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#this is kind of what he wears in my fic im writing too
ohbother2 · 3 months
Note
Tha hazbin hotel brainrot is so strong, your writing is so good im kicking feet hsujsjsn
May i request a Lucifer X reader where they are pining so badly for each other and ends up in a situation where they are very close to one another? Like the classic " oh shit we're stuck in a small space together and so close" or "whoops tripped and fell now I'm pinning you down and panicking" kind of thing but it's really all up to you <3 and then they end up just full on making out lol, cause yearning,,
(I simply need making out fics with the short king he's taking over my brain😭)
Thanks for requesting!! I had a lot of fun with this one :) Hope you enjoy! Also, I only realised when I went to post this that this ask didn't specify a f!reader, but I thought it did so just a warning for you guys. It's not too specific but... not entirely gender neutral.
This probably borderlines smut, so... minors DNI.
Lucifer x f!reader
PART II
You had been Lucifer's secretary for many years now, joining him just after the disappearance of his ex-wife Lilith when he had decided he needed more help with his duties. You had been there for some of the worst years of his life, assisting him through the highs and lows of being the King of Hell, had seen him at his worst, and at his best. You had helped guide him from the deepest depths of depression, and for that he was eternally grateful, batting away the darkness with a smile enchanting enough to light up the dingiest corners of Hell. He truly didn't know what he would do without you, and today that was evermore apparent.
It had been a long day, and Lucifer found himself sat at his large desk, dark bags sitting heavy underneath his tired and bloodshot eyes, jacket and hat discarded and head resting in his hands as he tried to focus on the mountains of paperwork scattered along his ornate desk. He had been stuck in this position for hours, and he could feel his back creak and something in his neck twinge whenever he shifted. He truly desired nothing more than to crawl into bed, but he had duties that he couldn't just abandon.
A soft knock at his door signals your presence, and only his gaze lifts when you enter, tray in hand and that familiar comforting smile adorned on your rosy lips. Your smile morphs into something more fond as you approach the hunched man, who runs his hands through his disheveled locks and leans back in his plush chair, hands rubbing at the tiredness of his eyes and dragging down his cheeks. He looked tired, he looked weary, his waistcoat unbuttoned, his shirt wrinkled and rolled to his elbows, blonde locks falling across his forehead. You always loved when he looked a little disheveled, appreciating his strong forearms that flexed as he clenched his hands into his hair. It was more rugged than he ever let himself look in any other situation, and you couldn't get enough. You had to fight a frown at seeing how utterly exhausted he was, however, not enjoying the darkness encircling his bright eyes. He didn't hide these things from you, he had no need to; you wouldn't threaten his power at seeing this display of weakness, you would just smile and offer reassurance, appearing with a cup of steaming tea to quell his nerves.
"Good evening, sir." You place the tray against the edge of the desk, trying not to disturb any of the numerous documents that lay strewn about, though you doubted there was any system to the disarray.
"'Evening." He leans further back in his chair, watching you tiredly as you shuffle some of his papers to the side. "How many times do I need to tell you not to call me that? We're good friends, 'Your Royal Highness' is more than fine.''
"Apologies, 'Your Majesty'." You attempt a curtsy, though that was hard with the tight pencil skirt you had chosen to wear today. He laughs at your efforts, taking the steaming tea from your hands with a grateful nod, sighing as the scolding liquid reaches his lips.
"You're marvellous, you know? I don't know what I'd do without you."
"I brought you some tea." You back-hand his compliment away, as you always did, gaze turning to try and decipher some of his scrawling writing. You always found it easier to fight away the blush rising to your cheeks by confusing yourself with his work, that method hadn't failed you yet.
"You're here on a Friday night, looking after some tired old sod, when I'm sure you had many potential plans to go to." His gaze travels up from your hip that you had propped against the desk to tidy some books, up past the curve of your waist, the swell of your chest, gaze lingering a little too long on the collarbone that peaked from beneath your blouse, before finally resting on your face. He stares again, sipping slowly from his cup, far too long for a boss to appreciate an employee, mapping the curve of your brows, the light downturn of your lips as you tried to read something on the desk, the way your hair cascaded around your features. He was tired, he usually controlled himself better. "I wish you'd take a weekend off some time."
Your gaze finally returns to him, satisfied with the state of his desk and you lean back, both hands gripping the desk ledge. "Hypocritical coming from you, don't you think? When did you last have a weekend off?"
"Hmm," He hums, finishing his drink and placing it onto his desk. He rolls his neck in an effort to rid of the crick that was increasingly bothering him. You notice, you frown. "If I am nothing else, call me a hypocrite. You should be out - I don't want to see you here tomorrow night, I want to see you on Sunday morning with a horrendous hangover and stories to tell me."
You laugh, the King of Hell instructing you to go and shirk off your responsibilities and get smashed? Only Lucifer would tell an employee that.
"We both know that won't happen." You grin, taking the opportunity to reach forward and push some of his blonde locks back from his forehead, attempting to push them back into their usual immaculate style. He swallows tightly as you do, having to fight himself from leaning into your touch. You were so gentle, and that fond smile remained etched onto your face as you did so, and God he wanted you to keep caressing his face until he fell asleep right then and there. "Come on now Luci, this place would fall apart without me."
"I can cope one day without you." He bluffs, leaning heavily onto his right armrest and closer to you, legs crossing as he fully relaxes - work didn't matter right now, you did.
"You're so sure?" You shift your stance, and he notices in his peripheral how your tight skirt lifted slightly, exposing more of your milky thigh.
"Not at all." His confidence in the statement has you laughing lightly, the King of Hell grinning up at you and admitting how royally screwed he would be without you. "In fact, I'd probably be dead the next time you walked into work. But wouldn't that be a fun story?"
"I would much rather you be alive." You slowly leave your position leant against the desk, deciding enough was enough as he winces again and rubs at a sore spot in his neck. "I do quite enjoy your company, you know."
Your hands suddenly fall against his shoulders, and he lurches in his seat, shrinking away from the cold pads of your fingers that pressed delicately against either of his shoulder blades.
"Uh-" His voice is uncharacteristically high pitched, and he has to clear his throat to stop it from breaking embarrassingly. "Y/N, what are you-" His fingers grip at his thighs as your fingers move, pressing firmly against his worn muscles. Oh heavens, that felt good.
"You've been rubbing your neck since I walked through the door." You explain, completely focussed on your task at hand and unaware of the red hue that was steadily growing on Lucifer's rosy cheeks. "You need to give yourself a break."
This was rather a bold move from yourself, but you were nothing if not opportunistic. That's how you landed this job in the first place. Your hands work steadily, finally reaching the centre of his back and gliding your thumbs up his spine, up the centre of his neck, and directly into the base of his skull. His head rocks forward lightly at the movement and he groans at the action. You continue to work at his neck, and he remains sat, eyes closed tightly, clawed hands nearly tearing through his own trousers, bruising his own thighs, feeling as though he were back in Heaven. He could feel how close you were, the heat of your body wafting across his neck and shoulders as you worked, and he had to concentrate immensely to control the sounds that wanted to escape his throat. He had nearly combusted on the spot when he had audibly groaned, but you hadn't commented on it, for which he was eternally grateful.
After several minutes, that both felt like an eternity of torture and mere seconds of bliss for Lucifer, you pull your hands back, finishing with one final carding of your fingers through the short tufts of hair at his nape. His eyes open blearily at the loss of contact, blinking heavily as he watches you gather the tray into your arms, adorning his empty cup, and a stack of paperwork.
"Y/N what are you- absolutely not, leave those here." He reaches for the papers now stacked on your tray, and you lift it higher out of his reach unless he stood. He realises his dilemma, firmly rooted into his seat unless he wanted to make an incredibly embarrassing and inappropriate reveal.
"It's only the menial stuff I do sometimes." You step away from the desk slowly, heels clicking as you go. "Besides, it's barely made a dent. I'll have them finished and with you tomorrow morning."
"You should be sleeping." He warns, leaning his elbows against his desk and watching you leave.
"No no." You mock, pausing with a hand on the handle to the door. "We should be up and having fun, making embarrassing stories to share tomorrow. I, for one, can't wait to hear about the hilarious tales of Lucifer and his mountains of paperwork. I'll make sure my story is juicy, these accounting papers are always full of gossip." You lie plainly, and Lucifer shakes his head with a grin.
"Thank you." He calls as you open the door. "I mean it."
"I always have you to thank for a wild Friday night." You grin, finally leaving through the door you had entered from with a bow of your head.
Lucifer sinks into his seat, sighing heavily as the room plunges into silence once again. He stares at the papers that still littered his desk - you had lied, you had taken a sizeable amount. Your presence had helped, and your fingers had fully relaxed the tight muscles in his back and neck, and he felt immensely better than he had mere minutes before. However, you had created an entirely new problem. He shifts at the uncomfortable tightness to his trousers, hands dragging through his hair as he thought, hard. There was no point sitting here if he wasn't able to focus. He raises from his seat, cursing his inability to man up and just tell you how he felt.
Bathroom first, and then he would focus on his paperwork.
---
A month later, Lucifer had been in charge of organising a fancy ball with some incredibly important guests - the 7 Sins of Hell and a smattering of other Royal households, as well as general persons of influence from all 7 rings. The event was to be held in the Pride ring, and as soon as it had been organised he had practically pleaded with you to attend. You hadn't been able to go to the previous events, being stuck in the Pride ring due to your human-soul. Lucifer had been ecstatic when he realised you could attend, and had nearly cried when you had agreed to go with him. Not as a date, no, definitely not, but as friends.
"We're late!" Your voice shouts as you hurry through the door to Lucifer's office, heels in one hand and your purse in the other. Your eyes land on Lucifer, who was stood fiddling with his tie in front of a mirror on the wall, forked tongue stuck out as he concentrated. "Luci, the driver's outside."
"I know, I know." He stresses, finishing off his tie and attempting to smooth down the lapels of his jacket, finally turning towards you as he arranged his cuff sleeves. "It's fine, he'll w-wait-" He stutters as his eyes finally land on you, pupils widening significantly as he forces out "for us."
You never really dolled yourself up that much, usually wearing typical office attire, and sometimes even wearing casual clothes if you were in the office particularly late. Tonight, you had gone full out - you pretended it was because of the nerves about being around such powerful figures in Hell, in reality, you wanted to impress Lucifer, you likely wouldn't get another opportunity to doll yourself up so much again, and you wanted to make the most of it. Even if nothing happened, you wanted to prove you could be just as beautiful as the Overlords and Royalty he frequented.
As you stand, hesitantly, reapplying your rouge lipstick with your small compact mirror and fluffing your hair, Lucifer stands star-struck, eyes glued to your figure. You wore an elegant black velvet dress that clasped around the back of your neck. The elegant midnight coloured dress hugged your torso tightly, and Lucifer's gaze hovered heavily. The fabric was tight and emphasised your curves, with the neckline dipping down sinfully low and exposing the rivulet between your breasts, a beautiful ruby jewel hanging from a silver chain right between the valley of your breasts, the dress cinched tightly at your waist and fell elegantly from your hips. He could see one of your smooth legs from a slit in the side of the dress. You close the mirror and pop it back into your silver purse, smiling brightly at the stunned man.
"My- Y/N you look stunning." Lucifer compliments, leaning back against his desk as he finishes clasping his cuff links. "A vision. Dare I say, I'll be having to fight away the suitors all evening."
You blush furiously, thankful for the makeup that covered your cheeks. He pauses, swallowing thickly as you bend down to begin fastening your shoes.
"Please stay away from Asmodeus."
You laugh as you continue to fiddle with your shoes, glancing up at him as you tie the clasp. "You flatterer. Should I expect to see you pulling these moves on all the girls there tonight?"
You jest, but Lucifer is so enraptured by you he cannot help but feel insulted you would even think he would entertain the notion of other women. He speaks quietly, watching you struggle to gain your balance as you try and put on the other heel. "Not at all."
He didn't know what compelled him to do it, maybe it was the way you wobbled as you tried to get into your second shoe, likely it was the fact he'd already had two glasses of wine to quell his nerves, but before he realises it he's kneeling in front of you and grasping your ankle in a feather-light grip.
You freeze as his hands replace your own, sliding your foot easily into your heel as your hand comes to rest on his shoulder to regain your balance. He works slowly, gently fixing the clasp of your elegant heel, head turning up towards you and smiling up at you. Your breath catches in your throat, Lucifers hands resting against your ankle and calf, disarming you with a charming smile and lidded eyes, and kneeling directly in front of you. His hand slides up your calf as he lets you go, standing back to his full height easily, now a little shorter than you with your heels properly on.
"T-Thank you." You breathe, fixing the slit of your dress that had become creased. Your own hands reach forward, straightening his tie and smoothing down his collar. "You look very handsome yourself."
He smiles, self-satisfied, as you fix his collar, and then immediately schools his expression to hide his awe-struck grin when he realises you were actually looking at him. "Thank you, thank you." He chirps, cane materialising in his left hand and twirling it, trying to distract himself from how close you were, and how absolutely beautiful you looked. "I think we'll make quite an entrance. Don't you?" He offers you his right arm, and you take it with a grateful nod as you both leave the office and head towards the taxi. "That is, if you manage to walk down all those stairs with those stilts under your feet."
"I'm excellent in heels." You defend, rather enjoying the way your arm brushes against his chest as you walk, the smell of his expensive cologne reaching your nose. "We'll have a problem if you start drinking, you can barely stand straight after a bottle of wine, and I certainly can't carry you home in these heels."
"Oh? You're insulting my drinking skills? What about the time I had to come and collect you from a party I wasn't even invited to, to teleport you home? I could barely understand you through the phone." He clears his throat, raising his voice high and slurring his words mockingly. "Luci- I-I'm not drunk, BUT-"
You whack his shoulder, remembering the night perfectly, and utterly mortified he had had to guide you home after you'd had a few too many. "Shut up, you're no better at holding your drink."
He laughs, and you feel the rumble of his chest against your forearm. "I suppose we'll have to wait and see."
---
It had been several months since the party, and Lucifer was growing increasingly frustrated at his inability to make any sort of move on you. Hell, he hadn't even kissed your hand, which was something he had had to do to more people than he could count. He was desperate to make his feelings known, and yet was utterly paralysed whenever the opportunity arose for him to express them. It didn't help that ever since his stunt with your heel, you had become more emboldened with your flirting attempts, but he always doubted whether your words and actions were actually meant flirtatiously, or if he was just romanticising all of your interactions in his own head.
The party had been... uneventful. True to his predictions, Lucifer had been having to whisk you away from attempted suitors all night, and at one point had grown so irate at a particular demon's attempts he had placed a hand at the small of your back and refused to remove it until the demon had thoroughly gotten the point and left the conversation. The event had only made him realise his feelings more for you, being positively furious that he couldn't just tell the other demon's you were his, and to piss off back to whatever Ring they had come from. The next passing months had been nothing short of torture as he grappled with whether to confess, or not.
Despite his wishes, things had carried on as normal, and it was absolutely maddening. He had even spoken to Charlie about his dilemma, but she hadn't been much help, just shrieking at him excitedly through the phone. He had been so desperate he had nearly asked Asmodeus for help, but he had quickly decided against that after remembering some of the stunts he had pulled in their younger years.
Now, he sat back at his desk at 2am, frowning after realising he didn't have all the documents he needed. His hat and jacket were once again discarded, and his sleeves pushed up to his elbows in his signature 'I am having a bad day' fashion.
"Y/N!" He calls, and your head pokes out from a filing cupboard you had been tasked with organising. He smiles at you, a hand running through his hair as he sits back. "Can you please find me the letter we got from Wrath about the expenses for that new armament shop? I think it was sent by a Mr. Pennine."
"Yep!" You chirp, disappearing back into the cupboard with the sounds of shuffling papers increasing. Lucifer scans the document in his hands, patiently awaiting the file.
He hears a thump, and a groan, and he straightens in his chair, trying to see what you were doing.
"I've found it." You emerge, rubbing the base of your spine with a wince. An airy laugh falls form his lips.
"What did you do?"
"It's on a high shelf that I can't reach - I fell trying to climb and get it."
Lucifer laughs properly this time, already beginning to stand from his seat and head towards you, shoulders shaking as he does.
