s how you ended up in front of the skyscraper before you. Erotes was your typical gray building on the outside but there were hues of red lights basically oozing out of the window panes. It felt otherworldly and stepping inside felt like you were stepping into an Oasis on Mount Olympus. There were large statues of Greek gods and goddesses of love inside and the red and yellow lights seemed to set the mood in the corporate building. You walked right up to the front desk with absolutely no clue on what to say that you found yourself stuttering.
“Uh, um, can I speak to Kim Taehyung?” You immediately wanted to slap yourself for the way you just asked to see the CEO OF THE COMPANY and clearly the receptionist wanted to do the same considering she looked you up and down unimpressed before looking back to her computer. You waited for her to say something but after a minute or two she looked at you as if confused why you were still standing in front of her desk.
This time you couldn’t help but scoff at her rude behavior and reached into your purse for the card. You slid the business card across her desk and looking annoyed, she picked it up and looked it over. You smiled, “Now can I speak to Kim Taehyung?”
“Not if you don’t have an appointment,” she smiled tightly and you mirrored her expression. “So can you set an appointment then?”
“For what reason?”
“You can ask him when you set the appointment since he’s the one who told me to come here, or I can just leave and the next time I see him I can let him know how I tried to see him but I was refused,” you smiled and with a clenched jaw she finally picked up. You were bluffing because in truth you didn’t know if he would see you again or it he would just give up on whatever he’s trying to gain but it scared her enough to finally call whoever she needed to.
“What’s your name?”
“Venus,” you said, “That's all.” With another look at you from head to toe she muttered the name to the person on the phone and hung up shortly after. She flashed you another fake smile and said, “Alright follow me.”
You went up the elevator to the 100th floor which meant a long and uncomfortable ride with this snobby receptionist who kept glancing at you like she couldn’t understand why the man upstairs wanted to see you and in truth you weren’t sure either. His secretary gave you the same judging look as she knocked on Taehyung’s large office doors and honestly you didn’t get it.
It was clear you weren’t his girlfriend or anything so what was their deal? Unless he was just some rich guy already engaged or married and they knew you weren’t the wife… maybe you should check that, men are trash anyway—especially ones with a lot of money. When the receptionist left with Taehyung’s secretary you awkwardly stood in front of you as she typed away, “He’s in a meeting, go ahead and sit over there.”
With a small huff in annoyance you took a seat at one of the waiting chairs not far from the front desk. There was a stack of lingerie magazines but you didn’t bother going through them as you got on your phone instead to text your closest friends.
you: im too poor to be in here
hobi: did they check ur bank acc and see u only have 2.75$ in there?
you: fuck u
kook: is he wrong tho
you: no
you: anyway idk I’m getting bad vibes from the employees
hobi: ask if they’re libras and if they say yes you better run
kook: true. I don’t trust libras
“It was great seeing you again Tae, we need to get together for drinks like old times.”
You looked up for a split second to watch a beautiful tall blonde leave his office as he held the door open for her. She had sparkles in her eyes that made you want to gag at the thought of ever looking at a man like that. You visibly cringed and looked back down to your phone and waited until he was done.
you: oh god I’m scared. I’m about to go in
kook: remember that he’s just a man
hobi: ^ a very rich one who made u clothes for dancing on him
kook: yes that too
“I’ll have to see if it fits into my schedule,” Taehyung finally said back seemingly unmoved by her flirtatious smile and as he was out the door with her his eyes shifted to you making you look up. He didn’t send another glance her way as he asked, “Ready?”
You released a sigh as you finally got up from the chair and walked past the shocked blonde like you’ve been here before. Being a dancer meant you needed confidence — or at least pretend like you had it — so that’s how you acted most of the time. Also, he’s a member of the club and at the end of the day you’re still just an exotic dancer who doesn’t have a place in this building meeting with the CEO.
Taehyung is a little surprised at the sight of you. Well, for clarification, he had hoped you would take him up on his offer but he’s just surprised to see you outside of your normal dancing attire. It’s not that he expected to see you dressed provocatively out in public but… well you simply just looked pretty. You wore a plain long skirt that fit your body nicely and a plain fitted long sleeve and regular heels. Your hair was even pinned back in a cute way and it caught him off guard. He looked over to his secretary who was pretending not to watch as he held the door, turning the lock for privacy and following you in.
You looked around the space, his single office was bigger than a studio apartment. There was no need to have so much space especially if it was big enough to have an entire statue of aros. It was obnoxious, kind of. You could see Taehyung’s suit hanging on a hook and all he wore was a navy blue button up long sleeve tucked into black slacks and a belt. The sleeves were even rolled up and the tie seemed just a bit loose. He looked at you, “You received my gift already? I thought maybe you would get it tonight.”
“Someone brought it to me,” you told him as you stood behind his large glass coffee table, “Did you not want to see me?”
He released a small scoff, “On the contrary, it’s a pleasant surprise, I am curious to know what you think.”
“About the lingerie? Yeah, you designed it?” You asked. He nodded, “As you can see this is a lingerie company and I’m the new appointed CEO and designer. The only problem is that I can’t seem to find any inspiration for original and unique designs. I actually was made to go to the club and well that’s when I saw you and I’ll admit, you were very captivating and for some reason I was able to visualize you in a set.”
“Really?” You asked, genuinely surprised. You knew you were at least somewhat attractive but you didn’t think it was enough for someone to design something for you. He said it so confidently and professional like this was just some sort of business meeting for him and in truth this is not what you had in mind when he gave you his business card. You assumed he wanted to try and gain something with the lingerie like give him a private show. The only reason why you had come is because of how good of a tip he left you and why he gave you the gift.
“Yes, that’s why I would have liked it if you modeled for me,” Taehyung said as he rounded the table to get closer, “I mean you seem to wear lingerie confidently and from what I can see now is that you also seem confident in ordinary clothes—is that second hand?”
Your jaw nearly dropped as he read you like a book and you looked down, “Yes? How’d you know?”
Taehyung moved on instead of answering, “Did you bring the gift?”
“Yes.”
He looked around you like he would suddenly find the white box he sent his gift in but all he could see was you. So Taehyung couldn’t help but let his eyes run along the length of your body as he came to a realization and his eyes seemed to widen with peaked interest, “Is that so? Would you be willing to show me?”
A small smile to your face as you nodded, “Of course, I thought that was the whole reason why you wanted to see me.”
He watched as you began to strip your clothes from him right there in the middle of his office just letting the clothes fall. You made sure he was watching too and he couldn’t look away even if he wanted to. It was exactly how he pictured it would look. He found himself looking around as if the idea of having a woman undress in his office and looking damn good in it was a crime. Not necessarily a crime, but enough to raise questions but he sort of liked that. He locked the door so it’s not like his secretary can barge in and he doesn’t have any meetings till later.
“Well?” You asked completely undressed aside from the lingerie. It was a simple black bodysuit made of lace with embroidered leaf and vines that met over the valley of your breasts down to your navel where the lace didn’t wrap around. The only thing that kept the lace together were those vines down the middle. The straps were made of silk black ribbons that continued into the cups of your breasts where a clip rested in the middle to undo the top. It seemed plain but the lace had small shimmers of glitter that shined the same way your belly button piercing did. It hugged all your curves in the right places and you fit it so well.
Taehyung just nodded, assessing you with a tight lip smile, “Looks amazing.”
“The lingerie?” You questioned even if it was very clear he was talking about that. This man seemed strange to you. You knew people in the fashion world could be eccentric and creative but this was the first guy you’ve ever met more pleased by the lace you wore rather than the body that wore it. Taehyung’s gaze shifted to your face, “No. The wearer.”
He came up to you, finger lightly tracing the silk strap and sliding it under so it grazed your skin too. You tilted your head to the side, an innocent gaze in your eyes as you looked up at him, “Is that all you needed me for? To dress me up?”
Taehyung’s finger traced up toward the curve of your tilted neck and jaw not yet touching but you could feel the heat from it, “Not the only thing, but I’m too tempted to touch you right now and I know that’s off limits.”
“You’re not a guest of the club right now, are you?” You asked softly. Listen, you knew how to play the game. You knew exactly how you should act to have a man entranced and that’s how you get tipped so well. The amount of money he gave you the other night was enough to cover rent and if you had to find a way to make him tip you again, you will. There’s a reason you became a dancer.
“I’m not,” Taehyung softly said back to you, “So what now?”
“Now you sit,” you lightly pushed at his chest until he was walking backward toward the couch. There was no music playing so it felt a bit awkward for you still yet the second you moved closer to him, he took the initiative to guide you onto his lap as you said, “No music? How am I supposed to perform?”
You were teasing him a bit but he didn’t seem to mind as you straddled his lap, feeling his fingers trace along your ankles toward your thighs, hips, waist, and then linger along your rib cage. Taehyung was too busy looking at your body in his design to care for music, “Do we need it?”
He looked up just as you gave him a smile and said, “Without music it feels too close to sex.”
“Mm,” Taehyung hummed in response. You slowly began to move on his lap and now that he could touch he didn’t hold back. He was still gentle but his hands did come forward to graze your covered breasts before running down the exposed front. You also played with the collar of his navy blue button up, pulling on his tie slowly ready to stop if he wanted you to. “What’s your name?”
“Venu—“
“Your real name,” Taehyung said, feeling his breath hitch when you fully yanked his tie open and pulled him closer. You flashed him a smile that showed the whites of your teeth, “Do you really want to know?”
Taehyung couldn’t help but scoff with a small chuckle, “It’s only fair, you know my name is Kim Taehyung. Now can I know yours?”
“Y/n,” you said as you moved to get off his lap but his strong hand held you in place, not hard enough to feel like he’s forcing you, but enough to know he didn’t want you leaving. You made yourself comfortable once more running your hands up his shirt untucking it and making him look like a complete mess of a CEO. Taehyung just let you too, his hands did move up your rib cage until his thumbs pushed against your breasts but other than that he was letting you lead. Once again it’s like you’re back in the red room with him under you as you perform.
“Y/n,” he repeated as he guided your hips however you moved them. Taehyung will admit, he’s turned on by the whole thing but there’s just no way he couldn’t be, right? You’ve stripped down to what he designed for you, sitting pretty on his lap and he can’t help but want to get closer… it’s only natural.
