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#which turned out to be really fun actually i think im starting to like them
mishapen-dear · 11 months
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skeppy who?
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megumi-fm · 16 days
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#okay random story time i don't know why im narrating this or how i even stumbled upon this memory rn#but i generally do sad vents in the tags and for a change this is a funny one#so back in highschool (i say highschool but i mean junior college) i used to visit this park near my house a lot#i was an sg kid back then and the thing about parks there is that they're kinda beach-parks and they have the best cycling/running tracks#they're also really massive parks so i used to go often. sometimes bicycling. other times walking. yeah. the park was like my sanctuary#anyway. there are quite a few bike rental areas in the park and there was a cute lil shop next to this one particular rental place#and they sold like biscuits and water and icecreams and stuff and i went there a lot#and on one particular day i went there and there was this guy around my age part timing at that shop#now again this might be culture specific bc i dont see it in india but part timing in uni/pre-uni is pretty common is sg#a lot of shops and restaurants employ teenagers to twenty something ppl for part time jobs... anyway im just adding context#point is that i had walked to the park with my mum that day and she told me to go buy a couple icecreams so i went to the shop#and i saw this guy around my age and like. not to be a simp but this dude was so pretty?#like he saw someone had come to the counter so he looked up and shot a smile and i thought i got slapped by sunlight#i could spend the next several lines going on about his pretty tan skin and his glowing raven eyes but this is pathetic enough so ill stop#anyway he saw me and smiled really wide (customer service smile- i thought to myself) and i smiled back and asked for icecreams or whatever#and then this guy started getting chatty right. so he was all 'you come here (to the park) often right? ive seen you with your bike a lot'#see now. the problem with me is that i always think im bothering people. this poor dude was attempting to make conversation#and i was replying with one word answers#and i wasn't even realizing that he didnt want that. bc he kept asking more questions and i. kept. shutting them down.#then when he gave me the icecream he was all 'are you here alone? icecream alone is no fun... i could keep you company if you want..?'#which. he was being really cute about right. but because im so fucking dense i was all 'oh no i came with my mom actually'#and he went 'aw man' in this really cute but faux sad way which i didnt understand at the time and i left and then#after three full fucking days. i realized this man was tryna hit on me?#and then i went to the park like a week later and he was gone. poof. i even thought of asking the uncle in charge of that place#then i got too embarrassed and chickened out#yeah so turns out my neurodivergence neutralizes any sort of rizz that comes my way#i could've been chilling with a cute boyf rn but no😩 this is my destiny#megumi in the tags
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punkitt-is-here · 6 months
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How did you learn to draw fat bodies but still keep it cartoony? I love how you draw different types of bodies and make them all seem normal instead of certain body types sticking out like a sore thumb next to others. I struggle to draw fat bodies without it looking weird with the rest of my art. Do you have a specific tutorial you followed or something?
This is a really good question! I'm glad you like my depictions of different body types, i worked really hard to get better at that so im happy folks enjoy em!! I didn't actually learn from a book or tutorial, it was mostly looking at fat bodies IRL and learning to incorporate those features onto what I already drew. As it turns out, we're all human, so if you understand the anatomy enough to draw a skinny person, you have the tools to understand the anatomy of a fat person.
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So, like, here, this is my sketch of someone with a very average build. If I were to draw a fat body, I would still use all the basic principles I use here. One mistake I think folks run into is "isolating" parts, which can lead to things like this
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which isn't necessarily bad, but if its not what you're going for, the issue is pretty apparent. Weight affects ALL of the body, not just the stomach or the face or the limbs. If you think about how that weight affects everything in tandem then you can start drawing fat bodies that work more in your style.
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for this, this is the same quick sketch using the same pose and principles as the first one. but! I allowed the weight to be distributed across the body. Notice how the legs, belly, arms, etc all got thicker? The key to drawing fat bodies and making them look like they fit is allowing that weight to affect everything. without it, it just looks like you're adding on features to someone rather than considering everything at once.
my other tip is: don't be scared! things like fat arms or chins or bellies or stretch lines are not something that's bad to depict. if you want to draw fat bodies, you gotta not be scared to draw things the way they are. someone having a fat body is not bad, and you drawing that fat body is not bad either. Experiment! To me, art is about representing ideas, and the only way to get better is to experiment with how you represent those ideas. I'm by no means an expert, and I think you can also get a ton done by looking for resources aside from me, but I hope this helps, and have fun!!
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homestylehughes · 2 months
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wanna bet?
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quinn hughes x fem!reader
summray: you make a bet with quinn, which of you will win?
wc: 2.9K
warnings: nsfw 18+ smut, unprotected sex, p in v (practice safe sex guys!), oral fem receiving, spitting, cussing, dirty talk. there's some plot but it's mostly smut.
an: OH BOYYYYYY... i'm a little nervous to post this... GULP. it's my first time writing smut, so hopefully you guys all enjoy!! it took me like 4 hours LOL! writing smut is hard guys... thank you to all of my smut writing warriors. ALSO i tried my hand at making a header for my work, i kinda like it?? i cant tell if i ate or not..LMFAO. anyways im done yapping. like and reblog if you like, as always much love as always.
happy reading <3
“We should make a bet.” I say to Quinn as we’re getting ready for a home game between the Canucks and Winnipeg Jets. 
He looks at me confusingly as he finishes tying his tie in the mirror. “What kind of bet are we talking about?” he mutters back. “I don't know, something spicy and fun '' I say, as I make my way over to him to fix his crooked tie. 
“Hm..i like the sound of that” quinn says, as he rests his hands on my waist pulling me closer to his body.  I chuckle at his sudden change in interest, finally fixing his tie, I rake my eyes over his face. 
“I have an idea,” I say as our eyes remain locked, “and what's that baby?” Quinn says, I can feel his gaze now locked on my lips. 
“If you score tonight, i'll let you do whatever you want to me.'' I say, as I slowly trace my hands around his neck to play with his hair, leaning my body further into his. “if you don't score, i get to do whatever i want to you, but you can't touch.” 
I can feel quinns breath hitch in his throat, as I press myself completely against his front, planting soft kisses down his neck and across his jaw. His hands moving from my waist, to my ass, griping is hard and pulling me even tighter against him. 
Quinn tips his head down to try and connect our lips together, I quickly move my head to avoid his kiss. “How do those conditions sound?” I say, looking at quinns now flushed state. 
“They sound really good, baby, they would sound even better if you'd let me kiss you.” he says, slowly moving our faces closer together. 
I slowly shake my head no, as I pull myself apart from him. “ I have to finish getting ready, and so do you.” I say, while looking at a wide eyed, flustered quinn. 
“You actually hate me, don't you?” Quinn says, looking at me, still wide eyed. “no i don't, i just like making you suffer.'' I grin back at him. 
“So are we shaking on this?” Quinn says, finally collecting himself. Without a word I held my hand out to him, waiting for him to grasp it. Our eyes are locked, as Quinn pulls his arm forward, his hand finally finding mine, pulling it into a firm handshake. “you're on Hughes,” I said to him. “No you're on, I'm scoring tonight, just for you baby '' Quinn says grinning at me like a kid in a candy store. 
I step forward and press a sweet kiss on his lips, pulling away before he has the chance to deepen it, “may the best man win” i say before turning away from him, to finish getting ready. 
I'm nervous, not for the game, but for tonight. My nerves are getting the best of me as I sit in the stands waiting for the puck to drop. My eyes follow Quinn as they warm up on the ice.
 I'm starting to think I'm a dumbass for even betting on this. Quinn is super competitive, he's not going to let me win, but damn do I want to win. 
Pushing those thoughts to the back of my head, I settle in my seat, gaze locked on ice as the first whistle signaling the game has begun goes off. 
      This is going to be a long game, a long night, I think to myself. 
The Canucks win in a shutout, 5-0. I couldn't be more proud of them as they skate off the ice. Most importantly I couldn't be more proud of myself for finally winning a bet against quinn. 
They played an incredible game tonight, with 5 amazing goals, not none of those coming from quinn. I couldn't help but secretly be happy that he didn't score. 
I leave the stands and make my way towards the locker room, waiting for Quinn to finish up with getting ready and press interviews. Around 45 minutes later, I see Quinn make his way towards me. I open my arms to him, grasping him in a hug, “good game baby” I say to him as he pulls away, whispering a small “thank you” in my direction. 
We start to make our way to the parking lot, silence surrounds us, it starts to make me nervous. “Any updates on Thatcher?” I ask, who went to the locker room during the second period, with an injury. “We don't know too much right now, hopefully we get some updates tomorrow morning on his status.'' Quinn says as he throws his bags in the back seat of the car, before sliding over to open the passenger door for me.
 “Hopefully he’s okay, I'm sure he is. He's a tough guy, keep me updated when you get any information." I say to Quinn, as he's pulling out of the parking lot. “I will.” he says shortly. I frown at his shortness, in the conversation. 
“Are you okay?” i ask him quietly, “yeah, im okay.” he replies back quickly. Not wanting to push, I decided that's a good enough answer, keeping my gaze locked on my lap the whole way home. 
The car comes to a stop, signaling that we made home. I quickly got out of the car, wanting to escape the tension that was starting to suffocate me. Unlocking the door quickly, speeding my way upstairs to the bathroom, not even looking back to see if Quinn was behind me. 
Closing the bathroom door quickly, I take a deep breath to regain my thoughts. Is Quinn mad at me? Is he upset over Demko? Upset that I won the bet? Upset that he didn't score? I don't want him to be upset with me, especially over this, this was supposed to be hot and cute and now i feel like it's blown up in my face. A bet that I don't even care about at this point. 
5 minutes later, after I've calmed myself down. I see Quinn on the edge of the bed, when I open the bathroom door. Taking another deep breath, I start to make my way across our bedroom to the closet. As I'm beginning to pass the bed where Quinn sits, I feel him grab my leg, pulling me back towards him. 
My nerves are rising again. I'm now in between Quinn's legs, looking down at my feet as I wait for him to say something. I feel his hands run up my thighs, gripping them with a slight pressure. Trailing them higher on my body, over the Hughes jersey that covers my upper half. Quinns hands, finding their home on my waist, for the second time today. 
“Baby, look at me,” Quinn says, gently but with authority. I slowly lift my head up to lock my eyes to his. “I think we have a bet to take care of.” he says to me, my brain doesn't even register what he just said to me, before i start speaking. “are you mad at me? I feel like you're mad at me. We don't have to do this, it's just a bet it doesn't really matter to me Quinn. I thought this was a good idea earlier but now i dont think it's a good idea. I know you're definitely mad at-” 
  I'm quickly cut off by the feeling of quinns lips on mine. Taking me by surprise it takes my body a few seconds to respond. Once I do, my hands are instantly finding his hair, as Quinn pulls me down so I'm now straddling his lap, our kiss getting more intense by the second. 
I began to grind myself on his bulge that I felt growing beneath me. Quinn begins painting beneath me, his mouth opening enough for me to slide my tongue into his mouth, pulling myself into him. Our mouths began to fight for dominance. Our bodies move against each other at a faster rate. Quinns hands pushed my waist hard against his, causing me to moan into his mouth. 
