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les4elliewilliams · 13 days

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❝SHE’S A MANEATER!❞ – 𝐩𝐚𝐫𝐭 𝐭𝐡𝐫𝐞𝐞.

LOSER!ELLIE ﾒ MEAN!READER

❝OH-OH HERE SHE COMES WATCH OUT, GIRL, SHE’LL CHEW YOU UP!❞

ᝰ.ᐟ ⌞SUMMARY⌝﹕After bumping into you on her first day of college, Ellie spends the entire year captivated by you from a distance. You're everything she could never be—popular, wealthy, and effortlessly alluring, with a perfect, disgustingly rich family to match. Convinced she didn’t stand a chance, Ellie resigns herself to watching from the sidelines. But when her best friend Dina suggests they work at a public pool for the summer, Ellie agrees, hoping to save up some money. What she never expected was to find you there, commanding the space with a magnetic, dangerous charm that pulls her in. Now, Ellie’s summer is about to take a turn she never saw coming, and she’s about to find out just how close she can get to you before it all falls apart.

✶.ᐟ ⌞THIS CHAPTER CONTAINS⌝﹕ approx 10k words⨾ cursing⨾ angst⨾ cheating⨾ reader being a bitch for no reason⨾ 18+ CONTENT (porn with plot)⨾ fingering (𝑒!receiving)⨾ cum eating??⨾ pussy slapping ⨾ thigh riding (r!receiving)⨾ reader is a milf lover⨾ coworker!ellie⨾ dom!reader⨾ fem!reader⨾ player!reader x loser!ellie⨾ jealousy issues⨾ use of names (babygirl, sweetheart, baby, babe, slut/whore, etc...)⨾ lmk if i missed anything!

.ᐟ.ᐟ ⌞AUTHOR´S NOTE⌝﹕ last chapter of part one, finally!! I will start working on the sequel soon (hopefully), I PROMISE there's gonna be a happy ending + an extra drabble/chapter🙄. proofread by @sapphichotmess!!

#.ᐟ ⌞TAGLIST⌝﹕@pick-me-up-im-scared @rew1nds @satellitespinner @boobdrug @ivying @elliewilliamsbelovedwife @mina-281 @hysteriawillnotsuccumb @chxrryvalxntine @bookpagecandlescent @fionaapplelover2010 @andersonslove @macaroni676 @elliesbabygirl @vampcubus @visupremacysstuff @elssaphica @kaykeryyy @nenas19 @rxreaqia @fatbootymuncher @dying-brb @euphoric-rush @intothespidersweb @d1psht

#.ᐟ ⌞CHAPTERS⌝ ↯

˗ˏˋ 𝐨𝐧𝐞 ⋆ 𝐭𝐰𝐨 ⋆ 𝕥𝕙𝕣𝕖𝕖 ˎˊ˗

palestine masterpost ⋆ read this ⋆ daily clicks

31st of August.

Ellie desperately tried to stay away from you, avoiding you like the plague, but her efforts never lasted long. You were too radiant to ignore, too mesmerizing not to be near, and too addictive to avoid speaking to. She was drawn back to you, just like every time she tried to walk away. It wasn’t just a simple matter of having her wrapped around your finger; she was completely captivated by you in body, mind, and soul. You had a hold on her in a way that felt like possessing a voodoo doll made of her hair and personal trinkets. She was as dependent on you as a flower is on water and the moon is on the sun, although the sun never relied on the moon to shine.

The redhead observed you as you conversed with a local customer at the pool, a middle-aged single mother with sleek black hair and icy blue eyes, the reincarnation of Megan Fox—except that Megan Fox was still alive. Her piercing gaze might have intimidated others, but not you. Instead, you smiled warmly and laughed softly as she spoke, your widest smile on full display each time she said something amusing.

Ellie didn’t think too much of it; after all, you were always overly sweet and nice to clients, everyone but her and the people who worked with you—or for you. She didn’t think too much of it until that woman scribbled something down on a napkin from the box on the counter, right beside her elbow, that comfortably rested on the black marble. The woman handed it to you, and the smile she gave you after was less polite. Was this shit even allowed in here?

Ellie wanted to come at you, yell, and fuss at you about it, but she held back. She knew you would brush her off and act like you weren’t knuckles deep inside her sopping hole last night and like she hadn’t been chanting your name like you were the fucking holy Mary herself. You’d treat her like you usually did in public: like you despised her, so she avoided that.

She stood by the deck, Jesse at her side, both enveloped in a serene silence. Unbeknownst to her, his deep chocolate eyes had been studying her attentively. His gaze followed hers, fixing on you, who appeared to be flirting with a woman twice your age.

Ever since Ellie started working here, she had been behaving strangely, a fact that didn’t escape Dina’s notice. Despite Dina’s efforts to point it out, Jesse claimed he couldn’t quite see what she was talking about. The brunette strongly believed that her best friend was keeping something from them, acting mysteriously and evasively about her whereabouts. Ellie always seemed busy whenever they wanted to hang out, and she would never fully explain where she was or what she was up to.

Jesse nonchalantly dismissed the situation, attributing Ellie’s behavior to her quirks. There was some truth to his comment—Ellie often guarded her feelings like an ancient mummy, whatever she was going through. Yet, as he observed the jealousy creeping over her face like an ominous shadow, her previously soft features hardening, he knew. Her airy scoff confirmed his suspicions, prompting him to address the issue directly, not treading lightly around the matter.

“Is it her that you’re seeing?” the Asian asked abruptly, his words filled with pure curiosity. He spoke in a hushed tone, making sure their conversation remained private. Ellie’s heart sank at his direct question, causing her to freeze as her face lost whatever color it had, turning even paler than usual.

Her first thought was, “Is he going to tell Dina?” and then, “Dina’s gonna kill me,” though the latter was a common affirmation that popped into her mind whenever she messed up somehow. Dina often acted like an overprotective mother every second of the day, always quick to scold and lecture her. Not even Maria did that, and she was the closest thing she had to a mother figure.

As her mind raced with uncertainty, Jesse quickly interjected, seeking to soothe her fears with a reassuring tone, “Not gonna tell anyone, y’know.” he said, his voice soft but resolute, sensing her internal conflict.

She exhaled shakily and murmured a quiet, “Yes.” Her eyes darted away from his, finding solace in the chaotic beauty of the pool filled with kids and families. “But she doesn’t want anyone to know,” she added quickly, her gaze dropping to her lap as she chewed on the inside of her cheek.

“Did she tell you why?”

“She’s not ready, she’s not even out yet,” the anxious girl explained with a huff, reluctantly meeting his eyes again. She could already feel his judgment, knew he’d think she was being naive, and that she should end things before it got worse.

“Is she serious about it?” he couldn’t help but retort, a hint of disbelief in his voice. He’d just seen you flirting with another woman moments ago, the memory fresh and irritating.

“It’s... we’re just hooking up,” Ellie revealed, her voice barely above a whisper.

“So it’s not.”

“No, it’s just too early to say. She said she needs time to—” Jesse’s sarcastic scoff cut her off. She gave him a puzzled look, her brows arching in confusion. “What?”

“You’re not that fucking dumb, are you?” he rhetorically asked, his voice quiet and scolding, careful to keep their conversation private.

“What—I’m not being stupid. She needs time. We talked about it last night—I can’t force her to come out when she doesn’t feel ready. It’s not fair to her.” Ellie’s tone grew defensive, a shield against his skepticism. But she knew he was right. This whole hookup thing wasn’t something she even wanted.

“Yeah. How long has she been telling you she needs time?” Jesse shot back quickly, his words like arrows, ready to prove his point.

Ellie stayed quiet for a moment, the weight of his question hanging heavy between them. “‘S not like that,” she finally mumbled.

“What is it like then?” he challenged, not missing a beat. “Look—you do you, man. If you’re happy, I’m happy and all that shit. But she doesn’t exactly have a good reputation. She’s gonna break your heart,” he stated with a frustrating certainty.

“You don’t know that,” she snapped back, her voice laced with desperation.

“Neither do you.” A sarcastic chuckle from her friend broke the tension between them. “I really hope you don’t get hurt in the end,” he concluded, getting up and casually strolling away after a few kids who weren’t wearing their swimming caps, his trustworthy whistle in his hand.

Ellie watched him walk away, a rush of conflicting emotions flooding through her. Anger and doubt churned within her as she turned her gaze back to the pool, the cheerful laughter of the children now fading into the background. Lost in her thoughts, she was startled when you sat down on the white plastic chair beside her. “Hey, Nelly,” you said, your tone cool and composed, maintaining your mean-girl facade, especially in the presence of others. Your mask remained firmly in place, a deliberate refusal to show vulnerability. Despite your determination to be different from your parents, who prioritized outward appearances, you couldn’t help but feel like you were following in their footsteps. The apple did not fall too far from the tree.

“Hey,” Ellie greeted, her usually buoyant tone noticeably absent.

You turned to look at her, your eyebrow raising in a perfect arc as you gazed at her inquisitively. “What’s with the attitude?”

The autumn-haired girl found herself unable to shake off Jesse’s words. They reverberated through her mind, planting seeds of doubt and uncertainty. She desperately wished Jesse had misjudged you; he didn’t know you like she did. How could he possibly pass judgment without truly knowing you? Yet, a rational part of her refused to be silenced, urging her to pay heed to those nagging doubts and not to confuse overthinking with intuition.

Ellie’s words slipped out before she could stop herself, her tone accusatory and colder than she intended. “What’s with that woman who just gave you her number?”

You looked back at her in surprise, and your lips formed an “oh” before you quickly offered a plausible excuse. “Babysitting.”

“Babysitting?” she asked, raising an eyebrow as she locked eyes with you, her expression oozing with skepticism. “Since when do you even babysit?”

“It’s always been something I’ve done,” you replied, unfazed by her doubt.

“Sure, like you really need the extra cash,” she quipped, still skeptical.

“I really do. I can’t keep relying on my parents for everything,” you calmly asserted. There was no hint of defensiveness in your voice; you spoke with a sense of certainty, that it made her feel stupid for questioning your commitment, but she didn’t let it show.

“Okay,” she sighed out, her shoulders slumping as she exhaled, feeling the weight lift off her shoulders.

“Are you coming to the beach tonight? There’s going to be a campfire and free drinks,” you asked, propping your elbows on the arms of the plastic chair as you leaned back, smirking in her direction.

“Yeah, gonna see you there?” the freckled girl inquired with a touch of optimism reflected in her expression. The sun beamed down on her, highlighting her green eyes, making them appear even more vibrant and clear.

“Of course, you’re going to see me there.” your smile grew wider as you replied.

And she did see you there, locked in a passionate kiss with some nameless guy on a bench.

Ellie’s heart splintered into thousands of fragments. It felt as if her insides plunged deeper than the Titanic, the weight of her emotions pressing them down. Despite the overwhelming urge to scream and cry, she found herself unable to produce any sound. Her eyes remained dry, failing to well up with the salty tears that typically accompanied emotional pain. The sea wind tousled her auburn hair, leaving a faint, familiar saltiness behind. Her skin was ablaze, and her stomach churned with disgust, threatening to expel its contents.

Everyone had warned her about you, and they had been right all along.

You didn’t give a damn, you never did. Were any of the sweet words you whispered to her even true? Was she just one of many? Ellie’s mind was a whirlwind of endless questions, most of them rooted in self-doubt. She wasn’t good enough for you, she’d never been. She was never going to measure up to your standards, to your expectations. She was never enough. You were flawless, admired, it only made sense that someone like you would never genuinely desire someone like her. Why would you? She wasn’t attractive, wealthy, or widely liked. She was just an unremarkable, tangled mess of poor humor and peculiarities. You, however, were a living Greek god, cruelly playing with her mind, and shamelessly taking more and more of her, each time she gave you everything she had to offer.

It felt as if Cupid himself had conspired against her, allowing her to experience and savor something that would never belong to her. Unbeknownst to her, even something as lovely as a lily, one of the most exquisite blossoms, could conceal danger beneath its pink velvety petals. She was like a curious cat, irresistibly drawn to the intrigue and allure of the forbidden flower, unaware of its poisonous nature.

3rd of September.

The following days were plagued with ignored phone calls and messages left on read. Ellie had given you the cold shoulder; her silent treatment was supposed to be a form of punishment, but it didn’t last long.

You explained everything, saying it was a misunderstanding, revealing that the guy named Jason had kissed you without your consent and that you had forcefully pushed him away. Ellie left hastily, missing the part where you had angrily stormed off after rejecting his advances.

The auburnette felt a wave of reassurance, knowing that she was the only one for you, that your eyes were solely for her. She trusted you wholeheartedly.

And you were back in her life, in her house, in her bed, between her thighs.

Your spit drenched her aching core, cascading over her engorged clit, the pink throbbing bud begging for your attention. The sight of her slick, swollen folds will never stop driving you crazy. Put on display for your eyes only, as sweet as the ripest fruit. Her pussy quivered beneath your gaze, and a sharp slap to her wet cunt echoed through the room, making her whimper, her hips stuttering and jerking, eyes flashing open to meet yours. “Look at this pussy… so fucking messy, baby,” you purred, a wicked grin curling at the corners of your lips. The look in your eyes was one of an insatiable beast, ready to take away from her once again.

“Stop fuckin’ teasing me,” Ellie whined, her hips bucking frantically against the warm palm nestled on her throbbing core. Her breath hitched as your thumb danced with her arousal, teasing her sensitive clit. “Can’t take it anymore,” she choked out. Desperation began to etch itself into her captivating features as her fluffy, scarred brows contracted together. This subtle expression only seemed to heighten her already striking appearance, adding a sense of vulnerability that made your head spin.

“Hm... Quit acting like a brat and hold still for me,” you spat, your gaze locked onto hers, “Beg for it, and I might just give it to you.”

Ellie’s heart hammered in her chest at your authoritative tone, her body responding instinctively to your dominance. A shiver coursed through her spine, and a flush of heat spread across her cheeks. She bit her lip, trying to hold still and control the urge to squirm under your touch, her breathing growing shallow with anticipation and need.

Her voice cracked as she begged, “Please.” One of her hands reached out, desperate to grab your free hand. But the freckled girl’s weak pleas met deaf ears; it wasn’t enough for you, she could do better. Her moss-green eyes pleaded with you as she watched your thumb trace small circles on her hip, keeping her in place.

Your lips brushed against the sensitive flesh of her inner thighs, teasing her mercilessly, your touch intentionally calculated to drive her wild. You knew exactly how to play your cards right, how to play her like a finely tuned instrument, and it amused you how easy it was to reduce her to a quivering, whiny mess. But you relished in her simplicity, in how the smallest actions could ignite such a strong reaction from her.

“Please,” Ellie’s breaths came in small, shuddered gasps, her chest rising and falling rapidly with each inhale and exhale. Her mind was filled with nothing but you and how you made her feel. “Please, please, I missed you.” Her words’ raspy, vulnerable tone was like music to your ears, pleasing your ego at the knowledge that she depended on you, that she was putty in your hands. Her vulnerability only highlighted how completely she was under your control, and the feeling was flattering and exhilarating. The auburnette submitted to you so easily, without questioning it or fighting back; it was cute, really. She let you play with her body however, whenever, and wherever you liked.

“Missed me, yeah?” You smirked at her, your voice dripping with confidence as you cooed softly.

Ellie didn’t even need to confirm it to you. You could see how much she had missed you, how much she had craved your touch and sweet lies. The freckled girl melted in your arms the second you drove to her house after hours of begging to see you. She needed to see you, needed to feel you, kiss you, touch you. Her heart skipped a beat as her gaze met yours, your eagerness for her evident in every line and muscle of your body. She felt wanted, desired, and important whenever she was in your presence, and the feeling was addictive. Perhaps that was what she loved the most about being with you—the feeling of being so completely desired, so utterly needed. She found herself questioning if anyone had ever made her feel this way before. Certainly not her ex-girlfriends (or situationships); they paled in comparison to how you made her feel. You had the ability to make her feel like a teenager in love for the first time again, like a virgin exploring uncharted territory.

“Couldn’t get off without your help,” Ellie’s voice was soft and vulnerable as she confessed her weakness for you, the pout on her face almost making your heart lurch.

“Such a fucking needy slut,” You chuckled dryly, your eyes focused intently on her, drinking in her every reaction as if she was the most fascinating thing you’d ever seen. She was sprawled out before you, all spread out and vulnerable, her core glistening with arousal and your spit, begging for your touch, yet not giving her what she craved the most.

“Please, I need you.” She pleaded one last time, her voice soft and desperate, her body trembling as your thumb began to tease her aching bud. A stifled moan escaped her lips as the pleasure washed over her, causing her to gasp in response.

“You all good up there?” You taunted her, struggling to contain a small chuckle at her frustration. Her freckled face was flushed, her cheeks tinted with a blush that betrayed her embarrassment. You had barely even touched her, and yet she was already losing her shit, her body responding eagerly to your every caress.

“Yeah, just…” The auburnette’s throat bobbed as she swallowed, trying with all her might to hold back the lewd noises that threatened to escape.

“Just?” you prompted, your fingers continuing to move over her sensitive folds, feeling her slickness. You began to rub at her entrance, making her squirm and moan; she had been craving your touch and attention so much that it almost made her insane. “Fuck, look at you, baby girl.” you husked under your breath. “So needy for me.” It was downright lewd how drenched Ellie was for you, her pink pussy glistened with pearly precum, making your mouth water at the sight. It was like homemade chocolate chip cookies, the kind that could make anyone salivate, especially when they were still warm and the aroma of sweetness filled the air. She had the same exact effect on you. She tasted exquisite, and you just couldn't get enough, always craving more of her, just like she craved more of you.

Ellie’s breath hitched as your middle finger teased her entrance, moving painfully slow. She could tell you were doing it on purpose. You were never known for your patience, but you were taking your sweet time with her, making her feel every little movement. The sensations were overwhelming, and she knew you were doing it intentionally to drive her crazy. “M-more… nghh… fuck.” Her back arched in response, her hand gripping yours tightly as she desperately tried to push her hips further down onto your fingers.

Your eyes were glued to her starved cunt and the way your finger disappeared into her so easily, swallowing it shamelessly; her warm walls pulsated around your digit, and tiny, little puffs of breath escaped her lips as she struggled to hold herself together. Every breath she took strained with the effort to keep herself composed, her face a beautiful contradiction of desire and restraint.

“You weren’t lying, huh? You really did miss me.” You chuckled, amused, the circles on her clit growing faster as your finger moved slowly in and out of her, maintaining a steady, teasing rhythm.

“I wasn’t,” Ellie said breathlessly, as if a powerful force had drained all the breath away from her.

You smirked at her confirmation; she depended on you as much as you depended on every little sound she let out for you, urging you to go on. It was what replayed in your head whenever you finger-fucked your own needy hole, clenching her name around your fingers. You had missed her so much. You missed the feeling of her cunt spasming around your fingers, the high-pitched and persistent mewls that came with her impending orgasm, the arch of her back, her abdomen tensing and contracting whenever you fucked her way too fast for her to keep up.

“What about the nudes I sent you, hm?” you questioned, your voice as soft as cotton, caressing all her senses like some melody that haunted her every dream.

Her breaths came in shallow gasps, each one a plea, a prayer for more. The sight of the freckled girl—so vulnerable, so open—stirred something primal within you. You watched how her body responded to your touch, how her skin flushed and her muscles tensed under your fingertips. The slick heat of her, the way she pulsated around your finger, was intoxicating.

Ellie remembered the late nights, alone in her bed, your photos lighting up her screen. The way she’d trace the curves of your body with her eyes, imagining her hands in their place. The way she’d whisper your name, a litany of desire, as she plunged her fingers into her own wet heat, pretending it was you. But even then, it wasn’t enough.

Those fantasies paled in comparison to reality.

“Fucking slut… did you touch yourself thinking of me?” you murmured, your voice a low purr that sent shivers down her spine. “Did you imagine my fingers inside you, like this?”

Her response was a choked moan, her hips rocking against your hand, seeking more. You pressed a kiss to her thigh, your breath hot against her skin, savoring the way she writhed under your touch.

She gasped as you added another finger, complying with her silent request for more. “Needed m- ahhh… more than—” words failed her as you began to pump them in and out of her faster, her legs twitching each time you brushed that spongy spot inside her just to make her little brain go blank. What a brainless fucking whore.

“Than what? Finish your sentence, sweetheart. What do you need from me?” Your voice was a perfect and deadly mix of sultriness and honey sweetness.

“Needed you to fuck me,” Ellie’s voice turned whiny and high-pitched, sounding like she was about to cry. She sighed complacently when you slammed your fingers deeper inside her in response. She had truly been trying to get off to your pictures, your tits out of your black lacy bra for her to see, but it wasn’t enough. All she could think about was the aching absence of your touch and how desperately she longed to lay her dirty hands on your sacred body. It hit her then that she was utterly ruined, unable to get off without your assistance anymore; you had thoroughly spoiled her and her body, and her mind had been reprogrammed to crave you for every desire, however big or small.

“Like this, yeah?” A frenetic nod was all you got in return. Your glistening fingers continued their relentless movements, and your thumb flicked her puffy clit.

Each pump drew a curse from her. Her breaths were shallow gasps punctuated by moans that seemed to come from the depths of her soul. You could feel her inner walls contracting around your fingers, her slick heat enveloping you in a way that made your own core ache.

“Fuck… close?” Her response was a breathless sob, freckled body arching off the bed as her orgasm built, a storm gathering strength. You could see it in the way her muscles tensed, the way her breaths came faster, more erratic.

“Please,” she begged, barely more than a breathy whisper. “Please, I need—”

“I know, baby. I know.” Your thumb circled her clit with a newfound intensity, your fingers curling inside her just right, hitting her g-spot with precision. “Come for me.”

The auburnette’s eyelids fluttered shut and her head fell back into the soft embrace of her light blue pillow. You marveled at the expression of blissful ecstasy dancing across her face, watching her lips form incoherent words that echoed through the room. With a final, shuddering cry, she came apart, her body shaking with the force of her orgasm. Her inner walls pulsed around your fingers, her juices coating your hand as you worked her through it, drawing out every last bit of pleasure, making every moment last longer, leaving her wholly spent and utterly satiated.

