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jjunieworld · 4 months

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the great bake off! ༘ ˚· 🍞 𓂅

read part two here ⇢ spilt milk ⋆｡˚

pairing: choi soobin x gn!reader

genre: fluff, strangers to lovers, bakery au, baker!soobin and non-baker!reader, “competing”, slight banter, brief mention of blood, some sexual innuendos, soobin is super shy

synopsis: after getting fired from your job as a pizza delivery driver, you’re in desperate need to find a new job before you get kicked out of your apartment. that’s when you hear about the local bakery looking for employees. thinking, “why not? i’ve worked with dough before!”, you apply and actually get the job. that’s when you and the son of the bakery’s owner decide that it would be fun to compete to see who can make the most baked goods for a prize.

word count: 8.6k┊part two┊masterlist

a/n: i’m a little late, but thank you all so much for 100 followers! here’s a little treat (lmao) expressing my gratitude! finally joining everyone in making a baker!soobin fic lmao… i got carried away so this is pretty long. i don’t even think it counts as a oneshot anymore but i hope you enjoy :) shoutout to the lovely @jjunberry for the florist!sunoo agenda ❀

“and don’t come back!” yelled the manager of the job you just got fired from. you took your apron and hat off and threw them on the ground in front of the establishment. you scoffed loudly, noticing the passing stares of the people walking outside and the judging ones of the customers inside.

“wouldn’t fucking dream of it!” you yelled back. the manager stepped back out of the doorframe, eyes wide, lip curled, and brows scrunched ready to retort. you cut him off with a middle finger and turned, angrily walking away to where your car was.

you didn’t need that stupid pizza delivery job anyways. half the time you weren’t even delivering pizzas because of how shitty they tasted. which wasn’t a fault of you, but a fault of your manager, who was also the owner.

majority of the time he had you in the back doing his job, making the pizzas, while he sat in the break room watching alpha male videos on his phone.

you slammed your door shut and rubbed at your temples. you had a tension headache and you couldn’t think.

“fuck!” you yelled loudly. what are you going to do now? you need a job so you can pay the rent of your shitty overpriced apartment. and you just knew you weren’t getting your last paycheck from your ex-manager.

sighing, you pull out of the parking lot next to the pizza place and head back to your apartment. you desperately needed a shower and to start job hunting as soon as possible.

you push open the door of your apartment and take a look around, thankful that you cleaned before you left. it was small, but it was home.

after your shower, you got a call from your best friend.

“what a fucking asshole!” sunoo exclaimed. you propped your phone up on the roll of paper towels as you began making something to eat. “but now you can come work with me!”

your face scrunched up. “i’d rather get evicted. love you though!” sunoo was a florist. there wasn’t anything wrong with that, but you could barely tell a daisy apart from a daffodil. and the thought of being surrounded by a bunch of different flower smells gave you another headache.

sunoo rolled his eyes. “fine then!” on your phone screen he raised his hands up and took a step back from the camera. “be broke then! don’t come crying to me when you’re out on the streets in the pouring rain waiting on a miracle when i’m offering you one right now!” you laughed at him.

“whatever! working with you is my last option though.” you put a pot of water on the stove for ramen. you really didn’t feel like making something elaborate after the day you had. “help me, sunoo! start listing off available jobs!”

he raised his eyebrow at you, “what makes you think i know what jobs are available and what jobs aren’t? go on google!” you rolled your eyes at him. he chuckled at you. “i did hear that that bakery downtown was looking for new employees, though.”

you raised your eyebrows at him, an ‘i told you so!’ smile on your face. he just rolled his eyes at you. “are they? i’ll have to call them. that’s a job for tomorrow y/n, though. i am so fucking tired.”

“i’d be tired too if i acted like a menace everyday,” sunoo replied. you shot him a look. “i do not act like a menace!”

“this is your second job in like three months… who are you? trish from austin and ally?” you gasped, putting a hand to your chest in somewhat fake shock. at least trish got a new job easily. it took you forever to find that pizza place job, and even longer for you to actually start working. you very nearly actually almost did get evicted if sunoo hadn’t stepped in and helped you.

“goodbye! i love you!” you said and leaned on the counter towards the counter. sunoo gave the camera a kiss and you jumped away in mock disgust. “bye, i love you!”

you ended your call and sat down to eat the ramen you made. sighing, you shoveled the noodles into your mouth. you really hoped that you got hired at this bakery. you didn’t know what you were gonna do if you don’t.

the next day you were up bright and early in the morning ready to call the bakery. you scoured google to see what the number was and after a couple misdirects you finally found it. your hands shook slightly as you pressed the phone to your ear and listened to the rings.

“hello, nap of a star bakery! if you are calling for a custom pie, orders will be pushed until next week!” a deep voice said over the line. your eyebrows raised slightly in shock and you hesitated for a moment as you thought of your next words.

“hello! i was actually calling to ask if you were hiring,” you replied. there was slight shuffling on the phone. “hello! yes, we are! have you picked up an application from the bakery? i can also email you a pdf version of it if you choose.”

you thought for a moment. it couldn’t hurt to go down and actually check the place out before deciding to work there. you did not need another repeat of the arcade job again.

“that’s okay! i can come down to the bakery for it!” the voice gave you an, “okay, have a good day!” and you hung up the phone after repeating them. you got your things together and left your apartment.

it took you a good minute to find the bakery. sunoo even had to text you directions. you recalled that the bakery was new and local. it was tucked away in between two buildings on the corner of the street. you parked your car and stepped your way towards the door.

the bell above the door rang as you pushed it open and stepped inside. behind the counter, a very tall dark-haired guy stood covered in flour rolling dough in a bowl. his head snapped up at the sound and a friendly smile plastered on his face. he pulled the gloves off and sat them next to the bowl. then he came up to where the cash register and a monitor were.

“hello! how may i help you?” he asked, rolling up his falling sleeves.

you took a look around the establishment. it was actually very nice. behind him, a chalkboard of everything their selling was written in an array of different colors. different baked goods were on display under the counter where the guy stood. there was also a door behind him to the back. natural light filtered in from the big windows at the front of the shop, highlighting the light minty colored walls and hanging stars. wooden tables and chairs with quilted seat covers tied to them were scattered around the open space. the overhead lighting was subtle and not harsh like so many other bakeries were. all in all, the bakery was very cozy.

“hi,” you smiled, “i called here not too long ago. about the applications?” his face lit up in realization and his mouth formed an ‘o’ shape. he started to move around the counter.

“ah, yes! the applications! i can get you a pen if you want to fill it out here?” he asked as he grabbed the application from one of the tables near the door and turned to hand it to you. “assuming you brought your resume…” he then trailed off, a shy smile on his lips.

thankfully you did bring your resume. you took the application from him. “i did, actually, thank you!” he nodded slightly to himself and he walked back over to the counter and grabbed a pen from a cup next to the keyboard. he handed that to you as well. “here you go!”

you sat at one of the tables a little ways away from the counter. customers began filing in for orders as you filled the application out. all the motion was distracting you and you couldn’t help watching the dark-haired guy work.

he seemed to move fluidly from taking an order, pressing it all into the monitor, and either retrieving it from the back or display. you didn’t even realize he was also making more things while taking and completing orders until you saw him furiously trying to get the flour off himself when there were no customers around. you giggle lowly to yourself and finally finished filling the application out.

his back was turned to you as you walked up to the counter. he was still trying to get the flour off of him but was spreading it all over his clothes and apron instead. “uh, i finished the application,” you said softly. he jumped and quickly turned to you, an embarrassed smile pulling at the corners of his mouth.

you stacked your resume with the application and handed it to him with the pen on top. he took it from you and sat it next to the keyboard.

you got the chance to get a look at his name tag attached to his brown and mint apron. the pretty signature with a shooting star next to it told you that his name was soobin. you got a good look at his face. he was quite pretty, even covered in flour.

he laid his hands flat on the counter and leaned towards you slightly. “okay, so your application will get registered and we should be with you within the week!” he told you, giving you another friendly smile. you returned it. “thank you!”

“have a good day!” you shot his words back to him and left the bakery, making your way to your car.

it was torture waiting for the email to know if you got the job or not. you were sitting in the chair behind the counter at chaconne, the flower shop that sunoo worked at, eyes glued to your phone as you kept refreshing your inbox.

“refreshing your inbox every five seconds isn’t going to make the email appear faster.” sunoo said as he arranged different flowers into a bouquet.

you sighed and slouched in the chair. you guess he was right. it’s only been a couple of days and it seemed like soobin was the only employee.

after sunoo wrapped the flowers and tied it off, he turned to you. today was a slow day in the shop, hence why you were behind the counter. not that sunoo’s boss minded, mrs. jeon loves you.

“so… anyone cute working at the bakery?” he asked, smirking. you looked up from your phone and chuckled. “there’s only one employee, at least i think. he was cute, in fact!” you replied. sunoo’s face lit up.

you tilted your head at him, you knew that look. that was his matchmaking look. “absolutely not,” you quickly said before he could open his mouth. “i need to keep this job if i do get it.” he brought his shoulders up.

“it’s gonna happen anyways. what else are the both of you to do in there together except get to know each other?” he brought his shoulders down and then leaned towards you, eyes wide. “what’s his personality like, tell me! he’s a baker right? duh, of course he is. i bet he’s a softie.” sunoo started rambling, mainly to himself.

you held your hands up. “woah, i met him for a total of like twenty minutes. i don’t have that information.” sunoo sighed and turned back around as customers entered.

you kept refreshing your phone, making small talk with sunoo as he made more bouquets. suddenly, you heard a ‘ping!’ sound and your eyes snapped to your phone to see the notification. “oh my god! it’s from the bakery!” you exclaimed. sunoo came over to you and leaned down next to you to see your phone. “well open it!”

you did just that and almost screamed from excitement had it not been for sunoo covering your mouth and looking around the shop at the lingering customers. “i’m not gonna get evicted!” you exclaimed and sunoo laughed as he rang up another customer.

it was your first day of working at nap of a star bakery and you were standing next to soobin and the owner of the bakery as your training started. it turns out that soobin was the son of the owner, and so far it was just the two of them at the shop. well, now the three of you.

“i’m so thankful you put in an application, y/n dear. it’s been difficult running the bakery with just my boy. your extra hands are very welcome!” mrs. choi told you, smiling warmly. you noticed the light blush across soobin’s cheeks as he rubbed his hand over his face. you smiled warmly at mrs. choi, “i’m very thankful you decided to hire me!”

she put you and soobin to work in the back room, starting on the goods, as she dealt with the customers up front. soobin began showing you how to make the dough for snickerdoodles. you stood side by side in your matching aprons and gloves.

“you want to make sure that you add enough flour so the consistency isn’t super sticky.” soobin said as he showed you the amount of flour to put into it. you let out a brief laugh.

“this isn’t my first time baking, i got this.” you gave him a confident smile. he raised his eyebrows.

“okay then… all you!” he took a step back from the bowl and you took one towards it.

you made snickerdoodles before. at least, you think you did. they were a pretty popular cookie to make, surely you’ve made them at least once in your life before. you cracked the eggs soobin had put out into the bowl. soobin had already added the butter, so it was up to you to figure out the rest of the ingredients.

thinking of what usually goes into cookies, you started reaching for different things. you eyeballed the amount you put in.

“oh! that’s not— you should really measure the ingredients!” soobin suddenly exclaimed. you felt his watchful eyes on you as you worked. you waved a hand behind you. you had this.

once you got all the ingredients in, you dug your gloved hands in and started mixing. there was sputtering from soobin behind you, but you ignored him. the dough was really sticky, so you took soobin’s words from earlier and reached for the flour.

the flour suddenly quickly poured out from the bag, way too much of it falling into the bowl. “oops!” you muttered, setting the bag back down, getting sticky dough everywhere. you dug your hands in again and started mixing until the dough was firm. you picked some up and rolled it into a small ball, then dipped the outside of the ball into the sugar and cinnamon mixture soobin has already set out.

you continued the process a few more times, struggling with the crumbling dough, until you filled the pan. you peeled off your gloves and picked the pan up, walking over to where the stoves were, a dumbfounded soobin trailing behind you.

mrs. choi popped her head in from the door and asked you both how it was going. you both turned. “it’s going great!” you beamed, pan still in hand. she gave you both a satisfied smile and went back to the front.

you put the pan of cookies in the oven. setting it to 415° you thought aloud at the amount of minutes you should set the timer for. “i think ten minutes should be good. or maybe fifteen? i’ll do fifteen just to be sure!”

once that was all settled, you dusted off your apron and turned to soobin, who was staring at you with wide eyes and mouth agape. “see, i told you. i got this! so what’s next?” your question must’ve snapped him out of his daze.

“oh— uh… you know— let’s just wait until the cookies are done. then we’ll continue.” he stuttered. you shrugged, stepping away from the stoves to get new gloves.

the timer dinged and you grabbed an oven mitt to take the pan of cookies out of the oven. you sat the pan on the cooling rack as you turned the oven off. soobin came near you and leaned over the freshly baked cookies, inspecting them. they were a pretty deep golden brown.

he grabbed the nearby metal spatula and went to lift one of the cookies to look under it. the cookie completely crumbled as he did. the inside was burnt. your mouth dropped in shock.

soobin looked over to you, his hand with the spatula still hanging in the air. he straightened, “so… let me show you how to actually make snickerdoodles. so that they don’t turn out like… this.” he motioned with the spatula to your failed cookies.

you nodded and couldn’t help but laugh. soobin hesitated before joining in with you. “this was a disaster, i’m sorry.” you said, covering your mouth. soobin took another look at the cookies before throwing them away in the nearby trash can. he looked back to you, “are you sure you’ve baked before?”

an embarrassed smile spread on your face. “no, not really. i mean i’ve made those cookies from the packages where you just have to add water…” soobin gave you a bemused look. he shook his head slightly and motioned you over to where the ingredients were.

standing next to him, he began guiding you on how to actually make snickerdoodles, you following his instructions. when you were about to do something wrong, like stick your gloved hands in the bowl to mix the dough again, he would stop you and tell you how to actually do it. “instead of mixing it with your hands, you want to take this—“ he held up a straight spatula “—and fold the dough instead.” soobin demonstrated for you as he spoke.

you nodded, following along. soobin stopped his motions and handed you the spatula. you took it from him and picked up from where he left off, folding the dough. once everything was mixed, soobin softly clapped. you laughed in amusement.

he pointed to the dough, “see how it’s not super sticky and not as firm and crumbly as yours was? that’s the consistency you want. this is the consistency that you’ll mainly be working towards when baking anything.” he picked up a small amount of dough and began rolling it between his hands. you copied his actions, and then rolled the ball into the sugar and cinnamon mixture.

after filling the pan, once again, soobin took the pan over to the oven and placed it inside. he turned to you, a reassuring smile on his face. “you don’t want to put it on too high or keep the cookies in for too long.” he put the oven on 350° and set the timer for 8 minutes.