“How old are you?” He asked.
“22,” you told him and you could see the surprise on his face but you already knew his age since your friends looked him up earlier and you found yourself saying, “But I like them a little older.”
Listen, you have rules as an exotic dancer and performer set for your safety and comfort specifically. You keep things professional when you’re at work and if you run into anyone outside of it you simply act oblivious. You very rarely visit any client unless booked for an event and usually you aren’t alone. You never let them get too touchy or personal yet here you are letting him in all because Taehyung was undeniably attractive and wealthy with some sort of interest in you.
Neither one of you seemed to notice the way you both leaned closer until your lips brushed against his suddenly. Taehyung did pull away as he whispered, “Model for me.”
“I don’t have time,” you whispered back, “I have two jobs.”
There was just a small hint of a kiss but it wasn’t long enough to be worth anything and he said, “I’ll pay better than both.”
You smiled and without much thought into what you were doing, you finally kissed him. Taehyung didn’t need any sort of push to be curling his fingers into your hair and kissing you back deeply. It was an intimate kiss, needy and wet. You had a limp hand on his chest nearly touching his tie and his free hand was down on your thigh. Just as your fingers began to slide toward the buttons of his shirt, a loud ringing cut into the room making you jump in surprise.
Just before you could pull away, Taehyung’s tongue licked along yours drawing a light sound out of you as he chose to ignore the ringing. You figured if he was ignoring it then you would too for the time being and soon enough it stopped.
You pulled away a few seconds later feeling out of breath and hot and he looked the way you felt. Shirt untucked. Tie undone. Hair a mess. Like swollen. Eyes hazy. Jesus, this stranger was beautiful and he didn’t even have to try. Looking down into his eyes it made you snap back into realization. You’ve never gotten so physical with a client before and he’s probably not even going to pay you because there’s no reason for him to, so you're wasting time here. It was cute and fun but it’s over and you should get dressed and move on, right?
Taehyung let you slide off his lap as the phone made you both realize where you were and he tried fixing his own appearance as much as possible. He kept his gaze down when you undressed — knowing the moment was over — for privacy but he couldn’t help but ask, “What’s the other job?”
“Waiting on tables,” you told him, slipping your long skirt back on. His brows furrowed, “Really?”
“Why? Is it a surprise?”
“A bit,” he said honestly as you both stood straight looking as organized as you could after what happened. You didn’t give much of a response then, only said, “Alright, I’ve got to go if I want to catch the bus.”
You were looking at the time on your phone not noticing as he left you for a moment only to come back with a checkbook. He didn’t say much as he quickly scribbled away and handed it to you. Your eyes met when he grabbed your hand and made you hold the check.
“This is for today,” Taehyung said, sounding a bit out of it, “Um… I’ve never done anything like this but…” he looked down at the check, “Maybe we can work something out between us. Beneficial to us both.”
You raised a brow as you looked at the number written down on the check, “How so?”
His thumb brushed some hair away from your face and without thinking he leaned further down until your lips never touched but didn’t move closer. You knew he was probably giving you the choice to decide if you want to do it or not and you reached up to kiss him. His hand was firm against your cheek and kept you in place as he pulled back and ran his tongue across his lower lip, “Like this.”
“Truthfully, I don’t have time to go out with someone and personally I don’t want to. I have a lot of work to do and being in a relationship is not something I want right now but,” Taehyung kissed you again when you didn’t pull back, “I want to be able to do this.”
You smiled, pulling back, “You can find any woman who would die to be with you even if it’s for one night.”
“I can,” Taehyung said in agreement, “But I want you. You won’t push me for a relationship, would you?”
“Obviously not.”
“Then let me spoil you with whatever you want and in exchange—“
“Let you have me?” You asked and he nodded his head.
Taehyung was attractive.
He was wealthy and respectful.
There is no doubt in your mind that every woman he comes across wants him yet…
For some reason he would rather have a give and take relationship with no ties and he only wants it with you. It might even free up a little bit of your time too. You finish one job only to go to another that very same night. You’ve been trying to pay off college debt and other things too so money always seemed to be an issue. You don’t mind dancing, you actually enjoy it and that’s where your friends were. You would have to cut back time at the restaurant—it seems like you’ve already made your decision.
“Give me your number then,” you said. It was a short contact information exchange and just as you reached the door with Taehyung behind you, there was a loud knock against it.
The second he opened it, your eyes fell to the secretary who worked right outside his office. You watched the way her eyes seemed to narrow as she found you back in your sweater and long skirt — completely unaware of what was underneath. Taehyung turned to you, “Let’s connect later tonight, I’ll give you a call. Miss Jia, please call a cab for my guest before telling me whatever was so urgent you had to interrupt us more than once.”
The secretary looked stunned before nodding her head and running back to the desk giving you one last dirty look.
As strange as this might sound, you had no idea what to expect the last time you had seen Mr. Kim. You understood what he had implied and in the moment you wanted the same but now as you’re reading over the contract he’s had printed out for you, it all was beginning a little too real. It wasn’t long but the words felt like they just went on forever and ever and he looked at you like he was waiting for you to have some sort of question. It was nothing more than a non disclosure agreement and you understand what it’s for but it all felt just a little bizarre. You’re not put off by it by any means, you’ve signed a few as a dancer, but this will include sexual acts—things like what you did in his office and much more… did you really not mind doing this? Even if it felt a little like signing your freedom away.
Maybe you were just worrying too much, it’s not like you were looking for a real relationship and at least this way you’ll get money and your sexual needs dealt with from an ungodly attractive man.
“Is everything alright?” Taehyung asked once the silence had gone on for too long, “If this is not something you’re interested in then…”
“It’s not that,” you held the paper up and looked over at him from across the long stretch of dining table between you, “I thought this all started because you wanted me to model for you. There’s nothing about that here?”
Taehyung just looked at you, the corner of his lips turning upward as he smirked, “Well this contract is just between us two, I figured if you wanted to stop busting tables or dancing, I could hire you on as a model the legal way.”
You released a laugh, “And have to deal with seeing all of your prissy employees more often? Probably having to work with them? No, thank you.”
His eyes hardened as he watched you eye the contract. Before he could ask you what changes you would like him to make to get you to agree, you picked up the pen and quickly signed your name. A small smile came to his face as you slid the white sheet over to him and he quickly signed in his own name without a single ounce of hesitation, looking up at you with that same dark gaze you’re used to seeing before he gets his hands on you.
After dinner, you got into the back of Taehyung’s G-wagon with him following suit, ordering his driver to take you both back to his penthouse. You couldn’t help but smirk, “Are we starting so soon?”
Taehyung only smirked back as he stared out his window but you watched the way he loosened his tie with one hand, “This is soon to you, dear? After the day in my office?”
You’ve grown slightly accustomed to the deep mess of his face and the seductive way it sounded when it was just the two of you and you couldn’t help but reach over the back seat and press your face against his neck, breathing softly as you said, “You just don’t seem as eager yet.”
He turned to look at you, tongue running along his lips like he was ready to devour you and before he could utter out a single word, he felt your lips on his neck, kissing softly and making his eyes shut for a second. Once the shock had worn off he couldn’t help but look toward the rear view mirror where his driver was trying so damn hard not to stare back and catch sight of your arched back and short dress riding up with the way you stood on your hands and knees on the backseat, just kissing his neck teasingly. Taehyung brought an arm around to run a hand along your back, just keeping you close before turning his neck to capture your lips with his, and just like that the two of you were making out the entire drive to his home.
He blames it on all the teasing you did every time you would meet for his impatience. He’s felt your body on his, he’s touched your lips and stared at you as you stripped for him, it’s not his fault he couldn’t wait much longer to get to the real thing.
You barely had time to take in the sight of the hundred story building of luxury apartments before you when Taehyung was already pushing you through the front door and into the empty elevator. Immediately, you threw your arms around his neck, dragging him close and kissing him once more. He kissed back with such eagerness to feel all of you, hands holding your sides like his life depended on it, not wanting you to slip away.
His penthouse was huge, straight out of a movie and when you walked in it even echoed with each step you took.
“Welcome home si—“ a woman’s voice died on the spot and you couldn’t help but squeal at the thought of being caught doing something you weren’t supposed to. The two of you both turned to look at her, Taehyung holding you by the waist to keep you pressed against his front and you took the chance to get a good look at her.
She was dressed in a stiff pencil skirt with a gray blouse tucked into it. Her hair was in a tight bun and she wore black flats. She looked like house staff to you but you’re not sure, all you know is that she’s just as surprised to see you as you are at her. Taehyung released a deep sigh, clearly displeased, “Did I not tell you to head out early today?”
His voice was stern and authoritative, no room to argue and she looked genuinely scared like she would lose her job or something. You pulled away from Taehyung nervously but he didn’t let you get far as he kept his hold on you, waiting for the cleaning lady to leave and she did so rather quickly, not shying away from looking at you in confusion.
It wasn’t until she was scurrying out the door that you couldn’t help but laugh as you looked around, “What? Do you not have guests over often?”
“Not like you, no,” Taehyung said as he stood behind you, slipping the strap of your dress off your shoulder before placing a kiss on it, “Not as pretty.”
You couldn’t help but laugh as you stared up at the large chandelier above you, “So you only bring home ugly women?”
Taehyung couldn’t help but chuckled as he slipped his hand off your shoulder to your wrist, pulling you along toward his room once more, “We’ve been over this before, I don’t have the energy nor time to deal with romantic partners, and we don’t just pick up any woman off the street and bring her to my home.”
“No,” you teased stepping into his room, “Only women you meet when they dance on you half naked.”
He smirked now, watching as you began to slip your dress off only a couple steps ahead of him walking toward his king sized bed of satin sheets. He couldn’t help but begin to remove his blazer, undoing his tie too as your dress fell at your feet. He slowly began to unbutton his shirt, unable to keep his eyes off when you bent down by the waist to undo your heels, ass in perfect display for his eyes only, “My apologies for having taste.”
Once he was fully undressed he walked straight to you, pushing you onto the bed and taking you by surprise. You quickly turned on your back using your elbows to sit up as you watched him began to crawl between your legs still fully dressed but clearly on his way to change that.