When all her nectar coated your fingers, you gently withdrew your digits, eager to taste her. The taste was rather divine, like nothing you had ever tasted, a taste uniquely hers. Something you couldn’t quite find anywhere else. “You taste delicious,” you commented with a sly smile.

Ellie was winded and her face glistening with a sheen of sweat, dilated pupils fixing on yours as she tried to catch breath, her parted lips letting puffs of air in and out, unevenly. “Do I?”

“Hmm-hmm,” you hummed, crawling on top of her and settling into her lap. She lazily wrapped her arms around your waist, her damp, freckled back sticking against the headboard as she sat up slightly. The soft sheets rustled beneath you, adding to the moment’s intimacy.

Your eyes locked, an intense connection sparking between you. Ellie’s gaze seemed to drown in your irises, captivated by every little sparkle, every shade and discolored spot. A stupidly soft smile spread across her face, as if she were staring at the most precious thing in her life. The room seemed to fade away, leaving just the two of you in this shared bubble of affection.

“You’re so pretty, y’know that?” Her voice was like a gentle whisper, with a hint of raspiness as she delicately tucked a stray piece of hair behind your ear. Her touch sent a shiver down your spine.

You hummed at her words, a playful smirk curling your lips. “Yeah, I get that quite a lot.”

The auburnette scoffed in mock disbelief, her brows arching dramatically. “Oh really? Who dared to compliment my girl, hm?” Feigning jealousy, she pulled you closer by your waist. “Gonna have to beat them up,” she muttered sarcastically under her breath, her tone light and teasing.

You couldn’t help but giggle softly, the sound mingling with the moment’s warmth. Ellie’s playful protectiveness only made your heart swell more, and you leaned in, your foreheads touching.

She pulled you flush against her, your bare chest sticking to hers, the sweat covering her body almost acting as a glue binding you together. Her face nestled into the crook of your neck, deeply inhaling your scent as she closed her eyes, leaving a trail of soft kisses along your skin.

“Hmm… what’re you doing?” you whispered, melting into her touch.

“Tryna make you feel good—can’t I make my favorite girl feel good?” Her voice was a hushed murmur against your neck, a blend of warmth and affection. A small, breathy laugh was all you could manage in response, tilting your head slightly to give her better access. Her hands wandered up and down your sides, leaving a tingling path in their wake.

“You sure your dad won’t be home anytime soon?” you asked, a hint of nervousness lacing your voice as you tried to pull away. Each time you leaned back, she’d draw you closer, unwilling to let go.

“He won’t be until tomorrow,” she muttered between the kisses she peppered along your neck, “Relax and let me take care of you.” Her lips slowly trailed up your jaw, finally capturing yours in a sweet, lingering kiss, pouring all her feelings into it. Her hands pulled you close with a hunger that spoke of a desire to absorb you, to make you a part of her very being.

Your eyes fluttered shut, arms wrapping around her neck as you lost yourselves in the kiss.

One of your hands found its way to her little bun, fingers playing and gently tugging at it. The kiss was slow and tender, a stark contrast to the usual fervor you shared. It felt as if the world around you had shifted, the atmosphere turning more intimate, echoing the same familiar yet foreign sensation that had enveloped you that afternoon in the shower.

A moan reverberated against the freckled girl’s lips, resonating like a tender symphony, compelling her to savor its melody, to capture it and make it her own. Yet, an insatiable yearning gnawed at her core, craving something deeper, something beyond the mere physical.

When you parted, breathless and hearts pounding in synchrony, the connection between your gazes transformed the moment into an eternal tableau.

“Will you let me take control this time?” Ellie mumbled, her voice soft as silk, her words a delicate caress that brushed against your senses like the first light of dawn. A smile played on her perfect, heart-shaped lips, a subtle curve that promised both mischief and tenderness.

“Hey, it’s not my fault you’re a pillow princess,” you teased, a smirk tugging at your mouth, the playful jab rolling off your tongue with ease.

Ellie’s eyes sparkled with amusement, softly gasping as if you’d just said the most outrageous thing. "I am not!" she protested, her jaw dropping in a show of mock indignation, though the laughter in her eyes gave her away.

“Are so,” you shot back, not missing a beat.

She shook her head, a pout forming as she defended herself, her voice laced with a mix of defiance and a touch of longing. “You never let me take control,” she countered, eyebrows arching as she tried to make her point.

“As if you’ve ever tried,” you quipped, your smirk widening, knowing exactly how to push her buttons.

“I did try, you just never let me,” she insisted, her tone soft yet pointed, like she was stating an undeniable truth. “You always push me down and do whatever,” she added, her words tinged with just the right amount of accusation.

“Maybe you didn’t try hard enough,” you challenged, the playful edge in your voice unmistakable as the banter continued to flow between you, each word filled with barely contained desire.

Her brows shot up, eyes gleaming with the thrill of the challenge. “Oh, is that so?” Ellie smirked, accepting the unspoken dare. Without missing a beat, she shifted you onto her thigh, her hands firm but gentle as she guided you, ensuring that her thigh was perfectly placed between your own.

“Is that it? You want me to ride your thigh?” you chuckled, a playful glint in your eyes as the absurdity of the situation hit you, making you bite back a laugh.

“C’mon, cowgirl, show me your moves,” she teased, her tone lighthearted, yet there was an undeniable heat beneath her words. Her hands guided your hips, encouraging you to move against her, the friction deliciously teasing, her comical words pulling a soft laugh from you.

“Cowgirl?” you echoed, amusement threading through your voice as your hands found their place on her shoulders for balance. Slowly, you began to move, a back-and-forth rhythm building, her toned thigh pressing against your most sensitive spot.

“Well, I don’t have a strap yet, so…” the redhead offered with a playful shrug, her nonchalance almost comical in its delivery.

“Yet?” you repeated, your eyebrow arching as curiosity piqued, the simple word holding a world of possibilities.

“Mhm, yet,” she confirmed with a sly smile, her hands tightening on your hip bones, pressing you down onto her thigh with just the right amount of pressure. The heat of her skin against your wetness sent a shiver up your spine, her own breath hitching at the intimate contact.

That’s why she never took control—because, as much as she wanted to, you made her weak in the knees, her heart race, and her breath catch in her throat.

As you rocked against her, a muffled whimper escaped your lips, a sound she drank in like the sweetest melody, and for a moment, the room was filled with nothing but your breathless sighs, your shared laughter, and the electric tension between you, growing hotter with every passing second.

“Does it feel good, yeah?” Ellie whispered, her face so close to yours that your breaths mingled, a shared warmth in the small space between you.

“Yeah, you feel good,” you murmured back, her green eyes utterly captivated by the rhythm of your hips as they rolled against her. You didn’t need her to guide you, every movement was instinctual, as natural as breathing. Her breath caught in her throat, almost as if she were the one trying to get off on your thigh, mesmerized by the glistening trail you left behind.

“Fuck, look at that,” she breathed out, her voice thick with awe and desire.

Immaculate mewls spilled from your lips as her hands tightened on your hips, urging you to move faster, her fingers digging into your skin like she never wanted to let you go. “Just like that… atta girl,” the red-brown-haired girl encouraged, her words a soothing balm that only stoked the fire burning in your belly.

You leaned into her, your breasts pressing against her chest, your face nuzzling into the crook of her neck, seeking her out like a lifeline. Ellie responded in kind, her lips finding the beauty marks on your shoulders, kissing them as if tracing an invisible constellation only she could see. Your breathy moans, warm and desperate, hit the back of her neck, sending shivers cascading down her spine, weakening her resolve with each shaky exhale.

“You feel so good,” you purred in her ear, your voice sweet yet intoxicating, like honey laced with something dangerous. Your breath tickled that sensitive spot behind her ear, goosebumps erupting on her skin as butterflies danced wildly in her stomach. Feeling your heat seep into her, feeling you so close, so alive against her—she knew she’d never get enough of you.

“So does your pussy... all wet for me,” she rasped out, pulling you even closer, as if trying to merge your bodies into one. Your ragged breathing was like music to her ears, each pant and whimper a testament to how perfectly she was taking care of you. You continued to grind against her thigh, the tension in your lower abdomen coiling tighter with each roll of your hips, your clit moving in a maddening rhythm that made you whimper against her freckled skin.

“Fuck…” you breathed out, the word slipping from your lips like a prayer. “All wet for you,” you echoed absentmindedly, the urgency in your movements growing, driven by the mounting pressure, each second pulling you closer to the edge. Your fingers tangled in her red hair, tightening as your eyes fluttered shut, your breaths growing more erratic.

Watching you ride her like this was the hottest thing Ellie had ever seen. It made her pulse quicken and her thoughts spiral into fantasies—fantasies of you riding her strap instead, making you tremble like a leaf, scream her name in ecstasy. She wondered if your sinful moans and cries would haunt her dreams every night; it seemed like a plausible fate.

“Mine… alllll mine,” she murmured in your ear, her hands tracing your sides with a tenderness that belied the intensity of the moment, holding you as if you were something precious and fragile, something that could shatter at any moment.

Your soft gasps were like a tantalizing torture, making her sage-hued eyes roll back in bliss. You were so addictive, and she was like an addict, desperate for every sound, every breath you gave her. “Hmm, yeah,” you whispered breathlessly back, your voice mindless yet so full of emotion, causing her heart to flip and twist in ways she never thought possible.

Ellie gently cupped your chin, turning your face toward hers, never once stopping the hypnotic roll of your hips. Her thumb pressed lightly against your chin, holding you there, your eyes locked onto hers, sharing a silent conversation only the two of you could understand.

“God, you’re so fucking beautiful,” she husked, her words like a spell, and you were powerless against them. Your gaze fell to her lips, mesmerized by the way they formed each tender word. She leaned in, kissing you softly but with a passion that ignited every nerve in your body. It was strange and new, yet it felt like something that was always meant to happen.

Her freckled arms wrapped around your waist, pulling you closer, and your arms looped around her neck, holding her as if letting go would mean losing everything. Your hips never stopped moving, the rhythm growing more frantic, your ragged breaths mingling, creating an orchestral piece of pure, unfiltered desire.

And then, the tension inside you snapped, sending shockwaves through your body. It was an explosion, not just of pleasure, but of everything Ellie had tried to keep buried, every emotion you had stirred up in her. You pulled away from the kiss, gasping for air, both from the intensity of your climax and the kiss that had stolen your breath away. Your damp foreheads pressed together, her eyes boring into yours, one of her hands trailing over your body, touching you with a familiarity that sent shivers down your spine.

“Fuck, Ellie…” Your voice cracked and trembled, a raw, visceral expression of the overwhelming pleasure that had just consumed you.

“I love you.” Three words, so simple and yet so difficult to say out loud. Ellie hadn’t realized she’d let them slip out until your movements halted, a look of confusion veiling your face.

The sound of heavy breathing—the aftereffects of your activity—filled the room. You were still trying to recover, your body still trembling with euphoria, and the words had become lost in the maelstrom of the intense orgasm. Ellie’s heart felt like a wild animal, a gazelle on the plains of the Serengeti, drumming relentlessly against her ribcage as she waited for your response, anxiously anticipating what you would say next, the tension in the air thick like the humidity in a dense rainforest.

“What?” You asked the question in a meek, quiet voice, your breathing harsh and labored. It was as if life had drained from your face, leaving only a shell of shock and disbelief behind.

There was absolute silence in the air, everything frozen in that moment. Ellie couldn’t even hear her heartbeat; it felt like time had come to a standstill. Everything seemed to move either unbearably slowly or excruciatingly fast, leaving her overwhelmed and out of control.

“Uh… I—” Ellie’s words stumbled and stuck in her throat as she tried to repeat the three simple words again. She could feel a palpable shift in the air around you, a barrier going up between you despite your physical closeness.

For a brief moment, vulnerability flickered across your face, your eyes bare and exposed to her gaze, as though you had let your guard down and allowed her to see through you. But the mask quickly returned, your features hardening once more. You slowly withdrew from her thigh, sitting beside her instead, exhaling deeply, a look of disbelief etched on your face. The cinnamon-haired girl watched as your lips parted and your eyelids fluttered shut, knowing that you were trying to make sense of her confession and formulate a response. She held her breath, hoping you would tell her that you felt the same, that you longed for a serious relationship and were ready to take that next step together. But the words that slipped out of your mouth were the opposite of what she was expecting, leaving her heart sinking in her chest.

“I can’t.” Your head shook slightly, a nonverbal “no” that sent a shiver down Ellie’s spine. Her heart plummeted, as though it had leaped off the edge of a towering cliff only to smash into a million pieces upon impact. Her eyes widened in disbelief, and the air was knocked from her lungs as the reality of your rejection sank in.

“Can’t what?” Her voice sounded hoarse and strained as she somehow managed to speak, her forest-green eyes clouded with the beginnings of tears as she fixated on your bare back, watching with trepidation as you quickly and almost frantically dressed, one piece of clothing after another being pulled on.

Your body momentarily froze as you searched your mind for the right words, an explanation to fill the terrible silence. But you came up empty, your mind consumed by a rising panic, numbing your thoughts and leaving you speechless. You spoke in a cold, sharp voice, your back still turned towards her, “Do this.” The air between you was heavy with tension and despair, your emotional state written clearly on your face, even if she couldn't see it directly.

“Wha- I... but…” Ellie struggled to articulate her thoughts, her mind grappling with conflicting emotions and confusion. Each attempt to form a coherent question or sentence ended in a frustrating tangle of words. The powerful connection that had enveloped her just moments before had vanished, leaving her bewildered and lost in its absence. How was a shift like that possible? Did you not feel it too?

“I don’t understand,” Her voice quivered and cracked as she forced the words out, her body rigid and her muscles tense as she fought to keep the tears at bay. She knew she couldn’t show any vulnerability in front of you, couldn’t let you see how much this was hurting her. Maybe it was just fear getting in the way, maybe there was still a chance for her to sway your decision by talking it out, to make you change your mind. The freckled girl couldn’t shake the feeling that she was trapped in a surreal nightmare, as if none of this was real. She had just bared her soul to you, trusted you with her innermost thoughts and feelings—things she had never shared with anyone else—and now she was consumed by a sense of violation, as if she had exposed too much of herself and in doing so, made herself vulnerable and annoying. She felt disgusted with herself, like she had crossed a line and done something wrong, leaving an acrid taste in her mouth.

“It can’t work,” Your voice was calm, detached, and filled with distance. The redhead watched as you pulled on your shirt, your gaze fixed on the wall of her room, where wrinkled space posters hung. Your composure was icy and uncaring, as if you had been waiting impatiently for the right moment to destroy the fragile bubble of illusion she had constructed with your lies.

Her eyes roamed your face, searching desperately for a trace of the affection she had felt before, but all she saw was an emotionless mask. Her mind whirled, trying to make sense of the abrupt shift in your demeanor. Every ounce of her being longed to reach out and pull you back, to force you to see what you were throwing away. But she was paralyzed, rooted in place by the weight of your words. She had bared her soul to you, and now she was left exposed, raw, and broken.

The silence in the room thickened, growing heavy and oppressive like a massive storm cloud preparing to let loose. It was a stifling stillness, pressing down on both of you, forcing the air from your lungs and leaving each breath shallow, each word unspoken, lost in the thick atmosphere. Ellie’s forest-green, glassy eyes flicked to you, a desperate pleading in her gaze, like a sailor stranded at sea hoping to spot a flicker of a distant lighthouse, a guide through the dark waters of her impeding breakdown. But your gaze remained distant, fixed on a horizon only you could see, your movements deliberate, devoid of the tenderness that once made her believe in the magic between you.

“…Why?” Her voice was delicate and fragile, barely audible above a whisper. It trembled like a leaf in the wind, “Why can’t it work? We’re so good together. I thought—”

“Oh, please.” The venom in your voice lashed out, sharp and biting, each word dripping with contempt. “Don’t act like you don’t know. This was never supposed to be anything serious. You should have known better.” The words left your lips with a hollow ring, the warmth that the auburnette once craved in your voice now frozen over, an icy detachment that chilled her to the bone.

Tears gathered and spilled over in her eyes, creating a blurry haze that distorted the world around her and your form. The room seemed to whirl before her as her heart crumbled under the burden of your apathy. She struggled to comprehend how you could be so careless. “But-” Her voice faltered, a delicate whisper that fractured under the pressure of the painful reality she found herself grappling with. You had ensnared her like a tarantula, trapping her in an intricate web of deceit and manipulation from which there seemed to be no escape.

You sighed, the sound heavy with impatience, rolling your eyes as if the sound of her heart breaking was nothing more than an inconvenience. “God, Ellie, do you really not get it? It was just sex. Fun while it lasted, but nothing more. I can’t believe you got so attached.” Your words were sharp like swords, each one slicing through the fragile, translucent dreams she had so painstakingly woven around you, leaving deep, bleeding gashes in the delicate fabric of her hopes and illusions. She had been so stupid. “Just a summer fling, an experiment,” You added casually, your tone flat and uncaring.

Ellie’s heart crumbled further, the sharp edges of your words cutting deeper than she ever thought possible. Each syllable felt like salt combined with the strongest alcohol ever on an open wound, the reality of your apathy sinking in. “You don’t mean that,” She pleaded with you, her words carrying the weight of desperate hope, as if grasping onto a rope that could keep her from drowning in the harsh reality. “We were so good together. I felt it. I know you did, too.”

Your lips curled into a sneer, a cruel twist that mocked her naivety. “You really are naive, aren’t you? There was never anything between us, Ellie. I was just bored, and you were convenient,” you scoffed, the derision in your voice felt like a kick in her stomach, the emotional pain becoming physical. “And easy, you were so easy… and so fucking gullible.” The smirk that followed was a bitter slash across her soul, a cruel reminder of how carelessly you had toyed with her emotions. Of how carelessly you had toyed with plenty of people before her. This was a mere game to you, and you couldn’t give two fucks of all the broken pieces you always left behind.

How could someone so incredibly beautiful and captivating exude such emptiness within?

Salty tears streamed down her freckled cheeks, her chest tightening with a tumultuous mix of heartbreak and disbelief. The weight of your betrayal felt like a ton of bricks, crushing the hope she had clung to so desperately. You had never been any different from what the others claimed. “But I love you,” she repeated, her voice cracking under the strain of her agony. “Does that mean anything to you?”

You laughed, a sound lacking any warmth or joy, more like the cold echo of a cavernous emptiness inside you. “Honestly? No, it doesn’t. Did you think this was going to turn into some grand romance? Come on, grow up.” It shocked the auburnette how you could effortlessly shift from being warm and kind to completely cold and unsympathetic. It was like watching you switch personalities as easily as changing costumes in a theater, all to your convenience. Adapting and shapeshifting to your liking. “Love doesn’t exist. It’s just a fairytale for people who can’t handle reality.”

Ellie shook her head as if trying to shake off the unfiltered reality you were laying before her, throwing at her in such a callous manner that it left her breathless. Tears cascaded down like a relentless downpour, drenching the delicate, freckled canvas of her flushed cheeks. She held on desperately to the fading remnants of what she believed to be true, “I—I thought we had something real,” She was barely whispering, her voice fragile and on the verge of completely breaking down. Her bottom lip quivered, and that pouty expression on her face tugged at your heartstrings, making it hard to go through with this. But you knew it was something you had to do. It was necessary.

“You thought wrong,” you said with a dismissive wave of your hand, as if casting aside a trivial matter. “And if you had any sense, you’d have figured that out by now. Get real. I never promised you anything beyond what we had.”

Ellie stood up, her legs trembling as she tried to steady herself against the emotional hurricane tearing through her. “I trusted you. I opened up to you. And now you’re just discarding me like I’m nothing?”

You nonchalantly lifted your shoulders in a dismissive gesture, causing her stomach to clench as if the bond you once shared was now as inconsequential as a discarded piece of trash carried away by the wind. “I didn’t ask you to fall for me.”

She stared at you, her eyes desperately searching yours for any trace of the person she thought she had come to understand, but you weren’t there. “I thought you were different.”

“Well, I’m not. I never claimed to be something I’m not.” Your heartrending words landed the critical strike, causing her to lock away her pain deep within. It festered there, leaving behind deep, ugly scars. She wondered if she would ever be able to heal from the emotional wounds you inflicted. Not even when she broke up with her ex-girlfriend, Cat, did she feel this way.

“You know what?” Ellie’s voice quivered with raw emotion, yet remained steadfast and resolute. The ache in her heart was gradually being consumed by a smoldering, intense anger, “You’re right. I should have seen this coming. But don’t you dare pretend like you didn’t play a part in this. You let me believe something that wasn’t real.” Her voice quivered with emotion, the barely contained anger struggling to hold back the flood of tears that threatened to engulf her beautiful moss-colored eyes once more. “You said you needed time, that eventually, you’d feel ready to…” She halted mid-sentence, realization sinking in. The promises she had once clung to, the words you had whispered in sweet moments of closeness and intimacy, all of it was nothing but a frail illusion you had woven around her to shield her from the bitter and ugly truth. You had never been genuine, always sidestepping, always evading her attempts at sincere connection.

“I never said that,” you stated in a chilly, detached manner, completely lacking any trace of the warmth typically associated with the girl she was infatuated with. It seemed absurd to her. After all, it was still you, but you were revealing your true self. This was the same true self that everyone had cautioned her about, the central figure in all the rumors she had heard. They weren’t falsehoods. They were all painfully real. It was a shame that she was only realizing this now, after falling for your ass.

“Don’t you dare pull that shit on me,” The auburnette growled, her finger pointed at you in an accusatory manner, and she struggled to mask the hurt that was tearing her apart piece by piece.

You averted your gaze, unwilling to meet her eyes any longer; you knew that her words held the truth. You had led her on, selfishly used her to fulfill your own needs and desires, without a care in the world for the trauma and pain you’d leave in her. But deep down, beneath the cold facade you maintained, you couldn’t deny that this moment was tearing you apart as well. Even though you tried to fool yourself, to convince yourself that you didn’t care about her at all, you knew in your heart that it was a lie. You couldn’t ignore the sharp pang of guilt and regret that tugged at your chest like a persistent child pleading for attention. Your heart clamored for acknowledgment, drowning out the rational thoughts, urging you to stay and face the situation rather than retreat like a coward. It swore that things would be different this time, that she could be trusted. But you couldn’t bring yourself to believe it.