“if you feel like maybe they’ve been in for too long, then you can go ahead and check them. i usually use a toothpick and the spatula to check the consistency and to make sure the bottom isn’t burnt.” soobin said. he did just that and backed away, his mouth forming a satisfied grin. nodding, you took in all the information he had just taught you.

that’s how the rest of your shift went. soobin walking you through how to make various baked goods. once you felt like you could start working on your own, soobin would move on to work on something else. here and there he would give you his input, and you’d apply it to whatever you were making. you and soobin made small talk as you worked, getting to know each other until it was time for you to start cleaning up.

you were absolutely covered in flour and dried dough. thankfully, once you and soobin we’re done with one baked good, you would clean whatever you used and the area before starting the next thing. so it wasn’t as messy as you were initially expecting the end of the day to be. you stripped your gloves off and threw them into the trash, soobin doing the same.

the two of you stood at the sink, him washing the dishes and you drying and putting them away. “i have an idea,” you said, breaking the comfortable silence between the two of you. soobin looked over to you, shaking his head a little to get their hair out of his eyes. he raised an eyebrow in question. “tomorrow we should see who can make the most stuff. like a competition! we can compete and whoever makes the most goods at the end of the week can win a prize or something! i don’t know, we can workshop the idea.” you exclaimed, you gave him a big hopeful smile as you rinsed and dried the dish he handed you.

“compete?” he asked. you nodded. he hummed as he thought. “okay! how are we gonna tally up points?” you put the whisk back in the drawer as you thought.

“each baked good can be a certain amount of points! like cakes and pies are three, pastries and cupcakes are two, and cookies and whatever else are one?” you looked at him, head tilted. “we can keep track on the chalkboard!” you then pointed over to the chalkboard next to where the door to the front of the bakery was. right now, it had a half erased list of what the two of you needed to make on it.

“okay!” soobin smiled. “let’s do it!” you squealed a little and ran over to the chalkboard, erasing the list on it. “hey! you’re suppose to be helping me wash dishes!” soobin laughed. you ignored him as you wrote.

on the chalkboard you wrote soobin and y/n in capital letters, drawing a line between your names and under them so it formed a table. “today doesn’t count since i was learning.” you spoke, placing the piece of chalk back on the little rack and turning to him. he looked back at you as he washed the dishes, grinning. you returned to his side and rinsed the dishes that he piled up.

“it’s on!” you said and glanced over to him. he laughed and shook his head. “in your wildest dreams.”

sunday rolled around quite fast and the bake off competition between you and soobin was at an all time high. currently, soobin was winning with a total of sixty-seven points. you were close behind him with sixty-six points. you were rushing to finish the cookies you were making for another point. the timer on the oven sounded off and you jumped in excitement, pulling out the freshly baked perfect cookies.

“another point for me!” you exclaimed, walking over to the chalkboard and adding a tally under your name. you turned to soobin with a wide grin. “now we’re tied!”

“because you keep cheating! all you’ve been doing the whole day is making cookies!” soobin spoke as he frosted a cake order meant for a birthday. on the top, the cake read “happy birthday honey!” with yellow and orange swirls and hearts. your grin widen and you gave a smug shrug. “step your cookies up before you crumble!”

soobin playfully scoffed at you and went back to adding intricate tubing to the cake. you leaned over it, watching him work. “i would be ahead of you right now if you didn’t take all the cakes and pies.” you mumbled, loud enough for him to hear. he chuckled at you, staring over at you for a brief second.

“i’ll let you have the next one,” soobin said softly. he added the last bit of tubing on the cake before the door to the front opened. mrs. choi came in with a small piece of paper in hand. you and soobin turned towards her in unison.

“another order for one of our famous blueberry pies!” mrs. choi exclaimed as she wiggled the paper. she pinned it on the cork board next to the chalkboard with your scores and went back up to the front.

you and soobin looked back to each other, frozen. you saw the gears in his brain turning as you stared into his eyes. in the short week you’ve gotten to know him and the competition you’ve both started, you learned to read the look in his eyes when he’s up to something. narrowing your eyes slightly, you shifted your body ever so subtly to the cork board just in case you needed to make a break for it. a slight smile tugged at the corners of soobin’s mouth.

“it’s all you,” he said lowly. your eyes narrowed further and cautiously you took a step, eyes locked on him. taking another, and another until you reached the cork board, you let your eyes slip from him and his wide smile. the bag of frosting still in his hand.

snatching the piece of paper, your eyes scoured over it hungrily, taking in all of the information. a mischievous smile spread across your lips as you read further and saw that the order also called for four blueberry and lemon puffed pastries. you were so winning this battle.

you felt a breath on your neck and turned to see soobin looming over you. you quickly pressed the paper to your chest and faced him, a gasp escaping your lips.

“cheater! you said you were gonna give me this one!” an amused smile took over your mischievous one. soobin held a cake box, cake inside, in his arms. he lifted his shoulders, a laugh shaking them.

“you were taking too long for it to be a simple blueberry pie.” soobin set the cake box on the table by the door to the front. he then put a finger to his lips and tapped it cartoonishly, eyes looking up to the ceiling as he hummed. “and did i say i was going to give you this one?” you nodded quickly.

“i lied,” soobin said. he then dashed to the table where the ingredients were. you dashed after him, trying to start the pie before he did.

the two of you moved frantically around the large kitchen, running into each other and stumbling over things sitting on the floor. you quickly whisked together cornstarch and sugar as you ran to the fridge. pushing soobin out the way with your hip and spilling a little bit of the mixture over you, you retrieved the fresh blueberries with your free hand and ran over to the stove.

soobin already had a saucepan on the stove ready with the heat on. water and lemon juice already inside. you tipped the cornstarch and sugar mixture inside as well, half of it landing on the stove top rather than in the pan. you grabbed the spoon next to the stove and began furiously mixing before you felt hands around your hips. soobin pulled you away from the stove and to the side as he snatched the spoon from your hands and started mixing himself.

a giggle escaped your lips as you turned back to the ingredients table and finished the dough he started. it was already done since it had been refrigerated yesterday. you grabbed the rolling pin and flattened the dough out, making sure to flour the surfaces so the dough doesn’t stick. saving enough of the dough for the lattice of the pie, you pressed the remaining dough into a pie plate that you quickly grabbed. you then trimmed and fluted the edges.

you ran to get a circular knife. soobin must’ve finally noticed that you weren’t hovering around him and turned to see what you were doing, a confident smile on his lips. the smile dropped when he saw that you already had the base of the pie ready. soobin dropped the spoon on the counter next to the stove and dashed to where you were cutting strips into dough.

soobin tried to push you out the way with his hip but you dug your feet into ground and pushed him back. you started cutting the dough faster, the strips coming out sloppy and uneven. majority of them weren’t even the same length.

“accept defeat!” you laughed as you moved soobin’s prying hands away from the dough. the kitchen was filled with laughs and soobin poked a finger into your side, making you jump. “not when i’m so close to glory!”

“let me have this like you said you would!” you exclaimed. you were coming up on the last strips that you needed for the pie. it was hard to cut the dough when soobin kept grabbing at it. giggling, you pressed the circular knife back into the dough moving hurriedly when you got another shove from soobin’s hip.

the circular knife suddenly nicked your finger and you jumped back, dropping the knife, as blood began flowing from the wound. you both freeze and suddenly soobin is grabbing your hand with the bloody finger.

unconsciously, soobin puts your bloody finger in his mouth. all movements freeze as you stare at each other with wide eyes. not even breathing could be heard. the two of you are covered in various different ingredients and the kitchen around you is a mess.

soobin slowly takes your finger out of his mouth, his eyes widening by the second. your heart starts to beat rapidly at the exchange. heat warms up your face in full force and you can see the redness creep up from the back of soobin’s neck.

“oh my god…” soobin finally says. he’s still holding your hand, but, thanks to him the blood is no longer flowing. “oh my god! i’m so sorry, y/n! that was a force of habit.” soobin repeats. you let out an anxious giggle.

“you usually put people’s bloody fingers in your mouth?” you ask teasingly. his cheeks are a deep pink and you giggle at the sight. your heart seems to be beating faster and faster with each passing moment. soobin breaks away from your gaze with great effort, embarrassment written clearly all over his features. the tension between you is high and you start to sweat in your loose clothes and apron.

“i’m so so sorry, i really did not mean to do that,” soobin says lowly. you break into a fit of giggles, amused by the whole thing. slowly, soobin joins you with hesitant chuckles. soon you’re both doubled over, stomachs hurting from laughing so hard.

you’re holding onto the table for support when soobin speaks again. “maybe… we should take a breather…” he trails and you nod in agreement, holding your stomach slightly. soobin takes your hand softly and leads you to the sink where the first aid is. he motions for you to wash your hands. as you wash them, he pulls out a bandaid and begins opening it. once your hands are dry, he gently takes them and wraps the bandaid around the shallow wound on your finger.

soobin smiles shyly at you, his hands still holding yours. “y’know what… you can have the pie.” the blush on his cheeks has spread to his whole face as he spoke. you giggle and nod, “yeah, i would like that.” soobin’s face lights up in sudden realization.

“oh my god! the pie!” he turns to the stove, letting go of your hands, as he runs over to it. he takes the saucepan with the blueberry filling off the heated burner and puts it on one of the ones that’s turned off. you jog over to him, you both inspect the filling as he takes the spoon and mixes it. it was a little thicker than you both intended, but it was fine. you look at each other and start laughing.

“here, you finish the pie, and i’ll start cleaning up. we both look like a mess.” soobin hands you the spoon with a grin and you take it. he tried wiping some of the flour off of him to no avail as he walked over to the ingredients table.

by the time the blueberry filling has cooled, soobin has cleaned the majority of the kitchen. you bring the pan with the filling over to the pie plate and pour it inside the crust, saving the remaining for the pastries. soobin had already gotten the pastries ready for you, so you used the remaining filling for them.

the lattice for the top of the pie came out shotty at best, but it wouldn’t matter once it baked. you put both the pie and the pastries into their own oven and set them to cook. you turned to soobin to see he was about to start washing the dishes.

“i’ll wash them,” you said. he’s basically cleaned the whole kitchen, it was the least you can do. you washed and dried the dishes, putting them back in their respective places. you leaned back onto the counter near the ovens next to soobin.

soobin had updated the chalkboard, adding his three points for the cake he made and your seven points for the pie and pastries. he bumped your shoulder with his. “you won,” he said softly. soobin then grinned and added, “this week.” you chuckled at him, turning to him slightly.

“so what’s my prize?” you asked. the two of you hadn’t actually come up with what the prize would be. you’ve both been too focused on making the baked goods to actually win. soobin’s eyes wided a fraction, blush once again reddening his cheeks slightly. “what do you want?”

you faced forward again as you thought about it. “i don’t know… what are you willing to give me?” soobin’s blush deepens, but you aren’t facing him to notice. after a moment with no answer, you looked over to him, awaiting an answer. his head is angled down and it’s subtly tilted away from you.

soobin let’s out a cough and wipes his face before looking back up at you. “uh— what— um… how about i bake you anything of your choosing?” he sputters. you smile at him, “anything? even if it’s difficult?” soobin playfully scoffed and waved a hand in the air before crossing his arms over his chest.

“nothing is too difficult for me! it can be anything! cake, pie, pastry, cookie, bread, whatever. puffed, filled, turnovers, upside down, layered, anything. whatever you choose!” you thought for a moment, then smiled warmly at him. “what about blueberry bread?” you asked. “but, like really fancy… in honor of my first win and for many to come!”

he laughed at the smirk on your face. “done! when do you want it?” you shrugged at him, “whenever you have the time.” he nodded, more to himself than to you.

you were excited to see how soobin made the blueberry bread. you giggled at the thought of him giving you a fancy set up for something as simple as bread. nodding back to him anyway, the two of you made your way to the front of the bakery to end your shift.

sunoo had an eyebrow raised as you recalled the previous day’s events. he was half listening to your rambling and half paying attention to the customer he was checking out.

“and then,” you said, literally sitting on the edge of your seat, “he put my finger in his mouth!” sunoo whipped around to face you, eyes wide. the customer, who was starting to walk away, froze in their spot, also staring widely at you. “i know,” you nodded.

“he didn’t mean to… he said it was a force of habit, but still. like what? my heart was beating so fast, sunoo, you don’t even understand!” you continued. the customer gave you a wide playful smile and a thumbs up before exiting the shop. sunoo gasped as he took your hands.

sunoo looked at the fresh bandaid on your finger intensely. he then leaned back and looked at you, a knowing smirk on his lips. “what did i say, y/n! what did i say!” he teased. “and what happened after that? you started taking off each other’s clothes?” your face heated.

“no! we went back to baking!” you smacked his arm. sunoo sighed loudly. “lame! you should’ve told him to fill something else.” he gave you a wink as another customer came in.

you covered your flushed face with your hands. “sunoo!” you harshly whispered. he just laughed at you.

when you went into the bakery for your shift that day, you were surprised to see that soobin had already prepared your prize. in the back, the ingredients table was decorated with a flowery tablecloth. there was a pretty lace doily under where the plate of blueberry bread sat. candles were lit and there was a small note that read: for the talented y/n y/l/n in a bold cursive font.

soobin then came up to you, he was dressed very nicely with a button up shirt tucked into black slacks. there was a matching black tie tied around his neck. he held a metal plate with a tea towel and wrapped silverware on it in one hand, the other arm pressed behind his back.

“for you, my dear.” he held the metal plate towards you in a bow. you let out a small laugh at the whole scene as you took the contents from the plate. heart skipping a beat. just then did you realize that soobin had drawn a cartoonish mustache on his upper lip. loud belly laughs erupted from you and you leaned against the table for support. “the mustache?” you managed to breathe out, it being followed by another fit of laughter.

soobin joined you, relaxing his stiff stance. he sat the metal plate on the table. “you said make it fancy! i made it fancy!” you giggled and nodded, “you sure did!” he motioned towards the blueberry bread with a white gloved hand. you had to stifle your laugh at it.

