#i hate that you bring out the worst and best parts in me i hate that i feel so possessive and angry but also how i always try to be gentler | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

sohnric · 5 months

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plot twist – k. sunwoo

pairing: kim sunwoo x gn! reader

genre: coworkers au, enemies to lovers au. fluff, a poor attempt at comedy. movie theatre! worker sunwoo and reader. bitch boy sunwoo. the reader has anger issues. owner's son! sunwoo being annoying about everything. winter themes, sunwoo is a little kid about stuff but mostly the snow.

wc: 21k

warnings: swearing, a heated make out session. y/n's inner monologue is just my own feelings about this man im sorry. i watched too much of the office when writing this can you tell. also i made sunwoo's sister underage for plot reasons deal with it.

working with kim sunwoo has so far been the worst experience of your whole entire life. just his existence alone is enough to make your day completely miserable– though, one would think that working with movies on the daily would prepare you for the biggest plot twist of your life.

a/n: this took me SO LONG to write woah. i have a humble playlist for this fic if any of yall wanna listen to it while you read <3 a huge thank you goes to my best friend @csenke for being my biggest motivator and hype man when it came to this fic. thank u for being my first ever beta reader hihi i couldn't have done this without you i am forever grateful ily. also im tagging @heemingyu because whe told me to

ho ho ho! this fic is a part of the secret santa event by @deoboyznet ! @kimsohn maya, i was your secret santa this year, i hope you enjoy the fic i prepared for you

TONIGHT'S PREMIERE – UGLY TRUTH (2009)

If anyone ever asked you about your job in the movie theater, you wouldn’t really know what to say.

You see, what may had seemed like your dream job when you were little, acquiring the fairytale vision after going to the cinema for the first time to see the Horton movie when you were just 7, quickly turned into reality one ordinary day during your junior year of university. And it wasn’t even that hard; you just dropped off your CV at the movie theater on the corner of the town's square when you saw the sign that said ‘looking for part-timers’ in a messy, giant handwriting on the glass door– and soon enough, you found yourself in the depths of the vintage-looking cinema, wearing the red uniform the owner gave you, selling movie tickets to teenagers and taking out the trash. It’s hard to enjoy the job when you’re on bathroom cleaning duty, though, and the fact that this is what you once imagined to be the most exciting job in the whole entire world turns twice as boring when you realize just how mundane it really is.

Still, you can’t bring yourself to quit, well, because you need the money.

Do you hate working in the cinema? No. Not really. Sure, it’s kind of boring– especially on the nights when you’re selling tickets at the front and nobody comes in for hours– but it’s not that difficult. It’s not physically or mentally demanding, so you’d say that you’re still on the better end when it comes to work environment. Your boss isn’t a dick and you get paid on time– so really, if anyone asked you if you hated it, your answer would be no.

Until one fateful day, of course.

You’re met with a person that’s going to efficiently change this opinion around in one swift bat of their eyelashes and a drag of their hand through their messy hair.

“So… you’re the new part-timer?” a tall boy asks you one day when you arrive at work. You’re already wearing your uniform when you come through the front door– since you don’t really feel like changing in the toilets that are not staff-exclusive here– and frankly, his voice startles you on your way in.

“Yeah,” you nod, furrowing your brows at the stranger. “And you are…?”

“Sunwoo,” the boy says, matter-of-factly, as if you’re supposed to know who exactly he is now that he’s introduced himself to you. The look on your face may show that you’re still clueless, and see, that’s something that must have played with the boy’s ego. “Kim Sunwoo,” he snickers, “the owner’s son..?”

Blinking a few times, trying to remember if Mr Kim’s ever told you about having a son– he hasn’t– you gasp like a fish on the dry, nodding. “Oh… Hello..?” you mumble, not really knowing what to do with the information.

“Hi,” he says, face stone cold and motionless. Something’s wrong, but you can’t quite put your finger on it….

Well, you’ll have to deal with that later. “My shift starts in 5 minutes, so I gotta find Mr- your dad, and ask him what’s on my to-do list today, but it was nice meeting you,” you try to force out a polite (maybe even warm) smile before you turn on your heel and march towards the staff room, where Mr Kim usually resigns unless he is helping you out with something at the front. See, on not busy days, working at the cinema requires only one person. On Fridays, though, it can get tough. That’s when the owner makes the popcorn while you both sell and scan the tickets at the same time– sometimes you wonder why he doesn’t hire another person to help out with the job.

“Wait– newbie–”

The nickname startles you, again, as you turn around and squint at him. You have a name– and although he has no way of knowing it (other than his father telling him, but seeming that you didn’t even know about his son, Mr Kim isn’t big on sharing information)– but still, you’d love to be called by it. “It’s Y/N, actually.”

“Oh, right…” he hums, “well, Y/N, dad’s not here tonight, so… I’m… kind of in charge,” he says, nodding as he gets the words out, trying to prove his point, “he had other things to take care of, so he sent me down instead,” he explains, watching as your face morphs into one of quick understatement.

“Oh.”

“Yeah,” he nods, sucking on his teeth.

Thick silence overtakes the atmosphere. You feel awkward and out of place.

“So…?” you hum, waiting for him to tell you what to do.

Because a guy your age ordering you around at work is already embarrassing enough for a university student just trying to pay for their groceries. You’re not gonna ask for the orders yourself. You still have some dignity.

“So… I could take the ticket booth and you can clean the screening room, since there are no movies on tonight?” he suggests, rocking on his heels. The boy seems a bit shaken with the new sense of responsibility, but you figure that even his undoubtful awkwardness still doesn't put you above his position.

You mentally sigh. Cleaning is your least favorite part of the job.

Still, you’re not gonna talk back to your boss’ son. You’d like to keep your job for a while longer. At least until you find something better.

“Alright,” you nod, turning on your heels once more and preparing to disappear into the depths of the cinema.

His voice stops you again, though, frustration flowing through your veins. “Don’t forget to mop the floors! Oh, and the bathroom could use a clean as well.”

“Alright,” you nod again, your back facing him.

“Also, you need to get the gum off the chairs, I know it’s kind of disgusting, but there’s a-”

“I know how to do my job, thank you,” you turn, smiling ironically over your shoulder.

You don’t know what it is about the man that makes you so, so incredibly irritated. Maybe it’s the fact that every bit of information coming out of his mouth sounds like he’s mansplaining everything to you. Maybe it’s the fact that you feel humiliated to be told what to do by a man that’s your age. Or maybe, it’s just the sheer fact that you hate cleaning– the one thing he just told you to do.

Still, you go and get the vacuum. You go and mop the floors, you go and take the gum off the chairs and scrape it into a bucket you keep in the pantry in the back. You go and clean the bathroom, even though it’s 10 minutes until the end of your shift (you only work 4 hours on Wednesdays) and you spent almost your whole day cleaning the whole screening room by yourself (the screening room that’s giant and Mr Kim helps you with on most days). You go and wipe the mirror in the bathroom, as well as the windows in the hall.

You say that your work in the cinema is not physically demanding, but by the time you’re out, your back hurts and your knees are all bruised up from getting on the ground so often.

What really sets you off, though, is the sight of the owner’s son sitting in the booth, both legs up on the table and chewing on something, his phone in his hands as he watches, what you presume from the language resonating from the speaker, a silly anime. At least someone had fun during their shift, you think as you leave without saying goodbye to him, slamming the door behind you with a loud bang on your way out.

Quite frankly, you didn’t know what set you off so bad this time. Maybe you just had a bad day. Maybe it could've been fixed with your next shared shift with the guy– you never know.

Little did you know that it was only going to get worse from now on, though.

TONIGHT'S PREMIERE – PALM SPRINGS (2020)

If you knew your boss’s son would play the role of your supervisor from time to time, you probably wouldn't have taken the job when it was offered to you.

Why?

The reason is quite simple– while you go to work to make money, Kim Sunwoo goes to work to make your whole life a living hell. Ranging from always giving you the more difficult task of the day to making unfunny jokes about your performance (he once asked if you ran a marathon after you mopped the whole hall, his grinning figure staring at you from inside of the ticket booth), you’re starting to think that Kim Sunwoo is mentally stuck with the brain of an 11-year old boy.

More so with his recent endeavors. You don’t really know what he’s trying to achieve with all of this, but you’re starting to despise going to work even when you know he’s not on the schedule– somehow, you’re afraid his silly pranks and jokes will follow you and surprise you even when he’s not present. Is this his way of asserting dominance? You really don’t know.

It all starts one day before a movie premiere when Sunwoo walks up to you and introduces you to a new concession item to sell in the snack booth. While you don’t really know why one would even think of new combinations to sell at a cinema, since everyone’s just gonna get popcorn or nachos, you don’t really question the idea much further– Sunwoo’s father owns this place, so he must know the best marketing strategies for his business. The reality only downs on you when you’re forced to promote the “Ultimate movie mix” to every customer– which wouldn’t even be that strange, if the mix didn’t include the weird combination of pickles and candy.

Running on two all nighters and half an energy drink, you didn’t realize the snack stand doesn’t even hold pickles. You were notified the day after by your boss, though, and that wasn’t your best experience.

The terror follows when Sunwoo’s father decides to run a Star Wars marathon one weekend. The flood of customers wouldn’t be as hard to manage when you run the snack stand, but it does get more difficult when your coworker running around with a lightsaber knocks over all the buckets of freshly-made popcorn you just put on the counter for the customers to take.

He doesn’t even say sorry. Or help clean the spilled popcorn up from the floor. Or help you make a new batch.

He just laughs.

Sunwoo just loves to laugh at you. Like that one time he made you wear a giant popcorn costume and stand in front of the cinema for the entirety of your 4 hour shift on Wednesday to promote the new movie airing on Friday. Hardly anyone took the fliers you were desperately trying to force into their hands and when you came back, you saw Sunwoo pointing his camera at you from the big glass window.

The next shift, his dad asked you how Sunwoo did when promoting the movie. You didn’t have the heart to tell him he forced you to do the dirty business instead.

Another time, Sunwoo informs you via text in the middle of your shift that you should clean the bathrooms. The fact itself already makes you furious, but you follow the order nonetheless– because, well, what else can you do? You’re used to cleaning the toilets, since it’s a part of your job. It’s just the fact that a guy your age told you to that’s making you rethink all your career decisions.

The trip to the bathrooms quickly turns traumatizing when you step inside of the tiled room and have the door behind you close with a loud bang, followed by the light switching off. Screeching, you jump and try to escape the room with fear making your heart run faster than Usain Bolt, however, you find the door seemingly locked– the sound of Sunwoo’s snarky laugh coming from the other side making you recognise what just happened and how he’s pulling another one of his childish pranks on you again.

When the door finally opens, you throw the toilet brush into his chest and scream out a “I’m going to fucking quit if I see your face one more time!”. You’re over all formalities.

That doesn’t mean you’re not scared every time you enter a room in the cinema when you work with Sunwoo, though. Your reaction was strengthened very abruptly, you see.

Sitting in the ticket booth, door ajar to monitor your surroundings, you plop your head on your hand and glare at Sunwoo, chewing on your gum. If anyone saw you right now, they’d think you were trying to kill him with your stare, but the opposite would actually be the truth tonight– you were quite enjoying the sight of him wiping the sweat off his forehead and scowling at the neverending flow of customers.

The beauty of having ticket booth duty on premiere night is that everyone bought the tickets beforehand already, meaning that it wasn’t usually busy. Scanning the tickets and running the snack booth were the more difficult parts of the shift, and since Mr Kim decided to show up to work today, Sunwoo was graced with the snack booth duty– something that warmed you up from the inside and made you want to kiss your boss’s feet in gratefulness.

There’s just something about seeing Kim Sunwoo in misery that makes your stomach turn and do cartwheels. You’re in love with his pathetic, tired face.

His eyes meet yours when he takes a moment to breathe– the look behind them is pleading, almost embarrassingly hopeless as he internally wishes he was in your place. You think this serves him right for the weeks of torture, and when he becomes you to come over with a motion of his hand, you just shrug at him and bat your eyelashes in faked innocence.

It’s not your fault he’s on duty tonight. What does he want with you?

His lips mouth “Come here,” which makes you battle a satisfied smile. Poor Kim Sunwoo is helpless in his task. The rush just won’t stop and he’s asked of more than he can handle. You kind of feel sadistic when you truly think about your sentiments, but you think you’re only valid for feeding on his misery.

“Help!” he mouths again, and now you truly can’t battle the laughter anymore. His hair is tousled and sticking to his forehead. His uniform is dirty. The tie around his neck is loose. The sight makes you utterly satisfied.

As he mouths “Please,” accompanied by clasped hands and a pleading look that would work on most women, you finally decide to stand up from the uncomfortable chair in the ticket booth and shake your head in disbelief. You can’t even count how many times Sunwoo left you alone in the rush before a premiere, but you can’t really risk his father finding out you didn’t come to rescue his beloved son, since however you might hate this job, you still can’t lose it in your current living conditions.

Sighing and closing the door to the ticket booth after you, your legs take you to the snack stand. Eyes of enthusiastic customers looking almost high on coca cola and the smell of salted popcorn are on you when you finally reach Sunwoo’s side.

“So I’m supposed to help you with your work whenever you ask, but when I’m left cleaning the whole theater completely alone, you can sit around and play on your phone?” you jab, annoyed with the turn of events. You find a spare apron and tie it around your waist, not really wanting to dirty your uniform as you pour caramel into some buckets of popcorn, hearing your companion chuckle next to you.

“Yeah, pretty much.”

“Okay, so I’ll be back in the ticket booth after serving this customer-”

“My dad’s watching.”

“This is blackmailing,” you snap back, smiling ironically at your coworker.

Sunwoo grins at you when he hands two cokes to the teenage girls behind the counter, shrugging to himself. “Not my problem.”

You learned long ago that fighting with Kim Sunwoo is a battle you can never win. Logically, you know you’re always right, but the boy always thinks he should have the last word in everything, which makes ending an argument with him pretty much impossible. That’s why you stopped trying to prove your truth. In your heart, you know how it is, and no amount of snarky remarks from the feisty boy will change your opinion.

You two work alongside each other in silence for some time. You’d even say it’s efficient– you make the popcorn and he makes the nachos, both of you taking turns behind the coca cola machine, and after a few minutes in his proximity when he’s not being the butt of the Earth, your brain starts to question why you two can’t operate like this on a daily basis.

Oh, how foolish of you.

You’re quickly brought back to reality when you walk over with the grande size bucket of popcorn towards the counter, meeting halfway with Kim Sunwoo’s chest.

It takes everything in you not to scream, but the restraint is deleted as soon as you feel something cold dripping down the front of your uniform, your white button-up suddenly sticking towards your chest in a big, dark-brown pool around your waist area. One sharp look into his eyes is everything it takes you two to come to a mutual understanding of what your next action is gonna be– Sunwoo quickly puts the now empty cup of coca cola onto the counter and puts a hand towards his head in self-disappointment.

“Kim Sunwoo, are you fucking incompetent?!” you scream out, the sensation of your cold shirt sticking to your already sweaty skin making you want to crawl out of yourself and scratch your coworker’s eyes out with the claws of the demon he wakes up in you.

“Look, you don’t have to-”

“I just washed this yesterday, there’s a line of people waiting for their snacks up to the fucking front door, you just ruined the popcorn I made so now I have to redo it, and you just decide to spill this onto me?!” you continue with your rampage, not really caring about the eyes of everyone on you, just letting out all your built-up frustration that creeps inside of you every time you see his face.

“As if I did this on purpose…” he grunts as he turns around in his place and reaches for napkins, not really putting much thought into his actions as he presses the material into the damp place sticking to your skin.

The image startles you– Kim Sunwoo almost in physical contact with you, a paper napkin soaking up some of the coca cola flooding the surface of your skin– and as you watch his slender palms run over your front, your eyes falling to the fluffy hair at the crown of his head, you feel heat rushing to your insides, making you jump away from him.

“Sorry-” he mumbles out as you forcefully pry the napkin out of his hand, gritting your teeth.

“I’m starting to think you’re making me do everything just because you’re useless,” you spit at him.

Rolling his eyes, Sunwoo pokes his cheek with the tip of his tongue. “It was an accident.”

“Don’t care,” you grunt, walking away from the booth, “I’m going to change in the back, you better not burn the place down with the popcorn machine before I’m back,” you comment, sending him a sharp glare over your shoulder.

All that accompanies you to the staff room is Sunwoo’s loud sigh and a sugary-sweet tone he offers to one of the customers as he throws the ruined popcorn into the trash. “I’ll be right with you, miss!”

If anyone asked you if you hated your job now, you think you’d say yes.

Who are you kidding?

You’d definitely say yes.

TONIGHT’S PREMIERE – THE HATING GAME (2021)

You were quite pleased on your way to work today. It’s Wednesday, which usually means it’s not as busy. The weather is cloudy– good enough to not make you gloomy, but not quite sunny enough to make you wish you were outside instead of being stuck in the cinema the whole afternoon– and you packed a home-made sandwich with you to eat on your lunch break. Which is whenever, since you’re on ticket booth duty today– another great news.

The best thing about today, though? Kim Sunwoo isn’t working today.

That alone is good enough to make your whole entire day better. The sun shines brighter, your breathing is lighter, the air is clearer and the birds chirp louder when you know you don’t have to interact with the hellspawn that day. It’s like his absence alone is enough to heal all your wounds and delete all your worries– who cares about the fact that you’re barely getting through your Biology class when you know you won’t have to stare at Sunwoo’s face as you contemplate dropping out of university during your shift?

Maybe you should thank him, in a way.

And with all of this knowledge, a smile plastered on your face as you’re prepared to sit through your 5-hour shift in silence with an occasional swipe through your social media and a well deserved chicken-mayo sandwich towards the end of your shift, it’s quite natural for your smile to freeze and your spirit fall the moment you see the mop of dark brown hair walk through the doors of the cinema.

��What the fuck is he doing here?” you mourn as he walks by, only realizing you said the sentence out loud when the boy looks at you with a scowled face, a scoff escaping his throat.

“Didn’t know we were speaking to each other in third person now,” he says as he stops in his tracks and plops his head into the door to your booth, infesting your calm abode with his presence.

Deep breaths. In and out, Y/N. In and out…

“Hello to you too, Y/N,” he smiles, irony dripping off his tongue, “having a good day so far?”

“It was better without you here, thank you,” you snap back, rolling your eyes at him when his eyes flash with something akin to a victory– it seems you both take joy in making the other one absolutely miserable with your presence.

“Sweet,” he nods on his way out, grinning to himself. “Well, I won’t be long, so don’t let your mood drop too much.”

With that, he’s out of the ticket booth. All that’s left behind him is the smell of his cologne– the tingle of lemon and bergamot filling your nostrils in a way that makes the fine hair at the back of your neck stand up all alert– and silence. It makes you wonder about his whereabouts– you can never know… what if he’s setting up a trap for you somewhere? You wouldn’t be half surprised. You make a mental note to yourself to be twice as cautious when going to the bathroom next time. Just to make sure.

Before you’re able to think of any possible situations that Sunwoo could get himself caught in (while completely ignoring the fact that his father is somewhere in his office in the back– for all you know, he might just need to talk to your boss, like a son does sometimes), the woodworm of your thoughts appears in your view again, two rolled-up tubes under his shoulder as he walks over to the front door.

“Wait! What are those?” you ask, eyes zeroing on the very clear posters in his grip. The shiny white back of the big posters you have to sometimes put up in the front of the cinema are unmistakable to anything else.

“Posters,” Sunwoo replies, calling over his shoulder, already halfway out of the building.

“I know what those are–”

“Then why are you asking?” he huffs, shaking his head in disbelief as he takes a few steps towards the ticket booth, eyes meeting yours. His figure fills the door frame as he towers over you, still sitting on the chair. His eyes have a different kind of twinkle in them– you think, no, you know it’s mischief– making the blood in your veins boil at deadly temperatures.

“Because– well,” you huff, already frustrated, “we’re not allowed to take these,” you say, pointing to the two posters under his shoulder like a kid in the candy store. You try to ignore just how embarrassing you must look right in this moment.

“Oh,” he pouts, taking the posters from below his shoulder, unraveling one of them and resting the other one against the doorframe, “so you’re telling me… I can’t take those two amazingly big, shiny, cool posters of the latest Spiderman movie home for me and my friend Juyeon?”

You’re only half-aware of the fact that he’s teasing you right now, sighing at his innocent face. “No, Sunwoo. You can’t.”

“Hm,” he hums, looking at the poster from top to the bottom, seemingly sad about the news, “that’s terrible. Says who?”

“Your… your father, Sunwoo. He told me when I asked him the other day if I could take–”

“You wanted to take posters home from the cinema?” he gasps, looking at you with big eyes. He looks stupid. So, terribly stupid. Dumb. No thought behind his eyes. You want to smash his head against a concrete wall.

…He’s teasing you. It finally dawns on you.

Now, you want to smash your head against a concrete wall.

Still, you admit defeat with a solemn tone in your voice. “Well, I really wanted the Enola Holmes poster to put up in my bedroom…” you mumble.

“And my dad said no?” he asks, eyebrows quirking up towards his hairline.

“Yes, Sunwoo. Your father said it’s prohibited to take posters home from the cinema, that’s exactly why I’m stopping you right now,” you say, tone filled with annoyance. You know he’s enjoying your face full of misery. But still, if there’s one thing you’re good at, it’s following the rules and orders– if Mr Kim says you can’t take the posters home, you’ll go in the back and tear them into pieces before throwing them into the bin like you’re told to.

If things were going your way, you’d advise Sunwoo to do the same.

A day with Kim Sunwoo in it never goes your way, though. You should’ve been prepared.

“So I can’t take those posters home because my dad said no?” he clarifies, looking like a dummy. Like one of those kids that ask the most obvious questions during exams. Like one of those kids you want to sucker punch in the face.

“Sunwoo–”

“Well, Y/N-ie,” he purrs, the nickname making your hands curl up in fists, “that’s too bad… because I am the owner’s son, so… the rules don’t really apply to me, you see.”

And with that, he sends another sickeningly sweet smile your way before he turns on his heel and marches towards the front door again– not responding to any of your annoyed, infuriated calls of his name. He doesn’t stop at your warnings. He doesn’t care.

And just like that, he disappears just as fast as he appeared. The interaction didn’t last more than 10 minutes, but you consider your whole day ruined.

Fucking Sunwoo and his fucking privileges. And his fucking annoying face.

It’s not even that important. It’s just two posters that would get thrown out to the dumpster in the back at the end of your shift anyway. You don’t even care about those posters in particular– you just with equal rules applied to all workers in the workplace.

It’s not like Spiderman Homecoming is one of your favorite movies… not at all.

You could’ve had that poster. You deserved that poster. You sold tickets for it and served the snack booth when it premiered– not Kim Sunwoo and whatever his friend’s name was.

You kick the wall with your sneaker. It leaves a dirty mark.

You should’ve known the day felt too good to be true.

TONIGHT’S PREMIERE – MUCH ADO ABOUT NOTHING (1993)

There’s a new thing Mr Kim is trying to lure more customers into the cinema. He calls it ‘Rewind Thursdays’, where he picks a movie from the past and airs it in the theater again to bring out nostalgia in the whole town. You think it’s a good idea– you remember when the Harry Potter movies had a rerun back when you were little, ecstatic that you finally got to see them in the cinema because you missed out on the experience when they were coming out for the first time. You went even though you saw them all before, and you had a blast. So in your books, this was the best thing that could happen to the little, old movie theater on the corner of the town’s square.

You were overbeared with joy when Mr Kim went up to you during one of your slow Wednesday shifts in the ticket booth with a paper and a pen, requesting you to write down your favorite movies. He informed you that he’d prefer it if they were older, to, quote, really get the nostalgia going, and you were happy to have some say in the list of movies to play for multiple reasons. One, because it meant he valued your opinion, and two, you don’t usually work on Thursdays, so if your favorite movie is on that day, you can go and relax in the cinema while watching it.

This all happened a few weeks ago. You gave the list back to your boss at the end of your shift, smiling brightly just thinking about it, and he told you he’ll get through it and see what he can incorporate.

The plan gets to you on one uneventful Wednesday. You are stuck in the ticket booth again. Today is one of the Wednesdays where Sunwoo is in charge, because Mr Kim is out of town. You hate those days most of them all, but recently, he’s been giving you your freedom and letting you work in the ticket booth instead of cleaning the already clean cinema, saying he has stuff to do in the back. You suspect he just sits around in his father’s office with his legs on the table, chewing on his obnoxious strawberry mints. The image makes you furious only the tiniest bit, because the fact that he’s out of your sight and isn’t ordering you around is enough to calm your nerves. It could always be worse, you remind yourself. It could always be worse.

“I have the schedule of ‘Rerun Thursdays’ all done,” Sunwoo says as he walks up to the ticket booth close to the end of your shift. His eyes look a little tired when he holds up a thick card to you, the design of the poster making your eyebrows shoot up in surprise. Did he do that?

“It’s ‘Rewind Thursdays’, actually,” you note, pointing towards the very obvious mistake on the top of the poster.

“Oh fuck– you know what, not anymore,” he scowls, taking the poster back from you and pointing glares at the title he mistyped, “I spent 3 hours on this, I’m not remaking it.”

“It looks like a kindergartener did it,” you note, eyes scanning the bubbly font and the orange-yellow combination used throughout the whole design when he offers the paper back to you. It looks like a Winnie the Pooh convention is taking place instead of an event full of nostalgic movies, and you would tell him that, but he beats you to it with a tired remark.

“Well, if my father wanted this to look professional, he should’ve hired someone to do it,” he mutters, obviously hurt by your harsh words, “I used Canva. I don’t know how Photoshop works and my dad can barely operate the computer, so this is what we’re going with, okay?” he says as he explains, big eyes suddenly bearing into yours. “Unless you wanna redo it yourself…?”

“Absolutely not.”

“Then this is the final poster,” he says, “I’m gonna hang those outside when we close,” he notes, watching you scan the movie titles. The event will take place in 4 weeks from the middle of November to the middle of December (right in time for Christmas movies to air, since you’re certain Mr Kim has another Christmas-themed business tactic up his sleeve).

“Did any of your movies make it?” Sunwoo asks, surprisingly friendly. You can’t remember a single casual conversation with the male– all you two do it either give each other the silent treatment or scream at each other (more like you scream at him, but he always deserves it…), so you’re kind of surprised at the change. Not pleasantly surprised. Just surprised.

Eyes falling to the second movie on the list, you feel yourself nodding as you smile. It’s like a dream come true– you can finally see your favorite movie in the cinema for the first time. You don’t know who to thank for this miracle, but something in your insides feels very grateful.

“Yeah,” you say, trying to seem unaffected. You’d rather kill yourself than to show any signs of emotion in front of Kim Sunwoo. All he deserves to see is your stone cold face.

“Which one?” he asks, seemingly interested.

“National treasure,” you hum, pointing to the movie on the list, having Sunwoo nod to himself. You expect him to say something to you– perhaps engage in a conversation like a normal person would– but suddenly, he gasps and takes out a folded piece of paper from his back pocket, offering it to you and playing the role of the manager again.

“Oh, by the way,” he starts, watching as you unfold the paper, “I know we don’t usually work on Thursdays, but since my dad decided to do all of this, we kinda have to, since he wouldn’t be able to handle the premieres on his own, so… Here's your schedule for the next 4 weeks,” he says, clasping his hands together in front of him.

It takes everything in you to not correct the male and tell him that those are technically not premieres, but when your eyes land on the little Excel table Sunwoo printed out for you, the feeling is overpowered with one of deep disappointment.

“I work the second week?” you ask, as if the question might magically change the schedule.

“I mean, I think you can read…” Sunwoo hums, shrugging to himself.

A heartbeat passes by of you staring at the schedule, a pit opening in your stomach at the realization. You only work 2 Thursdays out of 4, noticing the fact that you rotate with Sunwoo (with him somehow taking the first week, much to your surprise), but for some reason, one of those days had to be the day when National treasure is on.

And sure, you might think this is good– you can just watch the movie while you work!

Wrong.

Working means either staying in the ticket booth the whole time in case a customer comes, working the snack booth the whole time in case a customer comes, or cleaning the bathrooms. Working means also standing in front of the screening room sometimes, making sure no one is going in without a ticket in the middle of the movie.

There is no time for you to watch National treasure if you’re working.

Sighing, you decide to do something you always prohibited yourself from doing– you ask Kim Sunwoo for a favor. “Listen… my favorite movie is airing the week I work, so I was… wondering if we could exchange shifts? So I could go and watch it?” you ask, looking at your coworker with what you presume are pleading eyes. You hope it works on the boy– he looks like the type to fold under a tender gaze.

“So you want to get out of work only to still come?” Sunwoo clarifies, snickering.

“Pretty much, yeah,” you nod, tapping your fingers on the table.

“Well, the schedule is set,” Sunwoo shrugs, “I can’t do anything about it.”

Eyes sending darts to the very middle of Kim Sunwoo’s forehead, you take a few calming breaths before you speak up again. You don’t want to blow up on him when you’re asking him for a favor– you don’t think this approach would help you much in the situation.

“Why?”

“Because,” he shrugs.

“Because?” you repeat. “That’s the reason?” you say, a weak laugh dragging out of your throat.

“Pretty much, yeah,” he mirrors your previous response, the blood in your veins already growing hot from the confrontation.

“Sunwoo, you– come on,” you say, “just this once, please? I’ll take the first week. We can just switch, what’s the difference?”

Sunwoo tongues the inside of his cheek, eyes pointing towards the paper. “Schedule is schedule, Y/N. You have to follow it,” he says, an innocent look glazing his big fuckass boba eyes. Oh how you despise that look. It’s the look that tells you he finds this all so, so amusing, but won’t laugh in your face in hopes of teasing you some more.

“Oh, amazing,” you say, throwing the schedule to the table, “I knew I could always count on you ruining my day, Kim Sunwoo. And I bet you did the schedule as well! You knew it was my favorite movie, so you made me work that week. Very nice of you, you dumbass. Thank you very much,” you grunt, annoyance flowing through your brain and making you truly merciless– you have no proof of Sunwoo even knowing which movie of yours made it in, or proof of him making the schedule– you don’t care, though. All you want at this moment is to claw his eyes out and pop them in between your fingers to ease the anger on your insides.

You can’t do that, though, so a screaming match will have to do the job.

“Stop being so dramatic,” he scoffs, eyebrows furrowing. “I didn’t even know which one your favorite movie was, so how could I do this on purpose? Plus, I didn’t even make the schedule, my dad did–”

“As if I would believe that,” you roll your eyes, huffing. “You’re all owner’s son privileges this, owner’s son privileges that, but when I ask you for one thing, one! Single! Fucking! Thing! You can’t do it,” you bite, words dripping in spite.

“Look, I really can’t-”

“You can’t do this one thing for me?” you cut him off, the question sounding like an ultimatum.

“No,” he shakes his head, seemingly unaffected by the conversation.

“Because…?” you demand a valid reason.

“Because I just can’t,” he shrugs, casual and cool.

The world stills for a moment. You calculate your next move. Blood rushes in your ears, you see red. Your eyes fall on the clock– it’s 4 minutes after your shift. That’s it.

You take your coat draped over the chair, stand up from the chair and dash towards the front door. You can’t stand being around this man any longer– all he does is bring misery into your otherwise, already boring life.

Speedwalking out of the place, you yell out a harsh “Go fuck yourself!” over your shoulder, leaving Sunwoo to close the cinema by himself. You don’t even change out of your uniform before you go– your head is too clouded with anger to remember to do so. Cursing out your coworker isn’t the best thing you could do in this situation, more so when he’s the owner’s son, but suddenly, you don’t really care about losing your job at the cinema anymore.

Maybe you should quit yourself, actually.

TONIGHT’S PREMIERE – HOW TO LOSE A GUY IN 10 DAYS (2003)

In your books, there aren’t many things worse than working three days in a row. You can only think of so many even when you try hard enough: like going to school in your pajamas, getting sick on the day of an important event, ripping your pants on the metro, standing outside of the cinema in a popcorn costume for 4 hours…

Yeah. Not too many.

So naturally, on the third day of your work week, putting one sweetened coffee into your stomach after another, barely keeping your head up from the lack of sleep you’re getting in between classes, work, and writing your essays until 3 in the morning, you beg god for a calm shift. It’s Wednesday, the first week of Mr Kim’s ‘Rewind Thursdays’ event, and it just so happened that you were set to work the first half of the week while Sunwoo got the other half.

The only thing keeping you going is the fact that you and Sunwoo will now basically not see each other’s face for the next four weeks– with the exception of Fridays and Saturdays, the premiere days. You’re getting a lot of shifts this month, but hey… Christmas is coming. At least you’ll have plenty of money to buy gifts for everyone this year. (Or not. You’re very underpaid.)

Entertaining yourself by watching the world outside of your window and mentally betting on the race of raindrops falling down the glass surface– because your phone battery almost ran out during class this morning and you forgot to bring your charger with you– you hope you don’t fall asleep right in this moment. Your boss is somewhere inside and if he oh just happens to check up on you (which he never normally does, but you can never be too sure), you’re certain you’d lose your job after taking a nap in the ticket booth. Some things just can’t be accepted.

Cat fights with his son? Perfectly acceptable. Sleeping on the clock? Not so much…

Eyes drooping when the third raindrop race doesn’t go the way you bet on in your head, you figure you can just rest for a second or two… Eyelids shielding your irises from the orange hues of the lights inside, your brain already turning off and preparing a happy dream for you, you think that taking a nap is not such a bad idea right now…

Wrong.

“Good morning, sleeping beauty,” the noise of a thunder– actually, no, that was just someone’s voice– wakes you up and makes you jump in your chair, your knee hitting the bottom of the table making you hiss in sharp pain.

“Fuck, man–”

“Didn’t know taking a nap was in the job description,” Sunwoo grins at you through the glass window of the booth. His eyes twinkle in amusement as you drag your hand through your hair, trying to smoothe it down after tousling it in your weird sleeping position.

“I wasn’t sleeping,” you mutter, not even meeting his eye.

“Oh?”

“Yeah… just had… my eyes closed…” you hum, scratching the back of your neck. Clearing your throat, you look back up at him with an disinterested look on your face. “Anyways, what do you want? You’re off today.”

Scanning his figure, fully taking in his appearance– the fabric of his dark gray hoodie a little stained with raindrops (you bet he ran from his car into the building without an umbrella. He seems like the type to be embarrassed about umbrellas.), the fabric of the garment enveloping his head and shading his face a little from the ugly yellow lights. His face is a little flushed– you presume it’s from the running– and his hair is falling into his face. You can barely see his eyes behind the curtain of chocolate locks– he really needs a trim.

“Damn, didn’t know you hated me so much that you can’t stand seeing me on my off days,” he jokes, leaning on the counter as if to stick his face as close as he can into yours. Thank god for the glass shielding you two– you think you’d give him a fist to the nose if you ever felt his breathing on your skin.

“I do,” you agree, impatiently drumming your fingers on the top of the table, “so tell me what you want so you can disappear again,” you say.

“I just went to check up on whether you were sleeping or not so I can tell my dad to fire you–”

“Kim Sunwoo–”

He puts his arms up defensively, eyebrows raising at your threatening tone. “Okay, not really. I don’t actually care that much. Besides, you promised to quit yourself anyway, so,” he explains, shrugging to himself, “believe it or not, I’m here to buy tickets for a movie.”

You shoot him a stare, the look in your eyes dead, stone cold as you ponder on his words. It’s cold outside, it’s raining, and Kim Sunwoo just happens to decide to buy tickets for a movie today. In a cinema that he works at. In a cinema that he works at tomorrow.

“You work tomorrow…?” you mirror your inner monologue, kind of confused at the turn of events.

“You know my schedule? I’m flattered–”

The irritation is slowly creeping into your bones again. Actually, it has been since he arrived, but the more he talks, the more agitating the whole encounter feels. Maybe you should tape his mouth shut the next time you see him– you bet the day would be so much better if you don’t have to listen to him talk.

