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fleur-bbyy · 1 year

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I WANNA FEEL YOU FROM THE INSIDE

playlist

⭒pairing: katsuki bakugo x fem! reader.

⭒wc: 4.8k

⭒warnings: SEX (MINORS DNI), continuation of the porn!au, characters are aged up to 21+, reader is not of a certain skin color, use of names like ‘bunny,’ daddy kink, spanking with belt, live camming, mentions of; onlyfans, pegging, plugs, fingering (f! receiving), cunnilingus, slight breath play, small part of m! receiving oral, degrading, if I forgot anything I will update this later on!

⭒author’s note: y’all the amount of times I had to change the fake usernames to not accidentally tag someone is crazy. will scream, cry, and throw up if I still somehow managed to.

part one.

“you still wanna go through with it?”

“fuck yeah. show that fucker what he’s missing with us.”

it’d been a few months since you and katsuki had professionally filmed together for the first time. watching the opportunity for a decent cash flow get even bigger after more and more sick bastards wanted to see the two of you together. becoming a little more than professional acquaintances as you filmed together more and more.

it felt like the two of you could only keep growing until that douchebag that calls himself a director publicly shit on both of your names. calling the two of you ‘unprofessional’ and a slew of other names, even going as far to say he could’ve ‘done it without the both of you’ whilst he basked in the glory of his first successful porno. your ranks and ratings didn’t drop that much, but it was enough to piss the two of you off.

so now here the pair of you are, about to prove to that dickhead director that you didn’t need him, he needed you.

“it’s just been a while since i’ve cammed live. I feel like i’m back at the beginning again.”

“i bet. we’ve all come a long way though.” he stood up from where he was sat at the laptop perched upon your desk, angled towards the chaise lounge in your room. everything was set and ready with a timer counting down from five minutes. for some reason you were nervous about camming again.

maybe it was the fact that you hadn’t done so in so long.

or maybe it was that you didn’t know what the hulking blond standing over you had in store.

“we still have four and a half minutes left,” he rough hand stroked your soft cheek, “wanna let me get a little taste before you start, bunny?” his free hand cupped your cunt covered with white lace.

“nuh-uh. don’t spoil yourself now or you’ll have nothing left in you in a few.” you pushed him off and walked over to where the laptop was set up to check the countdown once more. making sure to shimmy your hips as you walked to show off your cute ass to him.

he already felt quite feral just looking at you. body clad in skimpy, white lingerie with cute little bunny ears on your head and a cotton tail attached the the back of your thong. the thigh-high socks squeezed the fat of your thighs so perfectly his cock was already straining against his jeans.

“have it your way, princess, but remember who’s in charge today. no shitty scripts to follow, I can do whatever the fuck I want.” you didn’t know whether you should feel more aroused or terrified at the thought. you’ve seen his videos from when he was amateur. unscripted, he was ruthless. fucking whoever was with him in the most insane, body-contorting positions, having them drool all over themselves. you weren’t ashamed to admit that you had touched yourself many times before to the sound of the filth that he spoke into the mic.

“it’s almost time, bunny. c’mere and sit with me.” he beckoned you over to the lounge with a wiggle of his index finger. he was shirtless with his chest lightly oiled. you eyed the way his pecs and stomach glistened under the light every time he shifted. he switched out his jeans and boxers to just a pair of grey sweats with nothing underneath. you loved the way his trail of wispy, blond hairs started just below his naval and disappeared below the waistband.

he had you sitting with your back to his chest. he held you tightly, already copping a feel on your chest. kneading and pinching the fat of your breasts. he had your legs placed over his spread ones, making you completely open for the camera. your little thong barely covered a thing and was getting eaten by your lips. he used his other hand to slide down your body and gently rub your clit over the cloth.

you almost forgot what you were about to be doing until you heard the familiar pinging sound from money being sent in. this little cam show was pretty well advertised on both of your socials and even by some of your friends in the industry, so it was really not surprise that people were already sending tips in. you soon heard bakugo pipe up. his voice moderately loud so the microphone could pick it up.

“awh, bunny, hear all those horny bastards that already are spendin’ shit on you? we’ve barely done anything yet” you quickly nodded your head, wiggling your hips to try and get his hand to move faster.

“where are your fuckin’ manners?” he took the hand that was kneading your tits and brought it up to your neck, fastening his thick fingers around and lightly squeezing. you let out a small ‘thank you’ which you thought wouldn’t be enough. thankfully, bakugo had mercy right now.

he kept toying with your cunt, continuously growing wetter and wetter. your arousal now seeping through your thong and spreading onto your plush thighs. also dripping down onto bakugo, leaving a wet patch on his pants.

“already makin’ such a mess. you want it bad, don’t you?” he lightly slapped your already sensitive clit, sending jolts of electricity down your spine and do your core.

“yes. so bad.” you felt like a virgin that couldn’t make a complete sentence and your cheeks started to burn. it was kind of hard to feel embarrassed when you’re in your industry, but the way he toyed with you flipped a switch inside.

“yes what?” he stopped touching you and roughly pinched your nipples, eliciting and piercing whine from you.

“yes daddy.” his cock twitched beneath you at the sound of your voice.

“good fuckin’ girl. why don’t you turn around and show them the pretty little ass of yours?” he unhooked your legs from his and brought them together so you could stand. you slowly got up, making sure to not lose your footing since your legs already felt like jelly. you heard the pinging start up again when you turned around and bent over slightly, wiggling your hips back and forth causing your ass to shake.

“come sit back down on me. daddy’s gonna play with you too, yeah?” you straddled his still-spread legs and his hands instantly found place on the fat of your ass. kneading, pulling, and squeezing every inch. you could feel his hard-on pressing right against your clit and you dared to start grinding down on him. because of that action, you were met with a harsh slap to your ass.

“who the fuck said you could grind on me? needy fuckin’ slut.” he roughly slapped your ass again and tips started to roll in at the sight of the bright red hand prints now adorning your backside.

“oh fuck, think these bastards are gettin’ off to the sight of you gettin’ punished, huh? who wants to see some more?” he was wearing the charming smirk on his face as he soothed the burning, red spots with his hands. rubbing circles on you and tilting his head to kiss and nip at your neck. the pinging sound that rolled in again signified that people did want to see more.

“alright, little bunny, all fours f’me.” you rolled off of him as he stood up, the obvious tent in his pants making your mouth water. he sauntered his way behind the lounge as you got in position. you could see out of the corner of your eye that he had picked up the belt he was wearing half an hour ago, striking the sides of the belt together to make a loud slapping sound as he approached you once more.

you felt his hands run over the spot where your lower back curved as the fabric of the lounge dipped down behind you. he caressed your smooth skin for a few moments more before he spoke up again.

“you’re gonna take ten of these yeah?” he leaned down and gripped the sides of your chin, turning your head to look towards him and the camera. “and you’re gonna count, lose your place and we start over. don’t fuck up and you get a reward. got that?” you furiously nodded your head and he cocked a warning brow at you. he let go of the death grip he had on your chin and lightly patted your cheek two or three times. you heard the leather of his belt slap against itself one more time before it was striking you.

your legs and cunt were both quivering as he delivered each blow to your sensitive skin. every strike was met with more pinging sounds as money was sent you way. your ass was covered in red spots and sore to the touch. he wasn’t entirely a monster, though, rubbing each area he hit with the palm of his hand after you struck you. despite the challenge, you didn’t lose your place and even thanked him afterwards. after the tenth was delivered, he pressed his soft lips to the spots most red and placed feather like kisses on you.

“so good f’me. so fuckin’ good f’me. daddy’ll give you what you want.” and with that he pushed your panties to the side and plunged two of his thick fingers in your wet heat. rapid fire fingering your aching pussy as he used his free hand to continue soothing the hot spots left on your ass from his belt.

the sight of your cute tears leaving mascara tracks down your pretty face in the screen of the laptop was enough to make him want to bust in his pants. the moans and whimpers that left your parted lips sounded so sweet, delicious even. and the feeling of your slick running down his middle and index finger was enough to make him lean down to lick your juices from the source as he replaced his fingers with his long tongue. his fingers found purchase again on your swollen clit, aching to be touched and he tongue-fucked you.

his movements were skillful. rubbing circles on your clit in a way the stimulated your nerves in just the right way. he worked his tongue oh so perfectly inside you, causing you to writhe under he touch. his free hand fisting at the fat of your ass.

he could tell that you were getting close by your moans increasing in volume and the way your pussy fluttered and clenched around his tongue. the pinging sound had slowed, pissing him off a bit.

“you wanna see this slut cum? pay the fuck up. we’re not doin’ this shit for free.” you whined when he pulled away from you, getting whatever the female equivalent of blue balls was. you dropped your top half down to the lounge, just leaving your ass in the air. you wiggled it a bit for the camera and for the blond staring at you through the laptop screen.

“shit, 15,000¥? these motherfuckers really are desperate. 20,000¥ and i’ll make this slutty bunny squirt.” he lightly ghosted his fingers over your pussy before deciding he wanted your panties that were still pushed to the side off. the strength of the explosive blond before you made you gush another bout of wetness as he tore them at the hips and pulled them off. even though you were desperate, you quietly whines at the loss. you really liked this lingerie set.

“oi, heard that shit. quit your bratty bitchin’ or you won’t cum until I do.” at that, he looked to the laptop and saw that someone had sent in the amount he requested and smirked.

“make sure to say ‘thank you.’” he dived back in your pussy, one hand on your clit, two fingers back in your cunt, and using his tongue to drink up any of your dripping slick. it wasn’t long before you felt that familiar pressure in your stomach and your hole started to twitch. shit, you were right there.

“oh fuck, oh fuck, fuckfuckfuck thank you.. fuck.” your speech was slurred and words were jumbled together as he finger-fucked you through your orgasm. he growled at the way your cunt gushed for him and all over him, drinking up as much as he could.

“shit, that’s my good fuckin’ girl. stand up f’me and show them your drenched pussy.” you did as he said, already feeling so fucked out to disobey. he held you by your hips as you stood, steadying your balance. using one of his big hands to spread your cheeks apart to show off your fucked hole, groaning at your reflection in the camera.

“d’you bastards miss when she was a cam slut? because i sure fuckin’ do.” he rubbed the side of your hip and ass as he pressed little kisses to your skin. it wasn’t long before the chat was beginning him to take his dick out and for you to take your bra off.

“awww. they want you to get naked too.” you teased, ruffling his blond hair.

“‘m sure they just want my cock out because that means i’m closer to destroying your insides.” he teased right back at you, softly smacking your backside.

you felt gracious about him giving you a little breather. you loved your work, loved making people feel good, but you hated how everything was go, go, go once the camera started rolling. sometimes having to just stay in bed the next day so the poor spot between your legs could take a break. when you felt ready, you tapped his shoulder and gave him a quick nod when he looked up.

you straddled his lap once more and pawed at his cock through the fabric of his sweatpants. you just wanted him to stuff you full and you were willing to act out to get it.

“needy little whore arentcha? not fuckin’ you yet. on your knees.” he patted your face once more and got up with you to get you closer to the camera. only his lower half was in view, but your face and still-covered chest was on full display. you were visibly excited when he tugged his sweatpants down enough to free his rock hard dick. taking it into his hand and pumping it a few times before slapping your cheek with it.

“be a good bunny and open wide f’me.” as soon as you did so, he was shoving his cock in your mouth. fucking your face for true audience you’d garnered. you thought all you’d be getting was a rough face-fucking until he pushed his length all the way in. the tip of your nose was touching his groomed, blond hairs that grew from his pelvis. tears once again started to stream down your cheeks as you struggled to breathe through your nose.

“you want this bitch to breathe? 5,000¥. simple enough? ‘m lowballin’ because the slut seems desperate already.” he punctuated his last few syllables by lightly thrusting back and forth in your mouth. it still wasn’t enough for you to get a deep breath, but enough for you to not pass out.

as he looked at the screen, a specific ping of a donation caught his attention.

105,000¥ - fuck her now.

he pulled out and leaned down to where his face was in view. he gave you a moment to sputter and catch your breath before he was gripping you by the jaw to look at the camera.

“see how much they wanna pay for that sloppy cunt? whad’dya think?”

“mmmm, 20,000¥ more. my pussy’s worth it.”

“you fuckin’ heard her, pay up, bastards. or i’ll just fuck her off camera.” he finished his last word with another slap to your ass. his rough hand still had you by the jaw as he showed off your messy face. makeup smeared and mascara stains running down your hot cheeks. you smiled into the camera when you saw the notification come up that someone had sent the remaining amount of money.

“thank you, baby. bet you wish it was you here and not him. you’d treat me nice, right?” bakugo’s gaze bore into the side of your head as he listened to you flirt with whoever threw money your way. anything word you spoke that sounded remotely suggestive was like a buzzword for more tips to roll in. “mmm you want him to take my bra off? you’d better ask him nicely.”

he fixated his gaze off of you and onto the comments rolling in in the monitor. another 10,000¥ rolling in with the nice request that he strip you some more.

“you bastards are so fuckin’ desperate. bet you’re all touchin’ yourselves right now. waiting for her tits to be out before you bust.” he was standing behind you, unhooking the clasps on your bra and letting it drop to the floor. you were fully exposed for the camera now. the only thing remaining from your costume lingerie were your sheer thigh-highs and the bunny ears atop your head.

he reached around you tweak your hard nipples and play with the fat of your breasts, eliciting little moans from you.

“so fuckin’ pretty. she’s a pretty, pretty girl isn’t she?” his hand traveled down to your pussy and he ran a finger through the slit to assess if he needed to prep you or not. you were practically still dripping from earlier, slick running out of your needy cunt and spreading onto the insides of your thighs.

“time to make their money’s worth, bunny. ride my fuckin’ cock.” he sat back down onto the chaise lounge and beckoned you over with the curl of his index finger. the sight of him comfortably sprawled out with his sweatpants just lazily pulled down enough for his cock to be out made the ache between your legs throb even more.

“d’ya bitches wanna see her ass or tits bounce?” he kept you from sitting, rubbing up and down the side of your hips as his eyes focused in on the chat. responses were mixed with people who wanted to see either. a few comments sprinkled in about yours or his looks.

“looks like they can’t decide, we’ll do both.” he pulled you towards him and you straddled his lap in regular cowgirl. he rubbed the tip of his angry, red cock up and down your soaked slit. the look in his eyes was enough to make you gush another wave of arousal as he slowly eased in you. the stretch of him was welcomed by your warm walls and he bottomed out rather quickly from how horny you were. his tip lightly brushed your cervix, marking you squirm above him. he grabbed your hips and you kept an agonizingly slow pace.

“if you want him to split me open, i’m gonna need a little more from you, babies.” you looked over your shoulder and winked. your reflection in the screen was pretty, beautiful even. one of his hands was lazily placed on your hip and the other placed behind his head. the sight of him slowly disappearing and appearing again was a spectacular sight to see. the way his heavy balls lightly slapped your ass was heavenly and the taut muscles flexed on his spread thighs was probably enough to make someone cream in their pants.

the pinging had begun once again and you increased your pace each time a donation came through. he eventually was gripping your hips hard enough to leave bruises as he began to thrust into you, hard and fast. your moans were already pornographically loud when you were at a slow pace, but now they filled the room with the sound of skin slapping skin.

“shit bunny, this cunt is so fuckin’ good. i can’t wait for you to make a mess on this dick.” you clenched down on him every time he spoke the filth that had gotten you off so many times before. your legs were beginning to tremble and your pussy was twitching in a way that told him you were close, right there even.

“fuck yes. cum on my cock.. ride that shit. show them how much of a dirty fuckin’ slut you are f’me.” his words coupled with his rough thrusts to punctuate the syllables sent you over the edge. your stomach felt white-hot as you creamed on him. he removed the hand from behind his head to spread your pussy lips and watch the glistening arousal flood his dick. the ring of your cum gathered on the base. that and your tits knocking together in his face made him slow himself to keep him from cumming too.

“hope y’got another one in ya. turn the fuck around and sit again.” you quickly got up and whined at the loss. katsuki growled at the sight of your hole already gaping for him.

you let out another whine of pleasure as you sat back on his cock again. your knees and shins were placed on both sides of his thighs and his arms were wrapped around the front of you to play with your tits as he started thrusting again.

he was rougher this time, removing one of his hands from your chest to move back down to your hip to keep you close to him. his feet were firmly planted in the carpet below you to keep up his pace without fault.

“play with your tits, sweets. show them how horny you are for daddy.”

“shit.. i love when daddy fills me up… fuck fuck fuck.” you brought your hands up to your chest to play with yourself and he brought his now-free hand to toy with your swollen clit. you loudly whimpered at the sensitivity when he was touching and fucking you at the same time.

“i feel you clenchin’ my shit. already gonna cum again? you really are a desperate slut for the camera.” he started slamming his hips into yours harder and you began to bounce at a pace that met his thrusts. he felt impossibly deep inside of you as your pussy squelched and gushed around him. he was now focused on your reflection in the screen. his eyes moved back and forth from the monitor to the real you. he loved being able to see your expressions whilst also being able to watch the way your peachy ass rippled and bounce as you met his rough thrusts.

“tell me.. fuck.. tell me how bad you want it.”

“daddy please I want it to badly. I need to cum and I need to be filled with yours.”

“oh, slutty bunny wants me to breed ‘er, that’s it, yeah?” you whimpered and nodded your head as he began to thrust even harder and deeper. hitting that special spot inside you that made your whole body feel like it was on fire. the crescendo of your moans and your pussy once again tightening on him told him you were almost over the edge, he was glad because he didn’t think he’d last much longer with the sight to behold in front of him.

after a few more rough thrusts and his cock dragging against your g-spot, you were once again coating the man in your release. squirting once again as he continued to ride you through your orgasm. your juices slid down his muscular thighs and onto the fabric below the both of you. you heard his growls get louder as he used your body to chase his own high. practically losing himself at the sight the clear liquid spewing from you.

“fuck bunny, y’gonna let me cum in you? fuck i’m gonna fill you up.”

a little ‘please’ was all you could get from your lips as your spent brain wasn’t thinking too clearly. he gripped your sore hips one last good time before he was spilling the contents from his balls into your overused hole.

“‘m cummin’.. fuck baby, god you feel so fuckin’ good when i’m flooding this pussy.” your body shivered as his words and the shallow thrusts he continued to pump into you. you felt impossibly empty when he slowed and lifted you off of him. that feeling soon being subdued by his thick, calloused finger tips collecting the cum that had leaked out and pushing it back into your cunt.

“know you’re fucked out, but bend over ‘n show them how pretty that pussy looks filled with my cum.” although tired, you gladly obeyed his request. standing up on wobbly legs to turn around and bend over like you’d done earlier, holding onto the edge of the lounge for stabilization.

“mmm, bet you guys wish this was yours stuffed in there, yeah?” you giggled and waved your ass back and forth as the pinging increased for a final time. katsuki grabbing your face and showing the audience how debauched and fucked out he had made you. you finished off the stream with a flirty ‘goodbye babies’ and a seductive wink before covering the camera with your hand and ending the stream.

you both watched the screen go black and light up again as the total revenue flashed across the screen. both of your eyes widened as you saw the number. you both expected into six fugures, you didn’t expect to be that well into six figures. it was more money made in a single stream than the two of you would made from a few pornos. the two of you decided the split the money equally as it made the most sense and was only fair.

the screen blackened again, this time the transcript of the comments lit up the screen. you decided to sit and read whilst the blond got up to redress.

“hey kats, they want me to peg you!” you say in front of the laptop, still naked as the day you were born minus the thigh-highs, and read through the comments. a lot of them complimenting the pair of you or offering you guys money for sex. sometimes you came across comments that made you audibly laugh, this being one of those moments.

“fat chance. most that’s been in my ass is a plug.”

“I could change that.” you wiggled a brow at him and he dramatically rolled his eyes. he stood in the corner of your room and you watched him tug a white compression shirt on.

“adventurous thing, arentcha?”

“adventurous is my middle name.”

“yeah, okay dumbass.” it was your turn to rolls your eyes as you went to your twitter to tweet about the success of the stream, definitely showing up the director that dared trash yours and bakugo’s names. after tweeting, you decided to scroll your feed a bit to see if anyone had said anything yet. if the money you guys make didn’t show the success of the stream, the slew of people tweeting about it sure did.

@better-luxe-next-time: made more in one stream with @.officialdynamight than that slimeball has made in his whole career <3

@.officialdynamight: wanna see my POV with @better-luxe-next-time? unlock the videos on my onlyfans @.dynamight.

@.alien.queen.pinky: wettest i’ve ever been from watching a stream. 3some? @better-luxe-next-time @.officialdynamight

@bigredriot: I couldn’t tell who I wanted more 😫

@chargeboltt: she could step on me and i’d say thank you!

@chakoraka i’d kill an elderly woman to be sandwiched between them.

@sticky-sero: not even gay but i’d suck his ween ngl

you smiled at the tweets your fellow stars had posted. it some sick, weird way it warmed your heart that they all had your backs and watched the stream to help you prove a point. you even noticed some of them donating their own money. the smile that grew on your face slowly drooped again once you saw another tweet posted 7 minutes ago from dynamight himself.

@.officialdynamight: 50 retweets and we’ll stream weekly. @better-luxe-next-time

“seriously, katsuki? 50 retweets?”

“i’ll take any excuse to get inside you. got the sweetest cunt i’ve ever fucked.” you took the bunny ears off and slid your stockings off your legs as he handed you his t-shirt. it fell right at your mid-thigh and swallowed your torso whole. “and trust me, i’ve fucked a lot.”

“me too, we’re in the same business, y’know,” you let out a light giggle at his exaggerated eye roll, “but yeah, best dick i’ve ever had.”

“so we can agree, one retweet?”

“sure, kats, one retweet.” his vermillion eyes darkened and his lips contorted into a cheshire cat-like smile as he opened his twitter app and turned the screen to face you. the tweet already have over 100 retweets and it’d only been up for 10 minutes.

“looks like you might wanna start getting comfy with me, bunny.”

part one.

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ofjunemoment · 11 months

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work it | na jaemin

Jaemin can’t quite keep a part time job; every time he gets hired, he somehow fucks up enough to be fired straight away. But he just can’t get fired from his job with you, not until he successfully asks you out on a date, anyway.

OR: How many times can your cover Jaemin’s mistakes before you blow up, or him.

pairing — jaemin x fem!reader

genre — restaurant!au, slowburn, fluff, humour, smut (MDNI)

wc — 20k

content — profanity, both jaemin and reader work at a chinese restaurant, kun, jaehyun, mark and shotaro mentioned, waitressing dynamics (im gonna be honest most of this is just me throwing words together and hoping for the best), smut tags below the cut :)

a/n — *sniff* my baby.... i loved writing this so much because the dynamics is something i truly enjoy ^^ there were times i wanted to strngle myself because i just couldn’t think of how to but the scenarios into words but here it is <3 hope you guys have fun reading!!!!

smut tags — making out, boob/nipple play, fingering, pet names, just the slightest bit of a dom/sub dynamic, lmk if i missed anything <3

Jaemin is in the back room of the pet store, looking at a big bag of dog food and a laminated paper with the number of servings needed for each pet section when he hears his boss call for him.

“Jaemin? You doing okay here?” He turns around to look at Mr Choi, showing a light smile and a thumbs up.

“All good sir, just trying to familiarise myself with each serving of the pet food before I try feeding them.” He waves the card around, the lanyard attached to it swishing around. Today was his third time coming in with a shift at the pet store, and although the place isn’t near his house, it wasn’t far from his campus either, which ultimately makes his travel easier. If he can go all this way to a lecture he won’t even remember, he can go again and again to make some cash and help his sobbing wallet.

Mr Choi grins, plump fingers clapping together in delight. “I knew I could trust you. You’ve worked in so many places so you must have adapted quicker.” At this, Jaemin’s smile strains a bit as he lays his hand on one of the food packets to seem normal. He’s not wrong, Mr Choi— Jaemin has worked at a lot of places. He started when he was fourteen at his uncle's small business in the night markets, looking after keychains and phone cases while his uncle would try to sell items with his marketing voice. His task was to answer customers when they asked for the price, and to find out the price he just had to remember the prices — and if he was really struggling, his uncle quips, you can look behind each sections name tag, where the prices are written in vibrant red.

But he was confident with the prices, who would forget that the key chains cost 500 won and the cases cost 1000 won?

Of course he wouldn’t forget, but he wasn’t correct either. The five and fifteen behind those items were actually 5,000 won and 10,000 won. And throughout the entire day when he would receive coins instead of the colourful notes his uncle was collecting, he didn’t even question it; he just thought his uncle was a top-tier marketer. Needless to say, he was ‘fired’ (he’s not sure if he was even supposed to be paid for his labour) and his parents took out the money he credited to his uncle from his savings.

You would think that the brutal action of taking someone's hard-earned pocket money would deter them from trying another job again until they were fully prepared to take on such professionalism. But Jaemin was devastated at the fact that he had lost his chore money while sitting down on a plastic stool in the hot summer's night market. And so he tried to get another job to attain back the money.

At age fifteen, for his birthday present, he had asked for a job opportunity from his parents. Reluctantly, they had asked one of their neighbours if they’d like to get their lawn mowed. After seeing Jaemin in the backyard a few times doing the gardening, they weren’t abhorred by the idea of paying him a small fee to clean their lawns. Excited, he set to work with the mowing, which was something he would do, but he didn’t remember if it was the growing bush on his left side or right that he was to avoid at all costs. Turns out it was both, which attained Mrs Choi’s sacred tea sprouts that she’d imported from one of the islands in between Malaysia and Indonesia, and it costs an arm and a leg, he recalls her saying. The horror on her face, when she saw the shaved-down plot of land, was something Jaemin never wishes on his worst enemy and all the while desires to draw frame to frame.

But of course, it didn’t end there. He worked at a convenience store and a local retail store when he was sixteen, but was fired from the first and never received his roster from the latter. He thought that maybe local stores were just too picky with their quality of work due to having to compete against monopoly businesses, and so he opted to turn to chain businesses instead. He worked at McDonald’s and almost deep-fried his instructor's hand when being taught how to work the fries, and barely batted an eye when a few teenagers shoplifted the stores’ display clothes when he was working the chain clothing store at the mall near his house. To his defence, he’d thought that they were his coworkers changing the clothes on display with their casual dress code of the workplace, and so naturally, he didn’t think much of it. His longest-lasting job was at a general retail store he was hired for during Christmas, where he lasted for three weeks due to his supervisor being too busy to catch Jaemin’s mistake.

It’s a miracle really that he’s lasted three solid days at this place, but there isn’t much he can screw up in a pet shop; so far all he’s tasked to do is feed the fishes, as they’re the easiest to feed, and discard the box with hamster and rabbit poop for compost. Surprisingly, they’re both placed in the same corner of the room, but they’re kept in different storage boxes. Jaemin remembers how green means compost, and blue means fish; it makes sense, so he just goes to the blue one and scoops one full scoop into a mini bucket, before going into the store and feeding the fish. With the compost bin, he simply fits it onto a wheeler before going out to the back and dumping it into the designated compost area.

Jaemin sniffles a bit, before placing the laminated poster back on the shelf, checking his watch for the time. “Oh,” He exclaims, “It’s lunchtime for the fishes,” His smile towards his boss might just be pushing it, but it seems like he’s doing a great job at, well, keeping this job; anything resembling ass-kissing, he’ll try. As long as it guarantees a longer stay for him of course.

Mr Choi laughs heartily, sending Jaemin a thumbs up as he slowly filters out of the back room while Jaemin heads to the blue tin. What he misses is how the relief from Mr Choi’s face turns into sheer horror, as he sees Jaemin scoop into the blue tin and drop the pendant-like substances into the fish’s designated feeder.

“Stop!” Jaemin drops the scooper into the tin as his boss yells out, his blood running cold at the sudden shout. “Jaemin..have you been using—” Mr Choi’s eyes widen as he cuts himself off, going back to the store with hurried steps. Jaemin is very confused, as he has his hand midway in the air from Mr Choi’s exclaim, standing in the backroom like an NPC only activated when a main character comes to him for a quest.

But, miraculously, he can move his feet as he hears another shout of— a woman? Or maybe it was just Mr Choi’s sheer…excitement of Jaemin’s dedication to his job? But what he sees when he gets out of the back room and into the main store isn’t a surprise party held for Jaemin and his efforts (okay, he thought that maybe this was all a ploy to just show his new staff some appreciation; he’s still sceptical about the horror in Mr Choi’s voice, can you blame him?). What he’s instead met with is his boss’ and how his hands are clenched on his already thinning scalp — Jaemin winces when he sees a strand slowly descend to the floor— as he skids left and right around the aquariums.

It isn’t until Jaemin takes a closer look and sees that the fishes he thought were sleeping are now, well, permanently sleeping; on the floor of the aquariums, save with a few floating slowly, hanging on for Mr Choi’s happiness or the longevity of Jaemin’s work streak. He later finds out that fish float when sleeping.

“Jaemin, oh my god— the blue tin is the compost bin, and the green one is the fish food! I’ve told you about this two times, there’s even a fish sign on the green tin, how could you not tell?!” Jaemin might be tripping, but he swears he can see the bald patch on his boss’ head growing steadily.

Of course, now wouldn’t be the best time for him to point out scalp care remedies, and so he settles for the next best thing; “I thought the fish sign meant that they just…smell really bad…” Mr Choi now has his hand splayed across his face before he slowly goes to rub at his eyes, and nose bridge next, probably preventing a stress-induced nosebleed.

He points towards the front of the store, where the counter sits next to the door, finger jabbing up and down. Jaemin takes this as a sign to get some tissues from behind the counter, or his boss’ water bottle that always seems to have unlimited tea; but before he can even get back to him, with his eyes still close, in the softest tone Mr Choi says “... Out.”

He would’ve stopped his job hunting there, to be honest; but he’s in the last year of his course and is living with a roommate in a separate flat from his parents, which means he has to have at least some money to buy some necessities like groceries, much less pay rent.

He tells this much to Mark when he asks why Jaemin decided to work at a gym straight after working at a pet shop, and also what his resume looks like for people to still be keen to hire someone like him. He completely evades the second question, happily confiding in his friend about the job at a gym he picked up a week after being fired from sending the fishes into a food coma.

(“…Too soon?”

“Yeah, maybe a little bit.”)

And when Mark asks how Jaemin’s day was as a conversation starter, he vulnerably confides in him about losing his job again. This time working at a gym, he was assigned the task of giving out flyers and talking to people about why they would benefit from going to the gym, according to the outline he was provided in this big binder, the corner of the cover peeling off with age. While he was trying to promote the gym and give the discount flyers, he got into a long-winded conversation with this one old man who was talking about how the treadmill ‘fucked his knee up’, which had Jaemin thinking if treadmills existed in the 1980s.

They were five minutes into Jaemin searching the creation of gyms on Naver and the old man scolding him for not listening to a customer even though he was ‘not yet a customer because you haven’t accepted the flyer, now have you?’ when his supervisor comes out and yanks on Jaemin’s ‘employee in training’ lanyard from around his neck. Jaemin wasn’t sure what factor was the tipping point, but Mark thinks it was because he was on his phone during work hours.

“Or maybe the fact that you were stuck talking to someone likely to be the last person to ever sign up to a gym?” Mark is spinning his pen as he says this, looking up from his laptop screen towards Jaemin. Mark doesn’t even write his notes by hand, so it’s truly beyond him why he’s brought a high-class fountain pen to their study session at Jaemin’s, but that should be the last of his worries.

“Actually, they did have yoga and treadmill training for those aged sixty-five and above, so I wasn’t even targeting the wrong market.”

“Are you saying you’ve been wrongfully fired?” Mark sports an amused smile at Jaemin as if he’s laughing along with his joke; but that’s the problem, he wasn’t joking.

“Don’t laugh at my demise,” Jaemin smacks Mark’s arm, and he would feel bad at the wince that the latter lets out if he hadn’t been on the receiving end of his brutal laugh-hitting habit five out of seven times in the past week. Mark slowly halts his laughing fit when he sees Jaemin sulking, suddenly turning soft.

“Alright, you know what, here,” Mark fishes out his wallet as he says this, twisting and turning his bag on Jaemin’s bed. He gives the latter 10,000 won, waving his hand out towards Jaemin’s window. “Go ahead and get some snacks, my treat. And get me the watermelon-flavoured ice cream too?”

Jaemin scoffs. “You’re only doing this because you’re too lazy to get it yourself.” Mark’s smile is sheepish.

“Well, do you have 10,000 won to spare?” That shuts Jaemin up, as he snatches the notes out of Mark’s hand with a glare.

“When I do get 10,000 won, I’m making you eat the note,” Mark’s laugh is nervous as Jaemin marches out.

The cold hold of the ice cream contrasts the warmth in Jaemin’s hand, as the walk back to his unit proves to be a good remedy for taking a mental break from studying, as he decides to take a long way back; partially because the walk through Central parks is nice, but mainly because he wants Mark’s ice cream to have melted into a gross mush when he gets back.

Walking through the park, the rustle of the plastic bag and the tree branches are the only sounds echoing throughout, with Jaemin swinging his arm leisurely. The park is a circle shapen thread of grass with benches and pathways swirling around it, adorned with a children's playground in one corner, and the park's famous Yoshino cherry tree sitting right in the middle of the whole scene. The walk from the ice cream store back to his unit, the long way, requires Jaemin to walk through the park and the line of stores and restaurants in company with the park’s facilities. For as long as he’s lived here, three out of four of the store slots have been busy with business and traffic; all but one.

Unit store 1279 is infamous for dooming local businesses whenever someone applies for its lease. Jaemin has seen two restaurants and at least three cafes open and close, all with varying reasons for closing; the landlord is a nightmare to deal with, a corner of the store leaks something green but only when no one pays attention, and lastly about how there’s a ghost that lingers near the back door, sending cold shivers down staff and patrons alike when they pass through the door.

Out of all these rumours, Jaemin truly has yet to see one of them be proven true, the landlord was friendly enough to send welcoming flowers when each business would open; and close. He was keen to feel the shiver of the ghost's presence course through his body when he visited two openings ago but to no avail.

However, the reason why he finds the store so intriguing today is related to neither of those rumours; right on the glass door of the supposed vacant spot is an estate-sealed sticker adorned with bold letters spelling out “SOLD”. Not leased, but sold, with just below the official sticker being a recruitment post, a single slip of the business's phone number flapping in the light breeze.

We are looking for part-time staff. Starting rate at 25,000 won per hour. No prior experience is required.

Jaemin shifts from one foot to another as he eyes the piece of A4 paper taped to the door. Isn't this fate? A store opening right near where he lives, willing to accept someone with no experience, and the last slip of number is left? All while Mark’s ice cream is melting in his bag. This is the universe's calling if he knows of any.

Jaemin paces around the living room while Shotaro sits on the couch, head tilting left and right to the opposite rhythm of Jaemin’s paces as he tries to look past his whizzing figure and to the TV. If Shotaro had even a single mean bone in his body, he would ever so kindly tell Jaemin to stop pacing and maybe instead stand in one place, if he’s comfortable to of course. But as far as Jaemin is aware, he flinches at the sight of a fly, and is much less able to hurt one, so, of course, he doesn’t tell Jaemin to stop obscuring his vision, and instead turns to look at him, ignoring his show.

“Are you okay?” He asks, and Jaemin finally deflates, seeing this as an invitation to rant to his roommate. Plopping himself right next to Shotaro on the three-seated couch, he links their arms together by the elbow, needing something to ground himself.

“I wanna call this place and see if I can get a job, but I don’t know how to go about it; is there such a thing as a verbal resume?”

“You mean, an interview?” Shotaro provides, hand hovering slightly in the air as he contemplates patting Jaemin’s hand in comfort, but not for long as Jaemin separates them with a look of shock on his face.

“So that’s the word I was looking for?” He frowns to himself in contemplation, before sulking right back into Shotaro’s bicep. He doesn’t think they’ve passed the phases required to get this close to his former, but he’s too stressed about fucking up another job, and Shotaro seems to not mind this sort of interaction.

“If you find it so stressful to call them and have a phone interview, why don’t you send them a text?” Jaemin doesn’t know if this is truly coming from the goodness in his heart or if this is just something that everyone knows. Either way, the words put him at ease as he stands from the couch, patting Shotaro on the shoulder in thanks.

“You’re right! They didn’t specify their expectations; they just had phone number slips and a recruitment notice. You’re a genius Shotaro,” To that, the boy flushes with a shy smile on his face, but before Jaemin can hear him say something about how he didn’t do anything, and that he would love to help you even a little bit, Jaemin has headed off to his room and is curating a message to send.

To: +82 10-7854-4793

Hello, My name is Jaemin and I am interested in working in your establishment. When can I come in for an interview?

From: +82 10-7854-4793

Hello Jaemin. We are grateful for your enthusiasm, could you stop by next Thursday at 12 p.m at the Tao Village restaurant? Please bring a copy of your resume and provide a USB of a soft copy of said resume. We look forward to hearing from you.

To: Tao Village HR person (I think)

Yes I am available :) Thank you

Jaemin was not quite sure what is an appropriate outfit for when you want to be interviewed for a job as a waitress, but Shotaro’s eyes had dimmed just the slightest when he saw Jaemin step out of his room with jeans and a hoodie.

“Is that what you’re gonna wear?” His tone was far from condescending, even with the smile on his face, he looked more like a proud mom, but Jaemin could tell when his roommate may be slightly disappointed with a poor choice, so he had gone back and dressed up in some slacks he had and a polo shirt tucked in. he hopes he doesn’t see people he knows, or worse, Mark, because he knows he wouldn’t hear the end of it.

Now he’s situated in front of the store, the ‘sold’ sticker now nowhere to be seen and a light glow shining through from the glass door, but the sun shinning from outside obscures any other view Jaemin could peak from the inside, as he sees more of his own reflection instead. Hand clasped on a clear folder and a USB with his resume, he pats his head one last time before opening the door and stepping in.

He’s been inside this store a few times over the past few cafes and restaurants, and so he’s not surprised to be met with a whole new interior. On the contrary, he’s quite pleased with the choices that the current owner of the store has made, with the walls now an even slate with ivory-coloured paint instead of the rundown orange brick that the last restaurant had. There are tables and chairs fit for two, and a last one for six people uninformed from left to right, with a counter and a curtain obscuring what he assumes is the kitchen towards the end of the restaurant.

Jaemin was too enamoured with taking in the whole place that he had completely missed the mini counter situated a bit to his left, with you standing behind, confused as to why someone has came in to simply look at the interior design and not, well, the menu.

A clear of your throat startles Jaemin out of his daze, as he looks towards you with the initial look of annoyance before his expression melts.

She’s so pretty. What the fuck? Does she work here? Is this a needed requirement? Maybe Jaemin should’ve topped up with a bit of cologne or something to truly seal his spot, but before he could embarrass himself by very subtly going to smell his shirt, you start.

“Hi, welcome to Tao Village, how can I help you?” He’s not sure if you’re using a customer service voice on him but it proves to work as he immediately thinks of how sweet your voice sounds. But Jaemin doesn’t want you to think he’s a creep who follows pretty women around and ask for their number the minute they open their mouth (he was so, so, tempted to ask for yours), so he tries a better way to ease in.

“I need to…speak to your manager.” His strong voice startles you both, as your eyes widen a bit before you lean back from the counter, now wary.

‘Is…is everything okay? My manager is unavailable at the moment.” Your eyes flit back to the curtain, where Jaemin assumes the head of this whole place is at the moment. His brows furrow further as he looks down at his watch. Twelve p.m., on the dot like the person he had texted requested. There must be a mistake.

“No, I’m sure they’re here. Maybe somewhere at the back? I need to speak to them,” he’s not sure why he’s suddenly being so demanding (he suspects that it's the polo shirt he’s wearing) but he’s nervous and he doesn’t want to be rejected before he was even given a chance to prove himself.

“I’m sorry if I offended you in any way, sir,” You voice out, now leaning back with your hand situated on the ring button placed below the counter, in case of emergencies or to be able to call for backup from the back of the kitchen. You didn’t think that you’d use it this early, “Can I make it up to you or help you in any form?”

Before you get to ring the button or Jaemin gets to backtrack, the curtains pull back and out comes a man in his mid-twenties, wearing an apron and holding a… paintbrush?

“Is everything alright?” He drops the paintbrush into its respective tray before he steps closer towards the two of you. You point at a faint smear of paint that’s caught on his cheek, mentioning silently to rub it off. Still, when he gets the memo and goes to wipe it off, he ends up smearing it further into his skin, his expression not wavering from its seriousness. It’s when he does a one-over at Jaemin that it all clicks.

“Oh! You must be here for the interview.” He pats down on his apron as if checking his bearings. “Kun said he’ll be back by now; that’s alright, have a seat.” He offers one of the two-seater tables, as Jaemin shuffles his way onward to take a seat, plopping himself on the opposite side of who he assumes is the boss of this place, as he takes his apron off and goes to brush at his clothes, before taking a look at his stained hands and deciding otherwise.

“Thank you for coming, my name is Jaehyun and I’ll just give you a brief breakdown of this place,” Jaemin nods as he rubs his palms against his jeans, thinking about how much he truly knew about this job. Come to think of it, he has no clue what the job he’s applying for even entails, just that they need staff who don’t necessarily need any experience (Jaemin does have some experience, maybe not the right kind) and were willing to pay enough for him to be able to pay his rent and only eat instant noodles two times a week, instead of the standard eight.

“We’re called Tao Village, and we offer a range of Chinese cuisines. I run this place with Kun, who was the one that got in contact with you. Both he and I cook, so we’re always in the kitchen. I have my niece,” That’s when Jaehyun points at you, which you don’t hear as you set up cutlery on tables with your earphones in, completely tuned out. “But she needs help for when we get a bit busier, or when it’s closing time; I can’t stay back because I have to wake up early the next day for the stores' essentials. We can show you the ropes but so far I just need you to work from Friday till Sunday.” Jaemin does his best to listen and store the information, but he realises that Jaehyun’s waiting for his reply.

“Yes, that should be okay,” He gave a thumbs up and a tight-lipped smile, which he slowly brings down when he sees Jaehyun’s stare on his hand.

“Great,” Jaehyun claps, standing up and reaching for the apron he placed on his lap before wrapping it around himself. “Well, the official opening of this place is on Saturday. Come in on Friday and we’ll try to acquaint you with the basics.” With a clap on the shoulder and a grimace of a smile - can it even be considered one? - Jaehyun hands him a brochure-like menu of the restaurant, telling him that if he can memorise it as soon as possible it will be helpful.

You’re wiping down the counter when Jaemin stands to leave, and when he shoots you a barely-there smile, all you do is look away.

“You got another job?” Mark sounds surprised when he says this, and that puts Jaemin off, because, of course, he got another job.

“What was I supposed to do? Stay jobless and have Shotaro pay all the rent and food expenses?” Jaemin’s on laundry duty this week, and is being mindful of what colours are supposed to go together according to the laminated piece of paper Shotaro taped above the washing machine.

“Knowing him, he probably would offer to pay your uni fee too.” Mark tosses up a pair of bundled-up socks as he says this. “Wait, so where do you work now?”

“At the new restaurant, you know the haunted place just past the park?” Mark hums as he says this. “I’m a waitress, er, waiter there now. From Friday to Sunday. Which is good because I only have classes throughout the weekday.”

“And you barely get invited out during the weekends anyways,” Mark snickers as he says this, but misses catching the sock as Jaemin grabs a pair of used underwear and throws it directly at the boy, barely missing the undergarment as he looks at him wide-eyed. Words of ‘ew dude’ and ‘that’s gross’ goes into one ear and out the other as he picks the briefs back up and shoves them in the washing machine, closing its door and starting it off.