“well? go on and try it!” you smiled at him and grabbed the knife from the wrapped silverware he had given you. you cut a slice of blueberry bread off the loaf and sat it on the awaiting plate next to it. grabbing your fork, you waved it in the air with a giggle and then used it to grab a piece of the bread. you ate the piece and thought for a moment as you swallowed it.

“wow!” you said as you grabbed another piece, “this is delicious!” soobin smirked smugly and raised his hands. “what can i say? i’m actually gordon ramsey.” you choked a little on the bread as you erupted into laughter. “sure…” you trailed playfully.

it’s been a little over a month since you’ve started working at nap of a star bakery, and it has been the best job you’ve ever had thus far. the little competition between you and soobin had turned from small battles to a full blown war. the two of you were baking so much to garner extra points that the bakery had a bunch of overstock and mrs. choi had to tell you both to slow down.

in that time, you and soobin have grown closer than ever. “i’m starting to feel replaced,” sunoo had said to you the other day, after telling him how soobin cheated to win that week. the competition had gotten so serious between the two of you that you were now competing to see who was the better baker. you even brought sunoo to the bakery a couple of times to be the judge.

you and soobin were once again frantically running around the kitchen, this time fighting over who gets to bake the wedding cake a customer ordered. you held a large plastic tray in your hands, running over to the ingredients table when your foot caught on a bag of flour and you and the plastic tray suddenly went flying. hands quickly caught your waist and steadied you before any real damage could happen. the tray made a loud noise as it landed on the ground, startling you more.

you breathed heavily in shock as you turned to look at soobin, your eyes wide. “woah,” you said. you both broke out into laughter. “jesus, y/n, you almost just saw the light.” soobin’s hands were still on your waist as you turned to face him fully. “thankfully you were here!”

soobin removed his hands and your waist felt cold without them. “maybe we should just work together on this one…” he trailed as he looked around the mess of the kitchen. “i mean, this is someone’s wedding cake after all.” you nodded in agreement, chuckling a little. he smiled warmly at you.

reaching up to his face, you giggled, “you have flour on your nose.” you purposely wiped flour on him and he scrunched his nose a little, a small grin on his lips. soobin takes his flour covered hands and wipes them across your cheeks. “you have flour on your cheeks,” he says. you raise your eyebrows as you look at him.

the two of you are laughing softly as you stare at each other. you dip your hands into the flour sitting on the table and cup both of soobin’s cheeks with your hands. this is a side game you and soobin have started recently, going up to each other with flour and saying that the other has flour on them. it makes even more of a mess, and mrs. choi is always surprised to see you when you go back to the front of the bakery, but it’s fun.

you’ve been secretly drawing hearts with flour on him and giggling at his confused stare when you wouldn’t tell him what you drew. it was always in a place he couldn’t see or reach.

“can you guess what i’m about to say?” you ask him. you feel his cheeks lift into a smile and see his dimples pop out. he starts laughing, “you have flour on your cheeks?” giggling at him, you squeeze his face a little.

“you have flour on your cheeks.”

you’re mere inches away from each other. somehow, soobin’s hands have found their way back to your waist and you’re both giggling as you stare into each other’s eyes. once the giggles subside and nothing but smiles are left, you notice an emotion you can’t figure out swirl in soobin’s eyes.

your heart is beating rapidly in your chest as you realize your sudden closeness and you watch as soobin’s eyes briefly flicker down to your lips. inhaling, you decide to just go for it and act on your emotions. you bring your lips to soobin’s, pressing them together softly. his hands tighten slightly at your waist as he kisses you back.

the kiss is slow and intimate. for a while now you’ve been crushing on him, ever since the day he made you that blueberry bread as a prize. sunoo has teased you mercilessly about it, calling himself cupid even though he had no hand in your blossoming feelings. the times when you brought him to the bakery to judge, he would drop not so subtle hints about your crush. you had to always give him a harsh glare over soobin’s shoulder.

your arms wrapped around soobin’s neck, pulling him closer to you as the kiss deepened. your bodies were pressed up against each other. pulling away from the kiss slightly, you tried to breathe. your breath lightly fanned his cheek, lifting some of the flour off of it. soobin leaned towards you and kissed you passionately, his arms wrapping tighter around your waist.

when you broke apart, you both were breathing heavily, lips plumped at the sudden exchange. you smiled a little, “i’ve been waiting for you to do that.” soobin chuckled. “i’m sorry i didn’t do it sooner.” you both leaned in for another kiss but jumped apart when you heard the door to the front open.

mrs. choi took one good look at the two of you and shook her head in amusement. “how the two of you always manage to get covered in so much flour always amuses me!” she held up two small pieces of paper. “more orders! business is booming!” she laughed and the two of you awkwardly joined her. once she left, you and soobin looked at each other and started to laugh. you were absolutely covered in flour, mrs. choi was right. soobin nodded his head over to the abandoned dough you had started and the two of you began working on the wedding cake again. this time, together.

it was after hours at the bakery and you and soobin had your friends sitting at one of the tables at the front of the bakery so they could be the judges of who’s baked goods were better. you had met each other’s friends a couple times now through various judging events, so when you asked them to judge the final round to put it all to rest, they accepted.

today, you were going to find out just how much of a better baker you are than soobin. and you are gonna laugh in his face when everyone says how good your baked goods are. currently, you and soobin were in the back preparing your dishes. you had decided on a french profiterole cake while soobin had decided on a gâteau basque cake. you knew your cake was delicious, you had been practicing ever since you and soobin decided that you should have one last round to see who the greatest baker was.

soobin held a small plate out with a small slice of the cake he had made for the challenge out to you. you raised your eyebrows in shock and smiled up to him. “you trying to boost your ego before the judgment?” you asked as you took the fork from him and took a bite of the cake. your eyes widen at the flavor. “this is amazing, soobin! oh my god!” maybe you weren’t gonna win this after all…

soobin smiled warmly at you as he held up a small, rolled up piece of paper. you sat the plate down on the nearby table and took it from him, unrolling it. “be mine?” he asked, right as your eyes trailed over the same words on the paper. a smile broke out on your face and you stared up at him. he held another small plate on it, a small cake flower in the center. you giggled as you took the plate from him. “of course i’ll be yours!”

you sat the plate with the flower next to the plate with the slice of cake as you wrapped your arms around soobin’s neck, pulling him down into a kiss. he laughed softly against your lips and pulled you close.

“hello?” you heard a voice drag out from the front of the bakery. “when are we going to get to judge? i didn’t come here hungry for nothing!” you heard muffled voices and then a “shh! shut up beomgyu! what if they’re getting busy? you know how badly he needs that.”

giggling, you pulled away from soobin, giggling harder at his flushed cheeks. you held his hand and looked longingly at him. “you ready?” you asked. soobin nodded, then smirked a little. “you ready to get told you’re the second best baker?”

you rolled your eyes at him playfully, letting go of his hand so that you can grab your cake. the two of you brought your cakes out to the front and your friends erupted into claps. “finally!” soobin’s friend beomgyu had said. his arm got playfully hit by the guy next to him, who you’ve come to know as yeonjun.

“i love you, y/n, but if your cake tastes like shit i’m spitting it out and looking at you with the upmost betrayal. don’t embarrass me here after i’ve been talking you up!” sunoo teased as you and soobin sat your cakes down in front of them. you laughed at him, holding a hand to your chest in mock hurt.

there were already empty plates and silverware placed in front of all of your friends. “alright!” you started. “welcome to the great bake off! yes, the great british bake off was copyrighted… but that’s okay!” laughter sounded around you as you clapped your hands together. you looked over at soobin, “do you wanna go first or do you want me to go first?”

soobin shrugged. “i’ll go first.” he cut slices of his cake and put them each on your friends’ empty plates. “alright, you already know how the judging works. each judge will take a bite from the food and we’ll go down a line one by one for statements. dig in!” soobin spoke. your friends did just that, murmurs of how good the cake was coming from them.

“alright, kai, you’re up!” kai hummed and put a finger to his chin as he thought. “it was absolutely disgusting,” he said as he took another bite. “seriously soobin, what is wrong with you?” kai kept eating the cake as you all laughed.

taehyun nodded in approval, praising soobin for how good of a job he did with the cake. yeonjun stood from the table, did a cartwheel, and sat back down before calmly saying that it was delicious. you and sunoo stared at him with wide eyes as you saw the regret and slight embarrassment form on his heated face. beomgyu hummed, dramatically putting a finger to his lips and tapping as he kept taking more bites. he hummed again.

soobin walked up to him and grabbed him around the collarbones, shaking him slightly as everyone laughed. “it’s really good!” beomgyu said as he sat his fork down, plate empty. yeonjun shook his head at him. sunoo then cleared his throat, sitting up straight. “it was very delicious, but not as good as y/n’s cake!” he said. you laughed, “you haven't even tasted mine yet!” sunoo shot you a glare with wide eyes as he shushed you.

you cut up slices of your cake for the judges, putting one on each of their plates. they barely took a bite of your cake before they all jumped up from their seats and started loudly clapping. dramatically saying how wonderful your cake is and how their taste buds have never graced such perfection. you couldn’t help the laugh that spilled from your mouth at them.

“fantastic! you are truly are the best baker that ever lived!” taehyun exclaimed, clapping hard. “truly, truly. i mean, this cake is godly! higher than that even!” sunoo added as he dramatically took another bite and melted back down into his chair. you shook your head at them.

you looked over to soobin, pouting. he laughed softly at your acceptance of defeat. his cake was absolutely amazing…

soobin came over to you, wrapping an arm around you and pulling you close. you looked at him as he smiled down at you. playfully, you rolled your eyes and crossed your arms. soobin placed a kiss on the top of your head, leaning his head against yours as you both watched the dramatic appraisal from both of your friends.

taglist: @jjunberry @gothgyuu @spooksh0wbabe @beargyuuzz @kittyhyuka

masterlist┊part two┊request rules ༘ ˚· ౨ৎ ฅ/ᐠ. ̫ .ᐟ\ฅ

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moonstruckme · 2 months

Note

i recently started following you and i absolutely love your writing! you have such great talent!

no pressure at all and feel free to scream at me if this is out of your boundaries (i read ur guidelines so it shouldn’t be but you never know). I’m curious if you could write reader with literally anyone, just in denial that they like them. like she used to go out with really shifty guys and is just appalled that this person actually likes them

(this definitely isn’t self-indulgent at all….)

Thanks for requesting baby! (I would never scream at you lmao) I did this with dealer Eddie, hope that's alright :)

cw: weed, mention of transactional sex

dealer!Eddie Munson x fem!reader ♡ 1.5k words

Eddie’s grinning big when he opens the door to his trailer. He takes off his headphones, hanging them around his neck. You can hear Black Sabbath still playing from the speakers.

“Hey.” His voice has a slightly raspy quality to it, and you wonder if he’s been singing or smoking. “You lookin’ for a fix, pretty?”

You grasp the strap of your bag self-consciously, forcing a bouncy “yep” past your lips. Eddie’s got a way of saying things that makes you feel awkward and flighty, like your heart might lurch right out of your ribcage at any moment. It should be routine by now, but you’ll probably never get over it.

Eddie only nods and opens the door further, inviting you in. He sets a hand on your back as you go by, and you try not to look as shy as the touch makes you feel.

“Same as usual?”

“Yeah, thanks.” You lean against the counter while he crosses the room to the drawer where he keeps his stash.

You’ve been coming to Eddie for years now. You weren’t exactly friends in high school but you were always friendly, and every time you leave his place you’re freshly shocked by the realization that you actually really like him. You appreciate that he keeps it business. Well, as business as anything can be with Eddie. Flirting is just part of the package, but he doesn’t try to smoke your stuff after he sells it to you and doesn’t seem to expect anything other than money in return. Shitty as it sounds, a dealer like that can be hard to come by in your experience.

“I’ve been missing you, sweet thing,” he says, taking out a big zip lock bag of bud and a smaller one to portion yours into. “Thought you might’ve found someone else to keep you happy.”

You don’t respond for a second, and Eddie’s head tilts up from where he’s picking through the bag, eyebrows going up in intrigue.

“I was seeing this guy for awhile,” you say, looking sideways out the window. “He got pre-rolls from someone else, and he’d let me have them sometimes.”

“Well shit, I can roll for you if it’ll keep you coming over.”

You look at Eddie in surprise. He grins at you, jutting his chin towards the couch.

“Sit down, I’ll get you set up.”

“You don’t have to do that,” you say.

“Gotta keep my favorite customer happy, don’t I?” You don’t move, and his smile softens into something more genuine. “It’s no problem, just sit down. Tell me about this guy. Does he treat you right?”

You follow directions, going to sit on the less saggy and dingy-looking of the couch cushions while Eddie bends over the counter across from you. “Not really,” you say indifferently. As if thinking about it doesn’t send a dull ache blooming through your middle. “We aren’t together anymore.”

Eddie glances up at you, something odd flitting across his expression. “That sucks,” he says bluntly. “I’m sorry. I mean, it sounds like he sucked, so I guess I’m not sorry that it’s over even if I’m sorry that you’re sad. Are you sad?”

A little laugh startles out of you. “Not really,” you say, and it’s halfway to honest. You’d been sad to break up with him, but Eddie is right; he sucked. You’re not really sad it’s over either.

“Good.” He nods, appeased. “Thought I’d have to go beat someone up or something.”

You snort, and Eddie’s mouth drops open in offense. He looks back down at the roll, sticking his tongue in his cheek as he shakes his head.

“Feels like you’re not taking my threat of vengeance super seriously.”

“No, I am,” you laugh. “I am, it’s just—you don’t seem like someone who wins a ton of fights.”

“Ah!” He clutches a fist over his heart, looking at you in absolute betrayal. “So little faith! I’ve fought worse monsters than your jilted beaux, okay?”

You roll your eyes. “I’m guessing it’s a little different in real life than in your game.”

Eddie pauses for a half a second, and you wonder if you’ve gone too far in your teasing, but then he bends back over the table, bringing the paper to his mouth. “Right.” He runs his tongue quickly across the roll. “Well, anyway, I have a spear in my garage if you want me to give it a try.”