“Whatever. I’m done here.” You walked to the door, pausing for a fleeting moment. Turning back to her, your eyes seemed empty. Your voice sounded almost mechanical, having become accustomed to this repetitive cycle, trapped in an endless loop. You found someone new, they became attached, and just as you started to feel something, you would withdraw. “Don’t call me. Don’t text me. We’re done here.”

Ellie’s breath caught in her throat as your words sank in. The tears the auburnette had been holding back spilled over, but she forced herself to stand tall, her voice trembling as she struggled to keep herself composed. “Trust me, I won’t. I don’t ever want to see you again,” she promised, trying to sound firm and unaffected, but both of you knew it was far from the truth. She longed to run after you, to plead for you to stay, to not leave her, but she refused to give you the satisfaction of seeing her vulnerable and in desperate need of you. You had already seen enough of her; she had already made herself look like a fool yet that didn’t stop you from stomping on her fragile heart.

“Good.”

And with that, you were gone, leaving behind only the ghost of what could have been, and the shattered pieces of her heart, leaving her alone with the echo of her own heartbreak. The door clicked shut behind you, the sound reverberating through the silence.

Ellie collapsed onto the bed, clutching a fluffy pillow to her chest, tears cascading down her face. The room seemed to chill, the absence of your presence amplifying the feeling of loneliness. She buried her face in the softness of the pillow, her tears leaving damp patches on the fabric. It was as if a part of her had been forcibly wrenched away, leaving a raw, throbbing emptiness that felt impossible to soothe. She clutched at her chest, the emotional anguish translating into a physical ache. Breathing became a struggle as her chest tightened, making it hard to draw in a full breath.

Hours passed in a haze of anguish and despair, her tears eventually tapering off, leaving her feeling empty and exhausted. She lay there, fixating on the stars plastered on her ceiling. The weight of your absence felt like the entire solar system had collapsed upon her, crushing her under the immensity of her grief and sorrow. She was pinned down, each star on her ceiling twinkling mercilessly, mocking her pain with their cheap radiant light.

She reached for her phone, her fingers quivering with a mixture of longing and pain as she typed out a message she knew she could never send: “I miss you already.”

Each keystroke felt like a betrayal of her own heart, an act of masochism as the words coalesced on the screen. The message lingered on the screen, an undelivered declaration of heartbreak, a painful confession trapped within the confines of a glowing screen.

She loathed herself for her own weakness, her own vulnerability towards you. She desperately craved a person who didn’t have the slightest care in the world for her, someone who could so easily discard her without a second thought. She could almost hear Dina’s voice in her head, scolding her for being so fucking stupid and naive, telling her to get her shit together and forget about you altogether—maybe after suggesting to burn your whole house down. But her heart ached with a yearning that couldn’t be so easily dismissed, leaving her feeling lost, pathetic, and wholly powerless. She knew deep down that if you came back she’d be welcoming you with open arms, like none of this had happened.

The words etched on the screen seemed to sneer at her, a cruel reminder of her impotence. She couldn’t change your mind and most importantly… she couldn’t change you.

With a trembling hand, she erased the message, then tossed the phone aside, curling up into a tight ball on the bed. Exhaustion eventually took over, pulling her into a restless sleep. But even in her dreams, she was haunted by you, a phantom pain that followed her even in the realm of sleep, leaving her tormented and unable to truly escape reality.

The next morning, the sun beamed through the blinds, slicing through the room like a laser, bright and unforgiving. Ellie dragged herself upright in bed, feeling the weight of exhaustion bearing down on her like a heavy blanket. Every part of her felt burdened, as if the weariness had seeped into her bones, settling there as a constant reminder of the emptiness that had taken root in her heart. You had completely destroyed her and she wished she could bring herself to hate you for it, but she couldn’t; no matter how hard she tried.

She moved slowly, each action a deliberate fight against the numbness that threatened to overtake her. Getting dressed felt like going through the motions of a life she no longer recognized. The world outside her window seemed darker, as if the sun itself had dimmed in response to her loss. She knew she had to keep going, force herself to take one step, then another, even though every movement felt like trudging through thick, unforgiving mud.

She knew she had to erase you from her mind, from every little corner where you had once lived. The freckled girl stopped showing up to work, leaving Dina to be the one to tell you she was quitting. It was childish, she knew that, but the idea of facing you, of seeing you, was too much to bear. She knew that if she saw you, she would crumble, her resolve breaking as she begged you to come back, to love her back the way she had believed you once did. Beg you to let her hold you, in her arms, where you belonged. But you didn’t belong to her—if you had, you wouldn’t have left.

Each day that passed by, the redhead was left alone to wrestle with her heartache, a silent and insidious companion that had latched onto her like a parasite, feasting on the very essence of her being. It gnawed at her soul, leeching away her energy and joy, wrapping its cold, inky tendrils around her heart, holding her in an unbreakable ever present embrace of sorrow and despair.

Her friends noticed the shift in her, the way her laughter had disappeared, replaced by a hollow silence. She seemed distant, as if she was there in body but absent in spirit, a ghost of the girl she used to be.

No one knew what was going on inside her mind, no one except Jesse. He had seen the signs, had heard the unspoken words in her silence, but he kept it to himself, pretending not to know what had caused the light in her eyes to fade. Even when Dina couldn’t stop worrying about Ellie, but Jesse held his tongue, protecting the secret of her heartbreak. It was up to Ellie to talk about it to her friends—if she ever wanted to; he was certain that she eventually would, she just needed time.

Even Joel noticed the change in his daughter, the way she no longer found joy in the little things that used to make her smile. The eggs and bacon he made her in the mornings went untouched, her chair at the table often empty. She no longer filled the house with her endless chatter, no longer picked on him for his dad jokes. Instead, she withdrew into herself, isolating in her room or disappearing for hours at a time, leaving him to wonder where she was, who she was with. He had tried to find out, but all his searching had led to dead ends. His sweet girl had become a stranger, slipping away from him, slowly.

Summer, once Ellie’s favorite season, had become a cruel reminder of what she had lost. The warm breeze that used to fill her with a sense of freedom now felt like a mockery, a reminder of the momentary happiness that had slipped through her fingers like grains of sand. She wasn’t sure she’d ever be able to love summer again, not when it was tainted with memories of you. She wasn’t sure if she’d ever get over what happened, the way you had reduced her to nothing while your life carried on, untouched by what you left behind.

She didn’t dare message you. She wasn’t that stupid. Pride held her back, even though the urge to reach out burned like an ember inside her, refusing to die out. You had told her not to, and she had promised she wouldn’t. And so, she kept her distance, even though a part of her hoped you would break the silence. But you never did, and neither did she.

Instead, Ellie focused on erasing every trace of you from her life. She gathered everything that reminded her of you, every small item that held a piece of your memory, and stuffed them into a box. She couldn’t bring herself to throw it away, but she needed them out of sight, out of reach. They were relics of a past she needed to forget.

The auburnette collapsed onto her bed, pulling her sketchbook into her lap. The pages felt heavy in her hands, filled with drawings that now only brought her pain. With a deep breath, she began tearing them out, each rip a cathartic release of the anger that had been building up like a lego tower right beneath her apathetic surface. Sketches of you, peaceful in sleep, your face lit with a smile or lost in thought, fell around her like leaves in autumn, each one a reminder of how deeply she had loved you. How deeply she had fooled herself.

Ellie’s hands paused as she reached the last page. There, among the sketches of you, was a drawing she hadn’t made. It was of her asleep, her features soft and unguarded. She recognized your handwriting at the bottom of the page, the words you had scrawled there while she was sleeping in her bed, unaware of your restless state that night.

“You’re such a creep. But a cute one. :P P.S. your snoring sounds like a horde of angry, sleep-deprived dinos.”

The storm of anger that had driven her to tear apart her sketchbook faded, replaced by a wave of sadness so intense it took her breath away. Her fingers traced the lines of the drawing, the tenderness in each stroke, the way you had captured her as you saw her, not as she saw herself. You have made her beautiful. You had seen something in her that she had never seen in herself. Her vision blurred as tears welled up, spilling onto the page, dampening the paper. She hadn’t even realized she was crying until a sob broke free, wracking her body with the force of her grief.

She slammed the sketchbook shut, tossing it aside as if it could rid her of the memories that clung to her like thorns. Her hands flew to her face, muffling the cries that echoed in her chest, the screams she was too broken to release. She buried her face in her palms, her body shaking with the effort of holding herself together, even as everything inside her was falling apart.

Ellie wished she would never cross paths with you again, the one who had so cruelly ripped her heart apart with the precision of a surgeon and the callousness of a butcher. You had done it without hesitation, without a second thought, leaving her to pick up the jagged pieces of what was once whole. She had begged and prayed, whispered desperate pleas to every deity that would listen, hoping beyond hope that the universe would grant her one mercy: that she would never have to see you again.

But Cupid, in all his twisted irony, had other plans.

To be continued…

629 notes · View notes

01zfan · 8 months

Text

rainy day | l. at

ex!anton x reader | 5.8k words

anton brainrot is literally so real you guys im a victim.

contains: breaking up, resolution, oral (fem. receiving), missionary, soft dom anton if you squint, reader is a pillow princess (good for her)

it was one of the few days during summer where everyone stayed inside. the usual cool breeze that came with the season was replaced with harsh winds that could knock anyone over. the clear sky was replaced with clouds and soon a rain that threatened to flood your city would come.

you loved when it rained. the inclement weather gave you an excuse to stay home and lay in bed all day. you wanted to use this day to recharge—your social battery had been running dangerously low since summer had started. you don’t know if it was because of your recent breakup and everyone taking pity on you but suddenly everyone had plans once it got warmer outside. it didn’t help that your roommate was a dj. giselle spent more time outside than in the apartment, various clubs being her place of work. and being giselle’s roommate came with its perks, you automatically getting to skip the lines to get in because you “know somebody”. you made it your personal mission to exercise this benefit almost every night.

being outside took your mind off the breakup. you couldn’t hear anton’s voice when music blasted in your ears or think about him when you were dancing around. you loved being out, but it started weighing heavy on your bones. between work and seeing your friends, you had been out almost everyday for the past month. you were grateful when you saw that a big storm was coming, like the weather gods wanted you to have a day off.

you don’t remember the last time you were able to lay in bed past 10AM. you wanted to thank the rain that pelted your window and the wind that made your apartment building creak. because of it you got to be underneath the comfort of your sheets. giselle must’ve felt the same way, because this was the first time you had seen her in pajamas relaxing on the couch. you found her laying on the couch in the living room when you went to the kitchen to get some food.

“any plans for today?” you asked giselle sarcastically.

giselle laughed and looked from the television to you.

“probably gonna work on some mixes for upcoming sets.” giselle says.

she turns back on her show and the sound of the television fills the room. you hum in acknowledgment as you open the fridge. you grab some leftovers to put in the microwave. after getting your food you head towards the couch and giselle lets her legs rest on the coffee table so you can sit down.

“grateful for a day off.” you sigh contently.

“oh i bet. you’re like a little party animal now.” giselle laughed.

you sat with giselle for a little bit before retiring back to your bed. giselle did the same as you about half an hour later. you could hear the television in the living room shut off followed by the sound of your roommate closing her door. soon after you could hear the low sound of music coming from giselle’s room as she went through several tracks.

you let yourself relax in bed as rain continued to fall. it came down sideways and in sheets, and you knew it would only be getting worse for the rest of the day.

as you looked outside at the rain, it was hard to not start thinking about anton. when your mind got the chance to slow down, you couldn’t stop it from thinking about him. he loved when it rained too, and loved napping the day away with you too. you had stopped crying about the breakup a long time ago; you knew that first loves were meant to fail. but if you thought about anton for too long or how warm he always felt you could feel a hole start to form in your chest. so you did your best to clear your thoughts and treated the weather outside and giselle’s music as white noise before drifting to sleep.

anton was in your dreams often. you thought it was always unfair how he occupied your mind so heavily he managed to infiltrate your subconscious and dreams. after the breakup it only got worse. sometimes you would dream about him curled up next to you, getting up from the bed just to come right back to you. he would always snuggle into you closely and pull you into his chest. you would dream about him being the little spoon, laughing at how your arms wrapped around his large frame. you would dream about him turning you around to make you the little spoon, bringing a warm hand to trace shapes over your stomach. the mind was an evil thing. there were times when you would wake up in the middle of the night thinking it was real, that anton had come back to you in the middle of the night. but the vacant space on your bed was still empty and cold when you opened your eyes.

although it was painful dreaming about anton when he was no longer in your life, you truthfully wouldn’t have it any other way. you loved dreaming about you two laying on beds of gold or in a meadow running around in the tall grass. the dreams were usually pure and shrouded in a deeper meaning that you couldn’t decipher. but sometimes the dreams were less innocent. this time when you dreamed about anton you dreamed of him above you and panting into your ear while his strong chest was pressed against yours. you could hear the faintest whisper of his voice in your ear and you could see his wet hair sticking to his forehead. you dreamed about anton’s hands holding your hips down and you leaving marks down his back while you took all of him, his dangling chain above your eyes. just as your lips were reaching towards his ear to say something your brain suddenly woke you up, making you shoot up in your bed.

it felt like you woke up from a nightmare the way your body felt all clammy. your chest heaved and you shot a quick look to the empty side of your bed. moving so suddenly didn’t help either and you could feel a headache coming on as your eyes adjusted to the darkness in your room.

after gaining some of your bearings you reached to your bedside table to check the time on your phone. it was eight in the evening. giselle hadn’t stopped mixing her songs, music still coming from her room. you sighed and stretched, not sure how you felt about sleeping the whole day away.

following the aftershocks of your dreams, it was impossible to not think about anton. you regretfully think about him, if he is sleeping right now or if he dreams of you the same way you dream of him. he’s only a phone call or a twenty minute walk in the rain away. you decide against it, the thought of not getting a response scares you away from your phone.

you get out of bed and stretch your limbs again, you can’t deny that the rest was much needed. maybe you would watch something and eat until you got tired again. it would give you time to process your dream, maybe if you thought about it enough you could have another one like that again.

as you round the corner of you room to go into the kitchen you stop dead in your tracks.

you know it’s anton before he turns around. after spending so much time with him, you could probably identify him from his hair, or his voice. you see one of the most obvious of anton’s traits—his broad back that is covered with one of your towels. even if something covers his back you can tell it’s him by muscle memory, something you’re sure will never leave you. but you also know it’s him because who else would be sitting at your kitchen island this late at night. you still can’t control the shock in your voice as you call out his name.

“anton?” you say.

he turns around quickly to face you and his eyes go wide. anton has always been so expressive, every emotion shows on his face in an instant. he gets up from his chair like a reflex but he says nothing, just looking at you from across the room.

“what are you doing here?” you ask.

anton still looks at you without saying anything. it’s like your speech is delayed getting to anton, because it takes him almost five seconds before he swallows to answer your question. during the time it takes for him to speak you see a bouquet of the flowers you like laying on the kitchen island.

“i was riding my bike and i was coming to get the rest of my stuff but i got caught in the rain,” anton swallows again. “giselle let me in.”

anton points to your roommates closed door. it would makes sense that giselle would hear him, she must’ve stayed awake the whole day. music still plays in her room as you turn back to anton.

you are both met with more silence. you know that you should probably kick him out, or scold him for showing up at his ex girlfriends house unannounced. it’s hard to be mad at anton because he used to show up like this when you two were just friends, popping in just to hang out. and you do remember that you both promised the other that nothing would change if you two broke up. it was a lie then and you knew it. you wondered if anton knew it too. you could assume he did by the clenching knuckles at his side, or how he cleared his throat awkwardly.

“i tried to get home i really did but—” anton said.

now it was time for you to clear your throat and reach a hand out to him.

“no i prefer you stay here until the storm dies down.” you say.

you have to force yourself to remember that this isn’t a dream, that anton is real and standing in your kitchen. you want to be a good host and offer him food or ask him if he’s okay but all the words are caught in your throat. instead you gesture to the living room, showing anton it’s okay to step into your apartment further.

you’re sure that his ears tucked into his beanie turn red as he walks over you. he’s slow with his steps, like you’ll change your mind at any moment. you can still hear giselle music coming from her room as you go to sit on the couch.

when anton comes to the opposite end, his eyes find yours. he’s looking to you the whole time, waiting for you to give him the permission to be close to you. anton has always been too nice for his own good, letting you make all the moves and initiatives in the relationship. so he waits for you to nod at him before sitting down on the couch too.

you focus on the sound of rain and giselle’s house music as you look to anton. he looks the same except for his hair that has gotten a little longer. the necklace you got him for his birthday is still around his neck, rested on his chest. you tried not to look at the pendant too hard, because then your eyes would wander to the black shirt that clung to his chest. your mind flashes back to the dream you had of and you have to lightly shake your head to get rid of the image.

“how are things?” he ask you.

you hate that this is what your relationship with anton has come to. he used to be the person you were must comfortable around but now he sits on the opposite end of your couch asking you questions you both know the answer to.

“things are good.” you say.

you think about telling him everything would be better if you guys got back together. you hold it back by picking at the hem of your shorts.

“what about you?” you ask.

you can barely bring yourself to look at anton. you see that he isn’t looking at you either, his eyes focused on your hand that is holding the bottom of your pants. when you move your hand, his eyes stay there as he says nothing.

“i miss you.” anton says. “so much.”

you can feel the couch give underneath anton’s weight as he comes closer to you. the couch dips from you, almost causing your body to lean into anton’s. he bends down to be in your line of sight. you’re forced to look into his large brown eyes as he looks for something in your eyes.

“you miss me too, right?” anton says.

his hands reach for yours and you let him grab them. he squeezes his hands in your palms and you still have to remind yourself this isn’t a dream. anton continues to look at your face while massaging your hands. it keeps you there with him and you know he knows the answer to the question.

“we aren’t together anymore anton.” you whisper.

you know you should pull your hands away, maybe even tell him to leave your apartment. but you can’t bring yourself to do anything to him while he looks at you like that.

“that doesn’t matter. do you even remember why we broke up?” anton asks.

you shake your head; you truthfully can’t remember. you’re sure it was something stupid, something that easily could be fixed. you both were clumsy throughout the whole relationship, so confused why everything felt so different from when you were friends. maybe you two got tired of stumbling through the motions of everything and called it off. but the way anton looks at you makes you want to take everything back and make you try again.

“i want to try again.” anton says.

he shakes your hands slightly to really give emphasis to his words. maybe you keep dreaming about him because you should try again, maybe that’s what your subconscious has been telling you.

“i’ll have to think about it.” you say while nodding slightly.

anton responds to you by smiling. you can’t help but smile too, and you can feel tears that threaten to fall from all the emotions going through you. you can’t stop yourself from bringing anton in for a hug. he pauses only for a second before hugging you back twice as hard. you are happy you’re able to stop yourself from sobbing onto anton’s shirt, but you almost lose it when he rubs up and down your back gently. you go deeper into the crook of his neck and he holds you a little tighter.

“i came in the rain on my bike to be all romantic with flowers but you were knocked out.” anton says into your shoulder.

you start laughing loudly, the image of anton peddling on his dingy little bike through torrential rain. anton finds it funny too, he starts laughing as he goes into the details of him almost driving into a ditch while trying to get to you.

you know you’re both laughing too hard when you hear the music in giselle’s room shut off. you realize that she is basically at her job right now, and you and your ex ex-boyfriend are disturbing her. so you get up from the couch and motion for anton to follow you. he gets up from the couch and rubs his palms on the front of his pants. suddenly he’s the shy anton again, so different from the bold anton that told you he wants to get back together.

anton follows you into your room and you close the door behind him. you don’t move again until you hear giselle’s music turn back on.

you laid down on the bed first. anton stayed in front of your closed door, looking at the you laying on the bed. you can make out his figure even in the darkness of your room, broad and almost as tall as your doorframe. even in your dreams anton doesn’t look this good. you don’t beat away the image of him above with a stick this time, instead you welcome them with open arms as you tap the empty space on your bed.

you watch anton come over to the bed, stopping so he can take off his beanie and jewelry to set on your dresser. it’s just like old times, hearing the familiar sound of his rings landing on the ceramic dish. you wonder if he’ll take off his shirt too. he keeps it on as he lays on the opposite side of your bed.

he didn’t dare to move any closer to you, staying on the other end. you wish you could fold the covers and bring him closer to you, or have anton pull you into his chest like he always did when he spent the night. he was too nice to do move any further, and you realized that nothing would happen if you didn’t make a move first. so you swallowed whatever was holding you back and let your hand glide across the cold sheets towards anton. he turned towards you almost immediately and his hand grabbed your bicep.

anton first lightly tugged your body towards him twice. it was gentle and inviting like he always was. you scooted your body to anton’s, moving only a little across the sheets that separated you two. anton then exerted some of his strength o pull you the rest of the way, wrapping his other arm around your body to bring you into his chest. you laughed at how fast he pulled you across the covers as he tucked your head underneath his chin. he brought his hand that was on your arm to the back of your head—it had been too long since anton surrounded you like this. you nuzzled into his neck and sighed contently.

“we should probably move slow” he said. you could hear the smile on his face.

you hummed in agreement but then moved closer into him. he wrapped his arms tighter around you before kissing your cheek. it was quick and light before anton tucked your head underneath his chin again. you weren’t shocked by the kiss, you were actually beaming at the feeling of his lips on your skin again.

you weren’t sure when you fell back asleep, but it was hard to not doze off with anton like a weighted blanket on you. you could feel the rise and fall of his chest against yours, and hear his quick heartbeat slow down overtime. it was an inexplicable comfort having him behind you and to feel his arms wrapped around your frame.

you didn’t wake up again until well after midnight. the rain still fell and the wind still blew harshly. you woke up in anton’s amrs, curled into his chest to be the little spoon. you had turned at some point during the night, and anton’s hand rested on your stomach to gently trace shapes on your exposed skin. you don’t know how it was possible to miss someone so much.

you turned your body to face anton’s. you found that he was already awake, looking into your eyes with the same look you dreamed about. you closed your eyes as he placed a wet kiss on your cheek. his eyes are still bleary, you imagine he must have woken up around the same time you did. you brush some of his hair out of his face and let him leave a wet kiss on your lips.

“what time is it?” you ask.