“Why don’t you just buy the tickets tomorrow when you work? Didn’t have to walk here in the rain,” you explain, sighing to prove just how annoyed you are with his presence.

“Because I kinda need them today,” he says, clarifying to you with the tone you use when you explain mundane things to a child.

You don’t know what he did in his past life to get the ability to annoy you each and every time you meet him, but you’d like some of it to get back at him in your next life. Why you’re even thinking of past lives and the possibility of meeting Kim Sunwoo in your next one, you’re not really certain, but if it helps you to not smash the glass separating you two, you guess you can get behind the thought process.

“Okay,” you nod, painfully calm for the amount of screaming you’ve been doing internally, “what movie?” you ask, turning your body to the computer on your right and breaking eye contact with him. If he’s a customer, you’re going to treat him like one– no small talk and no arguments. You won’t ruin your day even more over a man that doesn’t know what chapstick is. (You don’t stare at his lips, just for the record. It’s just painfully obvious when he talks. Sometimes you want to reach over and pluck away the dead skin with your fingers– you won’t, though. That would be weird.)

Sunwoo straightens his back as he fishes for his wallet in the front pocket of his jeans. “National Treasure,” he smiles, making you break into cold sweat, “two tickets, please.”

Like a scene in a horror movie, your head turns without moving the rest of your body, eyes twitching when you see him standing at the other side of the booth, calm and collected. Suddenly, the scene makes sense– he bought the tickets to see your favorite movie on the day of your shift. Of course. He just has to rub it in your face.

Not only are you working that day. You will also most likely serve popcorn to him as he goes inside with whoever he is buying the second ticket for. And you will try not to trip him on his way inside the screening room.

It was a smart move for him to not go inside the ticket booth with you, even though he has all the right to. You bet he knows you’d claw his eyes out if you had the chance.

“You have to be kidding me.”

“What? I can’t buy tickets for a movie?” he asks, innocence dripping off his tongue.

Breathing deeply– while trying to contain the demon that’s begging to crawl out of your insides and tear him into 25 different pieces– you smile ironically at the male, gulping before you speak. “That would be 12 dollars, please,” you say, your customer service voice turning kind of eerie.

Not even letting the male choose his seats– he lost the privilege when he decided to come and buy the tickets for your favorite movie– you print out two tickets with the worst possible view (the ones in the first row, far right. If Sunwoo loses his neck because he has to look up at the screen for the entirety of the movie, well, who are you to hate that) and offer them to your coworker.

Like a mind game, the male slips them into his pocket without even looking at them, not breaking eye contact with you sitting behind the booth.

“Have a nice day,” he says as he takes two steps back before fully turning and escaping through the front door, figure dashing towards the old Prius parked in front of the building.

Bawling your hands into fists, you try the breathing exercises you found the other week. Calm your body and your mind, the title said. You knew you’d need those when you saved the post into one of your boards on Pinterest.

Still, you can’t help yourself. You simply cannot. You let it out– it’s not healthy to keep negativity inside.

He can’t hear you, but you still mutter a spiteful “I hope you choke,” under your breath as you settle back into the uncomfortable surface of the chair.

TONIGHT’S PREMIERE – YOU’VE GOT MAIL (1998)

Remember the time you said you didn’t really mind having more shifts in November, because it meant a bigger paycheck? Yeah… that was true. For a few days.

Until you got a phone call one day from none other than Kim Sunwoo– whose number you didn’t even want to save into your contacts, but after his insisting that it’s for work purposes, did so under the name ‘dumpster raccoon’– telling you that you have to get to work immediately, that his dad said so, and that it’s an emergency.

Do you believe him? No. Absolutely not.

His tone of voice was too calm to be in an emergency. If his dad wanted you to come to work today, he could’ve called you himself instead of making his son do it. And also, you really don’t know what’s so important to take care of on a Wednesday, since it’s the slow day of the week, but still– you angrily took off the facemask from your face before the timer even went off, shut your laptop with a half-watched episode of The office in your Netflix window, changed out of your comfy clothes and marched towards the cinema.

Because you never know. He might be saying the truth, after all. And if that was the case, you didn’t want to be caught disobeying your boss.

You get to the old movie theater on the corner of the town center at 4 in the afternoon. The sky is already getting dark and you feel the coldness of November seeping into your bones, and so you waste no time in getting inside and chasing the heat of the vintage-looking interior. Your boots make a thudding sound as you walk across the hall, seeing Sunwoo sitting in the ticket booth in his usual habitat: with his phone in his hands and his feet up on the table, chewing on his favorite strawberry mints. Now this sight screams emergency if you’ve ever seen one.

“What was so important for you to call me to work and then chill in the ticket booth all afternoon?” you ask, spite slipping off your tongue with every word you speak.

Sunwoo looks up at you from under his eyelashes, hair still slightly shielding his eyes. He doesn’t even have his uniform on– there’s a gray hoodie enveloping his torso (you swear he lives in this garment. You wonder if he even washes it sometimes) and black jeans hanging off his hips– and the more you stare at him, the more you feel like punching him in the face.

“Oh,” he hums, stretching out his limbs from the hours of sitting on the chair unmoving, “dad said to tell you to clean the screening room. Since it’s Thursday tomorrow, and all.”

The look on his face is innocent. He looks like he just told you the most casual piece of information– and truth be told, he kind of did. The whole thing is just not making any sense right now.

“I should clean the screening room today? You’re on the clock, though, why don’t you do it?” you ask, frustration clearly written all over your face. You were looking forward to having a self-care day today, so you can only imagine how tired of his endeavors you are right in this moment.

“Yeah, but I am on ticket booth duty, so I can’t,” he shrugs, frowning a little to prove his nonexistent point.

“It’s Wednesday. It’s not busy. You know you can do both.”

“Look, it’s not me, it’s my dad–”

“Is it? Is it, Sunwoo?” you huff, arms flying into the air. “Or are you just using me to do the work you don’t feel like doing? Because it really does seem like that right now,” you bite, running your hand through your hair in exasperation.

“Do you want me to call him?” Sunwoo asks, tone of voice suddenly threatening.

A heartbeat passes. You continue to have a staring contest with him. The fury inside of you rages like a storm. Still, you nod to the feeling of authority coming from your actual boss, and so you wordlessly turn on your heel and march towards the screening room, ready to clean the place in the least amount of time so you can go home and back to your selfcare endeavors. (You’re adding printing out Sunwoo’s face and throwing darts at it to the list of activities. You think you really need that right now.)

The screening room is dark when you come inside, and as you reach towards the lightswitch, you almost fear something jumping at you. See, the traumatic response from being locked up in the toilet from your coworker is still very present in your bones. When you stop working here, you’re going to ask for financial compensation for all the damage this boy did on your mental health.

You walk down the aisle of seats and try to inspect the damage. No movies air on Wednesday and there was only one kids movie going on Tuesday, so you can either expect it to be almost clean, or full of snacks that fell off the hands of grabby children during the cartoon. The more you inspect the place, though, the more it seems like… somebody already cleaned it before?

The floor is clean. The laminated surface under the seats has no smudge of dirt on it, like someone already mopped the place. And when you think back, the bins were empty as well.

The screening room was definitely cleaned before.

Which means that Sunwoo brought you here for absolutely nothing.

Suddenly, the lights go out. The whole room falls into darkness, and the anger inside of your veins very quickly mixes with panic as you try to climb up the stairs on the side of the screening room and escape. Your throat gets dry as you yell for your coworker, not really caring if your next outburst is going to get you fired or not.

“Kim Fucking Sunwoo, why the fuck did you call me to clean an already cleaned screening room?!” you yell, not really knowing if he hears you or not. Doesn’t matter– it feels cathartic to do so anyway.

Your feet stumble on the awkwardly-long stairs, your figure almost falling to the ground. Managing to hold yourself up and steady your body before your head hits the sharp corner of one of the stairs and makes you die, you continue on with your small tangent. “You really think this is funny? You’re having fun pranking me all the time? I hate your guts, Kim Sunwoo, and I hope you burn in hell!”

A bright light suddenly illuminates the screening room, coming from somewhere behind you. When you look over your shoulder, the screen is white for a few moments before the opening credits of a Jerry Buckheimer film flash on the big surface, halting you in your movements. The sound is a little too loud in the speakers, but it gets adjusted the moment you almost lose your hearing. The moment you see Nicolas Cage appear, it’s clear as day.

There’s a movie playing. And the movie playing is National treasure.

You think you’re hallucinating. This is surely a fata morgana.

Standing in the middle of the screening room, your mouth hangs agape and your eyes go wide as you watch the first few scenes of the movie. Ben Gates already learns about the hidden treasure passed down through American history when you feel a slight nudge to your shoulder, making you turn your head to see a tall figure staring you down with a bucket of popcorn in their hands.

You are confused. So utterly confused. The movie was on last week. You’d know– you worked the snack booth that day. The screening room is empty and it’s Wednesday– what’s going on?

“Can you sit? Or are you just going to watch the movie standing in the aisle,” Sunwoo grunts, balancing the big bucket of popcorn and two drinks in his large hands, the sight comical and almost making you want to watch him suffer some more.

Caught off guard, though, you let him back you into the aisle of seats, your figure slouching into one of the red cushions like a rag doll. Sunwoo takes place next to you, placing the big bucket of popcorn into your lap, before he settles into a seat as well and focuses his eyes and attention on the movie.

“What… what is this?” you ask, frozen in the seat.

“Hm?” Sunwoo frowns, looking at you. “National treasure,” he hums, “I thought you’d know, since you threw a scene about it that one time.”

“I- I know that, I just…” you trail off, still surprised at the turn of events, “what’s going on right now…?”

“We’re watching National treasure,” he notes, talking to you as if you were slow.

“What…?”

A sigh escapes Sunwoo’s lips at your utter confusion, his hand coming up to the bucket of popcorn in your lap and throwing a handful of the snack into his mouth before speaking. “Look, Y/N. You said you wanted to watch your favorite movie in the cinema, so that’s what you’re doing. Enjoy my owner’s son privileges for once,” he shrugs, watching as your face morphs into an unreadable expression.

That explanation satisfies you for a bit. The shock in your insides, though? Still present.

There’s something about the whole gesture that makes your stomach feel uneasy. Sunwoo did something nice for you– out of the kindness of his own heart– and you really don’t know why he would even think of something like this. You two aren’t on the best terms either, after all. Maybe he finally went crazy.

Or maybe you did and this was all the result of your imagination. Either or.

Yeah, you must be the one that’s gone batshit insane. Surely. You’re certain of the fact when you reach for the popcorn and accidentally touch his hand, the two of you deciding to get some at the same time, and your stomach does a flip and your brain makes a sign for you to quickly retract your hand– but the feeling of his slightly cold hand against your fingertips is now engraved into your memory and won’t leave and let you focus on the movie no matter how hard you try.

“You wouldn’t have to do this if you just let me switch schedules with you that time,” you note, “just saying.”

“I couldn’t,” he shrugs.

“Huh? But you bought two tickets..?”

“Yeah, but those were for my friends. I had to drive my mum down to grandmas that day, so I couldn’t go or take your shift that day,” he hums, not once breaking eye contact with the screen.

“If you would’ve just said so, I wouldn’t have made a scene about it–”

“Yeah… but I enjoy watching you make a scene,” he grins, shifting his attention towards you for a second with that lazy smirk playing with his lips. His hair is falling into his eyes and you have the urge to get it out of his face with a motion of your hand while also scolding him like a mother to finally get a haircut, just so you could see the twinkle in his mischievous orbs.

“You need to get serious help, then,” you grunt, pointing your gaze back towards the screen, unable to look at his face for any longer. He’s being annoying again. You’re annoyed.

“Probably,” he admits.

You two sit in silence for a while, the only sound accompanying you being the movie playing out on the big screen in front of you. You think this is the calmest you two have ever been around each other, and you’re starting to think that if Sunwoo just didn’t talk, you two could even get along.

Something touches the side of your thigh in the darkness of the room. Eyes darting to the source, you notice Sunwoo’s thigh pressing against yours, the cause of his obnoxious man-spreading, and something about the closeness of his body and the smell of his citrusy cologne makes you feel like your chest is heaving in on itself. You can’t stand him around you. You two can’t share this close of a space.

“Are you not leaving?” you ask.

“No,” he hums, “should I be?”

“Well, you’re on the clock…”

The man snickers, shaking his head in disbelief. “Y/N, you and I both know that the possibility of someone coming to buy a ticket on a Wednesday afternoon is close to zero. Me being there makes no difference in today’s sales.”

His hand knocks into yours again as you reach for more popcorn. You gulp, nodding. “Right…”

“And I wanted to see the movie to see if it’s really that good to make a scene about it,” he teases, another playful look sent your way from the corner of his eye.

You grunt, rolling your eyes. Oh how you hate his guts…

And even though you love the movie, you pray for it to end quickly. The more time you spend with Sunwoo forced into your zone of comfort, the more uncomfortable you feel– even the slightest movement of his body affects you and makes your brain turn on overdrive. It’s strange and it’s weird, and you don’t understand how hatred for a person could manifest in such reactions.

It’s better that you didn’t notice you two sitting in the love seat. God knows you wouldn’t handle that well. You’d rather die than to hold on to that knowledge.

TONIGHT’S PREMIERE – CLUELESS (1995)

They say that you only start realizing just how stupid people can be when you work in customer service. As one of the only three employees of the small, vintage cinema on the corner of the town’s square, you can only agree with the sentiment– you have a lot of stories to tell about the wonders of the human brain.

Like that one time you got screamed at because the movie tickets were ‘too expensive’ – because naturally, you should be able to change the price of them when asked. Or that one time you got screamed at because the movie tickets were sold out– because naturally, you should add more seats to the screening room just for the two middle-aged women to sit on during the premiere of the newest Orlando Bloom movie. Or when somebody yelled at you for the toilets being full after the movie– naturally, you are supposed to throw people out in the middle of them peeing. Or build new stalls. Either or.

They say that you only start realizing just how stupid people can be when you work in customer service, but truly, you also realize just how rude they can also be for no reason at all.

Much like today. It’s Friday, which means it’s premiere night. The tickets to all movies this week are sold out already, so no one is on ticket booth duty, and much to your relief, Mr Kim took the snack stand himself. Your responsibility for the day is scanning the tickets and then making sure no one is getting inside during the movie without a ticket.

It’s not a hard job. Not at all– you would even say nothing about working in the cinema is hard, when you don’t have an annoying coworker trying to make your whole life a living hell– but you see, customers love to make your job harder just by being unreasonably rude about things that are clearly out of your control.

“Sir, I really can’t let you in, I’m sorry,” you say, tone of voice polite despite screaming on the inside. In front of you is standing a tall man, maybe a few years older than you, the expression on his face full of anger and vexation. They say a customer is always right. You agree only when the customer looks like they could wait for you after work and beat you up in the bushes. Sadly, that still doesn’t mean you can let the man inside without a valid ticket.

“What do you mean? Little one, I’m telling you I bought the ticket here, so if you don’t let me in–”

“All tickets purchased for the screening should be able to scan through this, sir, and if it doesn’t work, I am not allowed to let you inside of the cinema,” you try to explain, getting kind of desperate. The line behind him was forming and the movie was supposed to play in a few minutes, so if you wanted to scan all the tickets in time, you had to be quick.

He wouldn’t budge, though. His eyebrows are furrowed and the guy behind him seems to be getting angry as well, making the hair on the back of your neck stand up alert, like a cat when it senses danger. You try your hardest to keep your tone firm, hands clasped politely behind your back. “I’m gonna have to ask you to leave, sir, or maybe check in with the owner about the issue? I don’t have the competence to–”

“Listen, I won’t be talking to anyone, because you will let me in, okay?”

“Sir, I can’t-”

Your sentence is cut off by the man again, his fury making you take a step backwards in fear. “And if you don’t, you will see the consequences.”

Gulping, you try to think of a way to get out of this situation. Mr Kim is too far away for you to call, and he is also busy– the line is long and Sunwoo isn’t working today. It’s just the two of you today, so your options are getting slimmer. You can’t let that man in without a working ticket– it seems like the one he’s showing you is either a fake one, or bought in another cinema– but it seems like if you don’t, he’ll have you dead before the next morning.

“So?”

Opening your mouth to answer (although your brain is still empty and you don’t even know what more to say), a low voice coming from behind you startles you in the middle of your crisis. “Is there a problem here?”

Turning your head to the source of the voice, you’ve never been more relieved to see Kim Sunwoo in your close proximity. You watch as he puts a rolled-up poster to the ground behind you before he takes another step closer towards your figure, his expression stone cold and glaring at the man in front of you.

“Your coworker here won’t let me in to watch the movie,” he complains, hand waving around in a threatening way.

Just having Sunwoo around makes you more confident. Clearing your throat, your eyes dart to your coworker, seeing his face morph into irritation. “It won’t scan his ticket, so…”

“If it won’t scan your ticket, it means it’s invalid and we’re not allowed to let you in,” Sunwoo says, tone of voice way less polite than the one you were using before.

“That’s ridiculous-”

“You are ridiculous,” Sunwoo grunts, annoyance clearly written all over his face. “You were asked to leave, so maybe you should.”

Truth be told, you’ve been in a couple of arguments with Sunwoo before. In none of them has he ever looked and sounded like this, though. You and Sunwoo argue with spite– sparks flying waiting to start a fire, curses and harsh words thrown around carelessly in moments of heated hatred. His tone is stern, but never threatening. Never mean. Not in the way he’s being right now.

It makes you stare at him wordlessly. He seems to be taking the lead in the situation, reacting territorially to the man in front of him. You can’t say you don’t feel safer with him around– you would be lying.

“Maybe you could just let me in and get this over with–”

“And maybe you could fuck off,” Sunwoo says back, something in his tone making your stomach feel all light. He looks serious, standing his ground, and the man finally seems to get the memo that he’s not watching the premiere tonight, because he backs off and grits his teeth at the male.

“Your boss will hear about this,” he threatens, making Sunwoo chuckle.

“I’m sure he will.”

Sympathetic looks are thrown your way from the women in the line behind that can finally come up to you so you scan their tickets. You smile at each one and try to seem unaffected by the exchange, but the memory of it still lingers in your brain and doesn’t make you rest easy as you greet the rest of the customers.

You didn’t even realize Sunwoo was still standing next to you, watching you work. He seems to recognise your shaken-up composure, tone of voice sympathetic and quiet as he asks: “You okay?”

“What?” you ask, surprised by the question, “oh. Yeah, I’m fine. He was just… being a bitch, the usual.”

“Yeah,” he snickers, “why didn’t you just scream at him like you do to me? I bet that would scare him away,” he notes, making you roll your eyes at the comment.

“Because he looked like he could beat me up, Sunwoo.”

“And I don’t?” he gasps, suddenly offended.

You scan the boy up and down, pretending to think it over for a few before you shake your head. “No,” you shrug, “I could beat you up.”

“Excuse you?” he gasps, crossing his arms at his chest in a defensive stance, the shock on his face mixing in with amusement.

“Don’t believe me? Wanna try?” you test, the conversation suddenly flowing freely, without you even noticing. You don’t pay it much thought, but you guess getting along with Sunwoo is easier when he’s on your side. Most of the time, he’s not, though– and maybe that’s the problem.

“Okay,” he nods, “meet me in the back when you’re off. No weapons allowed, we’ll do it the street style. This is a battle of fists,” he points a finger at you, the sentence making you sigh dreamily and point your eyes towards the ceiling.

“You can’t even imagine how long I’ve been waiting for this moment.”

Sunwoo smiles at that– that dumb, boyish smile you usually so despise– and shakes his head at your antics. The conversation dies down a bit after the exchange– with you scanning the tickets and trying your hardest to make it through the line before the movie starts, when your coworker, dressed in none other than his signature gray hoodie and black jeans, nudges you with his elbow. “Want me to stay for a bit, or are you good now?”

“I can take care of myself, Sunwoo,” you sigh, “you can go about your day.”

“Well, it didn’t seem like it a few minutes ago–”

“I can take care of myself when I’m not confronted with a tall muscled man that is threatening me, Sunwoo,” you repeat, looking at the rest of the line, “so with him gone now, you can go about your day. What are you even doing here, by the way? I thought you were off today.”

“I am,” he nods, rocking a little in his place, shifting weight from his heels towards his toes, “I was just… here to drop off something for you,” he says, clearing his throat and pointing towards the poster he was holding when he first approached you, the shiny tube now resting against the nearest wall.

You shoot the boy a curious look, eyebrows furrowed in question. You don’t get to ask for clarification about the character of the poster, because he abruptly cuts off your train of thought, speaking fast as if to avoid making any more conversation with you. “I’ll see you in the back after you’re done for that fist fight, then. Bye!”

And before you get a chance to say anything back, Sunwoo swiftly turns on his heel and awkwardly marches towards the front door. You don’t have much time to inspect the thing he dropped off for you, but after you’re done with scanning the tickets and have time to breathe when the movie starts, you allow yourself to peek inside–

only to see a National treasure poster staring back at you, surface glossy and glimmering, as if you just opened a chest full of gold.

As you take the poster to the staff room with you (while also wearing a huge, embarrassing grin on your face for someone staring at the face of Nicolas Cage), making sure it’s safe and sound until you can bring it home with you, you wonder why you haven’t been civil with Kim Sunwoo before.

It’s good to have a taste of his owner’s son privileges sometimes.

TONIGHT’S PREMIERE – ME BEFORE YOU (2016)

The day is Friday, the 1st of December. Mr Kim’s ‘Rewind Thursdays' event is over and while Fridays are always the premiere days, meaning you usually have to work the evenings either in the snack booth or in the ticket booth, your boss told you you can have the night off under one condition– you come in the morning (since you told him your classes are done for the semester, he’s been keen on making you work at random times of the day) and help Sunwoo with Christmas decorations in the cinema.

And, well, who are you to say no to a free evening? Maybe you can finally have that self-care time you’ve been needing before your exam season starts.

“Can you get the ladder from the back?” Sunwoo asks, tone of voice not at all interested. You don’t know what the reasoning behind his mood is, but you figure it’s either the fact that he had to get up before 12, or the fact that he doesn’t really seem like the type to like decorating.

“Why don’t you get it?” you huff, wiping your forehead off the sweat that’s cumulated on it over the time you spent bringing out all the boxes full of decorations out of the staff room. “I brought everything in, maybe you can do some work for once.”

One would think your dynamics with Kim Sunwoo would shift after he’s been nice to you on multiple occasions. And sure, you don’t really fight with him as often and he hasn’t pulled a prank on you in a while, but some days, his whole presence is still just as annoying to you as it’s been for the past couple of months. There’s not really much you can do about it– especially not when he’s bossing you around and not doing any actual work himself.

“I built the christmas tree,” he grunts, opening one of the boxes full of ornaments, squinting at the contains with disgust on his face. “And I put up all the other useless stuff before you got here too,” he says, pointing a glare at you.

Looking around the theater, you notice various types of decorations all over the place. There’s some mistletoe hanging off the ceiling (which has you wondering how he even got it there in the first place) and garlands framing all the doorways– the greenery making the whole place decorated in a very vintage tone. It’s fitting to the theme of the cinema, though, and you can tell that Sunwoo really can’t be arsed to do any better, so you don’t mention it out loud in favor of avoiding another one of your petty cat fights.

Admitting your defeat, you storm back into the staff room and carry out the tall ladder, struggling to fit through the doorways and to cross the corners, praying to all higher forces that you don’t accidentally scratch off pieces of the wall on your way to Sunwoo.

You put down the metal construction with a loud thud, making the boy look up at you from beneath his bangs, the silent curse evident in his eyes. You don’t know what’s up with him, but again, you won’t ask. You try to tell yourself that you don’t really care either, but with every glance towards his direction, the question keeps bugging you and dancing around your brain.

You force yourself not to care.

Watching as he tries to untangle the Christmas lights, struggle evident in the frustration written all over his face, you sigh and walk over to him, taking the bundle of wire out of his hands and threading your skilled fingers through the lengthy cable. You’re an expert in untangling– you don’t own bluetooth headphones, so you do this pretty much every day before listening to some music. Your headphones love to tangle in your pocket no matter how neatly you try to keep them in your pants– it’s a mystery. Almost like the Bermuda triangle.

“I can do it myself,” Sunwoo huffs, eyebrows furrowing when he watches you work your magic.

“You seemed like it too,” you ironically note, letting the spiteful side of you win, enjoying yourself when you’re rewarded by the snarky roll of Sunwoo’s eyes– everything is back to normal. You two aren’t friends, you don’t like to be in each other’s presence, and no number of shiny stolen posters and private sessions in the screening room will ever change that.

“Hold this,” you say, thrusting the end of the cord into his hand, walking a few meters away from him as you detangle the lights, watching as he impatiently stomps the floor with his heel, reminding you of Snowball from The secret life of pets movie.

When you’re done and the Christmas lights are now a straight line of wire, you slowly walk over to the tall tree in the middle of the room, wrapping the lights around the fake forest-green needles. You’re glad that the lights are long enough to cover the whole thing and you don’t have to untangle another ones, and when you’re done, you watch your coworker plug them in, examining the small, colorful light bulbs.

“Okay, now the ornaments,” you say, more to yourself than to anybody in the room, as you waltz over to the boxes and take out the decorations varying in shapes and sizes. You don’t really know what color scheme Mr Kim wants you to go for– and you doubt Sunwoo is aware either, so you just take out the ornaments you find the most pretty and hang them all over the tree, making sure each branch is covered.

Sunwoo stands around for a while, unmoving as he watches you, before he sighs to himself and finally decides to help. You leave him be, thinking that it’s for the best if you two don’t speak today when he’s in such a bad mood, but you break that promise almost immediately when you stare back at the tree after retrieving some more ornaments from the box to your right and notice the almost painful clash of colors.

You should’ve known you can’t trust a man with decorating. The beautiful contrast of the baby pink and brown ornaments you put on the tree is now ruined by the green ones you intentionally left on the bottom of the box. The colors don’t go together at all and you want to claw your eyes out every second you have to stare at it.

“Sunwoo, those colors don’t go together at all,” you say, point and blank– no sugarcoating, no offensive words, just straight facts.

“What do you mean?”

“I mean, that tree looks terrifying, and it’s all because you ruined it,” you say.

Okay, maybe you are overreacting just the slightest. But isn’t there fun in making your coworker completely out of his mind? Is this your roles being reversed for the first time? Are you finally winning this little game?

Nevertheless, you are enjoying the outburst that follows from Sunwoo. Mainly because he looks like a child throwing a tantrum as he huffs and takes off the green ornaments he put on to the tree and throws the handful back into the cardboard box, not really caring if they break or not. You’ll be replaying this scene in your head forever before you go to sleep, for the absolute frustration and annoyance on his face is one of your biggest trophies. Right now, though, you’re battling the urge to laugh.

“Fine, do it yourself, then,” Sunwoo says as he walks away from the tree, choosing to sit on the floor cross-legged, taking out his phone and scrolling through social media.

Again, you don’t know what’s gotten into him today, but you force yourself not to care. You have a job to finish here so you can go home and enjoy your day, and that’s why exactly you just shrug and finish putting on the pretty ornaments, admiring your work every once in a while when you take a break and stare on the tall tree, kind of breathless from the beauty.

You’re not really big on Christmas, but you must admit that this is fun.

The sound of Sunwoo swiping through Instagram reels is the only thing accompanying your actions, and as you look over your shoulder and see his almost sad face, you bite your lip just to not ask him what’s the matter. You’re not supposed to care. And you don’t.

“Can’t you put some festive music on?” you ask instead, your lips just begging to have a conversation with the male, despite your best judgment.

“No,” Sunwoo barks back, not even taking his eyes off the phone as the sound of the reel changes into another one, a swipe of his thumb across the screen showing him another video.

Nodding to yourself, you carefully try to pick out your next words. Not really sure how to address the male, you choose to approach him with a hint of humor you’re not sure he’ll appreciate. “What’s up with you? You’re bitchier than usual,” you say, scanning the male with cautious eyes.

Sunwoo stops for a while– a millisecond of him halting his scrolling, an action you wouldn’t notice if you weren’t trying to see any shift in his composure– before he speaks up again. “Nothing,” he shrugs.

“Okay,” you say, a tone of voice full of doubt.

When you conclude that you’re not getting more answers out of him, you nod to yourself and dart back towards the Christmas tree, making sure you make more eye contact with the glossy ornaments than with your coworker sitting behind you on the ground. Not much time passes by before he speaks up again, though, tone of voice quiet and hesitant.

“I’m just not in the mood today,” he sighs, “I have a final next week and it’s stressing me out, I haven’t slept well in quite a few days, my dad’s making me work more than usual and on top of that, I absolutely hate winter.”

“You hate winter?” you choose to focus on the least serious topic of the little rant, not really knowing when your boundaries lay in discussing the more serious ones.

“Yeah,” Sunwoo chuckles, “it’s like a shittier fall. It’s cold and dark all the time. It would be different if it snowed, though. I love it when it snows.”

Snickering at his sudden confession, you shake your head. “You’re like a little kid.”

“I remember you calling me a child once,” Sunwoo hums in agreement.

“That was different,” you say, hoping to cheer the male up at least a bit with your usual quarrel.

“I figured by the way you threw the toilet brush to my chest,” Sunwoo laughs, the memory of torturing you fond in his brain. The poster he gave you almost made you forget about the fact that he managed to make your life a living hell for quite some time– maybe you should consider this a wake-up call.

The conversation quiets down for a bit, even the sound of Sunwoo’s Instagram reels discontinued as you two marvel in the now much more comfortable silence. Testing the waters, you clear your throat before speaking up again. “Don’t worry about that exam, by the way. I’m sure you’ll do well.”

“How would you know?”

“You’re clever. You need to be clever to come up with all various ways to make my life more miserable,” you say, smiling when you hear him let out a breath of air through his nose, signaling a silent laugh.

“Any advice on the sleepless nights?” he asks, tone of voice light and humorous.

“Less things in your head,” you hum, putting the last ornament onto one of the branches, satisfied with your work. “Or melatonin.”

“Noted,” he nods, sharing a smile with you.

Walking over to the boxes stored a few feet away from the male, you open up the slim one thrown on the side, holding up the star. Your eyes meet his, a carefree twinkle in your orbs when you try to cheer up the boy’s inner child by doing a child's favorite activity. “Do you want to put the star on?”

He fails you, though. “No.”

“Why not?”

“You decorated it all yourself, so you can do the star,” he shrugs, not really into your idea.

“Oh come on–”

“I don’t feel like standing up,” Sunwoo grunts, the joy on your insides finally dying down when you get a taste of his usual composure– the one that really can’t be arsed with anything.

Sighing to yourself, you waltz over to the tall ladder, and despite your biggest worries, you continue climbing up the metal construction even when it wobbles and makes you fear you’re gonna fall. The whole thing is kind of unsteady and makes your heart thump in your throat, but you choose to get it over with and finally climb to the very top, outstretching your arm and putting the star on top of the tree, the decoration process now done and freeing you off your today’s work responsibilities.

Something akin to satisfaction beams in your insides as you climb down the ladder, and now, you’ll write this off to you being a little too excited with the vision of a face mask and popcorn at home– but your leg slips on one of the steps and despite the ladder being now magically steady, your body comes crashing down to the floor.

A yelp fights out of your throat, hands go flying in a desperate need to steady yourself or hold on to something that would make you not fall hard against the marble floor, when a miracle straight down from heaven comes to rescue in a form of flesh holding you up and shielding you from the fall, a grunt landing in your ears when your body settles into soft fabric of dark gray.

Head snapping to the source of the arms around your waist, surprised at the person’s strength used to balance you two on your feet as you fell (well, your knees buckled, but still, they haven’t yet hit the ground), you notice a pair of chocolate orbs staring down at you through a curtain of dark hair, wide eyes scanning your face and breathing out a puff of air.

“Look where you’re stepping next time, for fuck’s sake,” Sunwoo huffs, watching as your brain tries to process the near-death experience.

Registering his arms firmly placed around your waist (now realizing the soft fabric was the hoodie he’s been living in for the past few months), the citrusy scent of his cologne makes your head spin, eyes scanning his face in quick motions, as if not aware of who was your savior. You wonder how he even got to you on time (not really noticing him walking over to the ladder as soon as he saw it wobbling under you, holding it down to keep you from toppling over), and when your eyes curiously gaze at his chapped, yet plush lips, the warmth in your stomach makes you finally snap out of it.

Untangling yourself out of his limbs, much like you did with the Christmas lights a few minutes ago, you clear your throat and try to get your breathing back to normal. Your knees are a little weak, but you write that off to the shock of falling.

“This wouldn’t have happened if you just agreed to put the star on,” you complain, straightening your clothes as you walk over to the empty boxes nearby, stacking them into one another and avoiding all possible eye contact with the male.

It’s working– at least that’s what you keep telling yourself– up until you hear him chuckle and see a pair of hands taking the tower of boxes out of your hold, a charming grin sent your way as he walks away from you to the staff room. “If you say so.”

Okay, so it’s not working.

You’re fucked.

TONIGHT’S PREMIERE – THE PROPOSAL (2009)

“So… I was thinking,” Sunwoo starts one day, a bundle of rolled-up posters stacked up in his arms like a pyramid, puffs of cold air making clouds appear in front of his face as he speaks, “would you want to go see a movie with me?” he asks, tone of voice casual, as if he was asking you about the weather.

The poster you’re currently putting up into one of the glass holders outside of the cinema almost slips out of your frozen fingers out of shock, your heart skipping a beat. “Huh?” you hum, taking out a container full of pins out of your coat pocket and securing the poster to its designated place. “You want to bring money to your father’s competitor?” you joke.

“What? No,” he quickly replies, furrowing his brows as he shakes his head. “I meant, like, here,” he says, nodding towards the building to prove his point, taking a step aside when you close the glass door of the poster holder and move towards the next one, 3 more movie banners left to put up outside of the cinema.

The wires in your brain work on full force, trying to clear out any confusion caused by his sudden invitation. Sure, you two have gotten closer ever since you talked with him at the Christmas tree a week ago, but still, you didn’t know it was enough to hang out outside of work hours.

Instead of focusing the conversation on this unpredictable development, you turn towards clearing out the logistics instead. “How would we even do that? We either work at the same time or you work when I don’t and the other way around,” you say, taking the next poster from him and putting it up.

All of the movies airing the next two weeks are Christmas movies. Some of them are old, some of them are premieres, but still– you can’t really imagine watching a festive movie with your coworker. Up until last week, you thought of him as the next reincarnation of Grinch.

“I could get my sister to switch with me on a day you don’t work,” he hums, sheepish about his preposition. There’s something bashful in his tone, something shy in his gaze as he watches you put up the movie poster, but you try your hardest to ignore it for the sake of your sanity. You’re already having a hard time dealing with the fact that he appeared in your dreams twice since he caught you in his arms last week. You don’t need to add the switch in dynamic to the mix.

“Isn’t she underage?” you ask, snickering.

“Yeah, and?” he shrugs. “It’s a family business, Y/N. Everyone has to be included, underage or not.”

A laugh erupts out of your throat at the comment, shaking your head at the boy in disbelief.

“What would you even wanna see? Those are all Christmas movies,” you say, moving along and focusing your attention to the glossy material in your fingers.

“I don’t see how that’s a problem,” he says.

“Oh, it is,” you mutter, “I don’t like Christmas movies.”

Sunwoo grunts. “Well, I don’t really care. I saw your favorite movie with you, so you can return the favor and see my favorite movie with me,” he speaks up, making you roll your eyes at his words.

“There’s no way any of those movies is your favorite,” you note, doubtful tone haunting the boy.

“You wouldn’t know,” he laughs, making your heart do cartwheels at the sound, his teasing making you feel warmth despite the cold breeze trying to make your bones freeze into blocks of ice.

“I won’t go unless I believe you,” you say, grinning as you close the glass box and take the last poster out of Sunwoo’s hands, watching as the boy puts his frozen fingers into the comfort of his warm jacket, shielding them from the cold.

“Not fair.”

“Very fair, actually.”