Quinn pulls back suddenly, causing me to wine more. “Does it look like I'm upset with you baby?” he asks me as he starts to suck on my neck leaving kisses in his wake, causing me to arch my back closer into his mouth. Pulling away from my neck, looking at each other as we’re both panting. “I was acting like a sore loser” quinns says while rubbing slow circles on my thigh, eyes still locked with mine. “I don't like losing, and I really don't like not being able to have my way with you, not being able to touch you.” he breathes out at me. I'm struggling to find my words while he's looking at me like that. 
“Quinn. I don't care about this stupid bet anymore, I want you now." I don't even wait for him to respond to me before I'm crushing our lips back together. The kiss is hot, with need and want. Our teeth and tongues clashing together. 
I find the will to pull myself off Quinn, now standing in front of him. Without saying anything, I began to peel off my clothes. Pulling off the jersey, leaving me in a black lacy bra, and my jeans. Quickly moving my hands to my jeans, unbuttoning them quickly, pulling them down with my underwear, kicking them off my feet. Reaching behind me and unclasping my bra. Leaving me completely bare in front of Quinn.
“I want you naked, now.” I say to Quinn, who moves in supersonic speed pulling off his clothes and throwing them somewhere behind me. 
“Fuck baby.'' Quinn says as he's pulling me into him again. “You look so hot right now, all for me too.” tracing his hands down my bare sides, causing my skin to erupt in goosebumps in his wake. 
Leaning forward he begins to press kisses against my stomach making his way down to my pussy, my breath begins to hitch, I'm afraid my legs are going to buckle beneath me. “Can I taste you baby? I want to taste your sweet pussy,  haven't in so long.” he says, as he slowly pulls my thighs apart. I can't find it within me to stop him, I don't care about the bet anymore. I need him to do something. “Yes please” I told him. He doesn't need to be told twice. 
Quinn quickly throws me down on the bed, my body making a small thud as it hits the bed. Quinn immediately pulled my thighs apart so he could rest between them.
 I'm knocked out of my daze, as I feel Quinn start to press kisses on the inside of my thighs, my breath is beginning to quicken again. “Look at me baby” he says, as he lifts his head to reach my eyes.
 I crane my neck to meet his gaze. Getting a good look at him, pupils blown with lust, his lips swollen and red, hair a mess, seeing him in this state turns me on even more. 
“Please Quinn,” I yelled out to him, shifting my body closer to his face. I need something, anything. ‘So impatient” Quinn chuckles, as he leans in closer to my pussy, so close I can feel his breath fan on my folds, causing me to slowly moan. “Keep your eyes on mine or I will stop. Got it?” he roughly says to me, nodding my head yes quickly. “Words baby” he says, “yes, yes quinn” i say urgently. 
Before I know it his face is diving into my cunt, his tongue instantly finding my clit, making arch my back into him. “Fuck” i say in a strangled moan, as my hands find their way to quinns hair, pushing his face deeper in my cunt. 
His tongue is lapping me up like a grown man starving, his hands are pushing my legs so hard and so far apart it almost hurts, but I can't find it inside me to care. His pace began to quicken, pushing his tongue in and out of my cunt. “Who got you this wet baby?” he mumbles into my heart. “You! Fuck right there baby” i moan out, as quinn slowly pushes 2 fingers in. 
The pressure is beginning to build in my stomach, between quinn fingering me and lapping and sucking on my clit is enough to push me over the edge. “Harder, faster, fuck quinn.'' I managed to push out, his actions now becoming faster and more aggressive than before. 
Before I realize, my peak is coming. My hips grinding themselves on quinns face,  desperate to cum. “That's it baby, there you go.” he says, as i begin to push myself on his fingers deep inside of me. Moving his thumb to now, rub my clit at a fast rate. “fuck quinn im coming” i push my head flat against the pillow as my body archs into him. “Fuck, don't stop. Quinn please don't stop, please please” i began to blubber out as i began to cum all over his fingers. Continuing to grind myself against him, taking anything that he’ll give me.
Quinns hands keep my thighs from closing shut and he removes his fingers and replaces them with his tongue. Riding me through the last of my orgasm. My moans and pants are filling the room, my breath leaving my lungs as I finally come down from my orgasm. 
Quinn slowly pulled his face away from my heat. “That was the hottest thing, ive never seen, fuck” he says before making his way on top of me, his lips finding mine. 
Wrapping my arms around his neck pulling his chest to mine. Our bodies rocking together, “quinn” i say breathless, as his tongue is attacking my neck, moving his mouth lower down my body. Grasping my left nipple in his mouth, gently biting it, then releasing it into his mouth, wrapping his hot tongue around it. The action causes me to moan loudly, pushing my already close body even closer, if that's even possible.
As good as his assault on my boobs feels, I need him inside of me now. “Quinn” I say firmer this time. Pulling his face to mine, “ i need you to fuck me now, please now” i say panting in his face. 
That seems to flip a switch inside of quinn, he's quickly lining up his cock, with my entrance, slowly pushing himself into me. Quinn goes as he fully enters me, our eyes locking for a quick moment before I lift my head to bring myself to his lips. This kiss is different from the others, love and passion filled, a kiss that isn't rushed. “Can I move baby?” quinn asks from above me, “yes please fuck me” i pant back into his mouth, bringing our lips back together again.
Quinns hips quickly snapping against mine, pulling out fullying before pushing himself back into me. The quick motion caused the both of us to moan loudly, “harder” I moan out to him. “You want me to fuck you harder baby?” Quinn says back to me. To answer his question I push my hips up to meet his thrusts, quinn moves one of his hands from my waist to my right leg, and pushes it above his shoulder. the new angle, hitting a depth i didn't know was even possible. Fucking me at a pace so good, that i didnt want him to stop. 
The sound of groans, moans and our skin meeting and slapping together fills our room, our bodies slick with sweat. My eyes flutter open meeting quinns eyes, as he fucks me so deep and so good, my mouth is hung open but no words are coming out. 
Grabbing my jaws he leans down and spits into my mouth “swallow” he orders, his eyes still locked with mine. I do as he says, swallowing every last bit.
“Fuck you’re so hot” quinn moans at me, as he continues to fuck me. “More more '' I moan loudly at him, Quinn then pushes both of my legs on his shoulders. Fucking me so deep i can feel him in my stomach.
“Im gonna cum, baby” Quinn breathes in my ear, his face dropping to my neck as he picks up his pace. I feel the familiar burn build up in my stomach again. “Don't stop, im almost there please dont stop” i wine at him urging him to go even faster. 
Grabbing our headboard, using more strength to push himself harder into me. One singular snap of his hips causes me to cum. “Quinn quinn, im coming fuck fuck fuck” i moan loudly. “come for me baby fuck” quinn says as he continues to fuck me though my orgasm. 
“Im cumming” he sputters out, his lips finding mine. Our bodies move together as we’re coming down from our highs. 
My legs slowly come down from his shoulders, Quinn slowly pulling out of me, wincing as he does. Collapsing beside me, our chests falling and rising together, pants fill the room still. I turn my body to his hand tracing his chest and neck. Pushing his hair that's fallen in his face back. Quinns arms circled around my waist pulling me closer to him. 
“So much for the bet huh?” he says while laughing, pulling me in for another kiss.
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sugrhigh · 4 months
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BOY NEXT DOOR 2 - ( c.s )
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part one
summary- you and your roommates live beside a bunch of senior hockey players, one of them being the infamous team captain chris sturniolo. he’s effortlessly flirty and undeniably attractive, but he’s also a pain in your ass. you find that you have to fight between lust and hatred as you finally get to know the boy next door, whether you want to or not.
warnings- swearing, kissing, that’s it i think
neighbor/hockey!chris x fem!reader
a/n: PART TWOOOOO!!!! i hope u guys like this series i’m having a lot of fun with it (and s/o to my girl @cutenote for letting me use her name). self-indulged this chapter and made the reader a flyers fan so SRY but anyways, enjoy! next thing im putting out is a matt request and then i’ll be working on this series and the tattooartist!reader x matt series. if you have other reqs, questions, confessions, etc, my inbox is open 🫶🏻
@cutenote @mattsmunch @mattybsbitch @breeloveschris @st7rnioioss
your stomach flips as you stare in the mirror, twisting and turning every which way to make sure you look alright. you’re in one of chris’s jerseys, repping the crimson and gold colors of boston university, complete with the little ‘C’ emblem for captain.
he left it in your mailbox earlier on his way to the arena, demanding that you wear it instead of the BU sweatshirt you had planned on going in. so you listened to him, even though you’re not really sure why.
your hair and makeup are all done, contrary to the last time chris saw you, when you were in his house threatening to call the cops. it feels performative, getting all dressed up for something you don’t even want to go to.
but what the hell, you hadn’t seen the team play at all this year, and if you look your best you’ll feel your best. at least, that’s what you convinced yourself would happen.
“are you done up there? we need to leave, games gonna start soon!” one of your roommates calls from the living room.
you sigh and turn away from your own reflection so you can head for the stairs. cassidy and ramona are both waiting for you on the couch as you round the corner, also decked out in BU merch.
you’re just lucky you had been able to convince them both to come with you, so you don’t have to stand by yourself.
“took you long enough.” cassidy mumbles under her breath as she stretches her legs and stands up.
mona mimicks her movements, but not without shooting her a glare. “be nice, she’s obviously nervous.”
“no i’m not!” you protest, and now they both give you an eye roll as they pass you to get their coats from the closet.
“your voice just went up ten octaves.” cass snarks.
you are anxious, but it’s just because of the unknown. you still haven’t figured out what chris is angling at, besides maybe sleeping with you, which isn’t gonna happen. well, probably not at least.
no, not ever. oh my god.
“i’m not nervous. i just wish i could back out.” you double down, turning to see them both pulling on their big winter jackets.
“you used to love hockey, you just don’t like chris. one game won’t kill you.” ramona replies.
“and you also didn’t have to agree.”
this accusation makes your face flush, in embarrassment and in denial. “he wouldn’t have stopped that party if i didn’t. and you know i could never actually call the cops.”
ramona stays silent as cass laces up her shoes. “whatever you say babe. you look cute in his jersey either way.”
“cassidy!” you whine in exasperation.