“not sure. has to be pretty late though.” he says.

anton sounds distracted as he talks to you. his eyes are on your lips as he puts a hand behind your back so your body arches into him. you can feel how broad and solid anton’s chest is underneath the thin material of his shirt. you lean more into him and instinctively wrap your leg over his to bring him closer. you wrap your arms around his back to press your palms flat on his shoulders.

“i thought you wanted to move slow?” anton says.

he places another wet kiss to your lips before pulling back. you missed the smirk he got on his face when he knew you wanted it. it made you bashful, heat spawning from the places his body touched yours. it blossomed from the small of your back and spread to your finger tips that pressed against anton’s back. the feeling made you lock your leg in place, bringing anton even closer to you.

“we can move slow tomorrow.” you say hastily.

anton comes back to your lips, and you waste no time pushing your tongue into his mouth. anton must be just as desperate as you are the way he lifts you up like you weigh nothing. he almost crushed you in his arms, you have to tap on his shoulder to remind him of his strength.

“sorry.” anton whispers after pulling away from your lips.

his lips are plump and glossy, you run your tongue over yours to try and taste what’s left of him on your skin. you missed kissing his lips until they were red and a little swollen and the way he’d gather you up in your arms when you two made out. you try to get on top of anton but he uses a hand to keep you in place. you let out a little whine at not being able to move, you wanted to show anton how much you really missed him.

anton sits up on your bed to pull his shirt off. he does it with one hand and while he is busy taking off his pants you start to take off your own. as you lift your hips to take off your pants anton stops suddenly.

“wait. don’t move.” he says shyly.

you listen to his weird request, not moving while anton takes off his pants.

when his pants hit the floor anton guides your body to sit up. you do as he says, eyeing him to see what his plan is with you.

“put your arms up.” anton tells you.

his sweet and quiet voice betrays the authoritative words. you listen to him regardless, filling to the brim with excitement of anton telling you what to do.

you lift your arms as anton pulls up your shirt. he does all the work even guiding your arms through the opening of your shirt. anton looks up at you from your collarbone, placing a wet kiss on the taut skin as his hands go to your bra strap. you nod and anton brings both of his hands to your back to unclasp your bra. he is gentle releasing your chest from its confines, his big hands covering the area of your breasts.

no matter how many times anton sees your breasts, his breath is taken away each time. he kneads your doughy skin, lightly gripping a boob to place a kiss directly on the areola. anton missed your content sighs and breathless whimpers when he does things to you. he missed seeing your face crease with pleasure, the way you prop yourself on your arms and lean your head back to feel everything.

“i missed holding you.” he whispers.

anton can’t stop himself from taking a nipple into your mouth. you instantly arch your chest into his mouth, your free hand petting his head.

“i dreamed about this.” you whimper when anton goes to the other breast.

anton guides your body back down to lay on the bed. you lay your head on the pillow, looking down at anton as he trails kisses down your body.

“should’ve called me.” anton says, smiling into your stomach.

you can’t bring yourself to tell him why you couldn’t, something stupid as pride keeping you from feeling pure bliss as anton takes your shorts off. he lifts your hips off the bed all on his own, any more you try to make anton puts a gentle hand on your stomach to keep you in place.

“let me show you how sorry i am.” anton says.

he looks at you with sincerity as he continues pressing kisses to your body. he works down one leg and works his way up the other, even kissing your feet earnestly. anton makes eye contact with you as he presses a kiss to your folds. the contact alone has you lifting your hips off of the bed, trying to chase after the kiss. anton puts a hand underneath your ass to lift your bottom off the bed. you bend your knees until your thighs lightly press against the sides of anton’s head. you are still reeling from the dream you had, you know you won’t last long.

just from the kisses anton gives your pussy you’re lightheaded, gripping the sheets trying not to lose your composure too fast. it’s a lost cause when anton looks up at you again as his thumb starts rubbing your bundle of nerves.

“my little princess,” anton whispers. “you’re sensitive?”

you whimper in response and nod your head. anton sticks his thick middle finger inside of you, bending it once he’s inside all the way. you open your mouth in a silent moan, lifting your hips off the bed even more. anton places a kiss on your thigh.

“just lay there for me,” anton says. “i got you.”

“okay.” you whimper.

anton’s soft voice completely opposes his lewd actions. the way he takes his finger out of you to spread your folds apart. you can barely manage to look down at him as he makes work of your heat, on his hands and knees to get closer inside of you. his nose bumps your clit as he eats you out, alternating between making out with your pussy and sticking his tongue in your slit.

“feels so good anton.” you whimpered. when he hums into your pussy your legs close in on him, locking him in place. “i missed you so much.”

anton starts eating you out with a new vigor. the sound of him slurping and placing sloppy kisses on your cunt fills the room. you can’t stop you hips from bucking into his mouth and anton welcomes it. he guides your legs to rest over his shoulder and sits up slightly on the bed. anton uses his strength to bring your lower half up with him. you can’t stop yourself from grind on anton’s tongue while his arm behind your ass supports your weight. his free hand reaches out to yours and you let go of your hold on the sheets to grip his hand. you are moaning loudly, watching anton watch you.

he is entranced by your tiny cries and the way your heels dig into his back. you look so beautiful like this, not having to do any of the work to get to your peak. anton loves the way you grip his hand with all of your strength. he wants to take a picture of this moment to remember it forever. he wishes he could take a video to immortalize your whiny voice.

“i’m close.” you say.

you turned your head from the bed to look at anton. he goes back to tongue kissing your slit, purposely using his nose to bump your bundle of nerves. this way he can stimulate you adn you can take up all of his five senses.

he loves the way you smell, the way your whole body tenses when you cum unannounced. anton thinks it must’ve hit you like a freight trin the way. you cried out his name and squeezed his head between your thighs. sound is lightly muffled through your plush skin, but he can hear you loud and clear. you will definitely have to apologize to giselle in the morning.

anton takes all of your slick, slurping and getting so messy to the point. that he can feel the dribble of spit mixed with your slick come down his chin. you body turns to jelly in his grasp, your legs becoming pliable. anton comes back down to the bed and guides your ass down slowly.

your legs are flimsy and your knees unbend themselves, sliding down the covers of your bed. anton goes back on his haunches slotted between your legs, looking at you laid out for him like a five course meal.

anton is starving when he licks his lips, the glossy sheen of you still evident on his face. the intensity that he looks at you with has you squirming, and you can feel your body getting ready for a second round. you try sitting up, to grab anton’s hard member that bobs in the darkness of your room but a hand stops you.

anton keeps you down, but you can’t stop yourself from looking at him. the hand that pushed your shoulder back down goes to your slit, gathering slick from your orgasm. anton using the wetness to jerk himself off. you are enthralled by the sight, the way anton’s hair covers his eyes but you can still feel his hard gaze. his breath comes out in huffs as he picks up the speed and muscles underneath his taut skin move in tandem with his hand. his body looks so large from this angle, the way looks down at you while beating his dick. you don’t know how much control anton wants tonight, but you can’t stop yourself from using a hand to grip your breast.

anton increasing the pace tells you that he likes it. your massage the supple skin the same way anton does, the same way he does it to you in your dreams. it’s the real deal when he leans his body over, his hand falling beside your head.

he still beats his dick while he’s above you. his chain jumps from the inertia of the action and you can’t choose between looking at anton or his necklace.

“what do you dream about?” anton murmurs.

“us running around together in a meadow.” you say truthfully.

“what else?” anton asks.

his hand thaat was jerking himself off went back to your clit. he puts two fingers in, making you listen to the low squelching sound of your arousal already coming back.

“i dream about you fucking me, too.” you say.

that’s all anton needs to hear before guiding his dick to your heat. he goes down to his elbow beside your head and in one swift motion you bring your hands to his back and wrap your legs around his waist.

anton is just as big as you remember. you have never felt this full before, your walls clamping around him before he can bottom out. anton loses some of his strength at the way you’re already milking him. his large sweaty frame presses against your chest and you welcome it. your breasts are squished against him, both of you moaning in ecstasy.

“i missed you so much.” anton says into the skin of your neck.

you can practically feel his face heating up and you can imagine his flushed face as he gives you another slow thrust. you think you’re close again already. when anton gives you a deep thrust your nails dig into the expanse of his back.

“i missed you too.” you say.

anton focuses on hitting you deep and slow. he hits the spot in the back of you that you both discovered together—the spot that leaves you clenching and anton twitching inside of you.

“just like this?” anton says, hitting the same spot again.

“just like that.” you whine.

anton spends time hitting that spot over and over again. he kisses any part of your body his lips can reach before turning your head to give you a kiss on the lips.

his other hand hold your hips done. his strength brings you pain, the type you revel in. you let anton forget his own strength as he continues to fuck you into the mattress, his slow and hard thrust making you bed creak rhythmically.

you can feel anton getting close to his peak, feeling him get closer has you hurtling towards the edge as well. you move one hand from his back to grip his arm, your nails digging into the flexed muscle. something about seeing someone so big and strong fall apart above you has you clenching uncontrollably around anton’s dick.

you break apart from anton’s lips to look down between the middle of your squished bodies. anton does the same, lifting his body so you can see where you two meet. you rest your sweaty foreheads against eachother to watch the show.

“i’m close.” anton whimpers.

“me too.” you say back.

“where can i—” anton’s voice is broken up by pleasure, trying to keep it together for as long as possible.

“inside me. please.”

“alright baby.” anton says.

he brings his chest back down to yours, and he brings an arm underneath your body to bring you close. you’re surrounded by him, nails rake down anton’s back as he picks up the speed.

anton whimpers your name into your ear before pulling back to look you in the eyes. he curses from your blown out pupils and the way your walls close in around him. anton grips your shoulder as he spills into you. you milk him dry, the sensation of him throbbing pushes you off the edge again. you pushed off into anton’s arms as your legs around his waist pulls him in. you grind into him when his hips still, loving the sound of anton inside of you. he whines and laughs a little from the overstimulation, his whole body sensitive.

you still move you hips until anton pulls out of you. you can feel his cum dripping from you and you fight the urge to push it back in. anton’s large body loses its strength above you, pressing your body into the mattress. he catches his breath in the crook of your neck, hot puffs of air fanning your skin.

you let anton’s large body crush you a little more. you missed him so much you would risk the suffocation. when anton’s breath finally steadies, you tap his back. anton understands immediately, picking his head up from your neck.

“oh my god i’m sorry.” anton says.

he slides off of you to lay beside you on the bed. you waste no time turning to him. now you’re the one tracing shapes on his chest. anton turns to you and smiles.

the rain outside is almost as comforting as the feeling of anton pulling you back into him. you doze off to sleep again, this time knowing you’ll be waking up to anton next to you.

#requestz #01zfan: anton #riize smut #anton smut

1K notes · View notes

kzlove · 7 months

Text

handle you

syn -> eren proves that he can handle you.

warnings : smut, squirting, creampie, thick black reader, weed and alcohol usage, unprotected sex, spit, not proofread; just nasty

you were laying in bed with your led lights on, tv playing music softly from its speakers.

frank ocean, flo mili, sza, steve lacy, kali uchis, and whoever fit their way into the mood.

it was definitely past twelve o clock now, but you didn't feel even a bit of tired.

you take a couple pictures and post it on instagram, labeling it as 'bored' before posting.

you see a lot of your homegirls like it immediately, but of course they all was doing something.

sasha had a class to go to in the morning, annie was exhausted from work, pieck was with her boyfriend.

the only person that didn't heart it was mikasa, and that was probably because she was with her boyfriend too.

you drop your phone down and roll your eyes, deciding to begin working on your assignment due next week.

but you don't have to mess with it for long.

your phone buzzes next to you, gaining your attention from the laptop. an instagram notification.

onyandrift replied to your story : smoke sesh? wtw

you roll your eyes, recognizing the username as your boy best friend.

the two of you use to kick it with each other all the time, and even spent a few nights at his house over the summer in high school.

but you fell off, cause eventually he got a girlfriend and started to stream games and a bunch of other nonsense.

around that same time, you started focusing more on yourself.

loveyn : lame booooo loveyn : ion got weed to share w u

onyandrift : girl you nvr do onyandrift : i'm providing onyandrift : come kick it w me n a few of my hbs

loveyn : uhm loveyn : you think i wanna be around bare niggas tn??

onyandrift : stop yappin and get dressed im omw

you roll your eyes at the text and sigh, checking the weather.

it wasn't gonna be too cold, so you settled for this and grabbed your phone charger and lip gloss.

onyankopon doesn't live far, so it doesn't surprise you when you hear his audi a6 make that annoying popping noise outside your house.

you groan in annoyance and grab a water bottle before stepping outside, immediately walking to the car.

"why the fuck you still got that shit bruh?" you complain, climbing into the front seat.

he had on his essentials hoodie and black sweatshorts, grey yeezy slides on and a velvet durag.

he shoots you a grin before he takes takes your things and puts it in the backseat like he always did.

during your senior year, he had you sit outside with him in the hot ass sun while he put something on his car to make it noisy as hell.

he did explain what it was, but it wasn't like you really cared so you ignored him.

you didn't expect him to still have it though.

"who all gon be up in there ony?" you ask once he makes it to the stop light.

onyankopon sits back in his seat and things, rubbing the stubble on his face in fake thought.

"don't know." he fakes, before driving off when the light turns green.

you groan in annoyance, fixing your hair and at least making sure you looked good.

when you make it, he grabs your things and tells you to head to the backyard where everyone else is.

you follow his instructions, grumbling about how he had better sprayed all the mosquitos.

everyone was back there like he said they were.

it was armin, jean, mikasa, onyan's girlfriend zara, and some guy you don't recall ever seeing.

"hey girl! come sit!" mikasa grins, swinging her legs off jean and patting the seat beside her.

it happened to be between her and the random guy.

he didn't pick his head up to greet you or even look at you, tapping away at his phone.

'rude ass' you thought to yourself, sitting next to mikasa with a bit of a stank face.

she follows your view, and sighs, leaning back. "don't mind him. he just don't wanna be outside." mikasa reassures.

you roll your eyes and fix yourself, saying hi to everyone else.

onyankopon joins you all in the back with all the spliffs he had rolled after hitting everyone up.

sooner or later, lost by frank ocean was playing lowly on the speaker and you were all on your third spliff.

"this would be so much better if we had drinks." mikasa complained, leaning back onto jean.

he ignores her, because everyone knows how nasty she gets when she's drunk and high.

"fuck that. some fucking food would be amazing." armin huffed out smoke, handing the spliff over to zara.

everyone groaned in agreement, and you were the only one to get up with a hum.

you don't miss the way a pair of eyes trace your body as you stretch and fix your pants.

"finna go find sum in the kitchen for us to eat." you grumble, venturing into the house.

you close the screen door behind you and look through his cabinets with a frown, fixing your hair out of your face.

the sliding door to the backyard slides open and closed, making you turn to the sound.

it was the silent guy, eren, you learned his name was.

and now you could see him in proper light.

he wore a grey hoodie and a pair of baggy sweats, long hair pulled into a up and down.

you had to admit that he was fine, his wife beater seeming tight around his chest.

and green eyes staring you the fuck down.

"can i help you?" you question rudely, turning back to the fruit snacks in the pantry.

"maybe you can." he responds, and you hear him approach you.

now you know your position could be taken as anything but innocent, bent over inside a pantry.

you stand up straight and face him, looking him up and down. you weren't know easy bitch, and you won't be treated as such.

"you can't handle me." you complain, pulling your phone out and grab the whole box of fruit snacks.

he takes the box from you and puts it on the counter, smirking just a little bit at you.

"you don't think so?" eren questions, tilting his head teasingly.

you scoff, jabbing your nail into his chest harshly until he backed up.

"trust me, baby. i know." you grab the fruit snacks up and join everyone else.

"nah don't run now. thought i couldn't handle you?" eren grinned down at you cockily.

you were bent over onyankopon's guest bed, back arched and face smushed into the sheets.

one thing is for certain, you shouldn't have picked up that fucking cup.

mikasa brought out the liquor and poured everyone a cup.

which led to everyone spending the night at ony's house and crashing in every room.

mikasa and jean took the game room in the basement, ony and zara obviously took his room, while armin crashed on the long L shaped couch with eren.

or well, he should've.

you couldn't stop teasing him in that stupid fucking graphic tee ony lent you for the night.

which led you here, under eren's strong hold and getting your pussy pounded something serious.

"ooouu why you fucking me like this?" you whine out a bit too loud, reaching back to press on his stomach.

but eren shut that down immediately, slapping your hand away and stuffing all eight inches in your gut.

"all fucking talk." eren grumbles to himself, angling his hips upwards and fucking you even harder.

at this angle, his fat tip was slamming right into your g-spot.

your jaw goes slack in a silent scream as you push your ass back onto him, holding onto the pillow.

eren grins over you, slapping the flesh connecting your waist to your thighs.

"good girl.. take this fucking dick." eren grunts out, obsessed with the way your ass ricocheted off his abs.

"wait wait wait! m'gonna make a mess!" you pleaded with him, grabbing his strong arms.

hearing that only made him speed up, staring directly at your pussy as it clenched around him.

you screamed into the pillow, squirting harshly onto the sheets beneath you.

eren pulls out to watch, catching his breath and clapping your ass cheeks together.

when you catch your breath, you turn your head to figure out why he was so quiet behind you.

he stared back at you, before chuckling lightly. "onyankopon is gonna fuck us up." he joked, flipping you onto your back.

you rolled your eyes and get comfortable, staring at him from behind your lashes.

"not us. you. i told you i'd make a mess." you shoot back, letting him lift your legs up.

"uh huh. sure." eren says, not even listening to you as he pushes right back inside of you.

in this position, he reaches deeper inside of you and it makes you whine again.

you can't even think of a remark to say back, because his pace picks up once more.

eren wraps his hand around your throat and leans in, spitting in your mouth.

you accept it gratefully, swallowing and pulling him down to kiss him.

eren groans into the kiss, rutting into harder and rubbing your clit in rough circles.

you moan out, arching your back and grabbing his hand.

"fuck.. gonna make me nut in this pussy." eren groans out, moving his hand off your throat and kissing just below your ear.

you squeeze your eyes shut at the pleasure, bucking your hips weakly into him.

what he says doesn't register in your brain, your head going foggy as all you could focus on was how good he was fucking you.

eren starts to mumble something you don't hear clearly, bucking into you wildly.

you cum around him again, locking your knees behind him and digging your nails into his back.

eren groans in your ear, hips stuttering as he shoots thick, hot ropes into your sensitive pussy.

you flinch and whine lightly at the feeling, playing with his hair.

the two of you lay in your combined juices, still coming down from your highs.

eventually, eren turns his head to face you and grins.

"i gotta buy you a plan b?" he questions, rubbing your thigh in slow circles to get your full attention.

you shake your head and close your eyes. "i'm on birth control." you inform, taking a look at your nails.

"you gotta pay for my lashes and nails tho. got me fucked up." you grumble, looking at your broken index nail and missing pinky.

eren laughs at that, pulling out and climbing off the bed to pull his boxers back on.

"can't handle you my ass. don't ever let me hear you say that shit again girl." eren teases, helping you off the bed.

loud knocks make the two of you freeze, grabbing the sheets to cover your still naked.

a loud voice rings out from behind, making you remember exactly where you two were.

"aye make sure yall niggas clean up and take that fucking sheet home! got me fucked up, fucking in my house like that!" onyankopon complains, before walking off.

eren looks back at you with a grin, before slapping the fat of your thigh playfully.

he's never letting you stay over again.

#aot fanfiction #attack on titan #aot fluff #shingeki no kyojin #eren yeager #eren x reader #eren x black fem!reader #kz-loves-you #eren jeager #eren jaeger x reader #eren aot #eren jaeger #eren jaeger x black reader #eren x black reader #eren x black y/n

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mygaynesshasnolimits · 7 days

Note

if u had to give a summary of the most iconic / omg / ur fave / couple era pazzi moments in the last couple of months what would they be😭 i know we’ve been spoiled but im in a drought

we have indeed been spoiled, spoiled so good. but from the top of my head i think my most iconic pazzi moment (only ONLY counting these past few months btw) might be the cruise. to a point it's also azzi showing up at the draft and them looking so good together

but the cruise is just...something else. the way it all started with some guy mentioning seeing paige on his cruise with a teammate and we all (most of us) just knew it was azzi and THEN we got this

an INSANE MOMENT. and then everything else thereafter was just more insanity upon insanity. then their little trip to montana which was so domestic the way they had their chairs touching while at paige's brother's baseball game. oh! not to mention the way we found out azzi is joining paige in montana was by overhearing azzi asking Alexa how long the flight is from DC to montana. and omg wait when they showed up on that last live TOGETHER in june and LITERALLY SHOWED OFF THEIR AI BABIES 😩 and the next day went to the mystics game and paige was in awe looking at azzi hugging a kid? and then went to the spirit game later on pride night? omg there's so much that happened. omg the lynx game where we recognized azzi by her DERRIERE. little bobby 🥺 seeing coach ouse post them working out together ( noticeably azzi) and then ofc just the whole couple of days in nyc with the us open and fashion week. and them disgustingly flirting in our faces in those barclays videos. oh good lord.

I'm leaving out so much good stuff my memory is shot and the gifs are what I could find on my phone with a lazy quick search as I typed out this nonsensical ramblings of a crazy person

Last but certainly not least, i can't not add this, my favorite moment: (to the anon that asked me why this is my favorite, I have been working on a video reply for days, they're so distracting)

(im sorry i can never answer a question properly or coherently)

(now gonna go make up a summer masterlist)

#paige bueckers #azzi fudd #pazzi

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ofjunemoment · 1 year

Text

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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zweiginator · 3 months

Note

bestfriend’s brother patrick….oh i fear i need more of this hehehe

im at your service

and just expanding on the previous ask.... patrick refuses to fuck you. is repeating it to himself like a mantra whenever he sees you.

dontdoitdontdoitdontdoit.

he keeps his promise for awhile. til the end of july. that's when his little sister and you bring over two guys for a movie night. seems innocent enough. patrick shouldn't care. he doesn't care.

he's just supervising. making sure these boys aren't creeps. watching over his little sister and her cute little best friend.

the boy you're with is putting his arm around you. moving his hands under the blanket. patrick kicks them out.