"God, your body is so fucking hot," he said in a low growl as he took in the sight of you on his bed. He’s always thought this since the second he saw you on stage and now he has you in his sheets looking at only him and he couldn’t help but allow himself to let his eyes roam down your body.
You bit your lip as you felt his hands begin to slide along your stomach toward your breasts. A small smirk came to your face as he stopped, looking straight down at the center of your breasts and once he realized, he couldn’t stop his fingers from moving. Taehyung released a small chuckle as he held the small clip that rested right between the mounds of your boobs, “Did you wear this just for me?”
“Obviously,” you said with a small moan as he tugged harshly on the clasp, quickly undoing it and your boobs practically spilled out as your bra fell. He smiled, “Like my own little present.”
Taehyung did not hesitate to dip down and place a kiss on your collarbone, hands cupping your bare tits now and holding the weight of them against his palm. You released a breathy sigh of hen he sucked harshly on your skin leaving a line of red live marks trails toward your boobs until finally he was mouthing at your left nipple, tugging at it softly with his teeth and letting out a quiet groan himself.
He’s ashamed to admit how turned on he was just at the sight of your tits in his face, he’s imagined what they look like under your lingerie but right now you’re laying bare beneath him letting him lavish you in wet and sloppy kisses.
“I need you to take this off,” You told him as he licked along your nipple and slowly began to tug at his shirt. He just smirked sitting up in his knees, “Take it off me.”
You did just that, ripping the buttons open and tugging hard enough to make his body move toward you with his lips parted, turned in by how rough you pulled on him. His eyes fell to your nimble hands as they yanked open the top button of his slacks and undid the zipper, brows scrunching together, “Hurry up.”
He let out a soft laugh at your impatience, nodding his head as he flung the shirt off and quickly got off the bed to kick his slacks off too. He stood there in his Versace briefs, dick print evident and it only made you smirk when you saw how hard he was. You couldn’t help but giggle, “Just for me?”
He picked up on your teasing tone similar to the one he used when he asked if you wore the front clip bra earlier. He brought a hand down to his dick, palm running over it, feeling the weight of his bulge, unbelievably hard, “Do you want it?”
You spread your legs even further apart, “Give it to me, Mr. Kim.”
You said the last part in a mocking tone, remembering the way his employees always referred to him as and he just big his lip, crawling back between them and dipping down to kiss you. You welcome his kiss happily, his body pressed against yours and dick snuggly between your legs rutting against your covered pussy for any sort of friction he could get. Your tongue snuck into his mouth, wet and sticky as it swirled around his and a line of drool connected the two when he pulled away from the kiss till only your tongues kissed.
“Are you going to fuck me yet or make me wait?” You asked with your arms wrapped around his neck, hips grinding against his clothed cock, “I’m already so wet for you.”
Taehyung released a low groan at your dirty words when he felt your hands slide down toward his briefs and begin to tug them down on your own accord.
“Horny girl,” he said deeply as he reached down to tug on your underwear, a tearing sound heard clearly and your na dropped in surprise but he just smirked, “I’ll design you a new pair, love, a million of them for every new set I ruin.”
“That’s a big promise, Taehyung,” you said watching him reach into the drawer in his nightstand for a condom. Taehyung just smirked, “A promise I could keep.”
Taehyung knew he should give your pussy some affection, maybe get you stretched out before he completely impaled you with his cock but as he looked down at the gap of your entrance and the way your slick pooled inside it, he wondered if you would even need it. Your lips parted in surprise at the weight of his cock sliding between your folds coating him in your arousal, teasingly grinding against you until his tip bumped into your clit, “Want my cock, pretty girl?”
His hair was all out of place and his lips swollen from how hard he bit his bottom lip, waiting for you to nod
Your hips were becoming restless, “Give it to me.”
Taehyung smirked finally taking his cock in hand and guided his tip toward your entrance and before he could even attempt to push in, your hands were pulling at his hips and with a low groan, he sank into your heat in one go. You both moaned against each other as his hips fell against yours and unable to stop himself, he laid his body flush over yours, moaning against your chest, “Oh fuck.”
He’ll be honest and say he can’t remember the last time he had the chance to be in a tight wet pussy but he does remember that it didn’t feel like this. It was probably fast and unsatisfactory, just a way for him to release whatever stress he had at the moment. This… this was all just so fucking good, the teasing that led up to this, the dancing, the lingerie, all of it.
"Please fuck me,” you breathed out as he finally began to move and you wrapped your legs around his waist only for him to bring his arms around the underside of your knees and drag your legs up toward your chest. Your pussy stretched wider in the new position as he began to thrust, cock pushing in and out of your wet cunt with low moans leaving his lips.
Your hands clawed at his back and it made his eyes roll with the burn of each scratch, veins in his arms protruding as he made sure that you didn’t move your legs from the position he put you in and fucked you in a mating press that had you releasing moan after moan, head tossed back into the pillows in complete ecstasy.
“Such a good pussy,” Taehyung licked his lips but his mouth felt so dry, fucking you hard with his dick, “Fuck baby, haven’t had pussy this good in so long.”
“Good thing it’s yours,” you moaned, as he rocked his hips into yours roughly. His back muscles tensing with each powerful thrust and he growled, “Show me then.”
You didn’t need any explanation to know what he wanted and you were a bit thankful to relieve your sore legs from this position as he rolled onto his back with you on top.
"So good," you moaned loudly, when his hand groped a handful of your ass digging his nails in with small grunts every time your thighs smacked his. If he thought you were a flexible dancer, nothing compared to the way you split your legs open for him, bouncing on his cock using him like he was just another client of yours watching you perform. He didn’t mind that one but especially now that he could touch and he didn’t hold back from lifting his hand only to smack your ass hard enough to make you whine at the pain. Your hair fell to one side and your hand rested on his chest, riding him like your life depended on it just enjoying the depth his cock went into your cunt, “You’re so big.”
“Mhm,” he moaned in agreement, it was one of his proudest achievements and it had him pushing his upper body up to sit, wrapping his arms tightly around your waist and fucking up into you in this new position. Unable to hold himself back he dropped forward, your back hitting the opposite end of his bed instead of how you had originally been when your head was against the pillow. He quite literally made you switch to the other side just so he could be on top again but his hands never left your ass even as they got trapped between your body and the bed, “Am I fucking you good?”
"Mhm,” you whined softly, “I’m gonna—oh fuck, Taehyung.”
He only growled in response, drilling his cocking into you fully allowing himself to lose all sensibility and just do what he’s been wanting to do since he saw you in his lingerie—just fuck you roughly like he knew you were a slut for.
“You a slut for me?” He asked and you surprisingly nodded your head making him kiss along your neck, “Say it.”
“Wanna be your slut,” you moaned, nails scratching along his back as he just pounded the fuck out of you with his big dick, “Fuck, I’m gonna cum.”
“My slut gonna cum?” He asked in a whispered voice, feeling your legs shake and he just knew you couldn’t hold on any longer, "Cum for me then.”
“Oh my go—“ your words died in your throat when he swallowed your mouth with his, giving you the nastiest kiss you’ve ever had and just like that, the knot in your stomach came undone just as he came in his condom. He released a low growl into your mouth as he felt the flood of your release around him, pussy tightening and he physically began to shake through his orgasm.
You’re not sure how much time had passed with his cock still stuffed inside you and once the two of you both came down, he was finally pulling out of you with a tired groan, “Goddamn.”
You were both covered in sweat as he fell to your side and released a sigh, “Fuck, that was good.”
“Mhm,” you hummed, still out of breath as you attempted to sit up, “Bathroom?”
Taehyung pointed toward the door in the corner of his bedroom letting you go on your own to clean up. As you left you wondered what would happen now. Were you supposed to leave now? Was he at least going to call you an Uber or have his driver take you home? As you finished up, you decided you would ask him, you will pick up your dress and pray it wasn’t torn like your underwear and just leave with your dignity in tact.
When you stepped into the bedroom it was empty, you looked around in shock and feeling the insecurity of being completely bare after rough sex was too much to handle and you picked up your dress, wincing a little at the soreness between your legs.
Just as you were getting ready to pull the dress on, a warm hand touched your shoulder blade, moving your hair out of the way and your breath hitched. Taehyung pressed a soft kiss along your neck, “What do you think you’re doing?”
“Don’t you want me to leave?” You asked looking fully convinced it was what he wanted until he hugged you from behind, hand caressing your arm until he laced your fingers together, “What I want you to do is get your pretty self back in bed.”
You couldn’t help but blush, not sure how to handle the tenderness in his voice and touch. Usually after sex the guy would barely pay you any mind, basically toss you to the side even if it was your boyfriend but Taehyung only pulled you back into bed.
“I’m cold,” you said in a soft voice, suddenly feeling a bit more pliant to get in bed with him. Taehyung just smiled as he lifted the covers, “Then come lay down and let me warm you up.”
“I didn’t expect the CEO to be soft after how hard you fucked me,” your words were blunt and yet he still smiled pulling you into his side to cuddle.
“I was just giving you what you asked for, I’m not a monster, Y/n,” as he said that he pressed a hand to your hip, rubbing the part that was sore from all the positions he had you in, “If I was too rough, just tell me.”
“Don’t worry, I liked it,” you snuggled against him, letting him sooth the pain in your muscles as you rested a head on his chest. You brought a leg up around his waist and he hugged you close, “Good, but don’t think I’m letting you leave this bed anytime soon. I want to hold you to make up for all the marks I left.”
“Fine,” you yawned against him, “I’m tired anyway.”
Hoseok could not hide the look of shock on his face the next time he saw you. You wore an expensive silver diamond necklace, “You actually did it.”
It didn’t take him long to figure out what happened, especially when you grinned teasingly, “I did, and let me just say, oh my god.”
“Oh my god what?” Jungkook asked, coming over. The club has yet to open yet so the only people around were employees and that meant you could all hang around before actually having to do anything. That’s how a bartender, a body guard, and an exotic dancer, found yourselves sitting in a private booth having a very private discussion.
All you had to do was give Jungkook the look for him to examine you curiously, eyes widening at the sight of what adorned your neck, “You screwed the rich guy?!”