"It's not funny."
"I think you'll find it's hilarious." He grins, walking past you and into the small storage cupboard. "Right, where is it?" He glances around the cupboard with an eyebrow raised. He hated this kind of menial work, and was frankly terrible at locating things within this jumbled mess. "I have no clue how this system works."
"Hmm, filing has never been your strong suit." You hum, appearing behind him, having to press close in the small space. A hand appears in his peripheral, motioning over his shoulder to a shelf even he would have to climb to reach. He sighs, releasing a breath as he places a foot against an unsteady shelving unit.
"Yes, another one of my many limitations. Thankfully you're so good at finding things for me." He grins over his shoulder at you, hauling himself up until he's at eye level with the correct shelf. You stand beneath him, arms outstretched tentatively, just in case.
"If I fall, I fully expect you to save me." He comments, brows furrowed as he sifts through the files, looking for a 'Mr Pennine' to catch his eye. When he does find it, he wafts the document about his head, calling down to your worried expression. "Seems I'm doing a better job than my own assistant."
You cock your head at him, taking a small step back as he readies to climb down. "Truly, don't even know why I'm here sometimes-"
You hear a worrying creak as his foot lands on the next shelf down, and his gaze locks with yours for a mere moment before the shelf breaks and he plummets to the ground. He lands on you with a yell, flattening you against the floor and opposite wall and sprawled across your lap in a heap. The whole cupboard shakes with the fall, and the door slams shut with surprising force, plunging the room into darkness.
Lucifer groans, pushing himself back up onto his knees, rubbing an elbow tenderly as he attempts to stand, back smacking into another shelf as he tries to back up. You groan as well, hunched against the wall and thoroughly winded, not entirely sure what had happened.
"Y/N! I'm so sorry, are you alright?!" Lucifer attempts to bend down to reach you, glowing eyes staring at you through the darkness, but his back smacks against another shelf. He stands there, half-hunched, useless as you try and push yourself to your feet, clinging onto a shelf to haul you upright. He can feel you moving against his legs, the cupboard really not meant to house two bodies, and when you finally stand your body presses far too close to his for comfort. He smacks the cupboard door harshly, hoping that the lock hadn't fully sealed from the outside, but the hinges remain firm. "Oh, fuck." He groans, leaning back against a shelf and staring down at you, one hand still pressed pathetically against the door. "Looks like we're trapped."
You, on the other hand, are unable to see anything except the glowing pair of amber and ruby eyes staring down at you, not possessing the enhanced vision Lucifer did. Your hands search the walls aimlessly, and you attempt to press yourself back into the opposite wall to try and create some space. Despite both of your best efforts, you can still feel the heat emanating from his body, barely inches of space between you. "Can you portal us out?" You question desperately, blinking furiously to try and see more of your surroundings.
"There isn't enough room."
You both plunge into silence, and you wring your hands together nervously. Who would find you? When was the next person scheduled to meet Lucifer? It was 2am, who else would be awake at this time? God, he was so close, you could feel his breath fanning across your forehead and hair. You rub at a saw spot near your temple, having smacked into a shelf during Lucifer's rapid decent.
A hand lands against the side of your face without warning, and you jerk at the unexpected contact in the darkness.
"Sorry!" Lucifer draws his hand back as quickly as he had placed it, returning it to his side and flexing his fingers. "I forget you can't see as well." His hand approaches much more slowly, fingers carding your hair away from your face. "I was just trying to check your head, you hit it pretty hard when I fell on you. When I said I expected you to save me, I didn't mean to sacrifice yourself as my landing pad."
"That's what I'm here for." You joke, missing the contact as he withdraws his hand, satisfied that the skin hadn't broken. "I'm fine, don't worry." You smile despite the darkness, knowing he could see.
"We'll be fine." He assures, though he wasn't sure if he was talking to you or himself, he laughs to himself, trying to dispel the anxiety in his chest. "Someone will find us soon."
You hum, doubting him very much. All you could do was wait.
God-knows how long you had spent in that closet, but it didn't take long before you were unbuttoning the first few buttons of your blouse and complaining about the heat. Lucifer hadn't been his normal chatty self, and instead leant heavily against the shelves behind him, hands gripping at the shelves that ran along either wall to prevent himself from reaching out towards you. You were so close, so warm and smelling so sweat pressed against him, all it would take was an inch of moment, barely a lift of a finger, and he'd be able to pull you close, to draw you towards his chest just like he had dreamed about for years now. It didn't help that you kept shifting your weight from foot to foot, feet aching from the amount of time you had just had to stand still, seemingly completely unaware of the way it made your hip rub against his pelvis.
He was a sweating, panicking mess, and he had twisted his torso uncomfortably, back hunched, to prevent the effects of your movements on him pressing against you. He could see your innocent expression through the darkness, the way your eyes searched blindly in the cramped space, and he wanted nothing more than to reach forward and press his lips against your neck, and not stop until someone found you the next morning.
But, he was a gentleman, and he had control, despite what his body was doing of its own accord, and so he gripped the shelving either side of your head and tried desperately to think about other things.
That was until you tried to lean against the shelf to your left, causing your thigh to rub the slowly growing bulge he had been desperately trying to hide. Lucifer's breath hitches in the darkness.
"Are you okay?" You ask, having picked up on his quickened breathing. You couldn't see him at all despite the amber eyes that flicked around the room incessantly, but you could feel his legs pressing against yours, and you could faintly feel the presence of an arm close to your head. When his amber irises land on you, you have a perfect view of the way they dilate, and you furrow your brows. "Is there something wrong?"
"God, would you stop moving." His voice was tight, straining in his throat as he tried his best to remain composed. He was fully aware you weren't even doing anything, but a love-sick pining man pressed so close up against his crush for so long? Who could blame a man for growing flustered.
You shift, attempting to lean towards him to see what was wrong, but two hands are suddenly on your hips and pushing you away from him and back into the shelf behind you, grip vice-like over the fabric of your trousers. You can feel his ragged breath against your forehead. "Heaven, please stop."
"What are you-" You go to argue, but the way his grip tightens against your hips has you halting. You stare for a moment, and it takes you far too long to put the pieces together in your mind: the dilated pupils, the shaky breaths, the way he pushes you away from his hips. Oh.
"Sir, it's okay-"
"Please stop talking." He practically begs, face a fiery red and really wishing for death right about now. "I'm sorry. It's inappropriate. You keep moving and you're so close. You don't have to work for me again after this, I'll understand-"
"Lucifer," You interrupt his rambling, hands coming to rest atop his own on your hips, sliding them up his forearms and resting atop the junction of his elbow. "you know you're the densest man I've ever met."
No response greets you for a moment.
"I said I'm sorry, you don't have to insult me too."
The hurt in his voice has your face twisting into a sympathetic smile. He really was oblivious.
"I'm insulting you, because there's an opportunity right in front of you, and you're not taking it."
You can hear the way his breathing deepens. "What do you-"
You lean forward, impossibly closer, chest pressing against his own. You can feel the way he gasps at the contact. He still has a hold of your hips, pining them away from him like a man burned.
"I'm going to die." He suddenly blurts, his breaths short and panting. His composure was slipping. "You're going to kill me if you keep doing that."
"I'd much prefer it if you didn't die." One of your hands slides up from his arm to his shoulder, burrowing into the fabric there. A high sound catches in Lucifer's throat, and you grin. "In fact, I'd prefer it if you kissed me like I've been inviting you to for the past few years."
His mind runs blank, nothing but the sound of his heart beat ricocheting between his ears. You wanted this? You wanted him?
"I don't think you understand." He stutters out, arms beginning to end their fight and allowing you to inch closer to him. "I don't want this, I want you. D-Dates-" He falters as your hand travels up his neck to the tufts of hair at the back of his head, gently scratching at his scalp. "and cheesy stuff, not just... filing cupboards."
He'd die if he got to have you only for a few hours, and then had to live the rest of his life returning to mere friendship. He would starve to death.
"It's about time you asked."
"You really want this?" He asks, voice small. His breathing was getting harder.
"Yes." You breathe. "I have for a long time."
That was all the indication he needed, and his lips crashed against yours as his hands enveloped your waist and dragged you flush against him. You gasped at the suddenness, enjoying the feeling of his soft lips atop yours in a delicate, passionate, kiss. One of his large hands remains at the small of your back, keeping you pressed against him as the other travelled up your spine, cradling the back of your head and holding you steady as he presses into you. He groans as your fingers tighten in his hair, both of your hands winding around his neck as you push up into him.
He pulls away for breath, his hot breath fanning your cheeks as he pants. You can see his eyes, half-lidded but impossibly bright, pupils the largest you had ever seen them, staring directly into your own. "Do you have any idea how crazy you've driven me over the past years?" He asks rhetorically, voice low and husky. You don't have a chance to answer before he's kissing you again, a hand gripping at your jaw and neck as he tilts his head, his brows furrowing as he pours all his concentration into the kiss. He kisses like a man starved, like a man who depended on your lungs for oxygen, like a man who would die if he separated for a moment too long. His forked tongue slides against your bottom lip and you open your mouth without question. He licks into your mouth with giddy enthusiasm, groaning into you as his tongue finally slips into your mouth, groaning louder as you submit, tugging at his hair and allowing him to push you back into the door with a thud.
His hand falls from your neck, resuming its place against your hip, thumbs pressing dangerously into your hip bones and pinning you against the wall. You gasp against him as his fingers inch their way beneath the bottom of your blouse, pressing harshly into your supple skin as he sucks the air from your lungs.
You feel dizzy when he pulls away again, and as you catch your haggard breath he ducks his head to graze his lips against your throat. He peppers kisses beneath your ear as a hand slides down to grasp the curve of your ass, the other continuing to pin your hips against the door as he presses his hips flush against your own, rolling his hips lightly. He delves down lower, tongue snaking its way down towards the junction between your neck and shoulder, his fangs nipping at your skin as he presses hot open-mouthed kisses against your pulse point.
"Oh-" You gasp, hands clinging onto his broad shoulders as he corrals you against the doorframe. You tilt your head up and to the side, exposing your neck to him as he hums happily. He finds the spot he wants and presses his teeth harshly against your skin, suckling hungrily and lapping at the bruising skin with his tongue. You groan, a hand gripping his hair as he rolls his hips up, biting into your shoulder as he moans. He grinds against you, continuing to lavish your throat with his eyes closed happily, moaning and groaning into your skin. His breath catches when you roll your hips down to meet his thrusts, and he whimpers when you tug at his hair painfully when he abuses one spot on your neck too much.
"Sir-" You gasp, and suddenly his lips are withdrawn from your neck, and his wide lidded eyes are staring directly into your own. Both of your breathing is ragged as you anticipate his next move, heart in your throat.
"How many times have I told you to stop calling me that?" His hips still against your own, and you whine trying to rub against him, but he pins you in place and rests his lips against your ear, whispering, begging, against your ear. "How many more times do I need to?"
You shudder at his hot breath, hands uselessly clinging to the collar of his ruffled shirt. "Just once more."
"Say," A kiss, pressed heavily against the underside of your jaw. "my" Another kiss, hot against the column of your throat. "name." Another, lavished between your collarbones right at the hollow of your throat. You gasp at the staggering sensation, his tongue wet and hot across your collarbone.
"Lucifer." You gasp, voice high and airy. He rewards you with a grin and a fierce kiss against your lips, pressing your head back into the doorframe. You moan his name again, and his hips rock up into yours involuntarily.
"It's unfair, the effect you have." Lucifer whispers, hands sliding up your sides and beginning to unbutton your blouse. He presses a kiss at the corner of your lips as you help him with the unbuttoning. "That massage you gave me?" You can feel his breath against your lips, and you have to fight not to lean forward into him as he gently pushes your blouse from your shoulders, warm hands sliding down your arms and the fabric bunching at your elbows, not quite falling all the way. "I had to take care of myself afterwards." He tuts against your lips, each purse of his lips pressing a ghost of a kiss to your own, but not quite giving what you wanted. A knee presses between your legs as he delves his tongue into your mouth, and you're too distracted to notice until he rolls his hips into your leg and pushes his thigh up against you. His claws dig at the tender flesh of your sides, leaving light scratches as he returns to your lips, grinning against you as you gasp and whine.
"You're not so innocent." You gasp as he leaves your bruising lips to return to his path down your neck, know able to reach your shoulders and chest, which he takes full advantage of. A hand grasps your thigh firmly and hikes your leg up and around his waist. "You constantly unbutton your shirts around me, stare at me with those eyes, leave your hand on me the entire ball and don't do anything about it. How could I resist?"
"Well, I'm doing something about it now." His voice was infuriatingly giddy, his hand grabs at your thigh through the fabric of your trousers, and he internally wishes you had chosen to wear one of your skirts today. His hips roll into yours at the new angle, and he stutters at the pleasure.
"The ball was not my fault." He presses a bruising kiss against your lips, biting down gently as he pulls away. Murmuring against your ear, you can feel the smile on his lips as he talks. "You have no idea what was going through my head that night. If I had my way, I wouldn't have gotten up from my knees for hours."
The way his silky voice hissed at the last word was downright sinful, and you're too distracted by your own thoughts to realise he had ducked his head back down to your chest.
"Luci." You gasp as he travels lower, peppering kisses down the valley of your breasts, murmuring against your skin, hands sliding lower and lower and tongue chasing them down to your naval. A finger pulls playfully at the front of your bra. Oh no, he couldn't win the upper hand that easily.
Gaining confidence, and determined not to let him be his usual cocksure self, you grasp him by the collar of his shirt. "Don't be unfair." You reprimand. He doesn't protest when you lower yourself to the floor, pulling him beneath you and straddling his hips. The cupboard was just big enough for him to lay down if he bent his knees, and you grin down at him as his hands grip your thighs tightly.
Your hands rest against his chest, and you can feel the heavy rise and fall of his chest as he stares up at you, his fingers flexing against your thighs when you refuse to move. He tries to roll his hips up into you, but you lift yourself just out of his reach.
"Don't do this." He whines, but you only grin down at him, leaning impossibly closer until your chest presses against his. You wish you could see the blush to his cheeks, the parting of his mouth around those little gaps, but instead you settle for staring into his blown pupils.
"Whatever do you mean?" You feign ignorance, shifting lightly and revelling in the way his eyes widened and his claws dug painfully into your skin. You press a kiss against his forehead, his cheek, the corner of his mouth.
A noise traps itself in his throat, you kiss against his jaw, his chin, the other corner of his mouth.
"Sweetheart," He moans, trying to tilt his head to catch your lips with his own. You roll your hips to distract him, and he hisses unhappily. He stares up at you with big puppy-dog eyes, a world away from the confidence he had felt at having his way with you earlier. "please."
"Good." You purr, and he whines when you finally kiss him properly, hips lowering onto him and palms sliding up his chest. You pull away and immediately begin kissing at the underside of his jaw, leaving your own trail of hickeys down the column of his throat. He squirms beneath you, breathing heavy and voice high-pitched as you kiss down his chest, pulling his collar to the side and grazing your teeth along the top of his peck.
One of his hands guide your hips against him, and he jerks his hips, the buckle of his belt biting cooly into the hot skin of your stomach. The other hand lies flat against your back, caressing your spine and sides and pulling you closer, trying to guide you back towards his lips.
He had thought he was in heaven before, but with you above him, he could barely contain himself.
Your hands pull at his hair, tugging at his scalp as you bite into the tense muscle of his shoulder. He closes his eyes painfully tight, muttering incoherently as his fingers flex against you. Your pace was beginning to quicken, and you moan against his shoulder as he whimpers and whines.
"Ngh- wait, stop." His voice breaks around the syllables. He grasps your hips tightly, knuckles white as his claws dig dangerously into the skin at your hips. "Not too fast."
"Another one of your many limitations?" You grin against his neck, feeling the way his chest heaved beneath your hands.
"Hmm," He hums, bleary eyed and uncomfortably hot, warm hand cupping your jaw and bringing your face up to meet his. "You have a way of exposing those."
You give in to what he wants, allowing him to slip his tongue back into your mouth, a hand cupping the back of your head and tangling into your hair, pulling you close and making sure you couldn't get away. You rest against him, revelling in the moment, losing your breath and humming against one another's lips.