“i’m honestly not sorry.”
the entire walk to the get to the game is spent harassing you, which is a solid twenty minutes because you live off campus. ramona does try to keep it to a minimum, though you can’t really blame them for the questions. you have them too.
it’s always been weird with you and chris. you hate his attitude, how people fall to his feet like he’s some sort of god. you can’t stand the way he talks to you like he can read your mind, or how you always catch him staring at your lips just so he can pretend like he wasn’t.
he does it to every girl, and you don’t know why he’s taking all of these extra steps to try and get you into bed.
maybe because you see through it, and you don’t want any part of him. he said it himself, he doesn’t want a relationship, and you’re not looking to get an STD, so you don’t know why he’s bothering.
you finally arrive at the facility, and your stomach flips. tons of people are out tonight, of course. the sun is long gone with it being winter and all, so the lights are extra overwhelming as you step inside.
you head through security and scan your passes, ones that are specifically right beside the student section in the very front. chris gifted them to you for free since you didn’t get season tickets, right by the glass so he knows where you are.
even when you were a pain in the ass and insisted you needed two more for your roommates, he made it work. it was a little impressive.
you find your seats, and the boys are already on the ice warming up. you spot chris from the jersey number, 3, and you can see his long hair poking out from underneath his helmet.
he’s focused on taking a practice shot, but as he skates by the glass afterwards you see him looking, like he isn’t sure if you showed up. but then he finds you, and you can actually see his stupid smile.
he waves, just a tiny one, before he goes right back to drills. you’re thankful he didn’t make it dramatic, because you know there’s plenty of girls in the stands who want him, and have probably already been with him.
you each take your coats off and hang them on your chairs. you know the fact that you having his last name plastered across your back doesn’t help the attention, but people can think what they want.
you don’t give a fuck. cassidy was right, it’s cuter on you anyways.
they head into the locker room quickly after your arrival, and even more people fill in to watch the show. the student section is loud as the facility finally goes dark, and the team skates back onto the ice moments later.
spotlights flood the stadium, highlighting different players as both teams line up along the neutral zone. you cheer extra loud when they announce the starting lineup and call chris’s name, even despite your vendetta against him.
no use being a shitty fan if you’re already here.
they get ready for the face off after the national anthem, and BU gets the puck. it’s back and forth for a while, and you find yourself groaning and cheering with the rest of the crowd during every play.
the first goal of the game is scored within fifteen minutes, by one of his other roommates ben, of all people. you and your friends are jumping around like maniacs, and you can see him laughing at you guys after they’re all done celebrating on the ice.
it makes you wonder if chris told them you’d be here, but you force yourself to eat the popcorn cass bought and stop thinking about it.
the second period begins and BU keeps possession for most of it, pretty much dominating their opponent. in the final thirty seconds, chris drives down the rink to score another goal.
you throw your hands up without thinking, and you let the excitement take over. “fuck yeah!”
cassidy and ramona are screaming too, shaking you by the shoulders wildly.
he comes skating over, pointing right at you as he does a lap near the student section. heads turn, and you can literally feel people staring at you now, even despite the noise and the chaos.
but you’re alive, and you can’t get enough of this environment, so you keep cheering for him regardless of the burning feeling of eyes on you.
“that was cute.” ramona nudges you with a genuine smile, and you’re fighting your own grin as you shake your head.
“whatever.”
the rest of the game is swift. your goalie makes a couple great saves, and a guy named dylan, who you’ve met before at parties, scores the final point of the night.
it just twists the knife further, because it’s a total shutout. the fans go wild as the final buzzer sounds, and you’re right there with them. you relish in the lights, the feeling.
you really did miss watching hockey in person. and you can’t even say you necessarily hate watching chris anymore. there’s just something about the way he skates, so locked in on the game.
he’s a threat, to be completely honest, and you kind of love it.
“that was fucking crazy.” cassidy is beaming happily as you guys gather your things ten minutes post-game, and ramona nods along.
“we’re gonna have to do this more often.” she glances at you with hope.
“hey, don’t look at me. i’m in it for the free tickets, and i’m not sure how long that’ll last.” you’re lying through your teeth, because you enjoyed it just as much.
but again. who knows what he’s really trying to do here.
“you could give him the benefit of the doubt.” mona suggests dryly.
“does he really deserve it? he’s going to think he’s the shit either way.” you point out, and she goes quiet.
“maybe that’s true, but i’ve never heard of him doing whatever that celebration was with other girls.” cassidy takes over, and she’s honestly check-mated you.
it is strange, because when you watched games last season, before you had chris as your neighbor, before you even really knew of him, you hadn’t ever seen that. and from current knowledge, you’re pretty sure he had a short term girlfriend during one of those months.
“touché, i guess.” you grumble, and as if right on que your phone vibrates in your pocket.
chris
wait for me, 15 mins max
ramona and cassidy take the bus home, leaving you on your lonesome as the crowd clears out slowly but surely.
you can hear girls whispering about you as they walk by, but it’s not even worth it. you’re not scared of what they have to say. maybe when you were younger, you would have reacted, but it’s just displaced jealousy anyways.
they don’t even know the truth.
finally, after what feels like a painful amount of time, you get a text from chris with directions toward the locker rooms.
it’s far more quiet now as you make your way to the ground level of the arena, headed to the section of the rink you know is closed off to pretty much everyone else. there’s a guy standing there, dressed in his black shirt with the facility logo on it.
he goes to stop you, but chris comes strutting through the hall, out of uniform now. his brown hair is all messy, and he’s dressed down in a matching black sweat set.
“she’s cool, i have a pass for her.”
he walks right up to you, looping a red lanyard over your head. his fingertips brush the skin of your neck as he collects your hair with his hands, flipping it out from underneath the string for you.
it’s a small thing. his touch is barely there, and yet it still burns.
the security guy smiles at you as you follow chris down the hall. you’ve never been back here before, and you have to admit it’s kind of cool.
you can see where the arena workers go on and off the ice, and the large garage type doors that let the zambonis in and out.
“so.” he breaks the silence, and you almost jump at the sound of his voice.
you were in your own world, and you kind of forgot what was actually going on here.
“so.” you parrot, waiting for him to continue as he leads you around a corner.
“looked like you actually had fun for once.” chris jokes, and you shove his shoulder half-heartedly.
“shut up, i’ve always liked hockey. you though? i’m not so sure.” you give him a look and he opens his mouth like he’s shocked.
“come on, i pointed you out after my goal and everything. you’re telling me you didn’t like it even a little?”
you liked it more than you care to admit, so you don’t. “it’s gonna take more than that to impress me, christopher, but i will say it was a good game.”
“you might just be our lucky charm.” chris glances at you out of the corner of the corner of his eye as he slows to a stop in front of the locker room.
you cross your arms over your chest. “now you're just patronizing me.”
“always assuming the worst.”
“well, you make it easy.” you tease.
he pauses to look down at your defensive stance, at his jersey all scrunched up around your body, and you can tell by his smirk that he’s loving it a little too much.
you clear your throat to try and alleviate some of the tension and chris snaps out of it, turning to head through the little entryway.
“i’m gonna grab my bag, don’t go anywhere.”
“you’re my ride, dumbass.” you remind him, and you hear his chuckle reverberate against the walls as he disappears.
a few players head out as you wait, ones you don’t recognize, and they nod at you politely as they chat amongst themselves. it actually takes you by surprise, but you try not to show it.
chris comes back into the hall a minute later, bag slung around his shoulder. he’s got a black bruins beanie on now, and you raise an eyebrow instinctively.
“why are you looking at me like that?” he asks, waving his hand so you follow him further down the wide corridor.
“your hat.” you point, and he looks offended.
“what’s your problem with it?”
“not everyone who goes to school here is actually from boston, genius. i’m a flyers fan.” you smile at him sweetly, and he literally groans.
“how did i not know this?” he asks as you guys reach the door that leads to the team parking lot.
“because you don’t know me.” you reply swiftly.
chris pushes the door open and holds it for you, another move you don’t expect. “i know more than you think.”
you shiver slightly as you step past him into the cold, wrapping your coat around yourself a bit tighter.
“if it helps you sleep at night.” you chirp over your shoulder.
you know his car, a black jeep grand cherokee that you’ve always been a little jealous of, and it’s sitting in the middle of the lot. not many others are still here, and you can hear both of your feet kicking up gravel as you walk.
chris picks up his pace so he can beat you there, swinging the passenger door open before you can do it yourself.
“wow, chivalry’s not dead.” you say blankly, sliding into the seat so he can close you in.
“what can i say, i’m a real gentleman.”
the interior smells like a pine air freshener, which actually isn’t a bad touch. chris walks around so he can toss his bag in the back and get behind the wheel, starting the engine and peeling out of the spot.
it’s quiet for a moment, aside from the music, and you can’t help but peek over at him sitting across from you. the shadows accentuate his striking features as he mumbles lyrics under his breath, nodding his head along ever so slightly.
he looks pretty, and you don’t like it one bit.
“i can feel you staring at me, you know.” chris turns to glance at you for a brief moment before he puts his eyes back on the road.
it makes your palms sweat, because he caught you in the act and now there’s no shying away.
deny, deny, deny.
“just wondering why your face looks like that.”
“what, devilishly handsome?” he smirks.
“i was thinking gremlin-esque, but sure.” you deadpan, and he just shakes his head and laughs lowly.
“so scared of your own feelings. it’s cute.”
it’s a major call-out, and it normally doesn’t phase you. but tonight it’s different. he’s being so fucking strange, and it’s clearly been messing with your head.
“i’m not scared of shit, because the only thing i feel is sorry for all the girls who have actually fallen for this.” you retort, and the frustration is clear in your voice.
“other girls don’t get the princess treatment like you do.” his self-satisfied demeanor doesn’t falter for a second, even despite your low blow.
“yeah, right. i’m sure i’m really special.”
chris grips the wheel tighter as he turns onto your street, and you have to rip your eyes away from his long fingers.
“well you’re the only one who’s ever worn my jersey, so that’s something.” he admits, scratching his neck absentmindedly.
you’re not sure whether you believe it, but this time he actually does sound genuinely nervous. well, nervous for chris.
“and i wear it best too.” you brush some imaginary dust off of your shoulder as he pulls up into his driveway and puts the car in park.
“won’t argue on that one.” he shrugs, shooting you an easy grin.
“that’s surprising.”
you step back out into the crisp night air, slamming the door shut behind you. you meet chris at the front of the car and try to move around him, headed for your own place.
he takes a step to block you, eyebrows furrowed in confusion. “where are you going?”
you put some distance between your bodies, because he’s once again too close for comfort, and it’s hard to focus on your words when he’s inches from your face.
“home, obviously.”
“why? i thought we were going to hang out.” he frowns.
“nothing good ever happens in your house past nine p.m.”
this makes him smirk. “very good things happen in that house past nine p.m.”
“your charm is irresistible, truly.” you bite back sarcastically, maneuvering around him as you try to ignore the fire burning in your stomach.
you’ve only taken two steps before chris grabs your arm, pulling you back into his chest quickly. his other hand goes to hold the side of your face, tangling in your hair as he leans in close.
his lips ghost over yours, just barely. you can smell the cologne he must have put on after the game, can feel his slight stubble scratching your face, and it’s all too much.
you haven’t been kissed in so long, and right now it doesn’t matter that it’s chris, and that it goes against everything you stand for. your eyes flutter closed and you fill the gap, pressing your mouth against his hard.
it shocks him, so much so that he almost forgets how to do this properly. chris can taste your berry chapstick, and your lips are so much fucking softer than he even imagined.
his tongue slides against yours skillfully, deepening the kiss as he presses his body flush against yours. you can feel his thumb brushing your cheek as your mouths clash together continuously. its passionate and angry and intense, and you can’t believe it’s happening.
why is this happening?
the thought snaps you out of it, and you put your hand on his chest to force him away roughly. chris is surprised, and you’re both slack-jawed and breathing heavily as your body tries to catch up with your brain.
“i…i’m gonna go.” you mumble quietly, because you have no idea what else to say.