You nodded, not all offended by his crass tone, knowing he was just caught off guard, “He was so… so… listen, I’m not in love but wow.”
“That good, huh?” Hoseok asked before looking at Jungkook, “I wondered if I’ve ever been good enough to brag to her friends like this after just one night.”
You gave him a feigned pitied expression, “You’re about seven figures short of being that good.”
He playfully glared at you as he said, “Money doesn’t make up for ability.”
“Yeah,” Jungkook agreed with his equally broke friend, “Quality over quantity.”
Your brows furrowed wondering if he used the phrase right but unable to create a concrete thought on it, you decided to move on, “Well I guess Taehyung just happens to be lucky enough to have both.”
“So how does this work?” Hoseok asked, deciding to just change the subject before you destroy his ego any more than you already have, “Did he just toss cash out on the counter and leave or did he stay and do all that lovey dovey shit for shits and giggles?”
Despite your two best friends being guys, you all felt extremely comfortable discussing your sex lives. When you first started working for the club you thought they were so fucking hot that you would explode right on the spot if they even looked at you… now you can only see them as friends who know way too much about your sex life and vise versa… You did not need to know about the time Jungkook got head wearing nothing but his stupid toe socks.
Taehyung didn’t throw cash at you. You had originally thought he had wanted you to leave once you were done but he went as far as pulling you back in bed and made sure you stayed till morning when he had a driver drop you off back home.
You shook your head no, “No, I didn’t leave till morning when he was getting ready to leave. He let me sleep in when he left and when I woke up a check was laying under this necklace.”
“Should I get myself a sugar mama?” Jungkook asked in all seriousness but the girl dancing on the stage was done and you wanted to practice a new dance.
You shrugged as you stood, “Good luck finding one.”
“Sir,” his secretary Jia knocked in his door lightly, “Ms. Choi is here to see you.”
It took him a second to respond as he looked at her slightly displeased. She knows by now that unless he has an appointment with her, he does not want her just storming into his building. It was very obviously too late when Yuna was letting herself in following the secretary, the familiar blonde hair tied back with a hair clip.
“Do you have an appointment?” Taehyung asked from the comfort of his desk chair. She rolled her eyes at him, “Come on Tae, since when did I need an appointment to see you?”
“Since always,” he said, not bothering to rise from behind his desk, “You just never listen.”
With a small huff in annoyance, she plopped down on his couch, “Well, I just wanted to know who the girl was last time I was here. She didn’t have an appointment either.”
Taehyung seemed to stiffen. He absolutely hated when she asked too many questions like she had the right to know. It’s been heard and he still doesn’t understand how she can’t get the hint that he’s just not interested in her. He does not care that they’re family friends. He does not care that their parents would prefer them to marry. He just does not care about her beyond a friendly view. He enjoys being her friend and he’ll always be on her side but she also needs to know her place—which isn’t next to him.
“But I was expecting her,” Taehyung said simply, not feeling the need to elaborate on what he meant.
Jia just continued like he hadn’t said anything, “Who is she anyway? I didn’t peg you as the type to like them so young.”
“A few years never hurt anyone,” Taehyung said, looking down at his phone to see you finally responded to his last text.
taehyung: I’ve got dinner plans but I’m free after. are u?
you: nope, I’ve gotta work at the club tn and u left me a bit sore :/
He couldn’t help but smirk, lip pulled between his teeth as he remembered last night. The two of you were rough, aroused from the get go and he was not able to hold back. You told him not to so in the end he didn’t and now you’re sending him a picture of a small bruise he left on your hip. He was tempted to show you the scratch mark you left on his shoulder blade from clawing at his back.
He ran his thumb across his lips, unable to stop himself from noticing the red lingerie you wore and he knew you would be performing tonight. It was late in the evening and he did have dinner plans but he’s sure he can move it around… maybe.
taehyung: tomorrow?
you: working at the restaurant till close
Jia watched him completely ignore that she was even there and it was starting to really annoy her. She knows that they’re not dating and they most likely never will but she just doesn’t get it. Does he realize how many guys think he’s lucky just for her considering him?
“So are you two dating or is she just an easy lay?” Jia couldn’t help but ask and that barely got his attention enough to glare at her.
“Careful Jia, you’re beginning to sound bitter and I hate bitter women,” Taehyung said with a deep gaze that had her biting her tongue, “Now is there anything you need or did you just come to complain?”
He looked back down to his phone as he typed back a response.
taehyung: I’ll see u before u gotta go
you: what about ur work?
taehyung: I’m boss. I can do whatever I want
“That’s all,” Jia said, plastering a forced smile on her face and rising to her feet, “Just wanted to know who the slut was.”
That made Taehyung snap, “Go ahead and walk your ass out, Jia, I don’t want you coming back here until you learn how to act.”
Taehyung will never deny how much of a classist he really was deep down. Maybe not to the extent as his friends but when he stepped into your apartment he had become very aware of your financial situation. It wasn’t a studio apartment but pretty damn close and just being in there made him feel a bit suffocated. The whole place had to be about the size of his office.
“Are you judging?” You asked, arms crossed over your chest and hip popped out just slightly. Even knowing you were giving him attitude, he couldn't help but smile and say, “Only slightly.”
He just wanted to see if he would get a reaction. You scoffed, “Well sorry not all of us were born with a silver spoon in our mouths and a lingerie empire just handed to us.”
Normally Taehyung would get annoyed if someone said that to him, he’s very aware of his privilege but it annoyed the hell out of him when his own wealthy friends would say it. Instead of getting frustrated he just shrugged, “I’m just saying, two jobs and this is all you get? I could help y’know.”
“I don’t need a handout,” you told him even if it sounded a bit hypocritical. You know he’s giving you money but that was different, it was like a job that you got to enjoy too. He was very attractive and he was really good in bed, plus he’s lavished you with gifts every day of this week and yes you’ve allowed yourself to be spoiled but for him to offer help for an apartment? Now that was a bit too much, even for you.
Taehyung only smirked as he stood in front of you now, hand sliding under the waistline of your short skirt, “Who said anything about a handout?”
You rolled your eyes even as you let him begin to kiss down your neck, “I’ve got to work in an hour.”
“Plenty of time,” he muttered against your skin, “I just want a taste anyway.”
There was something about a rich, attractive man desperate to touch you that always had you smiling. Taehyung was slowly dropping to his knees and kissing down your clothed sides, raising your shirt to move it out of his way, “And if you quit the restaurant it’ll free up a lot of time for us, you know I can give you more anyway.”
“Yeah?” You asked teasingly, “And what about when you get tired of me?”
His fingers found their way under your skirt and pulled at your underwear, a smile on his face, “Tired of this? Never.”
“Hmm, I’ll think about it,” you bit your lip as he disappeared under your skirt, placing soft kisses along your thigh getting closer and closer to your heat.
Taehyung’s hands circled to the back of your thighs, going higher and until he was groping your hurt, nose brushing against your bare pelvis leaving teasing touches that had your breath hitching. He kissed your mouth doing everything to avoid the space between your legs and you were struggling not to move away from his hold. You were standing in the middle of your living room with no back support whatsoever. Your hand snuck under your skirt to move it held a firm grip on his hair.
Just before you could hurry him along, a breathy sigh left your lips when he pressed a tentative kiss on your hood clit feeling the way it began to rise with arousal. The single kiss became two and finally his tongue was slipping between the folds to lick it directly, feeling it harden. He looked up at you from between your legs urging you to move closer to his face with his hands on your butt pushing you into him and you had to spread your legs even further to do so. Taehyung sat prettily on his knees just under you, his tongue flattening against your slit, licking up the pool of wetness you were protruding rather quickly. You had to bite back your lip to hold in a moan and his brows scrunched together in displeasure. You hissed at the feel of his nails sinking into the softness of your ass in warning, “Don’t hold back on me. I wanna hear you.”
You barely had a chance to nod your head in response when he dug his face even further into your wet cunt, tongue lapping at your slick before traveling the tip of it all the way up to your clit and flicking it a couple times, the hard nub covered in his spit. You couldn’t help but let out a louder moan as you failed to pull your hips away from the pleasure with his hands holding you in place.
Your hand tightened in his hair when his tongue curled inside your pussy traveling between your folds until he was swirling it around your hardened clit once more. He wrapped his lips around the small nub, sucking softly while his tongue continued to flick the tip of it, meaning around your clit when you pulled on his hair. You were completely soaking his chin but that did not stop Taehyung from making out with your clit, hands keeping you upright so he could eat you out to his heart’s content.
"Oh god," you moaned as he moved a little rougher now, never once easing up on your clit and mouth open as he fucked you with his tongue. Taehyung knew he was on a time limit because you had to get ready for your shit too so he was doing everything he can to make you cum soon. Your jaw went slack at the sudden rough feeling of his two front teeth just barely applying pressure to your clit teasingly and you felt your legs begin to shake. You repeated yourself, “Oh god, Tae, I’m gonn—“
He licked along your swollen folds, lighting tugging on them with his teeth, not enough to hurt but enough for you to jolt in surprise and you were damn near rutting against his face, ducking your pretty pussy into his wainting mouth.
Taehyung didn’t need a verbal sign to know you were at your breaking point, he could practically feel the way your cunt twitched and just like that, his mouth was being flooded with your released and like a starved man, he happily licked it up.
“Good girl,” he said softly but in his usual deep voice as he pressed a chaste kiss to your mound before dropping your skirt back down and caressing your thighs as he stood up.
From the look the secretary had given you, you just know she was very displeased to see you again. You’re not sure if it’s because she felt like she had a chance with Taehyung or maybe she just doesn’t think you’re good enough for her employer, but she never failed to have a scowl in her face when you walked in, this time sporting a long Prada coat that reached down to your mid-thigh.
Once again you were here and her boss failed to tell her he had an appointment with you and she’s started to realize what your relationship is with him. You just know in her head she’s saying every word she can to make you seem like a slut but frankly, you didn’t care. You were here in business today… real business.
Okay, well, still with your body but it was different today.
When you got in his office he immediately locked the door and pressed a kiss to your lips in greeting. You whined when the camera around his neck dug into your chest but he smiled as he pulled away, “Let me see.”