“Well, I have a good feeling about it this time,”

“Are you gonna blame the ghost for your- wait, did you put any detergent in?”

“ …Does it not come with detergent already?”

Jaemin picks a lint off of his shoulder, before smoothing his hand down his shirt and his pants next. He was told to wear an all-black attire, not sweatpants or hoods, so he stuck with a simple t-shirt and some black jeans. He doesn’t know why he’s exceptionally nervous this time when all the other times he was only caught praying to last more than a weeks worth of paycheck. For some reason, he’s not keen on crossing his boss this time - Jaehyun seems scary.

Stepping forward, his hands find the handle and with one deep breath, he pushes the door. Except it doesn’t budge.

He steps back and looks through the glass of the door, seeing if anyone is inside. When he doesn’t find anyone, he pushes once more, and one more time with all his body weight; yet it doesn’t budge.

“I swear they asked me to come in at four,” He fishes his phone out of his pocket, looking at the time while his face stays squished against the door. Not even a second later, he hears the click of the door unlocking, and before his reflex could take over and help him step back, he’s launched forward and onto the ground.

“Oh my god, are you okay? Why would you cling to the door like that?” Your voice reaches his ears as he’s situated on the floor, and he then realises that his fingers were latched onto the door handle when you pulled the door to let him in.

Your slack-covered knees come into his vision first, before your face enters his view, albeit upside down.

“You didn’t get a concussion from that alone, did you?” Sounding so serious, Jaemin couldn’t help but laugh slightly at your words as he pushes himself up to his elbows, brushing at his shirt before inspecting it for any dirt. So much for looking wanting to look presentable.

“Jaehyun’s not here yet, and Kun’s stepped out just then,” Jaemin realises this is the most he’s heard you speak since the first time he’s seen you, as he sees your standing figure reaches a hand out to him, offering to help him up. He gladly accepts it, but is mindful to not pull all his weight.

“Oh,” Is all he can muster, now sheepish at the fact that your second impression of him is not any better than the first. His eyes scan around the place as he finds new additions since last week, such as a few ink-wash paintings on the wall and paper lanterns lining down the ceiling instead of the LED lamps that Jaemin saw last. Even the staff counter looks more lived in compared to the glimpse he caught before, with what looks like a brand new electric kettle and two mugs with silicone lids, one with a peach and another with a bear as their handles.

Not knowing what else to say, his eyes seek yours for any sort of initiative; hoping that you will catch his gaze and give a smile, all while explaining to him the in’s and out of this place, like how should he take orders, if there’s a particular way to fold the tissues that are placed on the tables, and if the Fujian fried rice of this restaurant is the one with or without pumpkin. Simple details.

But you all but look back at him, instead you drop your gaze away from him entirely and go to the staff counter at the back of the restaurant, picking up and taking a look at the kettle before you go behind the curtains that lead to the kitchen, out of Jaemin’s sight. He’s not sure if he’s even allowed there as a rookie staff, so he doesn’t play with his luck and instead trudges behind the counter at the door. After a few minutes of poking and prodding at things like the card reader and a pen cup, the front door swings open and in comes a tall man with red hair, holding plastic bags full of an assortment of things from food to cutlery.

“Oh, you must be Jaemin,” Jaemin straightens his back at the mention of his name, nodding his head and bowing in lieu of a greeting. The man trudges through the restaurant, the bursting plastic bags bumping into the chairs every now and then, and not long after the door swings open once more to reveal Jaehyun.

“Jaemin! You’re,” He gives his watch a glance, “On time! How pleasant, come, have you met Kun? Let’s go into the kitchen first.” Jaehyun manages to say this all with an expressionless face, but Jaemin does not feel like he’s being condescending, following his now-boss silently through the restaurant, past the main staff counter and the curtains and into the kitchen. Boxes are perched on the metal counters of the restaurant’s kitchen, filled with what Jaemin guesses are the containers for the ingredients of the dishes, and some restaurant plates, as well as takeaway boxes and bags. You’re taking out the abundance of takeaway container lids from boxes that take up two-thirds of your height, stocking them up on the top shelf.

“Kun, have you met Jaemin? I’m not sure we’ve given him a proper tour of the place,” Jaemin doesn’t think he’s gotten any sort of tour of the whole place, so all he does is politely shake his head.

Kun grunts as he places another big box next to your unpacking figure, the impact of it barely making you flinch. He looks at Jaehyun before his gaze falls on Jaemin, and with a smile and a wave of his hand, he goes through the backdoor of the kitchen without looking back.

Jaemin is guided through the whole place, with Kun showing him the storage room and the cold room, which conveniently has a sliding door; the singular bathroom of the whole place, and the main part of the restaurant.

“You don’t need to prepare much for tomorrow, it says in your resume that you’ve worked in a lot of places for short amounts of time, which gives me the impression that you can pick up traits easily,” Jaemin delivers a stiff smile as he feels Kun clasp a friendly hand on his shoulder. “Me and Jaehyun will just tell you the way we work, but first I need you to help with the unpacking. Any questions?”

Jaemin nods his head, taking the chance to now ask his burning question. “Will I get paid for today?”

Kun just laughs and pats him twice on the shoulder, shaking his head and heading to the kitchen, shoulders bunching up now and then.

Tasked with the job of organising the cutlery, Jaemin places the metal spoons and forks into the cutlery tray placed next to the plates and bowls for setting up the tables. You’re here too, wiping down the window and the glass door, emitting any sort of stain. Jaemin tries his best to not let his gaze wander on for too long, wanting to be in your good books. From what it seems, you seem just as important as both Kun and Jaehyun, so he doesn’t want to risk doing anything wrong, or piss you off. He also thinks you’re really pretty and would like to ask you out, but that’s beside the point.

It’s when you’re getting up from wiping the bottom of the window when you hear the clatter of plastic. Turning around, your eyes widen when you see Jaemin and the plastic forks he was supposed to put away at his feet.

“I…” There goes Jaemin’s one and only chance. He isn’t even being paid for this and he’s gonna get fired, right in front of the person he was trying to rizz up, too. Before he can say anymore and save his reputation, you whizz past him and into the kitchen, the curtains flying around you but you’re mindful enough to shut them back, not letting the sight of Jaemin with a bunch of forks splayed around him like he’s being sacrificed to the fast-food culinary Gods. He hears Kun and Jaehyun’s voices coming through the curtains, variations of them asking if everything is alright, to which you answer with the clutter of pots and pans.

Coming back with a big metal bowl, Jaemin’s eyes widen as you kneel — for the second time today — at his legs, picking up the forks frantically and placing them in the metal basin.

“Are you gonna help?”

And now he’s on his knees too. Scooping up the forks and placing them in the bowl, once every single fork is off the floor, you rush towards the undermount sink at the corner of the staff counter just as footsteps echo from the kitchen and Jaheyun’s figure emerges.

“Is everything good?” Jaemin feels paralysed, unable to decipher anything since the doom he felt spilling all the single-use forks onto the floor.

“Yup,” You answer nonchalantly, filling up the basin full of forks with water and a few drops of dish soap. “Just thought to rinse these clean first before…” You pause for a second as you look at Jaemin, before trailing your gaze to Jaehyun with a smile. “Before Jaemin organises them.”

Jaehyun simply nods his head before he trudges back to the kitchen, and Jaemin barely gets to utter a ‘thank you’ before you walk past him and into the kitchen.

“So she just helped you? That simply?” Jaemin’s smile is all but smug, as he cracks open his beer and clinks it against Marks, both taking generous sips.

“What can I say? I charmed her with my natural skills,”

“The natural skills of messing things up,” Mark scoffs at him before leaning over to get a piece of fried chicken out of the takeout box. “She probably pitied you for making a rookie mistake.” He starts munching on the chicken and hums in delight, following it with a sip of his beer. Jaemin reaches to pick up a pickled radish.

“Well, rookie mistake or not, she likes me enough to help me. You should come to work tomorrow for the grand opening, and while you’re at it bring everyone else too; I swear she doesn’t even like people,” Mark laughs in delight at Jaemin’s invitation, promising to come up with something.

Mouth full, he asks, “How long do you think you’ll last?”

“Swallow your fucking food first before jetting all your spit at me dude,”

In the same black polo shirt, Jaemin steps in at noon, just like his boss number one (Kun) asked him to, while boss number two (Jaehyun) had emphasised that calling him this early is to ease him in easier into the culinary business. Jaemin doesn’t mind, he’s just glad that he’s being paid for today's work.

He greets you with a wave as soon as he gets in, to which you wave back before going to the kitchen and announcing his presence.

“Jaemin’s here now,” You come back out and stand at the staff counter, taking the kettle and filling it up with water to boil. Going behind the counter, he places his phone and earbuds into his pocket, remembering that they were prohibited unless he’s on his break. Once the water is boiled, you pour it into the two mugs Jaemin remembers seeing yesterday, before putting it back on its stand and taking the mugs back into the kitchen.

Jaemin simply fiddles around, not knowing what to do. It looks like his presence on Friday was needed to set things up, but now that it’s all done, he can only wait for a customer to walk or call in, or either one of you to give him a command; he’s weary this time ‘round to not fuck anything up.

Coming back out right behind Kun, you busy yourself at the counter next to the door while Kun comes up to Jaemin, patting him on the back.

“Don’t worry about doing much today, it’s just a soft opening and not a lot of people know about our business anyways. I’m just expecting maybe two or three takeaway orders and just a handful of tables. This could be a good chance for you to bond with each other, yeah?” But before Jaemin could take in the fact that Kun had wanted some sort of bonding to happen, his mind got caught on the words ‘soft opening’.

“Wait, so today’s only the …soft opening.” Careful with his tone, Jaemin tries to make it sound like he’s just restating a fact rather than being surprised. Kun is too busy drinking from his hot water to notice Jaemin’s nervous front.

“Yup, Jaehyun and I decided it would be best to have a grand opening maybe after we got to test the waters out.” He places the silicon lid with the bear cover back on his cup to retain the heat, and Jaemin really can’t help but feel like something bad is brewing. But before he could even voice out a word, the door to the restaurant opens with a bell resounding, and in swarm a pack of ten or so customers, and a blob that looks like Mark.

“Yoo, this place is quite neat,” Apparently it talks like Mark too.

Both shocked still with wide eyes, trying to make sense of where and how this many people all came together into the restaurant just minutes after the soft opening, Jaemin just hopes that nothing about Mark and what seems like a club he gathered from the university can be somehow linked back to him. It doesn’t seem like the universe is keen on taking his side, however, as he sees Mark’s eyes squint and searches around the restaurant, knowingly searching for him. Jaemin doesn’t know why he hasn’t tried looking at where the general staff area would be, like at the door or where he’s currently situated, but before he could duck to hide or face his impending doom, you miraculously step in.

“Hello, welcome to Tao Village, how can I help you?” You sport a kind but mute smile, hands clasped together politely.

“Yeah, can I have, like, a table or something?”

“Sure, for how many people?”

“Ooh! Good question… I think there’s like, ten of us at the moment.”

“Is it alright if I were to ask you to sit separately? Since you’re walking in, we didn’t have the opportunity to set up. Just in two groups of three and one table for four maybe?” Jaemin doesn’t know how you do it, but his shoulders sag when Mark gives you a thumbs up, going back to the group of people all loitering around the entrance, telling them that they will just break into subunits.

Kun has somehow slipped away without any notice, which left just Jaemin behind the counter for you to encounter when you head towards the bottled water in the fridge. “Can you help me with the water? I’ll take their orders and you can just follow along first,” With a nod of his head, you press the bottle into his hands, waving him off as you reach for a server notepad, writing down table numbers and heading to the tables.

With your presence and the two chefs busy in the kitchen, Jaemin doesn’t do much but avoid eye contact with Mark and listen to you pick up the scarce phone orders that come through; trying his best to learn how to pick up such skill. After the third time of the phone ringing and Jaemin staying in place, simply looking at you to pick up the phone, you pick it up and press the answer button, before pressing it against his ear and giving an encouraging nod.

It turns out to be a scam call, with the person on the other end attempting to sell Jaemin a double-doored fridge with a touch screen and dual ice and water dispenser, all while Jaemin tries to promote the restaurant.

“With the dual dispenser, you can fill your glass up with both water and ice at the same time so your water doesn’t go too cold on the first si-“

“The mapo tofu is a great dish to order, as tofu proves to be a primary source of iron, easily accessible and cheap with the rising price of meat.”

“…It’s a Samsung model which has been on limited release—“

“Do you want the food or not?”

(The telemarketer hesitates just a bit before stating that they’ll call another time.)

Nothing else happens, you two go to the kitchen whenever a sound of the bell ringing resounds, signalling that a dish is ready to be served, and Jaemin uses all of his brain power and logic skills to pick up dishes that are for tables that Mark isn't seated at.

He successfully gets to do all that is required of him and stealthily avoids Mark, silently celebrating as he sees you place fortune cookies at every table, signalling that it’s time for them to pay the bill and leave.

But of course, nothing good ever lasts.

“Jaemin, bro,” Mark must’ve been some assassin in his past life because Jaemin barely notices him creeping up to him until he’s already wrapped in a handshake and a bro hug. “Well done dude, you barely made a mistake today. Yo, the food was good too, you should bring back some of the Mongolian lambs every now and then, yeah? I’ll see you later,” And with two claps on his back, he’s fishing his pockets for spare change as he heads towards the front counter and near the door, finding a singular coin before placing it in your palm, smiling as if he’s single-handedly pulled you out of poverty.

“Your friend?” You murmur towards him, looking at the coin in distaste.

“Yeah, unfortunately so.”

“I can’t do it,” Jaemin is shaking his head and hands vehemently; making him feel even more sick than he was.

You roll your eyes at him, holding the restaurant's phone in your hand. “You have to start somewhere, you can’t just avoid it now and expect to be miraculously good one day. I swear once you learn how to pick up phone orders you’ll only want to do that.” You explain, before putting your free hand out, palm facing up, encouraging Jaemin to do the same. Once he follows, not without a lot of hesitation, of course, you gently place the phone in his hand, closing his fingers around it with two hands before giving it a light pat.

“Now,” You pick up Jaehyun's phone that's placed on the counter, dialling the restaurant's number before placing yourself on the other side of the restaurant to cease any echoes. “I’m gonna call and act like a customer, you try writing down the order details.” With a nod of his head, you press the dial and turn the other way around, opting to look away to make Jaemin less nervous.

With a deep breath in, he picks up. “Hi, welcome to Tao Village,” He pauses, looking at you for any sign of motivation, but continues when he notices you waiting. “What would you like to order?”

“Jaemin,” Your voice sounds in the dining area and not through the phone, as you turn slightly to look at him with the phone tucked into your chest. “Some customers might not order food straight away. Maybe try asking how you can be of assistance,”

“Hello, welcome to Tao Village restaurant. Uh, how can I help?” Jaemin tries again, to which you reply with a bunch of dish names, asking for the different types of sauces that come with the mixed vegetables, as he tries his best to answer with what he remembers and writes down the prices of each dish from the takeaway menu.

“Uh, okay. Is that, did you want anything else?”

“Nope, I’m good. What's the total?” Jaemin fumbles with the calculator, shoulders hunched over the counter, punching in the numbers and writing down the total on the piece of paper. “That would be around 38,000 won.”

“Are you sure?” This time your voice is right by his ear without the phone pressed against it, your arm brushing against his side. Jaemin doesn’t even have the time to be scared, distracted by the proximity of you two as you reach over and use the calculator.

“It came up to 42,000 won. Did you forget to calculate the buns?”

“Oh,” Jaemin splutters. “Maybe, my bad.” Although this all sounds so new to Jaemin, he doesn’t feel as overwhelmed as he thought he would; with every other job he had, there would be someone assigned to help Jaemin understand the ropes of the place, but everyone else would add something on too, like how folding clothes the ‘Marie Kondo way’ was is even more efficient, even if that defeats the whole purpose of displaying a t-shirt at a department store.

You coach him through the quirks one by one, not moving on until Jaemin shows that he’s somewhat picked up the action. It all feels like a dream come true, with you guiding him as if you know that he couldn’t last a week into his job without actually knowing that. He’s just not sure how effective it will be in the long run. And it turns out that he doesn’t need to wait long to find out, as the ringing of the phone echoes in the restaurant devoid of any noise except for the soft piano background music.

Nodding your head at him, Jaemin picks up the phone and only hesitates for half a ring before he presses accept, bringing the phone to his ear and repeating the welcome phrase. It all goes well, with the customer asking if they can make a phone order for pick up, to which Jaemin replies ‘Why yes, of course you may’, and the sound of a car door closing sounds through the phones speakers, and suddenly the quality of the customers' voice sounds like hot garbage as their phone connects to their cars’ bluetooth.

“Sorry, did you say you wanted mixed vegetables in rooster sauce? Sorry, we don’t offer— oh. Oyster sauce. Yup,” You look at him with a confused look on your face, curious as to why Jaemin can’t understand the person when everything was good. The furrow of your eyebrows and the scratching sound from the phone sets Jaemin off, as the customer mutters something about ‘how many times do I have to repeat myself?’.

Jaemin writes down what he can understand, writing down the name ‘Kai’ and giving the customer the estimated waiting time, before hanging up the phone.

“See, that wasn’t so bad,” You give him a pat on the shoulder, taking the slip of paper from his hand, wincing as you take a look at the scribbles writing of the dish names and their prices. “It’ll just go up from here. Hey, tell you what, why don’t you try remembering the ingredients of our fried rice, and see if you can differentiate between which one is the normal one and the special one without looking at the names, yeah? I’ll go help set up the ingredients for cooking these dishes,” And with one last tap, you disappear behind the curtains, taking a pen with you and correcting the mistakes before providing it to the two chefs.

You’re busy talking at a table of customers when the door swings open and in walks a customer, which leaves Jaemin to tend to them instead. With a customer service smile, he clears his throat and greets them.

“How can I help you?”

“Oh, I’m here to pick up an order. Under the name Kim I think? Sorry, I didn’t place the order but my dad did.” The woman scrolls through her phone as she says this, looking at what Jaemin guesses to be an exchange of texts between her and her dad. He ducks a bit to look at the dock under the table, where all the takeaways are brought and placed with the order slip attached to them with a piece of tape. He sees one with the name Kim and picks it up, removing the attached slip and placing it on top of the counter while the lady reaches for her wallet.

“Okay, uh, did you order the sweet and sour pork, with a large fried rice?” Jaemin reads off the food, a procedure you emphasised was important when dealing with takeaway orders. The lady nods, impatient as she swings her card around. He looks at the price at the end of the paper before punching it into the machine. Once the transaction goes through successfully and a receipt is printed, the woman quickly snatches the handle of the takeaway plastic bag and nods her head goodbye. Jaemin senses that something is wrong, off maybe even, and so he looks at the copy of the receipt and the contents of the order slip, looking at the other orders waiting at the dock and their contents and seeing that they all match their slips, and so with a shrug, he sets off to go back to the staff counter.

It isn’t until ten minutes pass that his wrongdoing was confirmed, as you call for his name from across the restaurant while sifting through the takeaway orders, a customer patiently looking over to see your interaction. He pulls up beside you, squatting down eye-level to the dock like you are before he whispers, “Did I do something wrong?”

“Where is the order for Kim? The one with the fried rice and sweet and sour pork? I remember bringing it here when it was packed at the back.” Jaemin feels his blood run cold at the mention of the order, a clear replay of his interaction with the woman coming in full blast.

“Oh… that…” At this, you pause your search and look at Jaemin, whose breath hitches at the short distance between your faces, courtesy of your crouched figures. You close your eyes, breathing in deeply to calm your nerves, before straightening up at lightning speed, knocking Jaemin over and onto the ground with an ‘oof’.

“Your order is still not ready yet, sorry for the inconvenience. I’ll go and check up on the progress, did you want to take a seat while you wait?” You smile at the customer, who nods back and says something about not minding the wait. You walk over Jaemin’s bent knees on the ground, going past him and into the kitchen.

He picks himself up quickly, making brief eye contact with the customer before looking at the curtains which you walked into. He’s doomed, you’re gonna tell Jaehyun and Kun about the mistake you made, and they’re gonna come out mad with their sleeves pulled up, ready to beat the shit out of him. He should’ve taken the self-defence class his mom recommended to him when he was twelve, maybe then he could do something to make the pain afterwards not hurt as much.

But before he could think about running out of the place with the bowl of fortune cookies (compensation for the beating that is due… possibly), you come back out, heading for the sink and filling up a glass of water while you place it on the table that the real Kim sits at.

“Shouldn’t be too long, they’re just finishing up on the sweet and sour pork. Here some water while you wait.” And now Jaemin is confused. He’s still on the floor of the restaurant with his brows furrowed and mouth hung open as if he’s gonna start throwing a temper tantrum. Your eyes widen ever so slightly when you catch a glimpse of him still on the ground where you left him, but your professionalism pushes through as you widen the smile on your face with a hum, before shuffling away towards his direction when the customer looks away. Pulling him up, Jaemin is only able to offer you a few murmurs of random words to voice his confusion.

“They’re making a new batch, I figured that someone provided a similar name and didn’t know the order details, which is why they accepted it. Don’t worry, they don’t know that you mixed it up,” Jaemin feels a sense of relief wash over him, looking at you with what he knows to be his puppy eyes; you make sure to look away.

“Isn’t it like, against the rules to not tell them?”

“Well, if you like rules so much, you can go ahead and take this takeaway order to the back and confess. Or you can split its payment with me and take what you like home. While you decide what to do, I’ll call the customer you gave the wrong order to and offer some apology coupon.” If it was professional to, Jaemin would give you the biggest head; but unfortunately, this isn’t the film industry, and so he sticks to the next best thing, which is to just look at you longingly.

In hindsight, five weeks have passed and Jaemin is still an employee of Tao Village, surpassing his longest streak of two weeks and five days at the retail store. Which calls for a celebration.

“To Jaemin,” Shotaro opens a can of beer with one hand, which truly impresses Jaemin, because he didn’t think that he knew what alcohol was, let alone drink it. “Who can finally pay his half of the rent on time,”

“You’re too nice, Shotaro,” Mark clinks his can against his and Jaemin’s at the toast, taking a sip. “I would’ve kicked him out as soon as he somehow disconnected the house's water system. You guys had to shower at the campus locker rooms for a week.”

Shotaro simply laughs as Jaemin lunges at Mark. “You don’t even live here, why do you keep coming? You should pay rent at this point too, fucker,”

Mark shoves at Jaemin’s face, which was really close to biting his shoulder, effectively avoiding a months-long bruise. He scooches away on the couch, leaning against the handle and sipping his beer. Jaemin picks up a piece of takeaway fried chicken, and it’s with his mouthful when Shotaro asks how he’s liking the place.

“It’s okay, it’s not too busy since it just opened and no one really knows of its existence. Except for when Mark brought a shitton of people on its soft opening day,”

“You told me it was the gran-”

“Anyway, thankfully I didn’t get into trouble for that. But I was close all the other times…”

Mark snorts while Shotaro mumbles something about how well Jaemin is doing. “What, did you do all the cliche mistakes?”

“Define cliche,” Jaemin speaks after taking another bite of the chicken, making Mark kick at his thigh lightly. “Like, did you spill red wine on a customer? Or break a plate, or write down the wrong order. You know, restaurant waiter cliches.” Jaemin ponders for a second at this, thinking back to his five weeks of employment at the place.

“Not quite…” He tilts his head in thought, but before he could follow it up with anything, Shotaro and Mark clink their drinks together from opposite sides of the couch.

“Then that means you’ve finally healed! Let’s celebrate while we can,” Mark and Shotaro both chug at their drinks, and Jaemin would be ecstatic to join if it weren’t for the fact that it’s only three pm in the afternoon. But also because he doesn’t think he can celebrate yet.

“Shotaro, did you know about this person Jaemin’s working with as well? He has a massive boner for her but like, they barely interact.” Shotaro chuckles at this, glancing at Jaemin whose face is now red as he stumbles for an excuse.

“She must be really nice if you like her; does she help you around a lot?” Shotaro questions, making Jaemin flush even more.

“If only you knew,”

He picks up a carton of Sprite from the ground of the cold room, goosebumps erupt all over his forearms as Jaemin hurries out of the place, closing the door shut with his foot. Shuffling past the two chefs cooking and back into the dining area, he briefly searches for you before he finds you at the basin at the staff counter, washing the used cups.

“I brought the carton,” He announces, making you turn around.

“Thanks, do you mind placing it here? You can open the carton but be careful when you put it at the edge, it can spill out.” Your fingers are covered in sud as you point at the counter next to you. With a nod of his head, he perches the carton on the counter, half of it hanging out with the cluster of items placed, not providing enough room. As he gently prods open the cardboard packaging, he glances at you, back facing him as you lather the cups in soap one by one. Before he could continue with his task with his newfound motivation (your existence), you lean over and open the door to the mini glasswasher, backing up against him as you place the cups in.

He averts his gaze quickly, eyes wide from seeing you bend over like that, not wanting to lose his feminist streak from letting his mind wander so easily. As he continues to prod at the Sprite container, he feels the briefest brush of your legs against his, and he completely splutters, accidentally hooking his finger at the opening of the carton and ripping it open, making all the cans stacked against each other topple out and over the edge of the counter, one by one making an impact with the floor.

With a screech and a poor attempt of stopping the cans in motion, he squats to make it to the cans before they fully fall to the floor. But it seems like, yet again, the universe is not on his side, because not only does he fail to catch most of the descending drinks, the bridge of his nose makes contact with the edge of the counter, making him join the cans on the floor.

“Oh my god,” You’re shocked by the view in front of you, like some sort of twisted Renaissance painting. You reach down, and just as Jaemin is about to tell you not to worry about him, and that he can just die a beautiful death with the cans surrounding him, you pick up the fallen cans, inspecting them for any damage.

“You’re lucky none of these popped open, the floor would be sticky for days,” You mutter as you place the cans back on top of the counter, separating the ones that turned out fine and the dented ones. All the while Jaemin lies there, his nose throbbing, contemplating how he’s lasted here so far.

“Aren’t you gonna tell them?” He closes his eyes as he gently presses his cold fingers against his nose bridge, soothing the pain. The answer seems to be an obvious ‘yes’ if your lack of reply is anything to go by. A few seconds pass and he feels the cold contact of a can replacing where his hands were on his features, and when he opens his eyes, he sees your face above his, inspecting him.

“What is there to say? That you’re on the ground fighting against a nosebleed?” You taunt, removing the can and inspecting the spot with the gentle press of your fingers. Grabbing his hand and opening his palm, you place the dented can you used gesturing to his face.

“You can drink it once you’re done, they won’t notice,” Jaemin sits up as you say this, bringing the can up to his nose, pressing the cold against it as he watches you go back to turning on the machine and walking away, tending to other restaurant responsibilities.

Notepad and pen in hand, Jaemin walks to the table that raised their hand at him and delivers his best customer service smile. “Hello, welcome back to Tao. Would you like to order?” You had given Jaemin the heads up to look after this table exclusively.

“They’re this group of ladies that have nothing to do but spend their significant others’ money. They come like, almost every second day; something about wanting to support local businesses. And they give generous tips. No one does that.” You sigh. “I wish I had that much free time.”

The women smile at him, seemingly charmed. Jaemin knows the power he holds, and he also knows that if he bunches up his cheeks just right, he can have any woman over the age of fifty want to pinch them.

“What a charismatic boy,” one of them comments, and he blinks his eyes and tilts his head, smile still on his face feeling just slightly strained as he politely rejects the compliment, feigning humility.

“Okay, well can we start our entrees with a set of fried dim sims and spring rolls, and for the main course we’ll have the mapo tofu, fried rice— did you say you wanted Hokkien mee? One of those too please, and a serving of mixed vegetables with oyster sauce and chicken chow mien. No mushrooms for either, please. And for drinks, we’ll just have three tsingtao’s and one glass of Shiraz.” The woman drones, and Jaemin has a bit of difficulty catching up and writing down all the dishes she’s named, and so he repeats it all back once it’s done; a practice heavily encouraged by you.

When Jaemin finishes listing the dishes back and receives four nodding heads, he smiles in thanks and head’s to the kitchen, yelling out ‘New order!’ for the chefs to be aware of. Coming back out and placing a copy of the notepad at the staff counter, his smile turns genuine when he sees you, showcasing two thumbs up.

Now bashful, he says “I think I’ve replaced you as ‘favourite waiter’ now.” His smile is cheeky as he says this, with you rolling your eyes, pointing at the fridge near the counter instead. “Stop spewing bullshit and get the drinks ready. I’ll write down the prices of each dish.” With a salute and nod of his head, he goes to fetch the drinks from the fridge and the bottle of red wine nearby, as well as an empty wine glass. Preparing the drinks, your shoulders brush against each other in the tight space of the staff counter, with you looking back and forth between the menu and the order slip. Jaemin misses when your eyebrows furrow together, inspecting the slip for something.

“Uhm, Jaemin,” He hums back in response, eyes still focused on pouring no more than one standard drink of the wine. “Did you tell the kitchen that this is the table with a mushroom allergy?”

Jaemin’s heart drops to his ass.

His posture straightens immediately, vision zeroing in on the table he just took the order of, as his head slowly turns to you, a million thoughts run around in his head. With the expression he sports, you quickly grab a pen and a highlighter, running back into the kitchen as quickly as possible. Scanning the restaurant, when he sees all the customers occupied, he slowly slips away and into the kitchen, leaving them unattended to somehow save his ass, and from a possible murder case.

“—do you mean there’s a mushroom allergy? And why did none of you tell us? Of course the mixed vegetables and chow mien have vegetables in them.” Kun speaks as he cooks on the wok, lifting it every now and then as the clang of his wok’s spatula echoes out, mixing around the satay chicken.

“He wrote it down but just forgot to say it out loud,” You bluff, pointing at the copy of the slip that Jaemin brought back into the kitchen, now adorning the words ‘NO MUSHROOM’ in bold, highlighted letters at the top. Your other hand is clasped behind your back, holding the pen and highlighter. Jaehyun momentarily stops making his fried rice, coming up to the counter, and looking at you over it before snatching the slip, his aggressive manner making Jaemin wince slightly.

With a poor squint of his eyes, you and Jaemin wait with bated breaths for him to somehow finish reading the two words. When his eyes stop squinting, he spares a look at both you and Jaemin, placing the slip back down onto the counter before reaching into the bowl containing the ingredients for the dishes, fishing out the mushrooms and putting them back from where he originally picked them up, waving you both off. And you barely waste any time, muttering a sorry and going towards the curtains, pushing Jaemin out with you.

“Sorry. Thank you.” He doesn’t know what else to say, looking at you while you ignore his gaze so close to your face, centring him back to the staff counter. You shake your head and hand at him as if to say that he has nothing to be sorry about.

“Mistakes happen. Now can you put the puppy eyes away? We have a new customer to serve.”

“I’m not that stupid to bel— Hi, welcome to Tao Village. How can I help you?”

“Jaemin, do you think you could give the Chardonnay to table three? It’s for the man with the glasses,” You ask as you calculate the total of a takeaway order you just took, glancing at him to see if he’s available.

“Sure,” It turns out that you’ve already set out the glass and the bottle, as he opens the cap and pours it in, before taking a tray and placing the glass on it. You’ve taught him a few times to hold the tray with one hand, but he’s taking it slow and only using a single hand with drinks and sauces that he’s asked to deliver, not wanting to be too ambitious. Balancing it, he eyes for table number three and said man with glasses, strategically planning to swiftly arrive and deliver the drink.

As he waltz’s his way through, with his vision zeroed in on the customer, he completely misses the lady at the table before wanting to get out of her chair, completely skidding it across the floor and making an impact on Jaemin’s side.

Everything is suddenly carried out in slow motion, as he sees the fright on the woman's face, the tilt of his body and tray towards the customer settled on the table, the white wine toppling over the rim of the glass. If he retains his focus, maybe he can slow-mo recover and balance himself, only causing the wine to spill on the ground and maybe himself. He is willing to sacrifice his (Shotaro’s) black t-shirt.

Then he blinks.

A groan echoes and silent gasps are spilt, as he opens his eyes and sees first the man drenched in white wine, and Jaemin’s hand on his arm, balancing himself. Before he could even separate himself and apologise profusely, he is suddenly grabbed by the collar, and in his head, he’s already commemorating the lovely memories he’s made here with you and mourns how quickly he has to abandon the delusion that you two will end up together.

With one eye squeezed close, he’s not sure if it’s better to expect a punch or a slap against his face, but before he can anticipate either, he hears someone say “Excuse me, sir,”

“What do you want,” The man snarls at you, as you make eye contact with him, a silent customer-service-smile sported on your face as always.

“Apologies sir, but we don’t accept this sort of behaviour in our restaurant. Violence is not part of our values. I do ask of you to let out staff member go, you’re scaring him.” Jaemin can’t help but nod his head at the man, who glares at him before letting him go and jamming a finger into Jaemin’s chest.

“This boy spilt my drink all over me, how is that a part of your values?” He yells, making Jaemin wince at the loud volume, but you merely blink, stepping forward and closer to the customer, lowering your voice in an attempt to get him to soften his, too.

“I’m sorry for the inconvenience caused sir, but this sort of behaviour is not tolerated. If you would allow our staff to apologise and we’ll-”

The customer scoffs, “Apologise? An apology isn’t gonna fix the stain caused on my shirt. Isn’t the customer always right? Who the fuck are you to speak to me like this,” He shoves you at your shoulder as he says this, causing you to stumble back into Jaemin’s figure, whose arms shoot out and hold you by the waist.

The curtains leading to the kitchen skid aside, and out steps Jaehyun. It all feels so dramatic if Jaemin were to look at it from a perspective of an outsider, as Jaehyun walks over to you three, his figure looming over all of you.

His smile is blinding, dimples forming on both his cheeks as he clasps his hands together. “Out,” Is all he says, hand now facing the door of the restaurant.

The man blanches. “But—”

Jaehyun merely shakes his head in a stern manner, smile suddenly dropping, pursing his lips as if taunting a child. Without making contact with the customer, he guides him gently towards the door, before the man gets the memo and stomps his way out. Jaehyun turns to the remaining customers at the table, providing a formal apology and confiding in them that they simply don’t tolerate this sort of behaviour towards their staff.

“Would you like to pack away your remaining food? You can pay at the counter just at the front, thank you for your understanding and apologies for the inconvenience,” And with that, he steps back into the kitchen, curtains shutting close as if they barely jostled. As you and Jaemin pick up the plates and pack the food into takeaway containers, Jaemin slowly approaches you, his arm brushing against yours.

“Are you okay,” He asks, voice solemn. It never feels nice to get yelled at by a customer, Jaemin’s just used to it, but he forgets that it can take a toll on different people.

Your smile is shy, barely looking in his direction as you click to close the lid of the container, grabbing both of your containers before placing them in a takeaway bag. “Yeah, I’m okay.” without a second glance, you walk to the front counter, giving the bag to the customer as well as the receipt.

“Can you two close up? Kun and I have to get up early tomorrow to make it to the fish market before the good quality scallops all sell out.” Jaehyun says this later in the day, as he folds his apron and places it on the staff counter. “I’ve already mopped the back. Do you have the keys?” He looks at you as he says this, to which you nod and give a thumbs up. With a nod of his head, he goes through the back door of the restaurant, leaving you two alone. Jaemin mops as you wipe the tables clean, preparing them to be set up once again tomorrow. Silence engulfs you two, with the only sounds being the slosh of the mop in the bucket and the scrape of chairs as you manoeuvre around them.

Jaemin decides that this is a good time to speak up. “Thank you for doing that,” He continues pumping the mop into the drainer part of the bucket, removing all excess water before plopping it back down. “I wouldn’t have minded if he had smacked me,” At this you laugh, cheeks bunching up cutely making Jaemin’s heart flutter.

“Did you want him to smack you?” You look into his eyes this time, the lights of the restaurant reflecting in your iris’. Jaemin thinks he could get used to this.

“Are you kink-shaming me? I doubt that’s allowed within the Tao VIllage values,”

“I’m not too sure. Hey, why don't we talk to the boss about it tomorrow?”

Jaemin’s grin is cheshire-like, “Wouldn't be the worst conversation I’d have,” At that you raise an eyebrow, to which he throws a wink. A comfortable silence engulfs the two of you, as you continue with your tasks, working around one another and you avoid the places Jaemin has freshly mopped while he manoeuvres himself around you.

It’s when you’re outside of the place and locking the doors, sizing up and down the door to put all the locks in place when you speak up. “You don’t have to thank me, by the way. People make mistakes, and Jaehyun would be less mad at me than at you. Plus, Kun doesn’t care like that either, as long as he can run this business, you can break as many cartons of drinks as you desire,” Looking over your shoulder, you catch Jaemin gazing at you, the same puppy eyes leering at you. Looking away, you pick up your stuff from the ground, wanting to bid him goodbye and completely disappear, maybe quit this job and move countries and settle down with a farming family of seven that don’t mind an additional one person to work their fields and pet their cows as a form of cattle therapy. Anything but face Jaemin’s face abd his ridiculously handsome features.

But before you could begin your progress, Jaemin calls out your name, making you turn around to face him once more. Thankfully, there’s no sign of the puppy eyes, but he is smiling.

“Since it’s a Sunday and we have a day off tomorrow, do you want to grab some food with me?”

The warmth from the broth and fishcake in your cup seeps into your hand, preventing them from getting too cold in the Autumn breeze. Jaemin counts his notes under the red and yellow haze of the fishcake stall, handing them to the old lady once he collects the right amount. The woman snatches the notes once Jaemin presents them and counts them twice, nodding her head in dismissal when she’s done.

Picking up his cup, the two of you manoeuvre yourself around the park and settle on a free bench, looking out into the lit-up park, with parents and kids at the playground while adults settle their picnic mats and huddle around near the fairy-lit trees; the Central park seems to be teeming with more people with the sudden shift of seasons, as people embrace the coming cold by celebrating in their own ways. Kids scream at the top of their lungs when sliding down a steep slide, and adults teem with laughter as they swish their wine in their plastic glasses.

Picking out a stick of fishcake from the cup full of broth, you blow on it a few times before biting into it, settling into the park bench more comfortably as the warmth of the food engulfs you. Excluding the bustle of people, you and Jaemin sit quietly as you indulge in your food.

But the silence doesn’t last long. “I don’t know how kids are so agile at such a young age. Like, aren’t their bones basically jelly?” Jaemin points at the few kids climbing up ropes at the playground, taking them to a tall slide as a reward.

“It doesn’t look too hard,” You quip, head leaning closer to Jaemin as you look at the kids climbing up vicariously. Jaemin turns to look at you, making you realise just how close you leaned in. “You think you could climb that?”

“At my age? Easy,” You scoff, leaning back and away, now feeling more flustered. If Jaemin catches on to your behaviour, he doesn’t make it obvious, sipping on the broth in his cup and opting to ask you about your favourite playground equipment.

“Thank you for the fishcakes,” You pat your stomach, smiling at your coworker.

“Of course,” He rocks back and forth on his heels the two of you standing at the edge of the park, ready to part ways. “I can never have a pretty girl like you be deprived of such Autumn goodness,” Jaemin teems at you as he says this, ready to receive some sort of backlash for his behaviour.

Imagine his surprise when you slightly guffaw, before stopping yourself with a hand to your mouth and a straight face. “If you think I’m so pretty,” You start as you turn around, slowly beginning the walk back to your house. “You would do more than just buy me a 3,000 won snack; I think pretty girls like me deserve more. No?” And with a wave, you continue your walk, leaving Jaemin with wide eyes and a slightly concerning grip on his cup.

It’s been eight weeks since Jaemin started working at Tao Village as a waiter, and he hasn’t known peace throughout.

It’s not that the pay is bad, or that the people around him treat him terribly. The pay is generous enough and as rarely as he sees Kun and Jaehyun on his shift, even if they’re a curtain width away from him, they’re nice and give him a container of food after every shift. And you’re an angel on earth, helping him whenever he fucks something up, and saving his ass nearly six times since he’s started working here.

The problem is that he makes those mistakes. And he has to go out of his way to not make these mistakes, and after every shift he feels like he’s worked five days with no break when in reality he just had a five-hour shift and a very generous thirty-minute break, eating hot and sour soup while you tell him about the weird customers you’ve encountered, asking him to rank them from most to least smashable with the details given from your anecdote.

Speaking of you, he thinks you're the epitome of his worries. Ever since he slipped up and basically confessed to thinking you’re attractive, you’ve been tormenting him, torturing even. If he were to tell you this, you would deny it all. And of course you would, because—

“I’m not doing anything,” You reply when Jaemin asks what you’re doing with the order slip that he’s just written down on. With a pen in your hand and a separate order slip, you’re copying down everything word for word instead of just taking Jaemin’s one to the back like normal.

“Yes, you are. Why are you making a copy of my slip— Are you ripping it to pieces?!” Jaemin shrieks, which catches the attention of the patrons in the restaurant, earning him a light smack against his arm.

You sigh, “Look, Jaehyun doesn’t like it sometimes when the slip looks too messy. There’s already a lot of oil and water being splattered on these poor things the minute they go past the curtain.” You shake the paper in your hand. Not wanting to hurt his feelings, you grab Jaemin’s hand, not looking at his face in case he’s flashing those eyes again. Jokes on you, because he’s also blushing, so you’re doing him a favour.

“Your handwriting isn’t messy, they’re just used to mine. I don’t want them to make a fuss over nothing,” You pat his hand and head to the back, not before reminding him to check on table number seven.

Looking at his left hand, the hand which you grasped hours ago, he holds it to his chest and prays to whatever holds power to keep him strong. He doesn’t know if you’re doing these things on purpose, or if he just has a weak heart.

“You barely go out of your room, so I’d say the second option is more likely.” Mark quips, tilting his body to the same side that his kart skids in the game. Jaemin lies down on his bed arm slung over his eyes as Mark plays on his console.

“Am I just due for a good fuck? Is that why I’m basically busting whenever she brushes past me?”

“Yo,” Mark sounds concerned now. “Brushes past you? Like, it’s just the accidental skinship that makes you horny?”

Jaemin sits up now, wanting to prove himself innocent despite the words he uttered just seconds ago. “You have to understand, I think she’s doing it on purpose.”

“I’ve seen your place Jaemin. The staff counter seems like a tight fit, I don’t know how she can be doing these things on purpose.” Jaemin huffs at that, falling back onto his bed again. He doesn’t know how to explain to his best friend that he isn’t delusional, so he just mutters a ‘whatever’ and tries tickling him, wanting him to lose the game and get last place.

“Yup, your order is just right here. So it’s just the large special frie—” His voice gets stuck in his throat repeating back the order to the customer when he feels a figure pressed up against his back, and with a glance to the side he sees you leering over, looking at the slip he holds in his hand. When he makes eye contact with you, you barely give back a nod of your head, encouraging him to continue reading.

“Sorry. Uhm, just the large special fried rice, and two servings of the spring rolls,” You lean in even more, and Jaemin can only thank the great heavens above for the bit of privacy that the takeaway counter provides. He feels the plush of your breasts pressing against him, leaning against him while you reach over below the counter to some pens, opening the notebook of table reservations and writing in a new booking.

He only messes up putting in the total price of the order twice on the machine, before the customer picks up his food, leaving you two behind the counter. Just as he’s about to turn around and say something, you separate yourself from him, patting him on his shoulder and closing the notebook shut.