“or you could stay.”
“i don’t want to.”
“you’re a terrible liar.” he counters, and you can see how raw and red his lips are even in the moonlight.
you shake your head and turn toward your own front porch. it’s too hard to continue meeting his fiery gaze, because he’s looking at you like he actually needs you.
“goodnight, chris.”
“this isn’t over, you know. one day you’ll finally admit it.” he calls after you, and you don’t gratify him with a response.
there’s nothing that’ll change his mind, especially after you had actually caved in during that moment of weakness. it was so unwarranted, and you’re angry that kissing him didn’t feel as wrong as it should have.
you take the steps two at a time and hurry through the door, closing it behind you and pressing your back to the wood.
your fingers dance across your lips, and you swear you can still feel his mouth on yours.
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dizzybizz · 6 months
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hai here is a sketch dump with too many fandoms :) sorry about the ungodly amount of men here i have been going through it and by it i mean gay
ok wait i ran out of tags??? it wont let me tag them all😭😭😭 im gonna have to be sparing with them uhh i guess i will have to ramble under the cut then cus i like rambling in my tags but i cant with this one 😭
(ok im back from the ramble: it is way too long.... proceed forward if you want to see some guy just absolutely talk nonsense for entirely too long)
no cus i swear i have tried tagging more stuff than this before and never hit the limit but whatever
hello i really use this like a fkn blog huh
i just wanted to provide some thoughts on the harper and rosé one first bc its important to me 😌 cus i was thinking abt harper and how in my head and heart of hearts she would be the kid who thought you get pregnant from kissing and i dont think she ever really grew out of that belief. <- this ended up spawning the idea of harper being a sex-repulsed ace and i will die on this hill actually. fight me or die, you die either way actually nvm
this is just a buncha blorbos i dont know what to tell you really. sketch pages like these always end up so weird for me bc for some reason my brain always wants the characters in them to interact in some way. whether that be talking or just reacting to what the other is doing... its something i cant stop with, its so stupid and silly and i hate it and i love it. where else would i see kabru slowly losing his mind with how loud phoenix wright is in court????
I THOUGHT I HAD GOTTEN OFF THE RAILS WITH THAT BUT THEN THE NEXT PAGE HAPPENED. and all i could do was laugh and ask "what the fuck am i drawing??? HOW DID WE GET HERE? WHY IS THISTLE HERE WITH LEOPIKA HELP" LIKE that page started with the big leopika and then i was like "man i miss thistle lemme draw him real quick" but the curse struck and now hes being homophobic so </3
i rlly like how the nic(k) page turned out ... i just have a lot of nicks i like drawing idk.. the lil guy is an oc,,, one day his ref sheet will be finished and itll be awesome but not for now, sorry baby, no can do. im weirdly happy with how the hands turned out for all of them tho?? so thats a W
yotasuke, murai, nick (youll never know which one im referring to. .. jkjk its hoult i love the pose there ehehhe), nic and the entire last page r my favs. i like em all but those rlly get me yknow- the olly too ofc but ive already posted him, dont mind him being here, hes part of the set. AND OVER ALL IVE BEEN HAVING SO FUN WITH SHADING BLACK AND JUST LEAVING SPOTS BLANK ITS SO ?`????
WHY IS THIS SO LONG PLS DONT READ ALL THIS THIS IS STRAIGHT UP EMBARRASSING AGHSDFGSDHJSGD im all like "yeah i dont like talking about myself or whatever" but as soon as i get to my process or blorbos or smth the floodgates fucking break open, not even burst man.
also dont mind how i havent even acknowledged pingas twink pokemon counterpart. hes just here for shits and giggles i dont know the guy like at all, i watched a handful of eps of horizons and that was it RIP
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ofjunemoment · 1 year
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work it | na jaemin
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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
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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.”
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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.
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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.
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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
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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.
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“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?”
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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.
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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.
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“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,”
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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.”
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“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.
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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.
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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,”
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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.
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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?”
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“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.
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“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?”
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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.
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“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.
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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.
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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.
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“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.
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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.”
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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.
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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.
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“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.”
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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 &lt;3
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lola-bunn1 · 1 year
Note
Hey! please could you write a Neteyam x reader?
The reader has always been seen as ‘one of the boys’ and Neteyam treats her as a friend. She becomes fed up of Neteyam not noticing her as a woman so she decides to act feminine or flirty. Neteyam notices her change in demeanour and how she attracts attention of another male which causes him to be jealous. This causes an argument which leads to a confession and maybe a little smut.
❥ a/n: i hope this turned out the way you wanted! im not good with smut so it was little ik im sorry !! also grace is alive here bc theres mentions of her school
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Neteyam has always been apart of your life, you grew close to him and he grew close to you. Not in the way you think though, you grew close to him in the romantic sense, he grew close to you in the friendly sense.
You've always been with him, when he'd go hang out with the boys, you'd come as well and nobody ever minded. After all, you weren't a girl. You were part of them.
You actually hated it.
You hated that everyone including Neteyam thought of you as one of the boys.
You weren't.
You didn't care if everyone thought that, what really mattered was Neteyam. And it angered you how he didn't think of you as an actual girl.
You were sick of it, and you noticed things about yourself. You always wore something over your tops, you never really did anything to make yourself look better.
So you changed that, you made new tops, tops that really focused on your features, you braided your hair differently, and changed the way you spoke, you began speaking in a soft and feminine voice.
The only reason you really wore a long top was because of the one time you didn't, where Neteyam made fun of you and the fact that you looked like a girl, and you stopped wearing it so he can stop
But this time, you didn't care, you didn't even know why he used it as an insult.
When you first left your home looking the way you did after you changed yourself, you didn't notice the amount of eyes that were set on you.
Neteyam was with his friends, talking and waiting for you before they all went quiet
"Damn" One of them said before you approached them
"Hey guys" You smiled, talking in a soft voice
"Why do you sound like that" Neteyam said
"You look like an actual girl" Another guy said
"Uh, thanks?" You said and they all laughed, Neteyam didn't though since there wasn't anything funny
Were they laughing to please you or something?
"Uh, y/n, wanna walk with me to school?" Al'oktan asked
"Alright" You said, and everyone stared as you walked with him, Neteyam just glared and went quiet
It started becoming like this all the time, boys would talk to you, walk you home, try to impress you. But what bothered Neteyam the most was what you were doing.
Why the sudden change? You were fine the way you were before.
You completely changed, and it annoyed him.
What really snapped him, was when he was with his friends
"Neteyam" Al'oktan said
"What" Neteyam answered
"Do you think anyone asked to court y/n?"
Neteyam froze, was he going to court you?
The other boys answered for Neteyam, and he just made up some excuse and left them.
He went to find you and rolled his eyes when he saw you with another guy
"y/n" He said, and they both turned to him, "we need to talk"
"Um, okay...I'll see you later" You told the guy, he just glared at Neteyam and walked away
It was quiet for some time, he just kept staring at you
"What's going on?" You asked
"What are you doing." He said
"What?" You responded, confused
"Why are you acting like this"
"Like what, exactly?" You nervously chuckled
"Like this, y/n!" He yelled, "The weird change in voice, the revealing outfits, the hair, everything!"
You rolled your eyes at him, "What do you expect, Neteyam. I'm a girl" You said and were about to walk away until he pulled you back
"Don't you think I know that?" he asked
"No actually, you don't. You always see me as one of the guys and it's annoying! I'm not, Neteyam! I'm not some guy friend you can make fun of. I actually have feelings yknow" You yelled
"You know I don't actually make fun of you"
"I don't care. Why are you so mad anyway!" you rolled your eyes again
"Because I don't like it!"
"Don't like what!"
"Everything! I don't like seeing others with what's mine." He yelled and you went quiet, he held your hand, "You are what's mine."
"What are you saying?" You said
He gently held your face, "I'm saying what you're hearing, y/n." He whispered, slowly leaning in and pressing his lips against yours
You slowly pushed him away, "Why now, Neteyam?"
"Because I planned on telling you before, but you suddenly changed and all these boys were after you and I didn't like it." He said
"Why not? I think it's sweet" You teased
"Very funny" He rolled his eyes
You smiled and leaned in to kiss him again, he melted into the kiss, your hands roamed around his hair, his slid down to your top, gently untying it
"I'll show you what's really funny, y/n" He whispered as his hands roamed down your body
man were you in for a night.
3K notes · View notes
siasthoughts · 4 days
Text
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« I'M THE ONE YOU ALWAYS NEED. »
CONCEPT; MORTEFI X F!READER . YOU WENT TO HIM TO ASK HIM TO INVENT SOMETHING.
TOPICS/WARNINGS; USING TOYS . QUICK ORAL (F!RECEIVING) . ATP IDK . NGL THIS FEELS LIKE A DRABBLE . P IN V . PROBABLY OOC
IM PLAYING WUTHERING WAVES AND IM IN LOVE W SO MANY OF THEM N R PLANNING SOME FICS 💞 also should i start writing on ao3 hehe
WORD COUNT; 1.5K
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"hey..." you voiced awkwardly as you tapped your knuckles at his open office door, catching his attention. "yes, do you need anything?" he asks, turning towards you and putting down his tablet. you walk into the office nervously, "you said i could ask you if i needed anything made, right?" you questioned, averting your gaze and looking around the room. "yes... i did say that." he looks at you, crossing his arms as he observed your anxious expression. you gulped quietly, swallowing your pride as you really can't seem to find anyone that sells these things... "have you ever made a..."
his eyes widen slightly at your inquiry, a replica of male genitalia? he clears his throat, holding up his fist to his mouth as he took a few moments to think before speaking up, "well no but... i couldn't say that anyone ever asked either." he turns back around to his desk and sends the current hologram he's working on into his drafts before starting a new project, "so... can you?" you asked for reassurance, tilting your head to get a view of the hologram.
he turns to you, leaning on his desk as he looks down at you with rested eyes, you could feel that you've definitely piqued his interest with your 'invention idea.' "have you ever considered just finding someone to be able to..." his voice lowers, "-use the real thing?" he leans down just a bit, but enough for you to get what he's insinuating. "well sure, in a way." you answered, your voice tensing up.
"oh really?" he retreats back, bringing up his hand to push his glasses back, "which person have you thought of?" he interrogated, seemingly trying to pry a certain answer out of you. you look away, staying silent for a few moments he breaks the silence with a small sigh, "well, it's understandable if you wish to not answer. but, i'll try to make that for you. expect it by the end of the day."
he sure works quick. a relieved exhale, even though embarassment still ran through your body, huffs out of your lips as he turns back to his desk. "t-thank you." you stammer nervously as you swiftly made your way out without exchanging any last words with the red haired researcher.