“Eager?” You asked, “Take this off me then.”
Taehyung didn’t hesitate to do just that. He pulled in the tie in the front and practically yank off the coat he bought you, eyes scanning your body with his usual lustful gaze.
“You know, you should make your lingerie more affordable,” you said to him as he bid his lip at the sight before him. You were wearing white today with satin ribbons and sheer lace. You put on some body shimmer too and you just looked like a little present for him to unwrap. It was another custom design for you aside from the garter belt you added for a nice touch. Taehyung just nodded as he pulled you by the hand toward the couch, “I’ll look into it.”
He directed you to lay down, a hand down your back as he moved you however he wanted you to be. Today would be a different sort of touching, he was only making you pose however he liked on the expensive couch of his. He had you on your stomach, butt slightly raised making your back arched and he framed your hair around your face perfectly. You rested a side of your face on the couch with an arm stretched out behind you and the other tucked under your chin.
He took a step back, raising the camera up for him to get a good view and that’s how it started. Taehyung looked so fucking hot as he snapped picture after picture of you in whatever pose he liked. He wore his usual white button up but it looked completely messed up. The top three buttons were undone exposing his chest, his sleeves rolled up to his elbows and his hair a slight mess. He looked like a sleazy photographer even if he was anything but.
Remember in the beginning when he asked you to model for him and you just kept saying no? Well, there was a change of plans because now you’re in his office doing just that and modeling for him. You don’t even know how he finally convinced you because this was definitely something you weren’t used to. Obviously you were confident in yourself when it came to dancing or putting on a show for Taehyung but to have yourself photographed for others to see? That felt a bit much.
Still, he asked you and you said yes so now here you are listening to his words of assurance, “You look so good, baby.”
Of course with his words you were able to get more into it and did your own poses that had him smiling, “Such a pretty girl.”
“How many more?” You asked as you laid on your side and Taehyung took more close ups of the material. He sighed, “Almost done.”
It went on for a few more minutes till you were beginning to get fed up and Taehyung knew it.
“I’ve got something for you,” Taehyung said as the shoot came to an end and you watched him head toward his desk as you reached into your bag and changed into real clothes. You only came in the coat earlier because you knew he would like to take it off you but now that you’re done and you had work, you had to change. You watched him curiously as he came over to you with a yellow enveloped and a smile on his face. You furrowed your brows in confusion as you took the envelope and opened it.
Taehyung watched your eyes widen with a smile on his face as you skimmed the document, hearing a small jangle and turning it over to drop the last of its content into your palm.
“What’s this?”
“Papers to your new apartment,” Taehyung said as you examined the key, “It’s in your name and fully paid. I’ve signed a contract that covers all the added bills even if you and I happen to fall out.”
“Why’d you do this?” You asked as you looked at the picture of the apartment building. He shrugged, “Call me greedy but I want to spend more time with you and I want you to leave the restaurant, at least. This way you won’t have to worry about making more if I’ve covered your student debt and your housing.”
You just looked at him, unsure how to feel because this all was too much but at the same time you weren’t completely put off by it. You couldn’t comprehend why he would go as far as putting it in your name because then he won’t be able to take it away if you two end.
He didn’t expect you to be jumping in glee but your silence worried him a bit and he had to sit on the edge of the coffee table in front of you to talk, “Sign it and it’s yours, baby, if you want it.”
He handed you a pen and like before when you signed the NDA, you signed the contract wordlessly after reading through it all. He couldn’t help himself, happy to spoil someone with goods and pulled you into him with a hand behind your head and a kiss on your lips.
“You’re spoiling me too much,” you said between kisses and he only smiled.
“That’s the point, isn’t it?” He said, making you laugh softly. When you pulled away you checked the time, eyes widening, “I’ve got to get to work.”
Taehyung released a low groan in a whine, “Noooo.”
You smiled, “How else am I supposed to resign?”
That made him smile and finally, he walked you to the door, “We’ll work out a move-in day and I’ll hire a moving truck so you don’t have to lift a single finger.”
You said your goodbyes and like before he ordered his secretary to call you a cab and promised to see you tonight.
Just after you left, Taehyung called his secretary in holding a flash card in his hand, “I need you to go get these printed, I don’t care how much it costs and if they tell you they can’t fit it in, offer them more. I want these by the end of tonight.”
By late evening Taehyung had what he wanted and a worker was in to install all over his office. There were beautiful black and white photographs, high quality and with a nice depth of field with shadows in all the right places. He purposely did not include your face in a single shot per your request but at least he got to admire the pretty body of yours he gets to touch.
The one above his desk was his absolute favorite, a four foot picture of your breasts clad in the pretty white lingerie wearing his gold Cartier tiger necklace that stopped perfectly at the start of your cleavage, right between them. He looked at it proudly as it looked against the wall behind his desk, distracted by it to the point that he didn’t hear his friend storm into his office with a loud gasp.
“Holy shit,” Jimin did a full 360 as he took in the new art work in his office. Aside from the huh one he had about four others of you in various poses. One was just your arched back, another of your thighs, one with your hand grazing your side and finally, another of his favorite, a pretty view of your belly button ring where he oh so kindly wrote his signature down right next to it with a heart.
“Who’s the new model and is she single?” Jimin asked, smirk on his face as he watched his friend turn to him, clearly displeased.
Jimin wasn’t used to seeing Taehyung like this. Taehyung was always put together and never really let his emotions show. Even if there would come the rare chance when he would be in a relationship he was always private about it but not like this. Jimin has no clue who the person in the pictures was and he was unaware of the NDA you and Taehyung signed. In truth, Taehyung shouldn't even have these pictures in display for anyone who walks into his office to see but he’s not taking them down. The rules of the contract are slowly leaving his head and he’s wondering if the same is happening to you.
Taehyung looked back at the pictures adoringly, “Don’t worry about it, she’s all mine.”
::.
idk how I feel about this 😭💀um hopefully it wasn’t horrible idk man fr. also I’ll probs add more to their relationship in short drabbles
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#kim taehyung#taehyung smut#kim taehyung smut#taehyung au#taehyung#taehyung angst#bts taehyung#taehyung drabble#taehyung fluff#Taehyung fic#taehyung one shot#taehyung oneshot#taehyung fanfic#taehyung x y/n
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You're losing me pt 4.
prev part. part 1 next part
TW: Drug use, mentioned rape, mention of violence, medic is the worst human on earth
Simon sat down next to Johnny on his bed, holding the Scotsman's hand while giving him a reassuring nod. "We have the whole day time."
"It's complicated."
"I will understand."
"Promise to believe me."
"Promise." Simon didn't know exactly what had happened or how Johnny got this way. He always admired Johnny for his confidence and the way he made everything seem so easy. Seeing his boyfriend like this broke his heart. He knew Johnny would never cheat on you; he loved you, everyone loved you. He remembered that one day Johnny got piss drunk on a mission and a bird approached him. He showed her pictures of you for 10 minutes, telling everyone he had the most beautiful lass on earth. This man wouldn’t cheat, especially not with her, definitely not his type.
Simon thought she had just gone into Johnny's bed at night, removing her clothes and gaslighting him that he cheated. But when Johnny told him everything about the drugs, about the rape, about the way she tried to blackmail him, he felt like he needed to throw up. He was too young to protect his mother from this. He couldn’t do anything when it happened to him. He didn’t know you when it happened to you. But this time, he was going to kill the rapist. "You’re a good man. Don’t let her manipulate you into something you aren’t."
"I feel like shit."
"This won’t go away easy, love."
"I don’t know what to do." And he really didn’t know. Everything seemed and felt so lost. Simon believed him, right? But what if she tells everyone he raped her? It will be over with his military career. After she pulled that stunt you wouldn’t believe him anymore. The look in your eyes almost broke him completely. This was wrong. It went too easy for her like she had done this many times before or had been planning this for years. It was too easy.
"Let me fix it for you, Johnny." He was determined to do this. Through his head already went 1000 ideas on how to kill her. But every way was too easy, too nice for her. Rip her head off. Sell her off to the black market so she will experience first-hand the crimes she did to others. Burn her alive. Many possibilities.
"Don’t kill her, Lieutenant."
"You know she will do it again. Not only to you but to others."
"Do you think she already did this?" Johnny fiddled with his wrist. The bracelet that you bought him to help with his ADHD was gone. It always calmed him. You told him how you searched through whole Etsy to find some gems that should calm him down. He didn’t believe this shit, but it indeed calmed him down since it reminded him of you. And right now, you were the only thing he needed. He needed you to tell him that he isn’t dirty, that he isn’t at fault, that he is a good man.
"Would explain why she was transferred so fast to us from her old unit."
"Fuck." This needed to stop. He couldn’t let that happen to more innocent people.
"Let’s talk to Price, then I’ll take care of her, and after that, we get our girl back." Simon missed you just as much as Johnny did. For a split second, he was afraid that you were mad and disappointed that he didn’t check on you. But that wasn’t the selfless girl he fell in love with. He knew you would understand if you only knew. He could already imagine how you would apologize even though you didn’t do anything wrong. You were different than the medic scum.
"Do you think she’ll take us back?"
"Yes, promise." He placed a small kiss on the shaved part of Johnny's mohawk, a small gesture that the Scot always loved. Simon always knew how to calm him down. With that, they left in the direction of Price's office.
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He woke up with an immense headache and the urge to throw up. John really drank too much the last few days, but this will end now. He will concentrate on you and the job again. You forgave him for lying, at least that was the last thing he remembered before you brought him to his bed. On his bedside table stood a glass of water and one of your self-made brownies with a small note. "Take care of yourself, bear." You always jokingly called him a bear because that was what he was to you. John was the big cuddly bear who always kept you safe.
He knew by the amount of alcohol he drank yesterday, he should probably head to the medical department for some meds. He would never tell anyone, though. He was a hypocrite sometimes, always letting the other hungover soldiers run miles to torture them for being so irresponsible to drink before training. But he could afford the luxury of taking meds against his hangover.
So John went to the medical. He was annoyed when he only saw her there.