You smile at the thought of Eddie jabbing his (in your imagination, plastic and nerdy) spear at your most recent ex.

“Thanks, but I think I’m good,” you say.

He shrugs. “Your loss. I’d have taken off my shirt for the battle, but I guess you’ll have to get that show another time.”

You laugh, crossing your legs as he starts on another roll. “Hey, you don’t actually have to roll all this,” you say. “I won’t stop coming to you.”

“I don’t mind it,” he replies, packing the next with easy, practiced movements. “Unless you’re in a rush or something. Do you have to go?”

“No, I’m…I’m good.” You’ve never spent this long at Eddie’s place before. It’s usually that you show up, he gives you a bag, you pay, and you leave. You’ve never taken much time to survey the trailer, the way Eddie moves around the cramped furniture with such ease or the way the windows let in just enough light to make his skin look softer and his eyes browner. “You can leave half of it, though, if that’s okay. I’ve still got a bowl at home.”

“Whatever you want.” He keeps his focus downward, ringed fingers moving carefully. “You know, I’ve actually kind of missed having you come around.”

“You said that already.” You tuck a piece of hair behind your ear, smiling even though he’s not looking. “I told you I’ll keep coming back, Eddie, you don’t have to butter me up.”

His gaze flicks to you, eyebrows rising on his forehead. “I’m not,” he says.

Something about his tone has the hairs raising on the back of your neck. You keep intentionally still as a slight chill goes through you.

“I like hanging out with you.” He shrugs, looking back at his roll. “Would you want to hang out again soon?”

You hesitate. “I…don’t think I’ll be needing any more for a bit.”

“Well, ideally you wouldn’t be here to buy.”

For a second, you’re confused, and then realization and dread collide in your gut with enough force to make you nauseous. The disappointment is more potent than either of them.

“Oh.” Maybe Eddie isn’t so different from the other dealers you’ve had after all. “Um, I just feel like I’ve always paid in cash…”

Eddie’s eyebrows furrow, and then his entire face contorts. “Christ—no.” He drops the finished roll, holding up his palms as if to ward you off. “Not that! Ew—I mean—” His hands go to his head. “—not ew, like you’re not ew, I just—gah.” He drops his head back, and his fingers disappear into his hair, making fists. He looks almost pained. “I like you. Like, I’m not trying to have sex with you right now. Not that sex wouldn’t be cool—we could if you wanted to—but that’s not what I’m getting at.”

He blows out a big breath, hands dropping to his knees, and looks you in the eye.

“Can we just forget about the weed for a second?” he asks, sounding nearly desperate. “I’m trying to ask you on a date. Not to get you to fuck me for drugs.” Your mouth drops open, but Eddie keeps going. “And if you don’t want to go out, that’s totally cool. Very respectable, honestly. It doesn’t have to affect anything.” He presses his lips together. “I didn’t mean to say you were ew. I’m sorry.”

You’re too shell-shocked to even laugh. You have whiplash. But now he’s looking at you with his big eyes all expectant, and you feel like you have to say something.

“A date?” you ask.

“Uh, yeah.” He leans against the counter, looking a bit awkward but somehow all the more endearing for it. “Like, to the arcade or maybe dairy queen or something—I don’t know, you can pick.”

“And you…don’t want to have sex.”

“I don’t not want to have sex,” he clarifies. “But, uh, we don’t have to at all. Like, only if you want to, and definitely not if you think it’s some sort of…” Eddie winces “...transaction.”

You nod slowly, and now there’s a smile tugging persistently at your lips. “That sounds good,” you say. “The date part.”

“Yeah?” His head picks up. “Really?”

You smile. “Yeah. Are you sure?”

“Am I sure?” Eddie guffaws. “Yeah, I’m pretty fucking sure. I’m getting a much better deal here. But no take-backs,” he says quickly, and his grin widens when you laugh. “Are you free tomorrow?”

“Um, yeah.” You think for a second, nodding. “Yeah, I’ve got nothing tomorrow.”

“Great.” Eddie presses his lips together like he’s trying to contain the full scope of his smile. He pushes his fingers into the countertop. “Okay, forget everything from today. I’m gonna be such a fucking gentleman when I pick you up tomorrow, you probably won’t even recognize me.”

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oceanlix · 4 months

Text

Day 3: Jaehyun

Pairing: Jaehyun x female reader

Genre: Smut

Word count: 1544

Warnings: Praise, begging, teasing, fingering, unprotected sex, riding, dirty talk, slight spanking, nipple play, creampie, overstimulation

Smutmas 2023 Masterlist

“Ma’am, I’m so sorry about the inconvenience. For your trouble, the airline would like to offer you a hotel voucher as well as compensation.”

You’re only half listening to the man, stars in your eyes as you watch his lips move. He should be a model, certainly not a customer service representative in a shitty airport like this one. It’s not like the other reps are ugly, either. He’s just so stupidly handsome that it’s almost ridiculous.

“Ma’am?”

You shake yourself out of your daze and apologize. “Oh god, I’m sorry. It’s been a long day! Thank you, I’ll accept the vouchers!”

The man - Jaehyun, according to his name tag clipped to his sweater vest - smirks, almost like he knows exactly what was on your mind just now. “Sure, it’s understandable. Let me just get your information and I’ll issue those for you.”

You pour all your focus into filling out the documentation, determined not to embarrass yourself any further. When you finish, you slide the paperwork across the counter to him.

Jaehyun starts to key in the necessary information, occasionally glancing over at you with a smile. “I’m going to put you up at the Hyatt, it’s the nicest hotel nearby,” he informs you, winking. The keyboard clacks away for a few more moments before he crooks his finger at you. You lean forward, wondering if you misspelled something on your forms.

“Maybe I can pay you a visit tonight after my shift ends?” he whispers, dragging his eyes up and down your body. You practically choke on your own spit, shocked that such a handsome man is so blatantly hitting on you. You aren’t one to look a gift horse in the mouth though, despite how unprofessional he’s being at the moment. Apparently hot men negate all of your survival instincts; you should be more ashamed of yourself. But you aren’t, unfortunately.

You giggle nervously, while Jaehyun smirks to himself like he knows he’s already won.

—-

You’re sitting in your hotel room on the bed, dressed only in your robe and underwear as you wait for Jaehyun. You debate with yourself for a while about it being too presumptuous to be this underdressed, but he was practically devouring you with his eyes at the airport. You decide that you feel pretty safe in assuming his intent.

There’s a knock on the door that alerts you to his arrival, so you pop off the bed and nervously fiddle with your hands before going to answer. A look through the peephole reveals Jaehyun, holding a bottle of champagne and changed out of his uniform into a sleek button down shirt and slacks. Your mouth waters a little as you pull the door open.

“Hey,” he greets, leaning down to kiss your cheek. Your heart is a stuttering mess as you invite him in, your skin tingling where his lips touched. “I brought champagne.”

He sets the bottle on the counter and turns to face you, once again letting his eyes take in your body. The robe is short, stopping just at the tops of your thighs, and his eyes linger there for a moment before he smirks at you.

“You look pretty comfortable there,” he teases, closing the distance between you. He’s gentle when he cradles your face in his hands, searching for any signs of hesitation. But you have none, and when he presses his lips to yours, the sigh you let out is soft and airy.

Jaehyun walks you over to the bed as he kisses you, his hands sliding down your body. He squeezes your ass and trails his lips down the side of your neck, groaning at the way you feel in his hands. “You’re beautiful,” he whispers, toying with the hem of your robe. “Do you even know how sexy you are?”

He tugs on the belt of your robe until it comes undone, partially revealing the fancy underwear you’d dug up out of your suitcase to put on for him. With another pleased groan, he pushes you gently down onto the bed, climbing on top of you.

“I see you dressed all pretty just for me,” he coos, tracing his fingers down from your neck to right above the waistband of your underwear. You moan, throwing an arm over your eyes in embarrassment.

Jaehyun pulls your thighs apart and runs his hands up and down your thighs, getting close but not close enough to the place where you need him to touch you. You’re sure he’s noticed the wet spot on your panties by now, but he’s only teasing you, squeezing the flesh of your thighs and ass without any intent behind it.

“Please,” you whimper after a few minutes of his torture, impossibly wet and worked up. You never thought you’d be reduced to begging for a man’s cock like this, but here you are. “Jaehyun, touch me properly.”

He lets out a little scoff, slapping your thigh. “Properly? What, this isn’t enough for you?” He drags his fingers over your clothed pussy, feather light and so frustratingly slow. “You’re a mess, you know that, right?”

Embarrassingly, you feel your cheeks turn red at his words. “Only because you’re teasing me,” you argue petulantly. Your breath hitches when he suddenly pulls one of your legs up onto his shoulder, the other pulling your panties to the side.

“Fine, fine,” he relents, smirking. Jaehyun rubs two fingers between your folds, gathering your wetness and spreading it around. You bite down on your bottom lip when he sinks them into you, your hips lifting up automatically.

“How’s that?” he coos, laughing as you struggle to get more friction. But with the way he has your leg propped up, you just can’t make it happen. You groan in frustration, whimpering as he pumps his fingers in and out of your pussy.

“Jaehyun,” you pant, grabbing his wrist. “At least kiss me!”

He softens, leaning down to press your lips together. He licks into your mouth while he works his fingers inside of you, swallowing every moan you try to let out. You feel your orgasm approaching, your hands frantically scrambling to hold onto him.

It doesn’t take more than a few pumps before you’re clenching around his fingers, your vision whiting out. Jaehyun guides you through it with whispered praises against your lips, fighting to hide his smile.

He pulls his fingers from your pussy and gives you a devilish grin before he puts them in his mouth, licking your juices off of them. You just about come again from the sight, letting out a soft squeal as you cover your eyes.

Jaehyun grabs your hips and rolls you over on top of him, holding you above his cock as he smirks up at you. “Can you ride it?” he asks, but it sounds more like a challenge than a request. You don’t want to disappoint him, so you nod. You grab the base of his cock and line him up with your entrance, coating the head with your wetness before sinking down.

“Fuck, you’re so tight,” he murmurs, watching as he disappears inside of you. You place your hands on his chest and take a few deep breaths as you adjust to his size, feeling fuller than you’ve ever felt before.

Jaehyun reaches up and pushes your robe down your arms, sort of trapping you. You could always move your arms and take it off completely, but the idea of having your movement restricted is hot enough that you don’t.

“That’s it,” he coos up at you, pressing his fingertips to your clit and rubbing light circles on it. “Show me how bad you want it, baby.”

You groan, lifting yourself up and dropping back down onto his cock. You barely catch the scream coming out of your throat, the head grazing that spot inside you.

“Feels so good,” you slur, digging your nails into his chest. Jaehyun hisses, landing a slap on your ass In retaliation. “Fuck, right there!”

“You really just needed to get fucked, huh?” he murmurs into your ear, holding your hips down as he grinds up into you. “Look at you, so pretty and pliant for me. Like putty in my hands, yeah?” He nips at your jawline, putting more pressure on your clit. “Come on, cream around my cock, sweet thing.”

You’re losing the battle against your orgasm, your chest heaving as you try to keep your grinding rhythmic. Jaehyun reaches up and pinches one of your nipples, sending you over the edge in surprise. You shake through your high, hips jerking away from his fingers as he rubs you through it.

Jaehyun squeezes your ass with both hands as you come down, keeping you close to him as you grind in his lap. “I’m filling you up, honey,” he coos, grabbing your jaw and pulling you into a sloppy, messy kiss. True to his word, a few seconds later you feel his hot seed hitting your walls, your pussy fluttering around him with every pulse. He kisses you through the whole thing, swallowing your moans and overstimulated whimpers.

When he’s done, you collapse against his chest in a tired mess. He pulls out of you with a hiss, petting your head gently.

#nct smut #jaehyun smut #nct 127 smut #jaehyun x reader #jaehyun fic #smutmas 2023 #my fics #not sponsored by hyatt y'all lmao #300

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gators-aid · 4 months

Text

decode (pt. 2) - toji f. x reader

previously titled: leave us

masterlist.

part one. | part three.

you and toji fushiguro have been in an on-again-off-again relationship all throughout high school. over the summer break after graduation, you find out you're pregnant. too bad toji has already skipped town after your last breakup.

tags: fem!reader, gun violence, harassment, physical violence, mention of domestic abuse (not between toji & reader), teen pregnancy (reader and toji are both 18-19 range), mentions of abortion, mentioned that toji sold drugs, americanized setting, non sorcerer universe, 00's setting, reader is megumi's mom, toji initially denies megumi is his, i aged up gojo, geto, and shoko so you can have some frens, exes to lovers (eventually), their relationship is toxic rn, not beta read we die like toji :(

wc: 2.7k

4 years later..

You pull Megumi’s hat over his ears to protect them from the cold and squeeze his body closer in your arms. “My mom can’t watch him today, she’s got a doctor's appointment. Shoko and Geto are working right now, too! I promise he won’t cause any trouble. He can sit in a booth while I’m working. Pleeeease, Nanami! You know he’s a good kid!” You beg your boss. He looks down at you and your son, contemplating which rules this would violate.

It’s Gojo who comes to your defense.

“Come on Nanamiiii, I can help her keep an eye on him! You won’t have any problems, my Megumi is the sweetest little thing, aren’t you baby? Aren’t you?” He leans over to squeeze Megumi’s cheek until Megumi turns his head into your chest to escape Gojo’s teasing.

Gojo had taken up working at the diner with you after he dropped out of college on account of, “My family has enough money for me to never have to work again. Why would I waste it in college when I can spend my youth working a minimum wage job for fun?”

You and Shoko had punched him in the face for that one.

“Any disruptions to the customers and you’ll have to figure something else out, Y/N. This is a one time thing. Gojo, don’t let the kid be a distraction to you. You need to stop forgetting you have tables all the time.” You smile and give Gojo a victory high five. “Are you excited to spend the day with mama, Megumi?”

Megumi had turned four a couple of weeks ago. You two now lived in your own modest apartment. It was close to your mother’s house and your job. Usually your mother would keep Megumi for you during work hours, and when that wasn’t available Gojo, Geto, or Shoko would help you out. With all four contenders busy, there was no choice but for you to bring Megumi with you to work. Babysitters and daycare were out of the question on your salary of shitty tips. You could barely afford the apartment. The only way you could get furniture into it was on a loan from Gojo (which he refused to let you pay back).