.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.
as you were just getting ready to leave the laboratory, you hear a certain voice call out from behind you. you turn to see a familiar figure with gold-rimmed glasses—mortefi, and he was holding a paper bag.
you feel heat rise to your face as you remember what you just asked of him. "here's what you requested." he walks over to you, holding up the bag as his tablet rested within his other hand. "oh... you really made one." your hands trembled slightly as you took the bag, feeling shame wash over you. "oh, and sorry if it might not be to your best liking, i used... my own as a slight reference." he said as he closed his eyes for a few moments before looking back up at you.
shock runs through you for a few moments before you smiled awkwardly at him, "oh- okay. thanks a lot though!" you tried to force an enthusiastic answer, failing miserable as your voice cracked a bit. "well then, i guess it's time to head home and have fun, no?" he said rather coldly, and with a straight face as he eyed you. well that felt rather insulting. you laughed sheepishly as you clenched onto the paper bag.
you thought about it for a while, if it's like his... why not just use the actual reference?
"sir... have you ever bothered doing these things with someone?" you asked, making the tension even more unbearable and uncomfortable. his eyes narrowed as he looked at you, certain conclusions and thoughts already being formed in his head. "yes, in a way." he answered, seemingly mocking your words from earlier. "then..." you took a small breath, "would you mind using this with me?" your voice shakes as your grip on the bag tightens.
.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.
well fuck.
he now knelt in between your thighs, with your legs over his shoulders, taking in your most sensitive parts as you sat over his desk. "i suppose we need to make your body ready first, right?" he voiced hoarsely, how is he doing this with a stern and cold expression? you swallow a breath as you looked at his calm gaze, "y-yes." you stuttered in a failed attempt to seem composed.
he took off his glasses, and placing it on his cold table before placing a warm, wet kiss onto your core, making your body shiver. you looked down at him as he strategically worked his mouth around you. he held onto your thighs, keeping you stable as his tongue gently worked around your folds, preparing your body and riling up it's appetite. your legs lock his head within your thighs, pulling him closer to your pussy. "mm..." he groaned out, making him frown a bit though he didn't really... dislike it.
"sorry..." you mumbled quietly, loosening your grip as he pulls back, and getting back up "it's very much okay and reasonable." he assures as he reaches for the bag and takes out it's contents. you shift your gaze to what's now in his hands, he used his own as reference?! it was lengthy, and he brought it down to your already wet cunt. "are you ready?" he asked, positioning the dildo against your drooling pussy, "yes." you whined quietly, looking down at the silicone toy.
"alright, i'm gonna do it slowly, okay?" he assured, his voice was low as he slowly pushed it in, starting with the tip. he kept his attention down towards your hole, observing the way it clenched desperately around the fake cock. he clenched his jaw as he slowly pushed it further, earning him a small moan from you as he felt his pants tighten. well shit.
he notices the now growing bulge in his pants as he pushes the entire thing into you gently, "is it okay?" he asks, looking back up at your now pleasure-washed face. it turned him even more. "absolutely..." you responded breathily as you looked down to see his aching cock hiding under the fabric of his pants. "i'll move it now." he thrusted the toy in and out slowly, hearing the wet noises as your pussy resisted against the movement.
he groans, feeling extremely jealous of the silicone figure within his hands. you moaned at the sensation electrifying you, shooting shots of pleasure into your veins as his hands sped up. your body shook as he started to get rougher, now slamming it into you as a knot formed quickly within your core.
"i-i'm getting close..." you mewled out as your legs instinctively closed themselves, and your back arching as his hand kept themselves on your hip to keep you stable. you cry out as you feel the pleasure wash over you, that knot breaking apart as you feel warm liquid spill out of your pussy, making your legs weak. "ah..." he muttered as he slowly pulled it out, feeling the fabric encasing his own heat now tighten even more as it hurts.
you look down at it, a small smile tugging at the corners of your lips as you look up at him, "better if it's the real thing, no?" you said with a dazed laugh as you wrap your legs around his waist. "is this permission?" he asks with eager eyes as he put the dildo aside and his hands slowly undid his pants. "mhm..." you hummed, and even though you just finished, you felt excited for the real thing.
he laughed quietly as he let his pants fall a bit, revealing his twitching dick. it was desperate for your gaping hole, the way it squeezed on the dildo made him all frustrated for some reason. he wanted to feel it for himself. "i'm sorry, dear, i can't wait." he apologizes before pushing himself slowly but firmly into you. he groans at the feeling, your walls tightened against him and sending his body into euphoria as he feels his control over his body slowly dissipate.
you let out a staggered breath, though the smile returns to your lips as you find it in you to make some teasing remarks. "feels good, doesn't it?" you whisper as your hand moves up to cradle his face. "yes..." he says huskily as he couldn't find the strength to move. "what's wrong? why can't you move?" you voiced rather condescendingly as you start to circle your hips against him.
he frowns as his body twitches at your motion, with his grip on your waist deepening. you feel his fingers dig into your soft skin, making you feel a bit confident of your skills. mortefi hisses through his teeth as he slowly started to move, his length leaving your insides empty for a few moments before burying himself back inside you.
a small cry escapes your lips as you feel his cock fill your empty hole, and your body reacts as if it was running on desire. you reach for his back, your arms travel down his waist, stopping just at the hill of his hips. you push him further into you as sounds of pleasure quickly filled the room, echoing through the empty walls. you're both so lucky that everybody's gone.
you claw at his clothes, feeling as if you were ripping the white fabric apart, you whine out his name as you feel that familiar feeling boil up within your body. and you were sure he could feel it too. "are you close?" you asked breathily as his pace started to speed up, rougher, and harder. "so... tight." he frowns as he ravishes in the pleasure, letting it devour him as he continues to ram himself into you.
"i'm so close-" he scowls, his other hand roaming the skin of your stomach as he takes in the view under him. your vision slowly fades to white as you feel your mind go blank, losing your control over your body as you feel that sensation shatter, sending shards of pleasure all across your body. your body uncontrollably trembles under his touch as he pulls out swiftly with a groan and pressing his dick against your cunt, grinding into his climax.
you feel a sticky, warm liquid spill across your stomach and the soft plush of your pussy.
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okay it's all up to u now guys 🤑
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ah0minecchi · 4 days
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IS THAT WHAT YOU WANT?!♥︎ megumi f. x reader
Ꮺ in which meeting megumi fushiguro was a complete, but sweet, sweet chaos . . .
cw: angsty af, mentions of intimacy, use of alcohol if u squint
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NOW PLAYING! 💿 cherry waves - deftones
<𝟑.𖥔 ݁ ˖
dear megumi:
sometimes i wish i could tear apart this heart of mine, that’s apparently too big for my body. i wish i could just shut down everything you were and are for me. i wish i could turn off everything you light up in me. ever since the beginning…
[ ♥︎ ]
“so you’re fushiguro… yuuji talks a lot about you.” i looked at him, finally getting to meet my best friend’s best friend… wow. “just call him megumi, y’all are basically indirect friends at this point.” yuuji laughed, which i followed, looking at the raven haired boy for his approval.
“call me what you like.” megumi responded nonchalantly.
[ ♥︎ ]
i’ve been wondering nonstop what the fuck i did wrong. did i not deserve you? wasn’t i good enough? all those times i dropped everything just to run after you, all those times i promised you the whole world… weren’t they enough? weren’t you tired? of having me chase you around all day? did it bore you? having someone care so deeply about you, but not feeling the same about them?
i don’t think you can even imagine how it feels… cause, fuck.. has anyone ever said ‘no’ to you? have you ever wanted to pursue something that doesn't want you until it suffocates?
it hurts. it really fucking hurts.
[ ♥︎ ]
“are you at the party yet?” megumi asked through his phone, reaching my ear. “yeaaahhhh, im kinda drunk to be honest hahaha… but it’s real fun in here! you should come… pleeeaaasee.” there were a few seconds of silence until megumi broke it, shoting straight to my heart in the process.
“i don’t know how the fuck i’ll get there… but i will get there.” he hung up, leaving me excitedly waiting for him as i told all of our friends he was attending.
[ ♥︎ ]
that one night you kissed me, did i mean anything to you? cause at that very moment, to me, you were the whole world. my whole world. that one night i ended up tangled in your sheets. was i just another one on the list? cause to me, it was the very first time i felt cared about. you showed me the love i never thought i’d deserve.
could i even call it love?
i think you’d just call it lust.
[ ♥︎ ]
“how is yuuji going to find out about this?” i asked megumi as i ruffled his bed hair. “i think we should just tell him… but not now.” he answered as he scanned every detail on my face.
[ ♥︎ ]
i wish i knew what you meant by that. all the while i wanted to keep you as a promise, you just wanted to keep me as a secret. i wish nothing had ever happened, not because i regret it, nor did i not love it for a moment, but because i don't want to feel like this anymore. not with you.
i tried. i tried to be your friend. leave everything behind and continue as if nothing had happened. but the mere idea of ​​thinking that I was never for you what you were for me is enough to make my heart ache.
maybe we live in a world full of superficialities, empty, where everything is momentary pleasures, satisfyingly chaotic, and pleasantly disposable. i never want to fall like this again. i don't want to dream so high again. i don't want to be so naive again.
but i can’t help it when it’s you.
[ ♥︎ ]
“i’m not ready for anything, with anyone…” he sated as tears started rolling down my face. why? why’d you give me a taste of some love you couldn’t give me? or didn’t want to give me…
[ ♥︎ ]
weeks passed, and i started to accept the fact that it was not gonna happen. i started seeing someone else.
maybe you didn’t want to have me, but you definitely didn’t want to lose me…
[ ♥︎ ]
“you coming y/n? we gonna go grab ice cream or sum.” yuuji asked turning back to look at me. i couldn’t tear my gaze away from my phone, but i didn’t fail to notice how megumi looked at me.
“uhmm actually, go ahead without me guys! i’ll hang out with yuta later…” i commented as i blushed lightly. “OOOOOO Y/N’s GOT A DATEEE” yuuji joked.
megumi didn’t say a word until i left.
[ ♥︎ ]
next day, everything changed. that kiss you stole from me… i wish i could have it back.
you told me you were ready, that you wanted this. that you wanted me.
you made fall all over again. but deeper this time. you tricked me into your game once again. i mistook your lies for a future, with sins and sweet promises.
friday. i wanted to confront you about it.
and you tore it all apart. again.
i am so fucking greedy, and i don't want to let something i love die, even though i know i will never have it.
i’d fucking love to be your friend. i’d fucking love to pretend that it doesn't burn my skin to want to hug you and not be able to do so. i’d love not to want to know everything about you.
i wish i didn’t want to be your whole world.
i don't know why you hurt this much. i barely know you, and yet, i can't imagine a life without you. i have never had the courage to face what i truly feel. cause it's too soon, cause it would only complicate everything, or just because you don't want to hear it.
but i love you, megumi.
i wish it wasn’t like that. none of this.
yours truly.
y/n
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a/n: i wish i could lie to y’all and say this wasn’t based on a personal experience but haha guess what…
AND SORRY FOR THE ANGST I LITERALLY CANNOT WRITE HAPPY SHIT WTF
LIKES, COMMENTS & REBLOGS are very much appreciated ♪( ´θ`)ノtysm for reading !! <3
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valentine-writes · 9 months
Note
hii!! i was wondering if you could write headcanons for like the main four spider-kids (miles, gwen, pavitr and hobie) with a reader who like smacks people when they laugh really hard? preferably w/ a reader thats a spider-person but its up to you! :3
aggressive affection!