Just as you go to move your hips, a hand planting itself against his chest to help your movement, light spills into the cupboard, and you freeze, lips detaching and staring wide-eyed at the shadowy figure stood in the cupboard doorway. You blink furiously, trying to readjust to the harsh light, but Lucifer is quicker to recover and pulls you flush against his chest, attempting to hide your bra from view.
He glares at the worker who remains standing dumbly with a hand on the door handle. Lucifer's hair was a mess, sticking out in every conceivable direction, his cheeks flushed a flaming red, shirt tugged halfway down his chest, with a smattering of lipstick across his lips and jaw, and blossoming bruises dancing across his neck and chest. You weren't in a much better state.
His eyes blaze red.
"Come back in an hour. Close the door."
The worker immediately slams the door shut, plunging the cupboard back into darkness.
Your shoulders begin to shake, laughter bubbling from your throat as you tuck your head into Lucifer's chest. He sighs, resting his head back against the floor and eyes returning to their normal complexion. When you finally compose yourself, you push yourself up with your elbows, grinning down at Lucifer with a cheeky smile.
"Maybe I was too harsh." He mutters, a hand coming up to cup your jaw. He grins cheekily, eyes shining in the darkness. "Where were we?"
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hellonearthtoday · 2 months
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canon is dead I rule the world. dsmp you are MINE
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dsmpblrs ocs shared between the 5 (five) singular people that inhabit this fandom
I'm taking the chance to just talk about my personal dsmp au that is basically canon if you don't think about it
I don't think we as a community wrote enough about demon ctommy. he was always my favorite it just gives him this evil vibe that I think is sooo funny and I always see it in ctommy art but never in literally any fic. and that's fine but imp or whatever-he-is-Tommy will always be real in my heart. in my head he used to be a bird hybrid, but when he died for what was supposed to be the final time they took his fucking wings and gave him cunty demon horns and tail. Death made him emo. for the sake of this narrative his wings used to be white too. Pair this with religious ctommy and you get peak
ctubbo. I think about him a lot. I think personally he wears armor under his coat. You'd think it start to get hot under there, and it does. his solution is to just Never leave the Arctic.
At some point he started developing resting bitch face, because it used to just be resting (autistic face of neutrality) but now he kind of just looks tired all the time. Not like Tommy's rbf where he looks like he's kinda pissed and has a headache 24/7. but at least they're semi matching now. bff's!!! (?) I can't write too much about ctubbo because my cutbbo is like 20 billion contradictions stacked on itself. he's not as simple as my ctommy.
He doesn't wear the red bandana anymore but he can't tell you why and he's not insecure about the scar on his face but he's not proud of it either. I FORGOT TO DRAW CRANBOO AND HIS WEDDING RINGS IM AN ANTI WHAT THE HELLL okay ignoring that blunder, their wedding rings are meant to be on their horns 💔 you can't fucking see cranboos singular (1) horn because it's out of frame, they're too tall.
SPEAKONG OF CRANBOO!!!! snakes in his hair because Hahhaa hattte eye contact????? Medusa???? get it guys get it do you guys get jut
The snakes talk to him. Take that as you will. He's a chronic suit wearer and will literally not wear anything else unless it's under or over the suit. he would like to never try anything new ever he needs this constant in his life or everything will fall apart and the world will end. He knows how to kit up and wear armor but just as a joke he wears random bits of armor in places he literally needs it least. as a fashion statement. Tommy doesn't wear any armor usually bcz who gaf he's not doing that shit
in my perfect world the egg plot in dsmp actually got used better and becsme more than a background plot. it could've been everything. anyway my dsmp au is egg war las Nevadas craziness and I'm right goodnight
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byuntrash101 · 10 months
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the drill
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reader x switch!yunho ft. wooyoung and mingi smut | mdni 6.8k yunho cant seem to pick up anyone at the club. for two main reasons, two problems if you will. the first one: his rizz level is negative and the second one... well it's bigger. much, much bigger. a huge problem wooyoung has named "the drill"
nsfw tags under the cut
alcohol consumption, ons to lovers (?), yunho's kind of a loser but so are you, mingi is a fuck boy, woo is the annoyingly clairvoyant friend <3, switch dom leaning!yunho, pushing the monster cock!yunho agenda (consider this fic a peer reviewed academic study), no but seriously he's H.U.G.E., size training, oral (m & f), very difficult blowjob (because duhh), choking on cock (duh x2), a dash of spit kink, fingering, pet names (baby, good girl), praising, protected sex (good job kids), bulge kink, slight edging, slight begging (not my fic without it lol), slight cumplay
a/n: i had a blasttt writing this im pretty happy with this i hope you will enjoy reading it too. thank you @cybrsan for beta reading this. you are so kind and i learned a lot <3
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Yunho didn't even know why he stood here. He didn't know how he let Wooyoung and Mingi drag him to yet an other party. To this packed night club while he originally invited them over to play league of legends, maybe drink a couple of beers and chill. Cause that's what he wanted to do. He wanted to spend a quiet night in, hearing Mingi complain about how he didn't want to play healer anymore and having Wooyoung shatter his eardrums with that infuriating hyena laugh of his.
And that? That was the exact complete opposite of it.
There was nothing quiet and chill about this night. Only one thing was still on the order of business. His ear drums were being damaged beyond repair, not by the high pitched laugh but by the loud and bass boosted blaring noise music. He could already feel the headache coming in.
Yunho brought the lukewarm and flat beer to his lips. He finished the drink with a grimace before setting it on the edge of the bar, his eyes scanning the amalgamation of sweaty bodies grinding and pressing against each other.
"Why the long face?" Wooyoung asked as he slipped to his tall friend's side.
Yunho sighed and chose to answer the question with another one.
"Why did you bring me here again?" He asked, round eyes turning sharp as he peered at the younger man.
"Oh I don't know," Wooyoung started sarcastically. "Maybe to drag you out of your cave for once?" He replied in disbelief, he should be grateful he’s being such a good friend to him!
Yunho only rolled his eyes and grunted in annoyance at his response. Why did he care this much that he enjoyed staying in and being on his own? 
"Look at Mingi," Wooyoung said over the music. Yunho followed his gaze to glance at his other friend on the other side of the club. "He knows how to have a good time!" Wooyoung said with a smirk.
Yunho quirked his eyebrow as he observed Mingi chatting up not one but two girls. Whispering something in one girl's ear while he curled his arm around the waist of the other one. Making them both giggle and look up at him while he peered at them over his sunglasses. 
Mingi was Yunho’s friend. Maybe even his best friend but… he looked like a douche.
"What kind of guy wears sunglasses inside… at night?" Yunho spat.
"The kind that gets bitches," Wooyoung remarked, jabbing at Yunho. 
"Fuck off Woo," Yunho barked at him. 
Yeah so what? Yes it had been a hot minute since he found himself being… intimate with a girl but it wasn't his fault! It was only because of his… issue…
"Come on dude. You don't have to stay bitchless, you know?" Wooyoung nudged his tall friend. "Why don't you try your luck with one of the dozens of women here that came for the same thing as you?"
"I," Yunho emphasized. "Did not come for that." He cleared his throat. "And you know I never get very far Woo!" He barked again. Truthfully Wooyoung was getting on his nerves.
"Bro! There's no way you can't find just ONE girl here that would be willing to take on the drill?"
Yunho shushed him and looked around him frantically as if anyone could have heard him over the blaring music.
"I already told you not to call it that!!" Of course Wooyoung only laughed at his friend's concern.
"I'm sorry but it's only the truth. Like that massive thing can only be handled by a licensed professional." He laughed again.
"Fuck off!" Yunho repeated, unconsciously crossing his hands over his lower half. 
“No, but seriously. You just gotta find one that matches the vibe,” Wooyoung said, his eyes narrowing into a sly frown. His gaze wiped over the crowd while Yunho only sighed, turning his back to his friends to go get another beer. 
“Wait,” Wooyoung gripped on his shirt before Yunho had the time to flee his friend’s ridiculous plan. “What about this one?”
The tall man followed Wooyoung’s finger pointing at a girl sitting at the bar, seemingly alone and absentmindedly stirring the mint leaves in her mojito.
“Woo, can you please shut up for a second while I get myself another overpriced beer and try to forget about this conversation forever? Thank you!” Yunho said, exasperated and turning on his heels again.
“No, no, no! Dude,” Wooyoung called him out again, holding his friend by his side. The shorter man rolled his eyes at his tall friend’s stubbornness. “I really have a good feeling about her.” Wooyoung insisted.
“And why is that?” Yunho asked, obvious mockery underlining his tone.
“Look at her, man!” Wooyoung pointed, choosing to completely ignore his friend's sarcasm. “She’s slumping over the bar counter, she’s been stirring her mojito for the past ten minutes but hasn’t had a single sip of it. She keeps looking over at Mingi with a scornful pout and look! In a second she’s gonna check her watch again.” he paused for a second. “See!!” Wooyoung exclaimed and turned to his friend who looked rather unimpressed. “She’s like you, man! She does not want to be here and she’s at least as lonely as you.”
Yunho frowned at the younger man, that last bit was totally unnecessary. 
“Plus, she’s pretty! I know she’s your style.” Yunho frowned in an attempt to deny Wooyoung but it was true. Wooyoung felt like he was gaining the upper hand in the negotiations so he continued.
“You should go talk to her. Just talk!” Wooyoung added when he saw Yunho open his mouth to protest again. “I mean just talk, see if it goes anywhere and if it doesn't, then it doesn’t and I promise I’ll kick Mingi’s ass back into the car and drive us all home right that second!” He pledged.
Yunho looked over again at his tall friend and his two targets of the night. Even though Mingi was considerably taller and bulkier than Wooyoung he knew about the latter’s determination and sheer force of will that would turn any wolf into a sheepish puppy. So he didn’t doubt one second that he would be doing just that.
But first at had to “shoot his shot” with… you.
The girl moping at the bar, as if a rain cloud was perpetually following her around. And there was a good reason for it. You recently got dumped. Your friends took you out to this club to celebrate and hopefully get you over him. Truthfully, you had felt relieved because Jongho was just a jerk to you and you have been slipping out of love for a while but still! It hurt that you had to come to the realization that it was over for real this time around.
Granted you were in fact single but you were not so ready to mingle…yet. At some point in the evening they got tired of trying to cheer you up and just left you at the bar to enjoy the company of your little rain cloud by yourself.
“You don’t look like you’re having a great time either,” Yunho said, ordering another beer for himself. The deep voice pulled you out of your day dreaming as you looked up at him with round eyes. “Can I sit here?” he asked and you nodded silently. He didn’t let it show but he’s actually kind of relieved you didn’t turn him down on the spot.
“Yeah I'm not having the time of my life that’s for sure,” you sighed, clinking the melting ice cubes against the glass with your soggy paper straw.
“Why?” Yunho asked while casually wiping his sweaty palms over his distressed jeans.
You bit your lip. Trauma dumping about your not-so-prince-charming jerkface of an ex to a total stranger wasn’t probably the best idea in the world even if the alcohol in your system said otherwise, luckily you still had far too few drinks to start this conversation. So you opted for the easy going explanation.
“My friends ditched me for Mr. Tall-Douchebag over there.” 
Yunho followed your gesture to Mingi bending over to whisper something in a girl's ear as he slid his sunglasses back up the bridge of his nose while his other hand held onto the other girl’s bare waist, rubbing his thumb on her skin as she giggled, the cropped top she was wearing not concealing the patch of skin there.
Mingi was Yunho’s friend but he was also a dog. And that was just the plain truth despite the fact that their friendship went back to middle school.
“Yeah that guy looks like an asshole,” Yunho said in all sincerity.
“No shit,” you scoffed “What kind of giga chad wears sunglasses in a club… at night?” you rolled your eyes in disbelief and finally brought your straw to your lips to take a sip of the diluted mojito.
Yunho started to laugh. Maybe Wooyoung wasn't wrong after all. There was something about you that was right for Yunho, somehow your vibes matched. He even started to relax ever so slightly next to you.
“But did you say ‘either’?” you questioned. “Does that imply you too are not having a grand ol’ time?”
Yunho chuckled humorlessly.
“Well, no. Not really,” he confessed as he grabbed the beer the barman was handing out and shoved a couple of wrinkled bills in his hand in exchange.
You returned the mojito to the bar counter and turned to him, now that he was seeing you a little better you were indeed pretty, prettier than what the bar’s red and purple neons were leading on from a distance. But up close Yunho realized Wooyoung was right about that too, you were his type. 
He swallowed thickly, your undivided attention brought back a sense of nervousness into him and he sipped on his beer for a small dose of liquid courage. “I invited a couple of my friends over and we were supposed to stay in and play League but instead they ganged up on me and dragged me here,” he sighed. 
That was the truth! Yunho only carefully omitted all the parts where his friends made him sound like a lonely loser. So that wasn’t a lie! It was curated truth. He sipped on his beer once again to ease his nerves.
You gasped loudly and Yunho’s eyebrows arched in surprise at your reaction.
“Oh I wished I would have done that too,” you pouted, before taking another sip. “And how did they convince you to end up here then?” you asked once again, setting the glass down and looking up at the tall brunette seated next to you.
Uh oh.
That was bad. Yunho wasn’t actually the best at performing under pressure. And especially when said pressure was looking at him with beautiful shiny lips and such a wholesome and genuine smile.
“Well I-...uh,” Yunho started to stammer which seemed to entertain you as the genuine smile turned into an amused little grin. The tall man brushed his long bangs back in an attempt to regain his composure which worked to some extent. “I’ve been on my own for a while, too long if you listen to my friends and they said that maybe they could find me a nice girl to… keep me company,” he said before clearing his throat and attempting to push the lump in his throat back with two large gulps of cool beer.
Wow, that was lame. So much for not sounding like a total loser…
“And I'm the nice girl you settled for?” you asked, breaking eye contact. Yunho felt uneasy again, he couldn't make of your expression right there. Did he blow his chance by being too sincere with you? And why did he feel so bad that he just might have? Did he want to impress you that bad? When initially he only wanted to exchange a couple of sentences just to call it quits and get Wooyoung to drive him home but now was he actually trying?
“Too honest maybe?” Yunho said before pinching his lip between his teeth as you shrugged nonchalantly and took another sip. 
Yes, maybe a little too honest indeed you thought as you sipped on the drink that was basically only water at this point. You were just another girl that was to be used to feel a little less lonely…
“Ughh. I suck at this,” Yunho groaned in frustration.
“At what?” you asked, his tone peaking your curiosity right when you thought you had figured him out.
“At this!” Yunho said, gesturing at the air between the both of you. “At chatting up pretty girls! At flirting!” He sighed again, feeling defeated.
Key word: pretty. 
You grinned, you too felt lonely and you figured there was no harm in helping each other out. For tonight at least.
“It’s okay,” you said, suddenly wrapping your hand around his, tightly holding the beer pint. Which made him stiffen in the uncomfortable bar stool. “I don't really like the smooth talkers anyways.” You sent him a cheeky wink and Yunho felt like his stomach had somehow acquired a trampoline. 
“Really?” he said, lips going round in surprise, eyes snapping to where you were rubbing small circles on the back of his hand.
“Yeah,” you chuckled, satisfied with the effet this simple touch had on him. “I’m not really into fuck boys,” you said, gesturing to the tall man in sun glasses once more.
Yunho knew you were referencing Mingi again but he didn’t have it in him to peel his eyes off you to look at him. His eyes traveled from your hand, up the curve of your arm, to the low neckline of your beautiful black dress (where he stayed longer than he intended) and finally (with much effort) to your own eyes fixated in his. Yunho was mesmerized, like a shipwrecked sailor being bewitched by the chant of a siren, like a parched pariah catching sight of an oasis on the horizon after days of wandering in the desert. 
“So…” he started hesitantly, his heart beating against his ribs and resonating in his ears. “If I offered you a ride home to get out of this hell hole and get to know each other, would you maybe say yes?” 
It wasn’t a coincidence that Yunho spoke in the conditional tense. He didn’t want to jinx himself, he never was the superstitious kind but as he was experiencing this streak of luck with you he found himself to be. 
You chuckled again at his cuteness. 