You, Nanami and Gojo walk into the back of the building through the kitchen to punch in. “Our little Megumi’s gonna be joining us today!” Gojo announces to the kitchen staff, mainly comprised of high school students and Hakari. You hear various coos as you walk Megumi through the kitchen. “Can you say ‘hi,’ baby?” You whisper to Megumi through his knitted hat.

He pulls his face from the interior of your sweater and meekly waves to the staff, who all burst into bright smiles. There had been a few times your mother had brought Gumi to the diner to see you during hours, meaning the staff had not only heard of, but had seen Megumi around quite a bit.

Megumi, unlike his father, was incredibly shy and quiet even for his young age. He was one of the best babies you could ever ask for. He cried of course, even had a nasty case of colic when he was little, but on average he cried far less than a normal kid. For a while you were concerned, bringing him to every doctor your insurance would allow to get second opinion after second opinion. Their conclusion? It’s just his personality.

"It seems like he cried all his tears out during his first couple of weeks!" One doctor had joked. Yeah, so had you.

Every time you looked at Megumi, you saw Toji. Their resemblance was undeniable. Sometimes it felt as if he hadn’t inherited a single genetic trait from you. Some days, it made you more sad than others. You hadn’t seen any baby pictures of Toji, didn’t think his family even owned any, but if you had to guess, Megumi had to be the spitting image. You’d see old classmates you hadn’t talked to in years only for them to comment on how much they resembled each other. Not knowing about you and Toji's dramatic breakup.

You and Gojo punch in and take off your coats to hang them up on the rack. Yuki, one of your newer coworkers, bursts through the door with a few empty water glasses. “Agh, thank god you two are here!” She exclaims, setting them down by the sink. “I’ve got this table of guys that are driving me batshit. The kitchen guys don’t get it. I need a freakin’ break.”

You giggle at her and take off Megumi’s hat from where you’re holding him on your hip. “I can take the next one!” You hang up Megumi’s hat next to your coat. “Just let me get him situated.” Yuki gasps and runs over to you. “Hi Megumi! I’ve heard so much about you! It’s nice to meet you, I’m Yuki! Oh my god, Y/N he’s so freakin’ cute!” She exclaims.

Gojo and Yuki get to talking shit about her table while you walk out onto the floor to choose a booth for Megumi to sit. You choose the one furthest from the door and closest to the kitchen and set him down on a side where you’ll be able to see him clearly for the majority of your shift. “Okay Gumi, I’m gonna be working but I’m gonna come over and check on you a lot too, okay?” You set your bag next to him and pull out a few toys and a coloring book. “I’ll get the kitchen guys to sneak you some food, okay?” He nods and grabs a blue crayon from his half empty box. “Okay, mama.” He replies in the sweetest voice you've ever heard.

You give him a kiss on his forehead and move a piece of his hair behind his ear before moving to the other side of the booth and adjusting your waist apron. “Y/N, you got table three.” Yuki announced. You looked behind you to see Gojo and Yuki approaching Megumi’s table. “Megumiiiii! What are you coloring?” Gojo slid into the seat next to Megumi and his toys.

“How many?” You asked Yuki. “Just two.” She responded, “The one guy’s hot, maybe you could get laid tonight.” You scoffed. “First of all, don’t say shit like that on the floor when we have customers who may hear you.” You give her a pointed look, “secondly, you’re too young to be talking about intercourse. You’re like twelve.” You smile at her and turn around to go greet your table.

“I’m literally 18!” Yuki exclaims as you walk away.

“Exactly the point!” Gojo responds for you.

You pull out your server book as you approach your table and click your pen. “Hi, I’m Y/N, welcome to-” when you look up, you freeze.

First, you see Jinichi, Toji’s brother. When your eyes move over to the other side of the booth, you see him in the flesh for the first time in five years.

He’s looking down at the table, so you can’t see his face, but from his build alone you can see he’s almost doubled in muscle mass since you last saw him. His hair is longer, bangs falling over his eyes, and he sports a black muscle tee to show off how much he has bulked up over the years. He's intentionally avoiding your gaze.

All the feelings you’ve felt over these five years, anger, rage, resentment, loss, pain, sadness. They all come rushing back at once. Five years of wondering what he was up to while you stayed up with Megumi as a newborn when he had colic and wouldn’t stop crying for almost a month straight. As you operated on auto pilot and almost cried when you saw him smile again. As you cared for him through his first flu, which you had eventually caught too. Rushing him to the hospital for a slight rise in temperature as your mother convinced you over the phone that everything would be okay and you sobbed hysterically. When Megumi took his first steps, when he said his first word. You always thought of Toji.

How would he have reacted? You may not have trusted him, but you don’t think he’d be a particularly bad father if he were to put in the effort. Every time Megumi smiles, every time he frowns, it looks like Toji has walked right back into your life. When you two talked about kids, it was never very serious. You always talked about the idyllic. How many you’d have, what their names would be, if you’d move out to the countryside so they’d have space to play. You never discussed how you wanted to raise them, how you two would afford it, if Toji would stop dealing.

“Well, well, fucking well!” Jinichi starts. “This is just fucking hilarious!” You can see Toji tense up where his elbows rest on the table. Jinichi leaned back in his seat looking back and forth between you and Toji. “High school fucking sweethearts! Look at this shit, Toji, that's your girl right there! Hey Y/N-” Before Jinichi can finish his sentence, Toji bangs his hands on the table, making the condiment bottles rattle loudly, and bringing the entire restaurant's attention towards the three of you. Toji mumbles something under his breath that you can’t pick up. You’re still physically frozen in place.

Jinichi had always been an asshole. Toji didn’t like you to go over to his house for multiple reasons relating to his family, but one of the major ones was because of his brother. Jinichi always had a smart mouth. Liked to put dumb ideas in Toji’s head, one of which was the one that eventually got him shot and bleeding out on your bedsheets.

“Ahh, come on little brother. You’re so intense nowadays. We’re here for a good ol-”

“We’re here for fucking business, Jinichi. Shut the fuck up. We don’t want nothin’.” Toji says, finally addressing you without even looking your way. You feel someone grab onto your shoulder and quickly turn to see Gojo. He gently pulls you away from the table.

“I- I didn’t-” you begin, before Gojo can even get you five feet from the table, Jinichi is back at it. “Hey, what the hell, don’t take my waitress! I ain’t ordered nothin’ yet! Hey Y/N, you look good by the way! Usually girls get ugly after they have babies!”

It’s so sudden and quick that if you weren’t five steps away, you wouldn’t have seen it at all. Toji leans over the table, somehow calmly and aggressively at the same time, to grab his brother by the collar of his shirt. “That’s enough. Don’t make me fucking tell you again.” He says, his tone quiet and deadly.

All you can think about is Megumi, where the fuck is Megumi? He’s your priority right now. Your head whips toward Megumi’s table, where you see Yuki with her hand on Megumi’s shoulder as he watches you intensely.

“Fuck. Gumi.” You whisper to yourself.

You pull away from Gojo’s grasp to race toward your son. “Mama..” he whispers as you reach him and pull him tightly into a hug. “It’s okay honey. Don’t worry about it.” You firmly grasp the back of his neck to ground yourself. This is exactly why you had said all those things you said to Toji all those years ago. You didn’t want your child growing up in an unstable environment. You didn’t want Toji’s issues to be a cause of stress for yourself or for Megumi. It'd be slightly different if these were two random guys in the diner. Sure, you'd shield Megumi if it got intense, but the fact that one was his father made the hair on the back of your neck stand up at the slightest movement.

“You look sad mama. Did the big men hurt you?” You laugh at his innocence. “No, baby. They didn’t hurt me.” They did hurt you. In a deep emotional way that you didn’t feel like explaining to a four year old right now. “Let's go honey, little kids shouldn’t see this.”

“I’m a little kid, right?” He asks. “Yes, you are.”

“What the hell is going on?” You hear a booming voice come from the kitchen door and see Nanami walking towards Toji’s table. “Nothings going on!” Jinichi yells. “You know how the little brothers are, always got a goddamned inferiority complex goin’ on or somethin’!” Toji still has a grasp on his shirt as Jinichi is yelling at Nanami.

“I’m going to have to ask you two to leave.” Nanami says calmly. “I ain’t fucking leaving. I came here for some fuckin’ service from my brother’s old-” Suddenly, Jinichi’s head is being slammed onto the table, and a collective gasp is aroused from the restauraunt.

“Come, Gumi.” You pick him up in your arms. “Yuki, can you pack his stuff up for me please?” You ask as you contemplate your next move. “Of course, of course.” You can’t head to the front or kitchen door without Gumi potentially seeing more violence. You would have to rush past in the hopes that nothing else happens while you’re moving by. The kitchen door is closer from here, less potential for Megumi to see anything.

“Ok, Gumi. Can you close your eyes for me real quick, baby?” You ask, rubbing his back. “Ok, mama.” You move Megumi so that his face is pressed to your chest and book it toward the kitchen door. You hear more commotion as you pass by, but will yourself not to turn around and check. Gojo and Yuki follow you in from behind with your bag. When you’re in the kitchen, you’re quick to set Megumi on the ground to grab his hat and secure it on his head.

“I’m so sorry, Y/N, I never would’ve given you that table if I knew.” She apologizes as she hands you your bag. You laugh. “It’s not your fault Yuki. By the way, remember what I said about no intercourse? You wanna implement that policy because of fuckers like him-” “Mama!” Megumi chastises. “Sorry, bad word.” Yuki lets out a relieved sigh.

“I didn’t even see them walk in, Y/N-” Gojo starts. “Oh my gosh guys, it's not a big deal! Seriously, I’m just worried about Gumi seeing anything.” Even as you say this, your hands shake as you attempt to zip up Megumi’s coat. Gojo gives you a knowing look and grabs your own coat off the rack for you.

“I just, um, need a little break. I can’t afford to lose out on the money tonight.” You say, grabbing your coat from him and sliding it on. “I’ll cover you-” Gojo starts, but you interrupt. “I’m not taking money from your family, Gojo!” You pick up Megumi and hold him on your hip. “I’m not saying that. I’ll split the tips from tonight with you. My apology for not seeing them before.”

“No, Gojo.”

Nanami walks in the kitchen door. “Take the day off,” he says to you before walking back to his office. “No, Nanami I’m ok I’ll just take him to my mom’s really quick-”

“You’re too shaken up to do anything else today. I’ll schedule you more next week to make up for it.” Nanami supplies. “Thank you.” You say, silently relieved. Was your distress seriously that obvious? You would have to tone it down in front of Gumi.

“Wooow Nanami you’re such a good manager-”

“Can it Gojo, you’re gonna have to pick up the slack tonight.”

You’re already making your way out the back of the building when Gojo responds with a whine.

“Hey what the hells going on out there?” Hakari asks as you walk by. “Some bullshit.” You respond. “Mama!”

You weren’t even in the building for thirty minutes today, but it feels thirty degrees cooler when you walk out. The trek to the bus stop is gonna suck.

It's a ten minute walk from the diner to the bus stop. You cling onto Megumi for warmth, making sure he's buried not only in his own coat, but in yours. When you get to the bus stop, you realize it’s gonna be another fifteen minutes before the bus comes. Megumi isn’t one to complain, but you can feel him shivering under you. “Just a little longer baby.” You soothe him, rapidly rubbing his back and arms in an attempt to warm him.

It must be some sick joke for an old pickup truck to pull right in front of the bus stop and roll its window down.

“Do you need a ride?” Toji asks.

You've gotta be fucking kidding.

part two is up! thanks so much for all the love on the first on! 70 notes is crazy!

pls send requests or questions to me! and also let me know if i missed anything in the tags!

thank you guys !!!

(i'll make a masterlist maybe when pt 3 goes up but im too lazy rnnnnnn)

#toji fushiguro x reader #toji fushiguro #toji x reader #jjk x reader #jujutsu kaisen x reader

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ashersanity · 5 months

Note

I need more Yan Bailey content sir. And Briar... Remy... if you write for them...

Let's say PC is working in the brothel, So what type of yanderes are they? Will they even let anyone see PC in those skimpy outifts?

I wonder how contradictory it will be for Briar... (Bonus: Avery will probably go furios mode because it's dragging his reputation down?)

bailey deserves a post of their own, planning a part 2 for the shitty caretaker. Just for you @mellowwillowy. part 1 is here.

Cmon, you knew what you were doing when you requested for Remy.. Wait, no one knows that im a Remy enthusiast, do they? Fuck. Well, here I go then. - @princesstokyomoon :)

SHADY BASTARDS AS YANDERES

asher is on a roll.

content warning! dub-con/non-con, mostly non-con really, mentions of violence, murder, kidnapping, marking, anal play with a bottle?? if that’s even a thing, possessive and abusive behaviour, you know the drill already.

pc and the bastards are gender neutral as always unless explicitly stated otherwise.

Briar

“Pretty little thing you are, aren’t you? Come to my office, baby. Let’s get you all cleaned up for the show.”

yandere type : sadistic, possessive, manipulative

Somehow always has you sticking by their side whenever you’re not on stage, which they make sure to limit of quite a bit, not wanting their precious little thing wandering off without their watching eyes. It becomes increasingly clear to the other employees that you’re Briar’s favorite, whispering among each other, referring to you as the boss’s bitch, not that it’s all that far off. Oh? Bailey wants you back at the orphanage to pay your dues? Don’t worry, Briar will take care of that. They’d like to talk business with the caretaker anyway, namely about your price. Name it, they’re willing to pay anything for you.

Drastically increases the costs of your shows despite not wanting you to perform. You may be theirs completely, but Briar cannot abandon their principles over cash since money is money for the brothel owner after all. Wants everyone to know that you’re not just some cheap whore. No, you’re fucking Briar’s whore, the one they call in whenever they’re feeling bored, slender finger idly tapping against the cushioned arm of their couch, outstretched arm ready to take in you for another one of your daily sessions. Aren’t you obedient too? Wearing the preferred outfit that they like to see you in. What a doll.