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「 tws + notes: no tws, unedited, dude used once in a gender neutral way, mentions of bruising and minor injuries (but nothing crazy), spider-person reader, reader forgetting that being a spider-person makes them stronger,,, um. (°ー°〃) oops!!! 」
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「 gn!reader, can be platonic or romantic <3 」
↳ ft. gwen stacy, hobie brown/spider-punk, miles morales, and pavitr prabhakar
author's note: YES I CAN YES I CAN!! this prompt iz so funny AUWWUDH I HOPE I DID IT JUSTICE!!! つ﹏⊂ also super excited 2 get to write more of them becuz AWUDGWAAHWGHWAGUAGH I LOVE THESE CHARACTERZ SMM,,, also excuse me if there's more repetition or typos than usual,,, im eepy ( つ᷄ ‸・ )
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GWEN STACY headcanons
▸ the first one to fall victim to your little habit. she doesn't mind in the slightest, mainly because she's generally pretty welcome to friendly touches- even if it is slightly more aggressive than she had expected. frankly, you could've literally bitten her and she probably would've reacted the same.
she's a little awkward about it at first, pausing mid laughter as you deliver playful hits to her shoulder and bicep. she playfully shoves you away at first, like, "haha– what– what are you doing–" but quickly warms up to it
▸ here's the thing though. she 100% will do it back. if you're both joking around and losing it over something, you end up hitting each other through laughter. and it'll INTENSIFY. at some points, everyone's wondering if you two are actually beefing or not ur not. itz the way u show affection 2 one another,,, in the strangest manner
when you're assigned on missions with her, you usually end up chatting– and then you find something hilarious to giggle abt and everything goes off the rails
y'all will return to HQ bruised asf like "nah man the anomaly didn't even touch us."
jessica and miguel DEF pick up the fact y'all goof off and beat each other up before even locating the anomaly HWJEJNDNE
unfortunately– gwen is slowly paired less with you on missions becuz of this. they can't have you distracting one another a girl can never have fun fr </3
nothing that some good behaviour can't fix! just try not to give each other a complete smackdown while on duty and you'll be paired together again in no time! hopefully...
▸ both you and gwen forget that being spider-people involves super strength. and though you're both used to taking a blow or two, it stands plain and obvious that the two of you can get carried away. gwen especially. she's just a little rough sometimes– not like she means to be.
sometimes, the dull ache from the bruises she left leave you wondering if you're both a little too funny for your own good. at least she makes sure to take care of it and hold back,, when she can.
when it's your turn to get carried away, she sees your eyes widen as you splutter a million apologies to her. but every time you deliver one hit too hard, she insists it never hurts much as you think.
"dude, it's okay. you can chill out." gwen reassures. "besides, i'm built tougher than that."
she flashes a grin at you, and it's almost convincing. like she didn't even feel a thing. you know better though– gwen definitely has days where she's more sore than she'd like to be because of you. not like she'd ever admit. she likes the random play fights between the two of you.
though, you will admit that the amount of trips to the infirmary in search of ice packs is getting just the teeniest bit absurd. people are starting to ask questions at HQ-- which is fine. the frozen bag of peas gwen offers to you for your injuries works just as good as any ice pack ...it's been sitting in the bottom of her freezer for God Knows How Long but you don't need to know that
HOBIE BROWN headcanons:
▸ you see how this guy interacts with people???
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hobie's used to friendly touches, and initiates physical contact without overthinking it. that little shoulder shake he does w/ miles makes me smile everytime i heart hobie. ALSO AAUWHEHWH LEBRON AND DWAYNE'S HANDSHAKE BEING HOBIE'S AND PAV'S?? I ADORE.
you really think something as little as a few friendly punches and hits bothers hobie "forehead-kissing-the-homies-goodnight" brown??? /lh + /hj but man platonic physical affection hobie. like. hear me on this one.
▸ he's 100% cool with it– actually initiated it before you did. nothing crazy, a light smack on your back or arm as he laughed with
eventually, while joking around with you, realized you had the same habit
you end up hitting each other quite a bit– but he's not as accidentally aggressive as gwen is. laughing with hobie won't get you hospitalized, he's cognizant enough with his strength to know how much to hold back.
▸ then again, there are times where you get carried away. hobie's quick to shake it off, not feeling the effect of the hit until later– if you notice and apologize, he'll just shake his head and shrug
"nah, nah– it's fine." he insists, chuckling a bit as he rubs the spot where you smacked him. "there's been worse."
and yes, objectively, you know that's true– but you both fight villains in your everyday life. of course there's going to be worse than just a hit too hard. he won't accept an ice pack– but will joke that you could just kiss it better instead
that earns a groan from you, smacking him again in the arm for good measure as he snickers
MILES MORALES headcanons:
▸ doesn't hate it!! not against it!!! find it surprising at first. he didn't expect a playful punch to his arm in response to his little joke, but watching as you giggled uncontrollably, hitting him lightly– he decided that he didn't mind too much
he knows you don't mean any harm, so it's cool with him! he's rolling with the punches literally every time you two are losing it
▸ if you land a smack on him that ends up being a little too hard, he'll definitely try to play it off awkwardly, rubbing it and nervously laughing when you ask if he's okay
"oh sh–" you promptly stop, your smile fading as concern floods your face. he winced slightly at your last hit and it was much to obvious to ignore. "you good, miles? i am so sorry–"
"me? yeah, yeah– it's cool!" he replies dismissively, giving you the lightest punch back. miles laughs nervously at your completely unconvinced expression.
"bro. cmon. be real."
"that? hah– nahh. barely felt it." spoilers!!! he felt it
you keep it in mind to dial it back a bit when with miles, because he barely hits back and hates admitting when it actually hurts.
you'll get an occasional "ow–" with a little chuckle, but he refuses to acknowledge that you might be a bit too rough. he jus doesn't wanna hurt feelings man :(
you're his friend who gets a little too carried away sometimes– and that's fine!!! besides, he can't let gwen and hobie have all the fun.
"you holding back on me?" he asks you, noticing your hits have gotten weaker.
"what's it to you?"
"i can handle it. 's fine!! really!" miles says. there's a beat of silence as you stare at him incredulously.
"and you didn't bruise last time?." you ask, raising an eyebrow.
"yeah."
"...say swear."
miles raises his hands, sighing. "ok, look–" HE WANTZ 2 ROUGHHOUSE W/ HIS FRIEND TOO OK (*ノε`*) besides. u and gwen and hobie seem to have so much fun w/ it,,
▸ because of his stubbornness, you oblige, pulling your punches just a little less when having a little laughing fit with him.
as a result, miles develops a habit deflecting your hits while absolutely losing it. gently shoving your hands away as you smack him, both of you doubling over laughter
miles will say sumn he knows you'll find a lil too funny and just,,, *cue continuous hitting and blocking as he predicts literally Every Movement you make* he's literally learned to parry becuz of u HAJWBDKDNEN
PAVITR PRABHAKAR headcanons:
▸ the type to pretend to beat up his friends while making punching noises when he's bored
he's just lightly tapping u with his knuckles going "pow– pow pow– bam–" under his breath HANWJENDN IM SORRY I FIND THIS FUNNY. i also. do this. (。・・。).
and ur like "...uh. ok."
he's def not opposed to it!! when he has the energy, he's all for it!!! pavitr's playfully hitting, shoving you away, gasping for air as the two of you giggle over something that's only really funny to the two of you.
he's pretty energetic most of the time, and it manifests as you "brawl" with each other as you laugh over some stupid joke.
▸ when you hit him a little too hard, most of the time, he doesn't even notice until the aftermath manifests as a bruise or two on his arms– but even then he doesn't care.
however,,, there are occasions where he initiates it, laughing and smacking you– and when you're laughing with him, raising your hand to hit back, he'll gasp dramatically, recoil instantly and get all dramatic about it i'm projecting all the things i do onto pav i bet u cant tell /sarc
pav the minute you decide to try and get him back– bar for bar, word for word:
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he's just a little guy,, a little guyy,,, nooo,,, itz also his birthday,, he's a little birthday boy– HWJWBDN SORRY THIS IS SO UNSERIOUS
this is a bit that he drags on FOREVERRR like itz the funniest thing in the world
▸ ALL of his hits are a little too hard. he does the fake beat up thing a lot but when you two are roughhousing, you're the one reminding him to chill out through stifled laughs
he'll immediately soften the blows quickly at your request, knowing it's probably best for you to remain as uninjured as possible when not doing mission. can't have your shit rocked before you even face a villain!!! his hits end up somewhere between hobie's and gwen's– an almost perfect middle (*´꒳`*)
almost.
occasionally, he'll literally just... take the hits. not like miles where he's deflecting. he's jus standing there laughing while you smack him. which is a concerning sight for anyone who isn't used to your antics!!!
this happened in hq once and peter b, who happened to be walking by, lowkey thought you were straight up attacking pav
upon hearing the two of you giggling though, he figured that he wasn't witnessing an act of violence and didn't have to step in
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cherryfennec · 3 months
Text
So this was originally supposed to have a kickass artwork of the bros using the power- up and stuff but then I got sick and then I realised Im out of time and here we are so uh hieee everyone and welcome to my post-
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Happy MAR10 Day! For the occasion, let's go back to the (not discussed in a long time) Power-Up headcanons. This time I'll focus on the Ice Flower (most of the lore under cut like last time)!
This was surprisingly requested by some (3) people. I'm going to be honest, I barely remembered this one at first. I kinda know how it looks and generally what it does, which will have to be enough to base this entire thing on. With that being said, I did some thinking and here's what I've got:
General headcanons;
This one has difficulty surviving outside of it's original environment. If you want to keep a batch in the house your best bet is to use the fridge/freezer, otherwise it looses both it's blue look and the stored energy. See, the Ice Flower originally wasn't (and still technically isn't) it's own flower species. Let me elaborate:
Nowadays the conditions there are not as harsh, however a rather long time ago travelers heading towards places like the Snow Mountain needed to be both be specially trained and very well equipped to even attempt a climb. A heat source was a big must, and it so happens that it often consisted of Fire Flowers. They'd put some in their coats to keep warm, as well as store a few in the backpack just in case they needed to protect themselves from monsters. When setting camp during their journeys these hikers would use the Power-Ups energy to start fires and cook food. After the flowers were depleted of their energy and entered their hibernation stage (I talked about it in my Fire Flower post), they would be simply thrown away like trash. Waiting for them to recharge was often not beneficial, especially in conditions like this, so there was ultimately no point in keeping them. However like I mentioned before, Fire Flowers are very adaptable, which actually wasn't that known at the time. Instead of wilting, these stubborn plants would try gathering energy like the usual, but since it was very cold and direct sunlight was limited, they decided to collect something else. While not all flowers made it, a few managed to amass the eminating frost and turn it into a new kind of energy which proved to be enough for their survival. With time even their petal colour changed to blueish hues. And thus the Fire Flowers in the area became Ice Flowers and over the years started populating the mountains and snowfields.
The Ice Flower is a multiple use Power-Up in theory but more often than not you'll find yourself without a place to freeze it after using one. If it's not placed in a cold environment during it's hibernation it'll either die or, more uncommonly, simply revert back to being a Fire Flower after a long process.