“Oh come on,” he sighs, shaking his head in disagreement, “I thought we could watch a Christmas movie as a celebration to the end of semester,” he says, tone of voice almost pleading.

Securing the last banner into its designated place, you turn towards Sunwoo with an examining look on your face. He seems to be completely serious, eyes big pools of honey as he watches your face morph as you think. Something in your stomach makes it feel like it’s flying, making you clear your throat as you avert your gaze towards the line of Christmas movie posters on the brick wall. “Fine,” you gulp, “so what do you wanna watch?”

“The Polar Express,” he says, pointing towards the A3 scale you put up last, showing one of the movies that were older, but Mr Kim decided to air anyway– as if he was aware.

Fuck, you think. That’s my favorite.

“Absolutely not,” you cough, “I hate that movie.”

“Huh? How?” he sighs, face full of disappointment.

“Just because. It’s too long.”

“It’s not even two hours?”

Eyes quickly darting towards the poster, pupils shaking as you look towards the airing dates at the very bottom, you chew on your bottom lip, trying to find a way out. “You’re working on the 18th.”

“Okay, then we can go on the 19th,” Sunwoo says, determined to make you watch the movie with him. Why? You don’t even want to know at this point.

“I go home for Christmas break on the 19th,” you say, shrugging. “See? It wasn’t meant to be.”

“Y/N, come on–”

“Listen, can’t we just go back to hating each other instead of you annoying me about this stupid movie?” you sigh. In the whirlpool of events, you forgot just how insistent Sunwoo could be– who knows, maybe this was the real reason why you were so irritated with him in the first place.

Slowly walking back towards your workplace, hearing Sunwoo’s sneakers hit the ground behind you as he trails after you like a lost puppy, a sense of momentarily victory flows through your veins when you recognise that you found your way out. There was no way Mr Kim would let his underage daughter work instead of Sunwoo, and you truly were leaving home the evening of 19th. You already had a train ticket– you’re not gonna change your plans because of a man you despised just a few days ago.

“I never really hated you, by the way. Besides, you’re only saying that because you hate the movie,” Sunwoo grunts, chiming in front of you– making you think he’s being petty and doesn’t want to talk to you anymore, surprising you when he opens the door for you and offers you a solemn gaze, waiting for you to walk through the entryway and go back to work. (For you, it’s sitting in the ticket booth in silence. For Sunwoo, it’s pretending to work in the back, since his dad is absent today again)

Reciprocating his gaze, noticing the disappointment behind your coworker’s eyes, you feel something in your stomach drop, the weight of it so heavy you quickly avert your look.

“Maybe,” you shrug.

And maybe, the true reason is something completely else.

The words resonate through your brain– ‘I never really hated you, by the way’. Funny. Then what were all those months of torture all about?

You decide you no longer want answers.

TONIGHT’S PREMIERE – WHEN HARRY MET SALLY (1989)

You can’t believe you’re doing something nice for Kim Sunwoo.

Shoes hitting the gravel, your scarf pulled up so it covers your nose from the ice cold air, a hat hugging your head in warmth and shielding you from the aggressive weather, you start to contemplate your choices and your next moves. A sigh escapes your throat when your eyes land on the marquee above the entrance of the movie theater, teeth chewing on the inside of your cheek as you shift your weight from one foot to another.

Pulling out your phone to check the time, a shiny 7:24PM stares back at you, pushing you to walk up to the door of your workplace on your day off, 24 minutes after the beginning of The polar express.

You feel silly. You feel oh so stupid when you push the door open and your body is immediately engulfed in warmth, the yellow dim lights of the cinema making your eyes slowly adjust to the brightness contrasting the darkness of the outside world. You feel like you must have gone crazy, especially when your insides start to get all light and bubbly, hints of nerves tingling at the tips of your fingertips and the deepest corners of your stomach. There’s no turning back now, you tell yourself– and when your feet automatically take you to the ticket booth, gaze landing on the boy with his bangs in his eyes and an expression worthy of a kicked puppy on his face, you suddenly feel like your trip to the cinema was all worth it.

Clearing your throat, you notify your coworker of your presence, his big, doe eyes staring at you in surprise. Sunwoo’s mouth goes agape, shock overtaking his features when he takes in your appearance. (You bet he thinks you look laughable– your eyes teary from the cold and your figure stoic, numb limbs hanging by your side.)

“What are you doing here?” he asks, the question not as aggressive as it sounded out of your lips every time he paid a visit to the cinema on his days off for all these months.

“Uh… I forgot some things in the back and I wanted to take them home tomorrow, so I came back for them,” you hum, the practiced excuse slipping out of your lips with ease, “can you come help me?”

Sunwoo looks even more surprised at your question– although there is now a hint of confusion in the mix. What could you possibly have in the back to need his help with? For as far as he knows, you only ever kept your work uniform in your locker. “What? Can’t you get it yourself…?” he asks, noticing as you shake your head in disapproval.

“It’s… it’s on the top of the lockers and I can’t reach it, so-”

“Grab a chair…?”

You didn’t really expect to have Sunwoo question your half-assed excuse. Truly, you thought this was going to go smoothly– but knowing Kim Sunwoo, you should’ve known it was never going to go the way you planned. You’re determined to win, though.

And so it’s the time to bring out the big guns– men never say no when you praise them and make yourself look incompetent.

“Please? I don’t feel like bringing a chair and you’re tall enough. It will only take a second…” you pout, watching as the male in front of you sighs and stands up from his seat, nodding at your humble request.

Sunwoo follows you as you walk down the corridor, your heart thumping with the start of your little plan. Your steps are calculated and your movements carefully programmed, the nervousness in your stomach making you even more giddy with every meter of distance you two cross.

Before you two get a chance to make it to the back, you make a swift turn and open the doors to one of the rooms on the left of the hall, dragging Sunwoo by his hand and tugging him inside. His body stumbles against yours, but the door closes behind him faster than he can react to the impact. Steadying the boy back to his feet, you watch him with anticipation, awaiting his reaction.

The truth is, you haven’t thought the plan out this far. The depiction of it in your brain always ended with you sneaking him into the projecting room and his curious eyes peering into yours. Something about the image of the events always made you feel too overwhelmed– you never dared to imagine the situation further. (That would mean admitting some hidden desires to yourself, so you never even tried. That all makes this situation twice as nerve-wrecking, though.)

“What… are we doing here?” he asks, eyes darting around the darkness of the projection room, the only light illuminating his pretty features being the movie playing behind the glass of the small booth.

“Didn’t you say you wanted to watch The polar express with me?” you ask, voice a few octaves higher than usual.

“I… did…” he mumbles, confusion making him stumble over his own words.

“Well, you are working and I leave tomorrow, so I figured I had to find a way…” you shrug, watching as Sunwoo looks at you a little frozen, big eyes staring you down, gears turning in his head. You can’t really read him– you don’t really know if he’s going to laugh at you or send you home for ruining his shift. You don’t know if he appreciates the gesture, or if he thinks you’re being embarrassing. You don’t know if he registers the slight tremble of your hands and the lightness of your breathing, you don’t know if he realizes how much his reaction could make your day or completely ruin it (just like always), and so, you panic– and when you panic, you ramble. “I know we are technically not supposed to be here– well, me, at least– but I think that being with the owner’s son could make my boss let me off even if he somehow finds out, which I doubt he will, but–”

Sunwoo’s face starts slowly morphing, the slightest of shifts slowly adding up to a change of expression, having the male break out into the biggest, happiest grin you’ve ever seen him sport. His eyes light up and glaze your features in the softest of touches, his head shaking in disbelief. “Oh, you’re adorable.”

“What?” you ask, your heart doing seven somersaults and five cartwheels, eyes a big pool of surprise.

“You did this for me?” he beams, his grin so big and pretty it takes your breath away. Butterfly wings tickle in your stomach at the sight, having you mentally curse yourself– hold it together, Y/N.

“I- I mean, I didn’t really do anything, we just sneaked in–”

“This is the sweetest thing you’ve ever done for me,” Sunwoo hums, the teasing tone making its comeback in his voice, “actually, this might be the first sweet thing you’ve ever done for me–”

“Well, okay,” you roll your eyes, an embarrassed laugh dragging out of your throat as you turn on your heel and walk closer to the little table in the opposite end of the room, needing to avert your gaze from the boy for at least a second. The air is suddenly too heavy and it’s hard for you to breathe, heat rushing to your cheeks.

Eyes focusing on the screen in front of you, your brain tries hard to focus on your favorite Christmas movie. Failing, your head running thoughts full of conflicting emotions and erratic exclamation marks screaming the name of the boy behind you, you ask yourself how and when exactly you’ve gotten yourself into this mess.

Maybe you shouldn’t have gotten this job in the first place.

Ears painfully alert, listening to each sound heard in the small projecting room– the shuffling of Sunwoo’s feet as he nears your figure, the muffled noise of the movie playing in the screening room in front of you, the resonance of your own heartbeat in your ears as Sunwoo’s hands suddenly sneak around your middle, your jacket squeaking from the contact of his limbs as he hugs you.

“What–”

“Don’t fight me, Y/N. Just this once,” he hums, voice deep, but still a bit hesitant. It’s like he’s walking on unsteady land, cautious of his movements in fear of making you run away. He’s in a new territory, in your personal space– the scent of his cologne fills your nostrils again as his head settles itself on your shoulder, the two of you silently watching the movie for a few seconds, not really knowing how to proceed.

There’s something intimate in the way he holds you, in the way the movie is a mere background noise to the marathon of your thoughts, the blue light illuminating your faces as you both try your hardest to keep your cool.

A flashing thought of just how much you from a few months ago would hate the position it’s in right now passes by your brain, making you instantly feel foolish. Oh how much you’d love it if you stood here unaffected right now– there’s no way to battle the warmth flooding your insides right at this moment, though.

“This is nice,” he mumbles, voice barely louder than a whisper. “Thank you,” he says, your insides squeezing at the sincerity. It’s not often you get to see this side of Sunwoo– the sweet, patient one, the side of him that makes you feel safe in his arms and appreciated with the soft tone in his words. And while you realize you don’t hate the playful side of him just as much as you thought you did, you must admit the novelty of the situation makes you feel a bit more joyful than you’d like to admit.

The weight of his head disappears from your shoulder, making you feel momentarily disappointed by the action. You expect him to pull away and take a seat on the chair, to finally focus on the movie playing in front of your eyes, the thought alone making your spirit fall. The fire in your inside lights up like a match thrown into a pool of gasoline just as fast again, though, when you feel soft lips come in contact with your cheek.

They stay only for a second before they disappear, an airy laugh landing in your ear a second later. “Please don’t run away now,” he says, tone of voice uncertain, telling you that now the ball is in your court– your next actions could either make him the happiest man on Earth, or completely break him.

The choice is yours.

Your head turns his way, eyes instantly locking with his brown orbs searching for any signs of discomfort in your face. Slowly, as if still processing the events of before, your eyes trail over his features– the awfully handsome way his face was sculpted, the softness of his eyes and the sharpness of his jaw, the slope of his nose and the plushness of his lips. They’re not as chapped today, making you wonder if he started wearing vaseline, and before you get a chance to stop yourself, you start wondering of the way his lips would feel on yours, imagination running wild.

He heaves out a shaky breath, your eyes darting back into his– as if to ask for approval, see if he’s okay with it. There’s a dazy look in them, gaze pressed to your lips, then to your eyes, then your lips again– a look you take as an invitation as you act against all your best judgment and lean towards him, pressing your mouth against his.

As if testing the waters, you make the kiss short. It was long enough to engrave it into your brain, though– to remember the way his perfectly shaped lips pressed against yours, the way the world stopped just for a moment, the way he tasted of the strawberry mints he always eats at work whenever he has nothing to do.

Sunwoo seems to find liking in the action– lips glazing yours again, pressing another peck to them before he deepens the kiss, the tingling in your fingertips intensifying and the excitement bubbling in your frame making you turn in your position, front facing him and pressing up against his chest. His hands quickly adjust, slipping under your opened jacket and settling on your clothed waist, the slightest contact making your knees weak and settle your bottom against the table behind you, hands grabbing the fabric of his sweatshirt.

He pulls back to catch some air, a boyish grin breaking out on his face, forehead knocking against yours in a sweet, giddy manner. “I’ve wanted to do this for months,” he huffs.

The sentiment makes a thousand question marks appear in your head– why did he make your life a living hell, then? Why did he pull pranks on you and make you hate every second spent with him? Why did he make you so furious each time and argued with you about the smallest things? How could Sunwoo possibly have wanted this for months, when you just only started noticing his attractiveness a few weeks ago?

“Why–”

“I’ll tell you later,” he says, cutting you off as he presses his lips against yours again, your mouth automatically welcoming his presence. Brain erased of all previous questions, his kisses working like a spell, you focus all your senses on the man in front of you.

Having your hands feeling up his abdomen, Sunwoo hesitantly asks for entrance with his tongue, running it along your lower lip until you welcome him in. You like this type of power battle much more than the one you had going on until now, and with each new movement, you feel yourself falling apart under him.

His fingers tug down on the sides of your jacket, pulling it down. You don’t need it anymore– with how heated you’ve gotten, you are actually kind of happy that it is gone. One of his cold hands sneaks under the hem of your jumper, fingertips trailing up and down your side, the other one tugs down the hat from your head, discarding it somewhere on the table behind you before it finds its place on the side of your jaw, angling your head in a way that allows him to deepen the kiss even more, the contact of your lips growing firmer as seconds go by.

Your scarf is swiftly untangled off your neck, Sunwoo’s skilled lips blindly trailing down the side of your mouth towards your jaw, feathery kisses ticking you before he gets more bold and sucks on the side of your throat, a shaky breath shyly escaping your lips.

“Sunwoo…” you say, tone of voice not really present, no real intention behind the call of his name.

The boy hums against your neck, having you gasp again when he lightly bites the softness of your skin, your hands shooting up to tangle in his hair when he licks the spot to soothe it after. Threading your fingers through his locks to ground yourself, you can’t believe you ever hoped for him to get a trim.

His hands firmly hold the underside of your thighs before he hoists you up on the table, continuing his confident attack on your neck when you’re sitting comfortably on the hard surface. It’s not like you didn’t feel excited, the tiniest bit thrilled at the mental image of his possessive marks all over your throat, but you were glad it was freezing outside and you could wear a turtleneck to hide the bruises from your family tomorrow. He nuzzles his nose into the hot skin of your neck, the action making you grin in ecstasy and endearment.

Getting lost in the way he was handling you, his touches firm, yet delicate, acted out in a way that makes you feel safe and comfortable with his passionate ministrations, you almost don’t notice the door swinging open, the figure of your boss like striking like the lightning in the doorway of the screening room.

“Sunwoo!”

The boy jumps, his body quickly ungluing itself off yours, as he listens to his father scolding him. “I don’t care what you two have going on over here, but you’re on clock! There’s a line waiting for the tickets for tomorrow’s movie and someone has to sell them right now.”

The boy clears his throat, voice a little hoarse. “Coming,” he says, trying to keep his composure. His hair’s a little tousled, cheeks rosy and lips puffed– the image that will haunt you in your sweetest nightmares now– and before you get a chance to say anything or let your brain process the events of the last few minutes, your panic works faster, making you act.

Quickly scattering for your things, you run out of the projecting room without saying goodbye to either Sunwoo or your boss, never once looking back.

You think of what you’ve done on your way home, bones freezing now that they weren’t in his presence. You try hard to regret your actions, but you don’t find it in you to do so– it’s kind of hard with the feeling of his lips still playing with yours.

Even though you’d hate to admit it just a few weeks ago, you must do it now.

Kim Sunwoo does make a really good kisser.

TONIGHT’S PREMIERE – PRIDE AND PREJUDICE (2005)

There are many thoughts swimming around your brain as you walk through the coldness of the town the next day, your duffel bag hanging off your shoulder. There’s a conflict between the actions of your body and your thoughts – feet on their journey to the train station, but head stuck in the small projection room of your workplace, your coworker’s kisses occupying your every sober thought.

It’s not surprising, but you haven't heard from Sunwoo since you left the cinema last night. Not a single text or a call– but you figure that this is just your dynamic. Sunwoo’s never been much of a texter when it came to you. He’s never had the reason to text or call you, unless it was work-related, and you think it will stay that way, even though you did make out with him just last night.

Maybe he regretted it. Maybe he just didn’t feel like pondering on the events any longer– maybe it was just a one-time thing for him and he didn’t put much significance to it. You wouldn’t know– it’s not like you’re suddenly an expert on the way he feels and operates.

You, though? How do you feel about the turn of events? Despite not wanting to admit it to yourself, the answer came to you the second you tried to fall asleep last night, every soaring thought in your brain showing you the reflection of his dazed look, desires of wanting him to look at you that way all the time oh so skilfully infesting themselves into every crevice of your neocortex. You want Sunwoo to like you. You want Sunwoo to want you. You want Sunwoo to be so enchanted with your existence that he thinks about you before he goes to sleep at night– just like you have done for the past few weeks.

The answer comes to you again when you feel something wet fall on the top of your cheek, making you turn your eyes towards the sky. Your breathing comes out in puffs of air as you watch the magic happen right in front of you– and as you watch the snowflakes scatter all around the place, you are in another inner argument. While the rational side of your brain is screaming at you to keep walking to the station so you don’t miss your train home, the delirious side is cooperating with your feet for once, your figure crossing to the other side of the street and walking over to the place you could get to even with your eyes closed at this point; all because you suddenly remember the conversation you had with Sunwoo when you were putting on ornaments to the Christmas tree.

It’s the first snow of the season.

Kim Sunwoo loves it when it snows.

Speed-walking towards the vintage movie theater at the corner of the town’s square, you feel something akin to childish excitement bubbling in your insides, a hint of nervousness inviting itself into your insides when you push the door open and aim straight towards the ticket booth, where you know Sunwoo will be sitting, wasting another shift away.

He’s there– eyes pressed towards the window, gaze following the snowflakes kissing the cold ground. You expected more excitement in his character, more childlike joy in his figure– and after taking in his composure: shoulders slouching and fingers picking at the skin of his cuticles, you suddenly feel silly for coming.

Well, here goes nothing, you think.

“Sunwoo,” you call, making the boy snap his head towards you in surprise, big eyes meeting yours the moment he recognises your voice.

You don’t receive a verbal response for a while. The boy just stares at you, a bit hesitant and clueless. His face reminds you of a small puppy trying to take in the new situation in front of it. His lips are formed into a small pout, gears in his brain turning and trying to process the reality of having you standing there, face beaten from the cold.

Clearing your throat, you try to take charge of the situation. “It’s snowing outside,” you say, eyes peering out of the window, all thoughts suddenly escaping your brain, words blanking off your tongue, “and, well… you said you like the snow, so…”

The boy’s mouth hangs agape, a twinkle in his eyes slowly appearing once again when he stares at you, your nervousness doing wonders to your conversation skills. “I- I don’t even know what I wanted to say with that, it’s just- I don’t know… I saw it was snowing and I automatically came here, so-” you stutter, the sentence cutting off as Sunwoo jumps to his feet and grins, wordlessly taking your hand into his and dragging you outside.

The duffel bag falls off your shoulder somewhere in the middle of the hall, discarded to the floor, before Sunwoo sharply halts in his steps and runs back towards the ticket booth, still dragging you with him by the hand. The boy grabs something off the table, the item not visible in your rear point of view, and before you have a chance to register what’s happening, you’re outside of the building again, coldness instantly slapping you in the face.

It’s dark out, but the heaviness of the snow provides enough light in the silent evening for you to see where you’re going under the yellow lampposts on the street. Instantly noticing the lack of Sunwoo’s warm hand in yours when he suddenly lets go, you turn your head to look at the male.

Terror fills your veins when you notice him gathering snow from the ground and pressing it into a tight ball, a screech escaping your throat when you watch him swing it at you, a playful, boyish grin playing with his features. The male chases you around and most of the snowballs don't even hit your running figure (he does have an awful aim), but you still duck anyway and try your hardest to win your snowball fight.

Numb fingers creating snowballs and halting them at his tall frame, but missing most of the time due to his fast reflexes, you laugh and let go of all the worries and questions clouding your judgment. Sunwoo looks enthusiastic, so much more lively than when you found him in the ticket booth just a few minutes ago– but that’s still not enough for you to let him win.

Gathering the icy texture into your hands, you run towards him, taking advantage of his inattention as he’s bent over and taking more snow into his hold, and halt the whiteness into his face just as he straightens his back and wants to prepare for his attack.

More laughter bubbles out of your chest when you watch him drop his snowball to the ground, admitting defeat. The snow is all over his face– slowly running down his cheeks like teardrops, redness tinting his nose and the sides of his face.

The male shudders from the cold, and you instantly start feeling bad. Only now you realize that he ran out without a coat, a gasp escaping your throat. “Oh god,” you mourn, hands flying towards his frozen face to wipe off the snow from his cheeks, fingers carefully tracing over his cold skin. His eyes open as he watches you, something in his gaze so tender you feel yourself melting even in the middle of the snowstorm.

The male shuffles his hands into the front pocket of his gray hoodie, taking out the item you now recognise to be the hat you accidentally forgot in the projecting room yesterday (and already mentally paid goodbye to), his frozen fingers tugging the fabric onto your head.

“Why are you putting this on me? You’re the one that’s freezing over here!” you scold him, shaking your head at the male.

He rewards you with an amused grin, watching your next moves. Acting on auto-pilot, not really putting much thought into your actions, you unzip your jacket and step impossibly near to the male. Holding the jacket open, you hug him around his middle, making sure you are sharing the warmth with him and keeping him as close as possible, shielding him from the cold with both the fabric of your puffer jacket and the heat radiating off your body.

Faces just inches away from each other, you peer at his face. He wears a warm expression, eyes peeking out from behind his dark bangs. Clouds of breath escape his mouth when he speaks, voice quiet, as if to not ruin the atmosphere. “I thought you would regret it,” he says, making you break out into a foolish smile.

“I thought so too,” you nod.

“And you don’t?”

Shrugging, you reply. “Not really.”

“Why?” he asks, suddenly doubtful. “You said you hated me. Which was odd to hear, honestly, since I did all this to get your attention anyway and I thought it was just how our dynamic works, but… I could see how it could be annoying to you…”

Chuckling, you roll your eyes at the sudden revelation. It’s sickeningly sweet how endearing he looks when he doubts himself, explaining himself to you in a nervous blabber. “I don’t hate you. At least not anymore.”

“You don’t?”

“No,” you shake your head, a tender gaze shared between the two of you, “I actually quite like you, I think…” you mumble, a little bashful to admit it out loud.

“You do?” he asks, the twinkle in his eye glimmering twice as much as ever before, tone of voice playful, yet laced with honest joy and surprise at your confession.

“I do,” you nod, voice barely louder than a whisper as you watch him lean closer towards your face, cold nose bumping into yours before he angles his head, breath mixing in with yours in the few seconds before he dares to kiss you again, capturing your lips with his.

The kiss is sweet. The kiss tastes of strawberry mints and the first snow, of unsaid confessions and longing looks sent your way every time you weren’t looking. The kiss makes your stomach fill with a thousand little butterflies, it melts away the ice around you, the two of you like a spark of a fire in the middle of a snowy land.

His actions have your composure faltering, hands untangling from behind him and moving up to cradle his face. He melts under your touch, leaning into you as your fingers trail over his cheekbones. Holding on to him, thumbs padding his soft skin, you’re reminded of the cold only when he breaks off you and shudders again, teeth clattering from the freezing temperature.

“Let’s get you inside,” you say, planting a short peck to his lips, “before you turn into an icicle,” you giggle, watching as he scrunches up his face.

“I won’t,” he shakes his head, “love warms me up,” he grins, making you roll your eyes at his bold statement.

“You’re so cheesy.”

“But you quite like me anyways, no?”

Sighing, moving away from him and tugging him back inside the cinema, you shake your head at the boy. “I’ll think about it on my train home,” you bite back, opening the door to the theater and aiming towards the duffel bag you dropped on your way out.

Sunwoo watches you with a warm gaze, an adorable smile playing with his lips. His figure seems to be visibly taking in the heat again, his face adorning a flush, pink color.

“So I take it as you’re not quitting anymore, then?” he teases as you walk back to the door, both of you ignoring the customers waiting for their tickets in the line in front of the forgotten booth.

“We’ll see,” you shrug.

“I’ll text you the schedule for January?”

“You better text me about something else too, Kim Sunwoo,” you bark back, opening the door towards the cold landscape, “or you’re gonna have a very uncomfortable return back to work in January!”

The boy laughs, the noise like a Christmas carol to your ears. “Noted.”

Slipping outside, you watch as he waves at you goodbye, your feet dragging through the snow towards the train station having more pep to their step now. You don’t even know if you can make it to the train on time, but you surprisingly have no regrets– you can always catch the next one, right?

Mentally wanting to slap yourself for the lovesick grin playing with your lips, you sigh.

The male that once made your life a living hell is now the one you look forward to seeing the most once you come back after Christmas break. It’s kind of strange, really.

One would think that working with movies on the daily would prepare you better for the biggest plot twist of your life.

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literaila · 3 months

Text

sick

gojo satoru x fem!reader

summary: satoru does not get the 'flu' that you have, or why you can't take megumi to the bookstore

warnings: symptoms of the flu, satoru is a bastard, cute kids

last part | next part

year two.

you: can you take megumi to the bookstore? i can't make it

"megumi wants me to ask you what you mean by 'i can't make it.'"

your phone rings as soon as the message is sent, making you groan and roll over in bed. your palms are sweaty, and your body feels a bit like you got eaten alive.

you probably shouldn't have answered, but honestly, how can you be expected to make smart decisions in this state?

you sigh into the phone. "it means that i can't make it, satoru."

usually, his voice would make you smile but right now it just makes you want to die. and sleep for a couple... billion years, at least.

"megumi wants me to ask what you mean by that?" satoru says again like you can't tell he's grinning.

"just let me talk to him," you sigh, turning over on your side, which does nothing to ease the ache in your abdomen, by the way. you feel briefly nauseous like you might need the bowl you dragged under the covers, but it eases. you swallow bile.

"what's wrong?" satoru asks, still teasing, and doesn't put megumi on the phone because he has never, not once in his life done anything without an argument.

really, why do you put up with him?

"nothing."

"well you just forgot that both of the kids are in school right now, like they are every day, so..."

you close your eyes, pulling the covers up even higher. "oh. yeah."

"did you get hurt, or something?" satoru asks, no concern evident in his voice, "going on another mission?"

"no."

satoru is silent, waiting. and you really truly do hate him. anyone else would just do you this favor.

but not your best friend, no, he does nothing you ask.

"i'm sick," you tell him, after a whole minute of silence.

you can almost hear it as his brows furrow. "what?"

"i have the flu or something," you cough into the receiver, hoping that it hurts his ear.

"how?"

"ugh," you groan, trying to rub the ache out of your jaw. "not all of us are immune to getting sick, you freak. will you take megumi to the bookstore for me? please?"

"i don't think he wants to go with me."

"satoru," you whine.

"...and also i'm not allowed to enter the premises anymore."

you sniff, wishing that you had more tissues, "what? since when?"

"a couple weeks ago," he answers, nonchalantly. you can hear him moving around, probably wreaking havoc on the house you'll have to deep clean in a couple of days.

not to mention your room. seriously, getting sick is the worst.

"why?"

"nuh uh," he says to you, very seriously. "that's between me and the children. they swore me to secrecy, and you're the one that's always going on and on about trust and how easily it's broken..."

"you mean that you swore them to secrecy."

"i bribed them," satoru agrees as if it's not an insane thing to say about your seven and eight-year-olds.

"with what?!"

"tsumiki took the offer of picking whatever takeout she wanted, and i think megumi was just glad i couldn't bring him anymore, the brat."

you can hear his eyes roll, and the mention of the little boy's name reminds you of why you're having this discussion in the first place.

"satoru... i really can't take him and i promised we'd go today," you groan into your pillow, voice feeling very sore. you shouldn't be talking to this insane man right now, you should be asleep.

he pauses. "i can wear a disguise, i guess?"

you groan again, hopefully, louder. "no, you're right about him not wanting to go with you."

"rude."

"i guess i'll just..." you attempt to sit up for the third time, feeling a bit dizzy as you do so. "i'll take some medicine and see if i feel better by the time they get out of school."

you're already mentally checking your medicine cabinet, not even sure if you have anything to help this ease by later in the afternoon. just some pain relief would be nice, but if you're contagious...

"what? no."

"well, you can't take him," you answer, still annoyed.

"he doesn't need to go..."

you hope that satoru can feel your scowl. "i promised."

"he's a reasonable kid..." satoru says, clearly not remembering the brooding that happened the last time megumi had to re-read one of his books. "i think."

you're silent.

"look, i'll talk to him, okay?" he settles on, finally. "and i'll give him a couple hundred yen, it'll be fine.

your mouth opens, and you cough, before, "no, satoru--"

"get some rest," he exclaims, unpleasantly.

"have him call me when you pick them up, satoru--"

"don't die of the flu or anything."

and then he's gone, and now you've got a headache, too.

you think you might be dreaming when you open your front door.

the knocking had woken you up--you think--but with how long it took to walk from your room, into the hallway, and then the door, honestly, you might've fainted. or decided to take another nap against the wall.

because once you open it, it feels like you've done this before.

once again, three people are standing in front of you, two of them already arguing before you even take a step back to swing the door all the way open.

the light hurts your head as you squint at the three of them.

"it was my idea--" megumi is saying to satoru, grumpy, you know, from all day at school, and because he's talking to satoru.

"you're not taking all of the credit," satoru says back, "i bought everything."

"'cause you're rich."

"wow, so you're objectifying me?"

"yes," megumi answers immediately, even though you doubt that he even knows what objectifying means (actually, you're pretty certain satoru doesn't even know). you cough, and it feels like something has died inside of you.

the three of them turn towards you, tsumiki with a pleading look.

"it was my idea, okay?" megumi tells you before anyone else can say anything, and then he pulls tsumiki along with him as they move past you, through the door, into your apartment.

yes, it's clear that satoru has raised them.

"i said we should bring soup," tsumiki looks up at you, waiting for the praise she knows you'll give her.

"our idea," megumi amends, easily.

then they're out of your reach, going to sit on the very same couch they'd slept on a year ago, probably trying to escape satoru.

who you turn to, with a frown. his hair is so white it hurts to look at.

he points into your apartment, "those are devil spawn."

you cough. "don't call them that."

he raises a brow at you. probably at how soft your voice is, or the fact that you haven't hit him in the thirty seconds he's been standing there.

it's a new record.

"why are you here?" you rasp out, wiping some snot from your nose.

"no 'hello?'"

"hello, satoru," your voice is retched, "why are you here?"

"you look kinda rough, kid,"

you sniff, leaning against the doorjam. you could fall asleep here in an instant. "i'm sick, you jerk."

"so this is sickness..." satoru says, intrigued, pretending to inspect you closely like you're some lab experiment.

"i distinctly remember a cold that had you shaking on the floor of your dorm, begging shoko to heal you."

satoru points a finger at you. "that was an uncurable illness."

"and yet we're still stuck with you."

satoru just smirks, pretending to be an angel he is not.

you cough again and then sigh. it's cold with the door open. "are you just here to annoy me?"

"no," satoru shakes his head, giving you a ridiculous look, "well, i was telling megumi that you couldn't take him to the bookstore, cause of your disease or whatever," he ignores your weak protest, "and then i suggested that maybe we could see how you were feeling, bring you a little gift basket--"

"no, he didn't!" megumi calls.

satoru frowns. "devil. spawn."

you snort, somehow amused at all of them, finally moving aside so he can walk through the door.

satoru passes, suddenly brighter, but not before leaving an obnoxious kiss on your cheek--a resounding smack following. to which, you promptly wipe off.

he frowns, and you push him so you can close the door. and then you trail into the kitchen, sitting down immediately before you fall.

it's so embarrassing that just standing for too long has made you this lightheaded.

satoru sets a bag on your kitchen counter and begins to unpack it.

you try to see over his hands. "what did you bring me?"

"you guys are so unappreciative," satoru tells you, pouting, "you only want me for my goods."

"and the view," you answer, easily. "what'd you get?"

megumi and tsumiki comes over to you, both of them giving you a short (megumi) and tight (tsumiki) hug. you've trained them well.

"soup!" tsumiki tells you, grabbing the container from satoru's hands, despite his look. and then she walks over to your stove, looking in the cupboards for a pot to heat it in.

because she's used to taking care of herself. they both are.

"satoru," you nod to her, and he frowns, but reluctantly takes over, pushing tsumiki away from the stove. you're both familiar with this behavior from her.

most days when you make dinner, tsumiki is trying to sneak into the kitchen, refusing to let you take care of it.

she pouts a little now, but lets satoru handle the soup.

"gojo got you all of these," megumi tells you, bringing your eyes away from the other man, pushing a stack of pill bottles and medicine containers your way. "i don't think he knows what any of them are."

"hey! that's a great selection," satoru pours the soup into a pot and sets it on the stove, returning to the counter with the three of you.

"this is a muscle relaxant," you tell him, frowning as you look at the packages--most of which are not for the flu. this is why he's not allowed to go to the store without you.

"well, your muscles need to relax, don't they?" satoru asks, dryly. "wish we could find some of those for your brain..." he mutters, afterward, and you throw the packet right at his face.

"i found those little sour things you like," megumi continues, smirking just a moment at satoru. "they didn't have a big bag."

"thanks, megs."

"there's tissues, and chapstick if your lips get dry. and i picked out the cough drops because gojo wanted to get chocolate flavored or something--"

"strawberry!"

megumi rolls his eyes.

tsumiki steps to your side again. "and we got flowers, but those are still in the car."

"no, they're not," satoru suddenly has a bouquet of roses in his hands, almost covering his entire face. "they're right here."

"when did you do that?"

"when you guys were ridiculing my excellent taste," he pouts, white hair falling over his glasses.

you laugh.

"where's your vase?" he asks, going through every cupboard before finally listening to your answer. he settles on the other end of your kitchen, cutting and arranging the bouquet.

tsumiki taps you. "are you feeling bad?"

"just a little out of it, sweetie, don't worry."

"did we get everything you need?" megumi chimes in, giving you a brief moment of eye contact before looking away.

"yes. you guys did great, thank you both. you're very sweet."

satoru ahems loudly. "and what about me?"

"you could've done better."

the kids both laugh and you push them into the living room, telling them to go sit down for a bit--knowing that satoru dragged them from school to the store to here without a break--and that you'll find a snack for them.

and then you sigh, a bit nauseous from sitting up for so long.

"do you need to lay down?" satoru peers at you, setting the bouquet on your table. "you look green."

"thanks. how'd you learn to do that?" you gesture to the flowers which are arranged beautifully. honestly, you're surprised he didn't leave them on the counter for you to deal with.

"i am a gentleman."

"ha. no, seriously."

"...i may, or may not have looked up what to bring someone who has the flu--and the flowers were extra, but!" he pauses as you laugh at him, resting your head against the cool counter. "i only had to do that because i don't get affected by stupid things like the flu or whatever you have."

"of course," you whisper, closing your eyes.

and then there's a hand on your forehead. "you're really warm."

you press your head into his hand, which is also pleasantly cold. "yeah."

"did you sleep all day?"

you nod.

"really? that's so lazy."

you push him away, and he laughs, just loud enough for you to hear it. you open your eyes again when you hear him move away, watching him stir the soup on the stove.

"you probably shouldn't have brought them here," you tell him, gesturing to the living room. "i don't want to get them sick."

"they missed you," satoru shrugs. "you wouldn't want them to be sick alone."

"yeah, but..."

"i'm the worrier today," he interrupts, wrapping his hand around your wrist so he can pull you. "go lay down on the couch with them and i'll get your soup ready."

"you'll burn it, you mean?"