Addicted to having you on their lap, comfortably seated on the brothel owner’s spread thighs, smooth hand resting on your hips while the other is holding a bottle of wine. Of course, considering how they’re a sadistic bastard, doesn’t only involves sweet nothings whispered into the shell of your ear or soothing rubs over your back. You’ll never forget that one time, how they pressed the rim of the bottle against your tight entrance, eyes going wide once you realize what they plan on doing. Smallest of smirks forming on Briar’s usually calm face, throughly enjoying the cute whines that come out of you as they thrust the neck of the glass bottle into your used hole, wine sloshing inside. A real treat that you are.

Never actually shares you. Sure, those bystanders admiring your dancing form as you perform on stage is still a thing though it doesn’t bother them the same way it does whenever a potential customer is reaching for their pockets, waving their wallet. Forbids you from going to them, instead, Briar, the one who usually never steps onto the platform, now joining on stage with you. Makes it clear to everyone that you’re theirs as their hands trail lower over your waist to your hips, lifting up the fabric of your skimpy leotard, giving the others a ‘quick’ peek of the marks they’ve left onto your skin.

There’s no need to know what happened to that one individual who got a feel of your behind on stage, shamelessly groping the soft flesh in the palm of their hand just as Briar is watching. Might’ve resulted in the other’s bodyguards accosting them right then and there, bringing them over to the basement where the real fun happens. Shove them in the hole with ease, ass sticking out for anyone to use as they please and Briar’s sick grin appearing on their lips as they call you over to them as usual. Better keep your lips sealed tight if you know the full story, missing body who has yet to be found, buried deep in the woods. Briar likes to be thorough in their punishments.

Remy

“Look at that, perfect for breeding and milking. Fuck, you’re going to be my fucking star.”

yandere type : obsessive, possessive, overprotective

Keeps you away from the other cattle in the farm, your own personal pen that Remy built just for you, there to satisfy your every single need. Obviously they couldn’t possibly let you be after that one incident, catching one of their workers’s pesky hands gliding over your precious body, seeing red. You, you poor thing, utterly ignorant as you snoozed away, deep in slumber. The farmer wasn’t having any of it, gave that fucker what they deserved, having cleaned themselves off of that distasteful encounter. No one entirely knows what ever truly happened that day and it’s better not to ask around. Remy will simply shut you up with more gifts, your dumb cow mind too foggy to remember much of it anyway.

Tattooed their name on your asscheek, forever imprinting themselves into your flesh. It was done the minute they saw you, a sort of hunger in their eyes, the need to own you, for everyone else to know it. Affectionately traces a gloved finger over their lettering of their name ‘Remy’s bull’ permanently etched on the reddened skin, giving it a playful slap. It comes in useful in certain situations, the other animals and humans knowing to keep away from you as they get a glimpse of your tattoo, not wanting to face the farmer’s wrath by the risk of touching you.

Absolutely does not want you breeding with another cattle. Yeah, they do sort of feel bad when they isolated you in their barn, left with stacks of hay, a warm blanket over your frame and plenty of other supplies to keep you entertained, but it was for the best. Knowing every creature eventually goes into heat one day and so did you, caught you uselessly humping at one of the cows, mounting them even! If it weren’t for Remy that immediately stopped it, who knows what would’ve happen?? They know.. Yes, they know that you’re suffering from being deprived like this and so they’re happy to help, letting you get a feel of what real breeding is like at night, as they return from a long day of working on the fields.

Favours you, giving you special treatment and well, the entire farm is aware of it. Muttering about how you’re the only one who actually gets Remy to smile, their usual stern face and their lips who are meant to be pressed in a straight-line now curling up at the sight of you. Everyone shooting each other weird looks as you nuzzle against the farmer’s hand, demanding for attention and they don’t push you away. Just what the hell kind of trickery is this?? Turning the owner of the underground farm into mush, Wren constantly teasing the other about it, but they just scoff and play it off. As if you don’t have them wrapped around your finger, stupid cow.

Cherishes every single drop of milk that you produce, wherever it’s made from, your genitals or chest. Either way, they’re squeezing it all out of you, making extra sure not to waste a droplet of it as it drips down in the numerous cylinders. Such a prodigy too, milking the copious amount, thick consistency on the verge of spilling out from the plastic containers. You don’t know it though, how Remy succumbs to temptation, mouth watering from your organic milk, pink tongue dipping down to get a taste of it. How fucking sweet it is, they’ve never tasted anything like it, swallowing it all in one go. Actually never puts your products on the market since all of it is sloppily consumed by Remy, greedily lapping across their upper lip.

Avery

“There you are, darling. Looking sweet as ever. Did I ever tell you how beautiful you are? My prize.”

yandere type : self-indulgent, impulsive, controlling

Is in charge of everything that you wear, make it known to the town that you’re Avery’s first and foremost, gifted clothes or lacy chokers to place around your neck, the one they like to admire with a well manicured finger. Your closet now consisting solely of the expensive items that they’ve bought for you, stuffed away in the tight confines of the narrow space. It’s better to wear the suit or dress that the businessperson got for you, for they always know when you don’t, frown appearing on their face whenever they see you walk to school with that annoying orphan. What’s their goddamn name, Rowin? Robin?? God, they don’t care, pulling up next to you with their limousine, tinted window rolling down to greet you with a serene smile, completely ignoring the other standing next to you. They’re not worth your attention, you are.

Is the one to pick you up everywhere and they mean, everywhere. School ends, approaching the school gates and luckily not encountering Whitney in the process, met with Avery waiting in their car, telling you to get in. If they can’t manage a car, let’s say, for example because they’re away from town, coming to pick you up instead in a helicopter, ignoring the awed looks that attracts from others. If their rage is low, which you better hope it is, they’re giving you the full prince/princess treatment, treating you like deity even. Whatever you want, they’re here to provide. Oh, you want this new bag that everyone else has at school? They’re already sifting through their thick wallet, handing you the green notes with a pleased smirk. Buy it, doll. It’s their treat.

Would never let you work at the brothel, not on their watch. Are you crazy? It’s not entirely a lie as one would say, that Avery does hire a few whores on certain nights, crumpled bills stashed away in their pockets. Not with you though. You’re different, special, even if they never openly say it. They’ve never been ready to admit but the idea of you going there every Friday night, sleazy hands trailing over your naked body, no their body. The thought makes Avery grind their teeth, sick at the mere suggestion of you even possibly working there. Why would you? They’ll give you everything you need, pay twice, three times, ten fucking times more than Briar could ever share with you. Out of pettiness however, they do bring you over, in front of Briar’s own watchful eyes, possessive hands placed onto your hips. Loves glancing over to catch the brothel owner’s scowling face, watching on as you grind on the businessperson’s crotch.

Traps you in their manor, turning you into their little, obedient maid that’ll follow their every word and order, the one to come to them at a snap of their fingers. A servant needs to look presentable too, don’t you think? Forcing you into some fetishy maid outfit, silky, feminine lingerie regardless of gender, barely hiding the flushed skin beneath. Skirt is so short that you have to remind yourself to pull at the hem, fabric riding up your plush thighs and exposing your bare flesh to Avery’s hungry eyes. They’ll be such a bitch about it too, crotchless panties, putting your hole on display for them to leer at whenever you bend down to pick something up or are busy dusting a corner that’s particular hard to reach. Earns you a smack to the ass, Avery whistling to themselves as they walk off with your shocked, humiliated gaze on them.

Marks you in a.. different manner than the others, more sophisticated they’d call it? It’s subtle at first, hickeys and bite marks left on your collarbone, shoulder blades, inner thighs, places that usually wouldn’t be visible to other people, not unless you’re wearing something revealing which they don’t allow in public. Escalates to your neck, wrists, maybe corner of your lips, your huffed complaints bringing a smirk to their face, claiming that you’ll be forced to wear a turtleneck from now on to hide the evidence of those traces left behind. Why hide it though? It’s there to be flaunted, meant for the town to know, darling. Won’t take it kindly if you ever do try to worm your way out of it, theirs to own, their precious doll. Makes it official once they tuck the leather collar around your neck, tightening it with a click. Look at you, so pretty. Avery’s prized blue ribbon bitch.

Masterlist

[END OF POST]

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wri0thesley · 8 months

Text

ruin - mahito x reader (2.8k)

mahito has a little present for you.

cw: not sfw, minors dni. reader is afab and mentions past wearing of a dress, no other gendered terms are used. unhealthy relationship (as is so constant with mahito), dub-con. blood, manipulation of mahito's body parts, biting, fingering. threat of future death (mahito is his own warning, let's be real!).

The strap dangles off of Mahito’s finger, the ruffles and lace and chiffon of the delicate concoction that the curse is holding blowing slightly in the breeze that runs through the sewers at night. His grin is wide enough to make anticipation that might be fear prickle over the back of your neck, and you take a deep breath and swallow as you stare at him and the garment.

“Well?” He asks you, his smile not leaving his mouth, the two colours of his eyes glimmering brightly in the night. “Aren’t you going to say ‘thank you’?”

“I didn’t know if it was for you,” you say to him, truthfully - though you’ve never seen Mahito in anything but his trademark soft trousers and shirt, he’s often tugged at your own laces and your own buttons, been fascinated by the way that garments are constructed, giggled once as he’d slipped his hand beneath the hem of a dress you were wearing to investigate the layers of tulle and organza beneath that gave the skirt shape. He’d followed you through the city once and lingered at the window of a maid cafe, wondering aloud to anyone who could hear (that, again, had just been you) what it would feel like to be one of those maids.

Beholden to the customers who walked in, calling them ‘Master’ and bowing subserviently and pulling cute little poses when asked, drawing hearts in dessert sauce atop of ice cream sundaes--

(Mahito doesn’t need to eat, but he’d snuck a few bites of an ice cream you’d attempted to buy for just yourself, back when you were pretending that he wasn’t following you and you were a totally normal person. Since then, he’s barely shut up about it - a child trying his new favourite food, pouting and whining when you try and say no to his demands. It’s easier to give him. You think it’s going to be easier to give in here, too).

His face falls into a pantomime of disappointment, his mouth pulling almost too wide at the downturned corners.

“You don’t like it?” He asks, with the air of an injured bunny rabbit. “I picked it out especially! The store had all sorts of these fancy underwears, but I looked at them all very very carefully and thought about what would look best on you and checked the size tags in the underwear you’ve left here--”

That’s the underwear that he’s ripped off of you, then. The underwear that’s a lost cause; the ones that you haven’t worn back to your shitty little apartment because they are quite literally unwearable. Mahito acts like you left them here, in his sewer, the way an ordinary couple leave the detritus of their lives in one another’s bedrooms and bathrooms and kitchens.

“It’s really nice of you,” you try and say, swallowing dryly, your eyes flitting nervously between the lingerie and the curse. “It’s just . . .”

He steps forward, his pace deliberate and lazy. You walk a tightrope with Mahito; he tells you you’re his favourite and grins at you and pokes your cheeks and you feel special, yes. You choose to come back to this sewer time and time again, to let yourself be drawn into his cool embrace and to kiss him back when he kisses you and to breathe in the scent of sweet rot and fresh grass that follows him wherever he goes. But sometimes . . .

Sometimes you catch a glimpse of him out of the corner of your eye, when you say something he doesn’t like. A narrowing of his eyes, a twist of his lip. Sometimes he speaks to you in a voice that drips with honey, but seems to hide the edge of a blade in its sharp consonants. Sometimes he laughs when you say something you mean, the tone high and cruel, and you wonder if he’s thinking about placing his hands upon you and shaping you into a thing that can no longer speak or reply or act on its own behalf.

This moment is one of those tightrope moments, you think. Mahito tilts his head to the side and repeats, voice still deceptively slow and soft like wading through molasses.

“You don’t like it, cutie?”

“Of course I do,” tumbles out of your mouth, and Mahito must notice the edge of panic because his eyes crinkle at the corners and he lets out a soft little huff of laughter. He takes another step, and then he’s in front of you - you can hear the water of the sewer lapping against concrete, your own heart beating too fast in your chest. You’re suddenly aware of everything - your breath in the air, the clothes you’re wearing and the places they stick to your body, the bead of cold sweat trickling down the nape of your neck. “It’s lovely.”

“Good,” Mahito says, looking inordinately pleased with himself - one hand reaches out for you, grabbing your chin, and before you can react you’ve been pulled into a kiss. Mahito’s mouth against yours is cool; his teeth nip at your lips without much care, his tongue teasing the seam of your own. His scent swirls around you, his nails digging into the soft underflesh of your jaw--

You feel your body respond to Mahito’s man-handling, to the knowledge of who it is who’s currently kissing you - the twist of arousal like a bullet in your gut, the heat that fills your cheeks.

He breaks the kiss with a wet pop, a satisfied look in his eyes. Limned by the shine of the moon and stars and city street lights that make it here to his little sewer sanctuary, he’s beautiful. You know you’ll do whatever he asks of you.

“Because I can’t wait to see you in it,” he says, with a grin. He offers you the lingerie again, and you have no choice but to reach out with a trembling hand to take it.

It’s clearly expensive. Mahito doesn’t pay for anything, of course - it would be hard for someone who cannot be seen by most to make a purchase at a cashier - but you can’t help the thrill of feeling special that goes through you as you handle it. It’s a little white lace number, frilled at the straps, flounced at the waist into a short cascade of ruffles that will sit high on the thigh. The fabric is sheer and delicate, wispy enough that it feels as though it might rip merely from being looked at.

(It won’t survive a night with Mahito, but as you stare down at it, you try not to think about that).

Crystals sparkle, sewn carefully onto cups and edges. The tiny ribbon tag proclaims that Mahito was right; he did painstakingly pick out your size.

He stares at you with barely contained anticipation, tapping one of his feet.

“Well?” He asks, eagerly. “Aren’t you going to put it on? I wanna rip it off as soon as I can, heh. . .”

“In front of you?” Your brow creases.

“Well, it’s not like I haven’t seen you before!” His tone is teasing, but there’s that look in his eye again; you’ll have to tread carefully, to diffuse this one. Sometimes he likes it when you play the over-innocent - finds it amusing, he says, how cute you can be sometimes. How purposely obtuse, how unobservant . . . You deliberately fiddle with the pretty piece of lingerie, press your mouth forward into a pout and will heat to come into your cheeks.

“I just . . . thought you’d like it more if it were a surprise. . .” You say, and the danger in Mahito’s gaze passes again in favour of another wide smile. He laughs, a joyous head-thrown-back kind of noise.