"i'm older and i'm in charge. i want them out. fucking weridos."

they listen to patrick immediately. he's pissed and he's way stronger and taller.

and you're mad because you only invited them over because patrick had been refusing to touch you since that night. you try and try and try to entice him, but nothing is working. you weren't meaning to make him jealous.

patrick's sister just goes to bed; the whole thing was your idea anyway. but you are mad.

patrick notices you look different.

"doing your makeup all slutty for some stupid boys?" he swipes his thumb across your bottom lip. your red lip gloss stains his finger.

"don't call me that!" you yell, knowing he will tell you to shut up. maybe he'll make you.

"be quiet." he says it calmly. "i'm just saying. whoring yourself out is gonna put you down a bad path."

now he's just trying to piss you off. he knows you're smart and kind and respectable. you were a goody-two-shoes up until last year.

"you're the one always whoring yourself out--so far i've counted five girls this summer? no--six."

"very funny." he says, against the shell of your ear.

"why do you even care anyway?" you ask. patrick is leading you outside; he shuts the glass door behind you.

he knows this will do you in. push that final button. "you're like a little sister to me. just want what's best."

he knows you'll yell and huff and prove to him that no you're not. not at all.

he can always say you came onto him first. they wouldn't believe him, of course. not with his track record.

you start unbuttoning his shirt, clawing at him, pulling him in by the waistband. his sister's bedroom window faces the backyard.

"jesus fucking christ." he throws you over his shoulder, takes you to the pool shed.

he unties his shorts; he's still in those swim trunks of his that hug his thighs.

"i'll fuck you." he says. "i'll fuck you right here. and you're not going to tell anyone." his grasp is strong on your jaw and you whimper.

"won't tell anyone. i promise."

he pushes your shorts down, his other hand fondling your bare tits from underneath a t-shirt he recognizes as his own.

"did you go through my fucking closet?" he pulls your hair.

you giggle. "maybe."

"god, you're a slut. don't even deserve this."

you push your ass back on his cock and he's in heaven. maybe you don't deserve this but he does. he rubs himself between your folds, nudges your clit with the tip of his cock until your legs shake so hard that patrick has to hold you up.

pushes himself inside.

"so, big. feels so good." you bounce your ass back on him, listening to how he groans. they're deep from within his throat, animalistic.

you didn't think you could like anything better than when he fingered you two months ago. but you like how mean he is. pounding into you. calling you names, his hand around your throat.

you know it's all a facade. when he's close to cumming, he drops the act. holds your hips and tilts your head to give you sloppy kisses. he tells you how wet your pussy is, how tight you are.

"can you feel how deep i am?"

you nod. you love it. you think you love him.

you take him all. tell him that you're not a slut always--it's just for him. his voice cracks when you say this, hot ropes of cum coating you with him.

god, he hopes you can keep a secret.

#ask #challengers #patrick zweig #patrick zweig x reader #challengers smut #patrick zweig smut #best friends brother!patrick

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love2poetry · 3 months

Text

loml

⤷ mcu!peter parker x artsy!reader

𝜗𝜚. . . synopsis. you are both peter's love and loss of his life

𝜗𝜚. . . general tag. mostly fluff & some angst

.ᐟ. . . content warnings. if you see any grammar mistakes, keep them to yourself pls thx<3 might be cringe tbh

♫⋆｡ our field of dreams, engulfed in fire your arson's match your somber eyes and i'll still see it until i die, you're the loss of my life

⋆౨ৎ˚⟡˖ ࣪ sophia's letter ! i wrote this as it's raining and can you guess what scented candle i have lighting? 😝 anyway i went through a depressive episode for no reason so i took a hiatus, but i might be back for the summer. i often go through another one when school starts so im gonna do the most now. i was thinking of making a part two for this using 'peter' but idk. anyway, HIIII NEW GRACIE ALBUM THIS WEEK RAGHH

prequel

wc. 1,926

spring had just began, more warm days after months of freezing cold weather. today, however, seemed to be one of the few cold, rainy days february had left. you had finished homework earlier today, always wanting to have your weekends free as much as you can, so you decided to occupy your mind with something else more calming.

after finishing the last of your ap psychology assignment, you walked to your kitchen and made yourself a quick matcha. as you measured the green powder into your cat mug - a lovely gift peter got you because one of the cats in the bug is a calico, like your own cat - a thud was heard from your room. it was followed by an 'ow' quickly after, causing a small smile to form on your lips.

peter.

at the sudden noice, autumn, your calico cat, run cautiously out of your room. after finishing your matcha with some creamer, you also walked to your room.

peter looked towards the door upon sensing you. his spidey sense usually only triggered when danger was near, however, when it came to you, peter was able to feel you. he couldn't describe it, but there was something in you that made him feel safe. it was a warm feeling that ran down his spine, and maybe it was because he was in your room, but he could also smell the vanilla lotion you love to use. everything about you made him feel like he was engulfed by a soft blanket.

so it was no surprise that the first thing peter did was offer you a smile. you automatically smile back of course. how could you not when he looks at you like that, like he was going to somehow bring you the moon he often photographed because it made him think of you.

'it's raining,' peter pointed with a boyish grin. the obvious pitter patter coming from your windows made you tilt your head playfully. 'you don't say.'

peter patrolled the streets of new york everyday as his alter ego, spider-man. but on days like this, he likes to use the weather as an excuse to come see you earlier instead. he has a build in heater in his suit of course, but in his opinion it doesn't work as well as a good cuddling season with you.

peter sets his masks down on your night stand. 'cuddles?'

you took a sip of your matcha as you walked to your desk. 'i have to work on my portfolio.' you heard him walk to your dresser that sat on the corner of your room where you had a drawer with his clothes to change to after patrol. 'i thought you were done with it?'

'yea, it's just,' your fingers glossed over your sketches. junior year was ending and soon college applications will start. it had been your dream to attend the art school of chicago, and now that applications are around the corner, you want to make sure everything is perfect. 'it doesn't feel complete.'

once peter was out of his wet suit and into his favorite pair of bright pink hello kitty pants matched with a plain white tee, he sneaked his arms around you, taking your comforting scent in. you felt him place a kiss in your hair, 'i think it's perfect.'

you turn to look at him with an unimpressed expression. his smile widens and he can't fight the urge to kiss you any longer. peter gently presses his lips into yours. he's always been delicate with his kisses, especially after being spider-man. you knew it was his way to ground himself after a day of fighting criminals, so you let him be as soft as he needed.

you loved it that way. you loved him that way.

peter pulls away first. 'i have some photos i took last week. you could draw some if you need.'

peter's hobby went hand in hand with your art. thanks to being spider-man, he was able to take some shots of new york no one else would be able to obtain, and he often let you sketch them, so often that half of his storage is pictures he takes for you to draw. the other half is probably of you.

you hum in agreement, still looking into peter's eyes. you have never loved brown as much as you do now.

'tomorrow.' peter took your mug in one hand, then used the other to hold your hand while he drag you over to bed. 'today, we cuddle.' he set your bug on the night stand.

you smile. 'okay.'

you two settled under your warm covers with you closest to your mug incase you want a sip, but before you could find a comfortable position, peter stood up, muttering a quick 'wait!'.

you frown, but understood what he was doing when he pulled a lighter from your drawer in the night stand. he lit up the candle that rested on top. apple pumpkin. you bought a few pumpkin scented candles last fall, and peter grew to love this specific one. he wasn't a fan of scented candles because of his enhanced smell, but this one was subtle enough for him to enjoy without getting a headache.

once peter returned to bed, he wrapped his arms around your waist with his head on your chest. he slightly tilted his head to plant a kiss into your skin. 'i love you.'

his whispered confession filled you with butterflies. you don't know what you did to be lucky enough to love this boy in your arms, let alone be loved back by him. one of your hands wrapped around his back, while the other caressed his check, slightly squishing his face. his chuckles echoed in the room along the rain when you started kissing his face.

two kisses on his right check, two more on the left, three on his forehead, and one on the bridge of his nose.

'i love you more.'

a bright smile stayed on peter's face as he shook his head. 'that's not possible.' your smile matched his, 'i think it is. no, i know it is.'

'i love you most.' before you could disagree, you felt his hands sneak under your shirt, cutting you off by tickling your sides. you squeak in surprise and try to squirm away. your laughter fills peter's ears, 'okay! i can't breathe!'

peter paused his movements and you inhale to suggest, 'we both love each other equally.'

peter makes a thinking face. 'i'll let you have this win,' he rolled his eyes playfully before settling in your arms again.

the two of you stayed intertwined in bed until you felt peter's breathing slow down, indicating he had fallen asleep. his weight was on your side now, but looking down at him you decided you wanted to engrave this moment forever.

swiftly, you reached for the small sketchbook you keep on your night stand. thankfully, you had left a pencil there too. you sat up slightly, making sure not to disturb peter's slumber. his arms tighten around you making you freeze, but the light snores coming from peter tell you he is still deep in his sleep.

you find a clean page and begin drawing shapes until you like how they all sit together. you move to the face proportions, not focusing on shading yet. your hand makes the hair part look effortless, and it may be from the many times you've drawn these curls. moving back to the face, you use your finger to blend the lines better.

finishing the rough draft, your focus goes to the nose, moving to the freckles you have memorized.

'stalker.'

peter's deep voice caused a blush to creep into your cheeks. it wasn't the first time peter caught you drawing him, he has seen the many sketches and paintings you've done of him, but you still shy way when his eyes follow every detail of him you've embedded into your mind.

if only you knew peter feels the same. to know the person he loves more than anything has memorized him, his body and soul, fills him with an indescribable feeling. he does the same with his camera. most of his photos are moments you've shared together that he wants to remember forever.

peter not having storage on his phone from all the candid pictures he has of you is his version of when you learned to draw the lines that form around his eyes when he smiles.

'shut up,' you nudge your leg against his. there's smiles on both of your faces as peter snuggles closer to you.

the room is rather dark by now, only the candle peter had previously lit and another lamp you always have create a cozy atmosphere. the warm glow of the lamp reaches your features enough for peter to see and he takes his time to draw his own painting of you in his mind.

the flickering flame of the candle mixing with the apple pumpkin scent ignite a perfect portrait of peter you ache to fabricate, you take a mental picture for later.

you could be here with peter for all time.

neither of you knew that it was only momentary.

peter climbed through the window, a plastic bag in hand. he pulled his mask off, wet hair falling over his eyes.

the loud thunder from outside shook his apartment. it started raining earlier that day, so peter decided to cut his patrolling short. he hadn't done it in a while.

his body was freezing from the harsh wind that he old suit would have kept him warm from. he walked towards a basket full of his clothes that sat in a corner, that was his dresser for the time being, and grabbed a gray shirt.

when peter picked up the shirt, he caught a glimpse of what once were a bright magenta hello kitty bottoms, is now a dull shade of pink. with a sinking feeling, peter decided to put them on as well.

he made it to his twin size bed where he left the bag and took out the single purchase he made.

a small scented candle. apple pumpkin.

once lit, he set it on the small dining table his studio apartment came with. he stared at it until the soft scent filled his nose. his throat closes when memories of you that are still imprinted in his mind come back. peter feels his left eye twitch as tears threaten to spill, but he refuses to cry.

he can't afford a breakdown. he has no one to turn to anymore. peter doesn't know if he can pick himself back up if he breaks. it was easier with tony because he had may and friends who cared about him. but especially because he had you.

now may is gone, he's a stranger to his friends, and every detail of peter you had memorized has been erased.

peter turns back to his bed and pulls the covers to get in. he continues to stare at the flame emotionless, slowly dissociating from his lonesome.

even after everything, peter can't comprehend how you could go from perfectly drawing the creases on his lips without a reference to not even remembering his name.

do you still have those pieces of him?

do you still draw him even now like it is muscle memory?

is he in your dreams like you are in his?

you will continue to occupy peter's mind until the day being spider-man finally kills him. you were his deepest love, and now his greatest loss.

#୧ ‧₊˚ 🏹 ⋅ 𝕾𝐎𝐏𝐇𝐈𝐀 𝕭𝐋𝐔𝐑𝐁𝐒 #୧ ‧₊˚ 🎀 ⋅ 𝕾𝐎𝐏𝐇𝐈𝐀 𝖂𝐎𝐑𝐊𝐒 #୧ ‧₊˚ 🍰 ⋅ 𝕾𝐎𝐏𝐇𝐈𝐀 𝖂𝐑𝐈𝐓𝐈𝐍𝐆 #peter parker x you #peter parker fluff #peter parker imagine #peter parker x reader #peter parker fanfiction #mcu!peter x reader #mcu!peter parker #loml taylor swift #peter parker blurb #spiderman x reader #spiderman x you #no way home #peter parker angst

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blublublujk · 9 months

Text

bound 2 (falling in love)

oneshot

word count: 6.5k

genre: fwb to lovers

pairing: yoongi x reader

summary:

You and Yoongi were okay with being friends with benefits... until you weren't.

warnings: i tried to focus on fluff (did you catch it or did i fail), explicit sexual content; unprotected sex (they make love to each other), choking and breath play (hello it's yoongi), multiple orgasms, slight overstimulation, crying (is it really my ff if there's no crying involved), creampie, very cute aftercare and i think that’s all, this is more sweet than anything lol

a.n: believe it or not this wasn't apart of my drafts i wrote this all one night because i couldn't sleep so thank my insomnia for this, it was about time i write about yoongi :D

also i noticed a lot of you are reading it was destiny and love always wins and i wish you guys wouldn't only because i plan to rewrite some of it and continue them at a further time (chaptered ffs are so hard for me rn since i don't have all the time in the world to dedicate myself to them but i promise to be back with those two series) thank you for everyone who takes time to read what i write it really means so much and your comments have been so motivating. thank you so fucking much for 2k notes on good girl, gone bad i havent seen numbers like that ever im so so grateful, thank you from the bottom of my heart. i'll try to be back one or two more times this month and happy late birthday to me hehe <3

—> m.list

—> welcome me on ao3 & twt

—-

It happened again.

Another failed date to add to the sad list of people that simply will never workout for you.

The list was growing longer as months passed. When you started this list, it was barely the start of a very hot summer. Probably the hottest it’s been in years, one can only assume the winter will not be any easier.

And you were right. Winter was only beginning and it was brutally cold. The streets were moist from the previous night of harsh rainfall.

What better time to date and settle down than now. When the world gives you rain, settle for the warm arms of a lover.

Unfortunately, you made a grave mistake thinking this would come easy. Ten first dates later and you are still very single and loverless.

It is not easy to go out during a time like now, suffering at the sight of happy couples and their stupid happy lives. Really, it should disgust you. It used to. The whole concept of devoting your entire life to someone. The need to constantly feel the tender touch of another person. The desire to fall in love and do it all over again, you get it now. At least, you think you do.

“I don’t think this is gonna work.” The words fall from your mouth in a quiet rush. The man across you sits in silence before he smiles in his loss.

“Don’t worry, I figured. It seems your mind was elsewhere. I know you don’t want to pursue anything romantically, and that’s fine with me, but is everything okay?”

Is everything okay? Well currently, yeah you’re okay. As for your heart, it’s heavy and strangely, you feel there’s a hole in your chest and it needs to be filled. That would fix things, you think. You have been single for so long that you forgot what it was like to love and cherish someone. Not that you have ever truly loved or cherished anyone, but you’ve gotten close. If a silly relationship you had in your sophomore year of high school counts. Then yes, you’ve totally been in love.

“I’m okay. Thanks for asking. I didn’t mean to lead you on, if it ever felt like I did.” The apology seems bitter in your mouth. Another failed fucking attempt. How difficult can dating be? Have you really been this disconnected with the world around you?

“Don’t stress it! Things happen. I hope you can find what you’re looking for. See you… around?” The man’s understanding response makes you feel worse. Maybe you should consider deleting Tinder and finding love naturally, if that’s still a thing in the contemporary life.

“Yeah, totally!” And like that you’re off to the next. Giving yourself plenty of time to bathe in your disappointment and miserably cry about your failed attempts at finding what you’ve been missing. Who knew dating could be so difficult?

The walk back home is just as cold as the outcome of today’s date. Your date insisted he could drive you home and if not that then pay for a cab, but you didn’t live too far from the restaurant you both met at. Though he insisted, you figured this walk could refresh you after yet another failure. You were starting to regret it as the cold wind started roughly hitting your skin. Preserving the chilly weather, you genuinely couldn’t wait to get home and wrap yourself in a bundle of warm blankets and comfortable clothes.

Cold hands struggle to open your door, you blow on them with warm puffs of breaths, soon making your way in and getting comfortable in your humble apartment.

yoon: you up?

And that, that is what made this harder. The fact that you knew there was someone completely capable of loving and caring for you the way you desired. You have seen it with your own eyes. Every time you ended up in his bed, in his arms, you felt it. Deep down you know something is there and that something beats everything else. Maybe you’re just delusional, but you look for him in everyone else and you hate it. Hate because you will never be anything more than his personal little whore that comes at the sound of his call.

me: yeah

Normally, you aren’t dry over texts, especially not with him so he’ll see right through you. You’re hoping for once, he can ignore it.

He won't.

yoon: you ok?

me: been better

yoon: wanna talk about it?

me: no, i'm ok

yoon: ok, wanna come over?

Yes, because during a time like this all you want is the comfort and warmth of someone else’s touch and Yoongi has never failed at giving that to you. But he is not yours.

And you are not his.

me: not feeling well. sorry.

yoon: sick?

A white lie never hurt anyone.

me: yeah, throat hurts

yoon: im sorry

me: it's not your fault maybe another time.

Though you really shouldn’t say that. There should be no next time. That way you don’t suffer any longer and drag him down with you, considering everything you’ve been feeling and dealing with lately. It’s not fair to Yoongi, but especially yourself.

He doesn’t reply anymore and you can’t even hide your disappointment. You aren’t disappointed at him, okay maybe a little bit at him, but mainly yourself and your recently found complicated feelings.

You and Yoongi started this whole mess a year ago, before you even realized what you truly wanted. It started off with subtle flirting here and there. They say not to mess with coworkers, given that it can complicate things at work and one should never play with their main source of income, but you did it anyway. You are still young and he only made you feel younger, like a teenage girl crushing over her forbidden crush at church. It was silly, but Yoongi made it easy.

The flirting turned to one thing, then another.

“We shouldn’t, not here.” Yoongi had you pinned outside the club you both worked at, leaving trails of wet kisses down your throat.

“Five more minutes.” His words were muffled into your skin as his hands explored your body. Yoongi’s touch was always way too soft for his own good and you fell victim to his deadly warmth.

“If Mr. Kim finds out, he’ll kill us and fire us both.” That was a bit dramatic on your part and you swore you felt the taller smiling against your neck.

Yoongi drops one last kiss on your cheek as his hot breath hits your ear. “Not if I kill him first.”

You gasped, pushing him off you with a quick smack to his chest. “D-Don’t even joke like that.”

Yoongi just laughed.

“Okay, okay baby.” The term of endearment fell from his lips too easily and you melted into the dark night. “See you after work?”

You only nodded, not being able to deny his temporary warmth and sweet presence. Then he dropped a kiss on your lips, leaving you just as quick as when he first found you. You were fucked.

From there, it only got worse for your sake. Your heart could only take so much.

Really, you should blame things on him. It was his fault you fell in love with him and his stupidly soft hands. It was all his fault! He left you no choice but to love the feel of his lips against your skin, to easily melt under his soft gaze, and find comfort in his unnecessarily warm bed. Yoongi was perfect. Everything you could ever want.

That’s why it was so fucking hard. Dating was hard enough, but after feeling Yoongi’s intimate touch, you were a complete goner. Though he was far from it, Yoongi touched you like you were his and he would fuck you like a lover would. Kissing and making love to you as if you were the most beautiful woman on Earth. It was all too much.

Fuck, you really needed to get a grip.

The knock on your door makes you jump from your couch.

Ten minutes longer and you would have fallen asleep exactly where you were lying. In outside clothes and all. You didn’t even bother taking off the outfit you had carefully planned thinking that this lucky outfit would have finally taken you somewhere. It didn’t.

“Coming!” There’s not a single person that should be outside your door, especially at this hour. Your feet make their way to the door regardless and the blood from your face drains when you see the person standing behind the door.

Quickly, you unlock your front door, rushing the taller inside. “Hurry! It’s freezing! What are you doing out here?”

Yoongi’s cheeks are surely frozen, a pink dust decorates his cheeks and the tip of his nose. It almost makes him look cute. You were far more gone than you imagined.

He hustles inside, carrying a fairly large brown bag with him. He brought… groceries?

“Took you long enough.” The taller one makes himself at home, laying his bag on your coffee table.

“What are you even doing here?” You ask again.

He ignores you. “Thought you said you were sick. You don’t look very sick?”

Yoongi looks at you with a questioning look, his eyes wander your outfit and guilt starts eating your insides.

You cross your arms, an attempt to hide yourself in shame, but what’s done is done. “I- I had plans.”

“Yeah, I see that.” He simply says, standing awkwardly in your living area.

If this doesn’t convince you to delete that forsaken app for the sake of your dignity and shameful behavior, you don’t know what will.

“Anyways, w-what brings you here?”

“Brought you some stuff.” His hand waves over to the bag he carried inside.

“Stuff?” You question, a bit dumbfounded, planted still in your place.

“Tea, cough drops, some soup I made earlier this week. Oh and flowers.” Yoongi doesn’t seem at all embarrassed or fazed about the situation. Not that he should be, but he speaks with a puff to his chest, as if he wanted to ensure you understood his every word and action. Like any concerned lover would be. As if he was yours and you were his.

Oh.

This was so so bad. For you and your weak heart. Fuck.

“I-“

He cuts you off before you even get to speak. “I don’t know if you’ll like it. It’s just some plain seaweed soup. Usually helps me when I’m sick. I’m not sure what flowers you like, or if you even like flowers. Do you? Their tulips. I did a bit of research before. My mom likes tulips. I figured you might like them too.”

He did research? Double fuck!

Yoongi was nervously rambling, now he was slightly embarrassed. Pink flushes his cheeks and it wasn’t the weather’s doing this time.

“Yoongi…” You start breathlessly and in disbelief.

“What?” He nearly stutters, his hand is shaking. He’s nervous. Who would have thought?

“Why.” Is all you manage to ask.

“You were sick.” Is all he replies. As if things were really that simple. What next? Would he come rushing to the hospital if you suddenly fell ill? God forbid, but it was a valid question.