"as a punishment for all of the cruel things you say to me," and satoru smiles as he nudges the top of your head with his nose.

his eyes are almost stern (almost, but not quite) as he watches you lay down on the couch, your hands gestured in defeat, and nods when you're settled in.

when he walks away, you call, "bring us some water!"

there's no response, but you know he'll do it.

tsumiki just slightly nudges you with her hand and you smile, opening your arms for her to cuddle under.

megumi doesn't do the same, but you don't fail to notice when he scooches just a little bit closer to you both, his thigh touching yours.

your head still hurts and even the smell of the soup is making you a bit sick, but you'll deal with it as long as they're all here.

you're arguing with satoru about dinner, several days later, when tsumiki and megumi sneeze at exactly the same time.

it took a couple of days for you to recover, but now you're better than ever, happily fighting with satoru over the stupidest things and watching over both of the children for any defects that happened while you were out of sorts.

they're mostly okay.

but now the both of you look over to them, your eyes wide, satoru almost wincing.

and then you look back to him, already scowling.

"hey, it was just a sneeze," he tells you, quickly, already knowing what you're about to say.

"i told you--"

and then he sneezes, taking a step away from you.

you groan, giving up on dinner. it looks like the next few days are going to be spent coddling all of your children.

next part

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obsessedelusional · 1 year

Text

Your Pretend Boyfriend

paring ✦ Eddie Munson x reader

summary ✦ You back from college, visiting during thanksgiving break. Jason Carver has always liked you the feelings not mutual. So when you catch him harassing Eddie you pretend to be his girlfriend. What happens with your pretend boyfriend? CONTAINS SMUT

word count ✦ 3,200ish

authors note ✦ BRO I’m almost to 300 followers and 5000+ likes omg y’all are tooooo sweeet to me hope y’all enjoy this

masterlist ✦ PART TWO

FEEDBACK AND REBLOGS APPRECIATED!!!

⊹ ꙳ ✦ ⁺ ‧ ⨯. ⁺ ✦ ⊹

The sound of your someone calling for you takes your gaze away from your phone. Looking up expecting to see your best friend. The two of you had plans to meet at this restaurant to catch up. You were in town visiting during thanksgiving break.

To your dissatisfaction it’s none other than Jason Carver. You groan annoyed knowing where this was headed. You’re parents were close and they always rooted for the two of you to end up together. Not a single part of you wanted anything to do with him. He was a few years younger than you. Also the worst human being on planet earth.

“You visiting for break?” He smiles leaning on the wall where you’re standing.

“Yup.” You say with no emotions, giving your full attention on your phone. Not wanting to give him the satisfaction of giving him any attention.

“What brings you here?”

“Meeting someone.” You answer eyes still on your phone, scrolling on something random. Pretending to be busy.

“Who?” He ask curiously.

“Can we skip to the part where you say something nasty, I tell you to fuck off and then you leave me alone?” You spit out, disregarding his previous question.

“We should hookup while your in town, give you some good ol dickin’ down. I’m sure those college boys can’t fuck you like I would.” There it is.

“For the millionth time that will never happen.” You respond, desperately waiting for your friend to arrive.

“Sheesh have you’ve always been such a bitch?” He laughs. When you don’t respond Jason walks off deflated.

You pray that is the end of that. Only for him to find his next victim. A curly headed boy you definitely remember, Eddie. It’d be hard to forget someone like him. Jason hated him, for whatever reason which made you gravitate towards him. You two were never all that close only exchanging hellos in the hallways. Occasionally bonding over your hatred of Jason. More than once telling Jason to leave their group alone.

Just as your deep in thought, thinking about Munson your phone dings. It’s the friend you were waiting for, she’s canceling on you. Her two year olds sick and can’t make it. You sigh out loud annoyed but understanding, typing a quick response.

You’re attention goes back to Eddie and Jason. Eddie was sat by himself, probably waiting for someone. Jason is giving him shit for being at a restaurant all by himself. It crosses your mind for a second and before you can realize how bad this idea is your on your way to Eddie’s table.

“Hey babe,” You smile greeting Eddie, confusion immediately spreads across his face. You mouth ‘just go along with it’ as you sit down next to him, careful so Jason doesn’t see. You plant a small kiss on his cheek, his confusion turns to a grin.

“Hey princess,” His arm slings around your shoulder. The pet name sends a heat through your body, you quickly push that away. You look up to Jason who’s slack-jawed.

“There’s no fucking way.” He whines.

“What?” You ask playing dumb.

“There’s no fucking way you two are dating.” Jason responds.

“We’ve been dating for six months, right babe?” You ask nuzzling yourself deeper into Eddie’s embrace.

“Almost seven.” He smiles, proudly.

“We actually have you to thank for that. Bumped into each other, bonded over our dislike for you. Been inseparable since.” You laugh because Jason looks pissed making this so worth it. He goes to speak but can’t get anything out, obviously frustrated.

“We’re gonna have a quick little lunch. Then head back to his place so he can give a good ol dickn’ down. That’s what you called it right?” You watch as Jason’s eyes go wide, full of pure disgust before running out of the restaurant. Once he’s out of hearing range you start erupting out in laughter, Eddie joining you.

“That was amazing. I don’t think I’ve ever seen him so speechless.” Eddie talks catching his breath from laughing so hard.

“I can’t stand him. He’s been up my ass for as long as I can remember. Saw the opportunity and took it.” You respond, looking over to Eddie’s who’s arm still rests on your shoulder. He notices you noticing and pulls away.

“You don’t have an actual girlfriend right? Otherwise this’d be kinda awkward.” You ask.

“Yeah actually I do.” Unknowingly your face falls, upset that he does.

“We met six months ago been inseparable since.” He teases, you roll your eyes realizing what he means. A silence falls over you two and you can’t help but feel like you’ve overstayed your welcome.

“I’ll leave you be. Thanks for participating in my antics.” You smile standing up from the table.

“I just got myself a girlfriend I ain’t letting you so quick.” You turn to face Eddie.

“We’ve been dating for all of five minutes and it’s the best relationship I’ve ever had.” He smiles, motioning for you to sit back down. Your intrigued so you sit down, this time on the other side of the booth.

“Are you sure? Someone’s not gonna show up and be upset I’m here?” You ask, seriously not wanting to impose.

“Don’t worry about it. Plans canceled.” He shoots you a smile before pulling his phone out, typing away for a moment.

“You really don’t have to do that.”

“Hang out with my beautiful older college girlfriend? Whom I only see during school breaks. Or hangout with my friends I see everyday at school? Uhhhh I think I’ll choose my girlfriend.” His words bring a cheesy grin to your lips.

“Okay I guess I can stay and enjoy lunch with my boyfriend.” You sigh, pretending like it’s an inconvenience for you. In reality your happy, your plans fell through and now your sat across from a long haired tatted hottie.

“How old are you? Not trying to catch a case.” You tease almost positive he’s of legal age. Better safe then sorry.

“19.” He responds between laughing at your joke.

—

Lunch with Eddie was amazing, part of you grateful your friend canceled on you last minute. You feel an instant connection, not wanting the date to end quite yet. The two of you are walking out of the restaurant, hand in hand. Your brain scrambling for an excuse to prolong this date.

“So what was that comment you made about a good ol dickin’ down about?” Eddie asks and almost immediately it’s like a light bulb goes off your head.

“Jason’s been trying to make the moves on me since forever. Just before I joined my boyfriend our date he offered to do that me.” You laugh, you’re not sure where you two are headed just following Eddie’s lead.

“You and Jason, you never?”

“Never ever.”

“That’s crazy. I remember rumors went around about the two of you dating all the time.” He says, processing this new information. Jason Carver wanted you yet you were her with Eddie. He was excited by that thought but at the same time puzzled.

“Started by him. He made my high school experience hell.” You admit.

“Same here.” He sighs, you two reaching his van. Realizing this is where the date either continues or ends.

“Should we keep our story going?” You ask. Noticing Jason sat in his car with his friends, he’s watching the two of you. If he wants to watch, you’d give him a show. Mostly for own selfish desires.

“What?” He asks so you nod in the direction of Jason car full of jocks, watching Eddie’s gaze move from you to them.

“I told Jason we’d have a little lunch and then go your place where’d you give me a good ol dickin’ down.” You cringe at the usage of Jason’s phrase. Eddie’s attention whips back to you because of the words coming from your mouth.

“Gotta make it believable, right?”

“Yeah.” He says. Eddie is hesitant not because he doesn’t want to but because he can’t tell if you’re being sarcastic. You push him towards his van, his back hitting it makes a loud thud. If they weren’t looking they are now.

You get closer, closing the gap between you two. Reaching for his hair, running your fingers through it. You had been wanting to do this since you sat at his table. Wishing he’d call you princess again.

“Is this okay?” You ask to which Eddie nods eagerly. Without missing a beat you kiss him. Softly at first, testing the waters. Eddie melts into your touch, his hand reaching around sliding his hands in your butt pockets. He pulls you closer into him, squeezing your ass in the process. Causing you to let out a little gasp surprised by his bravery. He smiles mid kiss only making you want more. The kisses becoming more aggressive, the wetness starting to pool in your panties.

“Get a fucking room, freaks!” Jason yells and then the sound of tires screeching past you two startles you momentarily. You pull away, grinning. Eddie’s eyes are closed, the biggest smile on his face.

“Still don’t think it’s believable enough.” You say, sighing your tone suggestive.

“Really?” Eddie asks, sounding confused.

You roll your eyes, “Your beautiful older college girlfriend wants a good ol dickn’ down.”

“You.. want me to-” He stutters, stopping before you finish for him.

“I want you to fuck me.” His dick twitches in his jeans because of the six words that came out of your mouth.

“Do you want that?” You ask.

“Yes.” He gulps, excited for what’s coming. Hopefully him soon. He opens the car door for you, you climb inside disregarding the fact that you drove yourself here. Your horny brain fogging your mind deciding in the moment you’d figure it out later.

This wasn’t like you, you never hooked up with someone so shortly after getting to know them. You couldn’t help but feel like something about this situation was different. Eddie was different, like a good different.

It’s a very short but also painfully long drive to his home. Eddie’s never been so thankful for his uncle to be out of town, couldn’t of picked a better time to leave him home alone. The drive is mostly silent, filled with music and stealing glances at each other.

As soon as Eddie parks at his home he’s out of the car running to your door, letting you out. He grabs your hand leading you to the front door. Where he struggles for a few moments to find the right key. Once inside, he shuts the door behind you before facing you. His hands press firmly on your ass to lift you, your legs straddling his body. This time he’s the one to initiate the kiss, carrying you to wherever. You didn’t care as long as Eddie was there.

For a moment your startled when he drops you on his bed. Your allowed a quick glance around his room, taking it in before you look up to see Eddie. He’s shirtless now and his shoes are missing. So you follows in his steps ripping your shoes off. When you go to take your shirt off he stops you with a intense kiss before doing it himself, then unhooks you bra exposing your bare chest.

He pulls away to take in the view, “Fuck you’re beautiful.”

Eddie smashes his lips on yours pushing you back into the bed before kissing down you neck only to stop at your nipple. The sensation is enough for you to let out a sweet moan slightly arching you back into him. Mouth still attached to you while his hands are busy unbuttoning your pants, pulling them down quickly along with your panties.

You curse your self for not wearing something sexier but you had no idea this where’d you be today. Part of you embarrassed you haven’t shaved in a while. Your worries are immediately put at ease when he spreads your thighs, letting his head rest between them.

“Beautiful.” Her murmurs before placing a sugary kiss on your clit, sending a shockwave through your body. His tongue begins rubbing against your bud. Without thinking your hands find his hair, pushing him deeper between your folds. Your head falls back, moans leaving you lips. When you think it can’t get any better, he slips a long strong finger in your pussy. Pumping into you the same pace as his tongue that is still toying with your clit.

“More please-“ You whine and Eddie listens adding another finger, stretching you out. Your a mess under his touch. Never once has a man prioritized your pleasure. You’ve become masterful at giving yourself orgasms. The feeling of it being at the hands of someone else unfamiliar. A good unfamiliarity.

“Fuckk- Eddie I’m..” Your words turn into strangled moans, a tightness growing in your stomach. Your breath hitches as you pulsate on his thick fingers, your eyes rolling back as you come undone. Your busy riding out your high but the feeling of his fingers leaving you brings you back down to reality. His laps up your juices one last time before speaking.

“Mm so sweet.” Eddie purrs sucking on his own two fingers that were covered in your juices. They leave his mouth with a popping sound as he sits up in the bed.

“My turn.” You say barley audible sitting up reaching for the button on his jeans. Wanting nothing more than to wrap your lips around his cock. He stops your hands causing you to look up to Eddie, you cant help but pout.

“I don’t think I’ll last long with your pretty lips sucking me off right now. Next time, okay?” You nod smiling at the thought there’d be a next time. Eddie kisses you pushing your head back onto the bed. Only pulling away to pull his pants off and grab a condom from his bed side table. You watch intently as his pulls down his boxers, revealing his cock. You let out a gasp as it hits his stomach, never once had you seen one this big. Eddie smiles at your reaction while unwrapping the condom. Slowly rolling it over the tip of his dick and down the entirety of his hard length.

Eddie gets back on top of you, spreading your legs. He lets the tip rest on you swollen clit before dragging it down to your hole. Slowly, inch by inch you adjust to his size. He bottoms out, you let out a whimper because you’ve never felt fuller. He uses his hands to lift your thighs up so he can get better angle before starting a slow motion. Pumping in and out of you at a painfully slow pace, only making you desperate for him to pick up the pace.

He leans down to your level, his head resting in the crook of your neck. Your chest being flattened by his. One hand rests at the back of his neck, tightening in his hair and the other hands digs into his back as he bucks his hip harder into you. He’s thrusting harder but you desperately need him faster.

“Faster- please.” You say and it comes out as a whine. You get exactly what you want because he pushed up so he can see you before recklessly pounding into you cunt faster than before. He guides your hands so you can hold your own legs up, using his free hand to find your clit running circles around it sloppily.

“How does that feel princess?” He grunts between thrusts, his finger still playing with your bud. You can’t help but smile at the pet name. He finally said it again. When you don’t respond he rocks his hips harder and you start feeling that tightening in your stomach again.

“Fuck.” You cry out, knowing you’re about to cum for the second time. The sensation of your pussy throbbing on his cock as you get closer to finishing nearly sends him over the edge but he’s determined to make you cum again. His fingers work more tactically on your clit which is just enough to have you gushing on his dick.

“Good girl.” He groans. Not even a second later he’s cumming inside the condom, inside you. Suddenly wishing that thin little layer of latex wasn’t there so you could feel his seed coat your inner walls. He kisses you sweetly one last time before pulling out and falling next to you. His chest heaving up and down as he tried to catch his breath. You rest on his chest, listening to his heart beat.

“Was that believable?” He asks, out of breath.

“What?” You ask confused to drunk on dick to comprehend.

“Was that a good ol dickin’ down?” He laughs. You roll your eyes before nodding your head, yes.

—

The next two weeks we’re spent under and on top of Eddie Munson any chance you got. Dreading the fact that when break came to an end you’d have to head back to school. It was a three hour drive from Hakwins. You just got Eddie and couldn’t imagine having to let go so soon.

Eddie was so grateful Wayne left for the two weeks during thanksgiving break. He had a whole two weeks of uninterrupted time with you. He tried hard no to think about the fact you’d be leaving him in a short time. If he thought about it too much he’d upset himself, usually pushing the thoughts away focusing on the time he did have with you. So to say he was surprised when you invited him to have thanksgiving dinner with your family would be an understatement.

When you found out Eddie would be spending thanksgiving day alone you didn’t hesitate to invite him. Your heart felt for him when he admitted he never really celebrated holidays with Wayne always working. You were determined to make it perfect.

Explaining to you parents why this random dude was coming over on thanksgiving dinner was the hardest part. Only for Eddie to introduce him self as your boyfriend of seven months. They look at you like ‘what the fuck’ to which only caused you to laugh. Cursing yourself for not get your stories straight. More than happy to continue the bit but wished you could of prepared better.

“So how’d you two meet them?” Your father asks curiously. You both say different answers. You blurt out high school and he says you two met at a restaurant.

“We’ll we went to high school together, knew of each other. Ran into each other at Danny’s Dinner and hit it off.” You explain further, their faces telling that they don’t believe anything coming out of your mouth. They never question any further, thankfully.

—

Todays the dreaded day. The day you leave for college. You had already said your goodbyes to your family. Deciding what time you had left would be spent with Eddie. The two of you had just finished fucking for possibly the last time. Your brain had been heavily worried about what would happen when you left. It’s now or never, you need to ask him.

“I’m gonna miss you.” Eddie sighs. You sit up to face him, he’s laid in bed looking at the roof.

“I’ll miss you too. What are we doing?” You ask, trying to read his reaction. He looks at you with a smile.

“I don’t know about you but I’ve been faithfully committed to you for the last seven months.” He teases.

“I’m being serious Eddie.” You groan.

“Me too, princess.”

“So we are-?” You start to ask and he interrupts.

“Yes we are. Your all mine.” He kisses you.

“All yours.” You melt into his kiss, fucking one more time.

#eddie munson #eddie munson fanfic #eddie munson fic #eddie munson oneshot #eddie munson pov #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson x you #eddie imagine #eddie x reader #eddie munson smut #eddie stranger things #eddie x y/n #eddie x you #eddie smut #smut #stranger things #stranger things smut #stranger things x reader #stranger things 4

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magerightsmagefights · 3 months

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I know people tend to forget Wyll a lot in this fandom (I wonder why. What Could Possibly Be Different. Can you spot the difference?/s) but I'm genuinely surprised at the lack of Durge x Wyll content. Especially if you're going Redeemed, there's that inherent flavor of "My lover cannot know the truth, I am horrible and they would hate me, they would be correct to hate me." And with Wyll it's just... so juicy, he's so pure and shining, and Durge is so filled with filth and misery that there's barely a person left underneath.

Idk, as a femme romance reader I've spent so many years reading the "love redeems" arc where a FMC plays beauty to an MMC beast, in every genre, medium, budget, etc. I'm not here to yuck anyone's yum, but beauty and the beast as a story structure has never done it for me.

until it's reversed, apparently, because Wyll as the beauty to Durge's beast needs to be injected directly into my veins like yesterday. All the other companions are good and sweet, don't get me wrong, but their reactions are coded like 'i accept you,' where Wyll to me comes off much more as 'we will heal you.' He doesn't have any funny little quips about you trying to bite him, no innuendos, no "I Will Put You Down" a la Laezel, he's just... so good, and he believes in your inherent goodness, he so easily sees "you" and "your urges" as wholly seperate entities he would step between if he could.

Speaking of which!! The coronation scene, when everyone finds out you're Bhaalspawn? I never see anyone talking about Wyll's reaction compared to other companions getting angry (even Dark Shadowheart will yell at you) because Wyll seems to be the ONLY PERSON who immediately separates you(the person he knows) from you(the person you used to be). Astarion isn't angry, he even appreciates your scheme freeing him from Cazador, but he also kinda falls into the whole "I will talk to you as if you are the exact same person who did these things, this is Your True Nature and I feel positive about it."

Wyll's reaction feels like the only one saying "You WERE that," instead of "You ARE that." It also feels like the only one that kinda-sorta acknowledges Durge's actual amnesia, because he doesn't treat this revelation like a betrayal the way the other "good" companions do. They be saying "The real evil was hiding within our ranks all along" like wym hiding? Durge didn't know either, how tf they supposed to tell you?

Wyll doesn't even blink. Once he knows what you are, his No.1 priority is reassuring YOU about it. The fact you're Bhaalspawn isn't a betrayal; it's a Horrible Burden and he's sorry you have to bear it, but there have been others like you who were good, who overcame, and your blood isn't who you are. His first instinct is to offer hope, to reassure you that there's a way out, he believes so hard that your urges are a defeatable enemy and he's ready to fight them with you.

(I also fall into the Durge And Gortash Fucked camp, and I cannot overstate the tastiness of Durge waltzing into the coronation of their ex, the Worst Man Alive, while bringing along their new boyfriend, the Best Man Alive)

Idk, I've just never engaged in a romance where I played the part of the Beast. As much as people rag on pure, princely archetypes, I don't actually see them that often. I genuinely don't remember the last time I read/saw a male lead behave like Wyll, but I've seen plenty of Astarions, Fenrises, Rhysands, etc. Romance loves a fixable MMC, but so rarely an MMC who wants to do the fixing.

Anyway. Justice for Wyll or whatever. I can only cross my fingers that future DLC will include more romance content, because we all deserve to have a Beauty for our Beast sometimes.

#bg3 spoilers #baldurs gate 3 #bg3 #baldurs gate spoilers #the dark urge #bg3 durge #durge bg3 #wyll ravengard #wyll x durge #bg3 wyll #baldurs gate wyll #durgewyll

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undreaming-fanfiction · 3 months

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What I Wouldn't Do

This fanfiction is a Valentine's Day exchange gift for the lovely @henderdads. Cass, Eddie absolutely hates Valentine's Day, but for Steve? Well. He's willing to make an exception. Have an amazing Valentine's Day, you deserve it so much!!

Sometimes, it is difficult to reconcile several different truths in our lives.

Eddie currently has this dilemma.

Truth A: Steve Harrington, Eddie Munson’s boyfriend, allegedly loves sappy romantic things, Valentine's Day included.

Truth B: Eddie Munson, Steve Harrington's boyfriend, feels like if the world ever has to end, it should do so on February 14th, for this is the worst day of all days, the day of heart-shaped chocolate that tastes like crap, couples exchanging sweet words and bodily fluids, sometimes even semi-publicly, and don't even get him started about that horrible romantic music.

After swearing on the Munson doctrine he won’t sell his soul to consumerism for anything and anyone but Steve, Eddie Munson decides to ignore Truth B. Steve Harrington deserves the best Valentine's day in the history of this idiotic holiday and Eddie has a hunch, a massive, Everest-sized hunch, that in all of his previous Valentine's days, Steve was always the one to do all the work. His beautiful and brave people-pleasing boyfriend.

Then Eddie realizes another very uncomfortable truth. He has no idea how to celebrate Valentine’s Day. He spent the twenty one-ish years of his existence avoiding the holiday, so now he has to do some research.

He starts small. When they walk together in the Hawkins center, careful not to touch or hold hands because Hawkins still remains a backward hellhole, he notes what Steve looks at. If his eyes linger on a certain flower for a few seconds, he makes a mental note. A mental note means in Eddie's case that he repeats the name of the flower ad nauseum, quickly excuses himself and scribbles it onto his forearm not to forget. He even buys a permanent marker for this. He can't forget anything, not when it's important for Steve.

When Steve asks about the scribbles, he claims it's for the next campaign. He even draws a sword and a shield next to the notes to avoid suspicion.

He asks many questions, most of them under the pretense of helping Gareth with his dates. "I swear, Steve, when he's lovestruck, he gets completely stupid. Not stupid stupid, Gareth's smart, but he can't hold rhythm and we need him to hold it, he's our drummer! So save this suffering aspiring rockstar and tell me, what do you think is the best type of chocolate? Milk chocolate? Okay, and is that like, universal? Did your previous dates like it? I see, a majority then! Sooo...are you a part of that majority?"

Very smooth.

See, Eddie doesn't give a flying demobat about chocolate types, he's more into hard candy. He doesn't like cut flowers, they die anyways because you cut them, how is that fair to that flower, huh? To die for being pretty? And of course, he hates the whole EXPECTATION of Valentine's Day.

But the more he asks, the more he finds out, he doesn't see it as participating in the mindless machinery of lovestruck idiots. Instead, he sees the flush on Steve's cheeks when he talks about dark chocolate with dried raspberries and how his parents once brought it back from dad's trade conference, how it was love at first taste. He scratches out the idea for a bouquet of flowers when Steve mentions he’s always hated them because the flowers are so beautiful and vibrant, but they’re cut for an obligation in their prime. “It sounds stupid when I say it,” he chuckles, “but I want them to live until they’re ugly and withered, you know? They’re worth way more than their looks.”

Eddie could kiss him right there and then. And he does.

He brings it all together, prepares all of Steve’s favorites with a silly twist because it’s Eddie, and Eddie lives for silly things. It really needs to be his favorites because Steve once admitted to him that most people with the exception of Robin and Dustin don’t really know what he likes, they just assume. And Steve is happy that people even thought about him, he thanks them and treasures those things that don’t mean anything to him. To Steve, being thought about is enough.

Well, not to Eddie Munson.

He asks Steve not to plan anything for their Valentine's Day. Or more precisely, he asks him to stay free and available and not worry his beautifully hairy head. He knows that if he didn't say this, Steve would have gone above and beyond for him, he would have likely taken Eddie to a concert with music so loud he’d get a migraine, but he’d suffer through it. So Eddie has to stop that from happening.

On the actual day, Eddie prepares everything. He sends Gareth ("You owe me so much for this. SO MUCH, MUNSON. I actually wanted to watch this tonight!") to rent Steve's favorite movie and goes himself to get access to the Hawkins High with…almost completely legal means, just a little bit of bribing here, some promises for a lengthy D&D campaign there, and of course lots and lots of nougat.

He gathers everything in his van, waits for the kids and the janitor to get out and then starts setting the scene.

There are two more incompatible truths that Eddie Munson grapples with:

Truth A: Eddie Munson fucking HATES the Hawkins High. He wants it to burn down in flames, with only the theater room staying intact.

Truth B: Steve Harrington sometimes wistfully mentions how he wishes he could have dated Eddie Munson in high school. How they’d share lunches, trade secret kisses in the hallways. He wishes himself and the world had been different.

And so Eddie Munson grits his teeth, walks those cursed hallways he only managed to escape a few months back and counts on Robin Buckley to deliver his invitation with flair. “Extra points if you get him a trumpet solo, Buckley!”

Robin apparently delivers because only half an hour after the expected invite, as he is smoking his fifth cigarette - don’t blame the guy, he’s nervous! He’s got a big date! - Steve arrives with a smile that’s equally excited and nervous. He keeps running his fingers through his hair and overall looks just biteable.

Steve walks up to him and brushes his fingers against Eddie’s wrist, discreetly as they have established. It’s their own version of a kiss. “I thought you hated Valentine’s Day?” he asks and he looks so apologetic that Eddie promises to base all villains in his new campaign on all the people who ever made Steve feel he wanted too much.

Eddie glances around, deems it safe and pulls Steve into an actual kiss. "It might be Valentine's day for you, Steve. For me, it's the "Steve Harrington Appreciation Day." He winks at Steve and relishes in the slight blush that has crept into his cheeks. “The name is already registered and all. No changes possible or accepted. Follow me, big boy.”

Steve laughs when he sees a set cafeteria table with something that brings back so many memories. How did Eddie get two portions of school lunch?! The man has to be magical, he decides. They eat together, chat about their day, and then Eddie decides feeding each other is off the table because they’re giggling so much he almost stabbed Steve with the fork.

They walk the hallways together, hand in hand, and Eddie sometimes turns around, sticks his tongue out at an imaginary girl and sneers “back off! He’s mine!”.

Steve turns after Eddie and nods. “What he said,” he whispers and squeezes Eddie’s waist.

Eddie then hands Steve a sports bag he stashed in the changing rooms and winks at him. “What are you waiting for, Harrington? We have some balls to toss! Baskets to score. That.” And before Steve has a chance to protest, he gets his own bag and starts changing into those awfully familiar PE shorts in all their green and white glory.

Steve just watches him, mouth hanging open. “Now I get why I never saw you in these,” he mumbles as he also starts changing. “I would have realized I’m bi like, at that moment.”

But Eddie just laughs and pulls his hair into a loose bun. “Oh, Steve. You have no idea what those shorts on you did to the little closeted me. The thoughts they gave me.”

“Lucky for you, baby,” says Steve and pulls Eddie to his feet, “this time you’re allowed - and strongly encouraged - to both watch AND touch.” Then he cocks his head to the side and adds: “Well. If you score at least one point.”

Eddie tries. Fails. Tries again, even with Steve helping him. Eventually, they settle for a quick game of tic-tac-toe which Eddie wins and happily squeezes Steve’s butt.

Their final destination is the only class they ever shared, history. All desks are empty, except for one - the middle one in the second row, where Steve used to sit. There’s dark chocolate with dried raspberries, Steve’s favorite, and a pot of flowers. Yellow, another favorite.

“The lady in the flower shop said they should live, like, really long,” shrugs Eddie and moves the chair for Steve so he can sit down. “I forgot their name the second I got them, but Buckley knows and she was asked to deliver a booklet with how to care for them.”

Steve drags him down to his level and kisses Eddie, deep and long. He’s either crying or laughing into the kiss, maybe both. “I don’t know what to say,” he whispers into Eddie’s cheek. “All of this…is right. It’s me. You remembered.”

“Eh…kinda. Tried to.” Eddie gives up and lets himself be seated on Steve’s lap. “Actually, I had a small…cheat sheet. Let me show you.”

Steve watches as Eddie takes off his bracelet and watch and sets both on the desk. He gasps as he sees a coiling pattern around Eddie’s wrist, something that looks like a dotted or scratched tattoo all around, but that’s not it. Because then Eddie moves his wrist closer and he can read all the words on Eddie’s skin.

DARK CHOCOLATE WITH RASPBERRIES

NO CUT FLOWERS! YELLOW IS GOOD

COFFEE WITH ONE DROP OF MILK

NO ICE IN DRINKS - TRIGGERS MIGRAINES

BELTS AND SHOELACES - GOOD GIFTS TO WEAR

FREDDIE MERCURY

GOOD OLD FASHIONED LOVER BOY

NO KETCHUP!

STRAWBERRY ICE CREAM

These and so much more. All of Steve’s favorites, all what made him feel like himself, forever preserved in Eddie’s skin.

He buries his head in Eddie’s shoulder and holds him so tight Eddie has trouble breathing, but then he decides that oxygen is overrated. “You’re so crazy,” sobs Steve into his shoulder.

Eddie laughs again into the quiet of their former school. “I know.”

“And I love you so much.”

He kisses Steve’s forehead. “I know. And I love you too. That’s why I had to do this, you know. Because even when I’m old and ugly, just like these flowers will be one day, when I’m senile and can hardly remember my own name, I will look at my hand and I’ll know all that is important.”

Steve holds him even tighter if that’s possible, but maybe oxygen is needed just a little. Eddie gently kisses Steve’s head again and whispers: “We’re not done yet, love. Can you let me go so I can play us a movie? Something nice.”

The arms crushing him loosen their hold and Steve briefly turns away to wipe at his eyes. “Sure. Sorry, I just…this is new for me. But good. So good.”

“You deserve the good. All of it.” Eddie means it. And if seeing Steve appreciated as he should have been all of his life is redeemed by something as mundane as ignoring some truths about himself? Eddie is ready and willing.

As he puts Indiana Jones and the Temple of Doom into the VHS player, he realizes something terrifying - he’s actually LOOKING FORWARD TO THE NEXT VALENTINE’S DAY.

Oh well. Time to adjust the Munson doctrine. After all, it might become a Munson-Harrington doctrine one day, so it deserves some revision.

#steve harrington #eddie munson #steddie #steddie fanfiction #steve x eddie #sweetandspicyexchange

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mj0702 · 14 days

Text

The other Bronze – Part 15

The rest of camp went by like a blur. Sarina continued to include you more and more in the daily tasks of training and organisation of the national team and slowly you found joy in your new role (the added bonus of being allowed to yell at Lucy to run faster or to yell at Leah to bring her knees up higher just played right into it). The dutch Head coach saw with growing pride how you transitioned into your position as her new addition of staff. Getting you to sign the contract was one of a task. You didn't give in easy having the legal department rewrite your contract multiple times adding clauses to protect your relationships – if it was the family relationship with Lucy (and let's be honest Keira) or your romantically relationship with Georgia. You also pushed the limit of salary until the very last penny – not that you were able to access the money since it will go straight in an account which was under observation by your guardian Jill Scott. You yourself had a deal with Jill that if you needed some extra pocket money she would take it out of your account but only if you could give a good reason.

Just like now when you were about to book a whole as bag pipers band to pipe “Scotland the Brave” at exactly midnight outside Sarinas room to welcome her new age – aka her birthday. You knew that your adoptive Mom hated bag pipes with passion since it was too squeaky and too loud in her opinion but since you were technically Scottish you couldn't care less. Also you didn't give a flying fudge (Keira banned any swearword since Less, Toons and you went a little overboard one evening at dinner watching a mens game on the tablet) that you would wake up probably the whole hotel – you loved your Mama Rina too much to care. Of course Jill was straight on board with your shenanigans being a big kid herself. So you spent around two hours looking for the perfect pipers and comparing different prices. You settled on three pipers, an additional drummer and three songs. “Scotland the Brave”, “Auld lang syne” and “When the Saints go Marching in” - all very squeaky and loud. You were sure Mama Rina would love you for your great Birthday present – she'll probably strangle you to death but it was worth it.

You were so happy with your purchase that you entered the dining room whistleing and smiling.

“What got you all smiley Bubs?” your sister asked you smiling too seeing you in a good mood

“Just a good day” you answered smiling even wider

“Why do I feel trouble?” Keira now asked appearing next to you

“Maybe that extra Banana at breakfast?” you looked at her innocently

“No.. no it has nothing to do with the banana” the blonde mused giving you a once over

“You're just being paranoid” you waved her off skipping over to your girlfriend and best friends

“I just know you too well” Keira yelled after you and you (again) waved her off with a “yeah yeah”

“She's up to something” the blonde said turning around to Lucy who was about to stuff a bread roll in her mouth stopping mid air

“Let her be Kei... she's slowly getting back to normal after her episode in Barcelona... you and I both know she's still pretending a lot and me freaking out with G didn't help” Lucy said as she watched you shoving Tooney around laughing loudly when the brown haired girl ran into Leah.

“Oh it certainly didn't... and we WILL have a talk about it when we're back in Spain” the blonde answered sending your sister an angry glare “What were you thinking?”

“I wasn't... I just saw her crying and my brain short circuit...” your sister said slowly

“On one side I understand Luce... I do... because seeing her cry is the worst thing in the world – but you can't do that... you can't lose control like this” Keira said softly

“I know” Lucy huffed finally taking a bite of her bread roll

“I DARE YOU LESS!!” Keira and Lucys eyes snapped immediately over to you when you laughed loudly

“No... NO... you can dare all you want but NO” Lessi answered shaking her head frantically her eyes wide

“You know what that means right??” you smirked evilly at her

“I'm NOT declaring you as me football-wife on Social Media” the blonde huffed

“Then suck it up and eat them” you pointed at the offending vegetables on the plate in the middle of the table

“No” Less whined desperately “Keira please... help” she turned to her teammate begging

“Eat your veggies Less....” Keira rolled her eyes seeing that you three just causing chaos again

“But” the light blonde whined

“Less... I want to eat my lunch in peace” now Leah interrupted her glaring “.... if you won't let me eat in peace I'll shove them Brussels sprouts down your throat by myself”

“Wow.... okay” Lessi looks at her capitan shocked and taken aback “No need to get violent – not me fault you miss your girlfriend”

“Don't” Leah warned her teammate pointing at her threatening

“Let's go over there... she can simmer in her bad mood alone” you said grumbling pulling Lessi along “Bet Millie and Rach are very happy to see us”

“Okay Lee... what's up?” Georgia asked watching you plopp down next to Rachel and on top of Millie

“I do miss my girl... but I'm nervous G... we're playing Spain in three Days and I'm nervous” the blonde spilled her thoughts to her best friend

“It's just a friendly Lee... no need to stress about it okay...” your girlfriend said softly “... we use some of the new plays we trained and you'll Skipper the shit out of that game”

“Thanks G... really” Leah said sighing a little more relaxed “Now please go and get your girl under control” she pointed over to you where you were concentrating on snipping peas at Sarina and some staff members under the low cheering of Millie and Rachel

“Oh shit” Georgia said quickly as she followed Leahs gaze scrambling off towards you

“Okay everyone listen up!!” Sarina said loudly when all the Lionesses were seated “As you know we arranged a friendly against Spain in a couple of days – we'll go over the Line-up later today but I want to inform you beforehand that there will be some significant changes due to our new tactics. I plan on giving everyone some minutes – if not this game than the next one which is four days later. Also I want to announce y/n Bronze as new addition to our Team. She'll be part of our analytics staff and she already showed her value since she pointed out some good moves for us to get past Spains defence”

“And Ona” you threw in chewing on your Steak you got for lunch

“And Ona Batlle yes” Sarina rolled her eyes but everyone saw it was just for show “Don't interrupt me and don't speak with your mouth full... I know you got raised better than this”

“Yes ma'am” you said your voice muffled by the potato you decided to push into your mouth before answering smiling at your adoptive Mom widely

“Walsh.... get your kid under control” the Dutch said and everyone laughed at Keiras offended face

“Excuse me.... the last time I checked she listened to the name Bronze” Keira exclaimed picking up the banter with her head coach

“While that is true I can't really say “Lucy get your kid under control”...” Sarina answered pointing at Lucy who was about to shovel some pasta into her mouth – just like you did with your potato

“It wouldn't be much use” the dutch said flatly and everyone started to laugh as both Bronzes looked up sporting the same caught look with both of your forks mid air

“I get your point” Keira huffed her face deadpan “You two really can't help yourselves can't you”

“What?” both you and Lucy asked confused

“Nothing... you keep on shovelling” Keira said rolling her eyes once more

You and Lucy looked at each other before shrugging your shoulders and continuing eating

“As I said... we have some new tactics which might look strange on paper and will be confusing at first but I like how y/n gets a read on things and thinks outside of the box” the dutch said seriously “You all noticed how I included her more this Camp because I think she's now at a point very we can profit from her exceptional eye and solutions – yes the upcoming games are just friendlies but that won't stop us from playing our best”

“Sorry to interrupt again but.... the food gets cold” you said raising your hand while already talking

“If you wouldn't interrupt me all the time I would be done already” Sarina threw you a warning glance

“Sorry” you mumbled “But... can you maybe... talk faster Mama Rina”

“If you have questions my door is always open” the dutch said her patience running low “You can also ask the new member of staff but I doubt you get a satisfying answer out of her”

Everyone laughed again as you hummed agreeing pushing your vegetables on your girlfriends appetizer plate much to Keiras dismay

“What is THAT??” your girlfriend looked up from her plate pulling a face while you bit your lip to stop yourself from laughing

“Shouldn't you know babe? You ARE half-Jamaican after all” you smirked as the table bursted out laughing

“So funny” Georgia said flatly “How did you pull that off?”