"Hello, Captain." She smiled brightly, which made him almost throw up on the spot. There was always a difference between the real, sweet-like-a-cake, like his girl, and the artificial acting sweetness she faked. It was disgusting. "Is there another medic or nurse in here today?"
"No, sorry, Captain."
"I'll go then."
"Come on, Captain, be professional. What do you need?"
"Just something against my hangover." He can be professional and still respect you, right? You won’t be mad he talked to her.
"That was easy. I'll bring you something."
She came back, still with that creepy artificial sweet smile. In her hand was a glass of water with, judging by the displaced white particles, meds. "Just some pain meds against headache and dehydration. Drink up, Captain, and then stay here for 20 minutes for the next med."
John drank it up. After a few minutes of sitting in the chair, he felt his limbs tingle weirdly. This must be one of those side effects of the meds.
"How are you feeling, baby?" Weird name.
"Don’t call me that." He tried to leave, but it felt like his body didn’t do the things he wanted anymore like he was paralyzed.
"I wouldn’t do that, John."
"What was in there?" This can’t be fucking true. This is one of those weird drunk dreams.
"Oh, baby, just some mild paralyzer. Don’t worry, it only lasts three hours, and you can still talk. That’s great, isn’t it? Oh, and Viagra."
Fuck, this is true. This is how she got Johnny. She is fucking sick. "What do you want?"
"You know, I really tried to be nice, but you all only talk about her all the time, so I took matters into my own hands." She said as she slowly sat down on his lap. John tried hard to do anything, but he wasn’t able to move.
"Look, you’re a pretty girl. You don’t need us. There is someone who loves you." He tried to be nice, and use his words to come out of this situation, but she already removed his pants. He knew it was over there until he heard the sudden voices of Johnny and Simon. He knew she could never outsmart them, and she knew it too.
"Fuck, fuck," she screamed, gathering the remaining meds and her things. She ran out of the room the second she saw the door open.
"Fucking hell, Captain, you're okay?"
"That fucking cunt drugged me. Get a fucking nurse here." This all didn’t go like Simon's plan. It felt like she was always a step ahead of them.
----------------------------------------
Kyle didn't notice any of the drama going on in medical as he used his time in the gym. Well, more of texting you instead of being productive, until.
"Fucking hell."
------
Tag list: @littlechomper @ab12305 @darkangel4121
A/N: I know you are waiting for her downfall, it will come promise.
#cod#call of duty#tf 141 x reader#captain john price#cod mwii#cod x reader#cod mw2#john price#simon ghost riley#tf 141#kyle gaz x reader#kyle gaz garrick#kyle garrick#gaz garrick#gaz x reader#cod mw#ghost cod#modern warfare#call of duty modern warfare#soap mw2#john soap mactavish#soapghost#soap cod#soap x reader#ghoap#simon riley#ghost call of duty#ghost#simon my beloved#simon riley x reader
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Saw a fun little conversation on Threads but I don't have a Threads account, so I couldn't reply directly, but I sure can talk about it here!
I've been wanting to get into this for awhile, so here we go! First and foremost, I wanna say that "Emmaskies" here is really hitting the nail on the head despite having "no insider info". I don't want this post to be read as me shitting on trad pub editors or authors because that is fundamentally not what's happening.
Second, I want to say that this reply from Aaron Aceves is also spot on:
There are a lot of reviewers who think "I didn't enjoy this" means "no one edited this because if someone edited it, they would have made it something I like". As I talk about nonstop on this account, that is not a legitimate critique. However, as Aaron also mentions, rushed books are a thing that also happens.
As an author with 2 trad pub novels and 2 trad pub anthologies (all with HarperCollins, the 2nd largest trad publisher in the country), let me tell you that if you think books seem less edited lately, you are not making that up! It's true! Obviously, there are still a sizeable number of books that are being edited well, but something I was talking about before is that you can't really know that from picking it up. Unlike where you can generally tell an indie book will be poorly edited if the cover art is unprofessional or there are typoes all over the cover copy, trad is broken up into different departments, so even if editorial was too overworked to get a decent edit letter churned out, that doesn't mean marketing will be weak.
One person said that some publishers put more money into marketing than editorial and that's why this is happening, but I fundamentally disagree because many of these books that are getting rushed out are not getting a whole lot by way of marketing either! And I will say that I think most authors are afraid to admit if their book was rushed out or poorly edited because they don't want to sabotage their books, but guess what? I'm fucking shameless. Café Con Lychee was a rush job! That book was poorly edited! And it shows! Where Meet Cute Diary got 3 drafts from me and my beta readers, another 2 drafts with me and my agent, and then another 2 drafts with me and my editor, Café Con Lychee got a *single* concrete edit round with my editor after I turned in what was essentially a first draft. I had *three weeks* to rewrite the book before we went to copy edits. And the thing is, this wasn't my fault. I knew the book needed more work, but I wasn't allowed more time with it. My editor was so overworked, she was emailing me my edit letter at 1am. The publisher didn't care if the book was good, and then they were upset that its sales weren't as high at MCD's, but bffr. A book that doesn't live up to its potential is not going to sell at the same rate as one that does!
And this may sound like a fluke, but it's not. I'm not naming names because this is a deeply personal thing to share, but I have heard from *many* authors who were not happy with their second books. Not because they didn't love the story but because they felt so rushed either with their initial drafts or their edits that they didn't feel like it lived up to their potential. I also know of authors who demanded extra time because they knew their books weren't there yet only to face big backlash from their publisher or agent.
I literally cannot stress to you enough that publisher's *do not give a fuck* about how good their products are. If they can trick you into buying a poorly edited book with an AI cover that they undercut the author for, that is *better* than wasting time and money paying authors and editors to put together a quality product. And that's before we get into the blatant abuse that happens at these publishers and why there have been mass exoduses from Big 5 publishers lately.
There's also a problem where publishers do not value their experienced staff. They're laying off so many skilled, dedicated, long-term committed editors like their work never meant anything. And as someone who did freelance sensitivity reading for the Big 5, I can tell you that the way they treat freelancers is *also* abysmal. I was almost always given half the time I asked for and paid at less than *half* of my general going rate. Authors publishing out of their own pockets could afford my rate, but apparently multi-billion dollar corporations couldn't. Copy edits and proofreads are often handled by freelancers, meaning these are people who aren't familiar with the author's voice and often give feedback that doesn't account for that, plus they're not people who are gonna be as invested in the book, even before the bad payment and ridiculous timelines.
So, anyway, 1. go easy on authors and editors when you can. Most of us have 0 say in being in this position and authors who are in breech of their contract by refusing to turn in a book on time can face major legal and financial ramifications. 2. Know that this isn't in your head. If you disagree with the choices a book makes, that's probably just a disagreement, but if you feel like it had so much potential but just *didn't reach it*, that's likely because the author didn't have time to revise it or the editor didn't have time to give the sort of thorough edits it needed. 3. READ INDIE!!! Find the indie authors putting in the work the Big 5's won't do and support them! Stop counting on exploitative mega-corporations to do work they have no intention of doing.
Finally, to all my readers who read Café Con Lychee and loved it, thank you. I love y'all, and I appreciate y'all, and I really wish I'd been given the chance to give y'all the book you deserved. I hope I can make it up to you in 2025.
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American Psycho Killer
Summary: Leon S. Kennedy, a man who’s taken his duty of protection very seriously. He’ll do anything to ensure the safety of people, especially the safety of one particular girl.
Warning: stalking, murdering, mentions of planned murder, mentions of drugs and drug abuse, gore (kinda), death, masturbation (m receiving), smut, creampie, yan!leon, not proofread lol, fem reader, psychopathic.
A/N: I did my research for this as I wanted this to sound a little spooky teehee :3
[part two]
“I got you under my skin” - Mirotic, TVXQ!
Psychopath vs. Sociopath. The popular argument in between psychologists.
Leon never really cared enough to get himself checked out but there were signs. He didn’t feel empathy for others, his moves were calculated and he’s highly educated. He has a well paying career, he pretends to be this normal guy when in reality, he’s psychopathic.
What defines a psychopath apart from a sociopath? Psychopaths, at least in Leon’s case, cannot form established bonds with others. He doesn’t feel guilt or sad when he sees a person die by his hands.
His job already requires him to kill so this was an easy feat. He doesn’t care. He can’t feel anything.
He couldn’t feel anything until you came along.
Leon lived in this apartment complex just downtown of a city in the state. The apartment was big and had security cameras all around. It was well guarded and the people were kind.
When he saw the new neighbor move in, he felt weird. He narrowed his eyes as he watched you from the window of his apartment loft. He was growing suspicious at his behavior. Why did his chest feel warm? Why is his heart beating fast? Why are his hands sweating?
He didn’t know. Up to this point he didn’t feel anything but you brought something to him and it made him uneasy. So he decided to keep an eye on you.
Days passed after you moved in and you settled just fine. The old lady at the end of the hall brought you cookies, a sweet old lady. She talked to Leon a few times and he didn’t think much of her other than just as his neighbor. Nothing more.
But if you were to ask him what he thought of you? Oh boy, he thought a lot of things. Both good and bad.
Being a psychopath isn’t praised in society. Only 1% of the population is considered one and no one knew he belonged to that percentage. And he’d like to keep it that way; his excuse for his behavior was his job. He always left early in the morning and came back late at night. A manipulator and a liar is what he was, and a very good one.
He’s seen you leave your apartment from time to time. You’d take out the trash, went out with your friends- he’s seen everything you do.
Leon isn’t stupid, he’s attentive and observant. He leaves no trace behind of the murder he just committed. The male neighbor across from your door saw you one day when you walked out of your door with a short dress.
The man eye-fucked you so much he literally almost started drooling. Leon cringed and found him repulsive. How dare he look at you like you were some meat on the market?
He felt anger and disgust. No one should look at you like that. No one.
So, one summer day, he made up an excuse to visit him. Something about a water pipe connecting to his sink that didn’t make it work. Like I said, Leon is a good manipulator and a good liar. He always gets what he wants.
The male neighbor invited him in and closed the door behind him. He offered Leon a beer, to which he refused. He found liquor and other substances repulsive. He walked over to the man’s kitchen sink and began to inspect it.