The first thing he does is find his bearings, as he clutches a hand at his chest, then his neck, and lastly his ears, feeling how hot they were. Next, he has to somehow find a way to see if he just made that whole scenario up. Looking at where you now were, which was at a table, conversing with a customer, he was a few seconds away from losing his mind. But his thoughts were confirmed when you glanced a look at him, the corner of your lips lifting ever so slightly before you continue speaking to the table.

Jaemin doesn’t know how long he can last.

He now knows how long he can last.

Unsurprisingly, it’s not long at all. He doesn’t know if what you’re doing is on purpose, or he’s just infatuated with you enough to now notice these things, but all he can blame it on is the fact that it’s been some time since he last got laid, and so that’s why he’s getting flustered by your proximity these days.

But he also thinks that you might be doing some things on purpose; like squeezing past him in the tight margin of the staff counter to wipe some inconspicuous water stain, bodies brushing against each other in a tight squeeze, or inspecting his hand for too long after he’s delivered a sizzling plate of Mongolian lamb to the table, in search for an injury you both know is not there if he hasn’t already blatantly dropped the whole dish onto the table. Or that one time when you both went to the cold room, with him reaching up for the carton of beers while you kneel to get the soft drinks, side to side. You had momentarily lost your balance while pulling out the boxes from the back, resulting in your hand clutching at his pants, wanting to regain your balance.

“Oh, sorry,” Your words are a clear contrast between your actions, as your hands linger on for longer, lashes fluttering when you look up at him, the light of the cold room twinkling in your eyes. Jaemin swears he feels your hands squeeze ever so slightly before you let go, shuffling out of the room with a carton tucked by your side.

He doesn’t know how to confront you about it; it’s not that he doesn’t enjoy the sudden burst of attention he’s receiving from you, it’s just that it’s both not enough and too much. He wants more but he doesn’t want to risk popping a boner while taking a sixty-year-old woman’s order.

Every time he thinks he’s got you cornered, something always comes along to save you, like the call of a customer, or Kun coming through the curtains to get some hot water, even though his sightings are as common as blue moons.

So when Jaehyun asks you two to restock some of the items into the storage room as a part of your closing shift, Jaemin thinks the opportunity is basically being graced into the palm of his hands.

“The stuff might be a bit heavy, so be careful with your posture when picking up the boxes,” Jaehyun tuts, scrubbing his wok clean. “And remember to lodge something between the door, it still gets stuck from the inside. Don’t go home too late, but also don’t half-ass things as well.” Jaemin almost shivers when he hears her mom echoing back the same things to him in his head.

“Jaemin, do you know that door wedge we have at the back? You can use that, sometimes even I forget. Kun’s trying his best with the handle.” He steps over the freshly mopped places, going past and at the cashier, placing your tips in your dedicated storage boxes.

“Okay we get it Jaehyun, but if you keep speaking we won’t be done unti—” The front door shuts before you can finish what you were saying, but you only let out a light sigh before finishing up with the mopping, with Jaemin drying the cutlery with a towel.

“I’m gonna start with the boxes first,” Jaemin nods his head at you, seeing you go through the back door and towards the storage room. Jaehyun and Kun were kind enough to place a few boxes inside, but there were some still littered outside.

When a few minutes pass and Jaemin is all done, he still sees the extra boxes outside, not having moved a bit. He calls for your name, just to see if you’re back there.

“Yeah, I’m here, just—” You grunt, balancing the box on your knee as you take its contents out, placing them on the shelf. “Trying to sort this. Can you help me with the boxes outside? Be careful with the door, I have my shoe lodged there.” Jaemin rolls his eyes at the third reminder of the day, before shutting the lights off from inside the restaurant and picking up the boxes near the door, stacking them on top to only use one trip to the storage room. The light from within shines a silver lining across the now dimmed restaurant, as Jaemin nudges the door open with his leg, careful to avoid your shoe as you had advised.

He places the boxes down with a groan, straightening up and stretching his back. “That was a piece of cake,” He smiles cheekily at you, to which you barely react, handing him the box you were balancing, opting to take the items out from his hands, making the process more efficient.

“Are you having fun?” Jaemin speaks again, not letting the silence between you two stretch out for too long.

“With putting these things away? Not exactly my definition of fun,” You look at him questioningly, picking up another item while glancing at him.

“Not with the packages,” He shakes the one in his hand for emphasis. “I meant ever since that night at the park, where I called you cute—”

“Pretty,” You mutter, and the word slightly shocks you both, as Jaemin sees your shoulders stiffen. You have been doing everything on purpose, because you, too, put some meaning into his attempts.

“You keeping tally on how I compliment you?” putting the box down, he opts to look at your face as he says this. It’s not every day that he gets to tease you like this, so he uses this opportunity to rile you up a bit as you do to him, body inching closer to yours.

You feel the heat radiating off of him and onto your back, as you place down the last item in your hand on the shelf and turn around, only to be startled at the proximity of you two, Jaemin inching closer with the box discarded at the side. This close to him, your eyes tilt up to look at his, mischievous iris’ grinning back at you.

“I don’t…” Jaemin’s eyes glance at your lips as you start, parted open now as your mind blanks on what to say next. The distance between your bodies shortens, and you feel yourself craving for something. A simple touch of his hand at your sides, the heat of his breath at your cheek, the soft push of his lips against yours.

Your tongue brushes the corner of your lip at that thought, an action Jaemin can’t miss with how close you two are.

“You don’t? Don’t what, don’t know what I’m talking about? Finish your sentence pretty,” Jaemin’s hand raises, and your chest flutters at the anticipation of his touch, only for it to deplete when he places it on the wall beside your shoulder, getting closer and closer.

You want to scream, needing him to just do something, anything, but your body still inches back, wanting to see how far either of you can prolong this. Jaemin notices your game, leaning his head in and bringing his lips to your ear.

“Tell me what you want. I’ll do anything for you, just gotta have you use your words, baby.” At this your eyes flutter, fists clenching at your sides to gather up the courage as his warm breath fans against your neck.

“Can you kiss me?” Your eyes look at his as you push his body back by his shoulders, wanting to look at him as you ask for him, for more. Smile slowly softening, he leans in and places a peck onto your lips, plush skin pressed against you, both of your eyes closing shut. Before you get to do anything else, he parts back slowly, seemingly done. But you’ve barely even started.

“More,” You mutter before placing your arms around his shoulders, pushing both of you closer to one another as you lean in, kissing his lips once again, catching him by surprise. His lips are only still for a split second, before he reciprocates, pushing against you, giving you exactly what you asked for.

“Your hands, please,” You mutter in between as they slowly turn from innocent pecks to open-mouthed kisses, your own hands coming to his biceps, wanting him to touch you.

“Where, baby?” He sighs against you, hands grasping yours, ready to be guided.

“Everywhere,” You clasp your hands together, before grabbing his wrists, placing one at your waist and the other underneath your boob, arching your back in encouragement and contempt of finally having him closer. And Jaemin listens well, hands squeezing and thumbing at your body over your clothes skin, before roaming them around. Slithering one behind your back, pushing your body flush against his, chests brushing as he rushes to kiss you more, lips pressing against you feverishly. Your arms wrap around his neck and shoulders, wanting your boobs to be pressed against him fully, nipples perked with arousal from him, having the both of you pushed back and against the wall as he follows your lead of wanting to be all over each other.

Except walls don’t click shut.

But Jaemin either doesn’t notice or pays it no mind, continuing his quest of ravaging your lips, not that you mind, as he squeezes the flesh of your boob and brushes a finger over your clothed nipples, biting lightly onto your bottom lip as your mouth parts slightly from the pleasure, soothing it with a swipe of his tongue.

“Jaemin,” You try calling for him, voice coming out a bit hoarse as you pull back slightly. He takes that as a sign to venture more.

“What is it, hmm? Want me to go lower?” He doesn’t wait for your reply as he angles his head down towards your neck, breath tickling against your skin as he nips at it lightly.

“No, Jaemin. There’s—” He chuckles at you, looking into your eyes with a smirk now adorning his face. He raises his eyebrows at you while he scans your body pressed against his, and that shouldn’t affect you as much as it did.

“What, does my pretty baby want more?” his smile now turns slightly giddy, placing a sweet kiss on your lips before bringing both hands to your sides, squeezing slightly making you react to the sensitive spot being handled. “I can’t fuck you here, as much as I’d love to. But I don’t wanna be looking at a box of fortune cookies—”

“Jaemin, we just closed the door.” And you physically see Jaemin react to this, as he processes your words with a confused look, before the light in his eyes dims and his face falls, looking frantically between you and the door behind you. He searches at the bottom of the door where you had lodged your shoe, only to see it past the frame, squeezed from the pressure of your bodies against the door.

He’s about to apologise profusely, mind scrambling to think of a way he can get you two out. But before he can get too far, you plant a kiss on his cheek, and another one on his lips when he turns his head to look at you. You let out a light sigh as his hands find themselves back onto your body, pushing your hands towards his jacket, wanting it off. He shucks it off and throws it behind, hands grabbing at you again as you bring your fingers to rake at the hair at his neck.

“But—” Jaemin cuts himself off with a whimper when your hand grazes under his shirt, the cold press of your fingers against his warm stomach, fingers splaying themselves against his taut muscles, grazing your nails lightly making his body flush even further.

“Fuck, the door,” He tries again, but falls short as his head falls against your shoulder when your fingers linger past the seam of his pants.

“Later, I need to feel you,” You mutter. “Someone will come by tomorrow morning anyway,”

“Oh, fuck.” Jaemin curses as you palm his dick over his pants, his hips bucking up and into your touch, wanting more of you against him. His hand pushes your shirt up, tucking it before he slips his fingers behind your back, reaching for your bra and taking it off once the hooks are undone. His hands cup at your boobs, vision glazed over you as he squeezes them together. He leans in with his mouth parted, looking up at you and making eye contact, whining slightly in lieu of asking for your permission. It’s hard to wait for your word when he’s just as desperate, wanting your touch and scent all over him.

“Jaemin, please,” You pant, hand flying to his hair and gripping softly, scratching your fingers against his scalp as an initiative. “Make me feel good, I want your mouth on me,”

He swipes his tongue against your perked bud, before blowing lightly and saying “Anything for my doll,” mouthing at your breast, before closing his lips around your nipple, sucking in as his free hand occupies itself with your other boob, slightly scraping his nail against you before pinching your tit. The pain and pleasure shoots through your body, as you moan his name, nails scratching his head.

Your whimpers and whines turn Jaemin on even more, as he swipes at your bud one last time before pulling back, tipping your face back towards him and kissing you again.

“Want your fingers…been thinking about this so much,” You reach for one of his hands, guiding him to the apex of your thighs, looking at him as you press his fingers against where you want him the most. Even through the thick fabric of your pants, the push of his fingers against your core has you whining, happy for some friction but wanting, needing more.

As his hand goes to unzip your pants, he replaces them deftly with his leg instead, pressing his knee against you.

“Fuck,” You sigh, as he presses himself closer to you, body now flushed against yours, thigh stimulating your pussy through your pants, mouth at your cheek, jaw, neck. Jaemin is completely overpowering your senses, yet you want more.

“Pretty doll, letting me do all of this to you.” he pushes your pants down, leaving you in your underwear and your shirt tucked up, fixing it every now and then to pinch at your tits, loving when you keen against him. “Wanting me to do all of this to you. Have you thought about me a lot? Bet you thought about us sneaking off right here so you could suck me off, or maybe thinking about me taking you right behind the counter, forcing yourself to act normal with my cock in you,” He hums against your ear, swiping his tongue against the shell before biting lightly on your lobe, wanting you to remember his touch all over you.

You’re not entirely sure what he's saying, yet you nod your head up and down, moan slipping past your lips at the light swipe of his fingers against your clothed core, doing anything to get him to give you more.

Jaemin chuckles, “Is your mind going blank already? I barely did anything to you baby, do I have to dumb it down for you and remind you?” His condescending tone is the only thing that registers in your head; that and the fact that he’s not doing anything, hands splayed still at your sides, his knee not pressing hard enough against you, with no signs of more.

He leans in and presses a sweet peck against you, before his hand squeezes your cheeks together, an attempt of garnering your attention back.

“If you want something,” He leans in, just a breath away, but moves back when your eyes lock on his lips and lean in. “You gotta tell me. I’ll only do what you want me to, got it?”

Nodding your head, you add a breathy ‘yes’ when Jaemin raises his eyebrows at you.

“Good girl,” He smiles, and it only makes your head just the slightest bit dizzy. But you’re brought back when you feel the press of his thigh against you once more, a friendly reminder of what you’re missing out on.

“I want your fingers,” You start, voice wavering a bit, getting shy from having to voice your dirty thoughts. But the press of his finger pads against you edges you on even more, encouraging you to continue. “Always look so good doing the most mundane things. Want you to fuck me with your fingers, fuck,” Jaemin proves to be a great listener, as he quickly makes work of shoving your underwear aside, commenting how you’ve ‘soaked through your panties and my pants, messy girl’. He rubs against your clit, building up a rhythm, before rubbing his fingers against your folds, soaking them in your juices thoroughly before the pad of his fingers press against your hole, making quick work.

“Fuck, you’re so tight,” Jaemin grunts at the squeeze of your walls against his two fingers, filling you to the hilt and shallowly pushing. “Bet you would feel so good around my cock,” You moan at his words, eyes falling shut as you rest your forehead against his shoulder, giving him better access to whisper such filthy words to you.

“So fucking dirty, getting off of my fingers in public like this. You’re lucky it’s late, no one gets to see you like this,” His fingers quicken their pace, the hot feeling in your stomach tightening as the palm of his hand smacks against your clit, other hand occupying itself with gripping your ass or tweaking your nipples. “Only I get to see you like this, messy and undone. All mine for the taking.”

“All yours,” You echo back, head burrowing further into his neck. As you feel another finger push into you, his pace making you clench tighter and tighter, you let out a high-pitched whine when his other hand comes down to stimulate your clit. Mockingly, Jaemin repeats back your moan in the same high-pitched voice, twisting the end of it to sound like a question.

“Is my baby close?” He pecks at the side of your forehead, a sweet gesture contrasting the pressure of his fingers against you.

“Please, Jaemin. Don’t stop,” You feel yourself grow hot, storage room now feeling stuffy as you separate from his shoulder, head tilted back against the door as your senses are overwhelmed.

“You’re so hot, fuck.” He smothers the pool of drool gathering at the corner of your lips, spreading it onto your cheek before leaning in for a kiss. It’s all tongue and teeth, too close and fucked out to makeout steadily, just wanting to feel him against you. Curling his fingers against you, you feel yourself ripping over the edge as he presses his other hand against your stomach and swipes his tongue over yours, sucking at the tip of your muscle before finishing it off with a peck.

“Let go, pretty. Show me how messy your cunt can get,” Fingers fucking into you, with a final rub and pinch of your clit you break off into a silent moan, hands clutching at his shoulders as you tense up, finally reaching your high. Jaemin’s fingers keep a steady pace as he helps you ride off your high, now going slower than before. But his fingers don’t stop even when you calm down, seeing how far you can go as he overstimulates you.

“Hurts,” You cry, but don’t make a move to stop his ministrations, hips pushing up into his touch, panting against his mouth when he kisses you again, pushing his fingers in and out of you. After a few more seconds though, your whine lilts painfully and you weakly push at his hand, to which he relents as he slows down the pace, before pulling them out carefully.

“It’s gonna feel icky for a bit, so bear with me,” Jaemin softly murmurs, reaching above to a shelf that conveniently holds paper towel rolls. The emptiness that is left emphasises the tiredness you feel, as your shoulders slump and you lean back against the door for further support. Jaemin folds the towel and dabs at your core, cleaning you up to the best of his abilities before he wraps his clean hand around your waist, manoeuvring you to lean against the wall, carefully pulling your shirt down and underwear and slacks back up. He slides the two of you down slowly, and you open your eyes to look at him, tiredness slowly wearing away as your heart flutters at his gestures.

“You okay?” He hums, his back now pressed against the wall, shoulder to shoulder with you as he gently smoothens his hand down your scalp, before cupping your face gently. You nod your head, leaning in and pressing a kiss against him.

“More than okay, that was so hot.” He chuckles at your words, poorly concealing the smug look that overtakes his features.

“I’m glad at least one of us had fun,” He teases, which makes you feel shy, as you spare a glance down to see a chub at the zip of his pants. He waves you off, adjusting himself a bit before sliding his hand into yours, lacing your fingers together.

“With what we did just then? I’ll be able to come for days even just thinking about you,” He laughs softly as you squeeze his hand in warning, before resting your head against his shoulder, with Jaemin reaching over for his jacket discarded earlier on, tugging it over your legs to provide warmth.

“You haven’t made a mistake today,” You mutter, breaking the silence that had settled as you play with his fingers with both your hands. Jaemin can only look at the side of your face as you say this, before getting comfortable and pressing his cheek against your head. “How could I when you have such high standards to meet? I need to be on your good side,” Your scoff holds no mean intentions, glancing at him briefly over your shoulder.

“You’re already on my good side,” He faux gasps.

“You’re telling me you liked me this whole time? I didn’t have to prove myself to you?” Jaemin squeals as he sways side to side, before wrapping himself around you and swaying you along with him.

You’re shy when you speak up again, muttering “I’ve already told you how I thought.. about you,” He tsks as he meets your eyes again, eyes going down to look at your lips that you bite nervously.

“Don’t even think about talking about that, I don’t know how long I can stay working here and pining after you.”

“But… I like— wait. Do you not like working at the restaurant?” Feeling like a deer caught in headlights, Jaemin tenses a bit at the information he let slip. He doesn’t want you to think that he’s ungrateful for your efforts, but the soft gaze that you give to him only soothes him.

“Okay, I’ll be honest. I think you’ve noticed by now that I’m not the most, flawless, person ever.”

“You’re telling me that you’ve made a few mistakes? No way,” He whines at your tease, as you bite your lip to contain your laughter, nodding your head to get him to continue.

“I’m just not really good at keeping part-time jobs like this. Things that need me to physically and actively do things. I once got fired from a scouts guidance group because I would give badges to the kids when they asked.”

“…Aren’t scout leaders there by volunteer? How can they fire you?”

“That’s my point!” He grumbles against you, bringing your head back down to his shoulder when you lift yourself to look at him, not wanting to look at you directly in your eyes. “And working as a waiter is definitely not easy, because I have to guess when a customer wants to order before they actually call me, and help with food and dietary needs and advice, and be smiling and happy all the time even when the old ladies pinch at my cheek and call me handsome like I’m some three-year-old golden child.” You pat at his bicep soothingly, fingers squeezing as he rambles on, letting him pour it all out.

“Well,” You bring your hands up to your lips, pressing a light kiss at the back of his hand before settling it back against your legs. “If you hate the job so much, why not quit and find something better?”

He stills as you ask this, thinking about your question. He hasn’t ventured far from the initial annoyance of having the job, not thinking of the reasons why he’s staying in contrast with the million reasons why he doesn’t want to. But the tingling feeling left at the back of his hand seems to be enough of an answer.

“Because I get to spend my time with you,” You squeeze your lips together as he says this, not knowing if you should cringe or swell at his words. You giggle lightly when you see him fall shy, hiding his face into your shoulder.

“Okay, then don’t quit,” You quip when you realise he’s not going to come out of hiding anytime soon, opting to play with your laced fingers instead. “Stay with me. You can deal with customers who ask if we have duck on our menu even when we clearly don’t, and try your best to not burn your finger on the sizzling plates, or get locked in the storage room overnight.” Jaemin feels bittersweet at the scenarios you provide, torn between what he should do.

“Or you can ask me out and then quit,” You shrug, conveniently avoiding his sudden gaze on you as he sits up. “Up to you,”

“I can do that?” You glare at him.

“I’m gonna blow up, Jaemin. I can’t believe you haven’t—” He stops you with a peck to your lips, now grinning like a maniac. “Can I be your boyfriend?”

“What will I gain?”

“Uhm… unlimited head?” You clench your grip on his hand harder. “...And a very deep and meaningful emotional connection where we fill each other's gaps and lift our—”

“Unlimited? Can you promise?” He’s about to agree without a second thought, before he sees you raise a suspicious eyebrow at him.

“..Yes?”

“Then yes, you can be mine.” He sighs contentedly now, cuddling himself back into you.

“I can’t wait to quit.”

You’re not sure when you fell asleep, but you’re woken up by the sound of a door hinge and a sudden shine of light. You try to bring your hand up to shield the onslaught of the sunshine, but the weight on your hand reminds you of your position, with Jaemins head tucked on your shoulder and yours stacked on top, hands still laced and legs slightly tangled into each other. With a squint of your eyes, you look up at the figure standing at the door.

Jaehyun’s facial expression doesn’t change much, other than the slight parting of his mouth. To you, this means that not only is he shocked still, but also somehow angry and maybe … confused? If the left side of his lip is slightly tilted down; you’re still trying to learn.

“Jaemin,” Your hoarse voice calls, shaking the boy next to you lightly to wake him up. He whines, lips mumbling gibberish into your shoulder.

“The doors open, Jaem,” That wakes him up a bit more, as he squints towards the open door.

“Oh,” He says, and then Jaehyun clears his throat. “...Oh,” The two of you rise slowly, as Jaemin places his jacket over your shoulders.

“So,” Jaehyun starts when the three of you step out of the room, the two of you now standing like students being punished for their wrongdoings. It takes all his willpower for Jaemin to not raise his hands in fists over his head.

“Funny you ask, boss. Remember when you told me not to close the door?” Jaemin thought he started off strong before he saw you looking at him with wide eyes. Jaehyun’s lip tilts to the left.

“How could you ignore the only warning I gave you? Not only did you lock yourself in that room, but her too? You know how dangerous that is, what if we didn’t have a Sunday shift to open for? This liability costs you, Jaemin.” At that, the boy feels his posture straighten.

“Am I..?” Jaehyun's frown is the strongest expression Jaemin has ever seen. He feels like doing a backflip right now.

“Fired? Of course—” And it probably is rude for him to whoop as loud as he did, but Jaemin is on cloud nine, having bagged a person like you and being liberated from having to mop the floors like clockwork. He cups your cheeks and kisses you square on your lips, laughing at the surprised squeak you let out and the bliss he feels. Taking and shaking Jaehyun’s hand, he turns and walks out of the place.

Jaehyun sighs. “This is who you were rooting for?”

Your cheeks feel hot from the sudden public display of affection, before shrugging. “He’s cute. And he’s always trying his best.” You try as your hand clutches at the sleeve of the jacket he’s lent you.

Ever since being fired from the restaurant, Jaemin feels like he now has the best of both worlds, going to the restaurant after your shift to pick you up, or spending time with you as your boyfriend throughout the week, not feeling like he only has to look forward to a shift to see your face. You’re also happy with this shift in your relationship, spending your time with him freely.

But Mark isn’t.

“I don’t know why you couldn’t have asked her out and kept your job. You don’t even get to use your twenty percent employee discount.”

“I mean, if I’m an ex-employee then I can’t see why I couldn’t.” Mark grunts as he smacks at Jaemin, leaving the latter with a pout on his lip as he rubs at his shoulder.

“I miss the Mongolian lamb, man. Can we not go back at all?” Jaemin thinks about it briefly, his mind going back to the restaurant and how you’re probably working your Friday shift at the moment. “I don’t see why not,” he hums, thinking about planning a day when both he and Mark can drop by, but he is dragged to his feet and is being pushed to wear his shoes and shrug on a jacket, before he is out the door with Mark guiding him through it all.

“Welcome to Tao Village. Oh, hi,” You look up from the slip of the phone order you just took, seeing Jaemin and Mark standing at the door. Jaemin’s lips break into a smile as he sees you, already enamoured even when you’re in your work uniform. Mark merely smiles and nods his head as a greeting, before lifting up two fingers, gesturing for a table for them.

As the boys take their seats, you go up to them with a bottle of water and ask Mark if he wants his Mongolian lamb dish for today. He clasps a hand to his chest, touched. “I can’t believe you remembered.”

“It’s all you order, really.” You write down his order into the slip in your hand, before looking at your boyfriend, who’s been gazing at you fondly, barely concealing adoration. You tap at the menu in front of him, encouraging him to voice his order.

“I want you,” Jaemin’s smile is menacing as he says this. Mark visibly shrinks in his seat, but you barely blink. “Gross, dude,”

“A dish's name, Jaem. Or I’ll tell Jaehyun that you’re here.” At that he pouts, leaning back before asking for fried rice, and a glass of red wine.

Mark gets his dish on the sizzling plate, and Jaemin spends two whole minutes trying to make sure that your fingers didn’t get caught on to the hot pan. You smack at his hand to get him back to his food, to which he flings his hand back, making impact with his glass and conveniently spilling the red drink all over. Mark blinks twice at the scene unfolding, pausing when he almost shoved a piece of lamb into his mouth, before continuing when he sees the wine only seep into the tablecloth and not anywhere near him.

Jaemin looks between the cloth and your expression. “Look at what you did,”

“What I did? Your hand was the one that smacked into the glass. You didn’t even try to catch it?” Jaemin ignores your words, waving at your words as if they’re merely pesky flies.

“It’s okay, I can forgive you but you have to compensate in another way,” He smirks at you, before his fingers slowly inch towards your waitress' apron wrapped around your waist, thumbing at the fabric tied around you. “Maybe a pretty girl like you can go out with me?”

You smile sweetly, clasping his hands into yours and rubbing your thumb into the back of his hand. You place it down on the table, your smile not dimming as you shake your head. “You have to pay for that, kind sir,” You nod your head in mock shame and guilt. Jaemin’s smile dims as he looks at the red-stained tablecloth.

“It’s part of the Tao Village policy.”

OKAY the part where jaemin *mocks.. u hehe was completely inspired by @/sunpopz haechan fic called ‘free falling’ !! give that a read bc its soso good

thank you for reading! let me know if you enjoyed it <3

#jaemin x reader #nct jaemin smut #jaemin smut #jaemin fluff #nct jaemin x reader #nct scenarios #nct dream smut #nct dream fluff #nct dream scenarios #jaemin scenarios #jaemin hard hours #jaemin oneshot #nct dream oneshots #na jaemin smut

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reverieblondie · 5 months

Text

Be Sweet to Me

Chapter 1

Pairing: Miguel O’Hara X Fem!reader

Warnings: None for this chapter, but there will be eventual smut, Pining, and teasing. For now- Fluff and Miguel struggles with grumpiness and realizing his touched started, but he's just over worked. Alternating POVs

Summary: People say many things about you're co-worker, and sure he's not the most social but you won't give up being friends with him! Little do you know Miguel is juggling so much in his life, and getting used to you is proving to be more difficult than he thought.

A/N: I am so excited to be finally be making this series! The Alternating pov's is different than what I normal do, but I think it works best for this story! This is heavily influenced by the song Be Sweet by Japanese Breakfast. Unsure how many chapters this will be, so look out for updates! if you would like to be tagged please comment to let me know!

Word count: 3,447

Part 2

“Y/n, I need you to organize the samples and make sure that all the documents are in order before the meeting.”

Giving a slight huff you stop your work, turning on your heels to face your coworker.

“Okay, but what's the magic word?” you playfully tease with the slightest hint of condensation.

Turning his head you see the unenthused glare in his eyes despite them being shaded behind the round tinted glass. You're still not fully convinced he needs those things inside, some kind of light sensitivity he's explained once but you suspect he might just like the cool guy aesthetic it gives him. Though you wouldn’t blame him if that was truly the case, it does look kinda cool.

Face scrunched in that way you have gotten used to seeing over these past few months since working here at Alchemax. Chiseled jaw clenched shut, his full lips pressed in that iconic frown, thick brown hair styled back to try and tame the unruly waves, and tall bulky figure that you used to be intimidated by, (okay, sometimes you still are) but you have slowly adjusted to your co-worker: Miguel O’Hara.

He stared at you for a beat before turning back to his work without another word, his oh-so-subtle way of telling you to shut it and do as you're told. “Alright alright, I’ll get it done. Don’t have to tell me twice.”

One thing you have learned about working with Miguel is he may not always speak with words so if you want to create an effective work area with him you have got to be good at reading his expressions. Working with a guy like Miguel had its challenges, for one his mood: he's not exactly the easiest to get along with, and people call him cold or cocky depending on the day.

Then there was how busy he kept himself, always working on something, typing on screens, working with experiments, or tapping away at that clunky watch of his. Even on the days he’s not around due to him ‘working from home’ you can tell just by his face that he hadn’t given himself time to rest. What on earth could keep a man so busy? Well…you had an idea or two…

Despite his grumpy demeanor you were determined to become friends with Miguel. It didn’t matter what others would tell you about him or how much he distanced himself, you saw the subtle glances, the repressing of smiles, the slight cracks in the shell, You two would become buddies you were sure of it. Maybe he just needed someone to show him the effort, to be sweet to him, then maybe he could lighten up and bring his walls down.

Pulling out all the stops nothing was going to stop your attempts, you were always nice (even on days where that was particularly hard) Helping with things he didn’t ask of you, organizing and cleaning up behind him. Coffee was always a winner, you knew exactly how he liked it too, you kept making different attempts then stopped on the one where he wasn’t making a face while he took his first sip. -Success!

Then there was the friendly encouragement, pats on the shoulder, and high fives. Sure he seemed hesitant to them at first but he slowly became used to them, baby steps.

Every passing day was closer and closer to your friendship blossoming!

Magic word…was she serious? Why should he say please? It's her job to listen to what he tells her and do what he says considering he’s worked here longer. Miguel keeps typing away at his computer, lamenting in his mind how his co-worker was quite the character.

Miguel couldn’t deny that having a co-worker who was tasked to help him in all his research did help him out more than he would ever admit. Having to juggle the secret identity of Spider-Man, being the leader of the spider society protecting the multiverse, and having to keep his role as head geneticist in Alchemax. Everything could get taxing very quickly on him. Layla was a great AI assistant but she was limited, so having an actual person tagging along to help him with work was bearable, though…you were a bit exuberant and that was taking some getting used to.

The jokes, the odd habits, your clumsiness, the smart remarks you mumbled under your breath, your overwhelming friendliness. All this he could begrudgingly handle, but the thing that was still overwhelming him was the touching! Sometimes it wasn’t even touching at all you would just be so close.

First noticing it when you would stand so close that he would accidentally bump into you, if he was looking at a sample you were leaning over him to watch. You had no spatial awareness, running into him, running into things! The first month of you working here you broke so many things by running into them he thought they would run out of beakers.

Then the friendly gestures started happening. Miguel was used to people keeping their distance, meeting his gruffness, but you…oh no…you must have seen it has some challenge! The encouraging words, patting of his shoulder, spontaneous high fives, squeezing past him in tight areas, adjusting his coat for him, dusting off crumbs from his chest! Your Friendly proximity made him tense, it was…new and different, and he didn’t know how to handle it.

Though it could be worse, you could be a completely useless idiot. To Miguel’s surprise you did have a brain in that head of yours, so the trade-off for actual decent help was some playfulness from you he would just deal. It’s not like he wasn’t used to playful coworkers, the spider society made sure of that. Still, you were different…and that blossoming tingling your touch would leave on him…it was…annoying.

Miguel's eyes move over to you as he watches you begin the task of organizing the samples and getting everything prepared for the meeting. Begrudgingly he was tasked with having to explain the recent studies and developments the two of you had made. The meeting was honestly bullshit, he hated having to report to the chairman, but they liked to keep a thumb on Miguel, making sure he was still their best brain. In fact, you had offered to take over and run over the presentation for Miguel but they denied that, had to be him…bastards

For a moment you turn your head and look towards Miguel meeting his eyes, you shoot him a thumbs up and a smile, that friendliness still shining through. With an annoyed huff, he turns away getting back to his work. Still adjusting…

The two of you worked diligently for a couple of hours, in silence of course, there was no time to get distracted with chatting when so much needed to be done. Rubbing his hands over his face he could feel a wave of extortion taking over him. Sleep was something he wasn’t getting regularly, there was just never enough time in the day so sacrifices must be made.

Eyes growing heavy and vision slightly blurring he feels himself slipping, but he can’t, he won't. Then a shrill alarm begins to blare from Miguel's wrist snapping him back awake. Miguel is quick to place his hand over his watch and sneak out of the lab unnoticed, lucky for him you were too concentrated on your work to notice his absence. Checking the message on his watch, it is a local emergency, something he can handle in fifteen minutes tops. With a quick few cracks of his neck, he's leaving to save the city again.

Stretching feeling accomplished in yourself getting everything prepped single-handedly. Roaming your eyes around the lab you note the lack of bulk in the room. Huh, no Miguel? He must have done one of his disappearing acts again, probably just going to lunch without you. Invite yourself to lunch with him one time and now he doesn't even tell you when he's going. Matters on that guy, oh well, you might as well go get something before the meeting anyway. Coming to a stopping point you gather your things for a nice quick bite in the cafeteria.

“I can’t see how you can work with him.” Ah, so much for a nice quick bite…

Sitting there trying to enjoy your lunch it’s the usual suspects who come to sit next to you, talking more at you and around you rather than to you. You can’t help but think that this annoying tinge you feel is what Miguel felt when he was ambushed by you. Though you couldn’t have been as annoying as these people. Complainy and gossipy types are not the best combos with your meal.

Their subjects range from many topics like complaining about work, to failed experiments, personal problems, idol gossip, then it lands to the one directly aimed at you…Miguel. As soon as the question is asked you're looking up from your food to see all eyes on you. Chewing quickly and swallowing to ask your question.

“I’m sorry what?”

Sophia groans, “O’Hara, how can you work with him?”

“Uh, well he does his thing, I do mine?”

Julius chimes in “Isn’t he a total dick to you though?”

Cassidy is now giving her input to the topic, “Oh I can only imagine what you go through on the daily.”

“Well ac-” trying to interject, you can’t even get a word in till you're being cut off by one of them.

“Yeah! Like I bet he is always bossing you around.”

“And probably insulting you in some way,”

“One time he called my team brainless idiots because we messed up one small thing” -it was not a small thing, that took you and him an all-nighter to fix…

“That was-” you try again only to be cut off once more.

“Oh, and he is always being rude!”

“God, how can you work with that monster!”

With that last comment you had it, the noise wasn’t meant to be as forceful as it came out but they kept cutting you off and then bad-talking your research partner, you were fed up. Slamming your hands on the table with a hash slap, effectively silencing them, you rise from your seat grabbing your tray in the process.

“If you have issues with him you should speak to him like he’s a person. He’s not some monster. Sure, he is not exactly social, but if this is how people talk about him behind his back it makes sense why he keeps his distance... I've lost my appetite, excuse me…”

With that, your lunch break was over.

“Spider-Man!”

“You saved us!”

“He’s a hero!”

“But…he’s kinda a jerk…”

“Didn’t he punch an old lady before?”

“I thought she punched him?”

Uhhgg…would anyone ever get that story right? Miguel is prying the last bus hostage off him as they cling tightly to him. The vulture from his dimension was up to his usual antics but he made quick work of him and was now cleaning up the shocking mess. Having to save the people from the bus was no big deal, it was the pushy reporters, camera lights flickering in his face and the clingy person keeping themselves pressed to him that was the pain to deal with. Taking deep breaths he’s trying to keep his cool, but he can feel himself threatening to boil over.

How come he can’t just ever save people and leave? Why was there always this extra crap to deal with? Finally getting the person off and seeing that all of what he could do was done he's trying to get out of there, but people can be so pushy…

Questions, Comments, Flashing lights, Praise, Criticism…he couldn’t help but snap,

“Get out of my way! Leave me alone! And for shock's sake, try to learn to protect yourselves!”

The crowd was shocked by this sudden outburst, but this should have come as no surprise from the grouchy hero. Spider-Mans in other dimensions were always known for being friendly, witty, funny, and nice to all they saved, Miguel didn’t exactly follow this blueprint. Miguel didn’t exactly mean to sound rude, just being a hero gets exhausting and patience was something he needed to work on.

Miguel hears the gasp and murmurs amongst themselves about how he’s a dick, a jerk, arrogant, blah, blah…

Rolling his eyes, hidden underneath his mask he couldn't help but think of how irrational these people could be, say one thing the public wasn’t fond of and they are at your throat. It’s all of a sudden no longer how he just saved a busload of people, or saved the city by defeating a villain; No, now it’s about how rude he was.

“Jerk!”

“Boo!”

“I hate you Spider-man!” -great…this just makes everything so much better with this thankless job.

Swing off before the police come to further irritate him. As he swings back to Alchemax he’s wrapped up in his thoughts. This hero thing was not easy…everything he did wasn’t right, not what people wanted…he was always messing up in some way…nothing was ever good enough, he had to stretch himself thinner and thinner, keeping everything together. The pressure is immense…

Getting back to Alchemax, he changes and tries to resume back to his work, the fight had successfully woken him up but now he’s starving. Eating like sleep has also become a thing he has had to cut for the sake of time, but something quick should be fine before he gets back to work.

Stopping by the cafeteria Miguel immediately spots you sat by Sophia, Julius, and Cassidy, not good company for you to keep. Well honestly anyone, they might catch their stupid. Making sure to be as unnoticed as possible last thing he needs is you trying to wave him over to your table. Coffee with a bagel is all he needs to grab so he can make his escape back to the lab. Grabbing a coffee that thankfully wasn't made by you, his sensitive ears can’t help but catch what's being said at your table. No surprise it’s about him.

Listening in he is catching fragments of the conversation sipping his coffee trying his best to ignore the meaningless conversation, till a remark of him makes him pause at the threshold of the entryway.

“How can you work with that monster!”

Monster…huh…is that how people see him? Mutated, sure, grouchy, and tempestuous maybe, But a monster. A ping in his chest makes his hands tighten around the cup. Talons threatens to poke through but he resists. If they want to see him as a monster then so be it…he doesn't care…

Suddenly, a slam, followed by your familiar voice catches him by surprise,

“He’s not some monster. Sure, he is not exactly social, but if this is how people talk about him behind his back it makes sense why he keeps his distance”

“Not some monster…” Your words can’t be helped from echoing through his head. You sound so angry, you never sound angry. Looking over he sees your face furrowed in a glare. He didn’t think your face knew how to do that. Watching as you walk away in a haste away from the table he's leaving to his usual eating spot hidden away from others.

Taking his shades off in the empty break room he dims the lights down as he sinks into one of the chairs. Finally getting even a moment of a break, even taking time to peacefully relax he finds he is unable to. Even sitting leaning back he still feels teased, irritated, stressed. Trying to shut his mind for even a moment, a second of a break he finds it to be an impossible task. But as he sits, his usual stresses fade to be replaced by your words. Miguel could have cared less about what those idiots had to say about him. The surprising thing was that you were defending him…not that he needed it… but it was…kind of you…

Taking a bite out of the bland bagel he groans to himself, annoyed.

It's almost time for the meeting and you're pacing outside the doors with everything ready to go, except you haven’t seen Miguel anywhere. Running behind is a thing you are not used to from him, he’s usually so timely but you haven’t seen him at all since he left for what you thought was lunch. Did he get caught up doing something else?

Minutes tick by and you're growing more anxious by the second. Would he just not show up? It’s a possibility, but he would be putting both your asses on the line, though he didn’t have to worry much about that, they wouldn’t fire their best brain, but…you're a bit more expendable.

Before you can continue thinking about your ass being on the chopping block Miguel is rounding the corner adjusting his coat and walking in a casual strut. Looking at him as he approaches you notice his appearance looks a bit different. That shirt does seem a bit wrinkled and his tie is completely messed up from earlier. What has he been doing? Mid-day workout? Did he have an accident in the lab and have to go change? But the clothes are the same, just wrinkled.

Or was he doing something else… Thinking for a moment over what you could be doing that would cause messed up clothes an image of a sweaty grunting Miguel pops into your brain. Pushing down the thought with an internal slap to yourself you decide to greet him as friendly as possible.

“You're running behind Miguel” -okay you can’t help but tease him a bit. Friends rass each other all the time.

“Yeah, got…caught up in something…” he speaks hesitantly, suspicious…

Miguel gets ready to go inside but you quickly grab him by the shoulder to get his attention “Hold on there, you can’t go in there looking like that”

Turning to face you, he looks at you confused then looks down at himself, “What? I look fine.”

Scoffing, you roll your eyes and point to his chest where his tie is haphazardly knotted together in a rushed fashion.

“Your tie” Before he can protest your hands are already getting to work losing his tie gently, “Let me help you”

With the silk tie undone hanging down his chest, you're moving your hands to raise his collar. As you concentrate on the task your eyes are fixed on his neck you observe that as your fingers slightly brush over his warm skin his body teases slightly. Straightening his neck, you know he’s about to say something.

“Why are you nice to me? I know what others say about me, so how come? Are you trying to pity me?” His voice is stern and this isn’t what you were expecting out of him right now. Did he hear you earlier?

The slight laugh that escapes you couldn’t be helped. Moving your hands you cross the two ends to tie in a classic Windsor knot. “Leave it to you to think someone being nice to you is just a ruse to pity you. I just want to be nice to you.”

Remaining silent you continue to loop and twist the tie, your knuckles blushing over him, you swear you see his skin pickle up for a moment with a slight shiver. Finishing up, you tighten it to his neck and carefully fold his collar back down, keeping your eyes on your work at hand, you watch as his Adam's apple slightly bobs as you adjust it properly.

Sliding your hands to the silk tie you brush your fingers down the soft fabric straightening it while laying down flat against his chest. The feeling of his chest tightness under your fingertips and his breath seems to be slightly slow, you don’t know if he is hating this or being relaxed by it.

Meeting his eyes, they are unshaded for you to observe their burgundy hue. His face is still stern looking but you know this one has that slight softness in his eyes, meaning his listening, he is waiting for you to speak again.

“I want us to be friends, simple”

Miguel's lips slightly part as if he was about to speak, but before he could the conference room doors opened with them calling Miguel in. Turning to you there is a look on his face you're not completely used to, but that will have to wait for now. Giving a quick pat to his chest you smile up at him.

“You got this Miguel, good luck.”

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lovelettersfromluna · 9 months

Text

✰20 Something✰

{Ellie Williams x Reader}

Summary: How you ain’t say you was movin’ forward? Honesty hurts when you’re gettin’ older, I gotta say I’ll miss the way you need me.

an: first things first, yes it’s based off of the sza song, yes this is going to be very angsty, and yes I purposefully used the lyrics of the song to leave a bit of mystery for the summary hehe. But anyways! Here’s the second part of Blossom! This one is pretty short, and the ending is a bit abrupt, but that’s only because I have plans for the next part!! I hope you enjoy angels. Mwah mwah 🖤🖤

Warnings: angst!! Ellie is an idiot in this one I’m sorry, Joel being a dad figure to reader, alcohol usage, reader gets a lil drunk, jealous!reader, let me know if I missed anything pleaseeee (not proofread)

You can read part 1 here!

Tag list: @gold-dustwomxn @liabadoobee @uraesthete @heathermuahhh

For the first time in five years, your bed is warm.

And that doesn’t go to say you never had a warm body filling up the empty spot next to you in your bed. There were many times where you’d fallen into bed with someone for a one night stand, or finally working up to the person you would be seeing at the time to sleeping over.

But that was all in the city, you hadn’t once given someone the opportunity to fill your bed in your current home. The home that you were sprouting your roots into, and creating a space that you’d call home forever.

That, and none of those people before warmed you up like Ellie did.