“Ah!” He says. “You’re right, cutie. A surprise!” He pivots on his heel and deliberately claps his palms over his eyes, enjoying himself. “I’ll count to twenty!” He calls backwards to you - you can hear the smile in his voice, the giddy excitement at your suggestion. A little tension drains from your shoulders. “When I get there, I’m going to turn around and see you in it and have my wicked way with you! One!”

When he starts counting, you realise how little time you actually have to shed your current clothes and get into what he’s given you - and you don’t particularly want to know how sulky he’ll be if he turns around to discover that you haven’t gotten his gift on in time. By the time he’s reached seven, you’re shivering and naked in the sewer (not the first time, you think ruefully), your clothes in a pile before you. You carefully tug the new lingerie on, your fingers fumbling with clasps. By the count of fifteen, it’s at least on you and fastened, though it’s not quite laying correctly and you’re pulling ruffles out from where they’ve gotten caught up with one another.

By the count of nineteen, breathless and sweaty, you’re just about presentable.

There’s no time for you to worry about how exactly the white might accentuate flaws and insecurities when Mahito is happily calling out ‘twenty!’ and whirling around with a grin on his face that seems to glow with a frightening otherworldly light. There’s one brief flash of fear the moment he claps his hands together and his eyes drink you in for the first time--

(If you’re not good enough, or found wanting, what might he do to you? Will the kisses and the proclamations of how much he likes you and adores you and how good you taste, how good you feel, how soft and warm and human and desirable you are mean nothing to him? The nights you’ve spent panting into one another’s mouths, the stuttering groan out of his throat the first time you touched his carefully manufactured cock, all come to naught?)

But then he’s grinning.

“Why,” he says, with a smile like the big bad wolf. “I did a great job, huh? Cutie, you look good enough to eat--!”

And then, like the big bad wolf all over again,in one graceful movement he’s pounced like an animal and he’s upon you.

He’s a clash of teeth and tongue, interspersed with breathless laughter and long fingers pulling at delicate fabrics. He pants into your mouth, simply enjoying himself - his hands roaming all over the curves and the lines of your body, taking great handfuls and palmfuls and squeezing them deliberately hard until you squeak into his kiss and he laughs breathlessly again.

His teeth nip at your lower lip hard enough to draw blood, and you taste the coppery droplet at the same time as you hear one the delicate lace straps rip and your shoulder is left bare.

“Oops,” says Mahito, pulling back, but by his grin and the twinkle in his eyes you have no doubt that he meant to do it - and no doubt, too, that he does not feel a shred of shame for doing so despite the craftsmanship that must have gone into this garment. “Oh well . . . now it’s broken, I won’t worry about ripping the rest of it off!”

He dives back into devouring you. His lips brush your jawline, down the line of your throat, teeth grazing and nipping at the vulnerable flesh there. Your core and your heart pound as one until you can’t tell what’s fear and what’s arousal. There’s no matching underwear for this little negligee number and you hadn’t risked Mahito’s ire by keeping your own on, so your sex is bare - and you feel a trickle of your own slick on your inner thighs, smearing damp. Your breath catches as Mahito gives you a particularly hard bite with teeth you don’t remember being quite so sharp last time he had bitten you.

He laughs again.

“You’re adorable when you’re scared,” Mahito murmurs, through a mouthful of kisses. “I can feel your heart beating, taste it in the air . . . ooh, cutie, it makes me just want to ruin you.”

Your body can no longer tell fear from arousal, though. It’s been so long, and being with Mahito is the same as having a guillotine above your head whilst there’s someone knelt between your thighs using their mouth upon you - the fear simply adds to your desire, now. You whine as he snaps the other strap and giggles as the fabric falls from your body.

It’s barely been on you for five minutes, but it’s no surprise that it will end up sodden and stained and ruined in Mahito’s sewer. It’s just like you, in that way; something bright and mortal and ordinary made into something else by Mahito’s hand.

At least it has been made into something else without the aid of his cursed technique, you suppose - and then Mahito’s hand slips between your legs and his rough calloused fingers find the seam of your sex to slip between and your mind goes blank of anything but how those digits feel, thumb and forefinger roughly finding your clit and pinching it in a way that makes you whine.

You barely notice that he’s shoving you, bullying you towards a wall until your bare back meets the unpleasantly damp concrete and brick of the sewer - all you can concentrate on is the rhythm of him and his fingers, the feel of him smiling against your bare skin. You whimper again when he pinches once more, harder this time, and he pants against your neck;

“Make that noise for me again, okay? It’s so cute--!”

One of his other fingers finds your entrance. He circles it, still giggling against your bare skin as you pant and whimper and whine pitifully into the humid air.

“Those noises!” Mahito laughs, nosing against the spot just below your ear. His teeth tug at your earlobe. “Do you even know how pathetic you sound, cutie? You’re lucky I think it’s adorable!” His finger slides into you, and you squirm as you feel the slender digit swell within you so that it pushes against your walls. Mahito is always doing this; manipulating his body when you least expect it. His cock inside of you almost so big you feel split apart, his tongue longer and longer so he can fuck you on it--

Another feeble noise escapes out of you as you feel the swelling continue, as Mahito tilts his finger just so in order to reach all of the most delicate parts of you. You wonder if he’ll stop before you fall apart. He’s still pinching your clit, still touching you, still breathing on you and panting and letting you ruin yourself for him. He twists your clit gently, just a bit too roughly to be pleasurable--

But your body has grown to known the cadence and the rhythm of Mahito’s attentions, and despite the flash of pain that emanates from between your thighs it twists inside of you into a confused kind of pleasure and you come for him, pathetically whining again, a gush of your own slick releasing despite the swollen finger-almost-cock inside of you as your body prickles all over with the confused and painful shocks of your orgasm.

“See?” He coos. “Pathetic little thing! You even like being pushed around! You like it when I hurt you, cutie! You like knowing that the thing making you come is inhuman--”

“No,” you reply, weakly, but Mahito doesn’t seem to care about your response to him - and neither does your body. As he maneuvers himself around and slots himself between your legs, your thighs part for him and his laugh is like the crowing of a bird as he reaches into his trousers and fishes out his cock, already straining and flushed at the tip and leaking precome.

His finger, an ordinary size again, slips from inside of you. You think dimly about running away - but then you look at Mahito again, so handsome, so lovely, his eyes wide and bright and excited . . . You think about how long you’ve lasted so far. You think about how he looks when he’s come, his body curled about you and his mouth curled into a smile with his eyes closed like a satisfied cat. You think about the expensive present carefully chosen for you.

“Mahito,” you whisper, into the air, your voice soft and creaky and sore from the whimpering. “I love you.”

Mahito slaps the head of his cock - he’s gone for one of his favourite shapes and sizes today, slightly too thick for you to be comfortable so your whimpers of pleasure are rasped with pain, an upward curve that hits your g-spot and just far enough beyond that it hurts - against your wet sex.

“Oh,” he says, a smile bright on his face as he slides the head inside of you and your fingers find his broad shoulders to cling onto. “I know you do, cutie. And I think that’s just about enough to keep you alive. Don’t you?”

#writing #mahito x reader #mahito smut #jjk x reader #jjk smut #dub con for ts #dubious consent for ts #jjk posting #blood cw

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hwere · 11 days

Text

SydCarmy | T | 2k words.

Tags: established relationship, dialogue heavy, tomfoolery.

“So, we’ve been secretly dating for three months now. I-I think we should tell the staff. For transparency’s sake, y’know? What d’you think?” Sydney’s pacing in the kitchen. She took off her shirt after spilling coffee all over it and has yet to go grab a new one. Carmy’s very much enjoying the view of his girlfriend only dressed in a burgundy bra and jeans.

It takes a minute for him to peel off his eyes from her torso and meet her gaze. “You were the one that suggested for us to take it slow, so it’s your decision. ‘m cool with whatever, Syd.” His eyes drifted down back to her smooth exposed skin.

“God, you're such an unhelpful perv,” she throws her dirty shirt at his face, he catches just in time, grinning. “I’m being serious, Carm. We’re their boss and-and our relationship could make things, like, awkward or impact the business, alright? We have to be careful.”

“We’re being careful, Syd. As careful as a relationship between two chefs who run a restaurant together can go,” he shrugs. “We don’t have to tell them, if you’re feeling so pressured about it. We can keep things low and wait for a better opportunity.”

She sighs, halting the pacing. “I know that our private life is our business only and all that, but I don’t know,” it’s her time to shrug, coming closer. Carmy immediately pushes his chair back, beckoning her to sit on his lap; she gladly complies. “I really feel like we owe them transparency about the change in our relationship.”

Carmy hums, occupied kissing and biting her neck.

“God, you are a perv,” she’s giggling, squirming in his arms. “C’mon, Carm. Or we’re gonna be late again.”

“Oh, here’s something that I learned in therapy,” he stops his ministrations on her neck, leaning back on the chair to look at her. “It’s okay to care and worry about things, but you can’t let that dictate how you live your life.”

“Oh, yeah? Please say more, Doctor Freud.” Sydney is grinning; returning his lustful gaze through her thick, long lashes. Makes a show of biting her bottom lip.

“Be a little shit about it, Syd.” He rolls his eyes, manhandling Sydney on his lap. He tightens his hold of her, stands up; carrying her bridal style. “I’m gonna show you something real Freudian.”

They’re late for work, again.

A ‘better opportunity’ ends up presenting itself a few days later on the biweekly original staff’s meeting. Something that Richie, of all people, suggested to improve their communication and teamwork; a safe space—except for Fak, as Richie proclaimed as the self-proclaimed HR—to throw ideas and voice your complaints. It proved to be a success so far.

“Does anyone have anything else to add?” Carmy asks, looking up from his clipboard. They’re on the front of the house, an hour after closing. “Alright. Sydney.” He doesn’t elaborate, just waits. She’s sitting beside Natalie, laughing about something.

“Yeah?”

“Didn’t you have something to say?”

She’s momentarily lost, chuckles nervously when she realizes what he’s referencing. “Oh. You wanna do this right now?”

“Now’s as good a time as any,” he nods. Only under torture would Carmy ever admit out loud that putting Sydney on the spot like that was his way to get payback from her not shutting down immediately a customer’s repeatedly attempts to flirt with her earlier. The man really had the audacity to come to their restaurant to flirt with his girl.

“Carm…” She stands up, comes close. “Are you sure?”

“You were the one that suggested, Syd. Are you sure?” He’s slightly aware that he’s probably being shitty right now, but Sydney only gives him a pointed look, shakes her head and turns around to face the staff.

“Fucking spill it already, Syd. We all wanna go home,” Richie urges, nonchalantly dusting his lapels. The rest of the staff makes noises of agreement.

“We, uhh. I-I mean, me and Carmy, we’re… uhh,” she looks around the room, scratching her brow. Her eyes land on his and she takes a deep breath, facing the crew once again. “We’re dating.” Her voice comes out firm. “We’ve been dating for about three months now and we just thought to, like, tell you about it for transparency’s sake. Yeah.” She finishes, nodding.

The room is silent for some uncomfortable seconds.

“Kinda late for an April’s Fool joke, no?” As always, Richie’s the first one to voice his thoughts.

“Three months?” Natalie says, stunned.

“Mami, what about the guy you were seeing?” Tina asks, scrunching her eyebrows. “What’s his name? Alex?” Carmy turns to Sydney, who absolutely refuses to look at him.

“Who’s Alex, Syd?” He inquires.

“It was, like, two dates, T.” She ignores him. “And Richie, you’re always calling us mom and dad. What do you mean by April’s Fool joke?”

“Yeah. As a joke, Syd. You’re not even his type,” Richie sniffs.

“I’m sorry?” Sydney barks at the same time Carmy goes “Richie. Shut the fuck up!” The older man puts his hands up in mocked surrender. “Sydney. Who the fuck is Alex?”

“Yo, Syd. Weren’t you the one saying that dating in the workplace was weird and inappropriate?” Marcus asks and there’s something in his voice that forces Carmy to look between the two of them. Sydney seems mortified, scratching her brows again.

“Y-Yeah. I, hm, did say that.”

“What about Claire, Carmy? I thought you were trying to get back with her.” Of course Fak would feel the need to mention his ex in the conversation, as if the whole thing wasn’t uncomfortable enough as it was.

“We broke up months ago, Fak. I haven’t seen her since.”

“I think it was more than two dates with the Alex guy, Syd. I ran into you guys once and there were at least two times that you showed up late,” Gary offers, resting his chin on his hand.

“That was a, hm, a different guy, Sweeps.” Carmy almost has a whiplash due to how fast he whips his head around to look at her. So, at some point she saw two different guys and there was something between her and Marcus? And he didn’t know about it?

“Everybody, shut the fuck up,” Natalie demands and the room goes quiet. “So, you’re actually dating each other? Dating as in dating? Not an elaborate prank or something?” She inquires, looking suspiciously between the two of them.

“Yes!” They answer at the same time.

“Okay… I have questions. How did that happen?” Natalie crosses her arms.

“That’s none of your business, Sugar,” Carmy says, starts to blush.

“Which sounds like a code to we were fucking this whole time. Wait a min—holy shit. They’ve been using the working on the menu thing excuse to fuck around!” Richie puts his fist in front of his mouth, laughing. When Carmy and Sydney stutter a retort at the same time, his laughter grows louder. “I can’t fucking believe it!”

“That’s an HR violation, Richie.” Marcus offers, seemingly taking pity on them.

“Well, Syd and Cousin over here walked themselves into this one.”

“Oh, just like you walked into my knife, Richie?”

“Point taken.” Once again, he puts his hands up in mocked surrender.

“Richie, are you allergic to shutting the fuck up or something?” Natalie groans. “I still have questions! How did no one find out? Like, none of you were not even remotely suspicious about these two?” She looks around, all the staff shaking their heads.

“We decided to take things slow, y’know?” Sydney finally manages to say, looking at Carmy for support; he nods. “We wanted to keep our personal life, well, personal, but also keep things professional. This, hm, conversation was supposed to be for transparency and to assure all of you that nothing changes.”

“I feel like a lot has changed, to be honest.” Marcus mutters and Carmy need this conversation to be over so he can inquire Sydney about whatever the fuck happened between them. She’s currently sending guilty looks towards Marcus.

Angel clasps his hands together, “alright, just to get this straight and wrap this up. You guys are dating, right?”

“Oh my god, yes!” Sydney sounds almost exasperated now.