He noticed the man’s sink had a garbage disposal unit. That’s pretty dangerous, he thought to himself.
He walked over to where the man was sitting. The male neighbor was sitting on his reclining couch as he watched a game with a cup of beer on the stand next to him. The neighbor was so engrossed on the football game that he didn’t notice Leon slipping something into his drink.
Leon was smart. Dangerously smart. He knew everything when it came to death- he worked in the DSO, of course he knew some things. He knew the effects of alprazolam and what it does to the brain.
So when he lied to a psychiatrist about his insomnia and got prescribed some Xanax, he crushed a high dosage into fine powder and slipped it into the man’s beer.
Stupid bastard, Leon thought to himself.
He watched as the male neighbor took a sip of his drink and Leon waited. Xanax is a powerful drug, can cause hallucinations and make your brain become a little too calm. You’re bound to fall asleep at some point. And with the amount Leon dropped into his drink, he knew he’d knock out sooner than later.
After a few minutes of “tinkering” with the man’s sink. He got up and went to check on the man again.
And sure as hell did the man find himself in a profound slumber. His snores layering with the sound of the TV.
Too easy, Leon smirked to himself. He put on some elastic gloves and made sure he wore shoes that wouldn’t leave footprints. In case things would get messy, of course.
He poured the man’s drink down the sink to get rid of the evidence. He then thought hard about how he should go about this.
There’s many different ways one can commit murder but Leon wanted the cleanest one. So he came up with one.
He brought pans to the stove and made it seem like the man was cooking something for himself. He partially cooked a stupid egg and left it there. Leon went back to where the man was sitting and dragged him out of his couch and towards the kitchen. Since this man’s place was small, the kitchen and dining area were joined together. He sat there man down on the dining table, which happened to be near the stove. He took out the man’s phone and put it in the man’s hand to make it seem like he was using it.
Leon went back to the kitchen and continued to prepare the scene. He took out bottles of alcohol the man had and poured them down the drain to make it look like he’d had a few drinks. He took a single cup from the cup rack and filled it up halfway. With the cup and bottle of whiskey in both hands, he walked back to the table where the man was sitting and laid them on the table. He took the half empty cup and smeared the man’s lip on the rim. You must cover every single detail.
He even poured a little alcohol into the man’s already parted lips. Leon walked back to the stoved and kept the gas on. Now all he needed to do was wait and let nature do its thing.
Leon walked out of his apartment, pretending to still be talking to the man since there was a camera on the corner of the hall. As the door opened, the camera couldn’t record that Leon had been talking to himself. It made the act believable.
With a smile, Leon walked back to his place and stayed there.
A few hours passed and it started to get dark outside, each resident was inside their unit and ready to go to sleep when the fire alarm began to sound. Everyone was forced to evacuate the premises as the firefighters came to the scene.
You saw as the ambulance brought out a stretcher into the building. Someone was still inside, you thought to yourself as your eyes widened and your heart rate increased. You tried to move but felt someone’s hand on your arm, it was Leon.
“Don’t. It’s too dangerous,” he replied in a serious tone as he stared at you with those cold blue eyes. You pinched your brows together. He was right. If you were to try and save the person, you’d die in the process. You nodded defeatedly and he let go of your arm. He stood there watching you- analyzing you.
You had a good heart, he thought. Too good for his liking. That made you an easy target for people and he loathed the idea of people exploiting your kindness. He vowed to protect you, to mark his hands dirty for you.
As the EMT brought back the stretcher, you could see a person lying there lifeless. All the other residents immediately started to mutter amongst themselves, some started to cry and others gasped in shock. You simply stood there, wide eyed and jaw slack. Leon’s expression remained unchanged as he watched you react to the man’s death. The man deserved it, he thought to himself.
Couldn’t you see that he was protecting you? You’ll come around eventually, he thought.
As the ambulance left the area, the firefighters started to clear the smoke as the police arrived. The police began to do their investigation as the firefighters checked the unit and deemed it good after clearing out the fire and the smoke. One police officer began to make her way to the apartment as the other stayed behind with the residents to ask questions.
Leon was a smooth talker. A trait most psychopaths had. He could get himself out of any situation and he could lie. So when the police asked him what had happened, Leon simply replied with, “I’m not sure. I went to his apartment to check his water supply as my sink stopped working and he lived next to me. I noticed he was making himself some food but I was too busy checking our pipes. He reeked of alcohol and barely spoke to me,” Leon’s tone was different. He sounded likey he spoke the truth.
You couldn’t help but listen to his words. To you, they are true. You saw him walk out of the man’s apartment.
The investigation was deemed as self-manslaughter. The police believed that the man suffered from deliberate alcohol poisoning which caused him to pass out in the process of cooking himself some food.
This made news headlines. Everyone believed the story but they thought the man was stupid enough to cook while he was drunk. Many of the residents believed it, he was a known alcoholic. Leon was never caught.
He was watching you from the window, months after the incident occurred. You had just come back from your college lecture. Leon knew. He stalked you, he followed you.
He knew your weekly routine. Monday through Thursday you had lectures. On Friday, you did work study. And the weekends were reserved for your personal time. He felt proud of you for balancing your life. You lived healthily and he couldn’t help but feel proud at your decisions. He knew you were smart enough to take care of yourself.
He knew the campus you went to, he knew the classes you were taking, he knew your major- he knew everything. But he pretended like he didn’t.
So when he saw you in the parking lot, right next to his car and you had trouble with your groceries, he couldn’t help but feel like your knight in shining armor. With his hardened expression, he asked you in his stern and serious voice, “Need some help?”
You smiled sheepishly and nodded, “Yeah… you don’t mind helping me?” You scratched your head awkwardly. On the inside, he found it adorable. But on the outside, he maintained his cool. He nodded and walked over to your car to retrieve the bags of groceries you bought. He was so strong he carried all the bags to your apartment door. You thanked him graciously and invited him inside.
“You can put them on the table, I’ll assort them,” you said as you took of your jacket and hanged it on the rack right next to the door. He nodded and walked over to the dining table, where he put all the bags with food. He took this opportunity to look around your place.
You kept it simple. It was nice, colorful, but nice. You had tons of books on your shelves, he took a mental note that you probably liked to stay indoors. He noticed the way your laptop and a few papers were scattered on the couch and coffee table, you were studious and dedicated to your education. He silently applauded you in his head. He liked that about you. You had goals and ambitions.
“Thank you, again. I owe you one,” you walked up to him and gave him a warm, genuine smile. He looked down at you and nodded again. Pretty smile, he thought to himself.
“It’s no problem, let me know if you need help with anything. I’m a couple doors away,” he replied with his usual serious tone. He remained unchanged, at least to you. To him, he felt like he about to combust into pieces. You were perfect, absolutely perfect.
Days went by and you found yourself talking to Leon more often. Or at least on the days you could. Leon was gone most of the day, he told you about his hectic work schedule and you couldn’t help but feel bad about him. So you decided to make him a small dinner with a note.
You left it on the front door of his apartment and walked back to yours. When Leon came back from work, it was 2:27 a.m. As he climbed up the steps of the stairs, he noticed something on his front door and felt slightly confused. He hasn’t ordered anything. He grew cautious and slowly approached his door. But then he saw your name on a sticky note. He quickly picked up the lunch box and walked inside his apartment.
Walking to his dining table, he read the note you left. Even your handwriting was perfect. The little swirls of the letters, almost writing in cursive made him want to keep you all to himself. He brought the piece of paper to his nose and sniffed it roughly, the paper crumbling in his hands as he could smell your scent on it. He groaned in pleasure as he could imagine your soft and small hands picking up a pen and write something just for him.
Just for him.
That thought alone almost set him off. He couldn’t eat dinner, not with the growing erection in his pants. He put the dinner you made in his freezer and quickly walked to his bedroom. He sat down on his bed and unbuckled his belt, throwing it somewhere on the floor. He pulled down his pants and boxers and watched as his cocked sprung freely, hitting his abdomen with a thwack.
His left hand held the piece of water with your handwriting and your scent while his right hand traveled to his cock. He brought the piece of paper to his nose again and closed his eyes in pure delight. Your scent was intoxicating- sweet vanilla with a hint of coffee. He grunted and moaned at the thought of your hands picking writing this note. He could picture your small hands wrapping his big cock, rubbing his base up and down as your scent infiltrated his airway.
His muscles tensed up as the thought of having you in between his legs made his cock throb. His stomach coiled as he felt himself nearing his orgasm. He could imagine your mouth sucking on his cock as he rammed his hips deeper down your throat, making you gag on him. He’d grab your hair and pull you closer to his pelvic area, having his blonde pubic hair rub against your face as you took his cock like a good girl.
He growled your name as he came in himself. White ropes shooting down at his palm as he tried to collect his cum and prevent it from staining any of his furniture. He sighed softly and laid his back on the mattress as he thought of you.
You drive him wild, he’d do anything for you. If it meant having you as his.
And that’s what drove him to kill more people. One day, he overheard you while both of you “coincidentally” went to get the mail from the lobby. You were speaking on the phone to a friend and he tried to make it seem like he wasn’t listening. But he was.
He heard you talk about how your ex is pestering you and giving you a hard time. That you cried last night because you two had an argument while he tried to get back together. His blood ran through his veins as you mentioned you cried.
He’d kill anyone who made this sweet and perfect angel cry. And that’s what his next murder was going to be. He went back to his apartment and began to stalk you again. As a government agent, he had privileges the common folk didn’t have. He was able to run a background check on you and found out your ex. To his surprise, he was your first and only relationship so far. He knew this guy probably broke your heart as your first relationship will always be your worst one.
He narrowed his eyes in anger as he found the man who broke your heart. And jotted down the information he had on him- his address, his workplace, his contact information, etc. Leon found everything thanks to his job.
When you heard news about your ex dying, you were shocked to see that he died from overdose. You’ve never known he was a drug addict, or at least that’s what Leon made it seem to be.
Leon drove all the way this man’s house and observed his routine. Your ex went to work, came back home, and went to the bar. An alcoholic, this made it easier for him.
Leon walked into the bar with his casual clothes, he spotted the man sitting on the bar counter with a drink already in his hand. He walked over and sat next to him as he ordered himself whiskey.