Ellie’s arms never leave yours within the night, they’re strong and they hold you tight against her chest even when she’s snoring softly in your ear. It’s almost as if she’s scared you’ll slip away somehow, like she’s worried if she doesn’t hold on tight enough, she’ll no longer be in this dream that she’s found herself in.

And you don’t mind, her warm embrace helps clear your head from the noisy thoughts that threaten to cloud your mind. Without her strong arms wrapped around your middle, and the dreamy smell of her shampoo and her cologne, you’d be panicking.

Panicking because none of this is okay, and you both know it.

It allows you to sleep, and enjoy her for the moment, because you know exactly what you’ll do when the sun rises.

You have it all planned out, playing out the scenario and what you’ll say in your head. It’s like you’ve written a script for yourself, one that you’ve closely analyzed and revised countless times between the heavy sedation of sleep and wake that finds you through the night. You continuously fall in and out because the foreign feeling of Ellie next to you is too apparent to ignore, and it makes itself even more known when you realize that it’s Ellie.

Despite it all, the sleep is good. It’s heavy, and comfortable and it’s like your bodies are tangled up within one another in the most perfect way, making your insides feel warm and fuzzy. You’re sure you’d be able to stay there with her till the end of time. You feel her wake up a few times as well, pressing gentle kisses at the nape of your neck, whispering sweet promises into your ear as her hands slip underneath your t shirt, toying with your soft skin and pulling you in closer.

Because she can’t get enough of you. She’s cursing herself on the inside because she can’t believe she’d almost forgotten how good you felt pressed up against her, how nice your supple skin felt spilling from between her fingers, how responsive your body was to her every kiss and touch.

So she feels she has some catching up to do, and she plans on roaming her fingers along every available space of your body. She wants to remember everything she’s ever experienced with you, all while making new memories as well.

And you can feel it, which makes it all the more harder to get out of bed the next morning.

The morning sun is warm and inviting, but it comes all too soon.

It takes everything in you to peel Ellie’s limbs from your body. You let out a sigh of relief when once you’re out of bed, she’s still fast asleep. You tilt your head to the side as you eye the girls sleeping form, she looks like her younger self when she sleeps. Her cheeks look fuller, and her lips look plumper. It reminds you of all the times you traced your fingers over her sleeping face when she’d fallen asleep in your bedroom when you were teenagers.

It reminds you of the face that wouldn’t even look in your direction when shoving a box into your arms.

And maybe you’re being petty, because it was something that happened so long ago and you both were so young. But it still hurts, and it doesn’t matter if it happened when you were both young, or if your relationship was doomed anyways.

Ellie did what she did, and no matter how many sweet things she said to you, she couldn’t take it back.

You sigh softly as you blink out of your trance, breaking away from the memories that you had been holding onto for so long. You need to get dressed, and you need to get downstairs before Ellie wakes.

You settle on a plane white t shirt, and a pair of your favorite denim shorts. They’re your moms from when she was younger, they remind you of when you were little.

Your feet pad against the wooden floor as you make your way downstairs. It’s still very early, and if Ellie is anything like the way she was when she was younger, you’ll be clear of her for at least another hour or so.

You settle on grabbing some fresh lemons from a near by bowl and making some lemonade to kill the time.

On the other end of your house, Ellie is groaning softly. She takes a moment to realize where it is that she is, the foreign bed making her feel extremely confused. Once her eyes have adjusted to the early morning light peeking in through your window, she immediately remember where she is.

Memories of the night before come flooding in, and she can’t stop the stupid smile that paints her face.

She’s blushing like an idiot, and she brings her strong hands up to her face as she groans softly. She’s just as fucking smitten for you as she was back when she was a teenager, and she can’t even deny it.

You, where were you?

The question runs rapid in her mind as she sits up, frowning a bit as she looks around. She isn’t too worried, seeing as she is in fact in your house. She knows you couldn’t have gone far, but the fact alone that she wasn’t able to wake up to you in her arms makes her upset.

From upstairs she can hear a bit of clattering downstairs in the kitchen, and she knows exactly where you are.

Ellie is up on her feet instantly, yawning as she scratches the back of her neck. She makes her way through your home, smiling softly at all the little trinkets you have set around on different shelves and tables.

But when she finally finds herself in your kitchen, and spots you, you’ve taken her breath away.

The window near your counter lets the warm glow of the sun hit you perfectly, sun rays shining through your hair and onto your pretty features. The song you’re humming softly is the sweetest melody she’s ever heard in her entire life, and your clothes are simple, but they’re making her fucking swoon.

It all feels so domestic, like she’s waking up to you, her girl, in the kitchen of your sweet home, and it’s enough to make her head spin.

It almost feels like nothings ever changed.

You’re too lost in your own thoughts as you slip a few more lemon slices into the pitcher before you bring your wooden spoon into it and stir it once more, finally happy with the drink. You don’t even hear Ellie when she’s approaching you from behind, strong hands wrapping around your waist and pulling you against her chest. You gasp softly, almost forgetting that the girl was in your house for a moment.

Your eyes flutter shut as you let her hold you. She’s lifting you up and into her body to the point that your toes almost leave the floor, her face pressing into your neck as she inhales the sweet scent of your shampoo.

She brings a hand up, pushing your hair back so she’s able to press soft kisses to your neck. The feeling of her lips against your skin makes you whine.

“Morning, blossom…” she hums. Her voice is raspy, and deep and still thick with sleep. It makes you tug your bottom lip between your teeth, tugging on it softly, and you can’t help but close your eyes and tilt your head to the side to give her better access to your neck, silently begging for more of her kisses.

It’s when you feel one of her strong hands slipping under your shirt and toying with the waist of your denim shorts that you open your eyes and quickly clear your throat, stepping away from her grip as you turn around.

You almost wish you’d stayed in her arms, because Ellie looks like a fucking dream right now.

Her hair is messy, and her eyes are puffy from sleep, lips pouting from the lack of you in her arms. Her t shirt is hanging loosely on her body, boxers low on her waist. She looks like something you would’ve assumed only existed within the depths of your fantasies, and nowhere in the real world.

Yet here she was, standing right in front of you, arms already reaching out and begging for you to be pressed against her.

You quickly step grab the pitcher of lemonade and hold it between the two of you, acting as a form of separation, one that would keep her away from you for at least a few seconds longer. You knew that it you let her hold you the way she did, or even come any closer, you’d fold.

“I um…thought you’d be thirsty…so I…made you some lemonade”

Ellie frowns as she watches you stutter, a habit that seemed to be the most present whenever you were nervous or hiding something. She could still recall the time when you and Joel were planning a surprise birthday party for her eighteenth, and she questioned you on why you’d been so absent for the past month or so. You were a babbling mess, avoiding eye contact, trying your best to get out of being in rooms alone with her, anything so that you could be free of the guilt that came with keeping something from her.

Just like you were now, babbling, eyes blinking rapidly as you looked everywhere but her eyes.

Her eyebrows are furrowed in confusion as she watches you for a moment longer, she opens her mouth to say something, but you’re already reaching behind her and grabbing two glasses and bringing them to your little kitchen table.

She watches you as you move, your focus now on the two glasses as you fill them up. She settles on leaving it alone for now, mainly because she’d like to just focus on you right now.

She moves to sit down at the table, but it doesn’t go without her hand sliding against your waist, her tattooed arm wrapping around it as she presses a kiss to your head. “You alright baby?” She mumbles against your hair, giving your skin a gentle squeeze before she moves to sit down, her green eyes never leaving your face as she takes her glass into hand.

It makes it feel like you’ll lose your footing, the way she’s so quickly comfortable enough to do these things to you, say these things to you, like she never even left you in the first place. It’s all too quick, and it makes you feel like you’re the happiest girl in the world, all while being the saddest.

You have to get away from her, you can’t be anywhere near her.

You quickly clear your throat, giving her a quick nod as you grab your glass and move over to your sink, which is opposite of the kitchen table. Her eyebrows furrow again as she watches you flee her touch, and it leaves a bitter taste in her mouth.

You’re quite literally flinching away from her touch as if you’re afraid of her, and it makes her anxiety settle in with each passing moment.

You stand near the sink, staring into the glass filled with lemonade, a lemon wedge floating around in the surface as you find it far more interesting to stare into it rather than looking into Ellie’s eyes.

“What’s going on?” She questions, one of her hands resting on her thigh as she watches you. The worry in her voice is enough to make you wince, eyes squeezing shut for a moment before you exhale loudly, looking up so that you’re now staring out your window, the calm morning breeze swaying through the trees calming you for a moment before you speak.

“I can’t do this, Ellie.” You mumble softly, voice barely above a whisper.

Your tone has Ellie on her feet before you can even finish, your kitchen table scraping against the wooden floor as she pushes it back so she can stand. You’ve barely even said anything, or given any explanation to what it is that you’re even talking about, but she already knows.

“What do you mean? You said last night that you were okay with this…with us-“ you cut her off quickly, the words falling from her lips too hard to listen to.

“I know….what I said Ellie…I just…” you sigh sadly, hands gripping the edge of your counter as you try to compose yourself. It doesn’t help that Ellie is by your side, her body towering over yours as she stares down at you. One of her hands come down to brush your hair away from your face, trying to get a better view of your expression as her other hand comes down to grip your hip gently, massaging the skin gently.

Despite you telling her you can’t be with her, she’s still there, comforting you and helping you get the words out. It makes it hurt even more.

She leans down, pressing a kiss to your head. “Say it…” she mumbles softly against your hair. Her words leave a chill down your spine, because her tone isn’t malicious or even angry, she knows she’s getting what she deserves, and she knows that you deserve to get it out.

You lick your lips, pulling your bottom lip between your teeth before you turn to face her, your eyes finally looking up into hers. It makes your breath shudder, because they’re holding so much pain, and confusion and it makes you hate yourself for doing this.

“It is as just…a lot…seeing you for the first time in so long…I wasn’t thinking and…and you don’t even live here anymore, Ellie. How are we even supposed to do this? I let you stick around and fuck me until it’s time for you to leave again? And then it’s back to how it was? I don’t even know you anymore…I can’t…I won’t do it.” You sigh out, your words are stern and there’s no getting through to you, and Ellie can see that.

You feel your eyes burn with hot tears, and you don’t even care. You inhale deeply as they spill out onto your cheeks, gently grabbing Ellie’s hands from your hips and removing them so they’re now hanging down by her own legs.

“I deserve better, Ellie…and you aren’t that” you whimper out. The words are like fire on your tongue, burning your insides and setting your heart ablaze as you stare at her. It hurts to even say it out loud, but it’s the truth, you both know it.

Ellie’s own green eyes pool up with tears, the whites of her eyes going red as she inhales deeply. She knew it was all too good to be true, too much of a fantasy to indulge in. She didn’t deserve your kindness, she didn’t deserve your forgiveness, she knew that for a long time.

It was just nice to pretend that she did for a moment.

Ellie knows deep down, that she’d do anything to beat the obstacles that would’ve came with being with you. The distance, trust, making it all up to you, she would’ve done it all. You’d never been anything less than the girl that she wanted to grow old and grey with.

You both new that.

She licks her lips, looking down at her feet for a moment before she gives you a nod. She can’t make this any harder for you than it’s already been. You do deserve better, and as much as she feels she can provide only the best for you, she can’t put you through anymore pain than she already has.

“I’ll um…I’ll let myself out…” she nods to herself, her words barely above a whisper in fear that it’ll break through her tears, and she’ll crumble onto her knees, begging you to give her the chance that she didn’t deserve.

You inhale deeply, looking away from the girl as you nod. Any longer staring into those big, sad eyes, and you would’ve crumbled with her, holding her in your arms and telling her it had always been her, and that you’d give her a million chances if she wanted them.

But you needed to do right for yourself, you had to put your foot down.

Ellie disappears upstairs, grabbing her jeans and her sneakers and getting dressed in silence. She takes in the details of your room, knowing that it would be the last time that she sees this intimate side of you. It’s one of the things she regretted the most, not taking in the little things about you leading up to when she left, it made it harder to remember them down the road.

You don’t move from your spot until she comes back, because it’s hard to retain the last twenty four hours that you’ve experienced. It feels bizarre and unreal and it feels like a disturbingly realistic dream. You feel like you can’t move, like you’re suddenly glued to the floor.

Ellie’s foot steps padding against your floor breaks you away from that feeling, and you’re quickly on your feet and walking her towards the door. It’s awkward and strange and it feels like she wasn’t just grabbing you and pulling you into her body mere moments ago.

Before Ellie walks out of your door, she quickly turns around eyes scanning over your living room for a moment before she moved over to the little brown wooden entrance table near your door.

Along with a small bowl holding your keys, there was a little note pad and a little red pen. Without skipping another beat, she grabbed it, jotting down her number. She cleared her throat as she handed it to you, eyes down casted before she spoke. “My um…my number…feel free to call or text or..whatever you want. I’ll always answer” she reassures.

You stare at the little note for a moment, chewing your bottom lip before you sigh softly. “Ellie you really don’t have to do that-“ she cuts you off, stepping forward and grabbing your hand, turning it over before she pushes the paper into your hand, closing it around it.

“I don’t wanna be strangers anymore..even if we can’t be together in the way I’d want…I miss you…i’ll take you in any way you’ll let me have you…” she sighs out, her tone pleading with you.

You finally stare up into her eyes, and you know she’s telling the truth. You lick your lips, looking down at the little note scribbled in her hand writing, paired with a little smiley face at the end.

“Maybe we could go out sometimes…as friends or something” she adds on, weary of the way you’ve been completely silent this entire time.

You let out a soft sigh before you give her a slow nod, your finger tips gently running along the numbers on the paper before you finally look up at her, giving her a soft, sad smile. “Yeah…I’d like that, Ellie” you speak softly to her.

Despite it being far from what she wants, she gives you a soft smile. She nods with you, staring at you for a moment longer before she nods her head towards the door. “I’d better head out then…I’ll see you around?” She says almost hopefully, scared that it’ll be yet another promise you’ve made that you aren’t sure you want to keep or not.

You smile softly, giving her a reassuring nod. You’re leaning against the front door, watching her as she walks out to her car. She feels like she’ll pass out at any moment, because it’s like the universe is playing a cruel joke on her. The most beautiful girl in the entire fucking world is the one she can’t have, and seeing you leaned up against the door, sun shining down on you like you’re a goddess in the flesh.

She’s surprised she didn’t fall over with a nose bleed.

“I’ll….text you Ellie” you sigh out, and your words alone have Ellie grinning from ear to ear. She almost trips over her own feet as she walks backwards towards her car, causing you to giggle.

She quickly grabs onto the handle of the car, giving you a nod. “Yeah! Yes, um…I’ll answer!” She tries, smoothing down her t shirt to try and come off as cool as possible. You smile softly as you nod, giving the girl a small wave.

It’s all bitter sweet, the smiles on both your face and hers, the way you’re leaning against your door watching her get into her cat and leave, the dreamy look in your eyes as you watch as her car pulls out of your drive way. It all feels too much like a dream, like things had never changed, and everything you had ever wanted was all yours.

But it isn’t, Ellie isn’t yours and you aren’t hers. That was the decision you made, and you were sticking to it.

You huff loudly as you tug yet another dress of your body a bit too roughly.

Nothing looked right, everything looked wrong, and you had to be at Joel’s house within the next hour for the party he was throwing for Ellie.

It had been about a week since the entire situation with Ellie had happened, and as hollow as it made your heart feel, things between the two of you had been surprisingly good. You and her texted often, keeping things as friendly as possible. Apart from the numerous times Ellie tried flirting with you. You’d even gone as far as meeting with her and Joel for dinner sometime within the week. During which, Joel had mentioned that he was throwing a welcome home party for Ellie, and he expected you to be there.

And before you knew it, Friday was upon you. Your hair and makeup was already done, yet you had no idea what the hell to put on. You huffed loudly in annoyance as you threw a denim skirt across your room, stepping forward to rummage through your closet once again before the sound of your phone buzzing caught your attention.

You raised your eyebrows as you turned around, looking at your phone on its spot upon your bed. You roll your eyes playfully as you step forward a bit and realize it’s Ellie.

Ellie: do u know what ur gonna wear?

You sigh softly as you look at your mess of a closet for a brief moment before you begin typing away at your phone.

You: not a clue. U?

Ellie: birthday suit. Wanna twin?

You: do u want me to block u?

Ellie: jeez relax

Ellie: was just a suggestion 🙄

Ellie: srsly tho, u comin soon?

You: soon as I figure out what to wear

Ellie: hurry up. People are already here and I need someone to talk shit with

You: yes ur majesty

Ellie: oh I like that

You: I’ll send these messages to ur dad

Ellie: are u telling on me?

You: bye Ellie

Ellie: byeeeeeee

And that’s what your relationship consisted of. Witty back and forth texts with the occasional flirting that you’d have to shut down every once in a while. It felt…simple, easy, like there was no complicated history between the two of you and you could just be friends who would talk shit sometimes.

It made it feel easier to be around her.

You let out a soft sigh before you turn towards your closet once again, tossing your phone onto your bed and tackling the issue at hand that was finding an outfit for Ellie’s party.

About twenty minutes more of rummaging through your closet, you settle on a black lace table top, one that falls a bit frilly towards the end, a pair of blue jeans, and black sandals. You sigh softly as you look into the mirror, giving your hair a few more shakes and cleaning up any access lip liner around your lips before you grab your purse and make your way over to Joel and Ellie’s house.

When you get to Joel’s house, you aren’t sure you’d ever seen so many cars lined up against the curb.

Ellie had always been a town favorite, and it’s no shocker that everyone would wanna get in on the action of seeing her now that she was back.

You inhale deeply as you stare up at the house, for a moment a feeling of uncertainty washing over you. Regardless of the fact that you and Ellie were on speaking terms, it was still hard to shake the uneasy feeling that came with being around her. It made your heart rate quicken, made your palms sweaty, your hands shaky. It was an overwhelming full body experience that no matter how much you tried to shake, you couldn’t.

But, you promised you’d be there. You let out a soft sigh before you wiped your palms against the rough denim of your jeans, shaking away your nervous before you walked up the steps to the house, and let yourself inside.

You can’t remember the last time Joel’s house was so lively. Anytime within the last few months that you’d been there had been quiet, and it was only ever the two of you. Joel preferred it that way, keeping things quiet and more intimate. He just for some reason had a thing with home coming parties

As soon as you’re in the house, various familiar faces are coming towards you and greeting you with smiling faces. You smile softly as you embrace a few of them, allowing them to calm your nerves for a brief moment before you have to see Ellie.

But before those thoughts can even begin to disperse in your mind, Ellie is cutting the conversation she was having short, because her eye had been on the front door the entire night, waiting for the moment that the person behind it would be you.

It almost makes her angry, because you never fail to take her breath away. You’re supposed to be her friend and she’s gawking at you from the moment you set foot in her house. She licks her lips, eyes raking down your form as she brings the red solo cup to her lips, her other arm reaching out and circling your waist to pull you into a hug.

You take your bottom lip between your teeth as she pushes you flush against her body. She’s not drunk, but she’s certainly warmed up enough to grab you as she pleases. You can’t help but giggle softly as she holds you before you press your hands to her chest, pushing her away from your body. “Already broken into dads liquor cabinet I see?” You tease her.

She rolls her eyes playfully before she looks down into her cup before taking another sip. “Had no choice, he spent way too much fuckin money on whiskey for me…said he wanted the good stuff” she groans out. You smile softly as you nod, looking down into the cup with her before your eyes scan the room for the man in question.

“Where is he anyways? I wanna say hello” you breath out, your voice slightly raised as you lean into her a bit so that she’s able to hear you over the chatter of party goers conversations and the low music playing in the background.

Her eyes drift down towards your face as you look around for her father, licking her own lips as she takes in your pretty features for a moment before she looks up with you, catching sight of her dad across the room chatting up some work friends. “Probably talking about building decks and the game coming up…boring stuff…meaning you’d much rather hang with me” she mumbles out nonchalantly. You roll your eyes as you give her a nudge, your palm pressing against her chest.

She smirks softly as she watches you. You’d both fallen into such a comfortable relationship, regardless of the fact that her heart yearned for you whenever you were near, and every time other than that. She was at least grateful for the way you were around her now.

“You have an entire house of people here to see you, and talk to you…I won’t hog” you nod to yourself, and it makes her want to whine.

She’d trade every single person in that room for you, any fucking day.

“You’ll catch up later though, yeah?” She questions, her big eyes looking down into yours and practically begging for the reassurance that she so desperately needed. That had become a common thing for her, constantly asking you for reassurance that you’d text her or that you’d come back around to see her later on.

You know why she does it, she’s scared you’ll leave her. She’s scared you won’t keep your promise of sticking around and you’ll realize that this isn’t right, and she doesn’t even deserve you as a friend.

She’s scared you’ll do to her what she did to you.

But you always reassure her. You always give her that little act of devotion that she doesn’t deserve, yet you always feel the need to give her. You smile softly as you look up at her, giving her arm a gentle squeeze. “I’ll come and find you” you promise, and you can physically see relief wash over her. She smiles softly with you as she nods, mumbling a soft ‘okay’ before you set out to go find Joel.

Joel’s face lights up the exact same way Ellie’s does when he spots you, excusing himself from the conversation with his friends as he pulls you into a big bear hug. “There’s my girl…was starting’ to think you weren’t comin’ kid” he breaths out, and you can practically hear the smile on his face as he holds you close.

You giggle softly as you hug him back before you nod. “M’sorry, Joel…the walk is pretty long” you admit, leaving out the part where you ruined your entire bedroom searching for an outfit that was good enough.

Your words make him groan. “I told you kid, I could’ve came and picked you up. Don’t like you walkin’ home so late at night” he sighs out. You giggle softly, the prominent frown on his brow making it clear how annoyed he was with you doing that. “This town is harmless Joel. Plus, you’re celebrating with Ellie, I knew you’d wanna have a drink or two…I’ll be fine” you reassure him, giving his arm a playful punch.

He sighed softly, nodding slowly. “If you say so…but if you change your mind I’m sure one of my buddies wouldn’t mine taking you home” he promises, and you give him a nod paired with a soft smile. “I’ll keep that in mind Joel..” you smile up at him before you turn your attention to the party, smiling softly at what Joel had managed to put together.

“The place looks great by the way…you sure know how to throw a party old man” you praise him, causing his eyes to crinkle towards the edges as he smiles proudly. He nods in agreement as he brings his cup to his lips. “Looks good, right? Ellie said it was too much but…with her first time back and all..wanted to make it a good one” he breaths out before he looks down at you.

“M’really happy you made it kid. You don’t know how much it means to her” his voice drops a bit as he looks down at you, and you look up at him. His eyes are filled with genuine gratitude, the ones he looked at you with every time he saw you and Ellie together when you were younger. It was as if he was thanking you for loving his daughter, despite everything that had happened.

You smile softly up at him before you nod, looking down as you toy with the rings on your fingers. It all felt like too much, like you were given credit for something you didn’t deserve. You inhaled deeply before you nodded your head towards the kitchen. “M’gonna get something to drink…I’ll be around” you promise him, and he smiles softly as he nods, giving your back a soft, gentle rub before he goes back to his friends.

And those are the two longest conversations you have for the night. You decide to lay low, babysitting the drink that you’d made for yourself which consisted of whatever soda you could and the cheapest liquor that Joel had, because you didn’t want to use io the expensive stuff he’d bought for Ellie.

You float around from the living room, to the front porch, and the kitchen, choosing not to stay in one place for too long at one time. You have gentle smiles and small waves to people you knew from town, the drink in your hand giving you the warmth to not feel embarrassed when fleeing the conversation too quickly.

You do it, because you know that no matter what, you and Ellie would gravitate towards one another within the night. It was inevitable, because you were both drinking and if her eyes weren’t on you, yours were on her, and you had to make it a point to not make your way around her at all.

Because you knew it wouldn’t end well.

About an hour or two into the party, you’re leaned up against the island in Joel’s kitchen. You were working on your second drink, quietly sipping away at with your chin leaned into your palm, humming softly to the music that was playing.

Joel had made his way towards you within the night, checking in on you and making sure you were okay and had whatever you needed or wanted.

He leans up against the counter with you, his forearms resting against the wooden top as he leans into you a bit. “Why do I keep findin’ you hidin’ in a corner? You’re not havin’ fun?” He’s only half teasing you. The other half of his question is genuine, and you can’t help but feel bad that he’s worried about you, and why you’re not socializing.

You smile softly as you shake your head, bringing your red cup to your lips and taking another sip before you speak. “I’ve never been a social butterfly…you know that” you hum softly, and it’s true. You’ve never been one to party too hard or speak too much. Sure, you had your fair share of it all in college, but it was all done with the gentle shove of your friends behind you. You were an introvert through and through, who simply had a few extrovert tendencies whenever it counted.

But that was only half the truth.

The rest of it, was that you were in deed hiding from something, two somethings actually.

You didn’t mean to see it, or even catch it, although saying it that way made it sound like she was doing something wrong or something she shouldn’t have been, which was far from the truth. Joel had really gone as far as extending an invitation to anyone he saw in town, and urged them to spread the word to whoever they wanted. In that, came various familiar faces that you hadn’t seen in a very long time.

Amongst those faces, was a girl named Jade.

Jade became a prominent name during your high school years. Before you and Ellie began dating, it was no secret that the girl had been crushing on Ellie for quite some time. Ellie told you she noticed it all during the third grade, said that Jade would pass her notes or ask her to be her valentine, but she never truly paid it any mind, because she didn’t see Jade that way.

And when you started dating, the flirty eyes never really stopped. You’d always catch Jade ogling Ellie, whispering things to her friends when you’d walk past, laughing loudly to make sure you knew they were talking about you. You knew it wasn’t anything against you, it was for the simple fact that Jade wanted something that you had. In fact, when you’d return to town, Jade had even made it a point to pull you aside and apologize to you one day when you were running errands in town. You could tell she was genuine, and that it was all petty little high school games, and you considered her to be somewhat of a friend in your new life there.

And you never once accused Ellie of wanting Jade, because you always felt secure with her. Despite everything that Ellie had put you through, you’d never label her a cheater.

But seeing them both on the couch, Jade whispering something into Ellie’s ear, Ellie’s arm draped across the couch behind Jade, the two of them looking far too much like a couple for comfort. It put a dull, burning feeling inside your stomach. It made your heartbeat loud inside of your head and it felt like all the blood was rushing to your head. It was too much, and you couldn’t be around to watch.

But you’d never tell Joel that.

He somehow already knows that it’s what’s on your mind, because he’s leaning into you and his voice is dropping lower in volume so that no one but you will hear. “She’s just bein’ polite, you know…doesn’t mean anything…” he’s trying to reassure you, as if it would ease the blow.

You sigh softly, shaking your head as you bring your cup up to your lips, taking a sip of the flattening soda and the bitter alcohol, the flavor making you wince a bit. “Doesn’t matter if she’s being polite, or if she likes her…it’s none of my business…I’m just here because you asked me to be” you mumble out as you swirl the drink in the cup, staring down into it as you have a half shrug.

Joel sighed sadly as he watched you. Regardless of the fact that he knew Ellie was wrong for what she did, he knew his daughter, and he knew that she was just being young and reckless when she did what she did. He’d always been rooting for the two of you, secretly hoping that some how, some day, you’d find it in your heart to forgive his daughter, and give her the privilege of loving you.

His eyes drifted over towards Ellie for a moment, watching as the girl leaned in and whispered something in her ear, her hand resting on Ellie’s thigh. It was enough to make him roll his eyes, which prompted you to giggle softly. Alcohol always brought out the sassy side of the man.

“Im tellin’ you kid, if you went over there right now, you’d have her full attention” His words make you laugh dryly, shaking your head as you down the rest of your drink, tilting your head back to get all of it into your mouth before you toss it into the nearby trash.

“Maybe. But I’m not gonna stick around to test that theory” you breath out, your words slow and soft from the affects of the liquor in your system. Joel raises his eyebrows as he watches you, frowning softly.

“Leavin’ already? You sure about that?” He tries, his attempt at trying to get you to stay not so casual. You hum softly as you nod, leaning against the opposite side of the counter as you looked over at Joel with heavy eyes.

“I wanna get out of here while I can still walk…plus I don’t wanna keep you from your friends” you nodded towards the various people that Joel had left throughout the night to check on you. It made you feel bad, because he truly was the only person you felt okay with speaking to throughout the night, and the guilt you felt knowing you were pulling him away from his guests was something you could’ve easily gone without.

He sighed softly as he shook his head. “You know I’d rather spend time with you kid, don’t mind them” you’re already waving your hand lazily as you practically shoo him away, giving him a soft smile as you shake your head. “It’s way past my bed time anyways Joel….I’ll see you next week” you reassure him, and he knows there’s no convincing you.

He sighs gently before he gives you a soft nod, telling you to get home safe to which you assure him you will.

On your way towards the door, various people are calling after you. Telling you that it’s far too early for you to check out, you’re even sure a few hands grab your own, trying to tug you back. You simply give a soft giggle as you wave them off, telling them you have work to do at home.

It isn’t until a strong hand wraps around your waist when your hand is on the door, that you completely stop.

There’s no question on who it is, the feeling of Ellie’s hands having been burned into your brain from the last time she was with you. You can’t help but whine softly in annoyance, because you know that’s it’s her, and you know that there’s no reason for her to have gotten up from where she was sitting to stop you.

She’s the entire reason you’re leaving anyways.

Ellie’s tugging at your waist to turn you around, needing to see your face. The whine you let out makes her sigh softly. Once she’s gotten you to turn around, you’re rolling your eyes at her.

“What is it now, Ellie?” You sigh out tiredly, and it makes the girl frown. You sound like you’re over it, and tired of her, and like the only thing you truly want to do in that moment is go home.

“You’re leaving already? I thought…you said you’d come and find me later” she mumbles, her voice desperate and confused. You raise your eyebrows in disbelief as you watch her before you inhale deeply, giving her a half shrug. “I’m just tired, Ellie…it’s best if I go home now” you nod, trying to turn around and end the conversation short. You truly did not have the energy to deal with any of it, your emotions, the jealousy you felt, her.

She frowns further as you try to leave, her hand grabbing your wrist and stopping you from leaving before she speaks up again. “Is it..are you leaving because of Jade? Because her and I weren’t doing anything I swear-“ you let out a soft giggle, but it doesn’t sound friendly or even happy. You’re quite literally over it.

“Why are you explaining yourself to me? I’m nothing to you, Ellie. You can be with whoever you want, it has nothing to do with me” you breath out, and the words you’re saying are breaking Ellie’s heart.

She thought she had it all planned out. She wanted to just…make you a little jealous, get your attention in the slightest bit. She was running out of options, and doing some harmless flirting seemed to be the way she’d get you to her. She wanted you to stomp over to her and Jade on the couch, and demand that she come upstairs with you.

But when she simply saw your shoulders deflate from the kitchen, and you made your way to her front door, she knew she’d made a mistake.

It was starting to feel like that’s all she could do, make mistakes. Every thing she did, or said was always the wrong thing. The worst possible option for her to make was the one she always followed through with.

And she hated herself for it.

And she couldn’t even say anything to you. She just stared down at you as you waited for her to say something. You let out a tired sigh before you grab her hand gently, prying it away from her wrist. “Have fun with her…you deserve it” you sigh out, giving her a sad smile before you turn around once again to leave.

But this time, Ellie doesn’t stop you.

Because she isn’t sure how to reverse what she’s done. Nothing has gone the way she’s wanted it to, and what she thought would bring you two closer together has merely driven a wedge between you instead. She frowned as she watched you open the front door to her house.

Before you leave, you give her a small wave, and she can see in your eyes how much this has all taken out of you, how much life she had sucked out of you and left you dry. Despite all that she’d done, you still had it in your to leave with a sweet smile and a wave.

It was like she couldn’t do anything right, and seeing you leave and walk out of her home once again was breaking her heart.

She was letting you walk out again, and she felt utterly hopeless.

As she watched you leave, she promised herself that she would do everything in her power to make things right, to do right by you and be the girl that you deserved.

She was going to fight for you, no matter what.

#ellie williams #ellie williams smut #ellie williams x y/n #ellie williams x female reader #ellie williams x you #ellie tlou #ellie x y/n #ellie the last of us #ellie x you

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crepesuzette2023 · 5 months

Note

Hi! Because someone just asked me, I'd love you hear your Top 5 favourite McLennon fics!

You made my day! Nothing could have made me happier than this ask.

I'm not going to evade your question. I will post my top-five, even though it hurts to choose. But you inspired me to finally write a longer (okay: very long) post about some (not nearly all!) of my favorites, which will be under the cut.

(Sorry for not knowing every writer's tumblr, by the way. Please feel free to let me know, so I can tag authors where appropriate. Thank you!)

My Top 5:

MIRACLE WORKER by @scurator. What can I say. Every time I need my heart broken and to feel an inkling of what grace truly means, I go to this masterpiece about Paul and Robert Fraser finding each other again at Cavendish in 1981.

COAST STARLIGHT by bookofapril is "Miracle Worker's" cosmic twin. The sun to its night. Paul and Robert Fraser on Fire Island in 1974. Nothing I can say will do it justice, so I won't try. This is the "other world" conjured in "Tug of War," so powerfully and joyfully imagined, it's real. (I'm always thinking of this story, but I did so extra hard when I came across a prompt recently: 'They aren't each other's first love, but they're each other's true love'.)

SAME AS IT EVER WAS by RedheadAmongWolves. My favorite Outsider's POV. An ageing newsstand owner from Liverpool remembers John and Paul as boys and young men. There's something magical about the relationship coming alive in these glimpses. A story filled with tenderness that reminds me to always look closely.

AN ORGASM OF SOUND by @pauls1967moustache. The insanity of John and Paul in 1967 got the tribute it deserves. I sleep easier since I read this story. It feels cosmically right that it exists.

PLANT A SEED by @eveepe. Paul in his slutty sailor outfit in Miami. He and John are into each other, and happy, and fuck slowly. Afterwards, Paul has an idea for a new song. That's it. Tender, glorious, hot perfection. Apply at least once a week for best results.

For more thoughts about some of my favorite stories, sorted into very much defined-ad-hoc categories, read under the cut.

Young Love:

I love the myth of their first meeting, and stories that speculate about the sexually loaded creative fireworks/gritty jealousies/tentative hand-holding/topping and tailing during the first years. Here are some faves:

Paul finds music, and John, and his life is changing. In STREETS OF OUR TOWN (@with-eyes-closed) you can taste the upheaval and promise of first love and growing up. Deeply sensual, even without on-page sex. The shaky, sweet, and all-consuming fire of John and Paul’s first kiss is immortalized in ALL I KNOW SINCE YESTERDAY (RedheadAmongWolves). In NON NOBIS SOLUM (@downtothe-lastdrop), art student John simply has to know how far grammar school boy Paul will go to please him. But Paul matches him play-by-play. In THE CAST IRON SHORE (@m1ssunderstanding) Paul earns extra money through music and sex. John finds out. They fall in love, and hide their mutual pining behind transactions—but in the end, they man up to pair up, and get their band back on track. (The first part is finished; I can’t wait for part 2.) John and Paul’s ’61 trip to Paris has been honored in fiction many times; WHEN YOU ARE YOUNG THEY ASSUME YOU KNOW NOTHING (@lilypadd23) is a slow-burning, blessedly long story that blossoms sweetly. DON’T THINK ABOUT IT is the concept by which Paul measures both his pining for John and their deeply satisfying (but surely not really queer?!) sex life. Perfectly realized Paul POV by @merseydreams. Finally: I NEED YOU DARLIN’ (verse) (by @beatlessideblog) would have fit many categories, but I put it here, because in the end, it’s about young John and Paul becoming friends, making music, having sex, and falling in love. No more, no less. Embedded in a late 50’s/early 60's Liverpool omegaverse in which there's a place for their bond. But, surprise (?!): It’s still complicated. I can’t overstate how charming and satisfying and funny and hot this work is.

Old John and Paul:

Is there anything as lovely as imagining John and Paul growing old together?

In HERE TODAY (@herspecialagent), John and Paul found happiness with each other in Scotland. On 8th December 1980, they invite friends for a party, and fight an inexplicable sense of doom. A reminder that our other lives can be closer than we think, and to keep our loved ones even closer.

GROW OLD WITH ME (@inherownwr1te): Old farmers and husbands John and Paul enjoy domestic bliss, deal with a broken arm, and make sweet love.

HAVING COFFEE (@feathersandblue): John Lennon and Paul McCartney, “one of the most iconic gay couples in history,” look back on their early love, the Beatles, and being outed in the 80’s, in this oh-so-glamourous, well-written 2020 portrait…

Magical re-tellings of J/P and/or the Beatles Story:

No matter where you come down on the blessed vs. cursed continuum—they were living through something magical.

In KISSING THE BLARNEY (@zilabee) the Beatles draw love and music from kissing Paul, and each other, until the stupid world interferes. But fear not, all ends well. How to tell the truth through whimsy: this story demonstrates it.

In WE ARE ALL TOGETHER (also by @zilabee), John and Paul switch bodies. It helps.

I WAS A YOUNGER MAN NOW (THEN) (POST HOC) BY @fingersfallingupwards: Paul is a time traveler and braids his life together with John’s, out of order, through the years. And yes, they do grow old together—but not without losing each other first. I’m in awe of this story.

A darker time-traveling story is A MATTER OF TIME (D12Fan), in which John and Paul love each other, over and over, and never manage to make it work—but Paul won’t give up.

FOR THOUGH THEY MAY BE PARTED (@downtothe-lastdrop): The misery of the 'Get Back' sessions and memory-stunting technology imported from “Severance” are not enough to kill off John and Paul’s attraction and longing for each other. Again, this is basically what happened, so.

John and Paul without the Beatles?

Yes, please! Sometimes, the best way to dissect and celebrate (and fix?) this mesmerizing and exasperating partnership is to lift it from its context and drop it elsewhere. Anything goes.

WHATEVER FATE DECREES by @dailyhowl: A gorgeous, finely spun, securely handled, self-contained vision of how John and Paul could have worked as artists in love, without a band to 'legitimize' and constrain their bond. I love this homage to their deep and complicated love that needed trust and breathing room.

1967 by @walkuntilthedaylight: What if John and Paul had gone to Spain together and not come back? This story not only explores their relationship layer by layer, it also dives into the the feelings of those who knew them 'before' and who now meet them again, as a couple. A fascinating alternate history. Not a fluffy one.

TOMORROW I'LL MISS YOU (@pauls1967moustache): Paul abandons John in Hamburg—or John stays behind without bothering to write, depending on who you ask. This "Before Sunset"—AU reunites them, years later. They ride a bus and write a song, and the love and tension are sweet and painful.

DOUBLE FANTASY (by @javelinbk): Modern AU in which John and Paul meet at John's flower shop and manage to ignore and creatively re-interpret their feelings for one another for a surprising amount of time, before fate has mercy. I love how their sweet, well-matched eccentricity makes the world a warmer place for both of them.

WE ARE STARDUST (Unchained_Daisychain): AU. John and Paul meet at Woodstock, fall hard and fast for each other, and have to decide what to do with it: Paul's life is back home in England...except...

Angst, darkness, and courage:

Pain, fear, grief, and other dark emotions are part of the real J/P story, so it makes sense to honor and harvest them in fiction. One of my favorite brands of McLennon angst is the one triggered by their feelings for each other, and the thing they become once they're together™. When they're scared of how much they need each other, and of what will happen next.

ONE AND ONE AND ONE IS THREE and MANAGING EXPECTATIONS (both by @pauls1967moustache), for instance. The first is a terrifying threesome with Yoko (at John's instigation, of course), in which trust is never rewarded and sex resolves nothing. The second is Paul wondering, in thoughts both messy and crystal clear, whether he exists independently of John. He turns to Brian for answers. They fuck. It feels like a human thing compared to what is going on in Paul's mind. Just astounding.

SUNDAY DRIVER (@boshemians) dives into the theme of Paul and John being afraid of themselves in the aftermath of Paul's accident (moped, sexual) with Tara Browne. This one, like "Managing Expectations," ends on a lovely grace note.

MACABRE (@dovetailjoints). Lennon and McCartney go too far.

OPEN HEART (@paisanas). Paul drinks John's blood. John lets him. But Paul starts to hate himself for how much he needs John, which John feels as rejection. I love how this story ends on Paul embracing his need. You can see the painful, bare bones of their malnourished love under the lush sensuality of the vampire sex. Raw and rich.

SILENCE (@ohjohnnysblog). Short and piercing. If there is someone you love—tell them. Don't wait.

THE LATE, GREAT JOHNNY ACE (@midchelle). Reeling with grief, Paul is recording an album in 1981. George and Ringo are there. John is not. But in the end—he is. And they touch. I've always admired Paul's resilience in the face of having to perform or "prove" his love of John in public, and this story showed me, without sugar-coating, where this resilience comes from.

Light, hope, and fixing things:

There is also much lightness and brightness in McLennon, because John and Paul were ridiculous, and horny, and weird. And also: they deserve a laugh. They deserve the fluffiest of happy endings. They deserve high-quality, life-affirming smut. They deserve silly, because silly is what they were. You know their names, look up their number.

1980. John is in BERMUDA (@scurator), Paul visits. Paul comes prepared, John just comes. Sometimes, it can be this simple. This story always leaves me in such a good mood. Paul is the (more) experienced one, and it...really works for me.

GOT TO GET DOWN (@eveepe): In praise of John's obsession with Paul's...precious. His small and perfect prick.

ADVENTURES IN TOTAL HONESTY (@merseydreams). Pithy and sexy, and, I quote from the tags: #Excessive Margarita Mixing.

ANINUT (@pauls1967moustache): The Beatles heal, together and separately, after Brian's death. Once more, I quote the writer: "The Beatles did not follow any of the Jewish mourning traditions, and frankly, they should have."

The unhinged weirdness of the Mad Day Out, with John and Paul escaping and Francie, Yoko and Mal not missing them...much, is rightfully celebrated in one of the insaner stories I read: JOHN, I'M ONLY DANCING (@skylikeaflame)

FAIR'S FAIR (@javelinbk): John and Paul are being silly during a press conference, resulting in acute arousal requiring John's skilled intervention. I love the unexpected care and tenderness in this one!

WHERE THE POETS WENT (RedheadAmongWolves): Tender and enchanted story in which Paul and John go to a bookstore, where they're not as famous as everywhere else. As delicate as the chiming doorbells and the pages murmuring around them.

TAKEN AWAY (@crumblingcookies) Extraterrestrial Intelligence intervenes to reunite John and Paul.

CAN I TAKE MY FRIEND TO BED? (manhattanvalleys). Paul fucks the band in sequence and gets off in the end, as is his due. This is a story like Prince's KISS. No filler, all effect.

THEY SAY IT'S YOUR BIRTHDAY (@ohjohnnysblog). Warm and nostalgic phone sex in the 70's.

KEEP THE LIGHT WE'RE GIVEN (@backbenttulips). Amidst the rise of Beatlemania, Paul and John expect their first child. This is Paul's 1962 diary.

More Outsider POV's:

STILL MATES (@pauls1967moustache): in 1968, Peter Asher takes the leap to act on his feelings for his sister's spiraling ex fiancé. This isn't about Paul as much as about Peter, and who he wants to be. Gutting character study. It made me love Peter.

ANOTHER GIRL (@boshemians): Astrid reunites with the Beatles during the making of AHDN and registers their words and deeds with the same stark objectivity as her camera. I love how she seeks the shelter of obscurity while they are being dragged into the limelight. But she sees them, wherever they are. J/P in this story feels incredibly real to me.