“Yes,” you said, batting your eyelashes flirtatiously. “Yes, I would.”
***
It wasn't long before you found yourselves tangled up into each other on your couch, your last drinks getting warm on the coffee table, barely even touched.
To your surprise, Yunho’s hold was gentle and patient. You felt comfortable in his arms as his warm and large palm gently pressed against your nape. His soft lips finding yours and pulling you in this delicate kiss, almost like a good morning kiss. It isn't rushed at all, like he has the whole day (or in this case night) to get to know you and to give you a thousand more. If he really was as touch deprived as he claimed to be he wasn't letting it on at all.
That raised suspicion on your side and you broke the kiss. Immediately Yunho’s eyes fluttered open and he caught his bottom lip between his teeth, worry taking over his features again.
“So,” you start, slightly shifting in his hold. “Tell me why you said you weren’t good at flirting again?” you say as you plant a soft kiss in the crook of his neck, making his Adam's apple bobble in his throat. He could feel himself getting hard and you felt his fingers lightly twitch around your nape. “Because to me it seems like you are pretty good at it.” You licked a large swipe on his blazing skin and drew back to look at him. “I mean, less than an hour ago I was moping on my own in the club…” you slipped your hand up his shirt to undo the first button. “And now I'm all over you, kissing you and about to do much more,” you whispered softly. The promise of what’s to come had Yunho’s length jumping between his thighs. 
“I thought you’d be all over me, tearing my clothes off the second I got to lock the doors. But there you are taking your sweet time. It doesn't add up.” You popped off another button and slipped your hands over his collar bone.
Yunho was torn between the heat that pooled in his stomach with every single one of your touches and the actual dread he felt to move things forward. Because he knew all too well what usually happened at this point of the story. 
And although it was actually fear that kept him from tearing every single article of clothing clean off your body, you mistook it for some kind of elaborate plan to get you alone.
“I’m actually pretty nervous, that's why I haven’t done… a lot more,” he said, hesitantly.
“About what, baby?” you cooed, latching your lips on his skin again, earning a cute little whimper, your fingers working their way down to the last couple of buttons still holding his shirt together.
The pet name made Yunho’s heart sing, thousands of butterflies launching in his stomach, sending waves of tingles towards his groin. 
“Because this is usually where it stops.” He let out a shaky breath as you pushed the cotton off one of his shoulders and let your fingertips drag across his soft skin, going down to his collarbone to his pecs to his abs. “Because the girls usually leave at this point.”
“Why?” you said, lips still pressed to his skin, hands reaching the button of his jeans.
“Because I’m…” Yunho hissed as your other hand came in to play with his nipple while you still went down, your hand brushing over the jeans. “Because I’m too big.”
There. He said it.
This coincided with the moment your hand laid over the colossal bulge in Yunho’s pants. You couldn't help but to stop everything, you stayed there frozen upon your discovery.
Yunho could only close his eyes shut as he felt you immobile all of a sudden. 
Well, it was fun while it lasted at least.
“I can go if you want me to,” he said as neutral as possible, but he couldn't help but let disappointment tint his voice. He can’t explain why but it felt different this time, he really wanted it to work with you. He wanted you.
“No!” you said as you held onto him when he shifted to get out of your hold and onto his feet. “Wait,” your fingers gliding over the bulge, moving once more. Instantly he sat down again against you. You cupped him, gauging the size and evaluating the challenge at hand, said challenge generously spilling out of your grasp as it could not be contained within your palm.
“We could at least try, right?”
“Really?” he exclaimed, before letting out a choked gasp as your grip grew a little tighter.
“Yeah,” you sighed, still gently rubbing over his hard on. “I’m determined and stubborn and my parents didn't raise no quitter,” you said, trying to throw some humor onto this to deescalate the situation and it did the trick.
“The only thing is… I don't think I have a condom that would fit you,” you say, suddenly bashful.
“Oh… hm. I brought mine” Yunho started to pat his pockets hastily. “It’s in my wallet, in my vest, in the… car,” he said, voice growing quieter as he realized he will have to go get it.
You then hopped on your feet. Yunho's hips instinctively bucking up, chasing the friction.
“How about you go get it and come back to meet me in the bedroom?”
Yunho only nodded vigorously before you turned on your feet and walked to one of the closed doors of the hall, he couldn't stop his eyes from falling down to look at your ass roll in the black dress as you walked away. You turned back before disappearing behind the door.
“Don't take too long, ok?” you teased him with a smile.
Yunho didn’t need more to snap him out of his trance and run, no, fly to his car. He barged in the hallway of the apartment complex, not even trying for the elevator, he knew with his long legs he'd be faster if he took the stairs. So he flew over the two flights of stairs and ran to his car to practically rip the wallet from the inner pocket of his coat and stuffed the condom in his back pocket before swallowing the two flights of stairs again and coming back into the apartment, short of breath. 
As afraid as he was a couple of minutes ago to go faster with you, now every second where he didn't have you to himself felt like an eternity.
The apartment was completely dark except for a ray of light that was coming from under the door you disappeared behind. Yunho velvet traded across the living room to the hall and to the door, guided by the line of light, the golden thread he ought to follow to reach heaven.
He delicately pushed in. And he felt like he had opened Pandora's box. He found you completely nude, waiting cross legged on the edge of your bed for him. The dim light from the nightstand sweeping across your form and casting the otherworldly shadow of your divine outline onto the wall. You were absolutely sublime. A sight that went straight to his groin, pumping brand new and boiling blood to his half hard member. 
You sat up straight putting both your feet flat on the ground as Yunho approached you. You held your palm flat to him without a word and he handed over the magnum condom in a black and gold packaging. You settled it on the nightstand before bringing your attention back to the elephant (quite fitting term) in the room. 
Now that he was standing close to you and you were really at eye level with the thing you were really getting a feel for it. Yunho was indeed really big, the thick outline of his length progressed way down his pant's leg making it impossible to miss. 
You gently undid the button of his jeans and pulled on his zipper, the vibrations on his length making him frown, completely entranced by your hand moving on him.
You hooked your fingers onto the waistband of the pants and his underwear and very gently pulled the fabric down, Yunho’s open shirt still floating as his sides. Gradually you had a peep at the trimmed hair of his pubic bone and then you uncovered the base of his cock. He was incredibly girthy and it only got bigger as you continued to pull on his pants. It was only when you were mid thigh that the member sprung free infront of your face and you audibly gasped at the size. 
The girthy member sat heavily between Yunho’s thighs, the tip an angry shade of red and profusely leaking at the slit. Even if he wanted to, he couldn't have masked how eager he was for you. His cock has been leaking ever since you got in his car and he got to smell your flowery perfume without the parasitizing smell of smoke and alcohol from the club. But that he couldn’t possibly say out loud.
He held his breath when you wrapped both your hands around his base, his cock twitching at the minimal contact of your fingers interlaced around him. You were still measuring him, getting an idea. He was as long as your forearm and as thick as your fist. 
In other words, he was ridiculously big. If he had said one hour ago when you were back at the club that he was walking around with a literal third leg you would have laughed in his face and left him there. But now that you were seeing it with your very eyes, it was different.
Yunho grew nervous as you stayed there eyeing him down with this puzzled expression.
“So what do you say?” He asked, his toes wiggling on the carpeted floor nervously. 
You didn’t even say anything back, only aimed the tip at your lips and started to lick around the sensitive cock head. Yunho emitted the most beautiful sound you had ever heard, a deep sigh of relief and pleasure as he let his head roll back, his large palm instantly finding your hair to intertwine his fingers with it.
You licked around the tip thoroughly, earning more airy sighs from the brunette before you pursed your lips and sent a big wad of spit on his length. Making him moan a little clearer as you dragged your warm spit down to his base with both hands. You spat again to make sure to lubricate him thoroughly, before taking him in your mouth.
As soon as your lips wrapped around the tip, you heard Yunho softly curse from above you. Your lips stretched around the girthy tip with difficulty and slid down as far as you could manage until he hit the back of your throat, and you weren’t even halfway through. 
But Yunho didn't mind, it was the first time somebody even got that far and he swore he could have cum just by the look you gave him when your eyes snapped back to him and he saw your pretty face stuffed full of his fat cock, hair slightly disheveled by his doing, eyes glazed over with unspilled tears and your beautiful lips stretched to an unbelievable extent. 
You felt him twitch on your tongue before you popped him out, taking a deep breath and going down again. His free hand dipped down to play with your breasts, he cupped them and flicked your hardened nipples a couple of times making you moan on his cock. 
“Fuck baby,” he breathed. “Your mouth feels so good,” he panted. The praise made you confident enough to push your head a little further down, his cock reaching down to a brand new depth inside your throat.
“Fuckkkk,” Yunho sighed his hand on your hair holding you there for a second, just long enough for him to feel your gag reflex triggering and your throat clamping down on his cock trying to reject the massive foreign object that was obstructing your air pipe. When he pulled out again long strings of thick saliva linked your red and swollen lips to the raging tip of his cock and you coughed a couple of times, choking, the air burning your sore throat.
“Need you on my tongue right now. Wanna taste you,” he whispered as he practically tore the shirt off his shoulders and slipped out of his pants. He carefully pushed you towards the bed so you would be laid on your back and very gently his big hands wrapped around your thighs to pull them apart to finally lay eyes on your center. 
Yunho licked his lips in anticipation, his mouth watering at the sight of your glistening folds covered with your slick, the transparent liquid cascading from your entrance and running down your thighs, some even staining your bedding. He swiped a single finger on your slit, gathering some of your arousal.
“Fuck, baby you got this wet just by having my cock in your mouth,” Yunho smirked when he noticed you twitched at his words. So you liked a little dirty talk, that was good to know. He brought the digit covered with your essence to his mouth, moaning against his own fingers as your sweet and velvety nectar enveloped his tongue.
“Fuck, you taste so good.”
Yunho pulled on your hips so your ass would sit at the edge and he kneeled on the ground. He planted a couple soft kisses on your inner thighs and pubic bone, making you squirm, itching to be touched in the right places. Maybe next time he’ll make you beg for it but today he needed you as much as you needed him.
He gently wrapped his mouth around your clit, taking the swollen bud into his mouth and sucking on it gently. Your reaction was immediate, it has been quite a long time since you have felt the touch of somebody else and Yunho was good at what he was doing. 
He went down to dip his tongue inside of you, parting your folds with his tongue and tasting the deepest parts of you, you arched your back and let his name fall off your lips.
“Aaah, hmph… Yun-ho,” you struggled to say as you unconsciously started to roll your hips against his face, smearing your juices over his cheeks and chin.
The way you called out his name and fucked yourself back on his face, shamelessly using his mouth to chase after your high had him leaking on the floor, as his aching cock sat heavily between his thighs.
That’s when he chose to stick two long fingers inside your tight heat, making you moan louder and stop dead in your tracks. You don't know how he managed that but he somehow found the perfect angle right away, curling the two digits right into your sweet spot, so you stayed put, exactly where you were while he pumped his fingers in and out of you.
He alternated between fast strokes then slower ones when he rolled his fingertips inside you teasing your g spot, to then go back to the quicker pace. Taking you on this rollercoaster of pleasure where he made you go up and down but never to your peak. 
Yunho had no intent on making you cum, at least not right now, now he only wanted to prep you to take him inside you. He was stretching you out as much as possible to make sure he could fit his huge cock inside your tiny little pussy. 
You had figured out that much but that didn’t keep you from slowly growing frustrated and therefore hungry for more. Much more.
So he slipped a fourth finger in.
At this point your body was covered with a light sheen of sweat making you beautifully glisten as the dim night stand lamp shone on you. 
You gasped at how full you felt, arching your back, your hands fisting the sheets as you called his name again.
“You’re doing so good.” He pressed a soft kiss on your sensitive bundle of nerves. “My good girl,” he cooed before he started to swirl his tongue around your clit, making your cunt clamp harder around his fingers.
You felt yourself throb at the possessive pronouns. You both knew you weren’t his. But for the both of you it was what felt good. You’ll have plenty of time to feel lonely again in the morning. Just for tonight you belonged to each other. 
Your hands flew between your thighs where your fingers untangled with the long strands of brown hair, tugging at it, your frustration getting the best of you. 
Yunho enjoyed the dull burn on his scalp as he kept on abusing your swollen bud, sucking, licking and flicking it. Until he felt you throb on his tongue. But before he could finish you he felt you pull on his hair hard enough for him to look up at you.
You were panting, your chest heaving up and down, disheveled from thrashing your head around and pushing it back into the mattress.
“Wanna cum on your cock,” you urged, panting, as plainly as that. After all of this teasing, you wanted to save your appetite for the main course. 
Yunho could have bursted and cum all over the carpet with just those words. But instead he got back up and grabbed the rubber from your night stand, tearing the wrapper away and rolling the condom down his huge cock.
When he came back between your thighs he laid his cock on your stomach, and that's when you fully understood what you got yourself into. The sheer weight of the thing was in itself impressive but that was nothing compared to the size of it. It reached all the way to your midriff, the massive thing laying menacingly on your bare, sweaty skin.
Yunho then took the thick base in his hand and rubbed his tip at your entrance, coating it with your slick.
“You ready?” he asked, cheeks taking a pink hue, flashing you the most adorable of coy smile as if he wasn’t tongue fucking you a second ago. You only nodded, bracing yourself. Scared but foremost eager to be filled up again.
“Try to breathe, okay?” he advised right before he started to push himself inside you. Instinctively you let out a whine at the way your walls stretched around him as he gradually, very gently pushed his huge cock inside. You caught your lip between your teeth as your brows met on your forehead. Yunho was very attentive and didn't blink once to make sure he could read your micro expressions, so he could adapt the pace. He knew when to let you take a breather and when to keep pushing in. So when you let out a small cry and your hips jerked upwards slightly, he stopped.
“Am I hurting you?” he asked, soft voice laced with concern. 
“Well the obvious answer is yes.” You chuckled softly at his adorable worried expression. “But at the same time… It feels so good,” you said, half whispering, half moaning. And you felt his cock twitch inside you.
That was the very first time somebody has ever said that to him. He would lie if he said he didn't like that.
“Please keep going,” you said, whiny tone bordering on begging. 
“Fuck baby,” Yunho breathed out. “Say that again.” His voice was somewhat urgent.
“Please Yunho, fill me up, I wanna feel you all inside of me.”
Yunho cursed under his breath again. He didn't need more to push the last couple of centimeters inside you. And just like that you’re full of him. He flipped both of your legs on his sturdy shoulders and leaned forward to kiss you. The softness is masked by the state of extreme urgency in which you both find yourselves in, the kiss is messy, sloppy, heated. Your teeth grazing against each other before you stuck your tongue out to let Yunho suck on it, you taste yourself on his tongue making you light headed before you bit on Yunho’s bottom lip to let it snap back against his teeth.
“Please fuck me,” you whispered against his teeth.
“Anything for you, baby.” 
He started to pull out gently and pushed in again, with each thrust he went faster, his large frame still laid over you as he fucked you in the mating press. The position was just perfect, with both his feet firmly on the ground, Yunho had great control over his movements and could easily adjust the pace as a plus the angle was absolutely divine.
You whined and whimpered and cried with each stroke, his big cock perfectly brushing and poking at your soft spot, deep, deep inside you. A spot nobody had ever been able to reach, not even yourself. The new found source of pleasure made you cry out in bliss, your cunt taking a vice grip around Yunho’s huge cock.
“Fuck,” you yelped. “You’re so…aaah… big,” you moaned. “Feel so good inside me. Please keep going. Fuck me please,” your words were slurred, you barely made any sense but it didn’t matter. Yunho knew exactly what you meant.
“You’re so good, baby. So good to me.”
He moaned against your mouth, prying your jaw open with his thumb and letting his tongue slip into your mouth, his warm spit running down your tongue. You swallowed his saliva, along with each of his pants and grunts. The way you felt around him was surreal, your wet sopping cunt coating him with your slick making it so easy to slip in and out of you, so much so that at some point he found himself absolutely drilling into your cunt completely losing himself inside you. The lewd wet noises bouncing off the small dark room as he rearranged your guts.
“I won't last for long,” he whined, eyes closing shut as he tried his best not to burst.