Your ex was already stupidly drunk, flirting up some poor girl who was just trying to talk to her friend. So he’s a creep too, he thought to himself as he took a sip his drink.
Why do you always find yourself around creepy and perverted men?
Leon looked around and made sure no one was watching him as slipped some stuff into his drink. Leon then continued to sip his drink and even chatted up the bartender.
The more your ex drank, the closer he got to an overdose. Turns out if you mix alcohol with prednisone, the effects could be fatal. Your ex would develop a liver damage that could potentially end his life if he kept drinking like he was right now.
It was getting late and Leon paid his tab. It was 11 PM and he decided he should go home. He wasn’t drunk, not yet at least. So he was perfectly capable of driving back to his apartment. But not your ex.
It was nearing closing time for the bar and the poor bartender saw your ex passed out on the counter. She didn’t know what to do but she tried waking him up.
Unresponsive. Her eyes widened slightly as she over to his side and checked for a pulse.
Flat line. She called the police and reported the death.
The police declared it suicide. They believed he voluntarily took drugs and alcohol at the same time.
In your mind, you were in denial but then you slowly began to think to yourself. He’s been acting weird and out of the ordinary when he’d talk about getting back together. It all made sense now. His aggressive behavior, his short temper… he was a drug addict and an alcoholic.
You attended the funeral, of course. And when you came back, Leon had been unlocking his door. He saw your puffy eyes as you had your heels in your hands. You looked like you’ve been crying- which you probably were. Leon paused as he stared at you, he nodded once at you, acknowledging your presence. He then spoke up in a tired voice, “Rough day?”
You nodded as you blinked slowly, “You could say that.”
He hummed in response and looked back down at his doorknob. Then he looked back to you, “Do you want to talk about it?”
Leon himself was tired as he just came back from a tough mission, but he would never be too tired for you. He pushed his exhaustion to the side and would rather take care of your needs for you.
You sighed and nodded slowly, “I could use a drink.”
He invited you over to his apartment and let you sit down on his couch as he took two glasses and one bottle of Jack. He walked over to the couch and set down the glasses and the bottle on the coffee table as he sat down next to you.
He began to pour for the both of you, not wanting you to work any more than you’ve already had.
“Cheers,” you muttered under your breath as you clanked your glass with his and chugged the liquid down your throat. The burning sensation almost making you forget about the mental strain you had.
He watched you as you set down the glass back down on the coffee table. Even in this state, you looked absolutely beautiful. He couldn’t wait to have you for himself. To prove to you that what you needed was a real man.
One thing let to another and you found yourself pinned under him on his bed. Your legs spread open as your knees rested on his shoulders. The head of his cock abusing your cervix, bruising it with brute force as he pulled out and pushed back in harshly. His balls smacking against your ass as his arms caged you under him. Your hands were on his shoulders, nails clawing deep into his flesh as the bed creaked from him pounding into you. The headboard hitting the wall behind the bed as he pulled out and forced his cock back into your tight walls. Your cunt clenching around his member as his hands gripped on your hair, forcing your head up so he could hear your stupid blabber.
He pulled out and rolled you over to your stomach. His left hand gripped on your waist as his right hand gripped the back of your neck and pushed your face down the sheets of his bed as he rammed his cock from behind you. Your ass jiggling as pounded harsher and harsher. Making sure you knew who you belonged to. He’d fuck you until you couldn’t walk.
You kept moaning his name against his pillow. Drool falling down your lips as tears rolled down your cheeks from the pleasure. You felt him even deeper from this position. His left hand gripped on your waist as it then traveled down to your ass and smacked, almost immediately seeing his hand print show in a pink and red hue on your skin. The burning sensation of the slap only made you more needy for his touch. His left hand found your hip and forced your body to clash against his as he fucked you straight to bliss.
Stars clouded your eyes as you whimpered and moaned. He cock throbbed and twitched inside of you as it stretched you. It hurt but it hurt good. His right hand gently squeezed the back of your throat, causing you to moan.
“Fuck- Leon- ‘mma cum-“ you spoke breathlessly in between moans and whimpers. He leaned down to whisper in your ear, “Cum for me,” he pressed a kiss on your shoulder blade as he felt you squirm under him. Your body convulsing as your orgasm took the best of you.
Your pussy clamped and clenched around him, wedging him with your juices. He didn’t stop, however. He kept pounding into you as the squelching sound echoed through his room.
He grunted and growled as he felt himself about to cum. He began to speed up and he let go of your neck. Now that both of his hands were on your hips, he gripped the fat of them and forced your body in and out of his cock. Bruising your cervix as your ass hit his hips. The sweat making your skin glisten under the shitty light of his room. You looked even more beautiful when he was fucking you like this.
His hot and sticky cum spurted out of his cock, coating your walls with a part of himself. In his sick and twisted mind, he branded you. He branded you with his essence and he didn’t regret it. He pulled out and heard you moan dumbly as he watched his cum slowly drip down the lips of your cunt to his bedsheet. He’d have to clean them but he didn’t care. He gave your ass a gentle squeeze as he patted your back for you to lay down. He knew you enjoyed it so much since you were on the brink of passing out.
You closed your eyes and felt as Leon cleaned you up. He took your hand and placed a gentle kiss on you knuckles. He was grateful to have you.
He wouldn’t mind killing again. Now that you were his in his mind, he’d go as far as killing every man who’s ever laid eyes on you.
For you, he’d become the world’s best serial killer.
#leon kennedy#leon s kennedy#leon scott kennedy#resident evil#id leon kennedy#leon kennedy x reader#leon kennedy x y/n#leon kennedy x you#leon s kennedy x reader#re4 leon#re2 leon#di leon#re2r leon#re4 remake#re2 remake#resident evil 4#leon kennedy headcanons#leon#yandere!leon kennedy x reader#leon smut#leon kennedy smut#r#re4r leon#smut#infinite darkness#death island leon
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pairing: anakin skywalker x reader
summary: perv!anakin chooses your panties for you every day
contents/warnings: perv!anakin, afab!reader, 18+ themes, minors dni, jealousy, possessiveness, panty sniffing, slight mention of free use dynamics/somnophilia
every morning you ask anakin what panties you're wearing for the day.
you know where they are, you have your favorites, you can reach the drawer just fine. by all means, you could pick a pair each morning for yourself. after all, you're a grown adult. but anakin insists on doling them out to you each day, depending on his mood and whatever your plans are for the day.
if he knows you'll be alone with him for most of the day, he chooses sexy ones. lacy, itchy to hell and back, barely-there against the supple curve of your ass. He chooses pretty ones because he knows he'll be staring at them all day; you don't usually bother with pants on days you're home alone with him.
if you're working, or training, or you'll be away from him for some other reason, he'll give you plain cotton ones that are for function, not pleasure. that's not to say that he doesn't use them for pleasure later, inhaling the scent of your sweat-soaked cunt and thighs from the fabric while strangling his red-tipped cock with his vigorously pumping fist.
sometimes he doesn't give you any. it depends on the day, sometimes you not wearing panties is sexier to him than you wearing lingerie, so when you approach him in the nude, long-since having abandoned the courtesy of a towel after your shower, your skin soft and tacky with warm water, he shakes his head. it's one motion, a simple turn-then-turn-back, but it tells you all you need to know.
"Not today." he decides, and that's that; no panties for you.
sometimes he lets you bargain, like you've got some say in the matter. he'll hold up two pairs, one dotted with cherries and the other with hearts. 'Which one, baby?' he'll ask, and when your eyes linger on the cherries, he bites his tongue to stop from grinning. Upon verbal confirmation, he'll chuck the heart ones back into the drawer, and kindly and gently body slam you onto the bed behind you so that he can pull them up over your legs. And, well, once he's on top of you he usually doesn't get up for a while. you might need the heart ones after all; the cherries won't last.
sometimes you whine about it. he hands you off a pair of granny panties that make you feel less-than-desirable, something boring when your stomach roils with excitement.
"Ani," You plead, "Can I have pretty ones today?"
And his nose scrunches, and he glares suspiciously at you, "Why? You're just going to the market." He levels a sneer at you, his words biting, "Fucking the milkman?"
God forbid you're going to work: "Why do you need something more exciting? Who's gonna see 'em, that sleemo who's always hanging around you? Getting you caf, taking calls for you? You gonna let him see 'em?"
He won't hear reason; that the man is your assistant, that his job is to get you caf and take your calls, and that he is not going to be seeing you any less dressed than he normally does.
"That's not it," You huff, but he won't hear you, leaning down with the drab underwear in hand to tap at your ankle. You let him hook your foot into the hole, then your other when he holds the opposite side of the garment out expectantly. He yanks them up your thighs, securing them tight around your waist with a snap of the band.
"That's all you need." He informs you decisively, and no further questions are allowed.
he collects them at the end of the night, too. you sleep without them, because anakin likes to reach between your thighs in the middle of the night and toy with the warmth of your pussy to occupy his restless hands. he needs easy access, so every night when you change out of your day clothes you bring him your panties. it's not an inspection, per se, more of a checking-in what you've checked-out. he'll thumb at any wet spots he sees, something satisfying in their tacky dampness knowing they happened because of he got you horny enough that you were drooling. he'll peer at the lace, ripped from his own hand, and mutter something about needing replacements.
a package full of new sets will arrive on the doorstep days later; anakin doesn't get much money as a jedi, but he uses what he has for what he cares about.
he'll take them from you, tossing them into the laundry hamper in the closet, though you know the moment you're away from him and he wants you, he'll fish them out again just to mash them against his face. you lean in for a kiss after turning in your panties for the night and he presses one to your forehead, stamping it there with a single word, 'Good.'
#anakin skywalker x reader#anakin skywalker imagine#anakin skywalker scenario#anakin skywalker oneshot#anakin skywalker one-shot#anakin skywalker one shot#anakin skywalker headcanon#anakin skywalker headcanons#anakin skywalker hcs#anakin skywalker hc#anakin skywalker fanfiction#anakin skywalker fanfic#anakin skywalker fic#anakin skywalker blurb#anakin skywalker drabble#anakin skywalker dialogue#anakin skywalker fluff#anakin skywalker smut
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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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