WHY BUY THE COW (RedheadAmongWolves). The milkman sees everything on his early morning rounds: the arrival of a nice new family, the McCartneys, the mother's illness, the sadness after her death...and the arrival of a new love in the older son's life. He shouldn't approve—should say something, in fact. But a small inner voice holds him back.

SLEEPLESS IN WALES (thinkpink20). Mike overhears Paul and John whisper in bed. He doesn't understand everything they say. I do. Adorable.

Not each other's first love, but each other's true love

THIS YEAR'S FOR ME AND YOU (@skylikeaflame): After a long life, after deep and loving partnerships with other people, John and Paul, encouraged by their grown-up children, finally meet their mutual love head on. A festive story about waiting the perfect amount of time.

THERE ARE ALWAYS FLOWERS (tarenas): The Beatles are in the past; John and Paul's love is in ashes. Paul, who is fragile and bereft, lives with George, who is content. The four ex-Beatles unite for the second wedding of Mike McCartney. At times, the aching grief in this story is almost unbearable. But the love between George and Paul is unusual and real. This is unfinished. I'll keep waiting for the final chapter.

Beyond J/P

WANT ME WHEN I'M NOT THERE (@backbenttulips): Linda catches Paul cheating on her with John. She divorces him. Finally: a story that puts her most likely reaction front and center, with no mercy for the messed-up geniuses.

In the Rebecca-AU LOVE LIKE GHOSTS (@backbenttulips), Yoko becomes Mrs. Lennon. Soon, she discovers that her husband is haunted by the ghost of his first love. It's pleasing how well this re-telling matches the events as they (alas) (almost) happened. The ending is chilling. Genuinely horrifying. I love seeing Yoko as the sensible one and as the focus of empathy.

THE BASS LESSON (@aquarianshift). Paul and Stu fool around without letting go of their mutual resentment for even a moment. And it works. "Let's never do this again." I don't think so.

TELL ME ALL MY LOVE'S IN VAIN (@midchelle). Forget about quote unquote platonically obsessed male rock stars: This about about Maureen and Patti through the years. The web weaving continues.

SPOTLIGHT ON JOHN AND STU (@dailyhowl) A love story in letters—too brief, like Stu's life, but sounding as if the writer transcribed their dictation. Some of the best descriptions of what it must have been like to play on stage with the Beatles during the mania are in NO I IN THREESOME (@with-eyes-closed). George finds himself in the beam of attention between John and Paul, and nearly loses his mind. But he's determined to stay and become part of them. Paul is daddy and "fucks like music" as seen through George's eyes. The whole story is vicious and hot and uncomfortable—until there's the love and quiet at the eye of the storm.

Not for the faint of heart! WHAT THE CIGGIE CARTON SAW (@waveofhand): Paul McCartney having his way with cigarettes.

This is getting out of hand...but I'll stop here. There are so many more stories I love. And I can think of many other categories that would deserve their own post.

So, who knows: To be continued?

#fic rec #mclennon #mclennon fanfiction #mclennon fic #asks #fic recs #overall favorites fic recs

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leclsrc · 1 year

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hi, could you please do the five confessions prompt with charles?

proving my devotion – cl16

genre: fluff, sry charles is a pining yearning mess, title from this

send for five times the receiver almost says ‘i love you’ and the one time they do.

The plates clack against each other, dissonant in the otherwise still evening. Charles stacks one atop the other, awaits his mother’s nosy questioning—the inevitable gamble, every time he brings a girl home—but she’s quiet, humming a song under her breath, the one she always sings when she’s doing the dishes. Something’s different tonight, a slight change he can’t name.

“So,” he starts, because she won’t and the curiosity kills him. His eyes find you, with the ease he’s adopted in the months of knowing you, dancing with Lorenzo on the patio to a Luther Vandross song. “Thoughts?”

“Hmm. Tu es fouineur.” She teases, a glint in her eye. How the tables have turned, she seems to say.

Silently, over the dirty dishes, they both recount the day gone: the lunch moved from noon to half-past-three because Arthur burned the turkey, the dropped bottle of wine you’d gifted because one of Charles’ uncles accidentally let it slip from his hand (you said it was okay, it was just a hundred euros when it was closer to one grand), the guitar performance from Charles.

The way the sun had drowned in a sea of Monaco orange, and with it the stories of weddings, Jules, and Hervé, and the affair moved outside to the patio so Lorenzo could boast his brand new speaker that was so worth the many zeroes on the price tag, maman! And you had quickly found out Charles’ inability to dance was, in fact, genetic.

It’s a new sensation for Charles, a thrilling one, a frightening one even. He squeezes the sponge and watches soap filter through his fingers. He turns, lets his green eyes meet your soft ones. It’s an exhausting effort but he says it anyway, wrenches it out quietly: “I think… I think I…”

“I know,” Pascale says. She presses a kiss to his shoulder. “I see it.”

—

You’d taken home a frayed copy of The Little Prince you bought at a garage sale.

It’s so old, its pages have long yellowed and there’s evidence of past ownership all over it. Most notable of them is a name on the front page, along with a number that’s probably unused now. Isn’t it so quaint—and the words, babe, you’d said with conviction when he questioned your purchase, the words are in French!

You’ve been trying your luck with the language for a good few weeks, but it’s a brick wall—mur de briques, if you go by the textbook on your bedside table. You huff when you can’t translate the last lines of the passage you’re reading, tossing the book onto the empty space beside you that is quickly occupied by Charles’ bulky figure.

“Stuck again?” He asks, opening the dog-eared pages to find where your bookmark is nestled. Under your palms, you groan and nod with frustration.

“Don’t try me,” you say, voice gravelly. “I can’t translate it.”

The rough pad of his index finger traces the yellowed page, and he smiles softly at your many annotations. Verb conjugation, words you found easy, words you still forget now.

His eyes flicker up, to your lying figure, the freckles on your arms, the mole on your hip he can only see because your shorts have ridden down low. His heart swells, seizes, his mind rampant with thoughts of you. Please tell her, he says to himself. Tell her everything. Tell her how you find her in all the passages, in all the French words, in all the books, in all the times she says your name. She’s everywhere, she’s everything. Tell her tell her tell her you lo—

But the realness of it all chokes him, and he says instead, placing a big palm on your abdomen, “I’ll read it for you.”

—

There are few sentences considered odd on a paddock. People say anything on it—driver gossip, car gossip, celebrity gossip, engineer gossip. Charles can guarantee he’s heard some of the weirdest statements and Freudian slips (the one time Christian Horner called Toto ‘dad’) on a paddock.

“Carlos—pshhfhf—sprayed—pfffsh—whip cream—on my face!” …Okay, that’s. That’s different.

He turns, eyes wide. “What?!”

You stand in the doorway, frozen.

Your face is almost completely covered in white, and bits of your hair have fallen victim to the sweet spray of whip, too. You look frazzled and freaked. “I just got my hair blown out. I did my makeup. Dude. I look like a clown.”

“Oh, my God,” he says, already unable to contain his laughter. “I love you—!”

A millisecond passes him by like an hour. “—r uh, your new makeup hairdo, thing, a-ling. Thing-a-ling. Makeup. Your new makeup.”

—

There is an angel in Charles’ bed. She leaves a lovebite on his neck.

“Good morning,” he says, gruff. I love— but it stops itself before he can even open his mouth.

—

You get into a minor fight about cooking music.

Charles waves the whisk in the air, claims he will die on the hill of cooking to French jazz. You call it pretentious and crank up the Stevie Wonder. Eventually you fall into a repeated pattern of songs that satisfy the both of you.

“I read somewhere that if you roll basil up,” you say, chewing on a rogue leaf of mint from your pre-dinner mojito and walking up to him, “and chop it, it saves time trying to cut it up by itself.”

“Does it?” Charles asks, entertaining you. You roll your eyes and shove him lightly. He raises the knife in his hand, mumbles careful, baby under his breath. You insist he try, so he rolls up two leaves. Unfortunately, you’re right.

“So now we get to have pesto in five minutes instead of five hours,” you tease, kissing him. It’s minty, there’s French jazz in the background, and you’ve taught him to chop basil in the most affectionate soft-spoken way possible. It’s sacred. He’s afraid, he’s always been, that he would never be able to say it, that it would always be a losing game of wrestling words out of his throat—but now he’s not.

“I love you,” he mutters. It’s easy, unforced, natural. The words find solace, find home in the warm kitchen. He refuses to open his eyes because God knows what you’ll say then. Run away maybe? Throw all the basil to the ground? Down the entire cooler of mojito?

Your silence is deafening. “Did you hear me?” He opens his eyes.

A foolishly pretty smile greets him. “I got it the first five times.”

#f1 #charles leclerc #leclsrc2000 #charles leclerc x reader #charles leclerc imagines #charles leclerc drabble #charles leclerc smut #f1 x reader

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minkdelovely · 2 months

Text

love and power

✧ ✧ ✧ ✧ ✧ ✧ ✧ ✧ ✧ ✧ ✧ ✧ ✧

prelude

“ask for forgiveness,

never permission.”

Alastor x Fem!Reader ; MDNI 18+ ; [y/n] used sparingly ; Alias in Hell is Sylvie

tags: acid rain wound, cannibals living their best lives in cannibal town, slow burn eventual: smut, violence, toxic themes

word count: 1.7k

hello world! i currently have alastor brain rot and felt compelled to jump back into writing fan fiction. i’m a little rusty and i’m not sure how many parts there will be; i won’t deny that this is purely self-indulgent but i hope you enjoy all the same :)

prelude ; chapter one ; chapter two ; chapter three ; chapter four ; chapter five ; chapter six ; chapter seven

✧ ✧ ✧ ✧ ✧ ✧ ✧ ✧ ✧ ✧ ✧ ✧ ✧

Hell wasn’t what you had expected it to be. It was worse.

Thoughts of your grandmother rose to your mind, despite how desperately you tried to push them down. “Hell is the absence of God,” she would always say after one of her famous rants. A warning you perhaps would have heeded, had it been coming from a place of love instead of moral superiority.

You had seen her on the streets of Hell a few times now, always sure to avoid catching her attention. The warm pleasure that bloomed in your chest was too precious to give up, despite knowing how good it would feel to rub her fate in her face. A lot of good all those Sunday mornings had done her, haughty bitch! You wondered how often your grandmother laid awake at night, desperate to know how she had ended up here. A wicked grin spread across your lips, revealing milky-pink fangs.

It was hard not to imagine the look your father would have given you if you could tell him she was here. He would definitely have scolded you, but you knew a small part of him would be amused. If calling her a bad grandmother was putting it lightly, she was an even worse mother-in-law. Hopefully you would never get the chance to tell him; Mother was waiting for him in Heaven, after all. And things should be much easier for him now, all things considered. Leaving him alone hadn’t been part of the plan, so all you could do was tell yourself that it had been worth it. Someday you would believe it.

Grandmother was right though, loathe as you were to admit it, and the feeling of loss burned through you every morning when you awoke. Every night, you dreamed of rain; the sound of it, the smell of it, the feeling of it coming down on you in the middle of the family garden. Oh, how you missed the garden. The dark, wet dirt. Blue puffs of hydrangea against stark-white azaleas, your mother’s coveted yellow roses. The Spanish Moss hanging like phantom sails off the branches of the huge oak tree in the corner, where your father had placed a bench and made a small pond. You would sit under that tree for hours lost in a book, listening to the sounds of the garden.

The fire and brimstone you could endure. It was the way everything else was twisted here that was grueling. As if feeling your lament, a drop of acid rain hit your window, quickly morphing into a full-blown storm. A frustrated growl erupted from you and you rolled onto your stomach, burying your head under your pillow and said a silent prayer to whatever force would grant mercy on your roof. You couldn’t afford to get it fixed again. The prayer had been answered just a moment after the rain stopped, when a drop of it fell from the ceiling and onto your pale, unsuspecting calf, your mattress absorbing the scream of pain that tore through your chest.

As the acid made its way through your leg, and eventually your mattress, all you could do was sob. Eternity… This was eternity.

✧ ✧ ✧ ✧ ✧ ✧

If this morning had been good, the day could only now be considered grand.

There was really nothing quite like a post-rain stroll through Cannibal Town, witnessing the misfortune of partially-dissolved sinners who had been caught in the deluge being consumed on the streets by the lively, ever-hungry inhabitants. Alastor would never tire of this jovial bunch that called this part of the Pentagram home, reveling in the sound of screams, the crunching of bone, the almost-lewd and animalistic grunts of feasting.

Were Rosie not expecting him for tea, he might have allowed himself to join in on the fun. Alas, his only solace was that Rosie never served anything less than superb, being the excellent hostess that she is.

He was quite intrigued by her invitation to join her alone, which meant that this likely wasn’t anything to do with donating a small army of cannibals to aid in the fight against the Angels. Indeed, Charlie’s presence would be required once it was time to cash that favor in.

Not that he didn’t enjoy a casual visit (as casual a visit between Overlords could be), he couldn’t help but wonder. Thinking a few steps ahead was a must if one was going to thrive in Hell, and well, it was no secret that Alastor was doing a pretty fine job at that, all things considered. He began to whistle, earning a few gory smiles from cannibals who stopped mid-meal to enjoy the tune. A true honor.

Rosie opened the door for him before he even had the chance to knock, the “Closed for Rain” sign clattering against the glass as she cooed. “Alastorrr! Come in, come in, before it starts raining again.”

As if on queue, a roll of thunder tore through the clouds, drawing a cheer from the denizens of Cannibal Town in anticipation for round two.

“Rosie, my dear, always an honor and a privilege to be deemed worthy of your company,” Alastor said, bowing his head as Rosie feigned a blush, leading him to the parlor where they would be taking their tea.

The usual pleasantries were exchanged between sips of tea, coffee, and candied organs, which Alastor forced himself to consume through sheer courtesy. It was all part of the art of visiting, one he quite enjoyed, and he would never shame his mother’s memory with bad manners. They had just finished a plate of finger sandwiches when Rosie leaned in slightly, the conspiring grin on her face letting him know that it was, at last, time for business.

“You’re always so good to indulge me, Alastor. It doesn’t go unnoticed,” she said, grinning as she motioned to a maid to come grab their empty plates. “I’m sure you’ve been dying to know why I asked you over here this afternoon.”

“Oh, Rosie, it’s purely selfish! You know how hard it is to find good company in this godforsaken place. I’m more than grateful to receive your hospitality,” he said with a trademark smile and flick of the wrist, leaning back in his chair as the maid cleared the table.

She had just turned to leave with their plates when the smile on his face nearly faltered. Was that… almond he smelled? It had been so long, but he was fairly certain it was. There was an underlying trace of blood, though that was common enough around here. But almond? It was too pleasant for Hell.

Rosie’s eyes darkened to match her grin, not missing the twitch of Alastor’s mouth. She knew he’d have been able to smell it. It seemed that so far only Hellborn could pick it up, but what would be the fun in letting him know that?

“Divine, isn’t she? A walking pastry, but not much of a talker. I like to bring her around whenever a room needs some pizzazz! She would’ve been eaten alive had I not taken her in,” Rosie whispered cheekily, as the maid returned with a fresh kettle and a gelatin mold for dessert. Rosie, not missing a beat once the tray had been set down, turned to her with a smile. “Thank you dear, you can leave now. I’ll ring the bell if we need anything else.”

The maid gave a silent curtsy and left the room as instructed, her sweet scent clinging to the air. Since coming to Hell, he took pleasure in the taste of bloody iron, the bite of black coffee. But in life… Memories of marzipan and frangipane tarts swam in his mind. And hadn’t Mother used almonds in her cherry pie crust? It took Alastor all he had not to drool, unsettled by the sudden rush of saliva in his mouth. Ages had passed since he last thought of such sweet things. He cleared his throat with as much grace as he could muster. Rosie only grinned.

“Well, she’s certainly new, so I suppose it’s not surprising she doesn’t talk much. It’s quite easy to tell when a sinner is… adjusting. So morose! You’re very gracious to have taken her on.” Alastor took a sip of coffee, desperate to get that almond smell out of his nostrils.

“We both seem to be rather gracious these days, don’t you think?”

And there it was.

Rosie sat back in her chair and crossed her legs as she continued. “I was actually wondering if perhaps she might fare better in that hotel you’re running. Don’t get me wrong, she smells incredible, but fuck does she suck the air out of a room once the novelty wears off. She was scaring away clients, and you know it’s pretty bad if cannibals are uneasy around you for Christ’s sake, which is why I had her start working back here, but…”

Alastor had to resist gripping his knee, putting all his effort into maintaining a pleasant face. He had expected to be asked for a favor of sorts, but never did he imagine that Rosie wanted him to take on an employee. She’s had sinners sign contracts for little less than a new parasol, let alone a job. There was something more to this.

And beyond being an air freshener, what good was she for, really? He could deal with quiet, but to have to put up with yet another sulky face! What he had done to deserve it, he didn’t know.

But he knew there wasn’t really a choice other than to take the poor creature into his charge. Rosie was an alley he deeply cherished, and he was already in her debt for the help she had provided just weeks ago. This was no doubt the first part of paying that debt back, a sign of goodwill. Not every deal was beneficial from the start; still, Alastor wouldn’t outright accept the offer. That was part of the fun.

“Well we already have a maid,” Alastor said gently, “but after the recent renovation, we are anticipating more sinners to check in. Not that I doubt Niffty’s abilities, but I suppose she could do with some help when business picks up. How long were you thinking of lending her to our cause?”

Rosie waved her hand. “Lend? Oh, honey, if you’re willing to take her, she’s yours. I’ve got plenty of helping hands, but it does me no good to have such a wet blanket hanging around. There’s just the matter of…,” Rosie trailed off as she reached into her purse, retrieving what Alastor already knew she had been grabbing for, “…her contract.”

✧ ✧ ✧ ✧ ✧ ✧ ✧ ✧ ✧ ✧ ✧ ✧ ✧

#hazbin hotel #hazbin hotel fan fiction #alastor hazbin hotel #alastor the radio demon #alastor x reader #alastor x female reader #alastor smut #hazbin hotel smut #song fic #if i can’t have love i want power #love and power #x reader #slow burn #the radio demon #hazbin hotel slow burn

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morallyinept · 5 months

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Summary: Joel Miller comes back into your life unexpectedly after a gap of thirty years, and stirs up all kinds of memories and longing. Now, as you're stationed on an outpost for five days alone with the man you stupidly let go of all those years ago, you have a chance to confront him about your past life together and all the things you wished you’d said and done.

But Joel’s different now, and you know you need to tread carefully. Joel Miller is not the same man you once knew in another life.

A slow burn romance set in the post apocalyptic world, approx. twenty or so years after the initial Cordyceps outbreak.

Pairing: Post-Outbreak Joel Miller x MatureF!Reader (No name or physical description of reader. However reader is of a similar age range as Joel; in her late forties/early fifties. Joel is slightly older at 56.)

Chapter word count: 4.8k

Series Masterlist

☝🏻See Series Masterlist for full smut warnings & triggers in this story. Chapters that contain smut or triggers will be highlighted in the chapter notes below. 👇🏻

Chapter notes: You and Joel finally - finally! - get close and embrace your feelings. Detailed descriptions of smut.

☝🏻 I WILL NO LONGER BE ADDING NEW TAGS due to some of them not working as they should, despite me tagging, so please ensure you're following me and turn on notifs so you don't miss an update on this story.

Enjoy! 🖤

Previous Chapter

You wake, what feels like an eternity later, but has only been hours, with your head stuffed into the crook of Joel's swamping armpit; the material slightly damp there, from sweat or the possibility of your own saliva pooling in your cheek.

He's asleep, snuffling gently, and the shack is thrust into the pale blues of the night as it carries its silent eeriness with it.

You stir gently so as not to disturb him; your arm numb that’s been crushed under your weight, and stand feeling your legs come back to life.

You step over the wayward bullets scattered on the floor from your panic earlier, transported back to the steady thrum of your heart, mirroring Joel’s movements as you fired at the infected. Keen and unwavering, the world narrowed into single points of focus as you cleared the way for him.

In that moment of controlled chaos, the world reset. A formidable duo against the canvas of the wild, standing as a bulwark against the horrors screeching to get you. A new kinship forged through shared missions and unspoken trust that had never really dissipated, despite the passage of time passing between you.

You felt it then. And you were certain he did too.

The scent of gunpowder lingers on your top, your skin, merging with the organic perfume of the wilderness outside. Approaching the window, you peer out carefully and the valley is still and infected free, aside from the corpses that still litter it from the attack.

Joel’s flooding your line of sight again; shooting at them with a calm rhythm that sends you back into that moment when that unspoken tether between you both convinced you this was all too real.

Funny thing about staring death in the face...

The kiss, God the kiss. You can still taste it on your mouth. Feel Joel’s tongue slip inside and search you out, taste him.

A moment carved out in the brutal landscape of survival, where every ounce of tenderness is a precious commodity and he was feeding it to you, a succinct piece of himself that you'd craved and missed terribly.

The absence of him only amplified now that he's in your personal space.

So many years wasted. So much regret.

So much to say, but how do you even begin? How can you start to tell him that you’ve felt out of sync, incomplete, for over thirty years? It feels like standing on an emotional plateau, the expanse of your failings spread out below. Each step requires careful negotiation over that craggy peak; a perilous dance between intimacy and self-preservation.

You reach for some water, refreshing your mouth and cooling you in the summer heat that still clings to your clammy skin.

Throughout your life, you'd often play this encounter out in your mind with sweet lucidity; something to bring you comfort and cling onto as you shivered in the cold, or maybe some petulant delusion that refused to relinquish its hold from the ledge. Either way you couldn’t have predicted that it would actually birth into fruition through a tiresome and painful labour.

And now that Joel is so within your grasp, reaching out and clutching onto you with two tired, calloused hands, you can’t help but to speculate and ponder on how you can both navigate forward together in this wilderness called living now, despite your mind trying out the slay of convincing you that you shouldn’t question it; you shouldn’t look for holes to pick at and make wider, bloodier.

He’s here and that’s all that matters, right?

A sleepy grunt from Joel stirs your gaze to his direction on the cot, leaving your muddled thoughts to tumble at your feet; a warm mountain of a silhouette unmoved and lost somewhere inside a dream as he clings to the fading remnants of it.

You smile recalling the sincerity of his words. The fact that he still feels it between you both; he never forgot, like you didn’t. You feel it finally warm the cold channels of your veins.

Time is fleeting, a verklempt commodity carrying nostalgia in its blood. Moving at speeds hard to comprehend, and a whole lifetime has almost passed by you both. You wonder how it could be that you’ve got so lucky to have a second chance, when most people in this world hadn’t begun to embrace their first. Their chances were gone, stripped from them and buried in the ground littered with bones.

It only makes you feel some swill of remorse; some ebb of guilt rises up out of the weeds with a small, fluffy head. You shake your head physically as the shadows of doubt recess back into the depths of your cranium.

Too much time has been wasted and you’re determined not to waste anymore. Not now, not when at any moment Joel could be lost to you again through this world digging its feral claws in and ripping him from your clutch.

The heat beads on the back of your neck, a stickiness all over that you feel, more prominently between your legs as it registers.

He’s here and you want him, more than you’ve ever wanted anything.

You swallow the water down, failing to extinguish the burning; the sparks flaring inside your chest full of hunger and need. You make your way back over to him, climbing back on the cot beside him.

His arms gravitate to you instinctively as he wakes.

He smiles in some lazy contentment as you feel warm in his grip.

“What time is it?” Joel murmurs out groggily into the blue fade, a heavy exhale from his nostrils warms your face.

“Late, probably.” You caress your fingers through his hair.

He hums out softly with the smile spreading wider on his lips. He’s so beautiful, even more so in this life now. You examine his aging face in the dying, inky light and take note of all the lines and wrinkles that have set up shop around his eyes and forehead.

He blinks the sleep away, setting his focus on you from curious brown orbs that appear like black glass in the encroaching dark.

“How’s the back?” You query gently. His hand, weathered by life’s challenges, finds a home over yours as you weave through his silvery flecked locks.

“A bit better now.” He says as you peer into him. You're certain he can feel your heart, hear it even, as you rest against the bulky frame of him. “Did ya sleep?” He queries trying to stifle a yawn.

“Mm.” You nod gently.

“Should probably move,” he goes to shift, but you stop him with a gentle palm to his chest, and he eyes you softly; his digits find yours, squeezing gently, when they start wandering over his sternum over the bobbling flannel.

“Don’t you dare.” You shake your head, eyes getting lost and tangled in his own.

A charged stillness hangs between you until you press your lips to his gently, and he doesn’t resist. Melting into you, with a sigh of relief, as his other hand sweeps up your back and clutches you tightly to him.

Joel moans into your mouth, filling you with helium and making you float slowly into the ether. Your head is dizzy, your stomach simmers as his tongue sweeps around yours tasting all your colours.

Joel kisses you as though he's chronically starved of affection as well as nourishment, hungry. He could gorge on you forever, filling himself up on you as his moans and clicks of his mouth confirm these promises to you.

Your heart quickens, you’re convinced you can taste it in your throat, standing on the threshold of a reunion that’s been three decades in the making. Time and the relentless hardships of survival have etched their marks on your faces, your bodies, but beneath the surface, the familiarity of your shared history lingers, burning brighter between you.

The touch, once so familiar, sparks a resonance that reverberates through the years, rekindling the flame that had never truly extinguished between you. It’s very much alive in the way he holds you close, how he gasps into your mouth.

How you know he wants this; wants you just as much.

You shift, straddling over him and then you feel him; excited and wanting as he grows hard between your thighs. Joel growls and delicately pinches your bottom lip between his teeth as you rub yourself against him, the delicious friction winding you up tighter.

“Ya still want me?” He puffs letting your lip go. It’s more a desperate, resounding plea than an actual question. A slight tone of weariness, caution - a faint ebb of fear - laces his voice.

“Always,” you gasp and he grunts. "Always, Joel."

He pulls back, watching you in the shadows and how your eyes find him and pull him under your hypnotic spell. He could never resist you; even with a shot to fuck back and the length of time that has separated you, he’ll find a way to be inside you again. To be at one with you.

To make you come undone and feed him all the pieces of you he’s missed out on for so fucking long - he decides instantly the pain later will be worth it.

“Haven’t even touched ya yet, but ya heart is racin’.” Joel breathes against your face in a coarse whisper.

“How do you know that?” You pant, a catch in your breath.

“‘Cause mine is.” He takes your hand, flattens it to his chest and you feel that thrumming metronome like he said.

“Joel,” you groan. "I want you."

You take his mouth again, smiling. It’s pure fucking bliss; the swirling, sucking and licking of that darned tongue, reminding you of all the ways he knows how to use it. His languorous kiss makes every nerve tingle, every heated shudder birth within your bones, sending you towards the edge already.

His hands, albeit shaky, begin to map the old routes of your body he once knew so well. Trailing all the contours of you, running up your back, down to your hips, squeezing along your ass and thighs. Rising up over the mounds of your breasts where he caresses and squeezes gently as he swallows your pants and gasps as he reminds you of his protective grip.

Your fingers fumble with his shirt buttons, he sits upright with a slight wince as his back cracks, shaking free of the offending item, eager to have you touch him.

You plant kisses over his broad, bruised shoulders, running your hands down the sculpted muscle of his tan arms. His chest is littered with a few moles; whitened scars that you run your fingers over and long to hear the stories of their origin, even if they're painful for him to revisit. You want to know it all.

You scratch your fingers in the soft greying hairs on his chest, tracing patterns in the freckles dotted over him like constellations.

Joel’s hands relinquish you of your top kissing over your skin, and finally your bra, and rather than hide from him, you reveal yourself in your aged flesh and graces.

Breasts that aren't as perky as they once were, skin mottled with your own scars and blemishes. He can see the echoes of the young, wily woman he once knew in the lines of your face, and as he looks upon you now, he relishes the resilience, the tenacity.

The way you can still take his breath away as you hear it dislodge in his throat.

“Ya beautiful,” he husks. And you believe it.

His mouth latches onto your nipple, sucking it into that warm, wet orifice and making you whine as he flicks his tongue against it.

“Mmm,” you breathe out as the hardened nub tingles inside his mouth. You feel it rush over your body, toying with your core as he kisses and licks.

He pushes his hips upwards and you feel him rut against your centre as he gets comfortable on the cot squeaking beneath you both.

You groan out and reach down; your hand sliding down his wide chest and over the swell of his tummy paunch, travelling between you both to feel him out over his jeans.

He audibly grunts as you reach him, squeezing and rubbing gently over him, and your nipple slips out of his mouth.

“Can’t guarantee I’ll last. S’been too long.” He blushes as you palm against him.

You shush him with your fingertips to his mouth, he kisses them gently as they traverse his lips. “It doesn't matter. I just want you, Joel."

“Ya want me, darlin’?” He asks again, heavy gravel plinking out his mouth like gold nuggets.

“I want you inside me,” you whine with so much need strangling your voice that it could be pathetic. But neither of you care right now.

"Always loved bein' inside ya."

He unbuckles his belt as you rid yourself of your jeans and panties, and are back in his lap wholly naked and bare.

His fingers find your bubbly seam, probing at the sticky folds there and he groans out. A delicate exploration, one that tantalises and teases, as he brushes up to your swollen clit and presses against it, watching you react and buck in his lap.

You watch as he tastes his fingers, sucking them clean of your slick and eyeing you as he does so. You instantly melt, your body fizzing.

You pull him into a kiss, tasting yourself on his lips as two of his thick fingers slide up into your pussy; your thighs are seated over his and open for him to whelve.

He sucks on your bottom lip as he slips them in and out, gently curling them against your spot that he finds so easily; muscle memory of your wet cunt that he never forgot.

Once he finds it again, he’s merciless in your undoing.

“So fuckin’ wet for me, darlin’.” He purrs; he’s your complete annihilation as he furrows and strokes deeper pulling those noises out of you he never forgot the sheet music too. "Goddamn..."

“Joel,” you murmur into his mouth feeling him pull you closer to the edge as he fucks you slowly with his thick digits. A fusion of rediscovery and the familiarity of long-lost passion that you don’t ever want to end.

"Aw God… such a beautiful cunt ya've got. Fuck, I missed this." He sighs as he listens to your mewls, your breaths.

The filth from his mouth makes you blind, eyes glazing over as your irises and pupils sink into the whites. Your insides clench around his fingers furrowing deeper in rapture.

"Joel, you feel so good. Oh my God..."

"Just wanna make ya feel good too, darlin'."

“Please, don’t stop.”

"M'never gonna stop."

You reach down and feel the weight of him in your palm, leaking into it as you massage up and down. He hisses and groans, his face running against yours and scratching at your cheeks with his soft scruff as you familiarise yourself with his cock that’s so hard and heavy.

You can feel it throb around your fingers as you work him up; pulsing, he’s a quivering bundle of muscles shaking against your body. Re-discovering all the delicious things that make him whimper, pant and shake like he’s terrified.

“Fuck,” he whines. He remembers this, remembers your touch. Revels in it and craves more as he shudders for breath. His energy, his vibrations getting tangled up in you as you pump him slowly.

“Mmm, Joel,” you pant as he feels you tense around him. Your pussy squeezing as your own grip around his dick falters a little. You can feel it deep in your belly, blooming and buzzing through all your nerve endings; that heat starting to engulf you.

He recognises it; that sweet moment when you tense up fully right before you become boneless flesh in his arms. He’s missed this so fucking much; the feel of your pussy so wet and dripping for him. The way your body shakes like a constant earthquake clacking against his ribs. The tingles on his skin as you moan and pant for him.

The rush he gets when you tell him you’re about to come for him.

“Come for me, darlin’,” he coaxes. “Been so long, let me have it.”

And you do, clenching around his fingers as you soak them; your orgasm peaks through you and makes your thighs shudder.

It’s glorious, fuck it’s like staring into the sun and seeing it for days after when you shut your eyes, burned into the back of your eyelids.

“Fuck!” You caterwaul.

Your body unkinks itself from being coiled up for so, so long. Your eyes water, a silly thing you are, as you feel it bloom and flower; the scents fill your nose with recognition, with remembrance as your orgasm greets you with wide, open arms.

Hello, old friend. I’ve missed you.

His hand grasps yours with an urgency that betrays the years of separation. His touch is electric, sending shivers down your spine. Your palms pressed together, fingers interlocking, squeezing as you come.

“Joel, I need you,” you sigh, begging into his shoulder trying not to drool over it. An unrelenting schism of his name uttered from your lips as you rattle and shake around him. “Please, please…”

And you begging him is his complete undoing.

The head of his cock is swollen and poking excitedly through the uncut skin. He runs his thumb over the gooey bulb; massaging the sticky secretions of glossy precum into it, making his hips buck weakly as he lines it up with your sopping slit.

You feel him, right there on the cusp.

A few pounding beats of realisation that you’re finally both here. Hearing your mutual breathing all around you, echoing like it’s been slowed down and turned up full blast; that laboured hmm-haa as you’re finally connected when he pushes in.

That lingering pause between you both where nothing exists around you anymore. It's just you and him.

The world can burn outside, the horrors and the creatures within can devour it - it doesn't matter. You’re here, he’s here with you.

He’s inside you.

He’s all you need to breathe as you pry your useless lungs from your chest and toss them aside like silk ribbons flying in the wind.

“Ah fuck.” Joel whines out as you sink down fully on him, feeling him stretch you out again after a long hiatus.

He groans out, that choked gasp in your ear as he enters you, flooding down your spine. The cords in his neck tensing; that deep, guttural sound when a man finds his pleasure reverberating out down the valley outside.

He always grunted when he slid inside you. That familiar whine of him escaping him a short, gruff burst sending your skin alight. Every hair on your body responds to him as he claims you again after a thirty year or so hiatus.

Your lips, once a mystery he thought he'd forgotten, are now an irresistible temptation as he kisses you again, deep and with an intensity that burns you up. Savouring it, relishing the feel of it after so long.

You realise he’s not simply fucking you, he’s making love to you.

Tiny pricks of pain are felt deep in your core as he slowly bottoms out and your cunt remembers the shape of him as he fills you fully.

“Ya pussy was made for me to fill it, darlin’. Still so fuckin’ tight.” He groans.

You coo, gripping him as he squeezes at your hips greedily. That single sheath of him into you takes your breath away, and for a moment it’s like you can’t breathe.

All oxygen is stripped from you and floating in a void of nothing where it’s only Joel; the feel of him inside you again at long last and the way he’s staring back at you as though he can’t believe that it’s just happened himself makes your eyes water again.

“Ya feel so fuckin’ good. Mmph… just like I ‘member.” He pants through delicate, desperate pecks at your face.

It’s a collision of pent-up desire, a reckoning of the years you’ve spent apart. The taste of familiarity mingled with the urgency of the present, creating a heady cocktail that intoxicates you both.

“I remember you too, Joel.” You nuzzle into him, clinging onto his broad shoulders. “God, your cock is still so huge.” You gasp with a bewildered giggle. It’s perfectly unbearable as you grind slowly on it.

“Yeah?” He smirks. “So big it’ll rip ya open, huh? Ain’t that what ya used to say?” He teases.

A small, juddery chuckle escapes you and he feels you clamp round his cock as you do. Joel shunts his hips upward once and it hits you, all the way deep in the furthest reaches of your cervix and you cry out.

"Like that, remember?" He croons.

"F-fuck, yes!"

He does it again and you claw at his skin desperately with your nails.

"Joel!"

He does it again. And again, until he settles into a heady rhythm as he fills you with each thrust, your clit grinding against his pubic bone deliciously.

You’re mewling, clutching onto him as you remember his body connected to yours like this and experience it again all over for the first time.

Your hips meet his every snap with a wet mash as you take him in. He packs you out, rubbing against the right spots and you start to see chrome stars gathering under your eyelids again.

“Joel,” you mewl as the tension starts stiffening your vertebrae straight and spreads into your pelvis, locking up around him. Your walls flutter and squeeze and he groans the most delicious sound in your ear.

Every touch, every caress, carries the weight of history - a brutal history that begs to be rewritten. The grittiness of your pasts fuel the fire, and the room becomes a battleground of desire and the utmost acquiescence.

“Mmm, don’t stop,” you plead as he smothers you wholly. Your head feels like it no longer belongs on your neck, your eyes are rolling back as though you're possessed.

Your body snaps back, letting go. You shake; your cunt clenching, soaking. Surrendering wholly to him.

“That’s m’girl," he pants. "That’s m’fuckin' girl!” Joel praises as you flood his throbbing cock.

All gentle masculinity gone as he grabs you tightly, shunting your hips against him; leaving bruises in your skin to bloom into violet flowers as he fucks you through your peak.

You cry out, constricting around him. Feeling it ripple all over your body; punching glitter out of your back in colourful, metallic bursts. You throw your head back taking in a deep, heavy hit of oxygen, but there is none when you’re this far thrown up into the universe.

The feel of his hot breath against your neck and the slither of his wet tongue leave aftershocks flooding through you. His arms crush you closer as he continues to wind and flex.

You look at him when you resurrect from the dead, and he smiles crookedly through those pink lips you need to taste again. He’s not lost it, that ability to leave you absolutely wrecked as though high on some wondrous drug.

And like an addict, you’ll always crave him.

You kiss him deeply and he completely surrenders too.

“M’gonna come,” Joel husks, sweat from his forehead sticking to your face. You want it; you taste it on your lips and lick the salt of it up.

“Come inside me,” you mewl.

“Ya sure?” He queries with weak, desperate trepidation.

You nod. “Fill me up, Joel. It's okay." You assure.

Little breaths of "fuckfuckfuck" puff out of him on a ragged whisper as he feels your pussy milking him until he’s coming deep inside of you; spraying you down with that thick pearly warmth.

His body jolts and his grip tightens further into your hip skin as he releases. Feeling your pussy pulse and rib around him from the sensitivity; those fluttering twitches against his shaft squeeze him further into an utter brain dead mess.

“Aaw fuck.” He whines gently.

You kiss all over his sweaty face until his lips latch onto yours and he groans contentedly into your wet cheek flesh.

You both rock to a slow gradual halt; staying sheathed on him until your centre becomes a faintly ebbing contraction of muscle that eventually stills and leaks him out down his balls.

Joel’s voice is a gravelly whisper finding you in the violet hues of the dark and being strangled.

“Ya kill me, darlin’.”

You stroke through his curls, untamed and damp at the back of his neck. His arms hold you close, pressing you to his chest as he plants kisses along your collarbone.

You pull his head up and look at his face, into his sleepy, dreamy eyes. His beard isn't full, in fact it reminds you of a teenager trying to grow one and being left with patchy fluff. It's greying slightly in some places, towards his ears and chin as you run your fingernails through it scritching gently. But the moustache is thick, despite being short enough to see and taste his pink chapped lips.

So you do; a deep kiss that melds your skin and binds you to his. He kisses back deeply and then plants an amuse-bouche of little tender kisses over your lips and chin to seed and grow.

“I… love you, Joel,” you say as you pull away from him.

You can’t help it, you always have. It just flows naturally, feels right.

And the lesson here is not to let things fester. Seize the moment in this crazy, horrific world. Too long have you spent feeling incredibly bereft of hope. A complete immolation of you as you fight and bolster, endure and survive.

This can't be all there is left in this world. There has to be more. And you found it, you finally fucking found it.

Kelper was right, he was right to bring you back, he was right to breathe life back into you. He knew, that bastard just knew. You smile, thinking of his face when he'll say he told you so.

Joel nudges his forehead to yours and breathes out in sweet relief. “I never stopped lovin’ ya.” He replies. “Not really.”

You sniff trying to stop the tears, but they fall onto his thumbs as he holds your face close to his. He can taste them on his lips, drinks them down as you let them go, free falling to their death as they take some of the grief and suffering with them, lightening the load.

It shifts. You don't know how or why or when. Just dwelling in his energy now, rather than the lines around his eyes.

They're still beautiful, Joel's looks have only gotten better with age, you’ve deduced, but it's not the thing that’ll steal your breath now. No, it's the subtleties. The way he glows inwardly when you catch a rare smile he throws you in the shack. The safety you feel in the weight of his arms right now that stops the worry and angst of his absence for decades almost immediately. It's in the words he doesn't say, because he doesn't have to say them.

And sometimes he can’t, and that will be alright.

You realise that Joel now in this world, is the man you've always wondered what it could be like to be loved by. Joel back then wasn't ready. Wasn't mature enough. He hadn't had everything stripped from him so he could appreciate the small things, the finer details. That comfort in silence, that warmth of a body that just wants to be next to him because they simply enjoy his bruised weight crushed against them.

And as you rest contended against him, slowly allowing yourself to shed some of those crusted layers of pain in salt water tracks, Joel does the same as he contemplates this too.

As he allows himself a moment to see in the opaque fog as it starts to shift and thin out.

He knows he loves you; that he loved you back then, and loves you now.

Love is no longer some massively unattainable thing that needs to be filled with capitalist sentiment to be brought. Love, to Joel, is in the small things unnoticeable by others.

In a world when you have nothing, sometimes forgoing even the basics, like food; love is the thing that will be savoured when it’s found, taken care of. Not tossed around so foolishly or frivolously like before.

Love is to be planted, grown and watered; tended to every day. It's leaves smoothed and rubbed gently between a finger and thumb. Pruned and clipped so it can bloom into something beautiful that he can dare to enjoy in this rotten world that has already taken so much from him.

And he refuses to lose anything else - he can’t. He's just one fucking man, he can't.

“S'never gonna be enough,” he murmurs a little while later as you’re laying in his arms on the cot.

Both naked and he’s running his hand down the length of your spine leaving goose pimples. “But I got as much love in me to give as ya fuckin’ need.” His voice is in the roots of your hair. "I dunno if it’s gonna be easy, if I’m gonna be easy at times… But m'gonna try. I want to."

You smile with wet eyes, and place a kiss just below his nipple. “You’ll always be more than enough, Joel.” You lift your head to find him in the dark. “You’re everything.”

Joel’s arms cradle you so tightly that he could snap your bones.

“M’not goin’ anywhere, darlin’. It’s you n’ me now, okay?”

To be continued...

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here4kpopfics · 3 months

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Pieces of Greece | KNJ & KSJ

Pairing: Kim Seokjin x Kim Namjoon x reader Genre: smut, a little fluff, a whole lot of bickering AU: established relationship, fwb to lovers Wordcount: 17,100 on the dot Summary: After the events during Christmas in the Swiss mountains, your boyfriend Namjoon wants to go to Greece for his birthday. And, of course, another surprise in the form of Kim Seokjin. Warnings: There's. So. Much. Smut. Plane sex, voyeurism, exhibitionism, Namjoon loves to watch but this time he gets to participate. ice play, threesomes the entire time. DVP fun time, creampie, oral in every which way, unprotected sex, it goes on. mxm moments that make my heart happy. IT'S SMUT WITH SOME PLOT OKAY. Rating: M / 18+ AN: Sooooooooooooooo....Many many many many months ago, someone asked if there'd ever be a sequel. i joked there would be a summer vacation. then summer happened and nothing was written. Then I met my favorite @echotoyou and well, they said they loved Swiss Miss and I mentioned the thought of a sequel and they got excited and then Namjoon's birthday was coming up and i thought fuck it and THEY ASKED FOR MOST OF THE SMUT IN THIS OKAY. so this is for my baby starcandy. i love you so much, i hope you enjoy. Thank you to my lovely @theharrowing for beta-reading and @classicscreations for the banner/divider. Also tagging @simp47koreancrackheads for reasons. Enjoy!!! 💜Masterlist | AskBox | AO3

When Namjoon brought up the idea of an end of summer vacation for his birthday, you were hesitant at first. Last time you let him plan a vacation, he dragged you to the Swiss mountains and it was miserable.