“I’m almost there,” you said, your legs tensing up and wrapping around Yunho’s hips.
He stood back up straight and put one hand on your waist firmly gripping your side to pull you back on his cock every time he thrusted in. Admiring the outline of his cock poking inside of your stomach creating a visible bulge with every snap of his hips. He laid his large hand over your stomach, lightly pressing, making you yelp and feeling every come and go as his thumb found your swollen and throbbing clit.
The sudden pleasure made you cry out a sob. Yunho started to play with your clit as he was deep inside your guts. Drawing tight circles on it, teasing it so perfectly that you grew even tighter around him.
“Please be my good girl and cum for me,” he said in a strangled moan, knowing he could only last for a few more seconds. Snapping his hips into yours, making your tits jump with each powerful thrust. “God please, please cum,” he begged in a desperate little whimper, as he wanted nothing than to make you cum but he also knew he could only keep up for a few more agonizingly long (at least to him) seconds.
That's when you crossed the edge, your walls fluttered around his big cock as you reached your peak, white heat radiating from your core to each of your limbs, making your body shake uncontrollably and your cunt grip into Yunho’s length like its life depended on it. You were completely delirious with pleasure, the earth shattering orgasm washing over you and convincing you the monstrous cock plowing into you had definitively ruined you for anyone else. You didn’t see how you could ever be satisfied again with any other cock.
The twitch of your cunt is Yunho’s queue to finally let go as well. He pulled out of you and ripped the condom away. He only had to give it a couple of strokes before cumming all over you. Thick white ropes of burning hot cum spurting out of his slit and crashing on your heated skin. Yunho had never cum so hard, his cock is like an open tap. Squirting cum all over your stomach, your tits and some powerful spurts even reaching your pretty face, which you hurriedly lick off your lips and chin. Making Yunho’s huge cock twitch in his balled fist.
He nearly collapsed when he’s done, his legs suddenly turning into jelly. But he still managed to haphazardly wander into the bathroom to give you a clean washcloth he found and even goes back to the kitchen to get you a glass of water.
After that he blacked out next to you, completely drained (in more ways than one). You chuckled next to him when you heard him snort softly as you set your still half full drink on the nightstand and switch off the light. Naturally finding your place snuggled up against him.
***
The incessant vibrations of his phone abandoned in the pocket of his jeans was what woke up Yunho the next morning. He got off the bed half asleep and picked the device to answer the call. Because he was still in a daze he didn’t check the caller but he definitely should have when he heard Wooyoung yell at the end of the line.
“SO DID YOU GO BACK TO HER PLACE??? DID SHE SURVIVE THE DRILL?????” he shot out question after question, not taking the time to breathe between each one. Yunho shushed him right away, looking back over his shoulder at your sleeping figure.
“Shut up! she’s sleeping!” Yunho said as he struggled to turn down the volume on his phone.
“AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH!” the speaker resonated even louder. “Come by to my place we’re going to brunch, you’ll tell me all about it and then I promise I’ll play all the League you want for the rest of eternity!” Wooyoung pledged as Yunho chuckled. That's exactly why he loved him.
“Brunch and then League?” Yunho heard your groggy voice from behind. “That sounds fun…” 
“I’ll call you back,” Yunho briefly said before hanging on a screaming Wooyoung. He beamed at you. 
“Wanna come with?”
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IF U WANNA HELP ME PLEASE REBLOG WITHOUT USING THE COMMUNITY LABELS 🖤
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a/n: oooffff omg that was something. i had so much fun writing this and omg i loved yunho in this he was so cute but hot ughhhhh. tell me if you liked it. that would make me so happy and i will def kiss u if do <3333
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sohnric · 5 months
Text
plot twist – k. sunwoo
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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
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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.
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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.
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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.
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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.
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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.
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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.
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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.
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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.
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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.
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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.
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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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catsgut · 6 months
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Anon : Uhmm is there any chance of doing a surprise Sukuna fic in your kinktober list? Make my baby shine with your top-tier dark fic writing pleaseee 👉🥺👈
OMG i’ve been wanting to write sukuna for a while now i don’t think im quite ready to do a full fic, but i hope this suffices hehehe
warnings : noncon, reader doesnt know about sukuna, blood, virginity loss, not proof read
yuuji simply failed to see what was so awful about him dating a nonsorcerer. his friends had called him dumb for even the thought, yet yuuji actually wasn't the most astute. all he knew was that you were super hot and that he really liked you. to such an extent that consistently now he has set aside time for you, whether it be taking you out on a date or getting you a gift with the cash he saves up. you really felt appreciated when you were around yuuji.
and you were just oh so sweet. even gojo had a go at hitting on you a couple times, however you just accepted it as him being kind, flashing him a comforting grin as you clasped yuuji's hand with yours. "lets get going, sweetie. the movie will be starting soon," you said, your voice dissolving off your tongue like sugar, and yuuji wanted a taste.
the two of you finished your movie, neither of you liking it very much. "the part where she screamed sounded so fake," you giggled before leaning forward to take a sip through the straw of the soda he was holding. he thought his heart was going to explode seeing you so comfortable with him. the way in which your cute mouth folded over his straw made his dick twitch.
“hey uh… would you like to come back to my place for a bit? we would be alone and i just… want to spend more time with you,” you said bashfully looking into his eyes, and the virgin had never nodded his head so fast in his entire life. his reaction made you laugh as you took his arm to lead him the way. the walk to your house was filled with comfortable silence, the both of you being much too shy to say anything.
but what the two of you didn’t know was that sukuna was watching the entire time. from the moment yuji had met you, you caught the interest of the spirit. funnily enough, you were sukuna’s type as well, just for different reasons; sweet, pure, and most importantly, a virgin. it made him smile with delight seeing the poor, unsuspecting girl lead her boyfriend to the comfort of her home unknowing to the fact he was housing something far more demonic than she could ever imagine.
“i know it’s not much, but i hope you don’t mind,” you clap your hands together and grin shyly gesturing to the small apartment. no, yuji didn’t mind at all, only caring about what was going to happen next. would you guys cuddle? kiss? grind on each other with clothes on? the poor, horny boy had a million thoughts running through his mind, it didn’t register right away that he felt your small hands against his pecks. looking down at you, you were focused on feeling his muscles through the tight black shirt he was wearing. You peered up at him with an innocent look that made him feel like he was on cloud 9.
“wanted to for s’long,” you mumbled, dragging you soft finger tips down and down and down…. yuji felt like he was going to explode in his pants right in the entrance way of your home. it took everything in him to control himself, but little did he know sukuna was planning something that allowed little room for self-control.
yuji leaned down to gently meet your lips with his, tongue swirling inside your mouth in an inexperienced manner. he moaned at the taste and reached down under your thighs to pick you up. he wanted to make you think he knew what he was doing. you wrapped around legs around his waist as he carried you over to your couch. you could feel the hardness of his dick press against your core. “you���re so needy,” he smiled sheepishly. you just laid there watching the boy above you run his hands all over your body. yuji was trying to make himself seem confident, but on the inside he was screaming out of nervousness. 
“let me have a go,” he heard a taunting voice echo out in his head. he ignored the voice, instead latching his wet mouth on your neck. you whimpered, feeling his lips and teeth smear drool all over your skin. it didn’t feel the best, but you were happy with it being yuuji doing this to you. 
yuuji didn’t mean to take it so far, roughly grinding down on you. it just… it had been so long since he came and you felt so good. he didn’t mean to slip up this badly, but before he knew it, his body soon wasn’t his own. he watched his body move, unable to control his movements. ‘fuck,’ he thought, eyes widening as he watched his own hand reach down and grab your neck. 
you were too busy feeling him touching you to realize what was happening until you were unable to breath. eyes snapping open you looked up to see your boyfriend smirking from above you. 
“my my, you’re being so obedient,” sukuna spoke, words purring off his tongue. you gulped trying to wiggle out of his strong grasp but you were unable to do so. “it’s been so long since i’ve had a virgin,” he growled, leaning down to run his hot tongue up the side of your face. 
this didn’t feel like yuuji anymore, instead he was acting completely different. almost scary. you stared up at him as he ripped your shirt open with ease. has he always been that strong? one of his hands reached down to grip your writs together while the other groped and squeezed at your body. “y-yuuji this hurts,” your lip curled and you stared up at him hoping he would see you're uncomfortable. 
the sight below him made sukuna groan in excitement. you looked so pure…. so innocent as you looked up at him with your teary eyes. “there’s no use in fighting this, little girl.” a sinister grin etched across his handsome face, dread filling your body. was this actually happening? “please,” you voice sounded weak and frail only making his dick harder. large hands finished ripping the clothes off your body leaving you cold and bare. 
before you knew it, he was unbuckling the belt of his jeans. yuuji screamed and begged as he watching the cursed spirit strip his girlfriend of her clothes, but it did nothing to stop what was happening. sukuna only laughed, loving the sound the pain he was causing. it had been too long since he was able to ravage a woman properly, tired of watching the brat he was trapped inside of watch porn before bed everynight. intercourse was something that was to be bloody and rough, not loving and intimate. just the idea made him bored. 
you were flipped on your hands and knees. his hand pressed down on your upper back and you realized it would be useless to try and fight it. with a shaky breath, you braced yourself as he slammed his cock into your untouched hole. sukuna's eyes nearly bulged out of his head at the feeling, teeth harshly digging into his lip. he stood up off the couch with one leg and kept the other propped on the couch. without hesitation he began pounding into you. "cmon make some noise, bitch!" he laughed loudly slapping your ass knowing you were unable to make even the slightest of noise with the air being fucked from your lungs. you've never been in more pain in your life till now and you were sure the wetness dripping from your thighs wasn't just your body's arousal. 
"dirty girl bleeding all over your boyfriend's cock," his words both confirmed your fears and confused you. what happened to your sweet boyfriend? the one who couldn't even bring himself to step on an insect. What flipped inside him to cause him to act this way towards you?. 
you were slowly unable to think of anything but the excruciating pain in your lower stomach. you could tell yuuji, or whoever he was, was close by the way his breathing was picking up. by the time he did finally finish, you felt your hole gush and swell with the amount of cum he fucked inside you. slowly, he pulled out whistling at the sight. your hips were brusied black and purple from his grip on them and your pussy was smeared with cum and blood. sukuna felt satisfied with himself, knowing yuuji wouldn't be able to fix any emotional and physical damage that had been done. it was almost a little sneak peek into what he was capable of. 
eventually, after enough time had passed, yuuji had gained control of his body again, but little could be said about you. slowly you crawled your way to the other side of the room, shaking with fear, yuujis heart broke hearing you beg for him to leave, demand he go, but after a few minutes of watching you cry he decided it was best he did. you cried yourself to sleep that night, feeling nothing but betrayal while yuuji cried feeling nothing but guilt for what he let happen. 
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spookitapes · 9 months
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Hello, i love your fics! Im a bit embarassed but i had an idea earlier today. Imagine beig on a relationship with Ted while hes a trip visiting every margaritaville or rain forest, whatever you prefer and you miss him a lot so when you can finally go visit him on the trip he shows you how much he missed you by fucking you so good you barely walk the next day. Okay thats all, thank you bye!
a/n: oh my gosh don't be embarrassed! pls send me more stuff I love it !!! and thank you so much for the support< 33 it's mainly RFC buuuut i did a little bonus of margaitaville ft. schlatt at the end :))) sorry it took me a minute to see this in my inbox!! but I hope you enjoy it bc this was actually super fun to write !!
!! 18+ ONLY MINORS DNI !!
surprising ted on his rainforest cafe roadtrip hc's
❧ getting the trip schedule from eddy so you can pick which days works best for you
❧ planning it weeks before they even leave
❧ ted having literally no clue what’s happening
❧ stuffing his face with safari fries when he hears an all too familiar “teddy!” coming from behind him
❧ thinking he’s finally going crazy bc why is he imagining your voice amongst the animatronic themed restaurant's ambiance ??
❧ almost tackling him out of his chair when you finally reach him bc you didn’t realize you were full-on sprinting in the rainforest cafe
❧ a very sweet reunion that takes ted entirely by surprise
❧ (don't worry eddy gets a good angle) it's some nice behind-the-scenes footage for you two :))
❧ “jesus christ honey i didn’t know you’re that strong!”
❧ ted laying his head on your shoulder anytime he can
❧ sharing a sparkling volcano for the memory of it
❧ getting back to the hotel and making out in the elevator on the way to the room you booked
❧ him immediately pinning you to the door when it closes
❧ he's missed you so much
❧ missed your body so much
❧ he'd been having to take cold showers
❧ and that worked until he found the nude polaroids you had left him in his luggage
❧ he's been reduced to jerking off, switching to hot steam instead of a standing ice bath
❧ so you can't really blame him for taking you right there
❧ stripping you of only what's necessary
❧ if your wearing jeans? gone. pants of any kind? bye bye. shorts? across the room...but a dress or a skirt? he's just pushing it up your hips
❧ pulling your panties to the side (if you're wearing any op-)
❧ hiking one of your legs up onto his hip as he barely gets his cock out of his pants before pushing into you
❧ both of you letting out a gasp as he bottoms out
❧ him holding your hand against the door with one hand and rubbing your clit with the other
❧ eventually bringing your leg around his hip up over his shoulder so he can hit deeper
❧ him fucking you so rough the do not disturb sign's swinging on the other side of the door
❧ once you both cum he'll carry you over to the bed so he can finish stripping you
❧ slowly peeling the clothes away as he kisses your skin that appears
❧ him pushing your face into the sheets to muffle the porn star level moans leaving your mouth
❧ "god baby, you're gonna get us kicked out if you keep screaming like that."
❧ but how can you stay quiet when he's balls deep drilling you from the back giving you the best dick of your life ??
❧ him getting fed up so he puts one of his big ass hands over your mouth as he fucks you harder
❧ just the sounds of skin on skin slapping, ted's groans, and your muffled sobs fill the room
❧ going at least three more rounds before he's carrying you to the bathtub to clean you up
❧ begging him to get in with you and getting him to after pulling out the big eyes and jutted out bottom lip combo
❧ scooting up so he can slide in behind you
❧ just holding each other in the warm bubbley water
❧ "i love you so much baby, remind me to never go on a trip without you again."
❧ it's followed with a tender kiss on your forehead
❧ you pause a moment before shifting your head so you can catch his eyes, a smile overtaking your features
❧ he thinks you're gonna say something sappy, something that'll probably make you tear up
❧ "you can go on as many trips as you want if that's how you're gonna fuck me."
❧ he splashes you with the bath water...
❧ the next day he's calling you to hurry up and get ready, something about needing to be back on the road
❧ he gets met with a long, loud, angry groan in return
❧ "uuhhhh honey, you alright?"
❧ him being met with your pouty face looking up from the mound of pillow you had it buried in
"i don't wanna talk to you. you did this to me!"
❧ he's about to question you before you throw your legs off the side and go to stand...only to go tumbling over before ted leaps across the room to save you
❧"your hero," he's smirking down at you, hands around your back and hip as you dangle mid-air
❧ "...more like my murderer." you murmur it out
❧ "oh and who exactly did i kill? you look alive to me."
❧ "MY WHOLE LOWER BODY YOU BIGDICK ASSHOLE!"
(bonus)
you two definitely fuck at jschlatt's during margaritaville
❧ setting it up with schlatt bc you promise him a gift (WINK)
❧ you jump out and surprise them when they get to schlat't's place
❧ him almost tackling you this time
❧ "i fuckin' told ya! HA mother fucker now you owe me $50!" schlatt's laughing maniacally as usual
❧ ted fucking you in front of schlatt as a thank you for the surprise
❧ "this is way fuckin' better than on facetime." (read my other work to get the refrenceeeee)
❧ making you ride him as schlatt records it on ted's phone
❧ reverse cowgirl to get good angles of your pretty face and so ted can watch your greedy hole swallow up his big cock
❧ schlatt shoving the camera in your face when you start getting sloppy, thighs burning from riding your lover for so long
❧ "go on and look at me, angel," he's using his free hand to grip your throat to look at him but your eyes are still closed
❧ ted's interrupting him for a second, "do ya wanna cum? keep on bouncin' then. I'll rub your slutty lil clit if you keep takin' my dick so good."