What was going on? For a second, you entertain the idea. Maybe he fell in love between the blurry lines of this complicated relationship. Were the shared intimate memories too special for him to forget too? You weren’t sure anymore, but what did this all mean? Maybe he loves you, as much as you love him.

Thoughts keep spinning and you wish there was an easier way to turn off your brain. Not now.

“I know, but why? Why all this? Why for me?” Your vulnerability is showing and it makes you feel weak. Maybe your hands are shaking too.

“I don't understand?” Yoongi searches for the answer in your glossy eyes, he’s tempted to reach out and comfort you. Have you in his hands, but he’s too coward. He doesn’t want you to feel the shiver of his touch right now. His vulnerability peaks through as well.

Why not you? It’s always going to be you.

“I-I’m nothing to you.” There’s a shiver again and then you break.

Yoongi doesn’t care anymore. He’ll consider the consequences later. Right now, none of it matters.

His hands hold your face, ready to wipe the tears that threaten to leak from your precious eyes. He hopes his hands aren't cold anymore from standing outside for so damn long, but he couldn’t stop himself, in his selfishness and all.

His hands shake slightly, trying to stay strong as he lays it all on the table. “Y/N, you’re everything to me.” He whispers, eyes never leaving yours.

You lay your own hands on his, you feel so delicate around him when you wrap warm hands around his cold wrists.

“I-I am?” You ask between sniffles. His hands are still pretty cold, but they’ll soon warm up against your soft skin. Nobody knows how desperately you need to be touched until you are and then it’s like little fireworks spark inside your body. It consumes you in the best way possible.

“Of course. I thought I made that obvious.” His eyes are soft, different to how he typically looks at you, but you’ve seen these same eyes before. They are no stranger. It’s similar to the look he gives you when you catch him staring at you while you are deep in work. He pretends to look away as if he wasn’t admiring you from afar and you pretend that you don’t notice his curious eyes. It’s the same look he has after you both end up in heated makeout sessions, behind the rusty club you both work at. And it’s definitely the same look he has while he settles on top of you, whispering sweet words of praise and promise.

Nothing should feel different but it just does, there’s something in the way he looks down at you that lets you know that everything you’ve been searching for has always been right here. Right where you’ve been all along.

The taller leans in and you freeze struggling to keep your eyes on his. Yoongi’s thumb brushes against your cheek with a soft touch. You were fragile between his hands and he’s willing to do anything to keep his precious flower safe. “Can I kiss you?”

“Yes. Please.” You whisper back in a hurry, scared that this would be nothing but a dream. It wasn’t time for you to wake up yet.

His eyes zero-in on your lips and then he’s kissing you. It’s not much different from other times. After all, you guys have shared plenty of kisses, probably more than you should have considering you guys were friends with benefits, at most. But this time, the kiss isn’t just a careless lust-filled doing, no this time the kiss is a promise. The promise to never again allow you to question his feelings and intentions towards you.

If Yoongi has to spend his whole life making this up to you, he simply would because that’s how much you meant to him. He can’t believe he even let this go on for this long. He should have been more clear and careful, but he doesn’t regret a damn thing. Not when he has all the time in the world to repair the time lost. And especially not when his reckless actions led him to this. To you.

Yoongi’s lips are soft and bend with yours with ease. He takes his time, never in a rush. Especially not when he has you in-hand.

The taller doesn’t escalate the kiss. He keeps it sweet and gentle, like he always has been. “I’m so sorry baby.”

Kiss.

“For?”

Kiss.

Yoongi has the whole world in his hands right now as he looks down into the sparkles in your eyes and he’s never been so sure about anything in his life. “For being a fucking idiot.”

Kiss.

“It’s okay.” A kiss is shared again. “I was an idiot too. I was just scared that you wouldn’t want that with me.”

“Want what?” The taller questions, fingers trailing your face, admiring the imperfections and all.

“A relationship, I mean. You seemed content with how our relationship already was. I was afraid of losing that. Of losing you.” You admit, eyes fluttering at his touch.

“Of course, I want that. I want that and more. I-I’m not the best with relationships. I’m only saying this because I want to be open and honest with you. There’s not a second you aren’t on my mind. While at work, you are all I can see. In a crowd of a hundred, my eyes always find yours. I don’t know how to explain what you do to me. But I don’t mind. I think if I ever lost that, I would lose my mind. So I’m sorry if I ever made you feel the opposite. There’s so much more I want to say, but I just don’t know how. I want that. I want that so bad. A relationship and whatever more you give me. I might not be the best boyfriend but I’ll do whatever it takes. I- I love you.” Yoongi’s words are heartfelt and he’s so relieved. One because he’s been keeping this in for so long, any longer and he would have exploded, but second because he’s been dying to say those three words. He really does love you and Yoongi doesn’t love many people in life, but if he had to choose, it’s always gonna be you.

The tears that were creeping on your eye-lids fall prettily down your face, but Yoongi comes to your rescue. He’s quick to wipe them off your pretty face, tempted to kiss them away, but he keeps that in for now. “Y-Yoongi… I love you too. So much. I think I always have. You are so easy to love. The way you look at me, care for me, and always show up for me. That says more about you than anything else. I tried dating to get over what I felt for you, as you can probably tell, but nothing worked. It was so easy, Yoongi. So easy to fall in love with you. You’re perfect and I don’t doubt that you’ll be the best even after all this. I love you.”

“I love you too, I love you. Fuck, I love you.” Yoongi kisses you again and this time he isn’t as gentle. His lips are still soft as ever as they curl around yours. His tongue comes out and you immediately allow access, letting him explore your mouth. The taste is much better now that there isn’t anything you both are holding back. Everything down on the line and you couldn’t be happier. The hole in your heart was never empty, it was just waiting for this exact moment to remind you that you’ve always had it all.

“Yoongi.” In between breaths you call his name and Yoongi feels his knees lock. “Take me to bed.”

Yoongi just nods in a trance with the way your tone drips of arousal. A long strand of hair falls on his face when he picks you up with ease off your feet. He takes you to the place he’s had the honor to visit a hundred times before, but it’s different this time, much different.

In the process of it all, something falls and it causes you both to laugh until you run out of breath.

“I can’t believe that just happened.” You laugh into his ear. “You owe me a new lamp. My mother bought me that, you know. House-warming gift.”

“Fuck, sorry.” Yoongi mumbles near a whisper as he grips you harder like he’s afraid he might drop you next and the idea makes you giggle because you know he would never purposely hurt you. “I’ll apologize to your mother directly. Buy you and her a new lamp, whatever it takes.”

“What makes you think you are meeting my mother?” You tease with a smile on your face, watching the blush rise on his cheeks.

“Well, I figured we could, you know, if you would like–” Yoongi doesn’t often get shy about many things but he can’t keep calm around you and that kills him softly.

“I’m just teasing you.” You say and he bites his lip. “Of course you’ll meet my mother and my father and my nosy ass family. I hope you like annoying, persistent grandma’s that stuff you full. My grandma’s the worst of her kind, but she’ll love you.”

“I would love to.” Yoongi simply replies, still whispering as if you guys had to keep quiet or else you’d be in deep trouble.

“Why are we still whispering?” You whisper back, roaming fingers through his long, gorgeous hair. He needs to remind you to thank his mother personally for insisting he keep his hair long because it made him look pretty and you could never disagree. Yoongi’s so pretty.

“I-I don’t know.”

You both smile at each other before sharing another kiss. It’s so sweet and if you weren’t already off your feet, you would be floating by now. He’s gentle when letting you drop into the sheets below, he finds space between your legs and you wrap them around his hips. Lips still in contact, never losing the plushy feel.

Everything starts to feel hot. Your hips start to slowly grind against his begging for any sort of friction. But the kissing doesn’t stop.

Not when you start whining against his lips.

Not even when Yoongi starts trailing his fingers down your waist and around your curves. He teases his fingertips against your waistline, soft to the touch.

It’s not until you mewl loudly into his mouth, skillful tongue playing with yours, as you feel him start unbuckling your pants, button-by-button.

Yoongi’s eyes are heavy-lidded, his gaze burning fire. “Gonna take care of you now, is that okay?”

You furiously nod, coming up to kiss him once more, both your lips are raw and sensitive, but it gives you more of a reason to fix it with even more kisses.

He drops one quick kiss onto your mouth before he trails down your jaw. Yoongi breathes in the sweet scent on your skin, wishing he could feel you even closer. “Smell so damn good.”

His voice is raspy against your ear and it makes you blush, while you feel his hand finally touch you where you had been aching with need. “Wanna hear you.”

Breathing lightly, you whisper. “Make me.”

And of course, Yoongi makes you regret how fast you said the words because he delves his fingers forward with little resistance. Two fingers stretch you at the same time, gasping at the sudden sensation.

By now, you were molded to fit Yoongi’s fingers. On days where you were really in need, you would take four, all at once. Yoongi was best at reading every expression, every crease and scrunch to your face, especially emotions. He knew exactly how to curve his fingers, the way to build you up, and bring you back down. Yoongi knew it all and he was so lucky too.

He never anticipated it would have gone this far. It was just sex to begin with. But who were you both kidding, it was always much, much more.

Yoongi curves his fingers in the way he’s used to and watches your mouth drop, sweet noises soon leaving your lips. “Feels good?”

There’s no need to ask because he can tell. Your expression tells him everything he needs to know. That and the fact that you are dripping around his fingers but it’s sexier hearing it from you.

“Yeah… f-feels so good.” With his other hand he tugs your clothes off, leaving you bare on the bottom. Remembering the first few times is a bit embarrassing, but Yoongi always made sure to take his time and make you feel comfortable. It was special and memorable in its own way, and Yoongi felt it too.

This is unlike any first time, but it was technically the first time you could officially make love to each other until you fall lovesick and that had to be impossible around someone like Yoongi.

“Hold your legs open for me, flower.” You try to ignore the warm feeling that buzzes in your chest, but you are sure your face says it all. Without another word, you spread your legs open, tucking both hands behind your thighs.

“Flower?” You breathe out with a bit of a struggle as his two fingers continue to pump deep inside you, brushing repeatedly against your g-spot.

“Do you not like it?” Yoongi smiles slightly, biting his bottom lip while he watches you start to tremble, making the prettiest sounds.

“I do. Why the new name?” Voice a bit unsteady but it does the job. Yoongi thinks of all the times he thought you were as pretty as a flower, which really was all the time. Especially, in the way he has you right now. Pretty, pretty as a flower.

“I’ve always wanted to call you that. You’re pretty, sweet, delicate. Just like a flower.” He justifies his reasoning and you melt into puddles.

“Yoongi.” Voice sweet as honey.

“Yes baby.” He replies with ease.

“Make love to me, Yoongi.”

There was a time in his life where Yoongi believed he could live without love. How foolish of him to think so. When he met you, it was a complete three-sixty. Suddenly, Yoongi started to look forward to his shit job. He looked forward to that time between breaks where he could admire you from the back like a pinning loser. Yoongi even started to like the walks he had to take to get to work because he knew that the path would eventually lead to you. He started looking forward to tomorrow's and to the bright future that led ahead. His mom would often complain that he was wasting his life away waiting for it to start, but Yoongi thinks life truly started the day he met you.

It was a bit awkward because you couldn’t even look him in the eyes, intimated by the staff and new environment. You had previously worked in different bars so you assumed it would be no different and it wasn’t, but the intimidation of a new job was there nonetheless. Yoongi was there every step of the way. He had a crush on the new employee and you needed help on fitting in. Either way, your friendship was very platonic until it wasn’t.

Yoongi knows he should have said something along the lines “hey, maybe we shouldn't be doing this anymore. I’m in love with you and I have been since you started working here” but the stupid words never made it out. He felt it would be too much to hear and it would only make him look like a complete loser.

And you felt the same. It was silly really, because everyone around you knew it and there was no reason to fear someone as easy going and non-judgemental as Yoongi, nonetheless it brought you both here. After many failed dating attempts, you were finally happy and in the arms of someone who you truly love and want to be loved by.

There was a time in his life where Yoongi believed he could live without love, now Yoongi believes your precious, sweet love brought him back to life and he wouldn’t trade it for anything in the world.

Clothes now discarded on the floor, heavy breathing filling the room, and Yoongi could get wasted on the smell of your intoxicating perfume. “Breathe flower.”

Yoongi felt you shiver at the sound of his words, throwing your head back as he thrusts you full of cock. He pushes inside you with gentle movements, struggling to keep himself up while feeling the tug of your warm velvet-like walls.

You gasp feeling him hit your cervix in a calm, slow pace. It was breathtaking regardless of the gentle rhythm. “You’re so deep...”

“I know flower, breathe baby, breathe.” He is struggling to keep from coming inside you, overwhelmed by his own emotions as your eyes roll back, feeling the pressure rise in your belly. Without a condom, everything feels so different from other times, feeling every ridge and crease fold inside your drenching heat. You take him so nicely, like you always have. Like you’ve always belonged to him.

You don’t even notice you stopped breathing until you start feeling lightheaded and desperate for fresh air. Breathing just as much as necessary so you don’t faint, you shake your head against his hold, his eyes watch yours, observing with curiosity.

“No?”

“Mm, n-no.” You shake your head again, whimpering when you feel him kiss your cervix with his swollen tip, over and over and over. “Can– can you…”

“Can I what, pretty flower?” Yoongi rolls his hips a bit faster, feeling his orgasm build too quickly. He wishes he could have days with you like this always. Days to love and worship you from head to toe.

“Choke me.” You manage to say. “Don— don’t wanna breathe.”

Yoongi growls deep, increasing his speed even more, desperate to fill the deepest part of your glistening folds. He feels you tense underneath, the sounds coming from your mouth are loud enough for your neighbors to hear, but Yoongi stopped giving a fuck about everything around him.

He places a hand on your throat and squeezes gently, not blocking off your airways completely, but leaving you just enough air to work with. It drives you insane. The more you breathe, his rough thrusts take the air out from your lungs and the process repeats. It feels so good.

“M-more. Harder.” You barely hear your own words, but Yoongi seems to understand because his dick is moving rapidly inside you, nearly splitting you in two. You wrap both hands around his wrist, loving the heavy weight against your chest. It’ll end too soon and it disappoints you in a way, but you have all the time in the world to make this up. “G-Gonna come.”

Yoongi nods, concentrating on the way your face scrunches with pleasure. With love. The way your eyes tell him a story. God, Yoongi’s madly in love. “Come, my precious flower.”

With those final words, you come on his bare slick cock, blossoming in the blissful afterglow. Yoongi doesn’t stop thrusting inside you, but he takes his hand off your throat, kissing your face gently when he sees tears start leaking down your cheeks.

“It’s okay, you’re okay baby. Breathe for me. Slowly.” Yoongi’s words bring you back down and you throw your arms around him, crying against his shoulder. You don’t even know what invoked this strong emotion to sob your eyes out, but Yoongi allows it, caressing the back of your head. Yoongi doesn’t judge, he only holds you until you settle down. “It’s okay baby, let it out. Breathe, pretty flower.”

“C-Come inside muh-me, please.” Even after all that, you still beg for him and Yoongi wants to laugh but for your sake and the fact that it’s endearing to him, he delivers accordingly without further questions.

Right as he’s going to paint your walls white, he pushes himself up with one hand, still holding you with the other. “You sure?”

You’re confused about the sudden question, the tears still decorate your face but then you understand. “Birth control. Just come in me Yoongi, fuck me, fu-fuck.”

Yoongi doesn’t hesitate to regain his brutal pace, fucking you with purpose. Not that he doesn’t want kids in the near future, but he sure as hell doesn’t want any right now. He’s glad you are on the same page but maybe one day the conversation would spark and he wouldn’t want the mother of his kids to be anyone else but you. You were perfect for him.

“Gonna come.” That’s the only warning you get, then he’s emptying himself inside your tight walls. He doesn’t stop rolling his hips, his slit leaking puddles, until he’s pumped himself dry. With one last thrust, he groans and carefully pulls out.

He brings you with him, head falling against his chest as he continues to play with your hair, leaving kisses into your bare shoulders. “You okay baby?”

“Perfect. Feel so good.” You mumble into his skin, feeling around his waist. “I’m leaking your come into the sheets though.”

“I’ll take care of it, pretty flower.” You nod sleepily into his chest with a quiet ‘thank you’, feeling completely sated and satisfied, aching with exhaustion. “Sleep baby, I got you.”

With that, you fall deep into the shackles of sleep. Yoongi rubs your back until you completely fall asleep in his arms. He struggles to unwrap himself from your hold, but when he finally succeeds, he tucks you in and kisses your cheek a few times before getting up to clean up after the mess you both created.

He’s light on his feet, bringing a warm towel to your slick folds and wipes as best he can, being gentle so you could continue to enjoy your sleep. Even like this, you look so beautiful and Yoongi is an extremely lucky man.

Yoongi makes sure to also pick up the lamp he dropped from earlier as well. He blows out a breath of relief when he notices that the damage is nothing big and nothing that can’t be fixed. He’ll make sure to fix that as soon as he can.

While he’s out there, Yoongi places the tulips into a vase and fills it with water, placing it near a window where it could grow and blossom beautifully near the sunlight. He even cuts the tips into slants because he had heard somewhere online they last longer that way, making sure to get rid of any dead leaves and petals. Yoongi couldn’t be happier.

After he’s done with the light cleaning, he washes his hands and feels the exhaustion hit him tenfold. He’s careful when placing himself back in bed, lifting your arm and placing himself underneath you. The man smiles when he feels you curl yourself around him, sleeping soundlessly.

“I love you.” He whispers and even though you don’t say it back Yoongi feels it with the way you melt into his arms. Yoongi falls asleep easily that night.

…

“Baby.” Yoongi hears someone call him and he ignores it. Sleep calls his name louder and he doesn’t feel like waking up right now so he groans and cuddles deeper into the bedsheets below him, unaware of the life around him.

“Baby wake up.” You keep calling sweetly and it’s tempting but he persists.

“No. Don’t wanna.” Yoongi grumbles like an old man and you can’t help but to laugh. “Just ten more minutes.”

When you woke up the next morning, you were so thankful Yoongi had kept his promise. Your apartment was flawless and you were as clean as you could be. The tulips looked prettier today as the sun shined on the delicate petals. You even had time to warm the seaweed soup he brought from home and you couldn’t wait to get a taste. The smell alone is delicious and it warmed your home up nicely, you truly couldn’t wrap your head around the fact that this was no longer a dream but your reality. You could definitely get used to this.

You drop kisses onto his warm cheeks until his eyes flutter open, almost similar to a cat. “There you are.”

Yoongi pulls you into his arms again with quiet noncoherent grumbles and closes his eyes once more. “Give me ten minutes.”

“It’s already been ten.” You whisper lightly laughing.

“Oh. Ten more then.” You get comfortable on his chest and cuddle for a bit longer because you can’t say no to his cute sleepy self.

Yoongi starts to sniff the air with curiosity. “Is that the seaweed soup I brought you?”

“Mhm.” You hum. “Better get up soon before it burns.”

That manages to be convincing enough and Yoongi forces himself up, with you in his embrace.

“Wanna wake up like that forever.” He says, voice filled with sleep.

“You can.”

Yoongi snaps his heavy eyes towards you. “Are you–”

“Move in with me, Yoongi.” Yes, you skipped every step to this, but nothing was ever to code between you and Yoongi. One thing you were so sure of and that was spending the rest of your life with him. “Please.”

“I- yes, of course.” Yoongi wraps his arms around you for a tight hug, kissing your temple. “I love you. I love you and I’ll prove it to you every single day.”

“I know, I love you too. I love you.” Those three words come out from your mouths so easily and it’s nice that you no longer have to ever hold back. The man of your dreams is in the palms of your humble home and he’s in love with you. This was better than any dream.

“Let’s eat?” He says after some time of hugging and kisses being interchanged.

You nod, letting him take you there. Your kitchen is filled with the cruel aroma of food and your tummy rumbles as you sit comfortably while you wait for him to serve you a bowl of the warm tasty soup.

“I should be doing that. I’m a terrible host.” Yoongi shakes his head while smiling, the fluff of hair moving with him, then your phone dings. “Hold on, give me a second.”

Your heart drops when you see it is a Tinder notification from a man you promised to get back to. You look over to find Yoongi serving your bowl, making his way to the table. He leans in puckering slightly and you immediately lean into the sweet sudden kiss while he places your meal in front of you. This Yoongi is new because it wasn’t often you could act domestically towards one another, however this was perfect and just what you needed.

“Everything okay baby?” Yoongi asks while caressing your soft cheek and you immediately nod in his palm.

“Yes, everything’s perfect.” You reply in awe. “Thank you Yoongi, for everything.”

For letting me love you and for loving me back.

The older man just smiles and joins you for the meal.

It turns out you didn’t need Tinder after all.

You quickly delete the app off your phone and start to eat with the love of your life, conversation flows while you enjoy each other’s presence and fall deeper in love.

Alike Yoongi, you couldn’t imagine it happening any other way. You were bound to fall in love, one way or another, but that man was meant to be yours as you were meant to be his.

#yoongi fanfic #yoongi fluff #yoongi smut #bts fanfic #yoongi x reader #bts fluff #bts x y/n #yoongi x y/n #yoongi x you #bts smut

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artdcnaldson · 3 months

Note

looove the patrick’s sister au where art is super mean to her but hear me out im having thoughts and behaving in ways

im gonna emoji sign this if i may just in case you’d like to enable me

alt au where patricks sister is just super super mean and unapologetic like patrick. think sarah michelle gellar in cruel intentions kinda. like fully a bitch and she has a craaazy corruption kink with repressed art

like mayyybee patrick mentioned art wanting to save himself for marriage or smth like that to her and her brain goes brrrrrr i need to defile him… maybe everytime arts at their house she’ll like flirt with him unabashedly… suck on lollipops while looking him in the eye… rub her ass against him pretending to reach for things… and her just having so much fun when he gets all red and flustered and hard :(

idk just some thoughts

- 🐚 (if its available)

This made me need to take a walk. Had to crack open a cold Diet Coke to address this.

But yeah :(( art comes to stay with you and Patrick a lot for summers and holidays since, y’know, he can’t exactly stay at his grandmother’s nursing home.