Well…not all of it was miserable.

Seokjin being your Christmas present made up for the freezing mountain getaway.

It’s been almost nine months since then. Seokjin’s been away filming and being a gorgeous model, but you both still kept in contact. The three of you agreed it’d be okay to send photos of you in lingerie sets, Namjoon taking it a step further to send videos of you riding his cock, begging to come. Seokjin would send videos back, specifically to you, of his hand stroking his cock until he was a moaning mess, coming all over himself.

The two of you met up with him a few times since Christmas. Once in February, once in April, and the last time being very briefly in July when Namjoon watched on as Seokjin fucked you so ridiculously that you squirted all over the hotel bed while he erupted inside of you.

As far as you were concerned, your relationship with Namjoon was technically still monogamous. At least, until Seokjin became involved and suddenly he was the added friend with benefits for you. Namjoon and Seokjin never got involved with one another; your boyfriend only ever watching on as his best friend fucked you sensless, and fucking you right after so your last orgasm was from the man you loved.

You understood Namjoon loved to watch. Every time you’d look over at him slowly rubbing his hard cock, either with his hand coated in your arousal or with your underwear, his eyes would be watching the faces you’d make in pleasure or the way Seokjin’s cock pounded into you. But there was always a moment where it felt like he wanted to be involved. You’ve tried to ask, but could never find a way to bring it up.

So you agreed to the trip, hoping you’d get the chance to ask at some point.

“Joon, what’d the attendant say?” Your boyfriend makes his way back to where you’re sitting in the terminal, wearing a long summer dress with thin straps. Your flight’s been delayed an hour at this point, and you’re feeling just a tad bit suffocated in this airport that conveniently has the air conditioning down for maintenance.

“Good news and bad news.” He sighs, plopping down in the seat next to you, “which do you want first?”

“Always start with the bad.”

“Bad news is it’s another ‘forty-five minutes at least’ until we can board.” He pauses for your groan of frustration, fanning yourself with the book cover of some nonsense romance book you found in the gift shop.

“And the good?”

“The good,” he smiles, handing you the boarding passes, “there aren’t a lot of people on our flight anyway, and the girl thought I was cute so we got upgraded to first class for free.”

Your eyes barely glance at the passes with the upgraded seat locations on them, instead finding their way to the female attendant that had her eyes on your boyfriend. Namjoon might not mind sharing you with another man, but you can’t say the same about you sharing Namjoon with another woman.

“Y/n. Don’t give her that look.”

“I’m not giving her a look.”

“Yes you are. You’re giving her that look at my man one more time and I’ll end your happiness look.”

“No I’m no— wait. I have a look like that?” You look at Namjoon with wide eyes, a grin slowly creeping across your face. “That’s so cool. Is it easily readable? Do I have others?”

The girl is long forgotten about as you see Namjoon’s beautiful dimples appear with his smile as he leans closer to whisper in your ear.

“Yeah. You make some other ones. Like when you’re about to come all over me. When I’ve fucked you so hard that you’re about to black out. The face you make when you realize you’ve taken every inch of me is my favorite, though.”

Your face flushes in heat as you sit completely still, eyes staring straight ahead. You hear him chuckle next to you before kissing your temple, leaning back in his seat with an arm resting against the back of yours. The goosebumps on your skin and the back of your neck raise with every pass his fingers make across your shoulder and back. You know it’s for comfort, but it feels like the best kind of torture.

Shockingly, the wait time is far less than forty-five minutes before you’re one of the first groups to board, letting Namjoon hand over the boarding passes to the attendant. She gives him a big smile and flirty eyes and you have to fight yourself to not give her whatever look Namjoon was talking about. You’re about to spend ten hours on a plane, two weeks in Greece, and potentially the rest of your life with this man. She will be left behind at this terminal; she is no threat.

If anything, she’s a gift to this world. The first class seats are amazing in comparison to the main cabin seats Namjoon originally booked. You immediately claim the cubby-like seat next to the window, Namjoon sitting in the cubicle parallel to yours. The flight attendant left you both pillows, blankets, a bottle of what deemed fancy water and snacks already laid out for each of you.

“Is this what Jin experiences with being famous? Because if so, one of us needs to get on it, stat, Joon. Probably you. Make an onlyfans.” You giggle when he ignores you, his face taking a turn at going flush with heat.

You don’t tease further, getting comfortable in your little bed for the next ten hours. You poke the buttons to make the bed come out from under your feet before returning it to a sitting position and pulling the partition down between you and your boyfriend’s seats.

“Hi.” You smile at him while he sorts out both of your bags, pulling out your phone charger and handing it to you. “Thank you, Joonie.” You lean across the divider to give him a kiss, laughing when you try to pull back, only to have a giant hand cradle the back of your neck, tugging you back against his lips.

“I love you, baby.” He whispers, finally pulling away when the surge of other passengers begin to board the plane. You quickly say it back, full love-sick grin on display for him.

God, you really do love him.

Halfway through the flight, you’re being nudged awake, pulled from an amazing dream or memory - you can’t tell anymore - of you and Namjoon. Your headphones are slowly pulled off your head as you groggily turn over to find Namjoon leaning through the divider with a smirk.

“What?” You grumble, wiping your eyes.

“You were moaning my name.”

“What?” You were moaning in your dream, but surely not in real life? On a plane?

“Bathroom in five minutes.” Is all he says before sliding the divider back up. All you hear is quiet rustling until you see his top half making its way to the first class bathrooms.

He can’t be serious.

He can’t.

While you love the control Namjoon has over you, and you both share an openness to exploring new kinks and sexual experiences, this wasn’t on either of your lists.

You watch the time on your phone move slowly, one minute down.

You shouldn’t do this.

Two minutes down.

You’ll get caught.

Three minutes.

You’ll be banned from flying. And how will you get back home if so? A ship of some sort?

Four.

But he’s waiting for you. Possibly hard and you’re soaked from your dream.

Five.

You tuck your phone under your pillow, slowly crawling out of your cubicle and tiptoeing your way to the front. Luckily first class only has about eight seats and everyone seems to be sound asleep as you reach the bathroom door, giving one small secret knock. The door unlocks and you creep it open, sneaking your way in.

“Holy fuck, it’s huge.” You whisper, eyes scanning the bigger than normal airplane bathroom. There’s enough space to have a moderately small sized counter and an actual sink. And enough space for your boyfriend to stand up tall without banging his head on the ceiling.

“I feel like I should make a joke there, but we have limited time. Turn and bend. Now.” He quietly growls. It’s only then you notice his hardened length in his hand, slowly being pumped as he waits for you to follow instructions.

“Sir, yes sir.” You quip, ignoring his glare as you turn around and brace yourself against the counter. He parts your legs with his feet, a hand grabbing your waist when you momentarily lose balance.

“Remember. Not a sound, okay?” He whispers against your ear, tongue tracing down your neck. You quickly nod, skin shivering as he pulls the hem of your dress up, bringing the fabric to the front and giving it to you to hold against your stomach. Your underwear is dropped past your knees and you quickly step one foot out so you can freely move.

He wastes no time smacking your ass once, grabbing at the meaty flesh right after. You fight back the yelp, covering your mouth as you watch his intense gaze through the mirror. His eyes are glued to your ass while he massages it, watching in awe as your arousal pools at your entrance.

“Fuck, I love how ready you are for me all the time, baby.” He groans, lining your hips up with his, gliding his cock along your folds. You bite the inside of your cheek to not make a noise.

“Stop that.” The hand on your hip slides up and around to your neck, pulling you up to his chest. “Don’t bite the inside of your cheek, it’ll get infected.”

“Then don’t tease me.” You rasp, voice straining when his grip tightens around your neck.

“If you insist.” He gives one bite to your neck before letting you go and bending you forward again. He gives no warning as he realigns himself, pushing past your entrance in one go.

You let out a silent scream, covering your mouth again with your free hand as you practically hug the sink. There’s no hesitation when he starts pounding into you, both of you a mess of silent moans.

“Come back up here.” He groans, pulling you back up by your arms. “I think it’s me that has to be careful about sounds, baby. How are you always so fucking tight?”

“Feels so good.” You gasp, fighting the moan building in your throat when he kisses your neck.

He’s about to respond when there’s a small amount of turbulence, causing him to thrust even deeper into you. One of your hands flies to your mouth, followed quickly by him biting your neck.

Namjoon removes your hand from your mouth, placing his there instead, snaking his fingers past your lips and making you suck. “Get yourself off on my cock, baby. We don’t have time.” You whine, your fingers quickly finding your clit and rubbing.

Another little bout of turbulence and his cock being buried even deeper inside of you makes you fight against the urge to scream around his fingers, walls clenching as you come around his cock. He comes seconds later, deep inside, holding you close while his lips leave feather kisses across your skin.

You’re both silent after, his cock remaining tucked deep within your walls as his hands rub up and down your sides realizing you have another five hours before landing. The kiss he places on your shoulder tells you he’s having the same thought.

“Need help?” He asks in a hushed whisper. You shake your head, letting him pull out. It’s almost awkward having to move around one another to clean up, but Namjoon makes sure to give you his dimpled smile and a quick kiss every passing until he’s ready to go back, leaving you to finish up in peace.

The rest of the flight was normal. Half the time you were asleep, the other half playing phone games with Namjoon or listening to music or watching a movie while he was reading.

When you landed, Namjoon was quick to grab your carry on and usher you off the plane, almost running to baggage claim.

“Jooooooon, our bags aren’t going to magically appear the second we get to baggage claim. They have to unload the plane first.”

“I know, I know. But…I have a surprise for you.” Namjoon grins, pulling you past baggage claim to where people are waiting for their loved ones to emerge.

And that’s when you swear your heart stops for a moment.

Kim Seokjin.

In Greece.

“Jin?!” You accidentally shout. In hindsight, you’ll understand why Namjoon grabbed your bags and didn’t let you carry anything. You would’ve dropped it all or thrown it across the building as you ran up to your friend and jumped into his awaiting embrace.

“Oh my god, you’re here?! Why are you here?” you start rambling off nonsense, speaking into his neck as he hugs you, holding you in the air with his arms holding just below your ass. “How have you been? How was the movi–”

“Princess, slow down!” He laughs, finally placing you back on your feet. Your hands rest on his forearms, his on your elbows as you finally look at him.

He’s still beautiful. His hair is still the same, if not a little bit longer. You told him he was in his long fluffy era while he’s taking a break from filming last time you saw him. It was fun tugging on it when his mouth was exploring your body. His eyes are a mixture of exhaustion, happiness, and a hint of mischief. He somehow looks bigger, like he’s been working out a lot more. It’s only been two months since you’ve seen him, but it feels like a lot longer. There’s a small ache in your heart when you look up at him, and you’re not even sure when you started crying until his hands cradle your face, thumbs wiping away your tears.

“Why is my beautiful princess crying, hmm? Can’t stand my beauty?”

You scoff out a sob, lightly smacking him. The ache in your heart turns into a searing jolt at my beautiful princess.

“Shut up, you’re hideous.”

“Tell that to Vogue.”

“Will do. I’ll write a book about it.”

“Oh, can I have the first copy?”

“Of course. I’ll sign it and everything.”

“Oh my god, what an honor.”

“I’ve missed you, Seokjin.”

“I’ve missed you too, y/n.”

He pulls you into another hug, tightening his arms around you when you let out a soft squeak.

“Okay, you two, let’s get this vacation underway.” Your boyfriend’s voice drags you out of the hug you’ve missed so much, stepping away from Seokjin to let the two men hug and greet one another while you mind the bags Namjoon must’ve grabbed while you were busy.

“You’re not gonna run into my arms? Only her?” Seokjin playfully pouts at your boyfriend, who rolls his eyes in response, grabbing your hand in his.

“Nah, that’s her thing.”

“What’s your thing then?” you ask, tilting your head to the side with a smirk.

“Later.”

He doesn’t look at you, so you turn to look at Seokjin instead, who has an eyebrow raised at you. You shrug in response, giving him a look that says I’m just as confused and walk out with your boyfriend and best friend.

“So, welcome to Athens.” Seokjin starts and he and Namjoon load the bags into the back of the small car, “I’ll be your driver today and the rest of the time we’re here until we get to–”

“Don’t say it, hyung.” Namjoon quickly interjects as you get in the passenger seat.

“Don’t say what?” You turn to look at your boyfriend sitting behind the driver’s seat.

“You haven’t told her any of the plans?” Seokjin looks in the rear view mirror in astonishment.

“Nope. And it stays that way.”

“Boo.”

“Lame.”

“It’s a surprise.”

“Joon, it’s your birthday. Why am I the one being surprised?”

He doesn’t say anything more, giving Seokjin a knowing smile that frustrates you when he raises his eyebrows and grins in response.

You pout, “I hate you both.”

“Lying is bad for your health, princess.”

Your annoyance with the two men in the car is quickly forgotten about when Seokjin starts driving through Athens. Everything is gorgeous. You get a little giddy, driving through streets you refuse to admit to going through on Google maps, or seeing structures you’ve seen in video games.

“Princess, look out my window.” Seokjin’s hand lightly grabs at your thigh to get your attention, making you swivel around to look out his window where you can just make out a building you know you’ve climbed in an Assassin’s Creed game.

“Is that the Parthenon?!” The question is rhetoric, but your excitement is overflowing. “Holy shit, we’re actually in Greece! Can we go see the Olympic park? The observatory? Oh! Joon there’s some really cool art museums there, too! Can we go there?”

“Baby, breathe.” Your boyfriend laughs, Seokjin snickering beside you, his hand still on your thigh, “we’ll go tomorrow first thing. Today we just need to get to the hotel and get dinner.”

“How are we going to do all this in two weeks? Greece is huge.” You plop back in your seat, huffing in response.

It’s only now you notice Seokjin’s hand on your thigh, following the limb up to its owner who has his eyes switching from the road to the gps, slightly confused expression on his face in concentration. You turn your head to look at Namjoon, whose eyes are on the hand on your thigh, a soft smile he tries to hide when he realizes you’re looking.

It’s confusing. It should be Namjoon’s hand there, and yet it still feels right. You love Namjoon. Absolutely head over heels in love with him.

But in comes Seokjin. The man you’ve had a crush on for years. Who you finally found out actually had feelings for you too.

You adore Seokjin. You always will. You probably could’ve fallen in love with him if he had said anything back then. But then what would’ve happened with Namjoon? Your stomach drops at the thought.

You silently thank any and every god there is that neither you or Seokjin said anything and that you met your boyfriend. And that by some weird miracle, he’s willing to share you with no one other than Seokjin.

You’re so spaced out, you barely notice when Seokjin pulls into the parking lot of where you will be staying. It’s a gorgeous private villa, an elegant white building with a mixture of modern and Greek design. You hop out of the car while the two men grab the bags.

“You got a whole house?” You’re not sure if you’re asking Namjoon or Seokjin. But they both respond at the same time.

“Yes.”

“Yup. Privacy is priceless.” Seokjin chimes in. You roll your eyes with a smile, grabbing the key from him and unlocking the door.

“There’s three king sized beds and two smaller ones. I took one of the king ones just off the kitchen.” Seokjin guides you both through the house, bags left by the front door with your shoes, “there’s a sauna, a little gym, air conditioning thank god, and a bunch more I haven’t actually explored yet.”

“With how much we’ll be exploring, we don’t really need a sauna or a gym or anything like that. Y’all really love to go overboard.” You poke both of them in their sides, Namjoon quietly grabs your wrist while Seokjin dramatically cries out as if you’ve stabbed him.

“It’s nice to have the option, princess!” His dramatics will never cease to amuse you, “Aish, now I’m going to bruise and it’s all your fault.” He rubs his side as he walks away, heading towards the kitchen.

“Let him have the weird accommodations, baby. He’s a celebrity like that.” Namjoon speaks next to your ear, wrapping his arms around your middle and hugging you.

“He’s weird.”

“And yet…” his voice trails off, his nose nudging against your throat when he kisses your shoulder.

“And yet…” you sigh, repeating the statement back. You both silently stand in the middle of the living area, Namjoon leaving kisses across your shoulder, and you staring out the window. You can see just enough of the city of Athens, it feels like a dream.

“I’m gonna shower really quick, go keep Seokjin entertained, hmm?” Your boyfriend kisses your temple, humming when you agree. He gives your ass a light smack before he walks away, grabbing the bags and taking them to a room with a bathroom.

You find your way to the kitchen where Seokjin is holding two bottles of wine in either hand, eyes flicking back and forth on each label. He looks up when you enter, eyes scanning next to you before he pouts.

“Where's Joon?”

“Shower. Told me to entertain you.” You shrug, walking with a little skip over to him. He smirks as you hop up on the island counter, placing the bottles of wine on the main counter away from you.

“And how do you plan on entertaining me, princess?” His tone teases and you shrug once again, kicking your feet out a little as you rest your palms on the counter’s edge.

“I dunno. How would you like to be entertained?” You know where this is going, you haven’t seen or felt him in over two months. You miss him. So much.

And he has clearly missed you just as much when he grabs your kicking feet, moving them to spread your legs so he can stand between them. One of his hands finds the back of your head, fingers curling in your hair, as he brings your lips to his.

It’s slow and deep, but it quickly turns heated and desperate when his head turns to the side to gain better access. Your lips part and you let out a soft moan that he quickly swallows, tongues fighting against one another as he keeps his fingers tangled in your hair and the other hand gripping your hip tight.

Your hands stay cradling his face, desperate to remember how he feels when kissing you so desperately.

“God, princess, you have no idea how much I’ve missed you.”

“Me too.” You pant between kisses.

“How often I look at those photos you sent me or the videos Joon sent of you taking his cock so deep. It fucking killed me every time.”

“Jin.” You moan when his lips trail down to your clavicle.

“I don’t need to see old buildings or art or any of that, I’d rather spend the next two weeks fucking you with Namjoon.” He curses against your skin, your dress’s straps falling off your shoulder. Your breasts are so close to spilling out, if not for a third voice causing you both to jump, you pulling the straps back up to cover yourself.

“As much as I would like to have two weeks to fuck our baby stupid, I didn’t plan this trip for that.” Namjoon gives a mischievous smirk. You know he might not have planned for that. But he did plan something. You just don’t know what.

“As long as I get to taste her at some point.” Seokjin says, smiling up at you as he speaks to your boyfriend.

“You will, but for now she should shower the plane off of her and get ready for dinner.”

You nod, sighing as you tap Seokjin’s arms to let go of you. He backs away, letting you hop down and toward your boyfriend who grabs your waist as you walk by, tugging you to stand in front of him.

“Be a good girl, and you’ll get rewarded.” He whispers, kissing your forehead. You give him a playful glare, stepping to the side and walking past him, towards the bathroom he used.

You shower quickly, changing into another summer dress, this one a mix of green and blue chiffon with beautiful off-shoulder straps that fall perfectly in place just below your shoulders. Even though it’s about five in the evening, it’s still ridiculously hot. You put barely any makeup on, fixing your hair up to stop yourself from sweating down your back.

When you return to the kitchen, Namjoon is bothering Seokjin while he’s focused on pouring the three of you some wine, making sure it’s an equal amount for each of you. What takes you by surprise, however, is Namjoon’s chin resting on his friend’s shoulder, his arms wrapped around his middle like he does with you.

Oh.

Suddenly it makes sense.

“There she is!” Seokjin’s voice pipes through the kitchen. Namjoon slowly backs away from Seokjin’s back, grabbing two glasses of wine and bringing one to you.

“You look stunning, baby.”

“Thank you. It’s too hot.” You pout, taking the wine and giving a small thanks. You join him and Seokjin back in the kitchen where he’s prepared a little plate of snacks to go with the wine.

“That’s Greece. I don’t think it’s ever cold?” Namjoon shrugs, taking a sip of his wine.

“I bet it’s like LA. Maybe cold like once or twice a year.” Seokjin pops a cracker into his mouth. You share a look with Namjoon, both of you snickering.

“Oh, look at this fancy boy, saying LA like it’s so casual for him.” You tease, taking a big sip of the wine.

“Ha ha ha. Keep being jealous.” He deadpans.

“Me? Jealous? Of your exhausting life? Absolutely not, handsome. I like being in Seoul where I sleep and eat and the only traveling I do is to various museums and art galleries for work.”

“Ah, yes. Our little curator. That’s how you stole her from the world, right Namjoon?”

“I didn’t steal her.”

“More like held me hostage.”

“In bed I assume?”

“Of course. Then I think it became some sort of Stockholm Syndrome and I fell in love.”

“A true romance right there. Can I tell that story at the wedding?”

“Please. I’ll write it all down for you.”

“Thank you, princess. I’ll memorize it and give the best performance.”

“I know you will.”

“God, I forgot what it’s like when you two get together.” Namjoon groans, leaning over the counter to bury his head in his arms. You look over at Seokjin in feigned shock.

“I feel like he’s being rude and offensive.”

“So rude. So offensive.”

“Extremely.”

“I thought you loved us!” Seokjin exclaims dramatically, hand on chest and fake tears starting to build up.

“I do!” He laughs almost manically, lifting his head up and running his fingers through his hair. “It’s like you’re twins or something, it’s so much.”

You giggle, leaning across the counter to soothe your boyfriend.

“We’ll tone it down a bit, babe. I’m sorry.”

“I’m not.” Seokjin shrugs, a smug look on his face. He exclaims when you lightly hit his shoulder, “What? He said he loves me! I’m over the fucking moon right now.”

All three of you laugh, finishing up your wine and snack grazing. Seokjin orders a cab for the three of you to take to a fancy restaurant by the beach where there’s even more wine. Multiple bottles of it.

You barely remember the dinner, only remembering that the wine kept coming and resulted in both men having their hands on you the entire night. Whether it was Namjoon’s hands on your waist while standing in a crowd, or Seokjin’s hand clutching yours tight while guiding you through the masses of people.

The light touches on your arms at dinner or your thighs in the car, they both knew what they were doing to you and fully aware of the hold they had on you.

At one point, you ended up in a square that had people performing live music and people dancing to it. Seokjin dragged you and Namjoon to the makeshift dance floor, making you dance with your back against his chest and Namjoon facing you. Your hips swayed perfectly against Seokjin’s, pressing just right against his cock while Namjoon’s was pressing against your lower stomach.

Both men covered either side of your neck with kisses, really testing your ability to not moan in public. It took you mumbling something about going home for them to stop, quickly getting a ride back to the private villa.

The moment you hit the mattress, Namjoon has you splayed out on the bed, your summer dress riding dangerously high up your legs. Seokjin stands at the edge of the bed, quietly taking his shirt and pants off.

Namjoon, still fully clothed minus his shoes, crawls over your body, deeply kissing you while his hand roams your entire body. His lips trail down your neck to your shoulder where he stops for a moment. It’s when he lets out a heavy sigh that you feel a sense of panic.

“I’m so sorry, baby. I’m too drunk.”

“What?”

“I can barely stay awake, baby.” He rolls off you, laying on his side while he hugs a pillow.

“But…”

“Jinnie can take care of you. Right, hyung?” He barely opens his eyes to look at the older male, who looks just as confused as you do. “You just can’t fuck her though. Have her ride your thigh. That should do it.”

His eyes fall shut and you sit up, not sure what to do next. You look over to Seokjin, who’s looking at you for confirmation of what to do next, standing there in his underwear that’s straining his cock right now.

“Should we go to your room?” You ask tentatively, moving to get up when he nods.

“No.” Namjoon’s voice returns from its slumber. “I wanna hear it. Do it here.”

“Joonie, you’re tired.” You try to reason, but you know for a fact you’d rather do it here than without him there.

“Here or not at all, baby.” His tired groan sounds serious, so you nod again, bending over to kiss his cheek, a small dimple appearing from his smile.

“I love you, Joonie.”

“Love you too.”

You turn back to Seokjin, a hand reaching out that he quickly takes, pulling you up to meet his standing position with your knees on the bed.

“We don’t have to.” He murmurs, fingers delicately tangling with yours while his other hand finds your waist, bunching up the fabric there.

You shake your head, leaning forward to softly meet his lips with yours. Kissing Seokjin is an experience every time. His plush pout’s ability to take over the kiss, and the moans he makes when you tug on his bottom lip with your teeth to try to regain control, makes you want to crumble into a pile of goo.

“I need something, anything, Jinnie. Please?”

You rarely call Seokjin by the nickname Namjoon and Yoongi gave him years ago. You could probably count on one hand how many times you’ve said it. While it was a loving joke type of nickname from the guys, it always felt almost too intimate coming from you. So you have always stuck with Jin.

Seokjin sighs, smiling at your adorable pouty expression. He whispers okay before leaning in to kiss you again, “what princess wants, princess gets.”

Giant hands maneuver you so he can lay down. When you twist your body to straddle his lap while facing him, the big hands still your hips.

“Ride my face.”

Funny how three little words can make your entire body feel like it’s on fire.

You quickly look over to Namjoon who has his eyes closed, pillow tucked against his chest, but there’s a smile there that you know was in response to Seokjin’s order.

You huff out, moving to crawl further up Seokjin’s body, but you’re stopped again when you’re just about over his face.

“Turn around.”

“What?”

“If I can’t fuck you right now, I need your mouth to remind me what it can do.”

You nod, afraid if you speak, it’ll be mushed up nonsense, and turn around, getting on your hands and knees facing away from Seokjin. His hands grab your upper thighs and tug you closer to his face, making you gasp and almost fall forward when you lose balance on your hands.

“The dress has to go, y/n.” He gives your ass a light squeeze and you quickly rid the dress from your body. Jin lets out a low hum of approval at your matching bra and underwear; a deep crimson red and satin set.

“Every time…” he says under his breath, hooking his fingers into the side of your underwear and pulling it to your knees. You awkwardly lift one so he can move the underwear off it, not caring about the other leg.

You palm Seokjin’s cock through his briefs, smiling softly at the sound he makes.

You don’t hear his response, only gasping when he tugs your lower half down to meet those plush lips of his as he licks a long stripe through your folds, lips wrapping around your clit.

“Fuck, Jin.” You whimper, head dropping to his hip as you slowly rut against his face. His hand smacks the side of your thigh, making you still.

“Let me take care of you, princess.” He says, almost as a warning.

You nod, forgetting he can’t see you, and lift your head up. With one of your shaking hands, you free his cock from the confines of his briefs, momentarily laughing when he tries to kick the fabric off his body.

A harsh suck against your clit stops you from laughing.

You pull yourself together again, wrapping your fingers around his impressive length. You fondly remember when you saw it for the first time last Christmas. You wanted so badly to touch it, hold it in your palm to feel how heavy it was. But there was a desperate need the first time you were with him. Now, nine months later, you had all the time in the world.

Leaning down, you kiss the tip of his cock, enjoying the way it twitches at the contact followed by Seokjin’s light moan. You do it a few more times, on the tip, down the shaft, a kiss or two lands on his balls. Each kiss earns a twitch or a groan. Just as his tongue dives deep in your folds, you gather enough spit to trickle past your lips and onto his cock, using your hand to spread it around before slowly lowering your mouth down his now leaking member.

You let his cock prod the back of your throat for a moment, thanking whatever gods that you barely have a gag reflex, and hum around him. Your nails dig into his thighs as he groans against your center, a hand smacking your ass.

“Princess, what the fuck are you doing to me.”

His hips buck up, his cock somehow finding its way deeper down your throat. You cough, fighting the urge to pull off as his hips continue to buck up, your hands finding the bedding to brace yourself as he fucks your throat. You whine when two fingers ease past your folds, curling inside of you to press against your walls.

It’s not long after that, that you’re crying, coming around his fingers and tongue and whining around his cock. Seconds later, he’s coming as well, bitter liquid shooting down your throat.

You’re so lost in focusing on swallowing and not choking that you don’t hear the small breath of a laugh coming from your boyfriend.

Seokjin, however, heard perfectly.

“Ya, your girl’s a menace.”

You lift your throat off his cock, taking slow but short breaths as you look over at your boyfriend whose eyes travel from your lips down to his best friend’s soaked cock, some cum still coated around him.

You glance down at the wet spot at his crotch.

“Are you still too tired?” Your voice rasps. He nods, but your eyes stay locked on his crotch.

Seokjin pats your ass, signaling for you to crawl off just enough that he can get off the bed.

“I’m gonna shower and head to bed. Tomorrow we will explore Athens.” He gives you a kiss on the cheek before turning to the door and heading to his room. You smile, turning back to your boyfriend who has his eyes barely opened, watching you. Your eyes go back to the wet patch.

“Let me take care of you, Joonie.”

“Baby…”

“Please?”

“I’m fine, baby. Come to bed.” Sighing, you lay down next to him, your leg finding its way between his as you lean in just enough, connecting your lips to his. He moans deeply, tasting Seokjin on your tongue. Your suspicions are confirmed as you feel the bulge in his pants move underneath you.

“You sure you don’t want me to take care of that?” You tease against his lips. Your hand sneaks between you both, but is quickly grabbed by Namjoon’s.

“Yes, baby. I’m sure.” He smiles, eyes shut as he brings your hand up to his lips, kissing your fingers briefly. “Sleep.”

You murmur defeat, getting off the bed to brush your teeth and change into a large shirt to sleep in. When you come back to bed, Namjoon is fast asleep on his back, his arm splayed out waiting for you. You pout, crawling into bed and curling up against his side. The moment your head rests on his shoulder, his arm moves on instinct to wrap around your back, thumb moving back and forth against your shoulder.

It’s not until you’re at the edge of falling asleep that you realize this is the first time Namjoon let you be with Seokjin without claiming you after or being the one to make you come last.

Athens is beautiful. You spent the first three days simply wandering around the ancient city, going from ruin to ruin and museum to museum.

This is how you met Namjoon. You were part of the opening of a new museum in Seoul and Yoongi dragged Namjoon as his plus one. You both immediately hit it off and have been in love ever since.

Yoongi demanded to be one to marry you both, getting ordained on your one year anniversary just in case.

Museums and art galleries quickly became your thing with Namjoon. While it was a part of your job to constantly be in museums and galleries, it’s your dream job for a reason. And what could be better than finding someone who loves your job as much as you do?

Seokjin, however, never showed any particular interest in museums or art in general. Sure, he’d go and take pictures either of or in front of the art, post it to socials, and come up with some horrible dad joke. But he couldn’t stand the idea of spending hours walking around looking at things from years and years ago.

But you have to give him brownie points, he persevered the few days in Athens, knowing there would be wine and delicious food at the end of it all. And potentially a blow job from you.

Namjoon still refused you both from actual sex, making you and Seokjin pout or whine. Seokjin almost begged one night, much to Namjoon’s delight, but he still said no.

After Athens, the three of you packed your bags and boarded a boat to head to the next stop in Greece. Seokjin was beyond excited, Namjoon had a smug smile the entire way over, and you were completely clueless.

That is, until you stepped off the boat onto a wooden deck and it clicked immediately.

“Is this…?”

“Where they filmed Mamma Mia? Yes. Yes it is.” Namjoon replies, helping Seokjin off the boat after you.

“Ahhh, it’s even prettier in person!” Seokjin's voice squeaks, running to stand next to you, hand grabbing yours.

You grin, trying to avoid screaming like you want to. Mamma Mia has and always will be one of your favorite films. It’s your comfort movie and you and Seokjin would watch it consistently when either of you had a shitty day. You’d always end up standing on the couch or coffee table dramatically singing along with the ABBA songs or quoting the movie and acting them out while it played in the background.

Still holding Seokjin’s hand, you turn to your boyfriend, who’s making sure all the luggage is accounted for.

“Oh, right. Sorry, Joonie.” You drag Seokjin back to Namjoon, both of you grabbing as much luggage as you can and following the other tourists off the dock.

Again, Seokjin arranged for a private villa. This one, however is smaller, only has one bed as well as a couch, and no air conditioning.

The first two days aren't a problem. The weather is cool, the clouds covering the sun a majority of the day, and an amazing ocean breeze to make you shiver every now and again. The three of you travel around the island, you and Seokjin giggling every time you find a spot from the movie and having Namjoon take a photo of the both of you mid-reenactment.

During the third and last day on Skopelos, however, there was a heat wave. And it is miserable to put it nicely.

So miserable, none of you want to move. Seokjin is groaning that Greece isn't going anywhere. And you are complaining that days like this are why Google Street View exists. Namjoon is huffy at you both, deciding to go for a run while you two lie around, complaining about the heat.

It is on his run, however, when a perfect idea pops into his head as he sees some locals with frozen treats.

When he comes in, he finds you lying on the tile floor, your flowy summer dress draped around your body and the floor, and Seokjin on the couch, one leg dangling off the edge and the other off the back of the couch. You both look ridiculous as Namjoon heads to the kitchen.

“Jooooooonie, can you make the fan do more?”

It’s a silly question to ask, you know the answer. But you have hope.

“Nope, baby. Sorry.” He answers, head in the freezer. “I have a better idea, though. Hyung, come here.”

He groans, throwing himself off the couch dramatically and playfully stomping his way to Namjoon in the kitchen. He’s about to speak when the two exchange glances. Seokjin glances down at the bowl in his hand and grins, nodding quickly as if to agree to Namjoon’s silent question.

“Princess.”

“Baby.”

They speak at the same time, causing you to tilt your head backwards, looking at the upside down men quizzically.

“Hmm?”

How’s the tile down there?” Your boyfriend asks, hands behind his back.

“It’s cooler than the bed.” You answer slowly as Seokjin sits behind you, Namjoon moving to sit in front of you.

“Wanna play a game?”

“You wouldn’t let me bring my switch, so we can’t unless there’s one here…”

“No. Princess. A game.”

It takes a second to process, but when it finally clicks, Namjoon’s already starting to spread your legs, the dress’s fabric falling to your hips.

“Joonie, it’s too hot…”

“Right. It is way too hot. Which is why I want to play a game.”

You question what he means, allowing Seokjin to lift your head and shoulders enough to tuck himself underneath you, letting your upper torso and your head to rest against chest

“I just wanna help you cool down, baby.” He smirks, bringing the bowl into view for you to see what he means. It’s a small but deep bowl full of ice cubes and pieces alike.

Fuck.

You’re not sure if you say it in your mind or out loud. Possibly out loud since both men grin wide, snickering as Namjoon spreads your legs further. You relax into Seokjin’s chest, his hands finding the bottom of your dress and shimmying it up your torso. You lift your ass off the ground ever so slightly so he can pull the dress further up until he fully removes it, tossing it to the side.

“Gonna be a good girl for us, princess?” Seokjin smiles, leaning down to kiss your forehead.

“What are the rules?” You ask softly, your hands finding Seokjin’s forearms resting on your shoulders.

“The rules, baby, are simple.” Namjoon grins, picking up one of the ice cubes, holding it in his fist to help it melt down a bit.

“Move, and we stop. Come before we say so, and we stop.”

“I don’t like those rules.” You pout, Namjoon rolls his eyes, ignoring you while Seokjin snickers.

“There’s our princess being a brat.”

“Those are the rules, baby. Follow them and you get rewarded.”

“What’s the reward?”

Namjoon looks up to Seokjin, eyebrows raised at Seokjin’s questioning gaze.

“It’s a surprise.” He finally answers, putting the ice cube back in the bowl and trailing his frozen cold hand up your body. You shiver, fighting the urge to pull away from the freezing hand.

“I like to know what I’m winning.” You grumble through chattering teeth, your boyfriend's hand softly gliding up your waist to behind your back.

“I know you do, baby. And I promise you, you’ll feel so fulfilled after.” He whispers, undoing the clasp on your bra.

“Joon.” You whine, fingers digging into Seokjin’s arms after your bra gets removed.

“Ready, baby?”

You nod, hating his teasing tone.

He grabs the ice cube again, it already melting in his palm as he hovers his hand above your chest. All three of you wait as the little drop of freezing water develops under his grip, slowly getting ready to drip down.

You feel yourself breathing harder, chest rising faster as you watch the droplet. When it finally drops, it feels like a spike of ice landing

But before the drop can land on your skin, Namjoon’s pulling it away again.

“New rule. Close your eyes, baby.”

You whine again, body wiggling in anticipation.

“Eyes, princess. Let us make you feel good.” Seokjin whispers against your temple. You nod, shutting your eyes tight and leaning further back into Seokjin’s embrace.

Not even seconds later, you feel a drop of water drip on your chest between your breasts.

“Fuck!” You yelp, body lifting off the ground from the initial shock.

“Already breaking the rules, baby. Stay still or we stop.” Namjoon’s deep voice teases as another few drops land across your chest.

“Okay. Okay okay okay.” You nod, keeping your eyes shut as you grip onto Seokjin’s arms even more to stay still.

You have no idea where the ice is going to be next, your body tensing in preparation for another jolt of cold against your skin. It’s almost torture how long between drops Namjoon lets it be before you feel a full cube against the bottom curve of your breast.

You let out a high pitched whine, forcing yourself to stay still as he glides the ice all around your breasts, to across your clavicle, down the sides of your waist and across your middle section. Your breathing returns to rapid breaths, shivering with goosebumps as well as just pure arousal.

You can’t tell what’s turning you on more; the frozen water being softly dragged across your sensitive skin, or the melted water that remains in its path, dripping down your sides and making its way to your back.

Opposite of the freezing ice, however, is how hot Seokjin’s skin feels behind you. It almost feels like the ice dripping behind you is evaporating the moment it makes contact with his skin.

It’s too hot.

But you want more.

Need more.

The last piece of ice melts directly over your belly button, your breath stuttering when Namjoon’s hand goes flat across your stomach, gliding up to between your breasts and around your throat.

“Good girl. Ready for more?”

You whimper out a yes, your legs subconsciously spreading further for him, like your body begging where to go next.

“Remember. No movements, princess.” Seokjin teases, having noticed your legs.

You huff out in complaint, but it quickly turns into a shaking gasp when there’s an ice cube tracing up your inner thigh. Namjoon skips over where you want it most, dragging the cube to your other thigh and back up to your lower stomach, dancing the cube along the waistline of your underwear.

“Joonie, please.”

“Please what?”

“I hate the teasing.” You pout petulantly, head twisting to the side to bury your face in Seokjin’s arm. You’re desperately trying to ignore the hardening bulge pressing up against your back.

“Mmmm, I’d say otherwise, baby. You’re soaking through. I mean, hyung just look at how soak—”

A string of curse words leave your lips, unable to hear anything the men are teasing about, when Namjoon presses a cube directly over the wet patch of your underwear, fitting perfectly against your folds and your clit.

“Ya! No biting!” Seokjin’s voice yells, prying your mouth away from his bicep.

Namjoon pulls the ice away, giving your clothed center a light smack. Your hips jerk from the sensation, fighting back the urge to open your eyes.

“‘M sorry, Jin.” You whimper, kissing where you think you bit.

“I don’t know if I should forgive you, princess. That was a very bad thing to do.”

“No no, I’ll be good. Please.”

There’s silence. With the inability to see them, you can’t tell if they’re silently discussing whether to punish or reward you.

“I feel like she’s been through enough, Joonie. Maybe we should just stop here.”

“She can take more.”

“I can. I can do it. Please.”

“What’s the word, baby?”

“Wendigo.” You let out a breathless laugh, the two men snickering at the memory.

Namjoon taps your hip, telling you to lift so he can remove your underwear, tossing it aside with your dress. You feel movement down between your legs before you feel a sudden warm breath, making your toes curl.

“Remember, princess. No movement.”

You nod vigorously, clutching onto Seokjin again when Namjoon’s warm tongue licks a full stroke up your folds, the tip teasingly dancing against your clit.

He’s vicious with the way he teases you, breathing against your soaked center with his hot breath before bringing the melting cube to your clit when he can feel you’re close. Your constant moans and cries only encourage him further as he pops the cube into his mouth, settling it below his tongue, and dancing it at your entrance. The switch between warm tongue and ice cube is infuriating to say the least.

“You’re being such a good girl, princess. I think Joonie might reward you soon.” Seokjin’s deep voice against your ear sends a different kind of shiver down your spine.

Namjoon’s mouth pulls away from your throbbing center, giving your inner thigh a light kiss. You take a deep breath, eyes still shut, as you wait for whatever pleasurable torture was next.

But nothing happens.

Nothing happens for what feels like eternity but, in reality, it’s only a minute or two before you feel your boyfriend’s body move away from you. The sounds of shuffling as well as Seokjin letting you go slack against his body.

“Do you trust me, baby?” Namjoon’s voice comes from where you think the kitchen is located. You nod, muttering out of course while leaning further into Seokjin’s chest.

“Let’s move her to the couch, hyung. Baby, keep your eyes shut.” Seokjin does as he’s told, lifting you up carefully and bringing you to stand in front of the couch. It sounds like more ice is being put into the ceramic bowl. Your body shakes at the thought.

“Sit, hyung.” When you hear movement to the left of you, you can only assume Seokjin’s following orders.

“Jagi…” Namjoon’s voice is suddenly right in front of you, a big cold hand softly caressing your waist. The temperature makes you jump, but you settle into it immediately.

“I think hyung was right, you deserve a reward. I’m gonna sit you down on hyung’s cock, and you’re gonna be good and take it all, right?”

You nod again, pouting slightly when he reminds you to keep your eyes closed as he leads you back. Your hands reach behind you, finding Seokjin’s immediately as he and Namjoon help you onto the couch. They sit you down on Seokjin’s lap, your legs spread and hooked on either side of his thighs. Seokjin lets go of one of your hands to wrap around his cock, giving himself a few pumps before his tip meets your entrance.

“Ready, princess?”

“Please.” You beg, head falling back when he presses the tip past your folds, slowly easing himself inside of you.

“Good job, baby. Keep taking his cock, take every inch.” Namjoon’s praises sound like they’re coming from below you, but you’re not sure, unable to focus as you try to relax around Seokjin’s massive length.

Once you give the okay to Seokjin, he sinks down on the couch a bit more, bringing you back to plant your feet on the cushion so his hips are free to move at the pace he knows drives you crazy.

You cry out, it’s been months since you’ve had him inside you and it feels so fucking good, you could write poems and songs about how good his cock feels filling and stretching you out with every thrust.

“Fuck, please. Please let me come. Feels too good. Plea— oh, fuck.” Your body jolts at the sudden feeling of ice against the junction where your pelvis meets your thigh. Seokjin’s hands quickly steady you, massive hands holding your waist still while he continues to fuck you.

The moans you make are pornographic as the ice cube slides around your skin, gliding and dancing around your pulsing clit that when he finally brings it there, you let out a sharp gasp. You bite your bottom lip, trying to fight the curses you want to scream at the top of your lungs.

Namjoon quickly removes the cube from against your sensitive bundle of nerves, questioning Seokjin for permission to something you can’t hear because you’re too focused on Seokjin’s cock hitting exactly where it needs to.

When you hear Seokjin whine, saying yes, he slows down his thrusts, hands bringing your waist down to sit on his lap with his cock fully inside of your clenching walls.

You resist asking them what they’re doing, knowing it’s pointless. You lean your head against Seokjin’s shoulder, facing his neck as your lips find skin.

You’re about to press soft kisses against the skin when a sharp bolt of ice courses through your body.

Your eyes snap open, looking down at where you and Seokjin are connected and you nearly come just from the sight of Namjoon’s tongue shoving a small mostly melted ice cube past your entrance and against the bulging vein around Seokjin’s cock.

Your boyfriend’s tongue is on your best friend’s dick.

Okay, maybe it’s not on his dick, but it’s close enough to just graze over that counts.