❧ "be a good little bitch and smile for the camera—thaaaaat's it, honey."
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starsinthesky5 · 14 days
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birthday kisses || joe burrow x reader
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description: it’s your birthday and joe wants to make it the best birthday you’ve had and he has quite a few surprises up his sleeve. one, a little more special than the rest..
a/n: i rewrote this a few times because I couldn’t get a set idea of what it was going to be centered around and didn’t like how it looked. but i like this version now, so i hope this was good! also, i think im physically incapable of writing short fics because they turn out to be soo long😍
warnings: language, allusions to sex
word count: 7.5 k
-------------------------------------------------------
A wave of cool air causes you to abruptly wake up early in the morning. You quickly pull the covers a little higher and let out a soft yawn while stretching out your arms. You looked over to Joe's side of the bed to see if he was awake, but it was empty. “He probably went downstairs,” you thought while getting out of bed and going into the bathroom to freshen up. 
When you walk into the bathroom, you see a bunch of red sticky notes covering your vanity mirror in the shape of a heart.
“What the hell,” you mumble, slightly dazed and half asleep. 
As you walk closer to the mirror you see a stray sticky note on the corner and it reads “Reasons Why I Love You,” in Joe’s handwriting. 
You feel a smile creeping up on your face as you begin to read the other stickies that formed the heart. “Your perfect smile, your gorgeous eyes, you’re so good to me, you’re soo sexy, your adorable laugh, your kind heart, your thoughtfulness, you’re my best friend, you’re my biggest supporter, your ability to understand me when nobody else does, you feel like home,”.
Your heart swells up as you continue reading. Little gestures like this always made your day. You don’t know how Joe would come up with these things but you never complained. He would randomly give you flowers from time to time, leave little notes for you to find, and always find a way to show his appreciation for you. 
You were too busy with the sticky notes to notice that Joe had walked into the bathroom. He stood at the entrance for a moment, admiring his beautiful girlfriend who was attending to his first birthday surprise for her. 
He walks up behind you, snakes his arms around your waist, and kisses your neck before saying, “Happy Birthday, Y/N,” with a smile. His muscular arms that were wrapped around you made you feel so warm and cozy, which was something you’d often feel when you were with Joe.  
You stay silent for a second, soaking up this wonderful moment to start your birthday. You turn around in his arms, plant a big kiss on his lips, and giggle, “Thank You, Romeo. You sure know how to make a girl feel amazing on her birthday,” 
“Oh, there’s plenty more where that came from, Juliet,” he mumbles as he closes in for another kiss. This time, a little sloppy and hungry. You both are caught up in a heated make-out for a few minutes before you eventually pull away, leaving him a little touch-deprived and breathless. 
“So, where were you?” You question while rubbing his shoulders, his eyes never leaving your lips. 
“I was setting up your next birthday surprise,” he says as he kisses up your jaw.
You let out a soft laugh and say, “Someone’s a little extra lovey-dovey today,”.
“Well when it’s the most beautiful girl in the universe’s birthday, I’ll wear my heart on both my sleeves and my face,”.
You lean your head back and stare into his deep blue eyes for a second before saying, “I love you,” while wrapping your arms around his neck. He always makes you feel like the only girl in the world, so special and loved. 
“I love you too,” he laughs while swaying you side to side, a huge grin on his face. 
“Now, onto more important matters. Close your eyes and follow me,” Joe says while letting go of you. He stretches out his hand, gesturing for you to take it and come with him.
You close your eyes and put your hand in his as he leads you out of the bedroom. Joe helps you down the stairs and into the kitchen + living room area and releases your hand. 
“Okay, open,” he says.
You grin and open your eyes and your mouth falls open as you take in what’s in front of you. 
You’re met with a wide array of flowers; including your favorites such as carnations, tulips, and roses. As you look over to the right you notice a few gift bags along with red balloons. To the left is a beautiful breakfast arrangement of all your favorite breakfast foods and fruits, seemingly prepared by Joe.
“Joe, oh my god this is so sweet,” you squeal as you walk closer to admire the flowers.
“26 flower bouquets for 26 years,” he says while carefully watching your reaction. 
“These flowers are gorgeous. All my favs. Thank youuuuu,” you say in amazement while scanning the room. “I think I’ll have to put at least 2 flower bouquets in every room,” you say while thinking about what you could do with all these blossoms. 
“I’m glad you like them,” Joe says as he guides you to the breakfast table. 
You look at the table and see a spread of chocolate chip pancakes, crispy bacon, fresh-cut fruits, hash browns, and more. “Did you do all of this?” you question in amazement. Joe had never been one to cook or bake. He knew how to cook a few things but would usually steer clear of the kitchen to avoid causing a fire, so this was incredibly surprising. 
“Yup,” he says with a smirk. “I woke up pretty early and called my Mom to help me figure some stuff out,” he says as he pulls out a chair for you to sit in. “She says Happy Birthday by the way. She wanted to call you but I asked her to wait till tomorrow since we’ll be busy all day,” he says while pulling his chair out to sit in. 
You nod and say, “This is amazing Joe, seriously you didn’t have to do all this,” as he fills your plate with food. 
“Yes, I did. It’s my favorite person’s birthday so you better believe I will go all out,” he laughs, causing you to break out in a huge grin. 
The breakfast Joe had made was so good and you couldn’t stop telling him how delicious everything was as you were stuffing your face. You even managed to convince him to make the pancakes for breakfast more often because they taste waaay better than yours. 
“What’s in those bags,” you point out and ask Joe while he is cleaning up the table. 
“Let’s find out,” he smirks. You both move over to the couch and he brings over 3 bags and places the first one in your lap. Each bag is a certain size: small, medium, and large. 
“Start with the small one,” he says while settling down on the couch next to you.
You smile at him and start to open the first bag. You see a small jewelry box and chuckle. “You are the reason why my jewelry chest is on the verge of exploding,” 
“Hey, gotta keep my girl iced out,” he laughs as he shrugs his shoulders. 
You playfully roll your eyes, open the box, and see a gorgeous little necklace. “The love necklace,” you say as your eyes go wide. 
“I saw you eyeing it last time we went to Cartier,” he says as he gets up. “Here, let me put it on you,”.
You let Joe put the necklace around your neck before turning around to face him and saying, “I love it,”. You were admiring the interlocking rings; a symbol of the love you two have for each other. That’s the reason why it caught your eye in the store in the first place and that’s when Joe knew that he had to get it for you. 
“One ring represents you, and the other me. We’re forever intertwined,” he says while pulling you in for a hug. 
“Romantic and a little cheesy. The perfect combo,” you say.  
“100%.” He says while placing a kiss on your forehead. He pauses for a second and lets out a breath and says, “Listen, before you open the other two bags, let me tell you what we’re doing today,”.
“I’m listening,” you respond. 
“After we get ready we’re gonna head over to the botanical gardens,”
“Interesting,” you say while studying his facial expression. “We haven’t been there in a while,”.
“Yup. They have a bunch of new stuff for spring and a new exhibit we can check out. After that, we’ll be going over to that fancy new Italian place in Columbus for dinner,”
You slowly get off of Joe and look him in the eyes, “But I thought it was fully booked for the rest of the year,” 
“Yeah it was, but I pulled a few strings,” he says while giving you a look. You weren’t surprised at that. There have been numerous times you both got instant seats at a fully booked restaurant since he is Ohio’s golden boy so nobody can and wants to say no. 
You let out a little squeal before leaping onto him again. “I’m so excited you have no idea. Thank you. Thank you. Thank youuu,” you say with a massive smile. 
“That’s what I was hoping for. I hope I can keep that smile on your face the whole day,” he laughs while rubbing your back. 
“I think if I smile even more my face will get stuck like this,” you respond. 
He lets out a small laugh before continuing, “And then after that, I have one more final surprise but I’m not telling you what that is yet,” 
“Okayyy,” you smile before planting a kiss on his neck. 
Joe had been planning this surprise for a very very long time, and since your birthday was coming up, all the stars seemed to have aligned for tonight to be the night. He was planning on proposing to you after dinner. He had the ring in his pocket for the past 3 months but just couldn’t find the right moment to ask you to marry him, but he knew that he wanted to make your birthday this year the best yet, and this hopefully would cement that. Joe knew that you would be his forever from the day you first met; you always brought out the best in him and that was very clear from the beginning. His friends would tease him about how whipped he was even before you officially started dating, and that was 5 years ago. Years later, it’s still the same thing. He could never get enough of you; you felt like home to him. 
You had stuck by his side through thick and thin and never for a second thought about running for the hills, which he thought was surprising. The drama that came with dating an NFL quarterback was intense, and no ordinary girl would be able to handle that plus the chaos behind the scenes whenever something went wrong with Joe. You were one of the strongest, most selfless, and most special women he’d ever met, and he needed to make sure that this would be a forever thing. And you were completely clueless about what was happening, which made everything even more special. 
You then opened the other two bags and they had a new outfit for you to wear today. He picked out a new cropped tight-fit green sweater, a matching black mini skirt, sheer black tights, along with a matching headband to compliment the outfit. He even got you the knee-high boots you’ve had your eye on for a while. 
“You spoil me too much,” you tell Joe while admiring all your gifts.
“Well I’m getting paid a shit ton of money to do what I love, I might as well spend the money on the women I love,” he casually says while cleaning up the trash from your presents. 
You stare at Joe for a few moments while getting a warm feeling inside your stomach. God, how did you get so lucky? He’s just so perfect and his words never failed to make you feel like you were 16 again and had just been complimented by your first crush. And here you are at 26. Your boyfriend never failed to make you feel like that again and managed to make you fall more in love than you already were. 
Joe catches you staring at him and lets out a little laugh, “Well, quit staring Birthday Girl, go get ready,”.  
You run over to him for a quick kiss before excitedly running up the stairs to get ready for the day. You put on the new outfit Joe got for you and then put on some light makeup. Joe walks into the bathroom after putting on his outfit; an all-black look with a burgundy jacket you got him for his birthday last year. He looked absolutely delicious and you were struggling to hold yourself back from pouncing on him. 
“You look hot,” you say to him as you apply the last bit of your lipgloss.
“You look even hotter,” he responds while moving closer to you. 
“Well, I owe credit to the person who picked out this killer outfit,” you say as you put away your makeup and turn to face him while leaning back against the vanity. 
“If we didn’t have to leave in 10 minutes, I would so take you back to bed right now,” he smirks while resting his arms on both sides of the vanity table, caging you in.
“Settle down, plenty of time for that later tonight,” you playfully tease. 
“Can’t wait,” he winks while placing another soft kiss on your lips.
“I think my lips might fall off by the end of today,” you giggled against his pretty pink lips.
“Well, the Birthday Girl deserves her Birthday Kisses,” he says as he moves his arms while grabbing your hand to lead you out of the room, a love-struck look on both of your faces.  
You both get in the car and drive to the gardens just outside of Columbus. Joe tells you that you’ll be staying at the Columbus apartment for today since it’ll be a late night and his last surprise is over there.
“How many surprises do you have planned?” you grin. 
“We’ll see,” he says while meeting your eyes and flashing a smile.
“Looks like I’ll have to up my game for your birthday. This secrecy is impressive,”.
“You’re already enough. I don’t need anything,” he assures you. You already do so much for him that he never needs anything more. He knows that you feel the same about him, but he knows that he should always show his appreciation and love toward you even if you don’t ask for him to show it. 
“We’ll see about that,” you tease which causes him to let out a defeated sigh.
On the way to the gardens, You and Joe talked about your plans for the rest of the month. Since it was off-season, you guys had quite a bit of free time and were focused on doing more things as a couple since you didn’t get to do much last year with Joe’s calf injury and 100 other things going on. Joe was still recovering from his injury from this past season but was set on enjoying his time off more. 
“We could go to Florida for a bit?” you say as you were talking about vacation ideas. “Or back to that beach house we rented in Malibu last May?”.
“Sounds amazing,” he says while running his fingers through his hair. “We should do both if we can,”.
You smile and say, “I’ll check the calendar when we get home,”.
“We should also take your family on a trip somewhere soon too,” he adds. You looked over at him and felt that warm feeling in your stomach again. 
Joe always made sure to spend time with your family as much as he could. It was extremely important to him and always made sure they came to a few games throughout the season and that you both did something fun with them during the off-season. You’d see his family frequently since they only lived a few hours away, but he felt bad since your family was far away and couldn’t see them as often. 
“They did mention wanting us to come with them on the big dad’s side of the family Hawaii trip this year since we couldn’t last year because of your calf rehab,” you said. 
“We can definitely make that happen,” he says as he places his hand on your thigh, giving it a gentle squeeze. 
You look over at him and melt at his thoughtfulness. He didn’t really like going on big trips, especially ones out of the country, so this meant a lot to you. “God, I love you so much,” you whisper just loud enough for him to hear.   
“Right back at ya,” he says while grabbing your hand, bringing it to his lips, and kissing it. 
After a little while you arrive at the botanical gardens and Joe leads you inside, both of you stuck to each other’s side as you walk through the gardens. The first exhibit you both decide to walk around in is the Spring Flower Garden Walk. You both walked hand in hand through rows of gorgeous tulips, daffodils, and hydrangeas. 
“These are so pretty,” you say as you walk over to the field of tulips, mesmerized by their beauty.  
“Y/N, Look at these kick-ass orange hydrangeas,” he says across from you. One thing about Joe is that the man adored flowers just as much as you, maybe even more than you. He would get so excited every time you got him flowers and you thought it was the cutest thing in the world. Even though he was a football player, he was a softie through and through and you were one of the only people that got to see it. 
After walking through the flower walk, you venture over to the cherry blossom trees display. There were hundreds of beautiful pink blossom trees surrounding you both, and it felt like a scene out of a rom-com. You both spent a few minutes walking through the trees until Joe insisted he take a few photos of you surrounded by the trees. 
“Joe, you’ve taken like 50 pictures,” you laugh while he keeps taking more.
“Being with you has taught me that no amount of pictures is enough. Gotta get all the angles and candids. Also, you look absolutely gorgeous,” he beams. 
“You flatter me, Joseph,” you tease. “Here, let’s take a selfie,” you say as you motion for him to come over. You take the phone from him and angle it so that his tall frame would fit in the photo and take a few photos. 
“Aw, we look so adorable,” you say as you inspect the photo. You’re holding up the phone as Joe stands behind you while resting his chin against your head. His golden skin is glistening in the sunlight while both your smiles speak a thousand words. 
“We look perfect,” he says while pressing a kiss on the side of your head. 
After spending some time around the blossom trees, you follow the path to the greenhouse, “This literally looks like it belongs in a movie,” you say while admiring the various vines and greenery. 
“Looks like something straight out of Harry Potter,” Joe says while taking a few photos of the impressive design and details of the greenhouse.
You and Joe then take a walk around the lake and through the Italian Water Garden, admiring its natural beauty and detailed architectural features. You passed various fountains and structures that you learned were inspired by the sculptor's visits to Italy. 
As you were walking through the fountains, you remembered Joe mentioning a new exhibit that you would be visiting as well. “So what’s the new exhibit you were talking about?” 
“Good timing, we’re about to go there next. I think you’ll love it,” he says while squeezing your hand and giving you a warm smile. 
The path leads you to the conservatory where Joe says the newest exhibition is. “Okay, I’m gonna need you to close your eyes again,” Joe says as he stops you both just outside the door. 
“Okay,” you say as you close your eyes and feel Joe’s hand guide you through the door. 
He helps inside the conservatory and you immediately feel a ray of warm sunshine hit your face. “Open,” he says.
You open your eyes and immediately notice the hundreds of butterflies around the room. “Oh my god,” you whisper. “The fucking butterfly exhibit,” you say as you turn to face Joe. 
“Yup,” he says while crossing his arms across his chest, feeling proud that he remembered how you were telling him during your first date a few years ago about how much you enjoyed this special butterfly exhibit you went to in New York. These exhibits were pretty rare since they would showcase some of the rarest species of butterflies, so getting tickets was always a struggle. So, when he was planning your birthday, he saw that there was an exclusive butterfly exhibit coming to the botanical gardens this month and he had to take you there. Unfortunately, the tickets had sold out weeks ago but he was determined to get you both there. All it took was a quick phone call and a donation to the gardens and here he was, in the exhibit, watching the love of his life lose her shit over it. 