“Just asked the Chef very nicely to make something from home since you miss the Reggae feeling so much” you smirked very happy with yourself

“I will get you back for that” your girlfriend growled “but back to me initial question... WHAT is THAT??”

“How should I know... that's your traditional food” you shrugged your shoulders grinning

“I regret the day you found that video” Georgia grumbled as she stabbed her fork into the brownish-yellowish dish

“You love me too much to actually be mad” you smirked watching how your girlfriend struggles to actually bring the fork to her mouth “And be grateful – they made me feed Toons dog food”

“Dog food??” Georgia asked shocked

“It was chicken paste” Toons rolled her eyes

“I'm 100% positive it was dog food” you countered “they just told you it was chicken so you wouldn't throw up and sue them.... now come on babe... taste it and tell me if it tastes like home” you grinned

“I really REALLY want to kick you right now” your girlfriend grumbles but finally got over herself quickly stuffing the food loaded fork into her mouth

“It's.... actually not bad... It's really good actually” G shrugged her shoulders “It's a curry... I like curries”

“See.... I did something nice for you there....” you grinned

“But what curry.. definitely not chicken” your girlfriend mumbled as she poked the meat on the plate

“Wait... Jesse...” you yelled over to the buffet where some chefs were standing handing out food

“Yes?” one of the shorter ones looked over to you

“What meat is that??” you shouted back lifting your girlfriends plate up

“Goat” came the answer immediately and you could see how Georgias eyes grow wide in shock and you swear you saw her heave for a second there

“Thanks” you said and he lifted his hand in reply

“Was... was he serious?” your girlfriend asked as the colour slowly left her face

“Naah... it's beef” you said having mercy on her

“You are so SO cruel” Georgia mumbled as she picked up another fork shovelling it into her mouth

“It's not beef is it?” Millie leaning over to you whispering in your ear

You just shook your head smirking and chuckle under your breath while Millie laughed.

“What's so funny?” your girlfriend asked suspicious

“Millie asked if I think Carmona finally declares her love for Lucy by asking her out on a date” you lied quickly while Millie looked at you confused but nodded when you kicked her ankle under the table

“Yep,... I mean... it's obvious” the blonde kept nodding

“Oh Ew... guys I'm eating” your girlfriend said her voice laced with disgust

“Yeah well... I would have to live with her...” you shuddered “... Lucy!!!” you turned around in your seat facing your sister

“What??!” your sister looked up alarmed

“You are NOT allowed to reciprocate Carmonas feelings!!!!” you looked at her seriously

“What?!” Lucy looked confused

“I want to keep Ona” you whined

“What the hell are you talking about??” your sister was so lost

You just shook your head in disbelieve turning back around. Your sister looked at you like you completely lost your plot turning to Keira

“What is she talking about?” Lucy asked

“Don't ask me... you speak Bronze better than me...” the blonde shrugged continuing to eat her salad

“What does she want now with Carmona?” your sister looked at Keira lost

“How should I know? I've been here as long as you...” Keira now said a little annoyed “... just chalk it up to her being her and eat”

“Hey what are you talking about?” Lucy said as she pulled your chair around so that you were facing her

Unlucky to her you were just digging into your pasta (your second dish for the day) and with the sudden movement the pasta didn't only spill over Millie but also Lucys face – and the back of Keiras neck who stopped her fork mid-air and by the way her shoulders moved you know there was a storm coming your way. Lucy herself just stood there blankly spaghetti with pesto sauce and antipasti running down her face.

“Ehrm... Lucy you have a little...” you said lowly gesturing towards her face desperately trying to hold in your laughter as a piece of eggplant sliding down your sisters cheek

The whole room was quiet so you could hear a piece of dust dropping like it'd would be a jackhammer. Everyone looked at you, Lucy, Millie and Keira shock on their faces. No one dared to move while you could see Rachel, Ella, Less and Niamh trying to hold in their laughter. Rach shook with silent laughter pulling out her phone recording a small clip for her Instagram of the sliding eggplant – fans would see it later with the caption “perfect SLIDE tackle by Egg Plant Tough Bronze”. Needless to say the fans had a field day with this clip and half the soccer world commented on it. Best comment came from María León herself tagging Ingrid complaining why Lucy was allowed to play with food when she herself wasn't even allowed to build a rice volcano. Ingrid chose to ignore that comment instead asking Lucy if this was her secret to be such an outstanding player.

“Bitsy” you heard Keira growl dangerously low

“It wasn't my fault... Lucy pulled me over” you quickly said as you jumped out of your chair walking backwards away from the blonde who still hadn't moved one inch

“Stay” the blonde said strictly still not moving

You thought quickly about bolting but as usual Keira knew you better

“You can't outrun me... don't even try” she said as she finally put down her fork

“I mean... I can try” you said desperately

“No... you can't... the only way you'd make it out of here is if you'd jump through a window – because I will be faster at the door than you” Keira said as she SLOWLY turned around

“It wasn't me” you said taking another step back hitting something with the back of your knees and suddenly found you in the lap of the one and only Lauren James.

You looked at her she looked at you both of you getting big wide eyes before you jumped up again knocking against Beth chair who lost balance and fell backwards. Only person stopping her hitting the ground was Lotte who reacted quickly grabbing Beth shirt who ripped a bit but held enough so Beth wouldn't end up with a concussion.

“Bitsy.... just stay still for god sakes” Keira said in a warning tone “You'll knock out the whole squad before we even get the chance to play the world cup”

“Sorry” you apologized quickly getting rooted in place “but at least I don't knock you all up”

That did it for Rach, Tooney and Less who bursted out laughing while your girlfriend squeaked quietly blushing again.

“Why do I have pasta on the back of my neck?” Keira asked looking at you expectantly

“Lucy pulled me around as I had me fork full of spaghetti” you explained quickly your Manchester accent coming through – like ever so often when you get nervous.

“Millie?” the blonde gave her teammate a side eye

“Truth... wasn't her fault this time” Brickwall Bright confirmed and now Keira turned towards Lucy narrowing her eyes

“Lucia... with me” the blonde said lowly and your sister shook her head scared “NOW”

“You tell Ona I loved her right?” Lucy looked at you pleadingly knowing she most like won't survive Keiras wrath

“I'll make sure she's taken care of” you nodded “I'll visit her as often as I can”

“Good...” your sister started before there was an angry “LUCY!!” from outside the room

All of you heard the door fell shut and muffled argument from outside it. You actually winced a few times feeling sorry for Lucy – she didn't mean for this to happen either. But Keira had straight rules for eating times. No whining. No argument over food. Only plating as much as you can eat. And NO throwing food – never ever. So her ending up with some courgette in the back of her neck was bad. Bad for Lucy. And in hindsight bad for you because now you have to find something new to eat now. You looked around the room – who at this point got back to light chatter and eating. You spotted Leahs plate who was still fairly full and decided after checking the ingredients that it was worth stealing. So you slandered over patting her right shoulder. The second she turned around looking you quickly snatched the plate with your left hand hiding it behind your back

“Yes y/n?” the blonde capitan looked at you expectantly

“You think Keira will kill Lucy?” you asked as a disguise pouting slightly

“No... you know them... Keira will yell at her – Lucy will look very apologetic and say she's sorry a hundred times and it will be okay again” Leah said softly still not catching up that you stole her plate

“You sure” you asked again just for good measure

“Yes Poppy... I'm sure” Leah smiled soothingly

“Okay... thanks Lee” you said smiling a little turning around walking away quickly

“Poppy!!” you heard Leah call out angry when she realized what you've done

“Love you Capitana” you yell back sitting down at your table between Millie and Toons starting to shovel down Leahs food

“I would've shared with you too, you know babe” your girlfriend said as she watched you not even chewing the food just swallowing it down.

“I know babe... but I didn't want to steal from you” you said with your mouth full which earned you a hard slap on the back from Keira

“Where do you come from?” you asked shocked half the food falling back on the plate as she slapped your head

“From ripping your sister a new one... don't talk with your mouth full or you'll be the next in line” the blonde looked at you angry

“Sorry mom” you apologized after you swallowed the remaining food

“And don't shovel it down your throat like you're starving” Keira scolded you

“But I am...” you started to get shut down by a glare from the blonde which made you shrink in your chair

“Damn... Walsh has it out for the Bronzes” Tooney mumbled under her breath but not quiet enough for Keira not to hear

“I can expand my list, Toone” Keira barked out

“Kei...” you looked at her scared

You saw Keira take a deep breath before looking at you

“Sorry Bitsy” the blonde features soften “Your sister just pushed a button”

“Can we talk please” you said lowly your eyes never leaving hers

“Come” was the only thing Keira said already walking away

Outside the door she waited for you as you closed the door quietly behind you

“What's wrong Kei? I mean you're kinda mean when you're on your period but that was... two weeks ago” you said keeping your distance from her

“I honestly don't know Bitsy... and getting smacked by antipasti in the back of my neck certainly didn't help” the blonde huffing

“You miss your girl?” you ask fishing for pointers on Keiras bad mood

“Too, yes... but all around it tires me out... I don't know why” Keira sighed deeply “and Spain in three days?? Even more tiring”

“You need a break huh?” you asked understanding “is a lot lately”

“Yeah... but I won't get a break until end of season” the blonde started to massage her temples

“I could kick your ankle” you offered

“No thanks Bitsy” Keira laughed “But thank you for the kind offer”

“No problem” you smiled “But seriously – I can take you out of the starting XI... give you a little break at least”

“In all seriousness... that would be very appreciated” the blonde sighed out happily “Wait... how do you know who is starting XI?”

“Who do you think put the XI together? Mama Rina left it all up to me – it's just a friendly and I have few ideas I want to try out” you shrugged your shoulder

“You are exceptional Bitsy....” Keira smiled at you and pushed some lose hair out of your face “... never lose your light”

“Jesus Kei... I'm not dying” you rolled your eyes

“No... but you're young and the position you just took on brings a lot of pressure with it...” the blonde said and you heard her serious tone “... don't lose your light”

“I'll do my best” you offered a smile “I don't even know how long I'm gonna stay... at the moment it's still fun... so yeah – let's see”

“Good” Keira nodded happily “You want to go back?”

“Not really no... Lunch was a mess... and left me hungry” you pouted

“I tell Sarina.... you want me to send G after you?” the blonde winked

“You would do that? What about Luce?” you looked at her with big pleading eyes

“Just play along...” Keira smirked and before you could respond what she meant the blonde started yelling at you “WHO DO YOU THINK YOU ARE TO COMMENT ON A TOPIC THAT IS ABSOLUTLEY NOT YOUR BUISNESS”

“I JUST ASKED” you yelled back not knowing what Keiras plan is

“GET OUT!” the blonde yelled but smiled at you “That should be enough to get your sister of your case – she knows better than to question me... now go and send G your location...”

You pressed a sweet kiss to Keiras cheek before running off. Keira watched you rounding the first corner before she took a deep breath put on her game face and shoved the door to the dining room open aggressively. She was met with the sight of scared face from her teammates and smirked internally.

“What?” Keira barked and all newbies quickly ducked their heads not wanting to upset the veteran any further

“Jesus Kei” Georgia looked at her best friend confused “Leave the kiddos alone”

“Sorry... YOUR girlfriend just pissed me off” the blonde growled but winked at G subtly

“I go talk to her” your girlfriend huffed out already pushing herself out of her chair immediately catching on what Keira tried to tell her

“Wait... I'll come too” Lucy quickly said trying to stand up as Keira pushed her back down

“You sit” the blonde said lowly

“Yes ma'am” Lucy mumbled sitting down again

“Okay Ladies” Sarina said loudly getting everyones attention “Time to talk game tactic”

You were sitting between Georgia (who subtly intertwined your pinkies) and Tooney who yapped about some dog she saw at the park earlier.

“I worked closely with our new addition..” the dutch started before you interrupted her – again

“My parents gave me a name you know... and it's not “new addition”...” you huffed annoyed until you saw Sarina smirk

“Not?” the dutch smirked knowing from Keira of your little game so you could get away at Lunch – without informing the head coach

“I mean I got called a lot of names over the years... but “new addition” wasn't one of them” you smirked back engaging in the banter with your “boss”

“I spoke with y/n” Sarina rolled her eyes for good measure “... we – agreed...”

“Agreed? I told you what would help us win and you said “do it”....” you interrupted again knowing no one else would get away with it

“We AGREED to try a few new things when we play against Spain” the dutch ignored you expectantly “We will start with a.... wait why am I talking about this... Liefje why don't you come up here and take over?”

“What?!” you looked at her shocked shaking your head lightly

“Come on” Sarina waved you to the stage smiling “It's your tactic – you worked hard on it so you get to explain it”

You let out a big breath as Georgia squeezed your hand offering silent support before you pushed yourself up and walking up the stage standing next to your Mama

“Okay Ladies and Lucy” you said loudly waiting for your sisters signature “Hey!!!” before you continued smiling “I spent a LOT of time analysing games... plays... players... last Euros was good.. all of you played amazing BUT as Sarina said before – it was close... if you strip it down to just the play Spain WAS the better team... you got lucky with Alex goal in overtime.... REALLY lucky... Toons that leader was world class but Spain bounced back because ALL of you felt too secure for a second... I know this is just a friendly but we'll play it like it's the final again – we're back on home soil, we play Spain again but we'll... throw them off a little... so I still have some painkillers left from me wrist injury – we split them up and then I'll let you run lose... that will throw at least the Barca department off...” you grinned as Lucy groaned

“It was a mistake okay... I AM sorry” your sister said while Keira chuckled beside her

“You have to do more than say you're sorry Bronze...” you smirked “... I want that world cup”

“I'll do my best okay” Lucy smiled at your display of competitiveness

“Okay... so back to the game... we're playing at Old Trafford this time... who's idea that was? Mine – I just love that place and it hold a lot of history... So tomorrow we're moving up to Manchester whoever has problems with it... suck it up or leave” you simply said and Sarina snorted next to you “For tactics... we're going back to the roots of football... like... waaay back – we're gonna play a “Scottish furrow”... anyone any idea what that is... the dinosaur in the room maybe...??” you look straight at your sister smirking cheeky

“Oh get lost...” Lucy threw at you smiling back at you feeling happy about how much you obviously enjoy your new role

“Anyone... Scottish furrow??” you asked into the room looking from player to player

The younger ones shook their head embarrassed as the veterans wrecked their brain have heard of it before but couldn't place it. You looked at Sarina for help.

“It's a 2-3-5 formation... it's dubbed a little outdated but as y/n said – it's back to the roots” Sarina explained before nodding towards you telling you to take over again

“Spain is overall Goliath... they have a VERY strong defence, a quick working midfield and ruthless forwards... we're David in this scenario so we have to play more tactical – we'll have fast forwards a intelligent midfield AND a Brickwall of defence so our Keeper hopefully will have a relaxed game... Mary pack a book because if your Team does its job like I tell them to do it you won't have a single shot on target” you said seriously but joked as well – you started to really enjoy the situation of talking about tactics

“A 2-3-5?” Leah asked confused “How will that work with our playing style?”

“Easy... we let them run into the brickwall – not Millie but the whole defence – take the ball off them and use the momentum in our favour and just.... run” you answer looking at Leah serious “Spain will think they dictate the game... the pace... the tactic... the ball... but you guys will let them run into the wall every time... Spain is thankfully a opponent that gets frustrated easily... the second they start getting frustrated and sloppy is the second we switch back to a 3-3-4 and kill em... if my calculations are correct and the bring the line up I expect them to bring we should get out of this friendly at least 5 – 0”

“5 – nothing??” Lucy exclaimed shocked

“Yes... and we don't even have to bring the A+ team... we need A+ defence... midfield and forwards can be newbies... so whoever wants their first cap against Spain... come find me after the meeting... I set up a preliminary line up but I already have a change in midfield since Keira is out for the game” you said honestly your eyes not leaving your sisters

“Kei... you okay?” Leah immediately turned around to her best friend concerned

“Just tired Lee...” the blonde smiled back weakly “Talked to Sarina Jr. over there and she offered to take me out of the line up which I seriously appreciate”

You swell with pride when Keira referred to you as “Sarina Jr” knowing how much respect the team has for the dutch head coach.

“You need to remember Leah... she's one of the old ones now...” you smirked as Keira threw you a playful glare

“We don't comment on players ages” Sarina told you off flicking your ear lightly “We call it experience”

“Sorry... my bad... she's experienced Leah.... she want's to give the chance to the younger players to get.... experience too” you smirked

“I can make her run laps in your name K” Leah offered helpfully

“I can make her run laps in my own name too Lee” Keira laughed and you swallowed hard knowing just how well Keira could make you run laps

“My knee...” you said carefully

“Don't even try Bitsy... your sister is the one with the bad knee” the blonde smirked

“Hello.... three ACL's” you exclaimed outraged which caused everyone in the room to burst out laughing

“Oh don't even start... your knees where fine when you ran away from Alexia a few days ago” Keira rolled her eyes still smiling

“She didn't leave me a choice” you defended yourself

“She left you the choice of not running off” Lucy threw in

“Yeah like you would've stayed when Alexia Putellas threatens you” you snorted

“Even Mapí doesn't dare to run away from Capi” your sister said “So why did YOU think you could outrun her? You don't even know your way around Nuo”

“Well... I didn't really think... I acted on instinct” you said like it was obvious

“Well your instinct ended your ass in the gym with La Reina” Lucy smirked and turned to Leah “When Ale delivered her back all she did is sleep... for TWELVE hours”

“I need that workout... can you ask her? The possibility of shutting your sister up for twelve hours straight is just a dream come true” Leah laughed at your offended face

“Oh look... Leah doesn't want to play against Spain” you grinned looking at Sarina who just shook her head smiling

“You wouldn't dare to bench me Poppy...” the blonde capitan smirked back happy that the team got back to it's bantering self

“Oh but I would.. because according to my contract I'm allowed to make decisions about the team, the tactics AND the players – all in agreement with the head coach herself of course” you smirked and pulled out your contract “So yes... I can bench you... because I think I saw you having some discomfort in your knee sitting down... right?”

“You little shit” Leah laughed knowing you weren't serious

“Learned from the best” you smirked looking at your sister who smiled proudly “Back to business... 2-3-5... Chloe and Meado up top... I like the way you two work … Hillary... congratulations to your first Cap... you'll get flanked by Franny and J-Park... defenders... Millie and Leah MidDef – Luce on the right, Alex on the left... Lotte you're my false 6... “ you said looking at every single player waiting for their okay before moving on to the next one

“A false 6?” Keira asked confused

“Yeah... I want Lotte to be the connection between midfield and defence” you explained “throw the spaniards a little off... you'll run a lot Lotte is that okay?”

“Sure... I'm fit” the defender smiled

“Okay... if you get tired ask for a sub... J-Cart can come in for Alex and Alex moves up... that is if we're not back to the 3-3-4 at this point anyway – it's still just a friendly... no need to kill yourselves out there” you said and Sarina smiled proudly.

You did an exceptional job. You really took your job very seriously and still you made sure to explain your decision to make it understandable why you were starting players over others and you still had the lightness of a teenager

“Depending on if Spain takes out bait we make two subs at half … Stanway for Clinton – believe me Hillary... 45 Minutes is more than overwhelming for a first cap and Toons for Franny” you kept going with your game tactic feeling comfortable and honestly free talking about something which gave you the feeling of being part of the team

“Sounds good...” Sarina smiled approvingly “... what are your other subs?”

“Around 70th/75th minute... James for Chloe... Less for Meado... I would leave one slot open IF something happens...” you turned towards the head coach

“So you leave the defence like it is... who's in Goal?” the dutch tested your plan

“I actually just changed my mind... Mary... you have the day off... Hampton... if you're up to it?” you looked at the young Goalkeeper

“Yes... yes I'm up for it” the young woman smiles and nods her head frantically

“See... that's the enthusiasm I want” you grinned “None of you asshats were as happy as she is right now”

“Because she doesn't know you as well as we do” Lucy threw in

“Esme... you start against Spain... congratulations... Luce... I think a saw an old camping chair standing around at home... you have enough time to go home and get that chair since you won't put a foot on the pitch” you smiled sweetly and this time Keira bursted out laughing at your sisters face

“You can't...” Lucy exclaimed but you interrupted her

“Oh but I can..” you sing-songed waving your contract

“Sarina” your sister whined

“I gave her the lead for this... her call” the dutch shrugged smiling widely

“Oh come ooooon” Lucy whined again which caused the older players in the room to chuckle

“What... thinking about it I do you a favor... now you can drool over your girlfriend the whole 90 Minutes...” you smirk

“Sometimes I really wish we wouldn't have turned around when Dad forgot you in Tesco” your sister mumbled

You stepped through the tunnel onto the pitch at Old Trafford. You loved that Stadium – even if it's the home of United and you yourself grew up as a City-girl. This place held so many amazing Stories and Memories. You turned once around yourself looking at the still empty seats that in a few hours will contain nearly 75.000 fans – it was just a friendly but the tickets were gone in just under two hours. One of your dreams back then when you were still playing was to play a derby against United right here – Old Trafford. 74.310 seats and all of them will be manned/womend tonight. You remembered the last Derby you attended with Lucy. You had a small smile playing on your lips remembering the crowd, the cheers and chants, the game itself – it was like it happened yesterday.

“Hey” you heard softly behind you and it made you jump for a second

You whipped around and came face to face with your sister

“You okay?” Lucy asked softly

“Yeah... just got a little emotional here... remembered the last time we were here you know... before you left for Spain” you answered quietly

“Was a physical match... Tobin and Christen for United...” Lucy smiled and looked ahead towards the seats

“... Chloe got a stupid yellow... that wasn't a yellow... oh.. and G played left forward... wasn't it the first Derby for the Tower of Power too?” you chuckled

“Sammy Mewis? Yeah... I remember her coming out of the tunnel and nearly fell into it backwards because she didn't expect the fans to scream like they did... she tried to hide behind Rose for a hot minute there” your sister laughed lightly

“I love Rose but damn... she was shiny with the spotlights... told Gareth to put her in – she would have blinded Mearpsi with her reflective skin and bam... goal... but no” you rolled your eyes but smiled

“You always have these backhanded compliments... where do you get them from?” your sister laughed

“Lots and lots of training” you grinned “When are the spaniards arriving?”

“Already in Manchester... for a few hours now... you want to go and say hi to them?” Lucy smiled softly taking your hand

“You think Alexia would appreciate us crashing their Lunch?” you smirked

“Absolutely not... we're gonna wait in the Lobby until they're done and then quickly say hi” your sister laughed

“Yeah... why not? Where they're staying??” you shrugged your shoulders knowing Lucy tried to get you out of your sentimental state

“Hilton Garden Inn” Lucy said after checking her phone

“Ona?” you smirked

“Sí” your sister smiled back

“Wait... isn't that at the old cricket grounds?” you wrecked your brain

“Yes... it's nice apparently” Lucy shrugged not letting go of your hand

“Are we allowed to leave?” you suddenly asked looking around

“Sarina was the one calling me after seeing you out here... she said as long as were on time for the game we're good to go” your sister smiled softly

“Off to the spaniards then” you started running off pulling Lucy after your

“Remember Bubs... we don't cause troub... BUBS!!” Lucy yelled after you as you sprinted off towards the dining area

“I fucking knew it” your sister grumbled as she speed walked after you hearing you already flinging the heavy doors open

“Buenos Aires Motherfuckers!!!” you screamed as you pushed threw the big heavy double-door “I'm back!!”

There were different reactions to your entrance. Some of the spanish players screamed in horror, some nearly chocked on their food and some jumped up and took cover behind the tables

“A la mierda y/n!!!” Alexia exclaimed after she looked shocked over the edge of the table she cowered behind

“I said Buenos Aires... I made meself known” you smirked at the sight of the spanish national team in distress

“You storm inside her, interrupt our Lunch and scare us to DEATH for what exactly? And it's too late for Bon dia Cariño” Alexia now stood up glaring at you

“Lucy said we can go say hi so we did... and I didn't mean bon dias... I meant the other one... the Buenos Aires... your Olga said it” you shrugged your shoulders grinning

“Ay dios mio... my headache is suddenly back...” the blonde spaniard mumbled but in secret she was glad to see you “And it's Buenos tardes.... not Buenos Aires”

“Then that... Buenos tartlets motherfuckers” you said again grinning widely

“Nena!!!!” you suddenly hear from your left and found yourself laying on the ground a second later with someone on top of you

“María!!” you heard a voice from above you and the weight got pulled off you

“What just happened?” you asked confused as Ona helped you up

“Mapí wreckingballed you... she does that sometimes when she gets excited” your sisters girlfriend dusted you off a little bit before offering you a smile “You good?”

“Sí” you mumbled still a little bit confused

“Look at you speaking spanish” the short defender smiled warmly opening her arms inviting you in for a hug

“Putellas was adamant about it” you mumbled against Ona after you accepted her hug

“Okay Mapí...” you heard Alexia behind you “I told you what would happen if you misbehave again...”

“What she doing” you sack against Ona relaxing for a second

“Oh Mapí was a little over the top the whole camp... and since not even extra laps got her to calm down Alexia approaches the problem differently now” Ona answered smiling at how much you were leaning against her “What's up with you Bebita? You look exhausted”

“You guys are exhausting” you mumbled suddenly feeling extremly tired

“Us? We didn't do anything” the short blonde chuckled

“She means your games” you reconized your sisters voice behind you

“Disculpe?” Ona chuckled

“Again with the dislocation...” you mumbled as you get transferred into Lucys arms

“I'm NOT going to wear... Alexia... por favor” you heard Mapí beg “por favor la reina”

“Jenni... ayudame por favor” Alexia said holding Mapí police hold

“León... quédate quieto y acepta tu destino” you heard Jenni growl and immediately sink more into Lucy

“She's not angry with you... what's up with you anyway?” Lucy soothed you after she realize you shrink away from Jennis voice

“Tired” you mumbled

“She can sleep for a bit in my room” Ona offered

“Bubs... you wanna sleep with Ona?” your sister asked half quietly as suddenly four heads snapped in her directions and you were wide awake again

“Scuse me?” you chocked out

“NOT like that you...” your sister huffed out annoyed

“I mean I know you're not shy when it comes to our sex...” Ona started before you interrupted her

“LALALALALALALA!!!” you yelled loudly wrenching your fingers into your ears to blend out the rest of Onas sentence and screw your eyes shut walking away from your sister – and straight into Jenni Hermoso.

You stumbled back a little bit as you opened one eye seeing the tall dark haired spaniard smirking at you raising her eyebrow

“You were more smooth when you were high” Jenni smirked

“HUH??” you asked loudly your fingers still in your ear

Jenni rolled her eyes smiling grabbing your right hand pulling it away from your finger

“High you is smoother” she grinned

“Sober me has better taste” you shot back

“Sober you doesn't like me no?” Jenni teased you

“I can't answer that....” you swallowed hard

“So sober you DOES like me” the black haired said smirking

“Jenni stop teasing the Cariño” Alexia interrupted swatting her friends shoulder “She has a girlfriend”

“Interesting” Jenni smirked wriggling her eyebrows at you

“Indeed...” you coughed out before you laid eyes on Mapí and bursted out laughing “WHAT are you wearing??”

There she was – Mapí León in all her spanish glory... strapped in a Dino-Harness.

“This is all your fault” Mapí huffed

“Moi??” you asked confused

“Yes... YOU have one and that's why I have one now” María looked at you with betrayal in her eyes

“Then it's Lucys fault” you pointed at your sister “she's the one getting Bronzo in the first place!”

“Because you kept running off!!” Lucy defended herself “You still do”

“Why are you here?” Alexia asked your sister “You know it's not really common to visit the opponent before the game”

“She got a little emotional and I thought bringing her here would help – and it did... you guys don't even realize how much you help her” your sister said her voice low so you won't catch on while you were busy wrestling with Mapí around on the floor getting cheered on by Pina

“Ale... Puedes por favor controlarlos?” Aitana asked after you repeatedly kicked her chair trying to find leverage over Mapí both of you laughing

“Jenni... por favor” the blonde spaniard looked at her teammate who just sighed and walked towards you and Maps

“How was she the last two weeks?” Ona asked as she watched Jenni trying to split you two apart

“Rollercoaster.... she had a lot of fun with Less and Toons... and then she fell again and Keira had to drag her out of bed – it helped a lot that Sarina got her to agree to work for the Lionesses” your sister said keeping her voice low so just Ona and Alexia could hear her “And I may have played a part in her moody days” she confessed embarrassed

“What did you do?” Ona asked raising her eyebrow at Lucy

“I may – or may not – have threatened her girlfriend...” your sister scratched the back of her neck

“You WHAT??” Ona whisper yelled “I swear to god Lucia”

“We sorted it out... I just – I need to make sure she's protected okay” Lucy said “She's my baby sister”

“I get it... you know... Alba... the first partner she brought home – I made them run for the hills... threatened the shit out of them.. and had Jenni just stare at them from the other side of the room – for the whole night” Alexia chuckled

“But Albas first partner wasn't your exes best friend and technically your good mate too” Lucy mumbled

“No.. but I get why you're so... y/b Bronze... Ay dios – put that down!!!” Alexia started before she saw you holding a potato like you were a pitcher sizing up the distance between yourself and Olga Carmona.

Jenni was quick to react after she sat Mapí next to Irene who just fixed the younger spaniard with one glare

“No little one... we don't throw potatoes” the black haired spaniard said as she towered over you

“It's a boiled one?” you asked innocently

“No...” Jenni said smiling sweetly “... no throwing potatoes... boiled or not”

“You suck” you huffed annoyed

“And you wish” the dark haired one shot back smirking and you swallowed hard again – the second time in just under an hour

“Bubs... come on... we have to go” you heard Lucy from the other side of the room

You looked up from where you were hunched over the table with Mapí building some Lego figures

“Just five more minutes” you whined “We're nearly done”

“No Bubs.. now... we have to get ready – they have to get ready... come on... I told you we'll leave after an hour” your sister said firmly

“But” you started to whine again what caused some of they players to chuckle

“No... “ Lucy interrupted you “Get your Bag and come on”

“I...” you started confused “... don't have a bag with me?”

“Oh... right... sorry... I just had a flashback from all the times I had to pick you up from kindergarten” your sister said a little embarrassed

“I bet you were a cute pequeño” Alexia laughed pinching your cheeks

“She was a menace from Day 1... her birth was chaos... from the moment she entered this world it was chaos... no wait... she was chaos before that...” Lucy said as she watched you trying to fight Alexias hands off

“Am not” you grunted as the blonde spaniard continued to pinch your cheeks

“You were, are and always will be... which doesn't matter now because we need to leave” your sister answered

“Then tell her to stoooop” you whined

“Capi.... we need to leave” your sister grinned

“See you after the game Cariño” Alexia smirked and pressed a kiss to your forehead

“Can Mapí come too?” you looked at Alexia and Lucy hopefully

“Not now... you will see her later at the game and AFTER the game you can run around with her a little bit okay” Lucy tried to coax you away from Maps who clutched onto your hand

“Why not now?” you whined again

“Because Mapí needs to get ready for her game too... and we need to get ready at our hotel” your sister knew she had to stay calm otherwise you would just throw a big ass tantrum

“This sucks” you huffed but stood up

“Thank you Bubs... I promise you can play Lego later with Mapí” Lucy smiled as she put her arm over your shoulder leading you away from the spanish team

74.310. 74.310 fans – sold out Old Trafford. You were standing next to Sarina in the locker room and heard every single one of them. You knew Sarina gave you the freedom to do whatever you thought was right at this game and you knew the Team waited for the pre-game talk but all you could do was relishing that moment. Your eyes were closed, a small smile on your lips and you listened to the chants from above you. You took a deep breath before straightening up again.

“okay... I know this is just a friendly but I want all of you to treat it like it's the world cup final. Out there are 74.310 fans who are here for YOU... you had a good camp and we have a good play and we have the best team. Let all of them fans see that – let them enjoy that evening and make it an unforgettable experience for them. Let's paella the shit out of them tapas shovelling shrimp eater” you said loudly smirking at the end of your little speech

You send your team outside high-fiving every single one (except for Mearps because her high-fives hurt) before you took your place next to Sarina at the end of the Starting XI. You saw Alexia who was wearing the captains armband and winked at her when she turned around. She rolled her eyes for good measure before turning back and you saw the shift in her posture – she was in game mode. Who you couldn't spot in the line up was Mapí. You were confused for a second since you were 79% sure she would start as well. Sarina nudged your shoulder a lightly and brought your focus back to your own team.

“Sorry” you mumbled and hung your head

“It's okay Liefje... I know it can get overwhelming but I need your focus here right now – if it gets too bad let Keira or Lucy know okay... or Georgia” the blonde said softly as the line up started to move

“Nothing to be sorry about, Liefje... you are doing amazing – you are 16 and still a Ki...” Sarina said softly as you suddenly found yourself getting pushed forward onto the ground

“Hola mi nena” you heard from above you and all you could do was grunt

“Hi Maps... why??” you whined

“I just misseded you so much” the blonde spaniard said from above you

“Excuse me, León... could you please get off my analyst?” Sarina said a little confused

“Wait... I'll get it sorted...” you grunted from underneath Mapí “Lucy!! HELP!!”

Seconds later Lucy came sprinting back from the pitch tackling the spaniard off you both of them rolling in one big ball of limbs over the ground

“I told you not to do that León...” your sister growled after she pinned Mapí to the ground “Who's on the bench today?”

“Leila... Aitana... Athenea... Alba...” Mapí listed off

“So... the A-Team” you laughed which caused Sarina to smirk while Mapí didn't get it and just looked at you confused

“Because all of them start with an A” you tried to explain your “joke”

“That was a shit joke you muppet” Lucy rolled her eyes and pushed herself off Mapí

“At least I make jokes...” you snapped back as Sarina helped you back to your feet

“I get Aita to watch you León..” your sister pointed at the small spaniard who looked like a kicked puppy

“Por favor no... they'll put that stupid thing around me again” the blonde whined

“You have a T-Rex!!!! I have a bronto!!! Yours is so much cooler” you exclaimed

“Which reminds me... come here Bubs...” Lucy grinned

“You can't be serious!!!” you took a small step back

“Come here Bubs” your sister cooed “Bronzo time”

“Old Trafford is SOLD OUT!! And you want to strap me down??!!” you tried to hide behind Sarina “74.310 tickets SOLD!!!”