The fingers holding onto your waist dig deep into your skin as Seokjin groans at the feeling of the ice cube being kept inside of you by his dick.

You whine, head leaning back again and shutting your eyes once more as you feel the cube, melting fast, make its way inside of you, being eased deeper by the head of Seokjin’s cock.

“How’s it feel, baby?” Your boyfriend’s voice rumbles against your skin as he sits up on his knees, large hands on your thighs, watching the way you take Seokjin’s cock.

“So fucking good.” You whimper.

“Fucking heaven.” Seokjin whines behind you, hips beginning to lose their rhythm, teeth grazing your neck. “I won’t last long, fuck it’s so impossible to last long with you, y/n.”

You let out a soft laugh, a moan mixing through it, as you reach behind you, tugging Seokjin’s hair to pull his face back to yours, trapping him in a kiss.

“Come for me, Jin. Fill me up. Please.” You repeat your request against his lips until you’re wincing from his teeth catching your bottom lip and one last thrust. The sensation of his cum filling you up makes you both moan.

Namjoon’s hands help you lift yourself just enough that Seokjin’s cock slips out, but he quickly stands, leaning over you both on the couch, and slides himself past your entrance, stuffing his hyung’s cum back inside.

“Joon!” You cry out, hands flying away from Seokjin and grasping Namjoon’s forearms.

“Take his cock, princess. Gotta keep all my cum in there.” Seokjin’s strained voice comes from behind you. One hand barely helps to hold you up as the other sneaks away and you hear that damn ceramic bowl with ice being moved around.

“Don’t you dare.” You mumble, immediately feeling Seokjin laugh under you.

“I thought you could take it, y/n?” Seokjin teases, grasping an ice cube and tracing it along your waist. You gasp, trying to move your body away from the sensation, but Namjoon tugs you back on top of the older man as he starts thrusting.

Seokjin’s fingers trail the cube up your waist, alongside your ribs, just below your breasts, before finally bringing it to one of your nipples. Your back attempts to arch, but Seokjin’s other hand forces you back down from your stomach until you’re fully lying on him, no longer hovering.

It’s a chaotic mix of teasing, pleasure, and pain as Namjoon’s thumb starts circling your clit as he pounds into you at the same time as Seokjin’s ice trails along your skin. You barely give a warning before you’re crying out over your orgasm, body shaking and trying to grab onto anything you can.

It’s only seconds later you feel Namjoon’s cock twitch inside of you, making you feel more full than before.

You wake up to the sounds of Seokjin snoring behind you. Eyes opening wide in panic when he lets out a rather loud one that almost sounds like he’s choking. You try to turn over to check on him, but you’re being held down by one of his arms.

When your eyes open, you’re met with Namjoon’s closed ones, silently sleeping. He’s hugging his pillow tight, somehow unaware of the loud snores behind you.

Or so you think.

You try moving again, freezing instantly when Namjoon’s eyes open, a soft smile forming.

“Hey, beautiful.” He whispers softly, his voice gravelly from the slumber.

“Hi?”

“How you feeling?” His question confuses you.

You feel fine. But you last remember Namjoon coming inside of you and that’s it.

“Good? I don’t…remember what happened.” You try shuffling close to your boyfriend, but Seokjin’s hold on you is tight. Namjoon lets out a soft giggle, scooting closer to you instead.

“You kinda passed out…?” His eyebrows raise a little, smile starting to form into a small laugh, “not like anything bad. But, after I came, you were a little loopy? It was amusing. We took care of you though. Cleaned you up and everything.”

“Hmm. I genuinely don’t remember, but thank you, baby.”

“Where’s my thank you.” The voice behind you grumbles against your skin. You and Namjoon laugh as you twist your face into the pillow, muffling yourself.

“Thank you, Jinnie” your voice drowns in the pillow.

“Namjoon should thank me too. I was super helpful.”

You laugh into the pillow.

“I take thank yous in kisses, please and thank you.” He snickers. You shake your head, twisting your body to face him now.

“Shut up, hyung.” Namjoon sighs, his hand rubbing up against your waist.

Seokjin’s so pretty when he wakes up. His face is a little extra puffy, but it’s so cute. You love it.

“I’ll get my kiss from him one day.” He pouts.

“One day. I believe in it.” You grin, leaning in to give him an obnoxious kiss, pulling away with a loud mwah sound.

The three of you laze around the rest of the day, only going out to get dinner before returning to sleep.

The next day, the three of you make the trip to the final destination: Mykonos.

It’s an island you had discussed early on in the relationship. Your typical Greece imagery of gorgeous waters, all white buildings and blue trim, beautiful beaches all around. Everything about it was perfect in the images you looked at. But it’s nothing compared to seeing it in person.

You guys have the last four days here to just relax and enjoy the beaches.

The day before Namjoon’s birthday, the three of you all separate to do different things. You stay inside, having some work stuff come up that you can't avoid. Seokjin decides to lounge on the deck of the villa you are staying in. It has stairs leading down straight onto the beach. There is a running path just off to the side and Namjoon decides to go see how much of the island he can cover (not much, but he does try).

When you finally finish up with work (you’re going to fight with Taehyung when you get back for directing the issue he could’ve easily fixed to you, knowing full well you are on vacation), you change into a bathing suit, throwing an oversized shirt (whether it’s Namjoon’s or Seokjin’s, you’ll never know) on over it and walk out onto the deck.

You’ll never get over Seokjin without a shirt.

He’s leaning over the balcony, in only shorts as his broad shoulders are on full display. The dimples in his back as well as the way his shoulder blades move when he shifts in place is enough to send shivers down your spine.

You lean against the railing while standing next to him, staying quiet while he’s on the phone, having some sort of back and forth with who you assume is his manager. You’re quickly distracted by the beautiful blue waves rolling in to notice Seokjin repositioning to stand behind you, resting his chin on your head while he continues his phone call.

“Yeah. I should be back in a few days and then I was hoping to stay in Seoul a few days before New York…but I guess that’s not happening?”

You pout when he sighs, saying he understands and hanging up. The phone is tucked away in his back pocket while his arms snake around your waist.

“Already have to go back to work?”

He nods, moving down to rest his chin on your shoulder.

“Unfortunately. They actually wanted me to come back tonight but I told him to fuck off.”

“No you didn’t.”

“No, I didn’t. But I did politely say no and made a compromise to come back asap.”

“You’re too nice to them.” You pout, watching a couple playing in the ocean waves, “They overwork you. I miss you. Namjoon misses you.”

“I miss you too, princess. I miss you and Joon every time I’m away.”

“Wanna stay here forever.” It’s a soft mumble, but you know he hears it when he hums in agreement, turning his head to kiss your cheek. You turn your face to him, letting your lips meet in a slow, deep, kiss.

Again, there’s nothing quite like kissing Seokjin. Namjoon is the love of your life and always will be, but there’s just something about Seokjin’s lips that you crave constantly. Something about the way he holds you both delicately and possessively. Or the way he looks at you after a kiss, like he’s just as lost in it as you are. Like he’s trying to figure out the answer to the question you’ve been asking since that weekend in the Swiss mountains.

He uses his tongue to tease your lips apart, making you gasp through a moan as he turns you around to face him, hands gripping your waist.

“Jinnie” you whine, your arms wrapping around his shoulders. His lips trail down your jaw to that special spot between your neck and shoulder.

“I’m sorry, y/n. We shouldn’t unless Namjoon’s around. But,” he leaves a small love bite on your shoulder, “you just have this effect on me. I can’t help it.”

You nod, moaning when you tug on his hair, making him suck harder on your skin. You’re going to be covered in bruises and hickies when you get home. You don’t care.

“What’d I miss?” Namjoon’s voice breaks you two apart, but only barely. Seokjin’s lips place soft kisses on your cheek and forehead while you look at the man you love.

“Jin told his manager to fuck off and wait until his vacation is over.”

“No he didn’t.”

“See?” You look at Seokjin, a playful smile and raised eyebrow, “you’re too nice.”

“I have to be. Or it ruins my reputation and makes me look like I’m difficult to work with.”

“But you are difficult to work with.”

“I take it back. I don’t miss you. I only miss Namjoon.” He jokingly shoves you away, stepping to move behind Namjoon, getting on his tiptoes to put his chin on the younger’s shoulder. “You’re too tall.” He grumbles, wrapping his arms around Namjoon’s middle.

Namjoon smirks, hands holding onto Seokjin’s forearms to keep him there.

“Well, I still think you’re too nice. You guys have fun. I’m going to get in the water.” You laugh, heading down the steps to the beach. You hear snickers, turning back briefly to see Namjoon turning in Seokjin’s arms to face him.

You look back towards the beach, allowing them privacy even though that word barely exists with you three.

The water is perfect. It’s not cold like the Pacific Ocean, not weirdly warm like the Atlantic. It’s a perfect balance.

You let your feet sink into the sand, the gentle waves slowly bringing you closer to the ocean as the sand keeps you still.

You love it here.

You love your job, love your life, love your friends, family, and your boyfriend.

But here? With not only your boyfriend but the man you crushed on for years that you now have the privilege to be with along with your boyfriend? For two whole weeks?

That’s heaven.

It’s felt right these two weeks with them. Any time it’s been just you and Namjoon, it’s been perfect as usual, but it always feels like something is missing.

Or rather someone.

You’re not sure how long you’re out here, staring at the horizon. The sand is halfway up your calves and the waves are hitting your upper thighs by the time two large arms wrap around your middle, body draping over your back as lips find refuge on your neck.

You smile, sighing as you relax in his hold, tilting your head to the opposite side so he has better access.

“Where’s my Jagi right now?” Namjoon’s voice barely breaks above the waves, only enough because it’s right by your ear.

“Thinking.”

“About?” His nose nudges under your ear.

“Us.” You pause when you feel him tense, “us and Jin.”

“What about us and Jin?” His body relaxes, but barely. You use his hold on you as support as you pull your feet from the sand, both of you stepping a little further from the ocean when you turn to face him.

“What is this to you, Joon?” Your arms snake around his neck, fingers dancing through his hair there. “Or rather, what is Jin? I know last year he was my present or whatever, but…that was nine months ago. And after all the texts with photos and videos and the times we’ve been with him…I don’t know. I need some sort of understanding before this gets too much.”

Namjoon’s eyes stay steady on you the entire time, the hands sitting on your waist, holding you gently, yet firm enough to keep you still. His thumbs rubbing circles through the shirt.

“Too much, how?” Is all he asks.

“I…I don’t know. Too much like he’s part of this? Too much like my crush from before you comes back and causes issues?”

“How would that cause issues, Jagi?”

“I don’t want to choose…”

“Baby,” Namjoon smirks, leaning in to kiss your forehead, “there is nothing to choose. I’m yours forever and if you want him, too…as long as he wants you back…I’m pretty sure I’ve done nothing but show you I’m very okay with sharing you.”

“That’s nice and all and I love you for that,” you pull away from him just slightly, forcing him to look at you again, “but what about you? What is this to you? It can’t just be me with two boyfriends. I mean, it can. But…what about you and Jin?”

And that’s where his confidence falters, for just a moment, you see it in his eyes and the way his lips twitch.

He comes up with nothing when his mouth opens to speak, face contorting almost into confusion.

“Joon? You okay?”

“Yeah…I just…” you let him pause, finding the right words as his eyes flit behind you to the crashing waves. It’s hard to bite back the smile when you try to soothe whatever worries he seems to have by massaging his nape. His eyes close momentarily before opening again, landing on your own.

“I don’t know yet. But…I think there’s something…between him and I, I mean.”

“Yeah?”

“Yeah,” he nods slowly, eyes back on the ocean, “I just don’t know what exactly it is. If it’s just because of you or if it’s something else entirely? It’s confusing.”

“It’s okay, Joon. You don’t need to figure anything out right this second, but we should all sit down and figure this out at some point…maybe not tomorrow, though.”

“Why not tomorrow?” His head tilts to the side, looking back at you.

“Your birthday? The whole reason we went on this trip?”

It takes two seconds of silence before he starts fully laughing, having to back away from you to bend over.

“I’ll be one hundred percent honest, I totally forgot.”

…

“You can’t be serious.”

“I was just treating it like a vacation with my best friend and my girlfriend.”

“Oh my god, Kim Namjoon. You’re an actual goober!” You playfully smack his shoulder, laughing with him. He takes the perfect opportunity to launch himself at you, bending slightly to pick you up by your thighs. You both laugh as your legs wrap around his waist, arms around his shoulders again.

It’s a playful series of events, he threatens to lean forward, dumping you into the waves, you returning the threat with your own of no skin contact for a month, and just all around cuteness between you both that you’d be lying if you said wasn’t one of your favorite things about him. He’s so serious at work, so serious in most social situations. Except for with you, where he can be himself; laughing, dancing badly, making really terrible dad jokes, and just being your Namjoon.

That night, the three of you are all dressed up for dinner reservations Seokjin made at the five star restaurant at the resort you’re staying at.

Both men go for formal casual; slacks, a tucked in button up shirt, leaving the first three buttons undone for an added we’re on vacation and gorgeous models look that Seokjin will not shut up about.

You dress up in a little black mini dress. It isn't too short to be informal, but just short enough that Namjoon’s hands stay on your thigh during dinner and Seokjin playfully grabs at your ass when you are waiting to be seated.

Seokjin has the staff come sing happy birthday to Namjoon, the man’s face turning the deepest shades of embarrassment until the staff leave.

Two bottles of expensive wine and a delicious meal later, the three of you are walking lazily down the pathway back to the villa. Seokjin directly behind you, his hands wandering your body as he kept you against his chest.

Mumbles of your nickname are pressed against your neck as he kisses and licks the skin there, not caring about where you are walking.

With your head tilted to give him more access, your hazy eyes find your boyfriend a few feet away, holding onto the jacket you thought you might need, as well as your purse and heels you ditched at one point. He’s smiling his I’m tipsy grin, dimples peeking through as he watches his best friend cling to you.

When you step past the front door of the villa, your body is quickly turned, back pressed up against the wall as Seokjin lifts your legs around his waist to bruise your neck some more.

Your moans are cut off by your boyfriend’s words.

“Hyung.” Seokjin quickly removes his lips from your skin. Head turning to look at his friend. “Bed.” Is all he says, tossing your stuff on the couch on the way to the bedroom. Seokjin smirks, tightening his hold on you as he pulls off the wall and heading to the bedroom with you in his arms.

Namjoon is already standing by the foot of the bed, shirt pulled out of the waistband of the slacks that are unbuttoned, but still sitting on his hips. There’s a very prominent bulge peeking through the pants and it’s amazing how nervous it still makes you after all these years.

There’s a silent exchange between the two men as Seokjin lays you down on the bed, letting you scoot back towards the headboard as he crawls over you. His mouth is on your neck again, wet lips marking anywhere he can.

A free hand feels its way down your body, long fingers heading straight to your clothed center. He pushes a finger against your entrance, the fabric gathering up the arousal.

You both let out a curse, your hips rolling up to meet his hand, trying so hard to get his finger to fully enter you. But it doesn’t, he teases you repeatedly, gathering more slick against your underwear until your boyfriend’s voice off to the side tells him to stop.

It’s almost like deja vu the way Seokjin pulls your underwear off, and hands it directly to Namjoon, who’s sitting in a chair next to the bed, cock already in his hand.

Your eyes stay on the way the underwear slides against his erection, the amount of arousal on the fabric mixing with his own.

But his eyes? His eyes are on Seokjin. The way his fingers dig into your flesh as they roam your body.

No. Not again.

“Jin, off.” You whisper it, having to repeat it a little louder when he ignores you in favor of kissing your jaw.

“You okay?” His whisper is panicked, hands leaving your skin to hold himself above you by placing them on either side of you on the bed.

“Yeah,” you nod quickly, “just…the birthday boy.” Your eyes find Seokjin’s and you don’t know when it happened, but somehow you two developed a similar mind. He nods, kissing your nose and rolling off you to sit at the head of the bed, lightly palming himself.

You grin, crawling off the bed, making sure Seokjin has a perfect view of your soaked center sans underwear.

“Joonie, join us.” You stand in front of him at his chair, light fingers taking the underwear away from his cock.

“I’m okay here, baby. Get back to hyung.”

You shake your head, and he doesn’t hesitate to help you when you straddle his lap, his cock teasing your clit as you settle down.

“Come.”

“That’s my line.”

You roll your eyes at his beautiful dimples, leaning down to kiss each one.

“It’s your birthday, Joonie. Let us take care of you.”

“It’s not my birthday yet.”

“As of seven minutes ago, it is officially your birthday, Kim Namjoon.” Seokjin’s voice comes from the bed, phone in hand with a shit eating grin on his face. You grin as well, looking back at your boyfriend.

“See? It’s your day, baby.” You coo, brushing his hair back. “What would you like for your birthday?”

“What are you doing?” He questions, eyes trying to decipher your smile.

“I just want my Joonie to be happy and properly taken care of.”

“Yeah?”

“Yeah. Now, be good and get on the bed.”

“Oh, you’re telling me what to do now?”

You hum, nodding as you stand up between his legs, holding your hands out for him, palms up. He gives you a look before looking over at Seokjin and smiles nervously, taking your hands and standing with you.

You back up to the bed, pulling him with you with a smile. You only let go to tug the slacks and briefs off the rest of the way.

“Sit next to Jin.” You quietly command, letting him move past you to get on the bed, sitting next to Seokjin, who at some point pulled all his clothes off except his underwear.

Still in your dress, you crawl back onto the bed, a smirk forming when it appears Namjoon knows exactly what you’re doing and spreads his legs just slightly. Just enough to let you get comfortable on your stomach and your arms resting on his thighs.

“Happy birthday, Joonie.” You grin, taking his cock in your hand and giving it a single pump, standing it up in front of you. Your lips sneak small kisses up and down his length, longer ones on his tip, before slowly easing his entire length down your throat. Holding him there in your mouth, a free hand cradles his balls in your palm, giving them a gentle massage that makes him groan, hands clutching your hair.

“God, she’s too good at that.” Seokjin murmurs, your lips wrapped around Namjoon’s tip, tongue teasing at the slit that’s already oozing with precum.

“I bet you’d do just— ah, fuck,” Namjoon’s head falls back, hitting the headboard as you take him down in one go without warning. “You’d do just fine, hyung.”

“Oh, I know I would. I’d do more than fine.” Seokjin’s quick to quip and you can’t help but smile internally, lifting your mouth off and away from your boyfriend’s cock.

“Prove it.”

Both men stare at you, one turning a deep shade, the other almost laughing if not for the shock of the call out.

“That’s not…” Seokjin stutters, still trying not to smile.

“Not what? Joonie loves his cock sucked. You have amazing lips and your mouth is big enough, I’m sure you could take him all.”

“Baby.” Namjoon warns but you ignore the tone, looking at him with pleading eyes.

“Jin needs to prove himself, Joon. Is it okay if he helps me with your cock?”

Namjoon’s eyes stay locked on yours. You can’t tell if he’s angry or nervous, but it’s enough to make you feel like submitting to whatever he wants, but also rebel against everything and anything he says.

Not to mention, the shooting jolt of arousal you get from just that gaze is enough.

It’s Seokjin’s voice that breaks through the staring contest.

“I’ll be good, Joon. I promise.”

Namjoon’s eyes tear away from yours to Seokjin’s so fast, you think his neck would’ve snapped.

You keep watching your boyfriend for any sort of negative reaction.

But his eyes dance from eye to eye to lips, back to his eyes and next thing you know, Namjoon is nodding, sliding further down the bed to give you both access.

You share a look with Seokjin, both ending in a grin as you take place on the bed between Namjoon’s legs. Your boyfriend is muttering something quietly to himself, his arm thrown over his face.

You give Seokjin’s cheek a kiss, a hand pressing soothing circles into Namjoon’s thigh. Seokjin reaches out for Namjoon’s cock, almost mimicking your actions from moments ago. You watch in awe as his lips prove to be perfect for this activity, his mouth wide enough to take Namjoon down without a problem.

“Fuck, so fucking good.” Namjoon mutters, biting his forearm. You can’t fight the smirk when you and Seokjin dive in at the same time, licking and kissing along his shaft and tip, both taking turns with his balls.

Namjoon is going insane, fighting the urges to either force both of you closer to his cock until he’s coming across both of your faces, or to fill Seokjin’s mouth with himself until Seokjin’s crying and coming down his throat. He so desperately wants to regain control, but if this is what happens when he doesn’t have control?

Fuck that. No better time to give it all up than right now.

“Fuck, okay you have to stop or I’m going to explode.”

You look away from Seokjin’s swollen lips around Namjoon’s tip to look back at your boyfriend, who has his eyes on the ceiling, afraid to look down at the two of you for it might make him come.

“That’s not how you ask.”

“Baby.” There’s that warning tone again.

“Joonie.” You mock the tone, Seokjin pulls off, giving his tip one last lick.

“Tell him, princess.”

You grin, wrapping your hand around Namjoon’s shaft, pumping hellishly slow.

“Come on, Joonie. Be good for us. Ask correctly.”

It takes a few more pumps, Seokjin next to you, kissing your shoulder, before Namjoon lets out a deep whine, voice cracking when he finally speaks.

“Please stop. I need you to stop before I come. Please, baby.”

“I like that word coming from those lips,” Seokjin giggles, “no offense, princess. It’s just hotter.”

“None taken. I agree a hundred percent.”

“You two are the worst.” Namjoon’s muffled words send you both into a giggle fit, giving one another a small high five.

“It’s what we strive to be, Joon.” Seokjin nods in agreement, arms wrapping around your waist, chin resting on your shoulder.

“Now, since you clearly need a minute, how about I take care of the princess for a moment?” Seokjin’s lips trail up your neck to your jaw and finally seal your lips with his. He tastes like Namjoon, and you’d be lying if you said that didn’t make you want to come right then and there.

Namjoon nods, muttering approval before you’re yoinked away from your boyfriend, giggling when you’re pulled on top of Seokjin. It’s a fumble getting his briefs off as well as your dress, but you manage to do it, out of breath from laughing too much at the end.

You sit up, your mind in a blissful happiness you can’t describe at the sight of both men on the bed.

“I’m too lucky.” You whisper, using one hand to steady yourself over Seokjin’s hips, the other wrapping around his cock, giving it a few pumps to coat it with his own precum. His hands find your hips, holding tightly as you align him with your center, sinking down until he’s fully inside.

“Shit,” you curse, loving the stretch while you slowly lift your hips, circling them at the same time.

“Come on, princess. Show me what you can do.” Seokjin coos, giving your ass a light spank to encourage you to move. You scoff, grabbing the hand on your ass to hold it there as you pick up the pace, bouncing on him.

Seokjin’s cock is perfection, honestly. Or as close to it as one can get. Namjoon’s is too. But goddamn Kim Seokjin’s dick can make you see stars.

Neither of you notice Namjoon getting on his knees to crawl to you, grabbing your face and kissing you like he’s never kissed you before.

It’s hunger, lust, love, vulnerability, and just everything kissing should be with the one you love.

You melt into him, your pace slowing again on Seokjin’s hips, your hands reaching to hold your boyfriend’s face.

It’s not enough.

“Joonie,” you breathe against his lips, your hips stilling, “I need you.”

“Wait until hyung’s done, baby.”

You shake your head almost too fast, pushing him back a bit. You gesture to Seokjin to fully lay down, laying across his torso, lifting your ass up as if you’re presenting yourself to him.

“Both, Joonie. Want you both.” You moan against Seokjin’s collarbone, your hips rolling against his own, keeping his cock inside you.

There’s a breath of a curse and your princess nickname under you, his hands holding your waist as you still.

“Jagi,” Namjoon chokes in his next breath, eyes focused on your stretched cunt swallowing Seokjin whole, “are you sure?”

“Yes. I need it, baby. Wanna feel you both.”

“You’re not nearly stretched enough.”

“I’m fine. Please.”

“If she says she’s fine, she’s fine, Joon. Please hurry up.” Seokjin tries to joke, but his jest is cut off by a groan when you lift your hips and slam them back down for some kind of friction. “Princess, behave. I’m trying to help you.”

“Both.” You whimper desperately. “Need you both.”

“Listen to her, Joonie,” Seokjin teases, spreading his legs some, “she needs us. You gave control. Do as she says.”

“I did not give her control.”

“Joonie.” You cry with another roll of your hips.

“Shit, Jagi. Okay.” His voice is rushed as he gets in his knees between Seokjin’s legs.

“He’s so whipped for you, princess.”

You giggle softly into Seokjin’s neck. The three of you have to maneuver around just a little for the right angle, but you finally feel the tip of your boyfriend’s cock along your inner thigh.

You clench at the sensation, quietly apologizing to Seokjin when he gasps.

“Relax, princess. You have to relax if you want us both.”

“I do. I do, I do. Want you both.”

“Kiss me.” Those two words have your head spinning as you lift it to melt your lips to his.

In the back of your mind, you know what he’s doing. He’s distracting you, giving you something else to focus on and relax. And goddamn does it work. You get so lost in the feeling of his lips, the way his tongue dances with yours, and matching your breathing to his, that you barely notice Namjoon pressing inside of you, cock sliding against Seokjin’s. Not until Seokjin lets out a guttural groan at the pressure.

Then you feel it.

How full you feel.

Both men inside you.

How it should be.

No choices. No turns. Just together. The three of you.

The stretch is intense. Borderline painful. But you’re so aroused from just the fact that both the men you love so much are inside you at the same time, that the pain lessens quickly.

“You okay, Y/N?” Namjoon’s voice echoes against your ear.

You try to hold yourself up to lean into him, but feel your arms giving out. As if he knows what is happening, because of course he knows, an arm snakes its way around your middle, holding you up against him, allowing you to focus on the feeling of them.

“Full.” You mutter, hand reaching behind you to run your fingers through Namjoon’s hair. “So full. ‘Sokay though, you can move.”

His lips press against your ear, then your neck, ending on your shoulder as he gives Seokjin a look before they both nod, alternating their thrusts. Every time Namjoon pulls back, Seokjin pushes further in and vice versa.

It feels too fucking good. But you can’t do it yet. You can’t come yet. You need the feeling to last longer. You try to prolong the feeling, rolling your hips to meet with Namjoon’s thrust, clenching around him as you do so.

You shouldn’t have done that.

Instead of prolonging it, it just forces your orgasm. Your sensitive clit rubs just the right way against Seokjin’s pelvis, making you cry out in complete euphoria.

“Oh, fuck!” Namjoon’s voice cracks behind you, hips stuttering before pressing flush against you.

You can feel his cum pooling inside of you, spreading around with your own arousal as Seokjin’s thrusts continue, encouraging Namjoon to keep coming until they both have to pull out from you and Namjoon becoming oversensitive.

Namjoon falls back from his sitting position on his knees to on his ass, hands holding him up behind him. You roll off Seokjin, eyes shut as you breathe heavily. Your body can’t decide between closing your legs to keep Namjoon’s cum inside and keeping your legs open because of the soreness and sensitivity.

It takes a few seconds before you hear a body shuffling on the bed and a gasp from beside you.

“What are you doing?!” Seokjin whisper-shouts. Your eyes fly open as you turn to look at the gorgeous sight beside you.

Seokjin is still lying down, legs spread. But he’s looking down between them where Namjoon has settled on his stomach, hand cautiously wrapped around Seokjin’s still hardened erection.

“You haven't come yet.” Namjoon states.

“So, what? You’re gonna jerk me?”

“No? I was gonna try…sucking.”

You and Seokjin both snicker at the same time, much to Namjoon’s annoyance.

“Oh. I can’t decide if that was adorable or fucking hot.” Seokjin cackles, a hand holding Namjoon’s face gently. Namjoon tries swatting the hand away, losing very quickly when you’re suddenly laying on your stomach as well, but near Seokjin’s side.

“It was both. One hundred percent, it was both.” You kiss the cheek not being cradled. “Want some help?”

It’s the way he nods so nervously that makes your heart burst. You grin, settling in closer.

“Well, you’ve seen me do it a million times. Use the lips, avoid teeth, the balls are fun, always kiss the tip, know your limits.” You give the instruction fairly easily, trying not to giggle at his anxiousness. “You’ll be okay, Joonie. And if you don’t like it, you can stop at any time.”

“I’d rather he didn’t, though.”

“Jin.” You warn, glaring at the handsome idiot.

“Don’t Jin me! You both came already! I’m dying here!”

Namjoon snorts, not hesitating or giving any warning when he leans forward to kiss Seokjin’s tip.

“Oh— fuck.” Seokjin’s hand leaves Namjoon’s face, hitting the mattress by his thigh, and taking a deep breath when Namjoon slowly wraps his lips around the head, tongue dancing along the slit.

You watch in awe, giving words of encouragement as Namjoon lowers his mouth further down Seokjin’s cock, trying his best to take as much as he can. His hand cradles his balls, massaging them gently, but giving a small tug every now and again.

“You’re doing so good, Joonie.” You praise over and over, running your hand through his hair, “make him come, baby. Make him lose control the way you do to me.”

Namjoon finally hits his gag reflex, coughing slightly around Seokjin. His eyes lift to find Seokjin’s head leaning back, hand hitting the mattress again, fingers digging into the blanket.

“Careful.” Your eyes widen slightly, resisting the urge to pull him off. If Namjoon wants to stop, he’ll stop.

Also the sight and sounds are way too erotic to want to stop him.

Seokjin’s head snaps forward at the feeling of Namjoon’s free hand pulling the hand tangled in the sheets, placing the hand in his hair.

Their eyes meet.

Seokjin smiles, his fingers tangling in Namjoon’s hair as the younger’s head lifts to wrap around the tip, tongue teasing it.

“Goddamn, Joonie, that’s fucking perfect.” Seokjin lets out a light laugh, almost in disbelief at what’s happening. His hand slowly presses his head down, making Namjoon take more of him until it hits the back of his throat again.

You honestly don’t know what to do yourself. Do you touch them? Join in? Say something? Encourage them to continue? Honestly, you’d rather just sit back and enjoy the visual of your boyfriend and best friend enjoying one another.

You do, however, find yourself rolling your hips against a blanket, soaked center making it perfect for your clit to glide along as you watch.

And of course, Namjoon knows what you’re doing, even with his best friend’s dick down his throat. The free hand that had Seokjin’s trades with the one cradling his balls, quickly pulling the blanket away from you. You whine in protest, but his hand quickly finds its way between your legs, long fingers collecting up arousal and cum to spread around your clit.

Your hips buck up closer to his hand, whimpering when a finger finds its way past your entrance, pumping you in perfect timing with the way he bobs his head.

You know exactly what the fuck he’s doing.

It takes barely a few minutes of the synchronized bobbing and pumping until Seokjin is almost in tears, moaning loudly as he comes down Namjoon’s throat at the same time your hips lose any and all sense of rhythm, coming around Namjoon’s fingers as you hug Seokjin’s thigh.

Your come down is broken through when you hear Seokjin mutter come here and both hands grab at Namjoon, pulling him up his body to kiss him.

To actually kiss him.

Seokjin kissing Namjoon.

After Seokjin just came down Namjoon’s throat.

And Namjoon is kissing him back, open mouth, tongues tangling together.

This is the fucking dream.

You mutter a soft curse, lazily grinning at the sight. Seokjin seems to be the only one who hears you, pulling away from Namjoon’s lips with a grin.

“Happy birthday, Joonie.” Seokjin gives another peck on the lips. Namjoon sighs into the quick kiss, lips faintly chasing the other’s.

“You finally got your kiss, Jin.” You tease, the three of you giggling together. You scoot back a little bit, letting Namjoon get off Seokjin, laying between you both.

“Finally.” He laughs as you throw your leg over Namjoon’s right leg, head ducking under his arm to rest on his chest. Seokjin is quick to mimic the position on the opposite side of Namjoon, who seems too blissfully out of it to care about the teasing.

It’s silent for a moment, but your brain won’t shut up.

And of course, Namjoon knows.

“So should we have that talk now?” Namjoon’s words are quiet against the silence of the three of you in the afterglow moments. Both you and Seokjin make questioning noises, prompting you to look up.

“What talk?”

“Jagi…wanna tell him?”

Your eyes widen in a small panic, but Namjoon’s fingers dance along your spine reassuringly.

You can do this. It’s fine. It’ll be fine.

“Uh, Jin. I don’t want this to be…like Namjoon and myself in a relationship with you as a bonus. I want the three of us to be…”

“A throuple?” Seokjin’s quick to catch on. Namjoon smiles, eyes shut.

“If you want. Clearly, you and Joon have something. You and I have something. Obviously Joon and I have something…”

“I’d be happy to be a boyfriend to you both.”

You can feel Namjoon’s heart pounding under your cheek, your own heart doing the same.

“Yeah? Officially?” You just know the way you’re grinning looks like a child told they’re going to Disneyland, and you don’t fucking care. This is so much better.

“As long as this guy wants it,” his head jerks up to the man lying between you both, arms wrapped around both of you. He’s got a smug smile with his beautiful puffy lips.

“I do.” Namjoon confirms with a sigh, “dunno how I’m gonna deal with both of you when you’re being brats, but…”

“We are never brats.”

“Yeah!” Seokjin lightly hits Namjoon’s stomach, “maybe it’s just that you are a strict spoilsport. Ever think about that?”

“You’re literally being a brat right now.” Namjoon’s monotone voice cracks with just a hint of amusement. You stay silent, curling up closer to Namjoon as they continue to bicker with a smile.

“Wow. Day one of our relationship, and you’re already being so rude. Do you even know who I am? How lucky you are?”

You bite back the laugh, letting yourself fall asleep to the voices of your two boyfriends.

When you wake up the next morning, it’s to the sound of screaming. But not from either of the men you fell asleep with.

“Sorry! Sorry sorry sorry! We’ll just…we’ll be out here! Yoongi, come on!” You know that voice. Why is that voice in Greece?

Oh fuck.

Once the bedroom door closes, you sit up quickly, your head spinning from the sudden position change as you wrap the blanket around your top half. You leap out of bed, trying to find clothes.

“Y/N? Care to explain?” Namjoon’s voice is higher than normal, still sitting upright in the bed.

Fuck.

“This was the wrong way to surprise you.” You throw some shorts, a tank top, some underwear and a bra onto the bed, quickly getting rid of the blanket to change.

“I was supposed to wake up early and let them in and we’d make breakfast and it’d be a whole big birthday thing. But then we…last night…and I just…forgot.”

“You forgot Yoongi and Jimin were going to be joining us in Greece?”

“Don’t even start!” You button the shorts around your waist, throwing the tank top on after. “You forgot your own birthday!”

“He forgot his birthday?” Seokjin makes his appearance from the bathroom, looking as disheveled as you do in his haste to put on clothes. He sits on the bed, toothbrush in his mouth. The only one still naked is Namjoon, who just has a blanket covering his bottom half.

“For like a moment.” The birthday boy shrugs. You cut him off before he can continue.

“Whatever. Jin and I will go set things up. You put some pants on and laze about or something, you birthday grump.”

“Not a birthday grump.”

“I thought you’d be happy with your friends out here with us.”

“I am, Jagi. I am and I love you for it. But they just saw both of my partners naked in bed with me and you know I don’t like others seeing what’s mine.”

You have to remind yourself that Yoongi and Jimin are just outside the door. You cannot tease your boyfriend into fucking you right now.

“Joonie. They’re together. They don’t care about what they see. Yoongi and I are like siblings.”

“He’s still possessive.” Seokjin shrugs, returning to the bathroom to spit out the toothpaste. You swap places with him, quickly brushing your teeth and trying not to look like a complete mess.

Namjoon’s at the door when you leave the bathroom, pants on but no shirt.

Damn him.

You pout. But not for the reason he thinks.

“Thank you for inviting Yoongi and Jimin out here for my birthday, baby.” His voice is softer, hands reaching for your waist.

“I just wanted it to be a fun birthday.”

“It’s been a great birthday so far. I’m sure it’ll get even better. Thank you.” He presses his lips to yours, lips tugging into a smile when you melt against him. When he just barely pulls away, he mumbles “I love you, Jagi.”

“I love you, too.” You sigh against his lips. The sound of something moving on the bed pulls you away, making you laugh when Seokjin appears by you.

“Excuse me, I paid for their flights. Where’s my thank you kiss?”

“Shut up, hyung.” Namjoon rolls his eyes, grabbing Seokjin by the back of the neck and cutting off any sassy responses with a kiss. Seokjin melts into him just like you did, but pushes away after a second.

“Brush your teeth, stinky. You taste like last night. Let’s go, princess.”

Seokjin’s hand grabs yours, pulling you out of the bedroom and into the living room where the two wait.

“So…” Yoongi’s voice trails, eyes set directly on your joined hands.

“What’s going on with you three?” Jimin completes the question for Yoongi, who’s sitting on the couch with him, legs crossed and foot tapping the air.

“We’re uh…together.”

“Did you and Joon break up?”

“Nope.”

“We’re all together now. The three of us.” Seokjin explains further for you.

Both boys sit there, Jimin with an amused, almost shocked expression, and Yoongi of course stone faced. It’s silent until Yoongi finally smiles.

“You’re welcome.” Is all he says, standing up from the couch and heading to the kitchen

“I said it wouldn’t happen. Yoongi said otherwise.” Jimin giggles, bouncing up. “Okay, let’s go make the birthday boy some food!”

“Nope. You’re banned from kitchens, remember?” Yoongi grabs both of Jimin’s wrists before he can reach for any utensil.

“Minnie, help me decorate and let the old men cook.” You call out, ignoring the shocked gasp from your boyfriend.

Jimin sighs, joining you, the other banned one, to help decorate.

Namjoon joins half an hour later, trying to help you and Jimin decorate, only to be banned after he pops a confetti balloon. He tries to help in the kitchen, but Yoongi goes off on him when he tries to cut a vegetable incorrectly.

“I thought you’re supposed to be nice and loving to people on their birthday.” He grumbles from the couch.

Jimin has taken over the decorations, his interior design skills coming in handy to make it look perfect. You are settled on the couch next to Namjoon, curling up in his arms.

“You’re also not supposed to help with your birthday party, silly.” You both laugh, watching the ridiculousness going on in this villa in Greece of all places.

“Thank you again, baby.” Namjoon whispers against your temple, a kiss following after, “This has been an amazing trip.”

“Of course, Joonie. And thank you for being the man I love. Happy birthday.” You look up, smiling before your lips find his, and you feel whole. Jimin says something and Namjoon pulls away to respond. You take a second to look over at the kitchen.

Yoongi’s ranting about how annoying grocery shopping is on the island, but Seokjin’s not paying attention. His eyes are on you and Namjoon, handsome face smiling ear to ear.

You can’t help but smile back.

You have the man you’ve loved for years and the man you know is your soulmate. You don’t need anything else.

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solarmorrigan · 3 months

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Hands Where I Can See Them, part 11.5 [Rated E]

Optional smut continuation of part 11. Full chapter under the cut, click through at your own discretion. Read here on Ao3

[Warnings/Tags: very mild d/s dynamics (like. super mild, mentioning it just to be safe), unsafe sex, slightly possessive behavior (welcomed), rimming, anal fingering, anal sex, bottom!Steve/top!Eddie]

This is far from the first time Eddie’s had Steve spread out beneath him in bed.

This isn’t the first time he’s had him naked, skin flushed, chest heaving, lips parted and kiss-swollen, staring up at Eddie with bright, eager eyes – and god (or whoever else) willing, it won’t be the last.

But something about it still feels new.

There’s an awareness now – and understanding that this isn’t just his friend Steve, that they aren’t just here to have a good time, to make each other feel good and then part ways. The man beneath him is his, as much as Eddie belongs to him in turn; there’s something solid between them now, heavy and binding and comforting in its weight.

Eddie looks down at Steve with the knowledge that Steve wants to be with him, only with him, that Steve loves him and is letting Eddie love him in return, and Eddie wants to devour him.

So he gives into the urge.

Kneeling between Steve’s thighs, Eddie leans in and presses his lips to the soft spot just behind the hinge of Steve’s jaw, kissing and licking and nipping his way down the length of his neck. Steve is sighing with it when Eddie reaches the crook of his shoulder, where he opens his mouth and bites down on the thick muscle beneath his lips.

“Ah!” Steve hisses and jerks beneath Eddie, but the arm that comes up around Eddie’s back only pulls him closer.

Of all the many varied things they’ve done in bed together, this is the one thing Eddie had always wanted that he’d never indulged: biting, marking.

Steve hadn’t been his, he’d reasoned, so the right to leave hickeys and bitemarks hadn’t belonged to him. Now, though – now, Eddie eases up on the pressure of his teeth and instead seals his lips over the tender skin, sucking hard enough to bruise.

Beneath him, Steve practically whines, hooking one leg up over Eddie’s hips and pulling him closer, grinding up against him. Eddie moans, rocking into the feeling of Steve’s cock rubbing against his, hard and hot and beginning to bead with precome, and he finally releases Steve’s neck, licking over the bruise before he goes.

Ducking down, Eddie mouths his way across Steve’s collarbones, over his chest, and latches onto a patch of skin just over where he estimates Steve’s heart should be, scraping the spot with his teeth before he sets to sucking in another mark.

“Fuck, Eddie,” Steve hisses, all but squirming under Eddie now.

Eddie pulls away, kissing the already-purpling bruise he’s left before looking up at Steve, taking in the dark flush that’s starting to spread down his neck, the wet shine of his lips as he pants for air, and he grins.

“Gonna tell me what you want, sweetheart?” he asks.

Steve licks his lips, nodding. “I want to feel you – want you inside,” he says, low and rough. “Fuck me, Eddie.”

Eddie groans, the words going straight to his cock. He’d been pretty certain of the answer, but it doesn’t pay to assume; they don’t do this every time, and it isn’t as though they never switch it up (Eddie can remember the last time Steve had fucked him; his knees sliding across the sheets with Steve’s big hands curled around his hips, holding him in place as his cock split him open, the pace slow and deep, until Eddie had been all but drooling into the mattress and coming with barely more than a couple of tugs to his cock), but four times out of five, if they fuck, it’s Steve on the bottom.

They’d discovered together how sensitive he is, how he melts for just a couple of fingers inside of him, how he’ll practically scream if he’s fucked just right, how responsive he is if someone lays him back and doesn’t let him think.

Steve loves the feeling of being taken care of, of being filled and so obviously wanted, and Eddie– Eddie can’t think of a single damn thing better than the feeling of those thick thighs wrapped around his waist, shaking with the pleasure that Eddie is providing, or the sight of that strong back curved down in offering, waiting for Eddie to take him apart.

There’s nothing Eddie wants in the world as much as he wants to make Steve feel good right now, and he plans on pulling out every little thing he’s learned in the months they’d spent having—as Steve had said—a lot of sex in order to do just that.

“Anything you want, Steve,” Eddie croons – and he fucking means it. He scoots away and pats Steve’s hip before instructing him with a little twirl of his finger, “Over. On your knees, baby.”

While Steve twists on top of the covers, moving to obey, Eddie stretches for the bedside drawer, reaching in for the lube and condoms that are still right where he expects them to be, even though it’s been a couple of months since he’s had occasion to even be near them.

He turns back to find Steve waiting for him on his hands and knees, watching with anticipation, and Eddie shakes his head.

“Not quite what I meant,” he says, dropping the lube and condom on the bed before moving one hand to cup the back of Steve’s neck and press down gently. “Just your knees.”

And just like that, Steve goes down, shoulders braced on the bed, face half-buried in a pillow, allowing himself to be bent and molded to Eddie’s specifications, trusting Eddie to give him what he needs – and Eddie very much intends on delivering.