You walk over to him and pull him in for a big hug, “You remembered,” you cooed. 
“Of course I remembered,” he said while wrapping his arms around your waist.
“Thank you,” you say before giving him a sincere look. You felt tears pooling your eyes, the feels of the day so far were catching up to you and there was still the rest of the day to go.
You had spent about an hour in the butterfly exhibit, examining the various species of butterflies, learning about them, and taking a million pictures of the beautiful creatures. Joe had never been to a butterfly exhibit before but you could tell he was having the time of his life by how invested he was in the ‘learning about butterflies’ portion of the exhibit. 
“Joe don’t move,” you urge.
“What, what’s wrong,” he glances over with a slightly panicked look. 
“Just do not move a muscle,” you say as you pull out your phone again. 
You begin taking a few photos of him as there are 4 butterflies nestled on him and he had no idea. There was one on each of his arms and two on his left shoulder. He noticed you taking photos of him and looked around and saw the butterflies on him and let out a laugh which ultimately scared away the delicate beings. 
“Damn,” he said while moving back over to you.
“Well, lucky for us I did get a few good pics,” you say while showing him the candids. “Chick magnet for real,” you teased.
“Aye, the only chick that’s getting pulled to me by my magnetic field is you,” he deadpanned, causing you to let out a little chuckle. 
“What kind of butterfly is that one? It’s so sick,” he says while pointing at the one on his left arm in the photo.  
“That is a Palos Verdes Blue,” you say. “They’re usually around the Palos Verdes peninsula in Cali and almost went extinct. They released thousands of them back in 2020 in the hope to repopulate them,” you conclude.
“Damn, it’s crazy how they got some here,” he says.
“I know right,” you say while examining the photo. “This is why I love butterfly exhibits. You never know which butterfly you’ll see. Also because I’m kinda obsessed with butterflies and how they remind me of us,” you add while looking up at him.  
“Really?” he questions as his heart feels like it’s about to beat out of his chest. 
“Yup. You already know that right before we met I had just gotten over a nasty breakup. I thought that person was for me and that would be my forever, but once it ended, I felt lost and hopeless. I felt like I would never be able to find my person, and then I met you,” you say as you tuck your phone away and grab his hand. 
“You taught me how to love again. You showed me what freedom felt like and you gave me hope that my person is out there. It might have taken me a second to realize it then, but I’m glad I realized that person is you,” you say.
“With you, I feel like a butterfly. Free, hopeful, and loved,” you add. 
“Y/N,” he whispers while reaching to cup your face. 
“I love you, Joe. So much,” you say as you pull him into you. “Thank you for bringing me here,” you say against his neck. 
“I love you, Y/N. No need to thank me, ever,” he says while giving your forehead a sweet kiss. 
You stay wrapped up in a hug for a few more moments before deciding to finish up your visit to the gardens and head to the city for the second half of your birthday celebration. 
20 minutes later
You had made it onto the highway and were on the way to the city. You spent a few minutes trying to answer some birthday texts from friends and family while Joe was focused on the road.
Currently, you were humming along to the song on the aux, “Staring” by Tipling Rock, which you and Joe had dubbed to be your song ever since it was playing in the background at the party you met at. 
Flashback to the first time you met (2020)
Your POV
You were currently visiting your bestie at the University of Cincinnati during her break as she was finishing up her masters and she had managed to drag you to one of the clubs downtown to let loose. Unknowingly, you both were crashing a party thrown by a football player for the Cincinnati Bengals. Sam Hubbard had decided to throw a small party at a local club in celebration of his best friend getting drafted to the team as their QB1. You had no idea what you had walked into that night, but it was the night that changed your life. 
“I think those are some football players for the Bengals,” Sophia yells into your ear over the loud music while pointing to the other side of the bar. 
You look over to where she was pointing and see a group of muscular men doing shots and laughing like hyenas. 
“Damn, I didn’t think I’d see any famous people while I was here,” you replied. “Anyone noteworthy?” You question while bobbing your head to the song “Staring” on the speakers.
“Actually yeah, I think that’s Joe Burrow over there next to Sam. We just drafted him from LSU. He was the one that won the College Football Championship and Heisman,” she says while sipping her drink. 
You barely pay attention to what she’s saying because you find yourself staring at one of the guys. His tall frame, dirty blonde hair, and piercing blue eyes had you in a trance. 
“Yeah, he looks familiar,” you mumble while looking back at your friend. 
Joe’s POV
You got me staring like a fool
Yeah I know you want me too
“Who are those two girls over there,” I ask as I take another sip of my drink while bobbing to the song in the background. 
“No clue bro, I thought they closed this part of the club off for us,” Sam replies before taking another shot.
Sam’s voice became background noise for Joe as he found himself staring at the beautiful girl across the room. She seemingly was in a deep conversation with her friend and didn’t notice Joe staring over at her. Her beautiful smile and adorable facial expressions had Joe in a trance. She looked incredibly gorgeous in her little black dress and golden heels.
“Love at first sight?” Sam teases you while punching your shoulder. 
“Really funny,” I laugh, still staring over at her. I was silently wishing that she’d look over at me, and she did. She looked over and made direct eye contact with me, and I felt my heart skip a beat.
When you look back at me
Ah girl, I know you get me
“Oh shit, she's looking over at you,” Sam said.
“Shit.” I panicked as I watched her friend laugh and point over to me. “You think she caught me staring at her?”.
“Probably. Why don’t you go up to her,” Sam urges. 
“And make a total fool outta myself? Yeah, I'm good,” 
“Joe, It’s your first month in the city, let loose. You probably won’t ever see her again too,” Sam says with a wink. 
I thought about it for a second and he’s right, a small conversation won’t really hurt. We’ll just have to see where it goes, if it even goes anywhere. I doubt it will though, but harmless flirting never killed anyone. 
Your POV
“Y/N?” Sophia questions as she traces your gaze over to the group of men, specifically Joe, and realizes what is happening. A huge smile appears on her face, “I see you eyeing Joe over there,” she teases. 
“Shut up,” you playfully say while looking back over your bestie. 
You turned your head back over the group of guys and it felt like the world just stopped. Joe was looking right at you and you’d just made direct eye contact. A feeling of heat filled your stomach and you felt flushed. 
My eyes and your eyes
The sunlight, it's alright
“Oh my god, he’s looking at you,” your friend squeals while pointing to him. 
“Oh my god,” you whisper, feeling slightly embarrassed that he probably caught you eyeing him. 
“Go talk to him, girl. He’s looking at you like he wants to throw you over his shoulders and take you to bed,” she teases.
“Are you fucking crazy? This is the QB1 we’re talking about now. I’d be stupid to get involved with that,”.
“You’ll probably never see him again, Y/N. And after what happened with ‘he who shall not be named’, you need to have some fun,” she urges. 
She’s honestly right. I’ll probably never see him again since I don’t even think me and Sophia are supposed to be back here. I deserve to let loose after what I went through in my last relationship. A harmless conversation and some playful flirting won’t hurt. 
“Y/N..” Sophia says while slapping your arm to get your attention.
“What,” you say as you look over to her.
“He’s walking over,”. 
“Fuck,” I whispered.
I turned my neck back over to where the guys were and didn’t see Joe anywhere. Then I looked straight ahead and saw the quarterback making his way over to me, flashing a huge smile. He looked even better up close, and those eyes were just begging for you to get lost in them. 
“And that’s my cue to leave,” Sophia whispers into your ear. “Remember, safe sex is great sex,” she teases before sliding off the barstool and running away before you can beg her to stay. 
A million thoughts were floating around in my head right now. Why is he coming over? What should I say to him? Does he think I'm a crazy fan? Do I look good? 
Joe casually slides into the barstool next to you and meets your eyes. He stays silent for a few seconds before saying, “Hey, I’m Joe,”. 
“Hi, I’m Y/N,” you barely speak out before flashing him an honest smile. 
“Caught you looking over at me and my friends,” he smirks. 
Oh dear god. 
“Uhh yeah,” you smile while looking down at your thighs. 
Why was I so nervous? He doesn’t know me and I don’t know him. Fuck this shit. 
“I caught you staring at me too,” you boldly say while looking back up at him. 
Yeah, how could I look right past ya
You got me staring at ya
End of flashback 
While you were staring at Joe, he was gazing out onto the road, seemingly in a daydream much like how you just were. 
“You alright Babe?” you question while placing your hand on his thigh. 
He snaps out of his daze before flashing you a quick smile, “Yeah, sorry I was just thinking about something,”.
What Joe was thinking about was your final birthday surprise that would be after dinner. He was incredibly scared of how you would react to it since it quite literally would change both of your lives and it all started to feel really real. 
“Well, whatever it is that has you so dazed, snap out of it,” you giggle as you turn up the music to sing along to the song.
A smile appears on Joe’s face as he recalls the memory you had attached to this song all those years ago.
“Damn, I’m getting Deja Vu,” he says while looking over at you lovingly. 
“I can’t believe it. It feels like just yesterday I was stumbling over my words at the bar,” you giggle. 
“Please, you were exuding confidence the entire time we were talking,” he says. “I’m just glad you didn’t run away when I walked over to you,”.
“I did think about it for a second. But I am sooo glad I kept my ass in that barstool,”.
“Me too. And I’m glad you decided to let me take you out for dinner later that week,”.
“As if you’d let me leave the bar if I didn’t say yes,” you laugh. 
20 minutes later
Once you got to the restaurant, Joe dropped you at the door while he went around the back to park the car. The restaurant was overlooking the gorgeous blue river and the sky was a lovely mixture of orange, pink, and purple hues as the sun was setting. “Picture perfect,” you whisper to yourself as you catch a glimpse of your gorgeous boyfriend walking over to you. 
Joe had managed to get a private dining room overlooking the river for the two of you, away from prying eyes and overly invested strangers. When you walked into the room, you saw that it had been decorated just for you. A few balloons were scattered around the room, a custom menu was on the table, and soft music was playing in the background. You snap a few pics of the special setup, and then a few pics of you and Joe before sitting down. 
After, you both sat down at the table that had a few candles that produced a warm glow around you two, almost as if it was creating a bubble around you both. You had been sipping on chardonnay while eating delicious bruschetta and talking about the vibe of the restaurant, both agreeing that it may be your new favorite place. You had ordered your favorite Chicken Parmigiana, and Joe had ordered the Pasta alla Norma, and you guys couldn’t wait to dig in.
“Mmmm, this is sooo good,” you say while eating the tasty food.
“Very good,” Joe says while taking another sip of his wine to wash down the pasta. His nerves were still there and he was silently praying the wine would get rid of them as soon as possible.
“I could eat this for the rest of my life,” you say while putting your hand over your mouth to hide the food in your mouth. You noticed that Joe was staring outside for a few moments, looking a little anxious before he turned back to face you again. 
You set down your fork and reach over the table to grab his hand in yours, giving it a gentle squeeze. “You alright?” you say with worry in your voice. “If you feel nervous we can get to-go boxes and eat back at the apartment, I don’t mind at all,” you say while rubbing his hand.
There it was, your selfless and caring nature. Even on your own birthday, you were willing to change the plan just so Joe would feel more relaxed. He didn’t particularly enjoy going out because of the unwanted attention that he would get, and here you were, trying to soothe his anxiety by being willing to leave your special birthday dinner for him. 
“No, no. I’m fine,” he soothes. “We can stay,”. 
“Are you sure? You seem a little out of it right now,” you say with concern. 
How can he tell you that the reason he’s nervous is because of what’s happening after dinner and not the dinner itself? “I promise I’m okay,” he says while letting go of your hand and cupping your face, rubbing his thumb across your soft cheek. 
“If you say so,” you reply while placing your hand over his which was still on your cheek.
The rest of the dinner went pretty smoothly as you and Joe talked more about your potential vacations. After finishing up, you both talked to the manager for a little while and made sure to tell him that the food was out of this world. Joe grabbed your hand, interlocking it with his, and led you outside after you finished talking. You thought he was leading you to the car, but you were wrong as you both passed the car and started walking around the building. 
“Joe, the car is over there,” you say as you stop him. 
“Yes, it is. But your final surprise is over here,” he says as he continues walking and pulls you close to him. 
“Okay,” you giggle. 
You watch as he leads you both down the familiar street, eventually making it to the riverwalk. 
“Why are we here?” you question. 
“You’ll see,” he smiles. 
You continue walking down the riverwalk, the lamp posts being the only light other than the moon that was illuminating your surroundings. It was just the two of you out there, and that made this moment even more special. 
After a few more minutes of walking hand in hand, you see a few bright glowing lights in the distance. 
“What’s that,” you point out. 
“That is where we’re going,” Joe smirks.
“What on earth did you do,” you question while pulling him closer. 
Once you got closer to the light, you saw that it was a bunch of candles outlining the dock and there were various rose petals scattered around that eventually led to the end of the landing. 
Joe carefully helped you onto the dock and led you to the end by the railing. “Joe, this is so beautiful,” you say while squeezing his hand. 
“Do you know where we are right now?” He questions once you both reach the end of the dock. He places his arms on the railing and stares out into the river, which currently matches the shade of his eyes. 
You look around for a second and feel Deja vu. “You brought me here on our first date didn’t you,” you remember. 
“Bingo,” he says. After your delightful dinner date downtown, Joe had brought you over to the riverwalk to end the night, and you ended up sitting on this dock for over an hour talking about life. It was the most heartfelt and raw conversation he’d ever had with a person and that’s when he knew that you were going to be a special person in his life. 
“And you brought me here during our 3-month anniversary,” you say while looking over at him, smiling when you remember what happened here during that night.
“Damn 2 for 2,” he laughs. He had once again brought you to the exact same spot during your 3 month anniversary. This is also where you both told each other you loved each other for the first time. 
“This is kinda our spot now,” you smile as you watch Joe turn and face you. “So many special memories and moments,”. 
He nods his head and says, “It is. I hope we can create one more special memory tonight too,”.
It takes a few seconds for his words to register in your brain and you immediately feel butterflies in your stomach. Was this really happening?
Joe grabs both of your hands and holds them tight as he begins to talk. 
“Y/N, you are the greatest fucking thing to ever have happened to me. I wouldn’t be able to do any of this without your constant love and support. You’ve risked so much for me and have always shown up when I needed you. You’re smart, sexy, kind, and one of the strongest people I know,” he says as you feel tears pool your eyes.
“From the first time I saw you at that party, I knew that you were going to be a special person in my life. And after our first date, I knew that you’d be my forever. When I'm with you, it feels like nothing else matters and I need that comfort in this crazy life we live. Every day since then has been a dream for me because I get to spend it with you. You’re the only girl I want and the only girl I need, and I love you so much,” he continues as you feel hot tears sliding down your cheeks. 
“These past 5 years have literally been the best years of my life all because of you and I want to make this a forever thing,” he says while reaching for his pocket to pull out a box.
Your heart skips a beat and everything feels like it stopped, just like it did 5 years ago when you first saw Joe, and here he was down on one knee. 
He opens the box and inside sits a beautiful ring, one that you’d only ever dreamed about. 
“So, Y/N, will you be my forever and marry me?” He asks. 
You pause for a few seconds as you try to compose yourself. You stare into his baby-blue eyes and see nothing but love, passion, and home. 
You sob as you crouch down and plant a big kiss on his soft lips and say, “Yes, I’ll marry you,” in between tears. 
Joe stares into your eyes for a few seconds before capturing your lips in a passionate kiss. He grabs your hand and slides the stunning ring onto your finger, a ring that would now never come off. 
He helps you up and immediately pulls you into a tight hug. “We’re getting married,” he whispers into your ear as he sways you back and forth
You pull back and your eyes go wide, “Oh my god I’m a fiancée,”. 
Joe lets out a laugh and says “Yes, you are,”. 
“Oh my god, I’m going to be a Burrow,” you whisper scream. “Holy fuck, you’re my husband,” you realize. 
“I am so lucky,” he laughs as he pulls you back in for a hug. 
“Please, I think I hit the jackpot here,” you laugh. 
“Nah, I def struck gold with you,” he says as he hugs you tighter. 