“Look... I don't need you running on the field trying to have a go at the ref – I also don't want to hold your hand the whole time because you probably would just pull you with me” Lucy said still smirking “So yes – I am gonna tie you to the bench and know you won't cause trouble... Keira is with me on that one”

“You all suck” you grumbled but let Lucy pull the straps expectantly over your arms locking them on the back

“I honestly didn't think you would give up that easily” your sister smiled once she attached the leash

“I want that Mapí has to wear hers too” you stayed rooted in your place crossing your arms over your chest

“I'll sort it out okay... but now you hop off to Kei...” Lucy ruffled through your hair handing the leash off to Sarina

“Come on Liefje” the dutch said lovingly tugging slightly on the offending string

On your way out Irene Paredes passed you with long powerful strides and you saw a harness clutched in her hand which made you grin. A minute later you heard Mapí exclaiming loudly in spanish and you even heard a few spanish swear words. It made you chuckle and got you into a better mood knowing you wasn't the only one the fans will make fun off.

“Hey Bitsy” Keira greeted you softly as you plumped down next to her

“I hate Lucy... I'm gonna put her in as a forward... or in goal” you mumbled

Keira bursted out laughing pulling you into her side pressing a kiss to your forehead – unknowns to you a lot of camera lenses were pointed towards you and that exactly that picture will go viral.

“Lucy in goal? I would pay to see that” Keira smiled knowing exactly why you were so grumpy.

“How much would you pay?” you suddenly perked up

“I would make sure you'll have some quality time with a certain blonde?” Keira smirked amused

“Deal” you quickly said pulling Keiras hand out of her pocket grabbing it quickly shaking it

“It's okay Bitsy... I would have done it anyway – you reacted so grown up with everything thrown at you this camp you deserve a little treat...” the blonde said softly

“I did, didn't I?” you smiled looking onto the pitch where Alexia and Leah stepped up to shake hands

“If I look over your pranks on LJ, Georgia, Leah, Beth and I'm pretty sure Alex wasn't a ginger this morning” Keira smirked

“They weren't pranks... that's love language...” you said embarrassed

“You call it love hiding LJ's clothes while she's in the shower so she has to wait in St. Georges Park until someone got some spare from the Hotel? Put itching power in her bed? Stealing all her left socks? Ordering pizza for the whole staff on her credit card? Not even to start with the laxative in her breakfast on the third day” the blonde raised her eyebrow at you

“Don't know what you're talking about, Kei...” you look at her innocently

“Course you don't Bitsy...” the blonde laughed “... but you should pay attention now – games is about to start”

You looked back over to the pitch seeing Spain won the coin toss and decided to play from left to right – which mean England had the kick off. You're eyes found the way to the spanish bench seeing Mapí being tied up to a post next to Irene as Lucy made her way over grinning widely as she took a seat behind you. Sarina sat on the outside of the row not seeing the point in interrupting right now since nothing had happened so far.

“You good Bubs?” Lucy asked from behind you

“Never been better” you grinned and Keira saw the glint in your eye

The game kicked off and you saw how Spain got thrown off a little bit already by your chosen formation and you smirked to yourself. Your plan worked perfectly – even if Hermoso and Paralluelo made it through the midfield they always ran into your defence brickwall. At one point Hannah even turned around to wave at fans and stood next to the goal for pictures. She was teasing the spanish players. Olga Carmona was lost since she couldn't mark Lucy – who sat behind you on the bench and Esme was not known enough to Carmona to place her playing style. Poor Olga wasn't having the best day.

It was in the 14th minute where Fran Kirby delivered a beautiful pass to Chloe who saw Beth running with her into an open space and directed the ball a forward where Beth just had to chip it into the back of the net. You jumped up just like everyone else screaming just as loud as the Lioness fans. Beth came running over to the bench signalling you to come up to the line and the second you did she pulled you into a hug – both of you staying on your side of the pitch

“This is yours pumpkin... this is your goal” Meado whispered into you hair and pressed a loving kiss to your forehead before she sprinted off again going back into her position.

You looked up to the orange sky as the sun set trying to control the tears who threatened to spill out of your eyes. Sarina stepped up next you laying her arm around your shoulders just offering silent support knowing how much this meant to you. Suddenly you felt Keiras hand on your other shoulder, Lucys hands on your waist and Georgias hand sneaking into yours. Weeks later it would be that exact same picture that would be seen as Lucys lock screen at a Barca video.

Spain kicked off again and you smirked seeing how they started to lose their temper already. Alexia tried to keep her players level headed but especially the younger ones like Salma tried the “head through the wall”-technique all the time. Again and again she'll run into the wall even if there where three players running with her one of them in a perfect position to at least get a shot at goal. But you expected something like that but to your surprise it happened faster than you thought. In minute 35 Millie rocket the ball way into the spanish half for Clinton to pick it up getting it to J-Park who put it into the box for Fran who just volleyed past Cata. Sarina pulled you immediately into a big hug and even Fran pointed over to you which got noticed by Alexia who realized that it was your doing that her team was struggling.

It made her so angry and proud at the same time. She saw how her team was slowly falling apart and she couldn't do NOTHING about it because of you. You placed your players perfectly and the formation you chose was just impossible to break – even if they got past your midfield your defence stood like... yes like a brickwall. Alexia saw her team getting frustrated. She needed to do something but she couldn't think of a solution. When Fran Kirby scored the second goal for england and pointed over to you it just made her blood boil. She loved you. She would give her life for you. But right now she wanted to strangle you – publicly. VERY publicly. Jenni came over to her best friend

“What are we gonna do, Capi?” the dark haired asked

“I... I don't know... this is y/n going” the blonde seethed back “I don't know what to do – I don't know how she's thinking”

“Trust your stomach Capi... but it doesn't help the team if you freak out” Jenni said softly squeezing Alexias biceps

“Let us get through the first half... and try scoring... isn't that what you get paid for?” Alexia smiled at her best friend

“Feed me good balls and I'll score” the dark haired one smirked before turning around jogging back into her position

“Oh so it's my fault” Alexia yelled after Jenni smiling

Just three minutes Leah passed the ball to Lotto who took off like a lightning surprising the spanish players once again. She passed Alexia like Speedy Gonzales which caused the spanish capitan to needed a second to realize what happened before sprinting after Lotte yelling spanish commands to her defence. Lotte saw Chloe wide open at the far post, Cata off her line so Lotte did what everyone would do – she pulled her leg back and bolted through the ball. Cata did exactly what Lotte wanted – she came even further off her line. Lotte kicked the a perfect curve ball to Chloe who headed into the back of the net. 3 – 0. The Lionesses were destroying the spanish National team. When you saw Lottes curve ball you already were out your seat – with Keira holding on to your leash tightly – screaming loudly. Chloe came running over to you as well and you did your special city-handshake. You saw Alexia hanging her head low and you felt sorry for her. You could see that the blonde felt guilty for letting Lotte past so easily.

In the 43rd minute even Ona lost her plot committing a foul against Jess Parker which should have been a yellow card – at least in your opinion. You jumped out of your seat starting to yell at the ref from the side-line

“Oy ref.... that's a yellow!!!!” you yelled angrily

“Calm down Bitsy” Keira said softly trying to pull you back on your leash but you were so in your zone you didn't even notice her

“Oy... OY ref you blind moron!!!” you yelled again and this time you got the refs attention as she looked over to you as you grabbed Sarinas glasses of her nose “You need some glasses so you can actually SEE a foul when it's happening??”

Lucy tried to do damage control by putting her hand over your mouth pulling you backwards while you heard Mapí scream from the spanish bench.

“You tell her nena!!! That's my nena!!!” the small spaniard cheered you on not even caring that the foul was committed by her team resulting in a free kick for the Lionesses.

But it was already to late as the ref already was walking over to you. You sized her up standing a little taller on your toes as she already pulled a yellow card from her chest pocket holding it up over your head.

“This is an official warning” she said to you as you continued to glare at her not able to talk back as Lucy still had her hand over your mouth

“Sorry ref... it's her first game and she's a little emotional” Sarina tried to calm the situation signalling your sister to get you back to the bench who immediately understood and janked you backwards so you lost your balance and she had an easier job getting you away.

Meado and Leah stepped up to the free kick both looking over at you for instruction on who should take the free kick. You held up five fingers and signed for top left. You made sure that all the players knew your signs beforehand so Leah nodded barely noticeable winking at you. She quickly talked to Beth who quickly looked over to you smirking. As the whistle blew Meado started to run up to the ball but running over it while Leah came a step behind her kicking the ball in the top left corner making it 4 – 0 for England. This time you just smirked nodding satisfied. Leah came over to you smirking as well as she stood opposite to you and both of you taking a bow at the same time. Every goal the Lionesses scored today they'll dedicate to you – it was Sarinas wish and the team immediately agreed. This was your doing. This was YOUR game.

The first half ended with a defeated spanish team and a happy english team. The players tickling into the locker room in the best mood chatting happily until you climbed up on a bench whistleing loudly

“Okay guys that was more than perfect – Lotte... great game so far really... you're a perfect false 6... Hillary... you were outstanding for your first game... really great job... great passes, quick thinking, great overview.... really REALLY good job out there... the rest of you was amazing too... honestly you all play phenomenal... we still do the halftime changes and we go a little easy on Spain and go back to 3-3-4” you said before you stepped down again letting Leah take over leaving the locker room.

Outside Sarina waited for you smiling

“You always have to cause trouble, don't you Liefje?” the dutch smiled “A yellow – I can't believe it”

“Not my fault that ref is blind as a mole” you grumbled but a smile tugged on your lips “I'm gonna get that yellow after the game and gift it to Ona... it's hers anyway”

Sarina laughed loudly pulling you back towards the pitch as you looked at her

“Mama Rina... I have another sub if you're okay with it” you smiled

“You can do whatever you want today Liefje” Sarina smiled back

“Perfect” you smiled happily as you felt a hand smacking your ass making you jump and turn to your right seeing your girlfriend jogging past laughing “I'll get you for that Stanway!” you yelled after her

“All empty promises” Georgia laughed as she jogged out of the tunnel

The second half began as the first one ended with England dominating the game being fired up from the comfortable lead and the nervousness from Spain. Spain subbed some players too at halftime one of them being Mapí León who stopped at your height when she entered the pitch

“Nena... I love you... but now I have to do my job okay... I can't let you score again” the spaniard said a little sadly

“Oh don't worry... I know colorbook spaniard... we'll still score at least one more” you grinned at her which made her grin back at you before jogging on

At the 72nd minute you made two more subs just like you cleared with Sarina. LJ came on for Chloe who started to get tired anyway and Less replaced Meado who just came back from an injury. Georgia did a good job in midfield together with Toons and soon Cata got basically bombarded with shots on her goal while the english defence got a breather. Against all odds it was actually Georgia who scored the 5 – 0 after Less pelted the ball against the crossbar and the ball landed at Gs feet who just took her chance and just... scored. Your girlfriend couldn't believe it herself as Less and Toons jumped on top of her screaming loudly. As soon as Georgia got rid of the two stooges she ran over to the side-line stopping right in front of you

“I can't do what I want to do right now but I promise I do it when we win the world cup for you” your girlfriend said softly and you smiled at her

“I'll hold you to it Stanway” you smiled back as she mocked a salute before running off

It was the 84th minute when you made your final sub. You did send Lucy to warm up who just smirked

“You just can't get around letting me sitting on the bench can't you” your sister teased and you smirked back

“Something like that” you answered

You went up to the fourth official to tell her that you had one last sub. She took out her notebook writing down the numbers who get subbed and looked at you confused

“Are you sure? No. 2 comes on for No.13?” the fourth official looked at you

“Yes I'm sure” you smirked widely

“13 is your Goalkeeper” the woman specified

“Yes I know...” you shrugged your shoulders smiling before getting back to your bench “Luce... get ready – coming on the next chance”

“Sure... any orders?” your sister said as she tied her laces again

“Just... keep a clean sheet okay” you smirked

“What?” Lucy asked confused but you ushered her out to the side-line.

The board went up and it showed the green no.2 – which caused a lot of cheering by the fans – and a the red no. 13. THAT on the other hand caused a LOT of confusion. Hannah looked over at you for clearance and you nodded grinning while Keira was howling in laughter

“Are you serious?” Sarina looked at you shocked

“Yes... I am dead serious... Lucy wanted to play... she gets to play” you grinned as you watched Hannah jogging over already pulling her gloves of her hands pushing them against Lucys chest who turned around to you shocked

“What the hell..” your sister started

“Get going Bronze... and keep that clean sheet... Hannah did amazing out there and there's only a few minutes left... trust the process and trust your defence” you said as you gave your sister a push so she would step on the pitch.

The game ended with a glorious win for England. The team celebrated on the pitch and with the fans. But not you. You stood at the side-line and kept your eyes fixed on your girlfriend and the raven haired spaniard who stood very VERY close to her – too close for your liking.

“What's wrong Bitsy?” Keira appeared next to you wrapped in her warm fluffy team jacket her warm breath coming out puffy in the cold english air.

“Nothing” you mumbled distracted growling lowly when the spaniard laid her hand on the lower arm of your girlfriend

Keira followed your eyes until she found the scene of your obvious bad mood. When the blonde realized what was happening she bursted out laughing

“Don't laugh... who is that?” you grumbled annoyed still rooted in your place

“That's Nuria... Nuria Rábano... left back... plays for Wolfsburg in Germany and obviously Spain” Keira chuckled watching as the dark haired woman laughed at something G said her head thrown back

“She's touching what's mine” you growled seeing how the spaniard grabbed your girlfriends arm tighter

“They played each other just before camp... and she's spanish” the blonde answered still very amused about the whole situation

“People could get a wrong picture of it” your mood didn't really improve with all the information Keira provided

“You know what they say... Are they dating or are they spanish?” Keira found great entertainment in poking at your ego a little bit

“I don't like it” you grumbled

“Green isn't really your colour Bitsy” Keira smirked at the your displayed jealousy as you started to walk into your girlfriends direction rather aggressive

“Green is the perfect colour for me... makes my eyes pop” you yelled back growling already halfway there.

Keira just laughed at your antics turning walking around over to Beth and Leah starting her fan round

“This is amazing... putting five past Coll just feels amazing” Ella screamed so you could hear her over the noise of the fans

“Told you it'll work... just trust me” you yelled back laughing “I don't know what her obsession is with Luce but damn... thank you Carmona”

“She looks pissed” Less laughed next to you as you got sandwiched between her and Ella

“I mean... not my fault” you grinned as you three went across the pitch shaking hands with the spanish players.

You stopped shortly at Aitana for both of you to awkwardly shake hands and then quickly walking away again

“What was that??” Lessi laughed in your face

“We... yeah” you shrugged lost

“I mean that's full on Tooney behaviour” the blonde laughed

“Oi” Ella exclaimed loudly “I wasn't THAT bad”

“True... you were worse” you bursted out laughing “If it wasn't for Luce you'd never have gotten that picture... isn't it your lock screen?”

“Shut up the both of ya” Tooney grumbled

“Hola Cariño” you suddenly hear behind you

You turned around smirking turning Less and Tooney (who totally didn't squeal as she reconized Alexia) with you.

“Hola pretty spaniard” you grinned and Alexia laughed out loud

“Good game” the blonde spaniard smirked at you “Good tactics”

“I'll let the staff know” you smirked enjoying that little banter between the two of you

“Whoever came up with that deserves a raise – no one noticed a weak link in our play before.. or threw us off of our game like this ever before” Alexia grinned knowing fully well it was you

“I'll tell the head coach... yeah... we have a new member of staff... she's good...” you wriggled your eyebrows

“I noticed... but is she good enough to come up with more solutions since she just spilled her little... plan” spains capitana smirked right back at you

“She'll have some surprise ready for you the next time we face each other” you smirked “Alexia... Lessi Russo... Ella Toone” you now introduced your best friends “Me best mates”

“Alessia” Lessi corrected you pronouncing the “A” extra loud

You rolled your eyes for good measure and shoved her away

“You do know I know them right? Last year? Final” Alexia laughed

“No... you know the football players Alessia Russo and Ella Toone” you basically screamed the Alessia “But this two are my best friends...” you smiled

“Less.. Toons.. Alexia “Don't touch that” Putellas... two times Ballon d'Or...” you started before getting big eyes as you frantically looked for Mapí

“... Winner, Cariño... I won that trophy twice...” Alexia laughed as you stopped mid-sentence

“Yeah... sure... winner... twice” you said as realized that she had no idea that there was in fact just ONE whole Ballon d'Or... and one broken one

“You sure are something Cariño” the blonde spaniard smiled as she hugged you

“Ew... go away... you're all sweaty” you faked disgust trying to push her off “AND you wear the wrong jersey...”

“I'm very sorry” Alexia said “apologetic” and hugged you even tighter “You want my jersey?”

“Nope” you snorted “But Lessi over here is a BIG fan”

“You want to swap?” the spaniard smiled at your friend who – in true Less fashion nodded frantically and tried to get her jersey over her head just to get stuck in it

You knew the second you saw her tugging on it the second time that there definitely will be a clip of it – and it definitely will go viral.

With the help of Toons and you you managed to get her out of her jersey which she embarrassed offered to a smirking Alexia

“Come on Stooches” you heard Lucy yell from the place she stood with Ona (and Mario for cover) “Time for huddle”

“But I didn't see Mapí” you whined back

“And it will stay that way” Alexia quickly said firmly

“We're on english soil... you can't tell me what to do in me home” you whined

“Lucia?!” Alexia didn't even bother to give in to your whine “you're hermanita wants to spend time with María”

“Absolutely not” Keira yelled from your other side where she was talking to Irene and Patri

“Tweedledumb” you yelled happily skipping over to the trio leaving Lessi and Toons awkwardly standing next to Alexia

“I was tweedledee” Patri said confused

“No... I'm pretty sure you were tweedledumb” you mused

“Bitsy... don't you have someone else to annoy” Keira pressed a soft kiss to your temple

“I would... but pretty spaniard won't let me go to colorbook spaniard” you whined

“Wrong.. I... won't leave you go to Mapí...” Keira laughed

“But whyyyyy” you whined again

“Really?” the blonde raised her eyebrow at you

“Ugh...” you huffed before you suddenly perked up

“What have you seen now?” Keira immediately felt the change in your body language

“Not what... who” you smirked “Hola sexy spaniard”

“Hola little One... you behaving?” Jenni grinned at you as she came over

“Never... good game Hermosa”

All the players around you stopped talking looking at you confused as Jenni began smirking.

“What?” you asked looking around

“Did... did you just call me beautiful?” the black haired woman smirked as Alexia began to laugh trying to hide it behind her hand

“WHAT??? NO!!!” you screeched horrified as you saw G looking at you suspicious

“You did Cariño... Hermosa means beautiful in spanish” Alexia laughed

“Dear bloody fucking...” you started getting interrupted by Lucy

“Push ups!!”

“CHRIST... Ona said the female version of things is A at the end... the male mostly O... as far as I can tell she has breast and no dick!!!” you enthral loudly

“y/n Bronze... watch your mouth... we're in public” Keira said sternly giving you a death glare

“Sorry” you said ashamed “But... she laughed” you pointed at Alexia

“Because you got it wrong” Keira rolled her eyes “and it wasn't a bad mistake... just a mistake.. get over it... and now come on... Sarina is waiting”

You huffed but let Keira pull you along. You watched as the spanish player went over to their head coach Jorge Vilda (or as you called him Vileda – because he's a mop and nothing more) and their president Rubiales. They were laughing with each other when you saw out of the corner of your eye how Rubiales grabbed Jennis head with both hands and how she moved backwards a little bit. It happened so quickly that if someone (Lucy and Keira... and Sarina) asked you afterwards you couldn't even answer why you did what you did.

You saw how his head moved closer to hers and how she slightly leaned backwards. You pushed yourself away from Keira who looked after you confused before yelling out to Lucy (who was in conversation with Meado). You quickly covered the distance between you and the spanish team shoving bodies to the side until you were standing behind Jenni when you saw that he actually DID press his lips to hers. You yanked her around and away from Rubiales as you already had your balled fist lifted behind your head. You knew you had one go and only one. So you made good use of it putting all your anger into that punch. You felt your fist connect with his face (more specifically his nose) and a gush of red liquid landed on your white Lioness jersey.

It just took seconds but these seconds went past like they were hours. You saw how first Rubiales looked at you confuse. Then shocked and when your fist connected with his face how his whole face flew to the side and he tumbled backwards his hands flying to his nose. There was a deadly silence in the stadium – 74.310 fans were silent.

The next second you felt hands on your shoulders and around your torso as several people started to get in between you and Rubiales. Lucy, Keira, Ona, Alexia, Mary, Leah, Mario – all of them and some more getting in between the two of you. Lucy had her arms around your torso pulling you backwards while the spanish girls trying to get you away before Luis recovered.

Lucy (with the help of Keira and Mary) got your growling fuming form into the tunnel and then the locker-room. Sarina wasn't far behind

“All of you leave” the dutch ordered strictly

Quickly the three players got out of the room knowing not to start an argument with Sarina right now

“Are you actually completely mad?” the blonde dutch said upset “Do you even realize what you've done out there??”

“I...” you looked at her and she saw that you actually DIDN'T know what you did “no... I don't know... I saw how he grabbed her head and then... I don't know”

“You hit him” Sarina said slowly trying to see if you played her

“Did I get him good? He's an arrogant pig” you asked

Sarina just pointed at your jersey waiting for your reaction

“Wow... shit... is this his blood?” you looked up after discovering the splash of red on the white fabric

“Yes... y/n... I need the truth... do you REALLY not remember?” Sarina looked you straight in the eye and you held the eye contact

“I swear Mama Rina... I remember seeing him grabbing her head and then you yelling at me – I swear” you said honestly

“Okay...” the blonde sighed out “... we need to do damage control... you NEED to apologize to the spanish federation”

“WHAT? No... he IS a pig...” you exclaimed

“Liefje... you don't have to mean it... just sell it... because if you don't the FIFA has a reason to ban you from the World cup...” Sarina pressed

“And he just can do whatever he wants and gets away with it?” you said upset

“The only one who can press charges right now is Hermoso... not the spanish team or you.. this part of the problem doesn't concern you... but you need to openly apologise... and you need to sell it” the dutch said firmly trying to get through to you

“Okay...” you huffed “I don't like it... but I'll do it for you”

“Thank you Liefje... and please... after you apologized... don't throw an “asshole” in there” Sarina smiled

“Damn it” you cursed

“Yeah... I do know you” the blonde laughed

The two of you exit the locker-room and to no surprise your sister and Keira were still waiting outside

“ARE YOU ACTUALLY..” Lucy started before she gets interrupted by Sarina

“Stop it... we already talked about it and she will apologise” the dutch said sternly

Your sister huffed but after a second smiled

“Nice right hook... made me proud” Lucy grinned ruffling your hair

“Thanks... Jorge taught me” you grinned back as you passed the spanish locker-room

“Wait” you said quickly before you knocked at the door

You waited a few seconds before Misa Rodr��guez opened the door looking at you carefully

“Sí?” she asked raising an eyebrow

“Okay look... I neither have the time nor the patience to even try to get you to understand me three words of spaniard so I'm gonna do it me way” you huffed out before yelling into the room “HERMOSO!!!”

Seconds later Jenni pushed Misa slightly to the side standing now in the doorway

“Yes?” the dark haired woman asked and you could see that she was still somewhat upset.

“Here” you said as you pulled the Jersey with Rubiales blood on it over your head “It's yours... you deserve it... whenever you question if people will have your back – it was me honour to have your back at this moment... end him Hermoso...” you said intensely before turning around leaving

“Wait” Jenni quickly grabbed your wrist “Thank you” she smiled slightly

“Let him bleed Jenni... he doesn't deserve your mercy” you said firmly “What he did was wrong... and he should carry the consequences”

“Here” this time Jenni pulled her jersey over her head “It's sweaty but I think it's just fair that you get the jersey from the person who got you in trouble”

“Meeh... I always get meself into trouble... but I'll wear it when I apologise to Rubiales... so that he knows that I'll stick to your side” you winked

“You're going to apologise??” Jenni asked shocked

“Have to... Sarina said I don't have to mean it... I just have to sell it... otherwise FIFA can ban me from being part of the team” you grinned

“Thank you y/n Bronze... I owe you” Jenni smiled again

“Yeah about that... I would love to win next year... could you maybe... hold back a little” you grinned and Jenni bursted out laughing

“You can keep dreaming because that won't happen” the dark haired woman laughed.

#lucy bronze x reader #keira walsh x reader #lucy bronze #woso image #barca femeni #mapi leon x reader #ona batlle x reader #jenni hermoso x reader #lionesses x reader #alexia putellas x reader

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daycourtofficial · 3 months

Text

Falling in Love on the Fourth Floor

Azriel x reader

Summary: you move in with a guy you kind of know who happens to have a really hot brother.

Author’s Note: this is part 1 baby!! Likely 5-6 parts, that is currently what I have planned for this. This part is shorter to set things up for later okay love you 😘

(Part 2)

“Mor I don’t know about living with your long term hook up.”

She rolls her eyes, her blonde hair blowing in the wind over facetime. “He’s great - he’s super sweet, super funny, and he’s really hot. Besides, you’ve already signed the lease. It’s too late to back out now.”

You sit in the u-haul you rented, filled to the brim with your belongings, waiting for the leasing office to open so you can grab your keys. You had just pulled up, deciding to call Mor while you wait the ten minutes for them to arrive.

“I don’t know, Mor. What if this was a mistake?”

You chew your lip while thinking about all the ways this could go poorly. She smiles, her face taking up the screen of your phone. “Sweetie, it’s going to be fine. I’ve known him for a long time. He’s friends with my cousin. Worst case scenario you move out at the end of the year into a new apartment.”

She was right, of course. At worst it would be a year. You’ve met Cassian a few times, Mor bringing him to a couple parties and casual get togethers. You were always awed by his warm presence and ease around anybody, qualities that are great when you’re moving in with someone you hardly know.

You nod your head agreeing, but spot someone walking towards the leasing office. “Hey I gotta go Mor - leasing office person is here. I’ll call you tonight?”

She shakes her head, “I can’t tonight - stupid dinner with stupid family. I’ll have pizzas sent to your place, how’s that?”

You smile, her absence one out of familial obligation. She hated her parents, but they also funded her degree so you couldn’t be upset at the one-off events she had to attend to appease them. You also know she tried to get out of the event tonight, but ultimately you’re glad that there’s a now zero chance your new roommate and your best friend will have sex while you’re moving in.

You pick up the keys, sign last minute paperwork, and hop into the elevator to ride up to the fourth floor. You keep reciting the apartment number to yourself, having double checked with the office and with Mor. You find it, situated at the end of the hall with one other apartment next to it.

You run through how this could go in your head - you could unlock the door and have Cassian be pissed off because he wasn’t sure when you’d be arriving. You could wait for him to come out and act like you were just walking up at the same time. Or you could knock on the door, which you find yourself doing.

The door swings in a moment after your knock and you find Cassian looking at you, a confused expression on his face. Despite the early hour, Cassian doesn’t look like he just woke up. In fact, his hair is tied up in a half bun, he’s dressed in a shirt with the sleeves ripped off (allowing his tattooed biceps to be on full display) and some sweatpants, and you can smell bacon and eggs wafting through the door.

“Why’d you knock - did they forget to give you a key?”

Your cheeks heat with embarrassment, this whole situation leaving you uncertain of what to do at each turn. You look up at him as he stands in the doorframe waiting for your answer. Cassian’s a big guy, easily clearing a foot and several hundred pounds of muscles on you.

“Uh- no they did, I just didn’t want to disturb you.”

He looks at you and you’re certain he can feel the nerves radiating off of you. He chuckles and tells you, “not much disturbs me.”

He opens the door more, allowing you to come in. You hadn’t toured the place before signing a lease, your desperation leading you here without many other options. Living in a college town had it’s benefits, however finding a new place to live in July was not one of them. Not a single complex had a room for you. It was either stay with Cassian or crash on Feyre’s couch in her studio apartment.

The place is decently nice - to your left you see the living room with two couches that face quite possibly one of the largest televisions you’ve ever seen. You peer to your right, the kitchen a little bare but clean. You spy the pan and plate that Cassian had clearly just used to eat his breakfast.

“I can give you a tour,” he tells you, “it’s not much but it’s home.”

You take note of the in-unit washer dryer in a closet off the kitchen facing the front door. “Just don’t leave things in the washing machine,” Cassian told you, “pet peeve of mine is wet laundry sitting. Smells awful.”

He shows you where to find all three remotes for the tv and what each remote does, information your brain likely will never remember. He pulls up to one door, opening it slightly. “This is my room,” he says softly due to you being right behind him. He walks to another door, opening it to show a small bathroom. “This is the extra bathroom - this is usually where guests go.”

You two reach the final door, and as he’s opening it he tells you, “and this will be your room.”

You step in and look around the bare room, feeling so small in such a vast and empty space. The room’s not large by any means, but it’s yours. It’s your first step into independence and that feels vast. There’s no furniture, just a router on the floor that makes you chuckle. The blinds are drawn, the soft light peaking through illuminating the cream colored walls.

It feels like freedom. It feels like this place could be a home.

Cassian, the saint of a man that he is, offers to help bring up your boxes. The two of you make quick work of bringing up all of your worldly possessions, frequent occupants of the building’s sole elevator.

He even helps you bring up the bed frame and mattress you had to buy, just barely fitting into the elevator with both.

The two of you passed the time idly, occasional words spoken between you. Sometimes he’d laugh about the organization of your boxes - one box reading both “tampons” and “fall semester textbooks”.

Eventually everything is up in your room, the space cluttered with your boxes and various things. Cassian offered to help you with the bed frame, and when you asked him if he was doing anything else today, he told you, “I cleared my schedule. Wanted to help my new roommate settle.” He winked at you and you smiled back. You suddenly recall Mor describing Cassian as a “generous lover” once and you can totally see it. The man’s love language was clearly acts of service if today was anything to go by.

The two of you set up the bed frame, bickering over the instructions. No one, not even sweet, gentle giant Cassian is immune to the frustrations of lackluster instructions.

As you’re picking up the mattress and placing it in the frame, Cassian starts speaking. “I should probably mention that my brothers live next door. They’ll probably be over now and again.”

That piques your interest. Setting down the mattress with a huff you ask, “why don’t you live with them?”

Cassian shrugs, looking away from you, “I was initially offered a scholarship at another school, but I got injured, lost my scholarship, so came to my back up school. By then my brothers already had their own place, but they were able to set me up in the same building. That was three years ago and moving is a bitch so we’ve just kept this arrangement. Sometimes whenever Az and Rhys are butting heads I let one of them stay here in my room and I take theirs, but otherwise it’s worked out pretty well.”

You look at him, and you know there’s a bit more to the story by how sad his eyes look at the memory. He offered a piece of himself, so you offer a piece of yourself in return.

“My parents kicked me out,” you tell him, scratching the back of your neck. “They uh don’t really approve of me or my plans, so I got the boot.”

You rub your arms, making yourself as small as they make you feel. “They um weren’t very good parents and I finally stood up for myself and they didn’t like that. They have since disowned me and don’t really want anything to do with me.”

You bounced up and down on your toes during your admission and Cassian’s eyes soften as he looks at you, practically a stranger. You two had met a handful of times, his fling with Mor lasting a few months. He walks out of the room, and you’re worried you’ve offered too much, until you hear the fridge door open and close and he returns with two beer bottles. He opens both with his teeth, causing you to inhale sharply, thinking about a chipped tooth. He hands one to you, holding his out to toast. He speaks after your two glasses make a soft clink.

“Mor knew I had a spare room. The leasing office only charges me for my room, so it’s no big deal. Haven’t done much with it, except use the shower when my drain was clogged.”

He takes a sip and looks around your new room before continuing. “She begged me to let you come here. Told me you were one of the kindest, hardest working people she knew.”

You smile, looking up at your new roommate, “she said that?”

“She also said you had a great ass and an incredible rack.”

You throw your head back laughing. “That sounds like Mor.”

The two of you drink in silence, the weariness of the past few weeks creeping into your bones. Maybe Cassian won’t be so bad to live with after all.

Several hours later you and Cassian were setting up one of your bookshelves when someone walked through the door, a delicious smell permeating the apartment.

“Cass, I’m here with pizzas. When’s the “great rack” supposed to get here?”

You and Cassian are on the floor of your room and before he can respond, you yell back, “the great rack got here about five hours ago.”

You hear muttered cursing when a beautiful male walks in, his short cropped black hair pushed back. Rhysand - Mor’s cousin. You recognized his almost violet eyes and sharp features from her family photos littering her desk, as well as her determination to convince your friend Feyre to go on a date with him. He was taller in person, but not as tall as Cassian.

“My apologies, you know how Mor can get with her physical descriptions of people.”

You laugh, screwing in a shelf. “All is forgiven. There are much worse things to be known as or called. Mor has quite the mouth on her - you should hear her talk about Cassian.” You say, pointing your head in his direction.

His head raises from the instruction booklet he’s reading to ask, “what does she say about me?”

“I believe the words “tree trunk” have been used to describe certain body parts on multiple occasions.”

Your new guest barks a laugh, shaking his head. “Well, I brought pizzas should either of you desire them.”

“That’s really sweet but I couldn’t impose-“

Cassian cuts you off, holding a hand up to stop your sentence. “Too late. You’ve imposed. Guess you have to eat the pizza. Besides I hear the best way to keep a great rack is to keep it fed.”

You smile, thinking that maybe this won’t be so hard. It was a rash decision, living with Cassian. You couldn’t stay at home, your parents had made that abundantly clear. Your plans had been to live with them until you graduated in the spring, wanting to save money on housing.

After all the shelves and furniture were set up in your room, you found yourself sitting on the couch with Cassian and Rhysand, pizza boxes on the coffee table in front of you. Rhys, he had told you to call him, had started a movie that was the third in a series. He spent twenty minutes explaining to you the plot of the first two movies. They sounded like generic action movies to you, but you let him go on about the intricacies of the plot and how cool the main character was.

Halfway through the movie the front door opens and closes softly, and all three of you turn to look at the tall man who entered. He was fit, not as muscular as Cassian was, but still toned, even through his shirt. Onyx curls adorned the top of his head, coming close to blocking his hazel eyes. You’re not sure if you’re even breathing looking at him as he looks around the room.

“Azzy, meet my roommate.”

Azzy, as Cassian called him, looked to Cassian to scold him for the nickname before his eyes met yours.

“Azriel’s fine.”

“Oh, okay,” you laugh, telling him your name with a little wave of your hand. His eyes are still on yours, as if he’s trying to commit to memory the name to the face.

“Mor’s friend, right?”

“Yeah, great ass, incredible rack,” Cassian responds, mining out an hourglass figure with his hands. You kick his foot, telling him “is this how you’re going to introduce me from now on.”

He winces as your foot makes contact with his shin, rubbing the afflicted area. “I mean it tells you everything you need to know about someone. You guys can just start calling me ‘big peen’.”

Rhys chuckles, then starts taking a sip of his drink as you tell Cassian, “I think they’d just call you big head, mysterious third nipple.”

Cassian gasps, eyes widening as Rhys spits out his drink, “I can’t BELIEVE Mor told you that about me!”

Rhys gets up, walking to the linen closet to grab a towel to dry off his shirt. Azriel walks to the fridge, grabbing a beer before heading to sit next to Cassian on the other couch as the two of you continue to bicker. As he walks past, you swear you feel every bit of contact as his legs brush past yours.

And if Azriel’s eyes lingered on you as he sat down - you might just have made that up too.