Mario and Luigi specific headcanons;
While the idea of being able to freeze stuff sounded cool it wasn't very fun to learn.
In Marios case imagine: you're good at something, really, REALLY good at something. Okay great, now imagine being told that your knowledge doesn't matter because now you need to do the opposite of what you've learned. Back with the theme of "elements don't mix", Mario absolutely hated how much effort he needed to put into focusing the newfound energy to barely make a tiny projectile. Even before he got the Firebrand he had enough difficulty with it, so it only got worse from there. This was one of the rare times where learning the bare basics instead of mastering a Power-Up was enough for him.
Luigi didn't really mind. The main complications came more from the vague instructions he received during training rather than his own inability. Suprisingly or not the Thunderhand didn't make this one much of a pain either, I guess anomalies attract eachother. While he doesn't consider this Power-Up as a favourite he still finds it pretty fun that he can freeze and walk on water. Did you know, he used to be pretty good at skating in high school. If you didn't he'll make sure to bring it up at a given occasion. Back to ice powers, he definitely outdoes his brother on this one, even if not by much.
There's probably one more thing I should mention. Despite the contrary belief the Ice Flower does NOT increase ones tolerance to cold temperatures. To be frank it might even decrease it by lowering the bodys natural temperature, making the chances of frostbite higher. And so, they learned it the hard way.
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In conclusion, this is more of a situational Power-Up. It's neither easy to find or preserve which can be annoying but despite all this it's hard to deny that it's ultimately a useful tool.
Few bonus headcanons!
I don't know how much sense I conveyed through my broken wording and less than average writing skills but it's not that shabby if I say so myself. Just like last time some details might change in the future but for now that's the general idea that I have considering the Ice Flower. Once again thank you to whoever took the time to read this!
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qawcamiz · 1 year
Note
flirty scara x insecured reader? like maybe self loathing themselves 😙
Glimpse — Scaramouche
Synopsis: You were nothing but an ordinary student, People never attempted to approach you, Until a certain Indigo-haired dude asked you out.
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warnings: self-loathing, flirt attempts, offensive content, bullying, ooc, etc.
notes: agghsge I'm sosorryyy for being inactive 😭😭🙏🙏 I'll js fix the error tmrrrrr and if there's grammars my apologies im half asleep when i wrote this 🙂🙂
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"y/n."
A voice called out from behind, startling you out of your thoughts. Veering around, your eyes locked with the Indigo eyes that were fixed on you, "Uh, Yes?" you asked, baffled.
It wasn't every time people would call out to you. In fact, No one attempt to chat with you unless they ought something. You'd probably be more surprised if someone spoke directly to you and it's happening, the person talking to you is known all over the school for their coldness and mindset. So you were kind of thrown when he began speaking to you.
"Be my partner."
Gasps can be heard throughout the room as students turn to look at the male who just spoke up, when he finished his sentence, your cheeks bloom red. It was not the statement you anticipated, especially from him, and you're kind of dumbfounded.
'He's probably just... Ugh.'
"Pardon?" you ask politely, though unsure about what his intentions are with this whole situation. "Did you not hear me? I want to be your companion for the upcoming task." He continues, giving you an expectant look which you fail to return because you're still trying to process what he'd said.
"Huh?! Scara~ Are you sure you want to be partnered with this— thing? Come on! Think twice!"
"Unless he lost to a bet?"
"Understandable."
"Right! He probably lost to a bet that's why he's asking y/n for their help, they don't even seem interested, Haha!"
"Seriously? Scaramouche and y/n? Is he just trying to get them a good grade by partnering with them?? That's stupid,"
The whispers around you grow louder as everyone starts to make fun of you for the current situation you're in.
"T-Thank you for the offer, really, But I'm certain I can work alone on our lesson," you say with an awkward smile, "Maybe you could just try asking someone else instead," you manage to say while staring into his pretty eyes.
"No way! Are they actually refusing Scaramouche?"
'What the fuck do you guys want me to do then?! You were just judging me a few seconds ago because he wants to pair up with me! And now that I'm rejecting his offer you're mad too?! Ridiculous!'
"they think rejecting him is cool! It's not like they ALWAYS get a partner, right?"
"They might reject him just for looking like this and making them feel inferior,"
"Poor Scaramouche! How can someone like them reject him?"
The students went on to talk as you tried to maintain yourself calm and steady despite all these comments, but unfortunately, all that did was cause you to start feeling a little tense. Not enough to go wild or anything. Just a tiny amount. You could still deal with the ridicule, but not enough to get furious at them,
Scaramouche grimaced at the crowd of students who were talking about you while you were staring at the floor, Making them look away,
He picked up your bag off the ground and threw it over his shoulder, grabbing your hand to pull you out of the classroom with him. You didn't resist as he dragged you outside, ignoring everyone calling after him as they watched him go.
Once you two left the room, he eventually let go of your hand and kept walking. You followed behind him, keeping your mouth shut. It wasn't until he stopped in front of you and uttered, "Apologies for dragging you here against your will, and well- drawing attention onto us," he says awkwardly, scratching his neck with his free hand as he looked around,
"Also, it's not every time I do requests. I wish to be your partner for the project. we have mutual chemistry and I believe that working together would benefit both of us," he said grinning,
You blinked rapidly a few times, not knowing how to respond to such a sincere statement,
"...You're aware that bunch of people out there desire to have you as their partner for this right? I mean I am glad and surprised that you're inviting someone like me but you don't have to push yourself!" you respond nervously, fiddling with your fingers before rubbing your hands to keep from getting too nervous.
"Look, I won't force you. You can simply say no, you're only saying that because you care about what people think, Right?" he asked.
He stared at you for a moment. Then he grabbed your chin, making you meet his intense eyes. You gasped slightly at the contact, then relaxed after a second. "Just do whatever feels right to you, okay?" He sneered.
Your face flushed again as you nodded shyly at him. He smiled lightly at you before releasing your chin and letting go of your hand,
"Okay..."
After a few days, You've gotten closer to Scaramouche, everyday he would go to you and walk you home, helping you study in class and even hanging out at lunchtime.
it also took you a bit to realize that you were starting to develop feelings toward him, Who wouldn't? With his handsome features paired with his cold demeanor, plus that cute laugh of his whenever he speaks, you're sure to fall in love with him sooner or later, no matter how hard you try not to.
The earlier morning he asked you to hang out with him at the park near your house so you agreed, and now you're walking with Him beside you. It was quiet between you two, as you weren't much of a chatterbox.
The silence is mostly comfortable, though you felt your heart beating faster than normal, which made you panic slightly. Why is your heart beating this fast? Maybe you're sick!
You shake the thought away, it's probably nothing... "You alright?" Scaramouche asked, tilting his head slightly as if noticing you panicking a bit before shrugging.
You nod quickly, trying to avoid eye contact, "Yea! I'm fine, Sorry, Don't you think it's gotten cold? It's not even winter yet—"
Your rambling stops abruptly as you felt his arm move across yours to hold your hand tightly. "If you wanted to hold my hand, you could've just said so, instead of making absurd excuses," he grinned at you, squeezing your hand reassuringly,
"T-That's not—" you stutter. Your ears start burning from embarrassment. You really shouldn't let his charm affect you that easily. Or maybe it was just the way his touch felt so warm and inviting?
"What's that? Do you also want to kiss me? Now aren't we getting ahead of ourselves a little early?" he smirked down at you, leaning forward until you were nose to nose,
"I didn't even say anything— I wasn't going to!" You argued back, taking a step back from him as he chuckled.
His laugh was nice to hear, "Go ahead, I might let you." He whispered in an amused tone. The smirk remained on his face as he leaned forward again, bringing his other hand to cup your cheek, "Are you blushing?" he teased gently stroking it with his thumb while keeping eye contact with you.
Your body was heating up, it felt warm and tingly from all those butterflies suddenly fluttering around in your stomach, and your cheeks felt flushed due to his closeness. It was weird and uncomfortable how he had made you feel all flustered and embarrassed. You didn't know how to respond, so you simply closed your eyes, allowing your cheek to be caressed while his breath tickled your ear,
You felt his lips brush against yours and your heart began racing again. His thumb moved from your cheekbone and rested itself over your lips before moving slightly and softly kissing them. Your eyes flew open in shock. You stood there, frozen and completely dumbfounded as your heart rate increased drastically in both speed and volume,
"There, I kissed you." He snickered down at you, his voice low and smooth. His voice sends shivers down your spine and you blush more.
You shook your head slightly and cleared your throat before smiling at him,
"Right!" That was all you managed to mutter back.
You looked back at him for a second, then averted your gaze toward the ground once more. You couldn't believe that you got kissed by someone like Scaramouche! you didn't have any idea how to react.
but, to be fair, most girls would jump at the chance to kiss him when they first saw him, so you weren't complaining.
Your thoughts were interrupted when you felt his hand slide down your arm to grasp your hand and intertwine your fingers. You glanced down at your interlaced hands, then back up at him in confusion, "Are you fine with this?" he asked, looking at you curiously.
"Mhm! No worries." You nodded quickly as you started to walk, but hesitantly intertwined your fingers with his, causing his grin to widen.
"But... If any chance s-someone you know strolled by— we can quit holding hands, I don't want to embarrass you in front of your friends..." you mumbled, feeling his hand squeeze yours tighter.
"If someone I know happened to catch a glimpse of us, I'd pull you extra close."
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bigbadvoxbox · 3 months
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Helllooo! I'm back with another ask
I was thinking a vox getting jealous because Valentino was being Valentino and flirting with (fem) reader and vox marking her up or something like that to just prove that reader is only his- sorry if this sounds confusing lol if it ain't coherent feel free to delete, hope u have a nice day tho!!
-🎶
I love this! I wish bad violent things on Valentino so getting to write him getting rejected and shit will be fun!
warnings: nsfw. possessive sex. also unprotected sex, which u shouldn't do. semi-public/public sex (in a limo). also valentino exists in this. i hate valentino, so im gonna warn u that he's even here. fuck u valentino. marking + biting. vox has kinda like an ownership (?) kink idk what the word is but he likes the concept of you belonging to him. also warning for valentino being a gross pervy scumbag who flirts with anything with a hole.
- It was meant to just be a quick drop by with Vox, as he had to quickly stop by Valentino's studio for a quick discussion. This was your first time actually meeting the infamous Valentino. Vox had never really wanted you to meet him, for reasons unknown, but today he had no choice but to bring you along to his brief meeting.
- It went exactly like he was dreading it would.
- "Where you been hiding this little chula, huh?" Valentino asked, taking the back of your hand, and planting what started off as a light kiss, but very quickly became a long lick, leaving you feeling confused, as well as a bit mortified.
- Vox was very quick to take a step between the two of you, his eye twitching as he tried his best to keep that smile on his face, needing to keep up his stupid little act of respect so that this obnoxious bastard of a man wouldn't throw a tantrum. Valentino has power that Vox can use, so he can't just yet show just how much he dislikes the moth-demon.
- The rest of that quick little chat felt like eternity, and Vox could not WAIT to get the fuck out of those studios. Hell, he was considering fucking the shit out of you right then and there just to show Valentino that he needs to fuck off. He wouldn't outright say anything, but he sure as shit would show Valentino who you belong to.