You and Patrick have lived in the pool house forever— pool house is actually a stupid name for it. It’s a guest house, two full bedrooms, a kitchen, a living room, a whole loft upstairs. It’s obscene how fucking rich you two are.

And he gets so squirmy when he’s around you and Patrick, but even more when it’s just the two of you alone. He’s been staying up in the loft, pads down the stairs after a lazy, midday nap. And it’s just you on the couch, watching a movie. It’s dark, maybe he slept later than he thought he did.

“Where’s Pat?”

You shrug, pat the sofa beside you. He sits, but leaves an entire cushion between the two of you. “I think he’s fucking the neighbor. The one with the cute curly hair.” Art flushes, ducks his head. You smile, showing off pretty teeth. “Aw… I’m sorry, should I have said he’s making love to the neighbor?”

“Shut up,” he mutters. He’s pink to the tips of his ears.

It’s interesting, you think, that he told Patrick he’s saving himself. It’s sweet, very… admirable. But it’s such a fucking waste. He looks so yummy in his flannel pajama pants and grey tank top that shows off his muscles.

“So, you’re a virgin?” You ask, turning to face him. His eyes go wide before his face twists in annoyance. He splutters out weak— what did Pat say— That’s none of your business— you’re so out of line— but you interrupt. “No need to be shy about it, Art. I think it’s… very cute you want to wait until your wedding night. I’m sure you’ll have a really riveting time figuring out where it goes.”

“Shut up.” It’s the second time he’s said it that night. He really needs to work on his comebacks.

“I can give you a hint,” you say with a grin, scooting across the empty cushion until your knees touch. “There are two main holes down there, and it’s the one that gets all slick and wet when she’s turned on.” He clenches his jaw, looks away.

You laugh and sit back, only slightly. “Aren’t you going to thank me for the tip?”

He turns back, eyes narrowed. “You’re not very funny.”

“Was I joking?” You trail a finger up his arm, give him a crooked smile. “Really, Art, it’s sweet. Maybe I should’ve saved my virginity for a nicer boy instead of losing it in the golf cart shed at the country club.”

He stammers. “You— you could always—“ he can’t even meet your gaze, it’s too humiliating. The smug expression you wear pins him in place. “Start now. Promise to not have sex anymore, not until it’s with someone you love. It’s— it’s more special that way.”

You stick out your bottom lip. “You think I deserve special?” You ask softly. He shivers as your fingers trace swirls onto his chest. “That I need candles and rose petals and soft jazz music when someone stuffs me full of their cock?”

It’s too precious. Too good. His cheeks flame and he sits back. He stands suddenly, doesn’t even look at you as he marches back upstairs. You grin and listen to the sound of the shower turning on upstairs.

You wait until you hear the scrape of the shower curtain closing to pad upstairs and sit outside of the door. A smug grin spreads across your lips at the sound of him jerking off.

All whiny, poorly muffled moans, the slick sound of him beating his dick. All, ah! ah! ah! oh, fuck! god— fuck! You can tell when he cums based on how pitchy and whiny he gets, and the way you hear his head knock against the tile.

You fight the urge to let him know you heard, instead you slip back downstairs. When he comes down, you’ve switched the movie, act like you’d never left at all. You can see the guilt in his expression, like he knew he’d done something bad.

God, he’d be so easy.

#🐚 anon #corrupting art au #NEEDTHAT #WANTTHAT #CRAVETHAT

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tadpoleteef · 6 months

Text

gamer girl 👾

18+ MINORS DNI

word count: 1.5k

pairing: austin x female!reader

warnings: SMUT, oral (m receiving), lil fem dom???, unprotected sex

summary: austin’s playing video games with friends and isn’t paying attention to you. long story short you end up trying to dom him which obvi doesn’t go far and then you ride him in his gaming chair yassssss.

a/n: hiii so i’ve been reading fan fiction for years and i’ve always wanted to write it. i wrote an austin butler one shot like 2 years ago, posted it, but it was just awful so i deleted it. then i had a the summer i turned pretty phase, and wrote a one shot about jeremiah fisher confessing his love to you. this story was also deleted because of how just awful it was. anyway, i think my writing has gotten a little better soooo here’s a little smut one shot for ya.

꒦꒷♡꒷꒦

it was around 8pm on a saturday night, and you and austin were at home, spending the rest of your night in your little apartment. you were sitting on your bed in a short white lace nightgown, scrolling through instagram. austin was across the room sitting at his desk, playing a game on his xbox. he had been playing for a little while now, screaming at his friends into the microphone and raging everytime he had to redo the level.

getting a little tired of his lack of attention, you put your phone down and walked over to where he was sitting. you stood behind him, rubbing his shoulders gently. he relaxed into your touch, leaning back into the chair with his eyes still locked on the screen in front of him. you leaned down to his ear and whispered,

“are you having fun, handsomel?”

it took him a second to respond, so you tapped his shoulder lightly which made him look back at you then back at the screen.

“uh- what? oh yeah im fine sorry im about to die”

right when he said that the tv went black and the words “game over” illuminated the screen. you could hear his friends complaining through the microphone. he threw the controller down on the game, rubbing his eyebrows and letting out a sigh.

you giggled a little bit, it was funny to see a grown man get so upset over a video game. “it's okay love, just try again” you spoke. he turned around with a stern look, “i can’t just fuckin’ try again, it’s gonna take me hours to redo all this.”

you were a little taken back by his harsh tone, so you took your hands off his shoulders and rolled your eyes, annoyed that the game was getting more attention than you. you layed back on the bed staring at the ceiling. you weren’t upset that austin was choosing his game over you right now, i mean he worked practically everyday so he needed a break sometimes, you were just craving him. jeez, when were you not? you wanted his touch, his lips on yours and his domination. you wanted him right now and that was the only thing going through your mind. acting on your thoughts you walked over again but this time you stood in front of him, between him and the desk.

“baby- could you please move?” he moved his head to the left and right trying to see around your waist. you stepped closer and put your legs through the arm holes of the chair, lowering yourself onto his waist. you were now facing him, your chests together as he looked at the screen with a confused, mad look. He kissed your cheek then laid his chin on your shoulder, pressing down the buttons on the controller. you smirked knowing he had no idea what was about to come.

you started off light, moving your hips back and forth. you weren’t sure if he knew you were even moving so you applied some more pressure, fully sitting on his dick. “guys over there ov-” he stopped mid sentence. with your smirk growing bigger, you went faster, now basically dry humping him. he switched the mic setting so it was on mute and questioned “what are you doing?”

you looked at him and took off the straps of your nightgown, letting it fall down to your waist, showing off your matching white undergarments. he looked at you up and down, drinking in your figure. you had him wrapped around your finger.

you bent down to is ear and whispered, “you’re gonna sit still and act normal while i take your dick, sound good?” you cocked your head to the side, awaiting his response. he looked up at you with a shocked expression, coming from your dominance toward him. “i like it when you’re bossy.” he squeezed your thigh. “and you didn’t answer my question.” you added to his compliment. he gave you the ‘let’s see what you got look,’ and you knew you had the okay. you took a little less pressure off his waist so he could pull down his sweatpants, boxers following.

you sat down so his member was resting, hard, against your stomach. you looked away from his piercing eyes and spat onto the tip, slowly taking your thumb and spreading it around. he bit his lip and closed his eyes for a split second taking in the feeling. he snapped out of his trance quickly when his friends started yelling at him for his inactivity.

he went to respond but you stroked his cock slowly and he but his lip to hide back a moan and put the mic on mute again. you bit the inside of your cheek trying not to smile after seeing how much pleasure he was receiving. he let out a low groan when you cupped his balls slowly. you stopped your hands, looking at him. he quickly mouthed “sorry” as he disobeyed you. “not one noise from you” he nodded and you stroked him again.

after a few minutes of austin holding back moans, you could tell he was close, he was barely even focusing on the game anymore, mostly on the way your fingers gently warmed his cock. you stopped and stood up moving your panties to the side. he furrowed his eyebrows, needing more of your touch.

“how bad do you want it?” you rubbed your clit slowly in front of him. he looked down at your hand then back up at you. “really really bad” he took one hand off his controller and grabbed your waist. you switched the settings so the mic was now on and got close to it, “hi boys, austins not feeling to well, gonna let him get some rest.”

after you finished your sentence austin said bye then immediately smashed his lips into yours. the kiss was sloppy but deep, both just focusing on grabbing whatever skin you could. he pulled away and rubbed the tip against your clit gently. you sucked in a breath, knowing that meant he wanted you now. you moved forward a little more and slowly sat down. you two had just had sex two days ago but every time he first entered you, it was like you were a virgin all over again. he was without a doubt big, stretching you out as you finally sat all the way down on his cock. you moaned and let your head fall back.

wanting more, you moved your hips back and forth, placing your hands on his chest. “does that feel good angel?” he questioned, blue eyes staring into yours. “yes, oh yes” you started to go faster, austin saw your need and started fucking up into you. at the angle you two were sitting at, he was hitting your g spot with the first thrust. your moans turned into screams as he hammered into you.

“oh my god aus that's so good” you moaned and he smirked and then faster, the room becoming hotter by the second. he took one of your hands and pressed it against your stomach hard. you could feel his dick going in and out of you. “you feel my big my dick fucking your pretty pussy? gonna put a fuckin’ baby you mama”

his words brought you over the edge, and he could tell you were about to cum. he circled your clit with his fingers taking one last glance at your gorgeous body being destroyed before you cried out a moan. your orgasm sent a hot flash through your whole body. your legs were shaking and your heart was racing. without even thinking you got off austin and got on your knees in front of him, trying to help him out.

he laughed, “such a good girl helping me out” he made a makeshift ponytail with your hair and was forcing your head down. the sounds coming out of your mouth were erotic. girks and glugs filled the room and you could feel tears streaming down your face. his dick started to twitch in your mouth and you grabbed his balls again. you felt the warm cum coat your throat before you tasted it. you swallowed and took your head off him, sitting back onto your calves.

he leaned forward into the chair, grabbing your chin and making you look up at him. He had never seen anything more sexy. your hair was all frizzy, mascara running down your face onto your neck, and a mix of his cum and spit spilling down your lip. He wiped it off with his thumb and then placed it in your mouth and you sucked the mixture off.

“you really thought you could dominate me?” he laughed and helped you up, sitting you down on the bed.

“hey, i had you for like the first 10 minutes” you responded smilining.

he wiped you up, got you all clean, and took you to bed. you two ended the night off by having multiple little tickle fights, and arguing over which board game you should play next weekend. right before you drifted off you heard austin's voice softly say.

“I will admit, domination by y/n y/l/n is something we should do more often.” his words took you by surprise, but you smirked and snuggled closer to him.

yep, wrapped around your finger

#austin butler #austin butler x reader #austin butler x reader smut

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sydneymykah · 16 days

Text

☆☆THE STRUGGLE OF ROUTINE ☆☆

✧─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ──

Some people can just get out of bed and automatically do what they need to do to get the day started. And the same people seem to be the ones we see the most on our screens. "My Morning Routine", "My weekly regimen", "What I eat in a day", and "My Nightly Routine". These people are seemingly put together and perfect like their said routines. But here you are slouched on your undone bed, still in your pajamas, wearing makeup from the day before after waking up after 12 pm. You meaning me, lmao. ☆...

☆The struggle of routine is something we all face regardless of what social media persists to tell us. But I don't really want to talk about how "social media is fake" because that's not even fully true. Some people really do live like this and have very structured routines for their day to day lives, granted it's what pays their bills but that's still technically their routine. But I'm more concerned about talking about how DIFFICULT it is to keep a constant routine. Especially in this weird time we live in.

ミ★I'm a perfectionist. I hate when things don't go the way I want and I tend to want things one way or not at all. But life doesn't live by those rules. Life will throw whatever the hell it wants at you, whenever it feels like it. As an individual you have to learn to work around it all. For me it's an inconsistent work schedule, minor (or major) inconveniences, mood swings, and of course the main culprit is laziness/lack of discipline.

☆We've all done it. On a random day of the week you're up way too late reflecting on your life and what you're doing with it. You suddenly feel the hyperactive urge to fix everything about yourself. You want the perfect body before the summer. You want your hair to grow longer faster. You want to get all your life goals written down and planned out dow not the last minute. You want to post a 1 minute video everyday on TikTok at exactly 3 pm EST and post at least 4 pictures to your instagram every other day. So you open the notes app and make an extremely specific, unrealistic, and way too intense routine to follow everyday. You set reminders, add 30 new alarms to your phone, you fill your amazon cart with stuff you believe you'll defiantly use. And after you make yet another playlist of YouTube workout videos you go to bed confident your life is gonna change forever after this...

Now one of two things happen:

You completely throw away the routine the minute you wake up the next day

Or, you do it for a few days but eventually burnout and find yourself back where you were before, now with just more useless junk you have no room for...

ミ★I have personally been both. But we can all empathize with this because if maintaining a routine was easy it wouldn't be such a successful phenomenon online. Out of the millions of views under "my morning routine" posts, many, if not majority, of them are people who wish they can live the way these people do. I think we as people have developed mindsets that are negative first, positive later. Ever since the quarantine we've been used to online overconsumption. The idea that "more is better", and the scare that was the virus has sparked this fear in us that is wasted time. Hence us wanting to build new giant routines in the middle of the night just to eventually abandon it because our minds and bodies don't evolve or develop like that overnight. Most the time the routines are grueling and just makes us feel exhausted over accomplished. When we don't see immediate change a lot people, including myself, give up then and there.

☆Im not here to tell you how to keep a constant routine or how to become more disciplined because all that information is in the palm of your hands. Honestly at the end of the day it's about your mindset. Realizing what is around you and remembering the reality you live in. You want that body? You want that hair growth? You want to post? It's all possible but here's where the issue lies:

ミ★We forget to forgive ourselves and to be patient with ourselves. We fall under the pressure to perform for social media as well. In this digital age we try to make social media real life 24/7 and put real life on the back burner. Everything must be aesthetic or else! Or if you can't keep a constant routine for a week you're a failure! But the reality is no one just wakes up in their perfect aesthetic one day and has this perfect routine down pat the first time. Another thing that we keep doing is what everyone else is doing. Another example of putting the online first before real life. We've forgotten the beauty of growth, and how things develop overtime. It reminds me of how small artists have the potential to blow up overnight. They suddenly have all these eyes on them and then the GP turns on them simply because their exceptions don't match the artist's personal growth. I think we do the same to ourselves. But regardless of what other people, social media or even what you might even say to yourself the best way to find a good routine is get to know yourself, not someone else. And to not go by others expectations. It's good to hold yourself to a high regard and to make ambitious goals. But you should remind yourself that you want this to last and you don't want to burn yourself out trying to perfect your life like it's a speed run.

☆When following creators who makes content like this I advise to follow people you relate to first. Not saying you can't follow those extremely aesthetic ASMR morning/Night routine videos because hell I watch them too. But know that I watch them for simply that. I've come to the point where I can watch that stuff and not feel incompetent or that I'm failing in life but I digress. Don't pay attention to the many trends and what's hot, just look for people who you might see yourself in, or people who have qualities similar to yours. Physically, mentally, ect. Because if you're a black girl who wants to know how to do a specific 4C hairstyle you're not going to the white girl influencers for tutorials are you? For me I watch Jackie Aina. Her and I don't even have the same tastes in certain aspects, specifically clothing and home decor but she reminds me a lot of myself and some of my values. Her content inspires me but doesn't make me feel like I need to reinvent myself overnight. That's not realistic nor healthy. I think subjecting yourself to that will just give you an identity crisis. Her content helps me feel confident and you should follow people like that too.

ミ★My purpose of this post is not "continue to be a slob" (I'm a Taurus stellium and Venusian. Girl we don't do that over 'chere.) it's to remind and to encourage. A reminder that what you see online isn't what real life is 24/7. Doesn't mean it's all fake, it just means that life doesn't just look like one thing. Social media just tends to make our vision a bit tunneled. Yes, some peoples lives surround what they eat in a day, what they do when they get out of bed, and the steps they follow in their nighttime skincare routine. But our attachment and overconsumption to these types of creators constantly fails to remind us that they're still human. Hell even when the human creators tell y'all "hey I'm human" they still aren't treated as such but guess what? They are! So are you. You are still human. Finding a groove that works for you will take time. And many times you will fail. You will probably forget to do something, you won't have the time for certain tasks, or an inconvenience will pop up out of no where that knocks you off course. But if at first you don't succeed, try again. Social media picture perfect propaganda (lol) has made us forget that life happens and that we will essentially always struggle with routine. Some things stick, some things don't. Some routines last a long time, some only stay for a day. We live in an age where everyone's trying to move as fast as they can to keep with the trends, keep up appearances, and to make up for lost time. And as much as I love the thrill of the fast life, how can I expect to see my growth, what I like, what needs changing and how to fall into a good rhythm when I'm too busy trying to keep up.

✧─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ──

Xoxo, Sydney Mykah -☆

#music #music blog #musician #my music #cover song #sydney mykah #blog post #morning routine #self care #self care routine #daily routine #wellness routine

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thecapricunt1616 · 2 months

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Knock knock 🚪✊- Is anyone out there?! For some reason the bug has only been biting me to write late at night, so I’m sorry I’ve been posting so late lately (lol) but I hope that some lip smutty fluff brightens up your morning! (p.s. ; yes I know there are still 17 asks rotting away in my box. I prooomise I’m getting to them. I’m wanting to do asks how I usually do them, which is giving you an 8-10k plot instead of just what I can write on my phone since I don’t have a laptop at the moment, but I swear im trying to get a new one suuuuper soon!!! I love you all!!)

I’ve been thinking all day, probably since it is Carnival season after all - about how fun it would be to go to a Carnival with Lip over summer break, or even take a roadtrip to Cedar Point together and make a whole week out of it?! Eeee our prince deserves some fun time! I just know he’s the kind that is such a kid at heart, he grew up with so many siblings! He also has Frannie around, so he would totally love stuff like that (more BTC)

(Warnings for BTC: AFAB reader, No physical attributes for reader are described other then r/ has long hair, Smut!!!, No use of Y/N {r/ goes by pet names like baby, sweetheart, honey, etc.}, Fluff {happy lip!!}, Established relationship, College!Lip, sweet older-brother vibes from Lip, vomiting (r throws up cotton candy, it’s not too bad or long though!) , No ‘typical’ Gallagher drama to be found! {giving our mans a break!!} , not heavily edited, sweet/caring BF!Lip) [if I missed any please let me know in the comments!]

So you’d get there probably just as the sun is setting ‘because that’s the most romantic time to go’ he’d teased, in your ear earlier that afternoon between heavy needy kisses that you shared the moment he’d gotten home from work and he tugged you up to his bedroom since the house had been empty, he was going to use that time ever wisely.

He had been talking up this grand fun night together when the Carnival Fair was finally coming to town that weekend. It was going to be a wonderful chance for you and him to get some nice time alone, especially after finishing out your spring semester of school and having the summer off. He’d been working the summer at Patsy’s, so he told you he was gonna have all the money a girl could dream to get cotton candy and funnel cake since you’d gushed about how when you were a kid those were your favorite to get.

He had wrapped his beat up Jean jacket around your shoulders as you walked after he bought your tickets, even though it was nearing the middle of August and during the day summer was in full swing - fall had already begun to creep in at night causing goosebumps to arise on your arms. “Have I ever told you what a gentleman you are, Gallagher?” You kiss his cheek gently and he chuckled, shaking his head a bit

“Takin’ care of you is my job baby.” He wrapped his arm around your shoulder, kissing your head gently as you waited in line together to get a big bag of cotton candy to share.

“Well you’re really good at that job- you should give yourself a promotion” you held up your left hand jokingly, wiggling your ring finger and he lets out a chuckle, heat creeping to his cheeks that you couldn’t help but feel a rush of pride in your chest for being the reason of.

“I promise I will promote myself as soon as I can find it in the budget” he mused, lacing your fingers together as you head up to the counter and the guy a few years younger then the two of you asked what he could get for him- and he looked at you “you still want the bag one, yea?” He confirmed.

You looked at lip like he had hung the moon in the sky that night, you usually looked at him that way. How he was so kind, and attentive in the way he loved you. How he yearned to take care of you, he wanted nothing more than to make you happy. He made you the happiest girl in the world just by remembering you told him cotton candy was your favorite fair treat so getting right in line for it with you the moment you got there. Because it was what you liked, what made you happy.

“Yes, thank you baby” you planted a little kiss on his neck, since you couldn’t reach his lips when he wasn’t ducking his head to kiss you as he handled the paying and the conversation. Being taken care of had become routine for you, pampered- loved. That’s how you felt when you were around lip, loved- and seen.

Your next stop after sitting and munching on cotton candy until you nearly gave yourself a tummy ache, causing Lip to have to tie off the rest of the bag yo keep your sneaky fingers from getting in when he wasn’t looking - was the strongman game.

You giggle and point “Babyyyyy! You’re so strong- look at that cute pink unicorn!! I can cuddle it when you’re at work! Pleeeeease Lip, can you win it for me baby? Pretty pleeeease?” You beg sweetly, wrapping your arms around the back of his neck and kissing along his jaw to sweeten the deal.

He chuckled a bit, looking at the top rack where said obnoxiously large unicorn was zip tied to the grate, looking down at you before back up at it and sighing a bit to himself “I can win it - but do I particularly wanna carry it around the rest of the night?” He looked down at you again to see your fluttering lashes and pouty bottom lip.

“For your lady? For your bestest girl in the whole world? Pleeeease? You work too much who am I gonna snuggle!” You stand on your tip toes and peck his lips “if I was strong enough to do it myself I would but I need my big strong man to do it for me” you emphasize for added pizazz and he snorts a laugh, patting your ass playfully and giving it a squeeze.

“You are a damn good manipulator” he teased as he dug out his wallet, grabbing a 5 dollar bill that it costed for the three swings “gimme a real kiss- y’know, luck and shit” he puckered his lips, ducking his head and you giggle, happily squeaking as you plant a juicy loving kiss on his lips, your hand finding the back of his neck and stroking gently

“Thank you best boyfriend in the world” you giggle happily and stood to the side as he handed the guy the money

“So uh- what do I need to do f’the horse” he nodded at the pink unicorn with a rainbow tail.