#acotar fanfiction #azriel #azriel x reader #azriel x you #azriel fanfic #azriel fluff #acotar writing #azriel x y/n #azriel series #falling in love on the fourth floor

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plush-rabbit · 3 months

Text

Foggy Minds

Word Count: 4.7K A/N: I dont know his body!! So I tried to leave it ambiguous and yeah!! i also wrote this just for the ending bit

It’s a fucking joke. A cruel one. Angels- or at least Exterminators- are known for their cruelty. Raining down from above, a storm cloud that leaves red behind. Even after the destruction and death, the guts and gore that leave a lasting stench, the cruelty isn’t done. The angel Adam still has to bring torment down to Hell.

A wolf in sheep’s clothing is what he is. He can pretend he’s higher than the sinners down below, but he’s just as crude, if not more so than the worst of them here. It’s a tradition at this point for both you and him. He brings hell on hell, and a week later, he flies down once more, calling the club that you work at, demanding for you to be sent to the Heaven Embassy. However, as the next Extermination Day comes close, he’s called for your services once again. You wish you could say no, but he pays quite a lot for you, and you could always use the money..

You hate the walk there more than anything. It’s like everyone knows you’re off to go fuck the Exorcist. You look both ways before disappearing through the doors of the Embassy. Maybe they think you’re getting a meeting with- someone.

The Embassy is empty, and every step you take echoes out in the room. You’re terrified. You always are. It never stops feeling like a trap. Even in the elevator on the way to the suite, you can only stare at the golden doors in front of you, your reflection distorted and twisted.

If you’re going to be honest- you aren’t sure why it’s you who has to come up. It’s Adam- he’s bragged enough about how he can have anyone, and yet, he pays for a sinner’s cunt. You make sure to not feel special, to squash any pride down. Perhaps it’s too tedious to pay for another sinner or hellborn, and it’s best to just get what he knows will be a good fuck. You sigh and look away from your reflection and the glowing numbers. Still, you show up and do your job. You've taken better and worse clients. The angel is just someone in between.

The doors open and you pass a few doors until you reach his suite. You don’t know why the Embassy has so many rooms, and when you tried to ask Adam, he made a comment about how you could have a fuck-a-thon, doing it in each room, and you sneered at the idea.

Your suite- or rather his suite- is unlocked like always. You waste no time, stepping into the shimmering room. It’s livable. A kitchenette on one side, a bathroom with a wonderful shower tucked in the room, and a massive bed pushed to the end of the room. The room is bright, golds and blues, a deep dark wood carved into ornate decorations, and you feel out of place. It’s nice- far too nice for you to show up and defile it with what you’re going to do. The room never ceases to amaze you. There aren’t many places in Hell where the colors are bright and soft at the same time, where things look so pristine and untouched. When you once mentioned to Adam how nice the room was, he laughed and told you that there were far better rooms in Heaven. A part of you still wishes that he would have offered to show you- something, pictures, descriptions, anything.

“Took you long enough!” The angel says, leaning back on the bed. “I pay for your entire time, ya know? From the walk from your whore house to the embassy, the least ya could do is hurry it up. I’m a very important angel, ya know?”

“You ordered me like last-”

He clicks his tongue, shaking his head. “I don’t want excuses.” His hand waves in the air, and he sits on the bed. “Come on, let’s get to it.” You roll your eyes at him as you walk closer. “Oi! Don’t roll your eyes at me,” his voice is laced with disgust, and you remember that he looks down on you- in more ways than you would care to admit. “Come on, strip.” Your hands go to unzip your skirt. “And make it good!”

You bite your tongue. Your shirt is the first to go. The action is slow, tantalizing as your fingers skim over your bare skin, and your skirt follows suit, pooling on the floor. You step out the fabric, and your heels click on the floor. Adam watches you, his hands scratching the bed covers. You spread your legs over his right, and grab his hands, letting them touch your ribs and then moving towards your back.

You can feel the tips of his claws scratch at the clip of your bra. You press your cunt over his robe covered thigh, and grind over it softly. “Please, Adam,” you beg. “Take it off for me?” Your hands rest over his chest, and he watches as you grind yourself over him, your hands fisting over his robe, and you wonder for a moment if maybe you did a bad thing- if this was the wrong move. But then your bra straps fall down your shoulders, and it’s discarded somewhere in the room.

You hiss when his mouth suckles on a breast, the other breast being pinched and pulled at. He sucks so softly, letting his tongue roll over the swelling bud, teething at it so you hiss and arch yourself further into him. You can feel a wet spot grow, and you can’t help but rock yourself over your thigh. The other breast is manhandled, twisted and pinched that has you gasping and fisting holy fabric in your sinner hands.

You're pushed off and his hands claw over your hip. You get the memo, and peel off your underwear, the wetness of it noticeable, and the only mention of it is when Adam pockets your underwear. You wish you bought another pair with you. The heels are tossed aside, and strong hands push you down from your shoulders. You fall onto your knees with a hiss, and you know what you have to do.

“And- And- Oh fuck, that’s it, baby-” He hisses, his head tilted back. The hand fisted into your hair tightens, sharp stinging encouraging you to swallow more so he could let go. “I’m just saying that why would you settle for anything less than-” A moan interrupts his monologue and you look at him through glossy eyes. “Oh fuck. It’s like a fucking gift to suck me off.”

A string of spit and pre-ejaculate connects to your lips as you pull away. It’s thick and white, and you’re gasping for hair, a hand wrapped around the base of his cock and you push yourself to swallow his package, fitting the pair into your mouth as your hand pumps his length. He’s breathing heavily, and you know he's upset at the loss of contact with your mouth with the way that his hand tangles itself into your hair, but his mask is twisted, and you pop them out of your mouth. Your mouth feels dry despite the excess spit- you suppose it’s the salty taste that lingers.

You take him back in your mouth, eager, and begging for him to just spill his seed already. Your cheeks hollow, and he’s heavy on your tongue. Your tongue swirls over a vein, and you can feel him twitching.

“Fuck, I’m close,” he hisses, his hands cradling your head. You hum, and brace yourself, your hands holding at his thighs, bracing yourself for him to thrust forward. His hands tighten, and he thrusts into your mouth. You gag around him, your throat constricting around him. It’s a horrid sound, loud and hollow, and acid threatens to bubble over. As he continues to pump himself into you, spit dribbles from the corner of your lips and you’re grateful that you were ordered to remove your clothes.

“That’s right, take it. Oh fuck, fuck-” a string of curses fills the room, and he’s unrelenting, pushing deeper into your throat. A hand slips to grab at your breast, eyes squinting when you can feel the spit coat over your chest. Your other hand tightens around Adam’s thigh, your nails pinching into him.

Your fingers pinch over your nipple, rolling it over, desperate to take your mind off of the assault of your mouth. His thrusts get deeper and harsher, and he’s still in the back of your throat, holding you down. Curses mutter in the air, sharp and slurring together, and he keeps his eyes on you. The eye contact is far too much, the piercing eyes boring into your entire being, and it must be some type of power play for him. You choose to focus on the base of his cock. With your nose pressed into his pubic bone, you cough around him, and finally he pulls away, his seed laying thick on your tongue. Tears wet your face and mix with your spit and the drops of his seed.

He grabs your chin and you open your mouth, showing the mess that he’s made. Letting go, you stay still, as he taps his cock on your face. It’s tacky with your spit and leaves you feeling much filthier than you would like to admit. You hold the seed in your mouth and he gives a nod, and you make a show of swallowing, and open your mouth to show him. “Did you want me to do a blessing before you swallow?” He teases. “With my holy cum, I grant you the opportunity to fuck me.” He chuckles at his joke.

“Thank you, Adam,” you murmur, hoping that the soreness on your jaw will go away.

“You know, you could learn how to relax your throat. You’d think after doing this for a living, your gag reflex wouldn't be a thing.” You send him a dirty look, and his grin widens. “So fucking sensitive. What did you want me to tell you? That you were good?”

You aren’t sure what mood he’s in at the moment. Sometimes you can tell when he wants to fight with you- where he wants to punish you and call you a sinner as he ravages you, but then there are moments when he wants you to beg for him, to tell him how good he is, how you want his cock more than anything. But at the moment with your skull pounding and jaw sore, you spit out a simple, “Fuck you.” His grin widens, and he hoists you up onto the bed. The stickiness on your face ruins the soft comforter, and you feel too dirty to even touch something so nice.

“I was going to be nice and just fuck you, but shit, you had to talk back.”

A hand grips at your rear, and a finger teases at your hole. You hiss at the contact, and you're glad you’re face down or else you’d never hear the end of it of how flustered you must look. As if reading your mind, he flips you over, your face exposed and your hands immediately cover the lower half.

“Adam-” you squeal, instinctively trying to close your legs only to have them pried apart.

“Don’t worry,” he says casually. “I just wanna look at how wet you got just from sucking on me.” A finger traces against your slick and you watch as he tastes the finger. “Damn, I should have let you keep your panties on if I knew you were going to get this wet.” A finger enters and you squirm, suckling the intrusion further into your softness. “You’re soaked. And all you had to do was suck me off. You know, if I could keep you, I would.” He enters another finger, pushing the two inside until he’s at the knuckles. “I’d give you a nice collar, a nice bed, and all you would have to do is be my little cocksleeve.” He pulls out, and thick strings of slick connect his fingers back to your cunt. He returns his fingers to your cunt, now with the addition of a third. It’s a wide stretch, a sharp pain being overridden with pleasure. “I bet you’d like that. You’d live a pampered life, and all you have to do is keep your pussy spread open for me.”

With a yank, you’re pulled further into the bed. The comforters make a soft noise, but the bed itself doesn’t creak. You watch with half-lidded eyes, focused as he rests on his knees beside you, his cock growing, the scent of it enough to make you go dizzy. You brush your cheek against it, licking at the side of it when he thrusts his fingers into you.

You sit on the bed, his cock pressed against your face, and with a mind too delirious to think of anything else, you pull him into your mind, lazily bobbing his head, as his fingers scissor inside of you.

You breathe heavily, your mind growing fuzzy with the stimulation. He’s slow and lazy, massaging the inside of your gummy walls as he looks down at you taking his cock once more. A hand brushes your hair away from your face, and you pull away, pecking at his cockhead, nuzzling the glistening head against your lips. It isn’t enough for you, and you swallow him once more, humping into his hand when he gives a smart smack to your cunt.

“Turn around,” he orders, and you scamper to do so. You don’t get a moment to prepare yourself, until he’s bullying himself inside of you. Your hands claw at the comforter, and with watery eyes, you see the fabric tear apart underneath your claws. “You’re clamping down hard around me,” he breathes out, and you buck your hips, trying to feel him deeper into you.

Above you, he's heavy, and selfish, pumping into you relentlessly. The sound of skin slapping against skin is harmonized by your moans. He grunts above you, whispering strings of obscenities and few words of praise linger in the air.

“Oh fuck,” he grunts out, “so fucking good.” His breath is hot against you, fanning out into feathered tickles that touch at your body. He’s never been one for intimacy before reaching his peak, always preferring to be lustful, so you never expect him to actually kiss you, but in moments where he rights just at the right spot, you’d wish he do a little more to make it feel something other that whatever this all is.

His body is pressed against your back, hands squirming underneath to grab at your breasts. His hands are rough and unforgiving, pulling and pinching his nails into your soft skin, You can feel the warmth of his breath against your neck, puffing and huffing, murmurs about how you feel wrapped around him, and you bury your face into the comforter. Your mouth is slacked open, spit pooling down, as your moan helplessly around him, body taut and nerves feeling as if they’re on fire.

“No fucking wonder you’re a sinner,” he seethes out, his thrusts harsh and deep, enough to have you see stars and think about how as selfish as he can, he feels so good. “With a pussy this good, I bet you had everyone lined up for just a taste.” You let out a low whine. “Yeah, I bet you did. No wonder you were hired at that sex joint. Did you have to fuck the owner to get in? Ha?” His tone is wicked, and you’re unsure if it’s his words or the fact that you’re so close as to what is making you tear up. His weight above you shifts, and by your hair, you’re yanked back. You yelp and tighten around him, tears slipping down. “I asked you a question.”

“I didn’t-” you yelp as he continues to bully himself inside of you- “I didn’t hear it, ’m sorry,” you mumble, your scalp stinging with pain.

“Too fucked up on my dick to even think,” he hisses, pushing you down onto the bed. He pulls himself out, and you whimper, shaking your head and pushing yourself closer to him, your cunt weeping for more of him. “A cock hungry slut is all you are, huh?” His cock is pulled out, and he watches you whine, your cunt gaping and leaking slick that makes your thighs glisten.

“Adam, please,” you moan, turning your head to look over your shoulder. You can feel the drool stick to the side of your lips.

“Please what?” he spits out, his eyes flickering to yours, before returning to your ruined sex.

You let a whimper, high-pitched and desperate. You fall back to the bed, your eyes looking forward, and your hand slips underneath you, fingers peeking towards your cunt, feeling the warmth drip onto your fingertips. “I want more,” you tell him, your words muffled by the comforter. “I want you,” you tell him, hoping that he’d take pity on you for a moment.

The tip of his cock brushes itself against your opening, and you clench around it, your body aching for more. “Nah, you have to do better than that.” Your cries are shushed, brows furrowed and you’re turned over onto your back, “Come on, I’ve heard you beg before.” Two of his fingers enter you, thrusting in painfully slow. “You know what to say already.” Your chest rises and falls rapidly, your fingers twisting the bed sheets into spirals. You shake your head, humping pathetically into his hand. “I promise to make ya feel real good.”

“Adam,” you croak. He pulls his fingers out, and tears gluten over your lashes. “Please, I wanna be fucked.” Your legs tense when you feel the tip of his cock nestle itself inside of you. “I’m just a filthy sinner who needs-” you yelp when he thrusts himself inside of you, the entire lengths filling you nicely- “needs to be fucked by your holy dick.” His hands curve over your hips, scratching softy over your skin.

“A little more, honey, and I’ll ruin that demon pussy for you.” His hands curve over your hips, scratching softly over your skin, his voice low and sweet for you.

“Adam,” you plead, your hands curving over your breasts, “I need you,” you whisper in a haze. “I need your cock in me, I wanna cum real bad. I need you. I need you to fuck my sinner pussy.”

He gives you a lazy smile, and gives a nonchalant shrug. “Good enough.” He pushes himself inside of you. Your stomach coils into a heat, and you suck in a harsh breath when his fingers slip to rub at the bundle of nerves between your legs. “You have a fucking grip on my dick. What is it? Are you close?” You let out a broken moan. Your legs kick up, and wrap around him. “If I cum in you, you’re dealing with it.” His grin is sharp and predatory, and it only makes you drag your hands down his arms.

Your hands reach up, and you hold the sides of his neck, your hands curving behind, and you just feel tufts of hair peek from underneath the mask. A hand reaches to grab your wrist, holding it tightly, and you’re sure you’re going to have a bruise afterward. “You fuckin’ slut,” he spits out. “You think just because you got my mask off last time, I’ll let you look at me again?”

“Adam,” you whimper out, scratching at the back of his neck with your free hand, “please. I just wanna look,” you slur out. You know you’ll regret saying those things when you’ve sobered from him, but sex always did make you softer, needier. You think that must be why he decided to continue to hire you- to see you pant for him and stroke his ego. “You’re so pretty, I wanna see,” you lament. “I wanna- I just- I wanna look at you when I cum,” you stumble over your words, your fingertips tapping against the bottom of the mask. The golden eyes narrow at you, and you can only look for so long until you turn your attention elsewhere.

His mask is tossed to the side, and his irises glow. The hand that holds your wrist loosens, and you cup over his cheek, the stubble on his chin scratching at your palm. “Fuck- Oh fuck,” you hiss out, your heart beating against your chest rapidly. “I’m gonna- Oh my- Adam! Fuck,” you hiss, the knot in your stomach tightening, a pressure building more and more until you’re sure that you’ll burst.

Even as your body shakes, he doesn’t stop. He continues moving his hips, pushing all of himself inside of you, his breath coming out in pants above you, his smile sharp and face flushed. A hand wraps around your neck, and you arch yourself into it, whining and mumbling at how your cunt is still too sensitive, how he has to slow down, but he coos at you, and he tells you how good you’re benign for him, and you hold onto his wrist with your hands.

Adam places his face close to yours, his lips and breath fanning above yours, and you’re stuck staring at his eyes, unable to look away from the gold in front of you. You lick your lips, and you brush against his. He stares at you, and your face burns.

He gives shallow thrusts, and is still inside of you, and you can feel him. You can feel the heat, and the stickiness leaks out of you. He keeps himself there, and hides himself into the crook of your neck. After a moment, he slips out, and you can feel the heaviness of his seed weep out of you in slow and heavy drools.

You lay in the afterglow, chest heaving and sweat and more sticking to your skin. Your body is on pins and needles, and laying on top of the soft bedding, you could fall asleep right then and there. Nestled into a pile of feathers and gold, you could die- again- and be happy with it.

But then the man- the first man- groans and you remember that this isn't the time to play house. You have a job. Or rather, you had one, and now you have to return. You lift yourself up into a sitting position, and you stare at the bathroom. A part of you wants to take a shower, but you fear that if you even just tasted what luxury is, you’d have to be pried out of the embassy.

With a sigh, you lift yourself off of the body and gather your clothes. The lack of underwear is something that you frown upon, but when you look back to the angel, with the demand for its return, you can’t bring yourself to ask for it. You’ve walked around without it before when customers got handsy, this is nothing. Your skirt is tight, and long enough that only a pervert would tell.

“So,” he trails off, lying on his back, “do you wanna cuddle or something?”

Your eyes widen, and as you flatten your skirt, you thin your lips. “Uh, no. No thanks, Adam. I’m uh- I’m good.” You straighten your top, and tap your heels against the floor, the sharp click echoes in the chambers.

“Whatever,” he huffs, “I was just gonna psych you out anyways.” He waves his hand, and cool air rushes around you.

You let out a sigh, looking at the mirror where you stared at yourself just a bit ago. Your hands play with your hair, making sure that when you leave, it won’t look like you just slept with someone. You hum, and tilt your head from side to side, trying to find some sort of mark that would have to be hidden. However, the cool air- his own magic or blessing- has fixed any evidence of indecency on you.

“The extermination is next month,” Adam sighs. Your eyes flick up, and you catch him staring at you- golden eyes piercing into your own, unblinking and unbothered.

“I’m aware,” you tell him, returning to look at yourself in the mirror. You stand straight and let out a sharp sigh. “I think some of the residents are already panicking.”

“Are you?”

Your stomach knots itself, and you remember when you were first bought by Adam- the nervousness, the disgust, the bile burning your throat. It’s all too familiar at this moment. You shrug. “I don’t think it’s set in yet,” you mumble.

“I’ll come by the night before.” You look at the white tiles- the grout filled with shimmering gold, and the tiles patterned with silver and gold lines. “I’ll leave the back door unlocked like last time.” He doesn’t say the words nicely, it’s more like an afterthought, as if telling you this is a bother, but still, he tells you this, and one thing you've learned about Adam is that he hasn't lied to you yet. You fist the hem of your skirt in your hands, and nod. It’s silent, and then he starts again, annoyance laced into his words. “What do we say?”

“Thank you, Adam,” you tell him in a beat.

“Yeah, well, I can't have my favorite whore die.” His wings unfurl and stretch across the bed. The tips of the feathers reach just beyond the mattress, and you shrug. The words hang heavy in the air, and you feel small compared to him. In the mirror, you can see his reflection, his mouth thinning, and his eyes narrowing. “I- uh- I still have you for ten more minutes.” You make eye contact with him in the mirror. “Get back here. I wanna suck on your tits.”

You stick your tongue out, and your hips sway as you walk towards him, your heels falling carelessly to the floor as you rest beside him. His hands are cold as they peel off your shirt and without a care, he tosses it to the foot of the grand bed. A hand cups at your breast, and you can feel his breath fan over your chest, and you wait to feel his teeth bite at you, but you never do. The wetness of his lips trace over the swell of your breast, a peck pressed against the bud, but never swallowing it. Your chest is heavy with his weight on top of you, and the hand on your breast unfurls and curves over your ribs. His wings expand, and they partially cover you, the softness of them akin to the finest blanket in what only money can buy.

Realization as what he’s doing has your body heating, and you worry that he can tell with the way that he’s laid bare on your chest, and yet, he makes no snide comments. This is far more intimate than anything you’ve ever done before. With a harsh swallow, your arm wraps around him, your hand reaching upwards to scratch at the back of his head. Your hands knot into his hair, your nails dully scratching along his scalp. He lets out a low hum in response, nuzzling his cheek over your bare skin in approval.

With a shaky breath, you break the silence. “You know, I was thinking, that maybe I’d uh, give that Hazbin Hotel a shot.” You feel his hands scratch over your ribs, straight, and piercing, and they cling to you as his breath hitches. “I’m not sure I believe in the whole redemption thing, but free housing is nice.” You feel him nod slowly, and you twirl a piece of his hair around your finger. He gives you a short answer, one that is mumbled into your skin and doesn't make its way to you, and his wings inch further up covering more of your body as he brushes his lips against the swell of your breast. You don’t look at the time even when you feel that he’s grown heavier on your body.

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jobean12-blog · 5 months

Text

Bake Nights

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x female reader

Word Count: 1,709

Summary: Bucky starts to show some interest in one of your favorite shows and you couldn't be more excited!

Author's Note: So I'm a huge fan of the GBBO and since the finale was this last week I've wanted to write something fun with Bucky. The show really just brings me joy and I've needed it lately and pairing it with Bucky just makes it that much better! No real spoilers here for the latest season- just lots of fun! Thank you all so much for reading! Much love always! ❤️❤️❤️Divider by the lovely @firefly-graphics thank you Daisy! 🥰

Warnings: lots of sweet fluff and flirty fun

“Buuuuuckkkyyyy.”

“Yeah doll?”

“Have you seen my tea? Are we out?”

As you continue to search the cabinet you feel his hard chest press against your back. His arm reaches above you and he pushes the box of crackers aside, revealing your tea.

“Oh good!” you cheer. “I’m about to watch this week’s episode of Great British Bake Off and I wanted some tea and snacks.”

“Is that the UK baking show you’re always going on about?”

“Yes,” you say with narrowed eyes as you turn in his arms.

He gives you a lopsided smile before a kiss.

“Want to watch with me?” you ask with a hopeful tone.

“I’m finishing up the paperwork from this last mission and you know all the cooking shows do is make me hangry.”

“You’re always hangry,” you state with a pout.

“So are you,” he fires back.

With one more kiss he says, “when I’m done I’ll come in a sit.”

“Ok,” you huff. “Hurry!”

You make your tea and get situated on the couch with the blanket, snacks and Alpine curled up in your lap.

“You’ll always watch with me right buddy,” you coo as you pet the cat’s soft white fur. “Not like daddy…too busy and too hungry.”

“Heard that doll face,” Bucky chimes from the other room.

“Damn super solider hearing,” you mutter.

You’re fully engrossed in the show, waiting with bated breath as Prue and Paul judge the show stoppers, and when Bucky asks, “did she just say, ‘tell us about your Beaver?,’” you startle with a squeal and nearly drop a now very irritated Alpine.

“OH MY GOD BUCK!” you shout.

“She did, didn’t she?” Bucky deadpans. “What kind of baking show is this?”

You press pause and turn around to stare at him as he leans against the back of the ouch and peers down at you and Alpine.

“The best baking show ever! Now shush…it’s judgement time.”

He lifts his eyebrows and smirks. “Didn’t know it was so serious. I’m gonna grab some food and I’ll be right back.”

You hit play and continue watching, barely noticing when the couch dips and Bucky sits down next to you.

“Did the beaver win?” he asks through a mouthful of food.

“It doesn’t work like that,” you start to explain but clamp your mouth shut as you wait for Noel to announce the name of the baker that’s leaving.

“How does it…?”

“Buck, wait…this is the worst part,” you whisper as you nibble on a finger.

He shuts up and takes another bite of his sandwich.

“Oh noooooooo,” you cry when you hear who’s going home. “I hate when anyone has to leave.”

Once it’s over and you’ve shut the TV you sigh. “Have to wait a whole week for the next one!”

Bucky slides his arm across your shoulders and tucks you against him, silently offering you a bite of his sandwich.

You take it and then ask, “can we get some cake at the diner later? I’m in the mood for a big slice of something.”

He chuckles and takes another bite of the sandwich before offering you the last one.

“Sure doll face. I can always go for cake.”

“Time for baking again?” Bucky asks when he gets out of the bathroom and finds you on the couch snuggled up with Alpine.

“Yes! Want to come watch?” you ask excitedly.

His expression falls. “Aw doll. I’m about to go workout with Sam.”

You pout. Again.

He leans over the side of the couch and kisses it right off your lips. “I’ll try to be quick. Maybe I can catch the end…or you could wait for me?”

You stare at him and blink several times, warring with the need to watch the episode immediately and the desire to watch with him.

The corners of his eyes scrunch up as he smiles. “It’s ok baby doll. You go ahead and watch, I’ll be back as soon as I can.”

You nod and pucker up for another kiss which he happily obliges in.

By the time he gets back from his workout you’re watching Paul and Prue judge the showstoppers.

“Are we about to see who wins,” he says as he plops down next to you.

Alpine meows in frustration as the couch bounces and he goes with it.

“They’re still judging the showstoppers and it’s bread week…”

You say the last words ominously and Bucky shifts closer, bringing his lips to the shell of your ear.

“Why do you sound so scared doll?”

“Paul is the King of bread.”

“Paul…? Is that the guy with the bad fake tan?”

“HEY!” you admonish with a giggle. “Yeah…but he knows bread.”

“I know bread!” Bucky says more to himself than you. “I eat bread all the time. I love it.”

“Not like that you buttface,” you retort. “Like he knows how to bake the best bread.”

“Buttface…? Did you just…?” Bucky starts before he returns his focus to the bread.

“I’ll be the judge of that! Where can we get some Paul bread?”

“Paul bread?” you repeat. “Just…shush. Let’s watch.”

“You sure tell me to shush a lot when this show is on,” he grumbles.

“That’s ‘cause you talk too much while it’s on!” you reply.

“That’s it,” Bucky says and grabs you, hauling you into his lap as his fingers find purchase on your waist and dig in.

“BUCKKKKKKKKKKKY! That tickles, stop, OH MY GOD!”

You screech and squeal and kick and fight but it’s no use. He easily holds you in place while he tortures you with tickles.

Alpine hops off the couch with his tail turned up and gives Bucky a murderous glare.

“Please,” you whine. “Just let me finish my show!”

He finally relents and slides his hands along your curves, snuggling you against his chest while you catch your breath.

“You’re such a pain in my ass,” you sigh as you let out one last deep breath and snuggle closer.

After they announce star baker Bucky adds, “I like the guy with the eye liner. He’s really funny.”

“That’s Noel. He’s the best!”

You stiffen when they get ready to announce who’s going home and Bucky hugs you more tightly.

“I really hate that part,” you say when it’s over.

“Alright, it’s official. Next week we are watching together.”

Your frown instantly turns into a bright smile and you throw your arms around his neck, peppering his face with kisses.

“I’m so excited Buck! And I have to explain everything…so Paul and Prue are the judges…”

Bucky stops you with a press of his finger to your lips. “Can we discuss his over food? Sam kicked my ass today and then the baking and now I’m starving.”

You smile before taking his finger and giving it a nibble. “Of course. Come on, we can get pizza.”

“YESSSS my favorite,” he sings.

“Everything is your favorite,” you deadpan.

He scoffs and then his smile turns devious. “I take it back.”

Your hands land on your hips and pin him with a challenging glare.

He steps closer and takes you in his arms. “Pizza isn’t my favorite thing to eat…”

His lips trail along your neck, stopping just below your ear. “You’re my favorite thing to eat.”

With a hum of satisfaction you crane your neck back and sigh as he places soft kiss to your skin, tracing your jaw before he finds your lips again.

His stomach growls just as he kisses you and you both laugh.

“Pizza first,” you say.

“Then you for dessert,” he promises.

“Man those technical challenges are rough,” Bucky says as he runs his hand through his hair. “Shit.”

“I KNOW!” you agree. “I don’t know how they do it.”

“Show stopper now?” Bucky asks with a boyish smirk.

“Yep!” you say popping the p before giving him a sweet kiss. “And it’s pastry week! YUM!”

Bucky’s fingers sneak under your shirt and trace mindless patterns along your shoulder. You’re snuggled against his chest with your palms flattened on his chest and tummy.

He digs his fingers into your skin and asks, “why does Paul walk around and watch them like that!?! It’s so intimidating!”

“Because he’s a total pain in the butt and knows how scary he is!”

As you continue to watch each baker explains their flavors and design and Bucky’s stomach growls.

“I’m so hungry,” he whines.

“You’re so cute,” you answer. “We just have to get through judging then we can eat!”

“Ok,” he says quietly as he pulls you closer.

“That’s amazing!” he says excitedly as one of the bakers brings up their showstopper. “I hope it tastes good!”

When the bakers are lined up in their chairs waiting to hear who star baker is and who’s leaving the tent, Bucky sucks in a breath, clearly on edge.

“Yes!” he cheers when they announce star baker. “I called that one!”

“You did,” you say as you pat his chest with a smile.

When Noel is about to say who’s leaving the tent Bucky drops his head and mutters, “ugh, you were right, this part really is the worst. I like them all! I don’t want anyone to leave.”

“Just wait until it gets down to the end and there are only a few bakers left…” you warn him.

The show ends and you both give each other a sad look.

“Do we know what the theme for next week is?” he asks.

“Botanicals!”

“Like flowers?” he asks with a confused look.

“Yes,” you smile.

“Wow, can’t wait for that!...heyyyyy why don’t we bake something doll?”

You do a double take. “You want to bake?”

“Yeah! I mean why not? I’m sure we can make somethin’ good.”

“OK! I’m sure we have the ingredients to put something together.”

You hop off the couch and head into the kitchen, opening a drawer to pull out two aprons.

“No way!” Bucky says when he sees what you’re holding up.

“You have to Buck! PLEAAASSSSSSSEEE…all the bakers wear one!”

“Fine,” he relents and takes it from your hand. “But I’m getting second dessert after this.”

He waggles his eyebrows as he looks you up and down.

“What are you a Hobbit?” you tease.

“A horny Hobbit!” he exclaims.

@hiddles-rose @lizette50 @buckysdollforlife @blackwidownat2814 @goldylions @randomfandompenguin @kmc1989

#bucky barnes #bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes x you #bucky barnes x y/n #bucky barnes x female reader #bucky barnes fanfiction #great british bake off #bucky barnes imagine #bucky x reader #sebastian stan x reader #sebastian stan #gbbo

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ponderingmoonlight · 4 months

Text

Gojo dressing up as Santa for his girlfriend, Megumi and Tsumiki

Pairing: Gojo x girlfriend!reader; dad!Gojo x Megumi and Tsumiki

Word Count: 1,1k

Synopsis: Satoru Gojo expected a lot of things, but not his girlfriend and two rescued kids making fun of him after he put on a Santa costume only for them.

Warnings: fluffness overload, there's absolutely not enough content for the dynamic between Gojo and his kids in the manga so we'll make our own, a little bit of spicy mentions especially in the bonus material so be prepared for cheeky Gojo

„I thought I told you I don’t want you to dress up as Santa in bed, Satoru. How many times do I have to tell you that this doesn’t turn me on at all?”, you moan, eyes roaming all over your beloved boyfriend.

There he stands, wearing a bright red costume, a way too big hat and the worst fake looking beard you have ever seen. What the hell has gotten into him again?

He turns around, sly grin beaming your way. At least that pants seem to fit him pretty well, they really bring out his strong legs and well, that special part between his legs. Huh, maybe it doesn’t look as off-turning as you thought it would…

“For once, I’m not doing this for you. Don’t you ever think about the kids, (y/n)?”, he teases you.

The kids? Does he talk about Megumi and Tsumiki? No, he absolutely can’t. Out of all people, your boyfriend should know best that Megumi will probably leave and never return if he sees Satoru dressed up like this. And Tsumiki? Well, she might not be as harsh as Megumi, but even she will just stare at him bamboozled. Yes, those kids aren’t particularly joyful when it comes to Satoru’s goofy side and everyone knows.

Except for him, apparently.

“The kids will hate you for this”, you clarify, fingers getting stuck in the fake hair of his beard.

He draws you closer, arms wrapping around you tightly while the poor fabric of his costume scratches against your cheek.

“You just can’t accept that they love me more than you. Just watch and see the magic in their eyes.”

A huff escapes your lips, head shaking by itself. Oh, you’ll definitely watch as he makes a fool out of himself in front of the kids. This will be fun.

-later-

“Hey (y/n), where is that freak?”, Megumi greets you, neatly dropping his schoolbag into the same spot as usual.

“Come on, Megumi-chan, don’t call him that”, you softly reply.

“I have no idea, I haven’t seen him since morning.”

“(y/n)!”, Tsumiki cries out and runs into your open arms instantly.

What a sweet girl she is. Despite the fact that both her mother and father are gone, she always wears a wide grin on her face, embracing you in a hug whenever she lays her eyes on you. Megumi on the other hand, just stares at you from afar with his arms crossed in front of his chest. How is it possible for siblings to be this different?

“Why do you talk about him this way, Megumi? Don’t you know we would have never met (y/n) if it wasn’t for him?”, Megumi’s sister reproves him in an instant.

“Huh, you’re right about that”, the petite boy mumbles to himself, eyes set on you.

“Ho ho ho children.”

You blink a few times, the voice behind the closed door being pitched so ridiculously low that your cheeks redden. He told you he’ll surprise the kids today, you should have seen it coming after he tried on that strange suit this morning. But to be honest, you hoped it was just to mess with you, that he was just playing around a little.

Until the door swings open and reveals Satoru Gojo in a Santa costume, wearing his iconic pair of sunglasses.

“You can’t be serious about that”, Megumi mumbles in the corner.

You don’t know what to do. Dying of laughter or dying of embarrassment? By the way he steps into the middle of the room with boots that look way too similar to the ones you just bought a few months ago, you have no time to think about that.

“Since I know (y/n) is always naughty, I’m here to check if at least you kids have been good this year”, he announces.

It’s hard to keep the corners of your mouth from shooting up and to suppress the little giggle that creeps up your throat. But there you stand, smiling like an idiot while shaking your head, watching the priceless drop on Megumi’s cute little face.

“You’ve got to be kidding, right?”

Tsumiki lets go of you, blinking over and over in an attempt to understand what’s going on. Everybody just stands dead still in their tracks, staring at what’s definitely Satoru Gojo in front of them.

“I see, you’re a feisty one, little man. Watch how you speak to someone my age!”

“You’re 18.”

“I AM NOT! LOOK AT MY WHITE BEARD.”

Tsumiki is the first one to break with a squeal, holding onto your body for hold while shaking uncontrollably in laughter.

“This isn’t funny, young lady!”, Satoru’s low voice speaks out harshly.

He sends you over the edge. Your little giggle escalates into loud laughter, making your stomach ache so badly that tears run down your cheeks.

“You look ridiculous. Take that off.”

With a swift motion, Megumi pulls down the fake beard that was set in place by a cheap elastic, exposing the pout of pure outrage on Satoru’s lovely face. Oh, how much you love that man. The man who lost it all last year, the man who cared about those kids he didn’t even knew enough to basically adopt them, the man who does everything to make Megumi’s and Tsumiki’s life as pleasant as possible.

Even if it means dressing up as Santa.

“Huh, how did you get it was me?!”

“Are you kidding? You’re even wearing your sunglasses, idiot.”

“HOW DARE YOU TO CALL YOUR DAD IDIOT, I RAISED YOU-“

“Raised me? You know me since last year!”

“He would never admit it, but I know that he really admires Satoru from deep down”, Tsumiki suddenly hushes into your ear.

You wipe your tears away, observing the scene laying itself out in front of you with a wide smile. It’s not a secret to anyone in this room that life has its ups and downs, that everything is shitty from time to time. But precious moments of joy like this that make even Megumi turn away with an ever so slight grin make you realize what life really is about.