He presses a kiss to the base of Steve’s spine and runs his hands up the backs of his thighs, coming to cup his ass in his palms. He allows himself one indulgent squeeze to those soft handfuls before pressing his thumbs between Steve’s cheeks and spreading him open, exposing his tight, pink hole.

The breath Steve lets out is audible, sharp and anticipatory as Eddie leans in and blows a teasing stream of air over him before, with no further warning, he licks a thick stripe up from balls to tailbone.

“Unh-!” Steve sounds surprised, but the noise that comes from deep in his chest is no less pleasured for it. “Fuck, Eddie–”

Eddie hums and aims another broad lick right across Steve’s hole, and from there, the noises don’t stop. Eddie’s always loved eating Steve out for exactly this reason – it drives him crazy. He gets loud and squirmy and, if Eddie keeps at it long enough, teary and desperate. He’s so sensitive, so responsive, and Eddie fucking eats it up.

(So to say.)

He progresses from teasing strokes with the flat of his tongue to testing probes with the tip, and Steve answers him beautifully, pressing his ass back towards Eddie with a whine. Eddie obliges the unspoken request, sliding his tongue past the tight ring of muscle, and Steve shouts.

“Shit! Ah, ah–” He thrusts back, the arch of his spine curving deeper, hands fisting the comforter as he tries to get closer while Eddie fucks him with his tongue. “God, Eddie, please.”

Eddie wonders, not for the first time, if he could get Steve to come on his tongue alone, but now isn’t the time to find out. Instead, he pulls away to reach for the lube, ignoring the little sob of air Steve lets out as he goes; he’ll be back soon enough.

He drizzles some lube out into his hand, spreading it between his fingers and thumb, warming it just a little before he’s spreading Steve open with his dry hand and rubbing his thumb over his hole. He’s already a little puffy, flesh still wet from Eddie’s tongue, and he opens up beautifully, taking Eddie’s thumb all the way to the last knuckle with a long, low groan.

“God, look at you,” Eddie says, twisting his hand and feeling the silky heat against the pad of his thumb. “Take me so beautifully, it’s like I belong inside you.”

“Yeah.” Steve nods rapidly against the pillow. “God, yes, you – ohfuck!”

Eddie smirks as he hooks thumb inside of Steve and tugs, gently but inexorably stretching him wider, watching as Steve bucks back into the feeling. He ducks back down and shoves his tongue into the space he’s making for himself, and listens to Steve cry out.

Eventually, Eddie’s thumb is replaced by two fingers, and by the time he gets to three, Steve is all but sobbing, shifting restlessly as if his body can’t decide whether it wants to drive further into the pleasure or if it wants to escape Eddie and the relentless way he’s been stroking Steve’s prostate for the last minute.

“I’m – ‘m gonna – fuck, Eddie, fuck me, please,” Steve begs, legs shaking and hips canting towards Eddie still, like he just can’t help himself.

Gently, Eddie slides his fingers out, pressing another kiss to the tip of his tailbone as he goes. “Back over for me, sweetheart,” he says. “I wanna see your pretty face.”

“Starting… to feel like a dog,” Steve pants as he flops onto his side and then turns over onto his back, “the way you keep ordering me to roll over. Gonna tell me to sit and stay next?”

“Well, you are a very good boy,” Eddie says, smirking at the predictable catch in Steve’s breath, the way he goes absolutely still for a moment; if the flush high on his cheeks could get any darker, Eddie’s willing to bet it would right now, but the way his cock twitches hard against his belly gives him away all the same.

Eddie doesn’t push it today—it’s something they can have fun with later, with the many, many laters he hopes there will be—and instead reaches for the condom he’d abandoned to the side of the bed.

“Hey,” Steve says softly, watching Eddie’s hands. “Was there – was there ever anyone else? While we…?”

“Oh, fuck, no,” Eddie rushes to assure him, fumbling and nearly dropping the condom packet when he reaches for one of Steve’s hands and grips it tight. “No. I mean, Jesus, Steve, I had you – even if I didn’t quite understand how I had you, why would I have wanted anyone else then?”

Steve gives a little shrug. “I didn’t think– I mean, I hoped not, but I just– thought I’d ask. Because if there hasn’t been, then… you don’t really need that.” He nods at the condom, still clutched in Eddie’s free hand. “If– if you don’t want.”

“You–” Eddie breaks off, choked for a second by the feeling of pure arousal that rises up in his chest. “You want me to?”

Steve nods at whatever meaning he takes from Eddie’s half-formed question and sits up to cup a hand around the back of Eddie’s neck, pulling him into a kiss.

“Wanna feel you. Nothing between us,” he murmurs as they break apart. He kisses the corner of Eddie’s mouth, his cheek, and then leans in to speak quietly, right into his ear, “You can come inside me, if you want.”

“Jesus fucking Christ.” Eddie practically lunges for the lube, flipping the cap open with an urgency he usually tries to keep in check. “If I want. If I want, he says!”

Laughing, Steve falls back against the pillows, watching through half-lidded eyes with satisfaction. “I mean, it kinda looks like you do,” he teases, and Eddie manages a breathless laugh as he’s stroking himself with one lube-slick hand.

“You’ve convinced me, Steve,” he says, aiming for dry but still sounding eager.

He positions himself between Steve’s thighs, guiding his cock until the tip is resting snug against Steve’s hole, and they both breathe sharp with the anticipation. But instead of pushing immediately in, Eddie leans up, taking Steve’s mouth in a kiss, deep and slick and consuming.

“I love you,” he says before they’ve really even pulled apart.

Steve’s expression goes soft at that, eyes wide with something that sparks like wonder. “I love you, too,” he answers, and Eddie grins.

He hopes that even if Steve says it a thousand times, he never gets used to hearing it. He wants it to feel like the first time, every time.

Slowly, he pushes forward, his mouth falling open at the heat squeezing around the head of his cock. Oh, he’s missed this – he’d missed everything about Steve, of course he had, but fuck if he hasn’t missed the way his body welcomes him in, grips him tight like it never wants him to leave.

He’s missed Steve’s fingers digging little bruises into his arms or his shoulders, missed the way his hair frizzes out across the pillow as he tosses his head back, missed the almost feverish gleam in his eyes when he’s close to coming – Eddie’s missed it all, and when he finally sinks in to the hilt, it feels like coming home.

“Oh, fuck, Steve,” Eddie breathes, pausing with his hands braced on Steve’s hips, wondering how long he’s even going to last.

“Move,” Steve all but demands, the desperation that had abated during their brief conversation returning with a vengeance. “Fuck, Eddie, please move.”

And Eddie had promised him anything he wants – he’s not about to deny him now. He pulls back, sliding almost all the way out before shoving back in, hard and fast the way that’s always made Steve light up in the past, and Steve doesn’t disappoint.

“Yes!” His back arches, hips bucking up to meet Eddie’s thrust. “God, just like that, Eddie, fuck.”

And fuck Eddie does, setting an unrelenting pace that pushes sweet noise after sweet noise out of Steve’s throat, hitting Eddie’s ears like music, like Steve is the best instrument he’ll ever learn to play. He’s not sure he can keep it up for long, but he’s not sure he’ll have to; Steve looks at least as far gone as he is, if not even closer to orgasm after all the time Eddie spent opening him up.

“God, fucking – perfect,” Steve hisses, his hands coming down to cover Eddie’s where they rest on his hips. “Always feel so fucking good.”

The hands over his own make Eddie pause, fully sheathed inside of Steve, panting and still for a moment. Then he takes his hands from Steve’s hips and instead twines their fingers together, leaning forward so he can brace their joined hands on the bed on either side of Steve’s head.

Steve clutches tightly at Eddie, letting out a delighted little noise that turns into a full-chested moan when Eddie pulls out and thrusts back in.

“Yeah?” Eddie asks, aiming for the same spot again and getting an even louder noise for his effort. “Right there, baby?”

“Yes,” Steve gasps, his legs coming up around Eddie’s waist, encouraging him to thrust in harder, deeper. “Fuck, yes, yes, yes–!”

Eddie’s cock throbs, balls drawing up as he fucks faster into Steve, his rhythm going a bit sloppy. “Gonna come, baby? Just like this? Just my cock inside you?” He’s not sure if he’s teasing or if he’s begging, trying to make sure Steve is as close to the edge as he is. “Or are you gonna wait for me? Wait ‘til I come, ‘til you can feel me hot and wet inside you, so you know you’re mine–”

Steve arches up and comes with a wail, his cock untouched between them, spilling messy and slick across his belly and chest, and Eddie is fucking helpless to do anything but come after him.

He keeps thrusting, keeps grinding up into Steve until Steve’s noises become overstimulated little whines and Eddie is feeling a little raw himself. Carefully, he slides out, glancing down just in time to see a trickle of white follow him, leaking slowly down the inside of Steve’s thigh, and he wishes he could be ready to go again right this minute.

In lieu of that, he flops half onto the mattress and half on top of Steve, peppering breathless kisses across his shoulder, across his neck, over the hickey Eddie had left that’s already a livid shade of magenta, up his jaw and over his cheek, until Steve turns his head and catches him in a kiss that keeps him still for a long moment.

“That was different,” Steve says quietly when they part. “I mean, it was good! It was great, it was just… it felt different.”

“Told you: you’re mine. And I’m yours. And now we’re both fully aware.” Eddie kisses Steve on the cheek, then pauses as he’s hit with a thought. “Oh damn, do you think we just made love or some shit?”

Steve snorts. “I’m not sure making love involves getting turned on by watching your own jizz leak out of my ass,” he says, in a tone that very much implies ‘don’t think I didn’t notice.’

“Boo, that sounds boring,” Eddie says, very much ignoring Steve’s tone. “How about we say that we fucked with love?”

“How about we don’t.”

“Amorous fucking.”

“No.”

“Sweet, sensual sodomy.”

“Oh my god, shut up,” Steve laughs, crashing his mouth against Eddie’s in something that might have been a kiss if they hadn’t both been grinning. “I love you.”

“Yeah? I guess that works: We fucked, also we’re in love,” Eddie declares, and Steve rolls his eyes.

“I guess that works, yeah,” he says quietly, smiling, still, and finally–

Eddie feels like he got it right.

No tag list on this one because I didn't know for sure who'd be comfortable with it, sorry!

#steddie #eddie munson #steve harrington #stranger things #steddie smut #(why am I remembering that as a tag. is that it? is that the right one??)#solar wrote #eddiesteve

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dirtysvthoughts · 1 year

Text

𝓟 𝓡 𝓘 𝓥 𝓐 𝓣 𝓔 𝓓 𝓐 𝓝 𝓒 𝓔 𝓡 - CHAPTER ONE

pairing: gang leader! soonyoung x stripper! reader

word count: 2.3k

general tags/warnings: smut, pwp, female! reader, mentions of violence, m*rder, and blood, stripper things, a steamy lap dance, reader gets fully nude, big dick! soonyoung, pet names (pretty girl, baby, etc.), reader falls for soonyoung, sex w/o condom (remember if they can’t wrap it, protect yourself please), kinda a slow burn for the start of the series!

playlist songs: everything you want - pap chanel, streets - doja cat, naughty girl - beyoncé

notes: ITS FINALLY HERE BABESSSS!! i’m so excited to share this series with y’all and i hope you enjoy it! <3 every chapter will include up to 3 songs inspired by the events of the story!

soonyoung sits alone in a dark corner of his faction’s warehouse, only a few spotlights illuminating their large meeting space - deep in thought. tonight, it was just him and his five most trusted guys, finishing what might’ve been their most difficult job yet.

soonyoung is the leader of one of the most infamous gangs in the region, known for their ruthless ways. they’ve murdered, gambled, brawled with other rival gangs. many of their incidents have ended in extremely close calls, with someone either near death or two steps away from handcuffs. but they didn’t care. this was they way of life they chose. anyone that dared come in their way, they eliminated them without hesitation.

“double check the duffel bags, and make sure not one bill is missing," soonyoung says as he gets up, going to wash away the rest of the blood remnants from his hand. their job tonight was taking out another gang’s higher ups, they and they put up a hell of a fight. soonyoung genuinely wondered if the close calls he got in that knife fight were even worth they amount of money they were promised. “i swear to god if he fucks up my income again, that’s his ass,” he grumbles, hoping that this would be over with faster than he thought.

when he finishes, he approaches the table where the rest of his comrades were. “well?” he says, watching one of the guys as he puts the last stack of paper through the money counter, the familiar sound of cash rustling through the machine.

“that’s it - all $40,000 from tonight’s job, boss,” one of the guys say, wiping his forehead, hissing when he brushes against a slight gash. soonyoung smiles for probably the first time all day, relieved that finally, he could get to do what he wanted to do.

“alright boys, gather up the bags and shut all of this shit down - i got the perfect place for us to spend some of this cash,” he presses a button opening a garage door as he walks out first, heading to a black suv.

——

“club illusion?” another one of his guys say as they pull into the club’s parking lot, viewing the neon purple and green signs. “not to question you soonyoung, but why here?”

he rolls his eyes and scoffs i’m the passenger seat, surprised at how not everyone was connecting the dots. “word is, they have the best and prettiest dancers here, and they might have some dealers here, heard they have the strongest shit too..” soonyoung says as he jumps out the car, fixing his jacket as he walks forward, everyone else exiting the car packing around him for protection.

the group walks past everyone in the long line, complaints and shouting starting to get louder the further they reached the entrance. but before soonyoung can sneakily bypass to get inside, one of the bodyguards stops them.

“yo, i’m pretty sure you see this line - what makes your think that you’re better than everyone else?” soonyoung smirks as he shows the patches on his jacket, signifying his affiliation and ranking. the guard’s eyes widen for a second, but he slips back into his demeanor.

“listen,” he says in a low tone for only him and the guard to hear, “i’ve had a long day, and i would really like to relax.. and you don’t wanna see me not relaxed,” the guard glances at the other men, meeting their menacing stares, and looks back at soonyoung.

“drop your weapons in the bin,” the guard says. soonyoung places his hand on the guard shoulders, smirking at him as he walks past. “wise choice,” he says as he drops his knife in the bin, the others following suites, chuckling as they walk past, some of them flicking him off.

—-

blue stage lights flood the club’s main floor as people sit on the tables and lounges, dancers in skimpy outfits, twirling on the poles and shaking their asses to the heavy bass. cash scatters some of the stage platforms, dancers teasing their audience by sexily covering themselves with it. the air smells hazy, a tinge of weed lingering in the atmosphere.

“forget i questioned you boss - we definitely needed to come here tonight,” he smiles, nodding his head at a dancer he made eye contact with. “i’m not leaving until i fucked one of these girls and have them screaming my name,” he says starting to drift away from the others.

“you guys are free to go where you want,” soonyoung says, eyeing his surroundings quickly. “if you run into any body, let me know and i’ll handle it.”

as the guys separate, soonyoung walks forward, observing the sights around him. as his mind takes it all in, the dj drops a beat and comes back on the mic.

“what’s up, club illusion!” the dj yells and the crowd responds appropriately. “we got some great dancers in the building and they got bills to pay, so show ‘em some love!” the audience cheers and more people continue to toss their cash on the stages.

“now coming to the main stage, one of club illusion’s sexiest, seductive dancers - welcome to the main stage, ms. sageeeeee!!” the crowd screams wildly as the lights dim and they focus on the main stage, soonyoung’s eyes immediately taking what was in front of him.

the music starts, the familiar “oohing” of the streets silhouette remix playing with through the speakers.

and that’s when he sees you.

you confidently strut on stage, your black, glossy 8 inch pleasers striding one in front of the other, your strappy black bodysuit practically exposing all of your backside. once you reach the pole, you roll your head to the right and slide your hand up your body.

“put your head on my shoul-” the music switches and you go into a side spin, the crowd continuing to go crazy as you transition and hold a pose upside down.

as the song progresses and come to end, soonyoung can’t your eyes off you for one second. he’s enamored by you - your movement, your presence, not to mention how sexy you looked in that barely-there bodysuit. you strike a final pose on the pole as the music fades. the audience continues to scream, bills covering the front of the stage.

after holding for a few seconds, you transition off the pole and gather your money, one of the bodyguards helping you down the steps when you’ve finished.

and that’s when you notice him.

from across the room, he looked like just another man in the club, but close up, you couldn’t deny how hot you felt when your eyes met each other’s. his all-black fit from his distressed jeans to his oversized jacket, his height, his black hair - he looked too good to be true.

as you begin to part ways, you wave and wink at him, hoping you caught his attention. he smirks at you, letting him know that the message was received. you blush inwardly as you turn back around, praying that he would at least rent out a section on the main floor, if not a v.i.p. room.

——

as soon enter the dressing rooms backstage, you’re met with showering compliments from some of the other dancers. you thank as many as you can as you reach your spot, freshening up in case you get called back again.

as you scroll through your social media after a few minutes, one of the bottle girls comes in to the room and approaches you. “sage!” she calls you, your head snapping up to meet her eyes. “oh hey, min! what’s up?” you say putting your phone down.

“there’s some guy that keeps asking for you in one of the vip rooms, he looks kinda cute too,” she smiles nudging at your shoulder. “you better hop on that before someone else does,” she walks away heading back with her empty tray. you pause and think before you finally make a decision.

“wait, min - which room is it?”

“should be room 3!” min winks at you before going back to the main floor.

—

you’re never nervous about vip room experiences. so why now? why do you feel like your heart is about to burst out of your chest?

you’re embarrassed at your conflicting emotions. never once has a customer gotten you flustered. but then again, your customers don’t usually have an air of mystery and attraction hanging over them.

you breath out a huge, but silent sigh and pull yourself together. no matter how attractive the man downstairs was, he wasn’t gonna start making your falter.

you push the curtains away as you enter the dimly lit room, silently thanking the gods that min’s guess was right. there he was, sitting on the couch across from the pole platform. his eyes were on his phone, but now they’re completely focused on you. even closer, he still had you writhing. how could one human being look so insanely hot?

“so, you’re the man from the main floor,” you twirled your hair strands, smiling at him, walking toward him with your left arm crossed against your chest. “i heard you requested me by name. no one’s ever really done that before here,” you now are in front of him, getting dangerously closer to each other’s bodies.

“well they should more often, baby,” he says as he runs his fingers through his hair. “you’re too fucking phenomenal not to be called out by name.”

if you weren’t flustered earlier, you were definitely flustered now, desperately making sure it wasn’t showing on your face.

“speaking of names, you now know mine,” you sit next to and face him on the couch, crossing your legs. “but i don’t know yours.”

“soonyoung.”

“soonyoung,” you repeat, smiling to yourself. “i like that.”

“well soonyoung,” you say getting up from the couch, standing in front of him, slotting a leg between his. “i don’t normally give my customers choices, but i like you. do you wanna see me on the pole again? or would you rather you and i get a little closer?” you say as his hands begin to touch your body.

“i think you know where i wanna go with you,” he caresses your cheek, “i wanna see you dance on me, for me, pretty girl.”

—-—

your back faces his chest as you grind into him, his hands simultaneously roaming your thighs and playing with the straps of your bodysuit. beyoncé’s naughty girl plays through the speakers, your waist rolling in rhythm to the music.

you push your ass further on him, making sure you can feel all of him as he gets harder under your touch. “you know you can take it off right?” you say as you turn your neck toward his face. “in fact, why don’t you take it off for me?” you bite your lip hard as his hands reach further up, fondling your breasts.

after some time, he does as you ask, slowly taking off your bodysuit. you help him out as the material goes down your legs, and once it’s fully off, you toss to the front of the room.

“you’re so gorgeous,” he groans as he traces your folds, and it takes everything in you not to moan out loud. instead you muster a sigh as you turn around to have your body face front.

“if i told you i wanted to fuck you, right here in this position, how much would it cost me?” he places his hand near his jeans, hoping you were feeling the same way he did.

you pause to think about your options. “mmm, $500 sounds good to me.”

without hesitation, he pulls out a large wad of cash, thumbing through the bills and giving you a little bit more than $500. you swear he read your mind because before you can even ask, he opens his mouth.

“think of it as a nice tip,” he winks at you as you stuff the bills in your heels.

you slowly bring him in a kiss. he separates from you first, but you quickly bring him back in, kissing him with more fever. he unbuttons his jeans, zipping them down as his boxers come into view. you think you’re ready, but you’re still visibly stunned when he pulls his dick out. his thick length and veins on full display.

“damn, soonyoung,” you say biting your lip, nearly drooling. “you’ve definitely proved you have big dick energy.”

he laughs as he starts to pump himself for you, more pre cum beginning to gather at his tip. once he’s finished, he beckons you with his finger.

“make me feel good, my pretty girl,” he says as you sink down on him, both of you groaning out at the same time.

“sh-shit, soonyoung, fuck!” you hiss, holding onto his broad shoulders. “you’re so big and i feel so full,” you feel like you might cum already with his he was sheathed inside you.

when he finally starts moving, you feel like you’re seeing stars. the way he pounds into you, you can feel the coil in your stomach get tighter. after a few more minutes of him penetrating and you moaning soonyoung’s name, you finally feel it.

“o-oh, soonyoung, ‘m gettin’ close, shit, ‘m cl-clo, ah!” you nearly scream as you come all over his lower half, part of your juices on his black denim.

“well, uh,” you giggle, looking down at him. “that was something,” you brush your hair away from your face, finally looking in his direction. he smiles back at you, putting his dick back in his pants.

you pull each other for one last kiss, wanting to feel his touch just one more time.

“something tells me that it might be a minute before i see you again.”

“you never know, pretty girl. yeah i have busy job, but i can definitely make the time for you.”

#seventeen smut #svt smut #seventeen imagines #svt imagines #seventeen x reader #svt x reader #seventeen fanfic #svt fanfic #soonyoung smut #hoshi smut #hoshi scenarios #soonyoung scenarios #soonyoung imagines #hoshi imagines #soonyoung fanfic #hoshi fanfic #dsvtt: private dancer #dsvtt: kenny’s works

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candycandy00 · 5 months

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The Doll House - A Toji x Reader Fanfic Part 2

You’re in love with Toji, even after finding out he trains sex dolls at the Doll House. Taking a chance, you sell yourself to the Doll House so he can be your trainer, and you bet him that you can make him fall for you by the end of the training.

Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4

Read Geto’s Part Here!

Read Nanami’s Part Here!

Read Sukuna’s Part Here!

Read Gojo’s Part Here!

Read Choso’s Part Here!

AU! Each trainer will get their own story! This is Toji’s. I’m not sure how many parts it will have. If you’d like to be tagged in future parts, let me know! You must be an adult to be tagged! Any feedback whatsoever is adored! I’m keeping the same tag list as Geto’s part. If you’d like to be removed, please let me know!

Note: Consider these parts AU’s within an AU. So you might see Geto with a different doll from the reader in his part, but just consider this an alternate timeline lol.

Smut. 18+. Short Fem Reader. Cock drunk reader. Age difference (Reader is 20, Toji is 38). Size difference kink. Oral sex. Fingering. Use of aphrodisiacs. Divider by @benkeibear!

Toji looks down at the doll sitting on her knees between his parted thighs, running her wet tongue along the underside of his cock, from his balls to his tip. She takes as much of him into her mouth as possible, but he’s just too big. Any more than halfway and she’s choking. Doesn’t stop her from trying though, bless her cock hungry little heart.

It’s been nearly two weeks since he began training her, and she’s gotten extremely good at giving head. She pays close attention to what Toji likes, what little movements or techniques make him grunt or twitch. Usually the dolls he trains are so focused on their own pleasure, on satisfying their own hunger for dick, that they don’t put much effort into pleasing him.

There are several ways this doll is different. Like usual, he fucks every hole she has every single day, normally multiple times. And like any other doll she begs for it, constantly wanting to be stuffed full of him. She can take all of him now, though she’s still so tight it feels like his dick is in a vice grip when it’s buried in that tiny pussy of hers.

But unlike any other doll, she wants more from him. She asks him questions about himself all the time. What’s his favorite color? His favorite food? What types of music does he like? Where did he grow up? What’s his family like?

He’s answered some of these, and she was surprised when he told her he has a son. But then she smiled and said, “I hope I can meet him someday.”

“You might get to,” he’d told her. “Whenever I can’t find someone to watch him, I have to bring him to work with me.”

She’d gaped at him with a horrified expression. “You bring your son here?!”

He’d laughed then. “Don’t look at me that way! It’s not like I bring him into the room to watch! I hooked a PlayStation up in one of the empty rooms. I leave him in there with some snacks and he’s fine. I tell the other trainers so they can make sure their dolls are dressed in the dining hall.”

“Oh. That doesn’t sound as terrible as I thought,” she said. “It’s still not good though. I mean he knows what goes on here, right? Or at least has a vague idea.”

Toji had shrugged. “I don’t know what that kid is aware of. He hardly speaks to me. But he gets along with the others. It’s like he has four cool uncles.”

“Don’t you mean five?”

Toji grimaced. “Sukuna isn’t allowed to speak to him anymore. One day my kid asked him why there was always screaming coming from his room. He could have made up anything. But he looks my nine year old right in the face and says, ‘Because I’m torturing a woman in there.’ After that, Sukuna’s cool uncle privileges were revoked.”

She had laughed, despite being mildly disturbed. He’d laughed too, and it struck him then: he’d never had a conversation like this with a doll he was training. It was all sex all the time. They didn’t care about his personal life and he didn’t care about theirs. They had nothing to talk about besides what was for dinner or where he wanted them to bend over next.

He was reminded of the times he’d chatted with her in the convenience store. She’d always been so easy to talk to, so friendly and cheerful. He tries not to remember that. He’s always made a conscious effort to not view his dolls as people with lives outside this house. Because that makes it easier to fuck them over and over again and then turn them over to the next guy who will do the same. All the dolls accepted to the Doll House willingly sign their contracts. The owner doesn’t take women who are clearly being sold off against their will, but most of them sign because they’re desperate in some way. Toji prefers not to think about that.

But this new doll actually wants to get to know him. He knows he shouldn’t encourage that behavior, but she was already in love with him before the training started. Is there any point in trying to keep her from getting too attached?

Even the way she sucks his cock is different. She absolutely devours it, taking it so far down her throat that it feels like she’s trying to swallow it, but the way she looks at it, and him in general, is different. She doesn’t just look at him with lust in her eyes. There’s a genuine affection he hasn’t seen since… Well, he hasn’t seen it in a long time.

And when he cums in her mouth, completely coating her throat, tongue, lips, she looks up at his face and smiles so sweetly. Like he just did her a favor.

A shame she won’t be reserving that look for him much longer.

********************

You get to your feet as you lick your lips, making sure to swallow every last drop of Toji’s beloved cum. You’re not satisfied. Not in the least. It’s late in the evening and he’s only fucked your pussy once today. So you go over to the dresser and bend over onto it, looking behind you and wiggling your bare ass.

“Toji… fill me up, please?”

He gets up from the chair he’d been sitting in and saunters over to you, his slow pace driving you mad. He’s still dressed, but his pants are unzipped and his still hard cock is hanging out. The “aphrodisiacs” you both take every day have some strange side effects. One of them being Toji’s ability to stay hard even after cumming multiple times.

Lately he’s been increasing the dose he gives you. You’re not sure why. You don’t think you even need it to begin with. You spent countless nights touching yourself while imagining being fucked by him, way before he ever gave you the first dose. But he’s the trainer, and you agreed to do as he said.

He doesn’t really have any rules aside from insisting you take the aphrodisiacs. You can go anywhere in the house aside from the other trainers’ personal rooms and can even leave the house if you want, so long as you return by nightfall. You’ve never left since you got here though. You don’t want to waste a single moment that you could be spending with Toji.

One of the biggest perks of being his doll is that you’ve been given a front row seat to his life. You get to see exactly how he spends his time, what his routines are.

Every morning he takes a shower, grabs breakfast in the dining hall (sometimes you go with him and the two of you eat there together but most often he simply brings two plates back to his room), and then the two of you spend a few hours doing various things. Mostly fucking, though sometimes things get a little adventurous and you play strip poker together or even watch each other masturbate at the same time. Toji doesn’t seem picky about the activity. As long as it results in him cumming multiple times in a row, he’s up for anything.

Lunch is always snacks or microwaved meals from the convenience store. He doesn’t seem to like what’s usually on the lunch menu in the dining hall. You sometimes get lunch there by yourself.

In the afternoons, Toji often works out. There’s an exercise room at the house with some pretty impressive equipment. You suppose that explains how all the trainers have such perfect physiques. You love watching Toji lift weights or even run on the treadmill, your eyes glued to his sculpted form as his muscles move beneath his clothes. By the time he’s finished, you’re absolutely drenched and practically dragging him back to his room. Once you were so horny you locked the door to the exercise room and hiked your skirt up while he was doing pull ups. You ended up hanging from the bar by your trembling hands while he fucked you mercilessly from below.

On some evenings, Toji goes to check on his son Megumi. You hate being without him for a couple of hours, but you understand that it’s important for him to go. You’re dying to ask about Megumi’s mother. You know she’s no longer in the picture, as Megumi is staying with other relatives, but you don’t know if she died or just ran off and abandoned the family. You’ve danced around the edges of the topic, but never directly addressed it.

There’s a sorrow buried deep in Toji’s eyes whenever you get close to mentioning her, when you ask other, related questions hoping to get more information. “Why is Megumi staying with relatives?” “Does he look more like you?” “What did you do before you became a trainer?” All were asked in the hopes that he would talk about her, but he very pointedly never mentioned her. So you’ve stopped asking those sorts of questions. Obviously, thinking about her hurts him, and you love him enough to want to avoid that.

Now, as Toji grips your waist with his large, strong hands and rams his enormous cock into your eager pussy, you lose track of your thoughts. The only thing on your mind is the feeling of his powerful thrusts, the rhythm he builds, his skin against yours.

You’re bent over the dresser, the few items he has there scattered across the floor now. You can see him in the mirror behind you, can see his handsome face, slightly flushed from the exertion of absolutely pounding you. He sees your reflection watching him and grins at you, the charming scar on his mouth stretching slightly. As if to give you a treat, he pulls his shirt over his head, allowing you to get a good look at his muscular body.

After a moment, you glance at your own face in the mirror, and hardly recognize it. Your hair is a mess, your face red, your mouth hanging slightly open, a sheen on your lips from Toji’s cum, and your eyes… They look different somehow, like tinted glass. Is this what they call a “blissed out” face?

“Harder,” you mutter between moans.

“What was that?” Toji asks.

“Harder! Please!” you cry, suddenly feeling like it’s not enough unless he’s all the way in you womb. Is this because of the aphrodisiacs? You’re so needy today.

He leans over onto you, his chest against your back, and whispers, “Sure you can handle that?”

You meet his gaze in the mirror. “I can handle anything if it’s from you.”

“If you say so,” he says, then suddenly straightens up and lifts you into the air, holding you in front of him by your hips. You’re folded in half in midair, your arms and legs dangling above the floor. You look in the mirror and watch him relentlessly drill into your limp body, with you hanging in front of him like a literal rag doll.

“Ahhh… Toji! S-so deep…” you cry out, your body jerking in time with his thrusts.

*****************

The doll feels light as a feather in Toji’s grasp as he holds her body in front of him, fucking her so hard she has tears in her eyes. But she wants this, evidenced by the look of sheer joy on her face, the pretty lilting moans floating up from her lips.

There’s something lurid about how small and helpless she looks in the mirror, as he literally uses her body like a living fleshlight, when combined with her obvious arousal. The “aphrodisiacs”, as he calls them, are working. She’s becoming more and more obsessed with having his cock inside her, with being fucked as hard as possible. This is the key to his training: making the dolls want to be fucked all the time. Making them hungry for it.

Dolls trained by Toji are in high demand among straight male buyers. After all, who among them doesn’t want a beautiful woman who constantly begs for their dick? The other trainers cater to more specialized tastes, but Toji covers a wider clientele.

Getting his dolls hooked on his dick isn’t that hard. Toji is aware that he’s attractive. He may not be “pretty” like Gojo or Geto, but he’s got the sort of body that almost everyone who likes men finds irresistible. And he’s very good at what he does. He knows exactly how to hit every sweet spot, how to make women cum repeatedly on his cock.

No, the challenge is in getting his dolls hooked on cock in general, so that their addiction to him will easily transfer to their owners. The Doll House is a classy establishment. They’re picky about their buyers. So while they may not all be handsome, at the very least, none of them are disgusting. Personal hygiene, dressing well, and having a background free of violence are all very important.

But this doll claims to be in love with Toji, says she’s had feelings for him for two years. Getting her to transfer those feelings will definitely be a tough job. But Toji can do it. His training is thorough. Looking at her glazed eyes in the mirror, he can see that she’s losing herself to the pleasure.

He rams into her, hitting a spot that makes her scream, and then she’s cumming, twitching in his grip. Her pussy is already ridiculously tight, but when she climaxes she clamps down on him, squeezing him until he fills her completely with his cum.

She’s still quivering as he pulls her off his cock and flips her around, now holding her in his arms bridal style. She curls against his chest, her face nearly hidden. “I love you, Toji.”

He carries her to the bed and covers her up, then steps out of the room. He hears voices from the dining hall, so he follows them to find Gojo and Nanami sitting at one of the tables, talking. It’s way past dinner time, so it’s no surprise that the room is empty aside from them. There’s a steaming cup of coffee on the table in front of Nanami and in front of Gojo, some sort of ice cream-cookie-brownie monstrosity that makes Toji’s teeth hurt just to look at.

Toji walks over to the table but doesn’t sit down. He looks at Gojo and says, “You’re between dolls right now, right?”

Gojo grins as he shoves a spoonful of dessert into his mouth. “Yeah. My little puppy princess left yesterday. Why?” But before Toji can answer, Gojo says, “Oh right! It’s about that time, huh?”

Toji nods. “So can you come around this time tomorrow night?”

Gojo gives him a thumbs up while he chews, then replies after swallowing. “I’ll be there!”

Nanami looks at both of them with disapproval, but doesn’t say anything, instead taking a drink of his coffee. He’s between dolls as well, but Toji knows better than to ask for his help.

Part of Toji’s training is getting his dolls to want cock even if it’s not his. And so, after a couple of weeks, he gets his fellow trainers to help out by fucking the doll he’s training. Nanami refused the first time Toji asked, and made it clear he would never change his mind. The others will usually do it if they’re not currently training a doll. Sukuna will regardless of whether or not he has a doll at the time, but Toji prefers not to ask him. The man is a bit unsettling even to the other trainers.

Gojo is Toji’s first pick. The man can drive women wild with a glance, and Toji’s dolls are always excited about the chance to fuck him.

After confirming the plans with Gojo, Toji returns to his room and sits down on the bed next to his sleeping doll. She’s smiling in her sleep, probably dreaming of being fucked real good. He brushes the hair from her face with one hand, wondering, far from the first time, what she could possibly love about him.

“Poor thing,” he says quietly. “You’re gonna lose this bet.”

*********************

The next morning, after breakfast, Toji gives you the slightly increased dose of aphrodisiacs. Within minutes you feel the familiar heat spreading through your body, the building urge to tear your clothes off and fling yourself into Toji’s arms.

As your mind races through different ideas for sexy shenanigans you can get into today, Toji sits down in one of the two chairs in his room and says, “I think I’m coming down with something.” For emphasis, he coughs lightly.

You look up at him in alarm. “Oh no, are you feeling sick? What’s bothering you?”

He rubs his neck. “My throat’s a little sore. I’ll be fine in a day or two. I never stay sick long. But I better not exert myself today.”

You nod, understanding what he means. No wild fucking today. You wish he’d told you this before giving you the aphrodisiac, but what’s done is done. You walk over to him. “I can just suck you off today. That would be okay, right?”

He stops you before you can drop to your knees. “I don’t think that’s a good idea. I don’t wanna get my heart beating fast.”

“Oh, I’m sorry! I didn’t think of that. Well can I do anything to make you feel better? A back rub? Or if they’ll let me use the kitchen I can make you some soup or…”

He holds a hand up to stop you. “No, you don’t need to do anything. Thanks anyway. I’m just gonna get some rest.”

You watch as he climbs into bed. You resist the urge to tuck him in. Acting like a wife might overstep a boundary for him. But now you’re left standing here, incredibly horny. With no other options available, you go to the bathroom to masturbate. It feels hollow and unsatisfying without Toji there to make it interesting, but it does ease a bit of the ache.

The rest of the day is spent watching tv on low volume so as not to disturb Toji’s rest, with frequent trips to the bathroom to relieve the pressure of your arousal. Once you even sit on the floor beside Toji’s bed and pleasure yourself to the sounds of his breathing. Have you always been this desperate?

At dinner, you go to the dining hall and fetch plates for the both you and Toji. You try to find foods that would make Toji feel better while also keeping his tastes in mind. When you wake him up, he eats the dinner you brought without complaint, and seems to be feeling better. Maybe he’s not getting sick after all? Maybe he’s just tired.

After he’s finished eating, he looks at the clock, then stands up and walks to the mini fridge. “Time for your evening dose,” he says.

You look at him in confusion. “Oh, I thought I wouldn’t be taking it tonight. With you feeling bad and all.”

He brings the bottle over and hands it to you. “You can’t just stop. Part of the training is getting your body used to this.”

You hold the cold bottle in your hands. “But today was really hard on me. I wanted you so bad but I couldn’t touch you. I don’t know if I can handle more of that.”

He grins at you. “Don’t worry, I’ll take care of you tonight. Drink up.”

“Oh, are you feeling better now?” you ask, opening the lid and downing the liquid.

“Not really,” Toji says, “but I’ve made arrangements to make sure you’re satisfied.”

What does that mean? Did he get some toys to use while he’s sick? That’s not exactly satisfying but you suppose if Toji is the one using them on you, they could be fun.

Almost immediately, you feel it. The aphrodisiacs have never hit you this fast before, or this hard. You’re suddenly feverish, your face flushing red, your skin feeling prickly. There’s a growing dampness between your legs, and you drop into the nearby chair, your arms wrapped around yourself, your thighs pressed tightly together.

“Toji… I think something’s wrong.”

He looks at you calmly. “What do you mean?” he asks, though you get the impression he knows exactly what you mean.

“I’m feeling it too much. It’s… too strong,” you mutter, your body beginning to tremble. You stand up and cross the room to him. “Please fuck me! I can’t wait any longer! You can use your fingers or… or anything!”

In your hysteria, you shove one hand under your skirt, rubbing yourself through your panties.

“You’ll be fine. I’m sick so I can’t take care of you myself, but I’m not gonna leave you hanging,” Toji says, ushering you over to the bed and sitting you down on it.

Your mind can barely register what he’s saying. “Please, Toji! It’s like I’m on fire! Please make it stop! I need your cock inside me! I need-“

There’s a knock at Toji’s door. It’s such a rare occurrence that it distracts you from your madness. Toji goes to open it, and you watch, partly in a daze, as Gojo walks in. You’ve met him many times in the dining hall. He always seems friendly, and you remember thinking, the first time you saw him, that he’s a very beautiful man. He doesn’t compare to Toji, of course, but there’s an otherworldly quality to his features that’s quite striking.

Toji throws a casual arm around the other trainer. “Gojo here is gonna look after you tonight in my place.”

Gojo smiles at you, his blue eyes shining. “I’ll take real good care of you,” he says, walking towards you. “You might even like me better than Toji.”

Huh? What’s going on? Your mind is fuzzy. You look to Toji, and he gives you an approving nod. Gojo gently pushes you onto your back on the bed, then climbs on top of you. All your hazy mind can think is, “Wow, those eyes!” Is this beautiful person really going to fuck you? Toji said it’s okay. Hell, it was his idea! So it must be fine, right?

Your body is aching to be touched, to be fucked. And there’s a gorgeous man on top of you, squeezing your breasts through your shirt, kissing your neck. Ahhh, it feels so good! Your eyes slide closed as Gojo pushes your shirt up.

********************

Toji watches Gojo kiss and grope at his doll, in his bed. He’s seen this sight many times before. If not Gojo, it was one of the other trainers. And in all Toji’s years working here, he’s never once been bothered by it. After all, these women didn’t belong to him. He felt no jealousy, no possessiveness.

So why does he feel so irritated now, watching Gojo grind his still clothed body against this doll as he slowly pulls her clothes off, leaving her in nothing but panties. Gojo’s tongue on her nipple, Gojo’s fingers stroking her pussy through the fabric, the sharp little moans she’s making…. All of it irritates Toji. He’s almost definitely won the bet now, but he doesn’t feel like he’s won anything. In fact, he feels like he just lost something.

He looks away, turning his back to the scene. But just a moment later, he hears her voice.

“Wait.”

Toji turns back to look at the bed, where the doll has her hands on Gojo’s chest, pushing him back.

Gojo has stopped touching her and looks down. “Something wrong?”

She glances at Toji and then back to Gojo. “I’m sorry, but I can’t do this with you. I appreciate you offering to help me out, but the only person I want is Toji.”

Gojo gives her a sultry look that would make most women buckle. “Are you sure?”

She nods, her face still flushed, her eyes still glazed. “I’m sure.”

Gojo gets up from the bed and heads for the door. He opens it, then turns back with a smile and says, “See you guys tomorrow!”

Then he’s gone, and Toji is left alone in the room with his very cute, very horny, mostly naked doll. She’s still lying in his bed, breathing hard, staring at him. “I only want you,” she says. “I’ll wait for you. I can endure this until you feel better.”

Suddenly he wants to fuck her more than he ever has before. No doll he’s trained had turned down sex with Gojo before, especially not when they were pumped full of his special “aphrodisiacs” and he’d deprived them of sex all day.

Maybe Gojo just isn’t her type? It sure didn’t seem that way when Gojo was on top of her. And with his training, she should want sex with anyone.

He walks over to the bed, his legs carrying him there as if they have a mind of their own. His cock certainly does. It’s been achingly hard all day, even when he was pretending to be asleep. Hearing her quiet moans coming from the bathroom, and even from a few feet away from him, knowing what she was doing and what she wanted from him… it was agony.

Before he even thinks his actions through, he’s got one hand on her panties, ripping them off with one yank. She gives a little cry of surprise, but her face lights up with joy as she opens her legs to him. Her pussy is glistening with arousal, waiting for him.

He doesn’t waste any time. He ignores her questions about how he’s feeling. Right now, he just needs to be completely buried inside her. So he climbs onto the bed while pulling his cock out of his pants, lifts one of her legs into the air while rolling her onto her side, and plunges into her.

As he rails her there on the bed, he can’t help thinking about the fact that it was almost Gojo doing this. Almost Gojo getting to sheath himself in this sweet, warm, wet little pussy. A pussy meant for Toji.

From this angle, he can see her face, turned sideways on the pillow. It looks like she’s crying, but it must be tears of happiness, because she’s on the edge of cumming already.

“Toji… Toji… Toji!”

Hearing her gasp out his name as her pussy desperately clenches his cock does something to him. And before long he’s shooting his load into her body, then watching it ooze out after separating from her. He’s still hard, and she’s still not satisfied. So he rolls her over to start again.

He’ll have to try something else later. Maybe a different trainer or stronger “aphrodisiacs”. But for right now, in this moment, he only wants to fuck her until she can no longer move.

Tag List:

@suguguro @kaedear @onyxsphynx @poopoobuttsy @butterskyy @collectionofdolls @akaotv @witchbybirth @bloofinntoona @wasurenagusaa @tclbts @tojirin @lucyrocks86 @badbyeyoongi @97britt @aydene @lzaj19 @lyn-lotte @missthatgirl

#toji x reader #fushiguro toji #toji fushiguro #toji #toji smut #toji x you #fushiguro toji x reader #jjk x reader #Jjk smut

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