“It’s a unicorn, baby!” You remind and he rolled his eyes playfully

“The fuckin unicorn, then, what do I need t’do” he asked the man running the game booth

“Have to get 100% on one of your 3 tries.” He explained, putting the money in the cash box and Lip nodded

“Easy enough” he picked up the mallet, rolling his shoulders a few times to stretch them out.

“You got this baby!!!” You clap happily and watch as he takes his first swing and the little piece races up and hits 96% causing you to jump up and down happily “Good job baby!!!” You giggled and he smiled at your sweet, encouraging reaction even for something as silly as a carnival game, something he always adored about you is your undying support and encouragement for the people you love. He always felt when you were around that he could just be himself and somehow, that was enough, all on its own.

“Not bad for a first swing ‘eh?” He mused with a playful cockiness and since it wasn’t all too common someone could really get 100% on the thing, a small crowd of 5 or so carnival goers had stopped to see if he was going to get it.

“Not bad at all, I’m already thinking of names for our soon to be adopted unicorn baby” you said and he chuckled a bit, lifting his arms to take his next swing and you couldn’t help but realize how the hem of his black T-shirt rode up when he did, exposing his v-line and happy trail just a bit. You bit your lip gently at the sight, also not missing the sexy little grunt that left his throat when he used all his strength slamming down on the platform with the mallet.

The little knob races up and pangs the bell, announcing that Lip had in fact hit the 100% threshold - breaking you out of your lustful gaze and dirty thoughts that nearly constantly plagued your mind when he was around, the man was walking sex - how could you deny yourself? You gasped and cheered, rushing up to Lip and jumping into a hug “Baby! Oh my god, I love you! I knew you could do it!” You laughed excitedly, kissing him back passionately as he held you safely around his waist, spinning around with you once and chuckling as he set you down, his cheeks slightly pink when he realized there were still a few stragglers hanging about who had watched him win.

It wasn’t that he wasn’t comfortable with PDA, he actually quite loved showing you off, and showing the fact that you loved him off. It made him feel special, wanted. But the two of you had gotten more then just affectionate, you weren’t just the girl of the month that he was screwing to let off steam. He didn’t even realize that the whole ‘love of your life’ thing was real - or possible for someone like him none-the-less.

But as dopey and love sick as it sounded to him in his head, he knew there are absolutely people out there who aren’t loved as proudly as him by someone like you, so any testament of that love and how lucky he was to have it made his chest swell with pride. You were his girlfriend, his lady. Nothing you could ever do would embarrass him.

“Unicorn, right?” The man asked and you nodded excitedly.

“Baby Glitter Gallagher! Isn’t that so cute? Our very first baby together” you giggle as the man handed over the large stuffed toy and you give it a big hug “thaaaank you lip” you said sweetly

“Baby Glitter - so baby is the first name, glitter is her middle name? Or is it baby-glitter like MarySue or some shit?” He asked, causing you to laugh as you walked with him in search of your next adventure to partake in together.

“BabyGlitter is like MarySue, I’m glad we clarified. She’s absolutely a Gallagher, though. So step up or cough up child support is all I’m sayin’” you joked, earning another adorable chuckle from him.

Your next stop was one that Lip had pointed out, so you felt like it was mandated to stop and partake because it was the first thing he had mentioned on his own since you had gotten here; the zipper ride. You had spent the last 10 minutes in line as you waited for the group in front of yours to go, telling him that you could absolutely handle it.

“Gallagher, are you callin’ me a crybaby?” You teased, playfulness edging your tone. “Cause last I checked I can handle myself, even if I like having a sexy man around to protect me” you smiled, kissing his jaw gently. He chuckled at that, shaking his head and holding his left arm around your waist while his other was holding onto your new member of the family, as well as your remaining cotton candy that was deemed a hostage until at least the end of the night.

“I’m not- I’m not!” He holds the cotton candy up in defense jokingly “I’m just sayin I know you don’t like goin’ upside down is all and if I wanna go on the ride I wanna have fun.. when Ian and I used to ride it we’d be flipping the whole way around it was so fuckin fun.” He chuckled a bit at the memory, bringing a happy warmth to your chest. It was rare that the Gallagher kids got to make real, childhood memories together. So that all the more made you want to do this with him, to be a part of his nostalgia and nurture it the way he always made an effort to be a part of yours.

“Well then I wanna have fun! I’m not a baby we’ll be fine, I have you to protect me” you kiss his cheek as you got to the front of the line waiting to be let on the ride. He gives you a gentle peck on the lips before kissing your cheek

“Don’t say I didn’t warn you, princess” he said, putting your things he had been holding for you over to the side with the rest of the carnival goers. He helped you up the platform steps, always being sure you never tripped and kept your fingers laced, rubbing the back of your hand gently with his hand as the man unlocked and opened the cage door, a creaky noise coming from it as he does so.

“There’s no-“ you swallow thickly when you realize there was no seatbelts, and lip gave you a ‘told you so’ look, allbeit playful, it only egged on your petulant pride and you shrug. “No seatbelts, makes for more fun, right?” You muse, stepping in and lip got in right next to you, your shoulders and arms pressed up against one another.

“That’s the best part” Lip smirked, holding onto the grip bars when the man clanked the door shut, dropping the lock bar in place and you were suddenly moving. Everything was no longer steady, and it felt as if you were trapped in a fan blade rocking back and forth ready to flip over any which way.

“Lip” you said, concern etching your voice. He was right, Lip usually was right, as annoying as it is for you most days. You didn’t particularly like heights, or being spun in circles, and mixing that with being trapped in a tiny metal cage was bringing those fears right to the surface and you weren’t quite sure what made your ego so big before you got on.

“What baby? You scared?” He teased, playfulness edging his voice. He begins to rock his weight back and forth, the whole cage rattling and clanging as he does so. The hinges seem to creak and you can see in your mind the gruesome terror that would unfold if the cage door just so happened to give out.

“Stop- stop it- it’s broken! Don’t you hear it, Lip? We gotta get off!” you said worriedly and he laughed like a masochistic 7 year old boy, rocking his weight more dramatically until you were fully laying down before swinging the other way and laying on said creaky cage door while you look below at the 50 foot drop and knuckles popped from gripping the grab bars on the cage door so hard

He chuckled more “baby it’s fine it’s not gonna break. Cmon let’s do a flip” he said, throwing all his weight back and you squeal as your suddenly hanging upside down and he laughs loudly “woops! Guess we’re stuck till we start moving” he teases and you whine, feet dangling off the floor of the cage

“Phillip Gallagher you’re the meanest boyfriend in the whole world!” You shout, causing him to laugh and you heard a chuckle from the riders below you at your current misfortune

“I thought I was the nicest boyfriend also the proud father of- what was it-“ he’s cut off as the ride starts again to let more riders on and you flip forward, swinging back and forth dramatically as the cage once again balanced your weight. You seized the opportunity to slap his shoulder once you found your footing

“You could have killed us!” You said but couldn’t help the big smile on your lips.

“Then I guess Baby Glitter Gallagher would have been an orphan before she even made it home” he mused, before giving you a kiss on the lips.

“This is why no more cotton candy babe” Lip said gently as he held your hair back and you puke up bright purple lemonade mixed with your blue and pink cotton candy.

“Yeah- kinda pretty though, right like -“ you pause to gag, more sugary neon purple mess splashing into the unfortunate bush you had decided to victimize tonight after your what felt like hundreds of flips on the zipper ride. “I would totally get my nails this color-“ you sniffle, spitting in the bush to rid your mouth of the slimey after puke feeling before standing and wiping your mouth with the back of your forearm.

He chuckled a bit, shaking his head as he dug around in the pocket of his Jean jacket that sat atop your unicorn for safe keeping and pulling out a small flask “open” he tilted your head back and you scrunch your nose, obeying and opening your mouth. “Sorry- but I know Y’gonna wanna kiss me and I don’t want to taste y’vomit babe, as much as I love you” he dribbled a mouthful of vodka in your mouth and you scrunch your face and whine slightly as you swished it around, gargling a bit for good measure before spitting it into the poor little bush and turning back to him to see he was finishing off the flask while you did so before putting it back in his jacket pocket.

“I think you need some water, and we should sit and relax f’r a second ‘huh?” He rubbed your arm gently before pulling you into a comforting hug and kissing the top of your head. You shut your eyes, enjoying the spicy scent of his cologne mixed with the musky earthy scent of tobacco and weed he’d consumed earlier.

“Yeah- but let’s stay over here. Well, maybe not by puke bush. But where it’s quiet. I know you probably want a smoke” you sat down next to a tree and he joined you, resting your unicorn next to his lap

“This fuckin thing is gonna take up my whole side of the bed” he muttered as he dug out his cigarettes and lighter from his pocket, lighting one between his lips

“Mmm, only when you’re not home. Gimme some” you said sweetly. He looked over, pressing his lips to yours in a slow, gentle kiss as he exhaled the smoke into your mouth and you sucked it down graciously, eyes fluttering shut at the short light feeling it gave your mind since you were only getting half of its effects.

“Better be you know I like doin butt rubs after a day at work” he mumbled against your lips before kissing you again, shorter this time because it was inturupted by a giggle from you. He was right, Lip loved to lay in bed in the dark with you, detailing what had went on at work that day while he felt up your ass. It wasn’t strictly sexual, (although a lot of times it ended that way) it was more a…stress toy for him to play with as he went on.

“I love butt rub time. I was actually thinking about that earlier. One of the best times of the day” you wrap your arms around his middle, nuzzling your face in his neck and kissing the warm skin gently as he took another drag.

“Yeah baby?” He kissed your temple gently, squeezing your side and lifting up the helm of your shirt to run his fingers along your bare skin. The action brings goosebumps to your skin, calming but sensual. Your eyes flutter shut at the gentle affections, enjoying the carefree laughter and joyful screams from the carnival a hundred feet or so away, mixing with the gentle quiet sounds of crickets chirping in the woods.

“I love all our time.” You assure him, planting a gentle kiss on his warm broad shoulder.

The next thing you decided to do, after being sure to make a pit stop for ice water and Lip being sure you drank a decent amount - was a calm pretty swing ride. It had a lot of hight to it, but that was mostly so you could get a good view of the city while you swung around at a fast (but not dizzying) pace.

You got in line behind a pregnant mother and her young daughter, who looked to be not much older then Frannie. Smiling to yourself, you thought what it may be like to have kids with Lip some day. You didn’t want that day to be soon, of course. You and Lip had promised eachother that you wanted to finish college. He wanted to make it out of the south side, and while you were a Chicago transplant, you still understood why that was from the stories he told you of their growing up. You wanted to be sure that any family planning would stay far off until you and Lip were both working adult jobs, and had a house or something - when you were real adults.

You hadn’t even realized you’d made it to the front of the line, and were being broken out of your dreamland daze when the little girl stomps her feet “but mommy! We waited all this time! I wanna go on!” She said getting increasingly upset as the ride operator explained that single riders had to be of a certain height

“I know baby but mommy’s belly is too big - I can’t go on it’ll hurt your little sister! I’m sorry, honey. I really am.” The mother tried to explain, and Lip, being the brotherly gentleman he is spoke up.

“Uh- I’ll take ‘er for you, Ma’am - If that’s cool with you- babe are you good on your own?” He asked you and you felt yourself swoon like this was some romance movie and not real life. You nodded with a big smile

“He’s got so many siblings - he’s gonna look after her real well, I’ll sit right behind them!” You gushed and the woman lights up

“Oh gosh- would it be a hassle?” She asked

“Mommyyyy! Please! Pleeeeease!! I’ll listen so good!” She jumped excitedly and the mother looked at Lip before looking back at her.

“Fine- but you better listen! You hear me! Give this nice boy no trouble at all missy” she said, handing her hand over to Lip and she giggled excitedly

“Thank you mister! Thank you sooo much!” She gushed, throwing her arms around his hips and giving him a big hug. You pout at the adorable sight in front of you, following behind to sit in the single seat behind the double they’d be sitting in.

“I’m Marley, I’m 5, what’s your name?” She asked as Lip helped her into the seat before sitting next to her and adjusting the lap bar.

“I’m Lip” he said, causing her to giggle

“That’s a silly name- Lippy lip lip” she repeats as she swings her legs back and forth in that darling childlike way. “Are you a grown up?” She asked him and he chuckled a bit, realizing like when Debbie was little- this carnival ride was going to turn into more of an interrogation then anything else.

“I guess you could say that, yeah.” He said. You watched them with sparkling eyes, a big grin on your face as you saw just how good he was with her. Lip was always good with kids. They took to him because he would usually speak to them how he spoke to other adults (minus as much swearing as he could remember to omit) and that made them feel special, equal. Which is one of the many things he can say he wanted as a kid, and never got. So he did his best to pay it forward.

By the time you’d gotten to the top the wind was louder at the height as you spun so you were no longer able to hear their conversation so clear. You looked at the twinkling lights of Chicago below, trying to see if you could pick out the Gallagher house just by your mental map of the city you’d made in the few years you’d been living here. You did hear though when the girl started giggling wildly, drawing your attention back to them and you saw Lip pretending to be fully limp and dead in the seat next to the girl, tongue hanging out of his mouth and everything.

You shook your head, rolling your eyes at his silly antics. Even though he held up a hard exterior a lot of the time, you knew deep down he was a kid at heart which is why they liked him so much. When you got back down and hopped out of your seat, you greet him with a kiss “did he give you too much trouble?” You asked Marley and she giggled, shaking her head.

“No- Thank you, Lippy Lip” she told him giving him another sweet hug. You returned her to her mother and Lip told her they were welcome to Patsy’s for a piece of pie on the house any time which just made your heart swell even more at how generous and kind he was, even to a stranger he just met.

“You are just the sweetest- thank you so much, Sorry what was your name I never caught it-“

“LIP! Lippy lip lip lip!” The girl sings again, gasping when you came over with your large unicorn “She’s so fluffy I’m gonna die!” She squealed, hugging it tight “what’s its name?” She asked you, looking up with a bright sugar rush smile. This kids gonna sleep good tonight

“Uh- Baby Glitter!” You told her and she smiled

“Baby glitter is perfect” she told you and her mother giggled, a bit nervously at all of her energy likely so far past her bedtime.

“Well, Lip- thank you again. We’re gonna have to check out your restaurant! Alright Marley say goodbye to your new friend we have to go home now I said just one more ride” her mother told her and she pouted, handed your unicorn back over.

“Byeee Lip, I had fun playing with you” she gave him one last hug and you felt like your heart could explode with the way he ruffled her hair and pat her back in such a brotherly way.

“You too kid, be good f’y’r mom heard?” He told her and she nods, taking her mom’s hand and they head off into the crowd.

“You’d be a good dad” you said softly, taking his hand and lacing his fingers with yours. He laughed, shaking his head

“She was just a good kid” he counters.

You’d ended up together at the ferris wheel, luckily it wasn’t one that had to be balanced with weight so you could snuggle up to Lip with his jacket wrapped tight around you and legs over his lap. As soon as you got far enough from the ride operator he even pulled out a cigarette, lighting it and resting his head back as he blew the smoke out.

You sat and just watched him, admiring the way his Adam’s apple bobbed when he swallowed or the way he adorably sniffled once in a while since the poor guy had year round allergies it seemed, and never bothered with Zyrtec or any allergy medicine at all. “You’re pretty” you said softly, chin resting on his pec as you as you watched him.

He chuckled a bit, his cheeks flushing a cute pink. Before you, no one had ever called Lip ‘cute’ - He had been called a plethora of things.

Disobedient, disorderly, rude, loud, obnoxious, violent, a bad influence, a waste of potential -

But pretty? That was something that started (and he told himself very likely ended) with you.

“That’s all you c’mere” he tilted your chin up, giving you a sweet and tender kiss, cupping your cheek with his other hand and stroking his thumb across it. When he pulled from your lips he kissed across your forehead and browbone, down your nose to your cheekbones and then leaving one final lingering kiss on your jaw before having another drag of his cigarette casually. Your heart felt like it was thumping out of your chest, and your belly was swarming with so many butterflies it was as if migration season came early.

But that wasn’t new, it felt like that every day with lip. Ever the gentle, sweet, kind, affectionate man you had yearned for every past boyfriend to be for you. But you figured it was just the universes way of teaching you to appreciate French Vanilla Bean type of love - rich, fulfilling as opposed to the cheap watered down fake chemical crap that comes in a bottle with a squeeze lid.

So many emotions washed over you, gratitude, love, fulfillment, appreciation, but for some reason what won over- was lust. You weren’t quite sure where it came from, but by the time you had stopped at the top, you were in the depths of a passionate, heated makeout session - cigarette long crushed out.

The smoke scent clung to his palms that cradled your cheeks as if you were a fine porcelain doll to be cherished and gently caressed. He hummed softly, disconnecting your lips and soft puffs of breath fanning over your spit-slick lips as his mind short circuited a moment due to your hand trailing down and popping the button of his jeans, and pulling him free of his boxers and pants.

“You sure?” He asked carefully, hands trailing to your shoulders and squeezing them gently as if to silently tell you it was ok if you just got too caught up in the lust of it all. Lip Gallagher - ever the gentleman. In response you gently stroke over him, using the pre that had started to leak out of his hardening pink tip to give yourself some lubricating before reconnecting your lips once more, opening your mouth for him.

A small whine escaped your throat when he slipped his tongue into your mouth, his hips rutting up into your hand subconsciously. His stomach muscles flex under your touch as you slightly tighten your grasp, twisting your hand with each return pass.

Such actions was causing him to lose all resolve. He panted softly into your mouth, licking and sucking your tongue, breaking to grunt softly at the feeling of his dick trying to twitch at the delicious stimulation you provided but being unable to due to the literal grip you had on him.

“Doin’ so good- so fuckin good baby - god. Jesus fuckin Christ. Such a good girl f’me, huh?” He praised, giving you more sloppy kisses to be sure no moans escaped his throat and if they did would be muffled most of the way by your mouth.

You hummed at the praise tilting your head down and letting a glob of spit fall into your hand, using it as added slick to pump your hand faster and he bit his lip, nose scrunching adorably as he tried to hold himself back. “You gonna cum? Mm? Wanna cum in my hand baby?” You said in the shell of his ear hotly before taking the lobe between your teeth, slowing your strokes and rubbing over his sensitive leaky tip with the silky soft pad of your tongue.

The action made his jaw fall slack, head resting over the ledge of the ride and as you started moving again you quickened your pace realizing you were on your decent back to the bottom. “Yeah? Er you want me to swallow it? Hmm? Get on my knees for you-“ you goad, egging on his release.

He looks at you and nodded fervently, rendered speechless by the actions of your hand causing you giggle a bit- getting on your knees and out of sheer routine Lip gathered your hair in a makeshift ponytail and watched as you took him into your mouth, giving his tip sensual little kitten lips and tapping his cock against your tongue making soft wet thudding noises only to be heard by the two of you.

“So fuckin filthy- huh? So eager to have a mouthful’a cum with all these people around?” He eases your head down and you let your jaw fall more slack, swirling and slurping your tongue around him how you’d learned drives him wild.

It wasn’t long of lewd slurping and soft moans of enjoyment coming from you as you continued to get him off, before you felt it.

Success.

You braced yourself as he began using your hair to roughly fuck your face, panting softly as he worked himself through his high. “Jeeeesus - good fuckin’ girl, yeah? That’s my good fuckin girl- my girl” He rambled on as he worked himself through his high. You swirl and slurp around him, swallowing down all you could before he pulled you off

“So fuckin pretty with a mouth full’a’cum, how’s that possible?” He pats your cheek lovingly as you opened your mouth to show the stringy sticky white mess he left. You shrugged a bit, smiling friskely and swallowing, making a show of licking your lips off and he grabbed your jaw, collecting the mix of saliva and cum on your chin with the pad of this thumb before sticking it in your mouth

“Clean it up” he ordered and in turn you sucked the digit clean obediently. “Good girl, now come act decent in front’a’these people, yeah?” He tapped your cheek lightly and fixed his jeans and boxers as you come and plop back down next to him, licking your swollen lips that were adorned with a satisfied smirk as you completed your decent to the bottom

“Mmmm- oh my god literally the trip here was worth it just for this it’s the best” you hum softly, taking another bite of funnel cake from between Lips fingers when he put it to your mouth.

“Can’t lie it’s pretty fuckin good” he said, popping another piece in his mouth.

“Can you believe there are sinners in the world that put marinara sauce on this?!” You said and Lip starts laughing, shaking his head. “What? What!! It’s gross, you like it?” You asked not sure what was so funny

“Baby- babe” he coughs a bit, trying to catch his breath “oh god- y’fuckin kill me, kid. That’s fried dough, people do that with- you’re right, someone would be a fucking psychopath if they put marinara sauce on their cake” he said and you started laughing as well, shaking your head at your own confusion

“I love you” you said, leaning over and kissing his cheek. He blushed a bit, turning his face and giving you a real kiss. A kiss that tasted like tobacco and powdered sugar, and sticky sweet love.

“I love you, baby” he said in that soft low way you loved.

From that year on, the Carnival was a yearly date for the two of you.

A/N: EEE! My longest Lip fic to date!!! I hope you enjoyed, if you did please be sure to like / reblog to let me know ❤️ as always, (kind) critiques & feedback are always SO appreciated! Ilyilyilyyy all!!!

D/C: @carmybrainworms - Wormy stayed up until the wee hours of the morning last night beta reading this for me, Wormy 🪱, thank you for tasting my potatoes so many times!!! I love you down bbg

@mouseymilkovich - Mousey Mouse 🐁! Thank you so much for all your encouragement in writing Lip & inspiring me to do so! I love you so much ❤️

@carmenberzattosgf - My sweetest Martini 🍸, thank you for always lifting me up on hard days, supporting my work, being an all around kick ass friend, and feeding the fandom with your amazing Carmy goodness while I’ve been on this Lip kick! Smooches for days for you (you already know that💋💋💋)

& finally, @daysofyellowroses - my lovely flower 🌼, welcome back to the app baby!!! We missed you so much, even though we’ve been talking BTS, I am happy to see the writing bug has paid you a visit (a very good one that Kerry fic still has me sweating)

#capri writes: Lip ❤️#lip gallagher x you #lip gallagher fluff #lip gallagher fanfic #lip gallagher smut #lip gallagher x reader #lip gallagher #lip gallagher angst #lip Gallagher fic #phillip gallagher

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