“Congratulations?” Ebraheim offers.

“Can we go now?” Manny points towards the door.

“Hold on! I’m still not buying it.” Richie opens his mouth one more time and Carmy deems that he had enough. He puts his clipboard down, walks to Sydney, holds her face with both hands and kisses her.

He doesn’t care how out of character the public display of affection is from them. This was supposed to be a ‘just crossing some things out of our list’ kind of conversation, but of course they turned into a full circus. So now, he was going to give them a proper show.

“That is an HR violation,” Richie proclaims when the couple are breaking apart. “Expect to hear from me tomorrow.” With that, the staff starts gathering their things to leave.

“Just so you know, I’m not done with you two.” Natalie faux threatens with a smile.

“You have yet to answer me who’s Alex.” They’re back at their kitchen. Sydney’s sitting at the counter wearing her favorite faded Snoopy t-shirt, no bra this time, and a black sweatpants she stole from him, while Carmy is shirtless, his only item of clothing being a gray sweatpants hanging low on his hips; fixing supper for them.

“Christ! He’s just some guy, Carm. I met him twice – it didn’t go anywhere,” she groans. “Before you ask, the guy Sweeps was talking about is Mike. He’s an old colleague from CIA. We had a date, hooked up once and that was it.” Carmy’s left eye twitches with Sydney being so dismissive of this information. He’s trying so hard to not let his jealousy take over him. “And both of them happened way before you confessed your feelings for me.”

He nods, he knows that. When he finally got the courage to ask Sydney out on a real date and be honest about his feelings, things moved pretty quickly between them and they’ve been together ever since. “What about Marcus?”

“Oh!” He looks back, catches her fidgeting with a loose thread of the sweatpants and biting her lip. “He… sorta asked me out before the opening on Friends and Family,” she says all at once, taking a steadying breath after. “That’s why he, hm, kinda snapped at me.” Whatever she sees on his face when she looks up has her putting her hands up and shaking her head, adding quickly, “but we’re good now! It’s water under the bridge, y’know?”

Carmy only nods again, moving to set down the table.

“Are you mad?”

“Not with you, but mostly jealous,” he mutters, avoiding her eyes.

“What if I told you that you look real hot right now, all bothered and jealous?” She murmurs against his left shoulder blade, both of her hands resting against his pecs.

“Sydney.”

“Carmen.” She plants a kiss on his nape, still holding his pecs. “I didn’t tell you about it for the same reason you don’t talk about Claire – there’s no point. It’s in the past.” Sydney moves her hands to hug his waist properly, resting her head on his back. He covers her hands, where they’re laying against his stomach, with his own.

“Next time a customer flirts with you, you better tell them to fuck off ‘cause you have a boyfriend.” Carmy not only hears, but feels the tremble of Sydney’s laughter.

“Oh, so that’s what that was about.” She untangles herself from him and he immediately misses the comfort of her warmth; turns around to grab her hips, keeping her close. “I was wondering why you were being so distant during service and then decided, out of the blue, to tell the staff about us. So, you’re both jealous and possessive, huh?”

“You shouldn’t play with fire, Sydney.”

“I’m not afraid of getting myself burned, Carmen.”

#the bear #carmy x sydney #sydcarmy #sydney adamu #carmy berzatto #fanfiction #y writes

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jasontoddsmommyissues · 10 months

Text

Unsmooth Operator

Pairing: Eddie Munson x Femme!Reader

Summary: It’s summer in Hawkins and Eddie finds himself caught up on the cute girl working at the record store in the mall

Warnings: Reader uses she/her pronouns, brief mentions of sexual content (nothing sexual actually happens), swearing, potentially lethal levels of adorableness

A/N: First of all, sorry it’s been so long since I posted my last fic. My poor little ADHD self is a slow writer, I’m afraid. But anyway, I kind of wrote this as a sort of prequel to my Henderson!Reader fic, but there’s no direct mention of Reader being related to anyone, so you can either read it as that or not. Also, special thanks to Mr. Joseph Quinn for confirming that Eddie Munson has no game.

My Master List | Ao3

It’s June in Hawkins and the summer heat has already grown practically unbearable. The shitty window A/C unit Eddie’s been using has finally crapped out, and in the heat of the day the trailer is approximately the temperature of the sun. Mercifully, he’s found a sweet, air conditioned refuge in the newly built Starcourt mall, a temple to 20th century decadence and consumerism that also happens to be a very pleasant temperature inside.

Jeff and Gareth are tagging along today, which is fun except for the quick pit stop they had to make at the homegoods store so Gareth could pick up some new linens for his mom. They’ve finished that now, though, and Eddie’s already got their next destination in mind.

“I’m gonna do it”, Gareth insists as they go, “I’m gonna get a tattoo.”

“Your mom would kill you”, Jeff replies.”remember when she caught you smoking? I thought she wasn’t going to let us see you ever again after that.”

“It’s different now”, Gareth tells him, “I’m 16. I’m gonna be a junior. It’s time I make my own choices, you know?”

“Good luck with that”, Jeff laughs.

“Let’s hit the record store next”, Eddie cuts in, “I want to pick up the new Bob Dylan album for Wayne.”

“More like you wanna see the cute girl working the register”, Jeff teases.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about”, Eddie retorts, desperately hoping his cheeks aren’t actually turning as red as he thinks they are.

In truth, he does have an ulterior motive for wanting to go to the record store, and it is you. You’ve been going to Hawkins High for the past three years, but admittedly Eddie had never really been more than vaguely aware of your existence until this past semester, when you two had PE together. He had this routine he’d do where he would imitate the gym teacher when the man wasn’t looking, and it never failed to elicit a giggle from you. One day Eddie noticed how cute you looked when you laughed and well, he’s been a little bit stuck on you ever since.

“Why don’t you just ask her out?” Gareth comments, as if it’s just that easy.

Sweet, naive Gareth. Maybe for guys like Steve Harrington it’s that easy, but Eddie isn’t Steve Harrington. Gareth wasn’t there for Eddie’s early high school days. He wasn’t there during Eddie’s sophomore year when two hot juniors decided to prank him by convincing him their cheerleader friend was “super into him” or his junior year when he invited that girl from drama club to join Hellfire and she laughed out loud at him. Most girls don’t even want to be seen with Eddie “the Freak” Munson, let alone date him.

“Jeff’s talking out of his ass”, Eddie lies, “come on, let’s go.”

You are, of course, there at the counter when they walk in, and oh God, is that an Iron Maiden shirt you’re wearing? Fuck, as if he couldn’t be more into you.

“Um, Eddie, you good dude?” Gareth asks him and he realizes he’s stopped right there in the entrance of the store, just staring at you. He quickly turns away and walks the rest of the way into the store, thankful that you’re currently checking out a customer and probably didn’t notice him ogling you like a total weirdo.

Admittedly, this may not have been a good idea, at least if he wants to convince Jeff and Gareth he’s not into you. He quickly grabs a Bob Dylan tape and starts making for the door, desperate to just get out of there and spare himself anymore humiliation.

“Um, you gonna pay for that?” Jeff asks and fuck. He’s shoplifted before but he’s not interested in getting barred from the record store, so he’s not gonna risk it today.

“Right”, he mutters and then he forces himself to go up to the counter.

He feels like his heart is going to explode in his chest when he walks up and you flash him that brilliant smile of yours.

“Hi, Eddie”, you greet and his eyes grow wide because you know his name. Well, obviously you did, you had a class together, but it just sounds so good coming from your mouth that he momentarily ceases to function.

“Did you need help with something?” you ask after a moment.

“What?” Eddie asks, “oh no. Just um, just this.”

He sets the tape on the counter and you grab it to ring it up.

“Dylan”, you comment as you do, “not your usual fare.”

“It’s for my uncle”, Eddie explains, “he’s a big fan.”

“Cool”, you say, “I like your vest by the way. Dio. Nice.”

Well, that’s it. It’s over. Eddie’s done for.

“That’ll be $6.30”, you say.

“Oh, right money”, Eddie sputters and fishes a ten out of his pocket. He knows Jeff and Gareth are standing nearby, watching this all play out and probably laughing with each other about it. He’s definitely never living this down.

“You want a bag”, you ask as you finish gathering his change.

“Oh, I um, I guess”, he replies, not actually processing the question. You hand him his change, then place the tape in a bag and slide it over to him. He goes to grab it, and because he’s not at all paying attention to anything but you, inadvertently sends the display of Beach Boy tapes sitting on the counter tumbling to the floor.

“Oh shit”, he hisses, “oh fuck, I’m so sorry.”

“It’s okay”, you reply, coming around the counter, “I keep telling Doug he shouldn’t put that stuff so close to the register.”

You bend down to start picking up the tapes and years worth of Wayne’s lectures on behaving like a gentleman come flooding back to Eddie, so he quickly follows suit.

“Let me help you”, he says.

“Thanks”, you say and you’re smiling again and Eddie kind of wants to die.

With the two of you, it doesn’t take long to get everything cleaned up and back in order.

“I’m really sorry”, Eddie says again as you make your way back behind the counter, and then before he can stop himself, he blurts, “maybe I could make it up to you somehow?”

“What?” you ask, clearly unsure of what he means.

“I mean like, maybe I could buy you a-a coffee or something sometime”, he stammers.

You peer at him for a moment, and he braces for the inevitable rejection he’s about to endure.

“I like ice cream”, you say, “if you meet me here at 3 tomorrow, you can buy me some ice cream and we’ll call it even.”

Maybe Eddie’s already dead and this is heaven. That or he’s being punked somehow. Either way, he stands there like an idiot for a second, trying to process that you just suggested the two of you meet for ice cream.

“Um okay”, he says.

“Cool”, you grin, “see you then.”

“Right”, he says, “see you then.”

And then he’s swiping his bag from the counter and stiffly making his way back to Jeff and Gareth, his body still trapped in a state of shock.

“So”, Jeff prompts, “what was all that?”

“I um, I think I’m meeting her for ice cream tomorrow”, Eddie informs them.

The two younger boys exchange glances, mouths stretching into a matching pair of shit eating grins.

“Talking out of my ass, huh?” Jeff teases.

“Shut up”, Eddie snaps, “I’m just being polite okay? It’s not like a date or anything.”

“Sure it isn’t”, Gareth replies smugly.

“Whatever”, Eddie huffs and the others know not to continue the conversation, even if they spend the rest of the afternoon exchanging amused glances at each other.

Eddie waits until he’s back at the trailer to let everything sink in. When it does, he feels a vague sense of panic washing over him.

Embarrassing as it is, Eddie’s never had a real, serious girlfriend before. Hell, aside from a brief flirtation with Tammy Thompson that ended in a very awkward hand job in the school parking lot, he’s never really had any experience with girls (or boys for that matter) at all. And Tammy was the one that initiated that. He wasn’t even really into her, he was just desperate for some sort of female attention.

You, though, he is into you. Very, very much into you. And he has no idea what the hell he’s supposed to do or say. He finally, finally has a chance to go out with his dream girl, and he’s almost certainly going to say something wrong and scare you off like pretty much everyone he’s ever been into.

He wonders what the weather in Wisconsin is like this time of year, because he’s halfway to hopping in his van and heading there now, never to be seen or heard from in Hawkins, Indiana again.

Then again, maybe he’s over thinking it. It’s not like the word “date” ever came up in your conversation. Maybe this really is just him paying you back for his clumsiness, and afterwards you won’t even spare him a second thought. In the end, he figures that whatever the case, he’s not just going to leave you high and dry, so he has no choice but to go.

Eddie shows up outside the record store at 2:45 the next day. He stands there awkwardly, fiddling with his rings and secretly hoping that you don’t show up and he doesn’t have to deal with all of this.

No such luck though, you appear exactly at 3, looking as cute as ever in your jean skirt.

“Hey”, you greet and Eddie momentarily forgets how to speak.

“Hey”, he repeats, unable to formulate a coherent enough thought to do anything but copy your greeting.

“You ready to go?” you ask and he nods.

The record store is a fair bit away from Scoops Ahoy, and for probably the first time in his life, Eddie finds himself unsure of what exactly to say. Thankfully, you take the lead.

“So, have you heard Megadeth’s album?” you ask, “I got it the first day it came out and I love it.”

“Me too”, Eddie says, and he can feel himself being knocked out of his stupor then, “you know, my friends and I have a metal band.”

“Really?” you ask.

“Yeah”, he tells you, “we perform Wednesdays at the Hideout, if you ever want to come see us.”

“I’ll keep that in mind”, you smile and Eddie thinks his heart momentarily stops.

Walking into Scoops Ahoy with you by his side is an almost unreal experience. You and him go up to the counter and Steve Harrington is there in his little sailor suit that Eddie almost feels sorry that he’s forced to wear.

“Hey Steve”, you greet.

“Hey Y/N”, Steve replies, and then he notices that Eddie’s with you and he gets this super confused look on his face.

“So, uh, get whatever you want I guess”, Eddie says.

Once you two have ordered and gotten your ice cream, you eat it while idly wandering around the mall, just chatting about anything and everything. Eddie, as always, is frequently cracking jokes, and God is it mesmerizing to see the way you laugh in response.

It’s quite the disappointment when you’re finishing your ice cream and you’re bidding him farewell.

He knows he has to at least try to see you again so he tests the waters with a quick “that was fun, we should do it again sometime.”

“I’d like that”, you smile.

“Awesome”, he replies.

“Here”, you say, rooting around in your purse, “give me your hand.”

He obliges, and you produce a pen, which you use to scribble something onto his outstretched hand.

“What’s this?” he asks.

“My number”, you reply, “call me tonight or tomorrow?”

“Sure”, he tells you.

“Great”, you say, “I’ll see you, Eddie.”

“See you”, he says, hoping he doesn’t sound as absolutely lovesick to you as he does to himself.

You flash him one final smile before departing, and he just stands there awkwardly for a second, watching as you go. Once you’ve disappeared from sight and he’s snapped out of his trance, he peers down at the numbers you’d scrawled onto his hand. He has to remind himself that it’d be weird to get them tattooed onto himself permanently. He can’t believe that it worked. You went on a date with him, in public, and didn’t care if you were seen together. You laughed at his jokes. You gave him his number and asked to see him again. You liked him.

The trailer is as unbearably hot as ever when he returns, but for once, he doesn’t care. He’s too excited to call you later and hopefully set up another date.

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