“I think you were quite convincing”, you comment sarcastically.

“You…It was your fault! You told them about my surprise!”, your boyfriend cries out overdramatically.

It takes him not even seconds to be by your side, grabbing you by your waist and tickling your over-sensitive spots he knows so well.

“Stop! I didn’t do anything!”, you shout between multiple giggles, tears of joy streaming down your face all over again.

“B-but…I like that suit better than I thought.”

His hands stop immediately, eyes darkening in an instant.

“Is that so, huh? Maybe I can show it off better in the bedroom.”

“Yeah, maybe…”

“Come on, Megumi. Time to go”, Tsumiki hisses, dragging her brother out of the room by his small hand.

-dirty bonus-

"Tsumiki?", Megumi mumbles muted.

"Yeah, what is it?"

"Do you think (y/n) is okay?"

Tsumiki blinks into the darkness around her, trying to understand what her little brother means by his words.

"She definetely was when Satoru dressed up as Santa. Why?"

"When I went to the toilet, I heard her screaming. She even screamed his name. I guess I'm just a little...worried. Do you think we should go check-"

"NO", Tsumiki interrupts him immediately, her face heating up in an instant.

Oh god.

"Absolutely not. Just stay here and try to sleep."

"But what if-"

"NO. And never tell me about something like this again!"

Tags: @arehzhera @ploylulla @tzubaki @beatrexworld @kenstarsworld @dazaisdick @hellkaiserinphoenix @lauv4chuuya @shadowfoxey @starlightanyaaa @sindela @kayleegomez @sunshine7queen @magalimachete @mokoartpost @gatitam @idontknow1123 @creative1writings @sanicsmut @mynahx3 @sad-darksoul @chilichopsticks @hellkaiserinphoenix @chuyasthighs0 @ynackerman9499 @keepghostly @wxwieeee @lovelyluna1 @froufrousnowman @hidazinie @tomiokathedepresso @gojosrealwife @coffeeluvr96 @mahi-tamashi @weebotaku21 @chaoticwinnercupcake @lees-chaotic-brain @risuola @sugurulefttesticle @wordskeeper @baku2345 @polarbvnny @ruixrei @bam-bam-bam-bame-blog @lavenderdrxp @localhehecat @alicerhr @kayleegomez

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changbunnies · 5 months

Text

All About You, (18+)

♡ Pairing: Royal Knight/Bodyguard!Minho x Princess!Reader

♡ Genre: royal au, historical au, arranged marriage au (reader only), age gap, angst, kind of forbidden love? (maybe more than kind of), basically porn with plot

♡ Word Count: 7.5k

♡ Summary: You, the princess who ran away from the castle after finding out your father, the king, has finalized your arranged marriage. Minho, your royal knight and glorified bodyguard, tasked with bringing you back home at all costs. When found, you hit Minho with a very interesting proposition- for him to be the one you share all your "firsts" with, instead of your inevitable husband.

♡ Warnings: age gap !! reader is ~23 while minho is in his 40s, please don't read if this makes you uncomfortable!, uneven power dynamics, outdated traditions and views on women to suit the setting, brief reference to death by guillotine, and death in general, mentions of injury and swordfighting

♡ Smut Warnings (contains spoilers): lowkey corruption kink, loss of virginity (reader), petnames (princess (mostly as a title), good girl), slight sub + dom dynamics, soft dom minho, submissive reader, a lot of kissing (should be expected from me atp), nipple play, oral (f receiving), fingering (f receiving), slight overstim, unprotected piv, multiple orgasms, creampie

♡ Notes: at this point i am determined to write a royal, historical au fic for every member, and my newest offering to you is minho <3 i was literally possessed writing this like once the idea hit my brain i had to get it out asap lmao you can also read the story on my ao3 here, and if you're interested you can also check out my fic rec and feedback blog @stray-dreams

♡ Disclaimer: please read responsibly, and remember that this work is fiction and meant strictly for imaginative fun. the idols used in fics are more accurately faceclaims and personality outlines for imaginary characters, and should not be interpreted as factual representations of existing people.

Fuck. Minho was absolutely fucked. In recent years, he had one job, and one job only, and that was to take care of the princess. Make sure she’s safe, escort her to where she needs to be and watch over her at all times- that’s all. Not always an easy job, but one of vital importance that Minho took with utmost seriousness. In the 3 years it’s been since becoming your royal knight and glorified bodyguard, he never messed up this critically.

You always had a rebellious streak and challenged authority, everyone in the castle knew that. And part of Minho’s job, apart from keeping you safe, was keeping you in check- and the king made it extremely clear that failing to do so was not an option. So he lost track of the amount of times he uttered the words “Princess, please think rationally,” or “Please consider your responsibility to the kingdom, don’t do this,” in a near desperate attempt to get you to listen to reason.

And today, he fucked up the worst he ever had. He knew you were upset tonight, but he was under the impression he successfully calmed you down, and that you wouldn’t do anything rash. He turned his back to you, thinking the storm had been quelled, and that you’d listen to your father, even if doing so felt like pulling teeth. He underestimated however, just how deep your sadness and anger truly ran, and the very moment you saw an opening, you took it.

You fled from the castle with blind determination, nowhere to go and with little of value in your hands, fueled purely by the desire to escape your unfair circumstances, and live your own life by your own means. You may not believe it, but Minho understood, and felt for you- he really did. But that didn’t change what his duty was, and even if it made you hate him, he had to do his job to the best of his ability.

So now here he was, roaming the streets looking for you, the hours passing in a blur. You must’ve done a good job of concealing your identity, because no one he asked had seen a young woman matching your description, and as the minutes ticked by, and sunset turned to midnight, he was at a complete loss of what to do. He made record time combing the entire bustling town, stopping into places full to the brim with people in the hopes he’d catch a glimpse of you in the crowd, and yet there seemed to be no trace of you anywhere.

It was easy for someone to hide their presence in a crowd, or in the rowdy environment of a tavern, and you were more than intelligent enough to blend into a crowd and divert attention away from yourself. It was entirely possible that Minho had seen you at some point, and simply didn’t realize it, though he liked to believe he’d recognize you anywhere, no matter what you wore. Minho scowled, clenching his teeth as he scanned the dark horizon of the treeline; should he check the outer walls of the town for a clue, or double back and check the streets again?

He doubts you made it out of the town easily, considering you likely had no money on your person and little experience with the realities of the world. You were intelligent, yes, but sheltered; he could easily imagine you quickly getting in over your head, thinking you could make it to the next town without issue, only to end up lost and in need of help, with no one for miles to hear your desperate cries.

Fuck. If he couldn’t find you, his head would most certainly be meeting the cold steel of a guillotine. He had no family who would mourn his loss, but still, he wasn’t ready to face his mortality. And the king, despite being someone he could call a close friend, would spare no mercy if he failed to keep his one and only daughter safe. But really, there was more to it than just the threat of death that kept him searching for you. Believe it or not, he genuinely wanted you safe and well, and he'd do anything to ensure you made it back home, even if it made you curse him for the rest of his days.

As if God himself heard his prayers and decided to grant him a miracle, Minho sees you- there, on the outskirts of town, holding your cold hands up to your face and letting your breath warm them. It’s dark, the street barely even illuminated enough to discern your recognizable features, but he knows without a doubt that it's you standing there in the cold street, because truly, he knows you anywhere.

By the time you realize you’ve been spotted and recognized, it’s already much too late to flee. Minho approached you with utmost haste, reaching out and grabbing your arm, lest you make the foolish decision to try to escape again. His hold, while not rough enough to hurt you, is firm, and it only takes one attempt at pulling your arm from his hold to know this is it; your escape attempt has failed, and you’ll be dragged back to the castle and reprimanded for your “temper tantrum.”

Your father never listens to you, no matter how hard you try to make him understand and see your point of view. Maybe if you were born a boy, your opinions would be important to him, and he’d see you are more than an object to pawn off to whatever man gave him the most political power. “Princess-” “I’m not going home,” you interject before he even has a chance, though you already know it’s in vain. There is no avoiding returning to your glorified prison now that Sir Minho has you in his grasp.

He sighs, but his face changes to one of sympathy, his grip on your arm loosening ever so slightly. “Can we at least go to an inn room? It’s not safe for a young lady to be on the streets at night,” he reasons with you, as gently as he can manage. Normally Minho is quite stern with you, but you get the impression that he feels being stern isn’t the right approach tonight. You’re known for expressing yourself very vocally, even when doing so is extremely ill-advised, and he is well aware of how opinionated and fiery you are.

But treating this display as anything other than a genuine act of desperation, a culmination of years of perceived disrespect and conformity, would be another critical error- one he can’t afford to make. So he will be firm, yes, but gentle in his approach. You frown as you look at him; you’re stubborn by nature, and part of you wants to fight against him until the bitter end, but he’s not wrong about the streets being unsafe for you at night. You know he won’t let you escape again come morning, but that’ll have to be a problem for later; for right now, you really should heed his advice and go to an inn for the night.

“Fine,” you concede, much to Minho’s relief. He could’ve forced you to go with him if he really needed to, but he’d rather avoid doing something so unpleasant. He leads you to a nearby tavern, which is still bustling with activity even at the late hour. He keeps you close as he pushes through the crowd of rowdy drunks to the dual innkeep-bartender, hoping that there is still a room available. The man departs, coming back with a key dangling in hand, “You’re in luck. Last room’s all yours.”

Minho thanks the man and pulls out his satchel to pay him, leaving a few extra coins as a tip before stashing it back in his pocket, along with the key he was given, and the two of you go up the stairs together. “There’s only one bed,” you comment as you step inside the room, though Minho doesn’t seem to care much about that fact. “That’s fine, don’t plan on sleeping anyways,” he says as he removes his leather scabbard from his back, resting it against the back of the chair in the corner of the room.

You frown as you sit on the bed and watch him; he must’ve been in a hurry when he received word you fled from the castle, as he wasn’t wearing any of his armor, strictly in casual wear you’d very rarely seen him in. Probably for the best, you think, because if anyone saw a royal knight desperately searching the streets, multiple alarms would be raised. He lights the fireplace, hoping to quickly spread some heat throughout the cold room, before he sits in the chair, crossing his arms and watching you carefully.

Deserved, you suppose. How is he supposed to trust you’re not going to flee at the first available moment just as before? You certainly don’t make his job easy for him; he can’t take his eyes off you for a second. The silence between you lingers for some time, the crackling of the fire the only sound either of you hear, apart from the muffled patrons enjoying their drinks downstairs. Minho, despite his relaxed posture, looks like he’d be ready to jump up at a moment's notice should he need to.

You sigh; should you just try to sleep? It’d feel awkward and uncomfortable to try to fall asleep with someone's eyes boring holes into you, but you really didn’t give him much of a choice. “Do you want to tell me why you ran away from the castle?” Minho asks suddenly, breaking the tempered silence between you. “You already know the answer to that,” you respond, crossing your own arms now.

“Is marrying Sir Jin really so bad?” he asks, and you scoff, rolling your eyes. “Yes, obviously. I don’t want to. Not that you or my father care about me or anything I think.” Minho’s brow furrows, the frown on his face growing. “Princess, you know that’s not true. I do care about you.” “Do you? I haven’t been able to tell in the slightest,” you counter a bit harshly, “and you could help me if you wanted to, you know. I’d be fine out there if I was with you.”

Okay, maybe you’re not being fair to Minho right now. You do know he cares, but realistically, what is he supposed to do? If he disobeyed your fathers orders, he’d be lucky if his only punishment was a swift death. He was assigned to you because your father trusts him to do the right thing and follow orders dutifully, a trust that is usually not misplaced. But he has to admit, the more and more time he spends with you, the more he feels for you.

Minho never knew your father, the king, to be an unreasonable or cruel man, but in your eyes, he might as well be the devil himself. And maybe he is cruel- because how do you strip someone of their freedom and choices for your own gain, and not see the harm it causes, the wrong in it? You are more than a pawn, more than a subject, more than his daughter- you are a person. A person with thoughts, feelings, and opinions as real as any mans, who did not deserve to be treated lesser than for the simple crime of being born a girl.

But what is Minho if not an upholder of the status quo? He was just a single man, and even if he recognized how unfairly you were treated in comparison to the golden child that was your elder brother, what was he supposed to do? He always performed his tasks dutifully and without question, and it wasn’t until he met you that he began to struggle with what he should do, and what he wants to do.

And maybe he could get you out of this town, help you live a quiet, modest life somewhere new, away from the watchful eye of your father. Where he could be your protector, same as now, but without the guilt, burden, or threats. You know you shouldn’t take your frustrations about your life out on Minho, but he’s really all you have. You trust him with your life, and he’s shown you multiple times that he cares about you beyond the duty he has to you, or to your father. He's your only confidant, the only person in the world you can rely on.

Your eyes linger on the scar across his nose- he got it protecting you, the other man’s sword barely missing his eyes and cutting just across his face, and it was only one of many scars he obtained in his service to you. He’d pick you up and run with you in his arms when you were injured, he’d fight off attackers without breaking a sweat, sustain injury after injury all to make sure you were safe. You’d watch his back, always stunned and mesmerized at the ease at which he cut down your enemies, as if they were nothing but paper.

When he’d turn back to you, breathing heavy and sweat only just starting to trickle on his brow, his eyes would turn from the harshest winter chill to the gentle warmth of a spring morning. He was quiet, stern, but his care ran far deeper than one would think just by looking at him, and all you had to do to see the true depth of his feelings was look in his eyes. So you knew it was unfair to accuse him of not caring about you, to expect him to go above and beyond for you, to ask that he go against your father to give you what you want, but you were just so sad, frustrated, angry, that you couldn’t stop yourself.

“Maybe you’ll grow to love him if you give him a chance,” Minho suggests; you both know that’s never going to happen, but what else can he say? He never married, and had no children, dedicated to his duty as he was; he had no real advice to offer someone when it came to love, romance, and the like, but he imagined it wasn’t impossible to fall in love if you just met Sir Jin with an open mind.

But as stated, that’s never going to happen. You’re stubborn to a fault, and once you’ve decided something, there’s no changing it. The best Minho can ever manage to do is get you to reconsider, but even then, you’re still likely to go about things the way you originally wanted to, with no regard for consequences or keeping up appearances. You’re a fiery woman, there was no doubt about it, and you don’t let go of things easily.

“The mere thought of giving that man all my firsts makes me sick, it’s vile,” you scrunch up your nose, making your distaste for the man very clear. Minho doesn’t even think you’ve actually met the man yet, but you’ve already decided you hate him, that you don’t want to marry him, and so you’ll be firmly stuck in your opinion no matter what anyone says.

“Maybe this isn’t advice I should be giving you, but.. You don’t necessarily have to. To give him your firsts, or love him. Find someone you do love, even if you have to keep it a secret, and hold him with all you’ve got. It still wouldn’t be ideal, of course, but.. Well, it’d be something, at least.” Really, Minho is supposed to encourage you to be an obedient daughter and listen to your father without question, but he knows you well enough to know that’s a fool's errand.

You’re never going to listen, never going to be obedient, never going to stop being opinionated. So what’s the next, most realistic piece of advice he can give? Lie, of course. Make your father and inevitable husband believe you’re a good, obedient wife and daughter, and then go live the life you really want behind their backs. It's dishonest as all hell, and there would be consequences if you got caught, but if you’re going to be miserable no matter what you do, you might as well try, right? It’s what Minho would do if he were you, anyways.

“What about you?” you ask and Minho raises a brow in question. “What about me?” he asks, and what you respond with makes him feel like the air has been punched out of his lungs. “What if I gave my firsts to you?” Did he hear you right? There must be some mistake with his ears, there’s absolutely no way you said what he thinks you did. “You.. what?” Surely you can’t be serious about this. You’re the princess, and he’s just the man who happens to be your guard, a man who is your fathers age at that.

But the way you look at him, he can tell you’re not joking in the slightest. “Princess, I couldn’t possibly accept that,” Minho says sternly, his arms no longer crossed but instead resting on the arms of the chair, hands beginning to grip tightly so he can ground himself and try to make sense of this insane situation. “Why not? I’d be happier if I gave it to someone like you. I trust you,” you say so nonchalantly it makes his head reel. What the fuck is happening right now?

Minho was the ideal man, at least in your opinion. He was handsome, mature, realistic and practical, knew how to reel you in without disregarding the root of what you feel or being disrespectful to you. He never dismissed how you felt, made you feel over emotional or like a fool who overreacts; he’d ask you to see reason, sure, urge you to think more before acting, but he never, never made you feel like your feelings were invalid. And he genuinely cared about you, and you liked him, were attracted to him, so if the opportunity presented itself then.. Why not take the chance?

Fuck. Minho was absolutely fucked. You were just freshly 20 when Minho first met you and became your guard, and hard as he tried to never see you beyond the platonic, he’s always viewed you as an attractive young woman. He liked your fiery spirit, liked how you had the bravery and gall to challenge authority, a skill that in recent months he felt he was sorely lacking. Your attitude was refreshing, and despite your circumstances, you never acted like a damsel in need of his help.

In a different life, in another world, maybe you two could have met as equals, not painfully stuck to the rules of an unfair, unforgiving reality. You’d be each other's foil, you, the impassioned dreamer with as many thoughts and ideas as there were stars in the sky, and he the realist, who didn’t dim your light but tempered it into a steady, sustainable flame. You’d take him out on adventures, out of the strict box of his comfort zone, and he’d ground you more firmly to reality, never discouraging your dreams but making sure you took the necessary steps in the right way, responsibly, matching one another perfectly, complementary and meant for each other.

But that’s not your reality, and you both know it. There would never be any coming back from this if you go through with it, and there’s no ideal, happy future for you two to share. “I’m not so disillusioned to think this would be anything other than sex for you,” you continue, and he swallows, mind still racing impossibly, “but it’d be much more meaningful for me with you than some bastard I don’t like in the slightest.”

You’re wrong. So wrong, and you don’t even know it. It would never be “just sex” with you. You mean much, much more to him than you even realize. “You won’t regret asking a man like me? There’d be no taking it back once it’s done,” Minho can’t help but ask, rationality and reason desperately trying to gain control.

Despite what your father may believe, you’re a grown woman capable of making your own decisions. And this is a decision you make with full knowledge of what it means for you, more than willing to accept whatever consequences may arise for committing such a sin. In an ideal world, you’d be allowed to love who you wish, live where you wish, do what you wish.

But this isn’t an ideal world, and if there is only one thing you can ever be granted in this life that feels as if it isn’t even your own, it would be this- to have one night, just one night, where you can be the person you want to be, with Minho by your side. “You’re free to reject me if you’re not attracted to me, but.. My only regret would have been not trying. So I ask, are you not attracted to me?”

He looks you over carefully, grip on the armrests tightening. Admitting that he’s attracted to you may as well be a death sentence. But he can’t lie to you, completely at your mercy. Fuck the king, it’s you he’s really loyal to. All he’s ever done, all he ever will do, it’s always for you. He’s always tried to act in your best interest, to do the right thing, to keep you safe and protected. But does keeping you safe even matter if you’re miserable?

“I am,” Minho swallows, answering honestly despite his better judgment, “You have no idea how attracted to you I am.” “So why hesitate?” you ask, fingers trail down your lap, over your knees, to where the very bottom of your dress lies. He watches you, eyes darting from your hands back to your face. You’re watching him too, carefully, considering his every reaction before you make your next move, impressively calculated.

You take the hem of your dress in your hands, pulling it up leisurely, getting it halfway up your thighs, and Minho is in front of you in an instant, his hands grabbing your wrists and stopping you from lifting it any further. “You’re playing a dangerous game, Princess,” he breathes, voice low and strained; he can’t lose control of his desires, but fuck, you’re making it so hard. You look up at him, meeting his gaze with the same fiery determination you always have, but there’s more there than just that this time. Desire, want, need- all for him.

Fuck it. He’s going to get burned, but maybe it’s worth it. You’ll be his funeral pyre, engulfing him in your flame until all that remains are the ashes of the man he was supposed to be. And what a beautiful way to end his life it will be, lost between your thighs, feeling your nails dig and claw at his skin. He lets go of your wrists, one of his hands coming to cup your face, thumb tracing over your bottom lip.

“Has anyone ever kissed you, Princess?” he asks and you give a slight shake of the head, breathing a soft “No..” He hums, and there’s a twisted sort of pleasure he derives from knowing he’ll be your first in every conceivable way. You’re not “innocent,” he knows you’re not, but there’s something about being your first kiss, your first cock, your first everything that makes him crazy.

“And you want me to be the first one to kiss you?” he follows up with another question, corners of his mouth threatening to twist into a smile when you nod, a soft, honest “yes” leaving your lips effortlessly. He leans down towards you, keeping your head tilted up so he can easily meet your lips. He does so softly, treating you with care. His lips are softer than you expected, and the feeling of them against your own fills you with butterflies.

He carefully tilts you back, and you let your body fall back onto the mattress, head hitting the surprisingly soft pillows. Minho crawls over you, spreading your legs apart just enough to get between them, your dress now hiked all the way up your thighs. He’s hovering over you, looking down at you with so much love and lust and that it leaves you speechless. “I’ll need you to listen to me tonight. Can you do that for me?” he asks, pressing light kisses to your jaw, under your ear, your neck.

You can, because it’s Minho. He’d never hurt you, never try to control you, never make you feel lesser than. So you can listen to him, because you trust him with your care; he’ll take good care of you, you know he will. He smiles when you nod, and you see him smile so rarely that it makes your heart skip a beat; his role always requires him to be so stern and straight faced, that seeing him smile down at you like this is enough to melt you into a puddle.

“You’re a good girl when you want to be, hmm?” he hums against your neck, resuming his trail of kisses against your skin, and you can’t explain why, but the words and tone he says them in makes your stomach flip. If you were in a different world, and didn’t have to return home to the castle tomorrow, he’d take his time marking your neck, filling it with pretty shades of blue, purple, and red, sinking his teeth into your soft, supple skin.

He just knows you’d look so pretty like that, and the way you react when his breath tickles your skin and his lips linger, tells him you’d like it too. His fingers trail down your body, finding the hem of your dress and pulling it up over your chest. You lift your back off the bed when he separates from your neck, pulling your dress off the rest of the way and discarding it to the floor. He kisses you as he fiddles with the straps of your bra, effortlessly unhooking it in the back and pulling it down your arms and off your body.

He may have never married, but he’s no stranger to being with and pleasuring women. And he’ll make sure he makes this a night you’ll always remember for all the right reasons. Capturing your lips in another kiss, his hands take in your now bare breasts, gently kneading and squeezing. You try to squeeze your legs together, but his place between your thighs stops the act from happening, and he chuckles against your lips when he realizes what you’re doing.

“Be patient, Princess, I’ll take good care of you,” he whispers before kissing you again, and you let out a small whine, not knowing exactly what you want but knowing you want something. You gasp when he takes your nipples between your fingers and pinches them, not too hard of course, but enough to give him the chance to slip his tongue into your mouth. Your body shudders, you feel dizzy with pleasure and excitement, and the feeling of his tongue circling yours is impossibly intoxicating.

One of his hands travels down, over your stomach, coming between your bodies to feel your heat over your panties. He’s barely even begun and you’re already soaking the fabric, your eager anticipation for more of his touch palpable beyond all else. He nips at your bottom lip, gently tugging it between his teeth before soothing the sting with kitten licks, his hand slipping inside your panties to feel how slick you’ve gotten directly.

Your body jolts when his fingers run between your folds, and he barely has to move them at all to get his fingers completely coated in your juices. He pulls back to look at you, taking in the sight of your flushed face and swollen lips, pretty and perfect. You’re panting, breathless, overwhelmed in the best way possible. You keen when his fingers rub over your clit in circles, your teeth sinking into your bottom lip as you lift your head from the pillows to watch.

“Feels good, doesn’t it?” he asks, suppressing a grin when you whine and quickly nod your head. “Want more, want you,” you mutter, the most timid you’ve ever been in regards to a man. He coos, giving you a sweet kiss as he continues his stimulation to your sensitive spot. “Remember what I said? Patience, Princess, you’ll get what you want. We can’t rush and have you getting hurt, can we?”

You pout as you concede, and God, he finds that so cute; he’s never seen you actually act shy and pouty before, and it makes him want to give you the entire world. He’ll give you everything you want, anything you ask for, but he’ll have to remember to tease you first so he can see that cute expression on your face before he gives in to your whims. “I’ll make sure you’re nice and ready for my cock, so just be a good girl and follow my lead until then. You can do that for me easily, can’t you?”

Another shy nod, another adorable flushed look that makes his cock throb in his trousers. It was a little intimidating for you, knowing how experienced Minho must be due to his age, and feeling like you must fall short in comparison to other women, women who knew what they were doing, but really, that was just your own insecurity talking. He didn’t mind at all that you were inexperienced; in fact, it excited him for reasons he didn’t entirely understand.

Maybe it was the knowledge that he was the first to touch your skin, or maybe that someone as determined and fiery as you are is allowing yourself to concede control, to let him be in charge of your pleasure, trusting him to bring you to utmost bliss. What bigger display of trust could you ever show him? Your glassy, pleading eyes, begging him for more but still waiting for it just as he asked- you’re too good for him. He’s going to ruin you.

He takes his fingers away, and you have to physically stop yourself from whining at the lack of contact, lest he remind you again about “being patient.” “Open your mouth for me,” Minho requests, and though you are a bit confused, you do as he asks immediately, obeying without question. Fuck, that’s hot; the image of you, mouth open, tongue slightly sticking out and waiting to receive whatever he gives you is something he never wants to forget.

Minho slides two of his fingers into your mouth, instructing you to lick, to get his fingers nice and wet. Truthfully, you were more than lubricated enough to take his fingers without this step, but he couldn’t resist the urge to see you this way. He pushes his fingers in your mouth down to the knuckle, and you persist with coating them in your saliva even as you gag and tears prick the corners of your eyes.

He showers you with praise, slipping his fingers out of your mouth when he feels satisfied with the work you’ve done on them, kissing your cheeks, feeling the heat of your face on his lips. Slipping his hand back inside your panties, he presses the tips of his wet fingers to your hole, and you instinctively suck in a breath, body unconsciously tensing from the anticipation. “You have to relax, Princess, it won’t feel good if you’re tense,” he explains sweetly, shaking his head when you mutter a soft apology.

“Don’t be sorry, not for that. Just focus on me, hmm? On this,” he whispers, his lips lingering on yours in a deep, impassioned kiss. His fingers stay completely still until he feels your body start to release its tension, heeding his advice to focus more on his kisses than the motion of his fingers. He keeps kissing you even as the first of his fingers finally starts to push inside you, and you moan into his mouth, hot pleasure licking your skin.

He moves his finger in and out slowly, making sure you’re well adjusted before he pushes in another one, hooking his fingers to find that delicious sweet spot he knows will have you crying his name in no time. You gasp loudly when he finds it, your hands twisting the sheets beneath you between your fingers, your entire body trembling. It feels so good you almost can’t breathe, and when he picks up his pace, hitting your spot over and over as he brings his thumb to your clit, you know you won’t last long at all.

“M-Minho, I’m- I’m gonna-” you try to warn him, but the words die in your throat, the pleasure too overwhelming to continue to try and form a sentence. He simply hums, continuing his motions until your eyes are rolling to the back of your head, sharp, shuddery gasps and moans tumbling from your lips as your orgasm takes you. “That’s it, just let go, just like that, I’ve got you,” he praises, pressing kisses to your hot skin, helping you ride out your high.

Before you can even fully recollect your breath and get your racing heart back under control, he’s pushing a third finger inside, the trembling in your body intensifying from the addition. “You need more to get ready for me,” he tells you, and in your fucked out state all you can do is nod, taking his word as gospel truth, “need to stretch you good to make sure my cock fits.” All you can do is lay there and take the onslaught of pleasure, unable to think of about anything other than how full and good his fingers make you feel.

You don’t even register that he’s moved your down your body and tugged your panties to the side until his tongue is meeting your clit, swirling around it in expertly practiced circles, making you desperately cry out his name. Your fingers tangle in his hair, tugging harshly as your hips buck up to keep feeling the delicious sensation his tongue provides you. He flattens his tongue and lets you grind against it as you want, the motions of his fingers not stuttering or ceasing despite the movement of your hips.

You feel the familiar heat pooling your stomach, another orgasm approaching quickly, the sounds you release turning into desperate whines and whimpers as you chase the feeling. It only takes a few more rolls of your hips and thrusts of his fingers to have you releasing all over his face, your juices gushing around his fingers. He sits up and pulls his fingers out when your body falls limp, chest heaving and ears ringing as you try to recover from the mind-blowing experience you just had.

Your eyes are closed, and you can feel his weight shift, can hear the soft clink of his belt unbuckling, followed by the rustling of clothes. You open your eyes to see Minho’s cock is now out, his hand lazily pumping it and spreading the pre-cum that accumulated and dripped over his time focusing on you. You reach a hand out to touch it, to replace his hand with your own, but he grabs your hand before you can, instead making you intertwine your fingers.

“Tonight’s all about you, Princess. Don’t worry about taking care of me,” he says, kissing the back of your hand and then holding it down right above your head; you’re not quite pinned, easily able to snake your hand out of his hold if you wanted to, but you have to admit, you like the feeling of his hand keeping yours held down. He rubs his cock between your folds before he lines himself up with your entrance, though you didn’t miss the subtle smirk on his face when you whined from the feeling of his tip rubbing against your clit.

“Squeeze my hand if you need to,” Minho tells you before taking your free hand and bringing it up to his shoulder, “and hold onto me.” Your heart squeezes in your chest; the hidden romantic in you yearns to tell him you love him, to thank him for taking such good care of you, to express how you never want this night to end, but you know that would be a mistake. Neither of you can afford to let your emotions spill out, so you swallow them down the best you can, deciding to just live in this moment, to experience it for all that it is and all that it means for you.

The initial push is slow, and thanks to his diligent preparation, there is little physical pain or discomfort you experience from the stretch of his cock. A slight sting, sure, but nothing you can’t easily handle, and it’s barely even recognizable when compared to the pleasant fullness you feel. So when you squeeze his hand, and your eyes well with tears, it’s not because you are pained; it’s because you finally have something you want, a happiness you thought would forever elude you.

He takes his free hand and wipes away the tears from your eyes, a soft look of concern on his face. “Hurts?” he asks, but you shake your head quickly. “Feels good, I just.. I..” you struggle with the words, knowing you can’t express how you actually feel even if you felt you could. “I know. You don’t have to say it, I know,” Minho speaks to you softly, and the kiss he gives you very nearly makes you sob.

There’s still a few inches left before he’s fully inside you, and he pushes the remainder in slowly as he continues to kiss you, his free hand now rubbing soothing circles on your hip with his thumb. Minho does well at maintaining composure, staying firmly in control of himself and his body despite the way your walls squeeze and suck him in, despite the way you whimper when you feel him throb, or cry out against his lips when his tip kisses your deepest spots.

“That’s a good girl, taking all I give you, doing so well,” he praises you some more, and you love when he tells you how good you’re doing if the way you clench around him is any indicator. “Fuck, Princess-” he groans when he finally starts to move, pulling out and pressing back in much more slowly than he normally would, but the wet friction you provide him is delicious. “Minho, I-” you start, interrupted by a sharp gasp when he finds your sweet spot with his cock.

He looks at you as he stills his hips, patiently waiting for you to continue in case what you have to say is important, or a request for him to stop. You swallow, face heating up but determined to get out what you want to say. “J-Just this once, I don’t want to be the princess. Call me by name, please-” Oh, that’s what you want? He can do that, easily; he’s already groaned your name countless times in the privacy of his room, stroking his cock to the thought of you.

The sound of your name falling from his lips as he resumes the thrust of his hips has you clenching hard, stars erupting in your vision as he picks up his pace, beginning to quickly and mercilessly hit your spot, over and over again. He takes one of your legs and props it up over his shoulder, allowing more of his cock to fill you up, the creaking of the bed and the sound of skin slapping beginning to overpower the noise from downstairs.

Taking his other hand away from yours, you’ll have to forgive him, he licks his fingers and then brings them to your clit, wanting nothing more than to see and feel you release on his cock. It only takes a few more thrusts and circles from his fingers to have you crying out his name as you cum, fingers digging into the sheets beneath you as your body shakes and legs tremble. But Minho hasn’t cum yet, so he’s not quite done with you, not that you mind in the slightest; you’ll let him chase his pleasure as long as he wishes, even if it leaves you a drooling, fucked out mess in the end.

He pulls out of you, just long enough to sit against the headboard, and then he’s pulling you on top of him, guiding you to sink back down on his cock and sit fully in his lap. The new position has you rolling your eyes to the back of your head, Minho guiding the movement of your hips with his hands as he thrusts up into you. He’s quite literally doing all the work, but that’s perfectly fine; this night is supposed to be about you, after all, and he doesn’t want you to lift a pretty little finger. Just let him use you a little until he cums, that’s all he needs.

You’re panting against his neck, head laid on his shoulder and nails digging into the skin of his back beneath his shoulder blades. The sting of your nails in his skin is just how he imagined it to be, and his head is falling back against the headboard, low grunts and groans of your name leaving freely as his cock throbs and twitches, getting closer and closer to his release. He uses one of his hands to grab your face and lift it up to his, crashing his lips to yours in a desperate, impassioned display of love and lust.

A few more snaps of his hips and you feel his cum spurting inside you in long, thick ropes, the sensation sending you forward into yet another orgasm of your own, your desperate sounds muffled only by Minho’s mouth on yours. Your body collapses against his when the moment slows to a stop, both of your chests heaving and breaths heavy as you lie against him, his arms wrapped around you snuggly and keeping you upright against his chest.

You can hear the quick, erratic beating of his heart as he catches his breath, looking up at him to see his eyes closed and sweat trailing down his brow towards his cheek. He looks beautiful like this, you think; you hope he thought the same of you. Even as his cock starts to soften, neither of you move, and though your legs protest and beg to be stretched out, you refuse to leave your spot on Minho’s lap.

“Are you alright, Princess?” he asks once he’s collected himself, pushing your hair from your face and wiping the sweat from your brow. “Mhm, just want to stay like this,” you reply, and Minho smiles softly, rubbing over your shoulders and down your back in a sweet gesture of comfort. You’re silent like this for some time, just simply enjoying the feeling of him, the sound of the crackling fire, the warmth he and this room provides you.

“Does my happiness really have to end here?” you can’t help but quietly ask, and Minho is quiet for a moment, carefully considering before he speaks. In a different world, in a different time, in a different place, maybe the two of you are meant to be. There’s comfort in imagining yourself there, truly happy with Minho, letting him care for you while not snuffing out the flame that is your pride, ambition, and spirit.

It’s not meant to be, you both know that to be true. To be with each other required great risk, sacrifice, hardship. But again he has to wonder, is being safe worth the cost of happiness? Would you even truly be “alive” if your every moment was spent miserably? He doesn’t want to see the very core of what makes you you be snuffed out by selfish, idiotic men and their expectations of what you should be.

You’re much younger than him, and it would be impossible for him to be there for you for the rest of your life, but he can be for the rest of his, at least. “Maybe not,” he answers, unsure of what the future holds for the two of you, but not entirely ready to give up so easily. He could accept his fate, accept that love is something out of his reach, but it’s your happiness on the line that makes him want to fight for it.

There’s a lot he could lose by helping you escape this life you feel trapped in, but he’d rather see you happy than wasting your days away in the castle, subservient to a man you loathe. Your love isn’t meant to be, but that’s okay; he’ll help you all the same. He’s loyal to you, and only you, he’s decided- so if you make your future husband, your father, the entire kingdom your enemy, then they’ll be his enemy too. And it’ll all be worth it just to see you smile for a little bit longer.

#skz x reader #lee know x reader #lee minho x reader #skz smut #lee know smut #lee minho smut #skz imagines #skz scenarios #not me posting a fic again literally 4 days after my last one i am serious when i say i was possessed to write this #also not posting between the hours of 4-7am for once that is a win for me !!#mdni + divider graphic credit: @cafekitsune

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