- You barely got out of the studio and back into Vox's limo when he pounced on you.
- "That prick. He needs to learn to keep his hands off what isn't his." he grumbled to himself as he made quick work of laying you back against the seat, hovering over you. Within no time, your neck was littered with marks and bites, Vox making an effort to make them as visible as possible. Bright and clear enough for even Valentino's blind ass to see.
- Pure jealousy was fuelling him at that moment, as well as possessiveness. He was gonna make sure no other lowlife fucker ever DARED to even think about touching you ever again. That was his job alone. You were HIS girl.
- Part of him considered leaving his name on you somewhere, somehow, but no. That could wait. It would be too rash a decision right now, he should wait until you could both decide on such a thing together when you were thinking clearly. He didn't know if you'd be okay with that, so he decided against it, but the thought definitely lingered in the back of his mind.
- While his hands trailed all over your body, touching and groping everywhere, feeling what's HIS, he revelled in the feeling of your hands on his body too. He knew you only had eyes for him, and that you were just as irritated by Valentino's actions as he was. That only spurred him on, and next thing you knew, the two of you were barely even clothed in the back of his limo.
- Vox had you practically in every position in the back of that limo. At first, he was hovering over you, and it was sweet, close, passionate, then, he turned you two around so he was drilling into you from behind, rough, sinful, and messy. He liked this position, it gave him the perfect view of your bodies joining together as he gripped your hips, while you gripped the car door for stability, your shared heavy breaths fogging up the windows.
- Finally, he had you in his lap, riding him. He sat up, your chests pressing together as he took this opportunity, so close to you, to leave deeper bites and marks, now extending from your neck to your jaw and shoulders, even low enough to your tits.
- The limo was definitely shaking.
- After a couple rounds, you both decided you had made enough of a mess for one day, and had successfully gotten both of your frustrations out of your systems.
- A knock at the limo window caught Vox's attention, and he rolled the tinted windows down a tad, quickly covering you with his shirt. It was Valentino on the other side.
- "You've been parked out here for a while. Thought you were busy?" he said in a snarky tone. Vox couldn't help but smirk slightly, quickly looking for your approval, before rolling the window down a tad more, exposing the mess you two had made, as well as you, now only covered by Vox's shirt, which thankfully covered enough, only leaving you exposed from the collarbones up and the thighs down, but left just enough on display for Valentino to very clearly see the art gallery of hickeys and bite marks that littered your body.
- "We were busy."
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fraudulent-cheese · 26 days
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Actually no, i want to expand on my relative dislike of WT. Because when people talk about this season's faults, i BARELY see people mentionning the complete flatterning of like half it's cast!
Oh sure, people are super willing to throw shit at TDA and especially TDAS for it's flanderisation of characters, but outside of some rogue posts by mutuals, i don't see ANY OF YOU pointing the finger at World Tour when i'd argue it's especially eggregious.
Owen's the easiest example of this, and while it didn't start this season it got so much during it. Nearly all of his lines revolve around food, his aerophobia, or Izzy for a single episode. His relationship with Alejandro is also super indicative of this; im willing to accept the HC that he was aware of Alejandro's dislike of him and just wanted to win him over, but that's absolutely not what the writters intended, no way in hell. He's just completely oblivious to his shitty behavior when he seemed at least somewhat aware of Heather's shifty behavior back on Island, or at least able to stand up for himself (shoutouts to that one Action episode). It's not fun to watch, either.
Bridgette too had her personality reduced to one or two traits, for either comedy reasons (because apparently people making out 24/7 is funny) or story reasons (establishing Alejandro as a threat who uses flirting and his general attractiveness to advance his strategy) and it suckssssss because she was! an actual character! and World Tour especially benefits from having a 'straight man' type character that can look at the other's weirdness and react to it like a normal-ish person! That and she could be an interesting presence to have on Team Victory, with her friendships with Leshawna and Courtney for instance.
DJ too is a BIG victim of the flanderisation thing; his personality is dumbed down to just being a huge scaredy cat, and his character is just The Curse. That's all he does and that's all he is, all he talks about. And that sucks because he too, was an actual person in Island and even Action! Sure, he was sometimes a pushover and had an accident-prone bunny, but he was also kind and could actually go out of his way to play pranks on people! But all of that is just gone in WT.
There's also the characters that weren't flanderised, and more just. Written entirely out of character. Outside of the entire Love Triangle (which i will get to) the biggest example of this is Leshawna to me. The writters straight forget the episode in Action where she's entirely dsitrustful of the Pizza they were offered (which did turn out to be tampered with) due to Chef being uncharasterically nice to them. Guess what Alejandro was doing. Being overly nice to her out of nowhere. Frankly she fell victim to the same thing Bridgette did; needing to be sacked for Alejandro's villany to be better established.
Ok fuck i need to mention the Love Triangle too because while people complain about it alot i don't think they complain about the correct stuff. i'll go rapid fire because it's been talked to death however; Gwen's liking of Duncan is a retcon, her acting like this is out of character for her frankly, Duncan's out of character by trying to emotionally manipulate his ex and the lore established to justify it makes it worse (remember the "At least im straight with people" line?), Courtney is villanised from even before this point which while her anger might've been targetted at the wrong person she was justified in being upset imo, Courtney's entire character is thrown out of a window in general this season, blah blah blah.
I'll end on the whole "the writters forgetting entire character traits/arcs" Cody still hitting on Gwen this season makes no goddamn sense and is super uncomfortable to watch. He's really such a nothing character man. Sierra deserved better than being a manic pixie stalker girl.
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spif-lol · 8 months
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Reasons why the simpsons hit and run stream is jerma's best stream
it's ELEVEN HOURS LONG
you get to witness his slow descent into madness as he insists on playing the whole game in one sitting
I can watch it when i replay the game, would recommend makes it way more enjoyable
he spends too much time doing really bad impressions trying to copy voice lines for the game and yelling "HIRE ME IM AVAILABLE"
He decides to confess half an hour in that he knows nothing about the simpsons and has only seen like one or two episodes
this is ten minutes after he references a specific episode, and then proceeds to get told off for 'spoiling' an episode of the simpsons (from like 1995) by chat
Chat also somehow manages to convince him that ten year old boy Bart Simpson's famous catchphrase from everyone's favourite family animated tv show is 'eat ass'
In general it switches between him refusing to believe things people tell him about the game despite being true and falling for obvious lies
he starts the game going 'lol wouldnt it be funny if you could run over simpsons characters' and then jokingly drives towards civillians thinking they'll jump out of the way. they go flying. he is so confused
the dissonance between early and later parts of the stream are palpable. It turns from a cheerful and lighthearted exploration of a funny simpsons game that he refuses to take seriously or accept that it could genuinely make him angry, and transforms into a desperate race against time, his computer and his own hubris as he seeks simply to finish the game so he can sleep. This stream destroys him.
the way the stream highlights are named on his youtube is hilarious. "Jerma will not get angry at the simpson's hit and run" -> "Jerma might get a bit angry at the simpson's hit and run" -> "d'oh"
it's extremely funny how many time he's convinced he's in the last level of the game, only to be wrong. the first time he thinks that is in the first section and hour of the stream
easily his most rewatchable stream (this is gonna cover a lot of dot points)
the amount of tragic irony and foreshadowing in this stream is almost cinematic.
at the very start of the game he complains about the music being too loud and monologues about sounds and over stimulation of game music bothers him, which of course will be very funny in the finale
he also comments a few time at the start about how annoying homer's random voice lines are, and says 'oh god he's gonna repeat that a thousand times before the end of this game'. he's right, and it nearly drives him crazy by the final mission
speaking of the final mission(s), the second time he has to transport the toxic sludge from power plant to the school he like pauses the game and very seriously addresses chat like 'alright tell me right now are the next three levels also me driving the nuclear waste to the school that cant be possible right'. and then just accepting in defeat that that is in fact how this incredibly stupid and difficult children's game finishes
when he first races against the malibu stacy car and gets destroyed he gets mad and says he wishes he could drive that car. then when he gets to drive it in later levels he quickly decides its his favourite and maintains that until the end of the game
on rewatch... you hear him audibly crack open a can that chat demands he prove to them is soft drink and not alcohol like A WHOLE HOUR before The Incident and it's a little like watching a disaster movie where you see the characters laughing and having fun little knowing how they are being hastened towards their own doom... like chat keeps bugging him about it, he keeps making excuses, he keeps sipping the drink. they bring attention to it so much and you listen to it just knowing the pain that is yet to come. dramatic irony at its finest and most heartache inducing
15. ohmyfucking gaaaawd no! no... god... ICANDOITINAJUMP! ..... BART. WHERE IS HE??? BAAART!!!! AAAUUGH
16. actually fr there's a lot of memorable jerma lines in this stream, rewatching it is like watching a jerma funny moment compilation
17. the final couple of levels where he is getting steadily more overwhelmed to the point of ferality, and then he says he has an idea and goes to the sound menu and turns everything off. voice lines. music. sound effects. and then we watch him play the level in complete silence. and it actually helps him focus its really funny
18. the whole tragic sequence where he is in the FINAL LEVEL. he has played it so many times and just missed it by a few seconds. he is tired. he is hungry. he just wants to get off stream and eat a BURGER. he is focussing as hard as he can. he is almost there. he runs over too many things and the police are after him. but its okay. he's doing it! he's gonna make it!!! he gets to the school with time to spare and is sucked up into the end of the game beam. it's over. except then the police get sucked into the beam as well. he gets arrested in the beam. which teleports him and the car out of the beam. WHICH MEANS THE TIMER RUNS OUT AND HE LOSES. so he has to do it all over again. it's actually so so so funny and also something i think i personally wouldn't survive if i was in jerma's position in that moment
19. okay we have to talk about The Incident. bc i already alluded to it and bc like, i couldn't not talk about it. as stated above Jerma cracks open a can so you can hear it and chat immediately accuses him of being an alcoholic. he adamantly insists that it is a soft drink not a beer but they refuse to believe him unless he proves it by showing camera. he's playing on a modded ps2 pc port or whatever of the simpsons so it's a complicated setup and he explains that it would be too hard and also he's shirtless so they will just have to believe without seeing. chat continues to harass him while he goes on to play the game, specifically most of the lisa level. he laughs it off but eventually caves, gets up and get a blanket to cover himself and then alt tabs, holds his can up to the camera and says 'alright you satisfied? that might have just fucked up the game'. so then he tries to tab back into the game and it. crashes. hard. so hard that the game won't actually turn back on. so jerma's cursing and fiddling with the controls and saying its over. then it finally reboots and the game works and he's so relieved and it loads and he realises that he has lost SO MUCH PROGRESS. he's back at the start of the lisa section. this is truly the turning point of the game where it goes from being a fun experience to a nightmare gauntlet
20. on a related note: jerma waiting with bated breath *sound of simpsons game booting back up after refusing to for far too long* jerma: yeeeAAAAAH
21. im watching it right now as i replay, which is why im thinking about it obv. so i will almost certainly have more to add to this
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