After staying at the dock for a few moments to soak in the moment and take a few pictures, you head back over to the car and then rush to the apartment. You both were overcome with so many emotions: love, passion, desire, and lust. He needed to get you both home so you could express them in private and show each other how much you loved one another. 
Now, you both were lying on the bed, your head resting on his bare chest as you both were recovering from a long and passion-filled lovemaking session. 
You look down at your hand again--maybe for the 100th time this night--and admire the ring on your finger. You couldn’t believe it was real, that this was real. 
You look up at Joe and say, “Thank you for making this the best birthday ever,”. He really made this the greatest day and birthday of your life. 
He looks down and meets your gaze. “Don’t thank me Y/N. You deserve this,”.
“I love you,” he whispers in your ear. 
“I love you, forever and always. I can't wait to do this with you forever,” you say back as Joe releases you from his embrace and moves to hover over you again. 
“What are you doing,” you giggle as he starts kissing you all over your face, eventually making it to your lips.
“Birthday Kisses remember. Your lips still haven’t fallen off yet. And I’m also not done with you yet,” he says in between kisses. 
You let out a soft laugh before closing your eyes and enjoying what was to come. He had managed to make this birthday the best damn birthday of your life, and it could only get better now that you’d have him forever. 
—The End—
293 notes · View notes
ateezscupid · 5 months
Note
Hiiii I love your fics ! I wanted to know if you could do a fic with dom- minjoong and sub f. reader ?
𝗧𝗪𝗢'𝗦 𝗕𝗘𝗧𝗧𝗘𝗥 𝗧𝗛𝗔𝗡 𝗢𝗡𝗘 ★
𝗔𝗧𝗘𝗘𝗭 𝗠𝗔𝗦𝗧𝗘𝗥𝗟𝗜𝗦𝗧 / 𝗥𝗘𝗤𝗨𝗘𝗦𝗧
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plot - you planned a calm night with mingi and hongjoong recording in the studio, but it ended way differently than you thought it would.
warn - smut and fluff, dom!mingi, dom!hongjoong, sub!reader, fingering, oral (m and f), praise and some degrading if u squint LOL, pet names (baby, princess, pretty girl, love), poly!au, big dick mingi, reader's shorter than joong and min, kind of size difference mentioned BUT there is a size kink if u squint, unprotected sex, joong and mingi are pussy drunk and absolutely love the reader
w/c -
𝗧𝗔𝗚S - @felixs-voice-makes-me-wanna @starillusion13 @mingitheskzstan @yeolistic @jeonride @ate-ez
A/N - this has been sitting in my drafts for MONTHS and i finished it. also, back from my break babes! ^^
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Mingi and Hongjoong were like two peas in a pod. they did — quite literally — everything together. They went to concerts together, designed merchandise together, produced and wrote lyrics together; even going to the bathroom together seemed like something the two boys did a lot. you’ve always loved their friendship. It was so cute how Mingi would treat Hongjoong like a younger brother even though Joong was older, and he kind of just accepted it knowing he couldn’t get Mingi to stop.
When you introduced yourself to the two, you didn’t realize how easy it was for them to become attached to you. They acted like they had known you for years, and for you it felt like you had found your soulmates because of their welcoming aura. Out of all of your friends, Hongjoong and Mingi were your favorites.
Hongjoong was the friend who spent too much time at work trying to make sure whatever he was working on was perfect — and who also had a bit of a smoking problem. Hongjoong was high most of the time whenever you saw him.
Mingi was the friend who was — just like hongjoong — always high, except he didn’t spend a lot of time in the studio. He was always out at clubs or doing something stupid with the other members.
To say the least, the boys were like fully grown adult babies.
Since your schedule was always empty, you spent a lot of time with the Ateez members; specifically with Joong and Mingi. You were always hanging out at their music video sets, in their dressing rooms, or just in general in the KQ building doing god knows what. It was fun hanging out with the boys. They acted so normal around you and you loved it.
Now you were hanging out with Mingi and Hongjoong in the studio. They were song writing and producing a few songs while you sat on the couch scrolling through your phone. There was definitely silence in the studio, ignoring the music playing, but it wasn’t an awkward silence. You three were fine being in complete silence as long as it meant being in each others presence.
“Yo Hj, go over that one line again,” Mingi peeked above his computer. “Y/n, are you bored? Sorry if we’re not talking to you, we’re just really focused.”
“What?” you scoff playfully and sit up. “Don’t worry about me, I don’t really care about you guys talking to me or not, Im fine either way.”
“Cool, just makin’ sure.” Min smiled then looked back at his computer. You always found him adorable whenever he wore glasses. They fit him so well, and he didn’t seem to agree until you started complimented him. It wasn’t long after that he started wearing his glasses more often.
With or without the glasses, Mingi had a pretty face. It was the same for Hongjoong. You’ve always found the two men incredibly attractive; your eyes examining their features whenever they weren’t looking. You of course never acted upon your emotions, but there have been moments between you three that would confirm your feelings for them.
Like the time you were hanging out with the boys while they were filming Inception. As of now, you’re confused why you didn’t choose Seonghwa first. Everything about him in that music video had you drooling. As if his body being drenched in water wasn’t enough, his facial expressions and body made you horny desperate for him.
Hongjoong and Mingi both noticed how your body was reacting to Seonghwa’s movements during the dance and felt jealous. They didn’t remember you looking at them like that. You remember the boys bombarding you with questions after they made it back to their dorms.
“Do you like Seonghwa?” and “Do you have a crush on anybody?”
“Why were you looking at Seonghwa like that?”
“Do you have a crush on anybody?”
All these questions were new to you since they hadn’t bothered you like this before. You could only assume it was because of the way you looked at Seonghwa that made them jealous. But why were they jealous? They didn’t like you, at least, that’s what you thought. They never showed any signs that told you they were interested in you… Unless they did and you were too dumb to realize.
Just thinking about it now made you wonder if they actually liked you, and if they had like you this entire time, why didn’t they say anything? You thought they’d be fighting over you if they both liked you but they weren’t.
Clearly they didn’t have a problem with sharing.
You stare at your phone for a few minutes contemplating on whether or not you should ask them. Or better yet, just blurt out that you like them and see where that takes you. You glance over at Hongjoong, and to your surprise, he was already looking at you. He immediately looked away and stared at the sheet of lyrics in front of him, Mingi noticing the flushed look on his face and looking at you. They knew you knew.
“Can I ask you guys something?” you finally muster up the courage to say something. It looked as if the blood drained from their face when you said that.
“Uh, sure,” Mingi closes his laptop halfway and Hongjoong nods, taking his headphones off completely.
“Do you guys have a crush on anybody? We’ve been friends for long and we’ve talked about almost any and everything but crushes. How come you guys never told me about any crushes you guys have? Or had.”
Hongjoong looks at Mingi, mouth ajar as if he were going to speak but stayed quiet. Mingi was also quiet, fidgeting with his mouse and looking around the room. Clearly they were nervous to answer the question, and you didn’t mean to make them nervous.
“Sorry if I’m asking for too much, I just wanna know! I mean, you guys have told me your celebrity crushes but that’s not the same.”
“I mean,” Hongjoong leaned back in his chair, slightly lifting his hips. You noticed this and bit your lip, struggling to keep eye contact with him.
“We never told you because it’s complicated.”
“How is it complicated? If you don’t mind me asking,” You cris-cross your legs on the couch. “I mean, I’m pretty easy to talk to. You guys know this.”
“We know!” Mingi sighed. “If we told you, you’d freak out. And you’d probably think we were weird,”
“I won’t think you’re weird! Come on, it’s just us,” you walk over to the chair next to Mingi and sit down in it, placing a hand on his arm and tilting your head. Your small touch alone made Mingi shiver.
“Well, we…” he glances over at Hongjoong who nodded his head in approval. “we like you.”
That wasn’t what you were expecting at all. Well, you kinda did expect it but it was surprising. They said it so easily as if they weren’t scared to tell you earlier. Averting your gaze to Hongjoong, he nodded slowly as if saying what Mingi said was true. You knew the boys wouldn’t lie to you. You all made an agreement that you’d tell each other anything no matter what it was.
“Sorry if it’s so sudden,” Hongjoong sighs deeply. “I know I said I wasn’t really looking to date anyone and Mingi knew that too, but you kinda just…came into our life and changed it ever since.”
“Do you both like me? I already know the answer but I like it hearing it from you guys.” you smile and kick your feet.
“Oh my god,” Mingi chuckles. His deep voice was always so attractive. “First Joong liked you and I may or may not have teased him a bit for his stupid crush on you. But then I started understanding why he liked you and then I started liking you. We kinda had to come to an agreement since we didn’t know what to do if both of us liked you.”
“I’m not gonna say we argued, but we argued.” Hongjoong chuckles behind his desk. “We both sorta agreed to being okay with the other liking you, but we don’t know if you’re okay with…dating two people.”
“Joong, are you kidding? If it’s you two I don’t care. I’m actually kind of relieved that you guys don’t mind dating me. I thought I’d have to choose between you guys and I didn’t want to do that.”
“Well now you don’t have to since you know we both like you,” Mingi leaned back in his chair — manspreading. You thought you had better self control but you definitely didn’t. Just seeing him sit like that made you rub your legs together. You weren’t aware of the fact that the boys saw you doing this, nor were you aware of the looks they gave each other.
“So…I assume this means we’re — dating? All of us?”
“Would you like that Y/n?” Hongjoong averted his gaze, his eyes glazing over your body. He could never get over how good you looked in his and Mingi’s clothes. Being surprisingly shorter than Mingi and Hongjoong, their clothes were always baggy on your body, which made them so comfortable. He liked watching you rummage through their closets trying to find an outfit for the day since you had given up on wearing your own clothes.
“I would love that!” You say with a gummy smile, a bit too excited for your own good.
“I’m kinda surprised you didn’t say anything about us before. I mean, you said you knew we liked you,” Mingi said.
“Well I didn’t wanna say anything before because I wasn’t really sure. I only went by the things you guys were doing and you guys were doing a lot.”
“Like what?” Hongjoong tilts his head.
You didn’t think he’d ask. “Y’know, getting jealous whenever I looked or even talked to the other members, over complimenting me even when I looked bad, always staring at my body — Mingi, you liked looking at my tits. I always caught you look at them,”
“You looked at her tits?” Joong raised his eyebrow at Mingi.
“I-I did like once,” Mingi scratches the back of his head. “You’ve looked at her ass before so you can’t sit here and act like you didn’t do anything wrong!”
“You’ve looked at my ass before?” the question made them both flustered. You weren’t necessarily surprised by the behavior; more so happy they even admitted to doing it. At least they felt comfortable enough to tell you things like that.
“Well are there any more embarrassing things you guys wanna spill about each other or are you guys done?”
Hongjoong started giggling, covering his mouth with his hand and looking at Mingi. You could tell it was something stupid based off the way he sounded.
“Mingi didn’t know how to—”
“Shut up dickhead!” Mingi shouted defensively not even allowing Hongjoong to finish. Him interrupting only made Joong laugh louder. His laughing caused you to start laughing.
“Joong say it! What is it!” You lean closer, arms resting on the desk. Mingi tried covering your ears but you kept moving.
“He was scared to tell you he liked you because he thought you guys would kiss and he didn’t know how to kiss so he asked me to help him!” Hongjoong almost fell back in his chair laughing, his headphones falling off his neck and his legs kicking underneath the desk. Mingi was definitely embarrassed, though he seemed to be embarrassed because he couldn’t kiss, not because he kissed Hongjoong.
“You guys kissed? Like — on the lips? Or…” —
“On the lips, Y/n, I didn’t say he could go that far. But he did it to impress youuu! I already know how to kiss so I was fine teaching him what I knew.”
You nod and turn to Mingi. “So he taught you? You know how to kiss now?”
“I-I guess,” he cleared his throat nervously. “You want me to show you?”
“Are you guys really gonna makeout in front of me? If you’re gonna do it, let me watch.” he stands up from his seat and moves toward the couch you were just sitting on, taking a seat himself and positioning himself so he saw you two making out — if you were even going to do so.
Mingi’s eyes glazed over your features, seeming to be glued to your lips since he couldn’t take his eyes off of them. Leaning in slowly, his hand lifting and resting on your cheek while pulling your face closed, his and your eyes closing. Hongjoong sat watching in anticipation with his foot tapping on the ground, a wide smile on his face. He kept whispering the words ‘kiss her’ and ‘hurry up’ since you two were taking a bit long.
With his hand holding your cheek and your faces inching closer and closer, your lips finally attached. He captured your lips tenderly, your expression softening as you relaxed in his hood, leaning gently into the kiss to create more friction of some sort. He was enjoying it himself as well — having his arm wrapped around you pulling you deeper into the kiss and making sure you couldn’t back away. Not like you planning on it. It was crazy — a bit unbelievable how he didn’t protest when you asked him to kiss you, but you were happy he was doing it.
As the two of you kissed you felt someone behind you. The only other person in the room was Hongjoong, so you could only assume it was him. He watched closely as you two kissed, growing a bit impatient himself since he didn’t get the chance to kiss you yet.
“Mingi, hurry upp. I wanna kiss her too,” he whined behind you. Once Mingi’s lips separated from yours, Joong’s fingers curled around your neck and leaned down, attaching his own lips to yours and holding you still. Whatever you had gotten yourself into, you couldn’t possibly take yourself out. It wasn’t like you wanted to but you knew you were going to have a fun night.
In full honesty, it was a lot to take in. The both of them were kissing you, their hands all around your body overwhelming your senses. It’s not like you haven’t imagined the two in bed before but for it to happen now was so unexpected.
“She’s so pretty,” Mingi mumbles under his breath, hands gently caressing your thighs. “so gorgeous.”
Hongjoong pulls away from your lips, running a thumb across your cheek. “You think we should do it tonight? Of course, if she’s okay with it.
“Okay with what? W-What do you guys mean?”
“…” Joong looked at Mingi then back to you. “Y’know, a threesome.. If it’s too unexpected we don’t have to do it—”
“Y-Yes! Yeah, whatever you wanna do to me, do it. Please.”
They didn’t have to be told twice. As Mingi pulled you into his lap, Hongjoong stood behind you and held your hair out of your face, fingers still wrapped around your neck as Mingi pulled you into yet another kiss. Your tongues fought for dominance but Min won, making you feel like your body was going numb. They played with you as if you were putty. You began to grind your hips onto Mingi while holding onto his shoulders, moaning into his mouth because of the friction. It wasn’t a lot but it was enough to get you wet. Just as you were doing so, you felt something big rubbing against your crotch.
You knew what it was.
“Aw she’s moving on harder on you,” Joong teased, his hands moving all across your body and even groping your breasts. “You got hard that quick?”
Mingi broke away from the kiss. “Well what would you do if a girl you liked was grinding on your dick? Would you not get hard?”
“I would but still, damn.” Mingi lets go of you and allows Hongjoong to pull you away from him. He brings you over to the couch and finally settles you into his lap, hands caressing your thighs like Mingi’s did earlier, giving your clothes heat access to his own bulge. You lazily drag yourself against his length. This alone had you soaked in your panties and you were about ready to rip them off of your heated body.
“My pretty girl grinding on me like this,” Hongjoong almost growls in your ear, hugging your waist and groaning softly in your ear. “you’re such a dirty girl,”
“Mm,” you whimper. “I… know,”
Not realizing Mingi had come over, his hands reach underneath your hips and grab the hem of the bottoms you were wearing, pulling them off and discarding them onto the floor next to him. Joong tilted your head at an almost uncomfortable angle to attach his mouth onto yours and you eagerly return the kiss, tongues clashing together.
Mingi watched you grind on each other, though he’s not sure he can handle watching you two do it any longer. He pulls your hips forward and pushes your underwear to the side, hands squishing your thighs and lips enveloping your clit. You jolt and moan into your kiss with Joong while holding onto his leg, gripping for your life at this point.
“So wet,” Mingi hums. “for me?” his fingers come to play with your folds. Your body was surging with such an electric feeling you felt lightheaded. With simple touches, you were already crumbling. It wasn’t like this with your past partners in bed.
His hand slides underneath your ass and attaches his mouth to your heat. Your core was twitching so much, already overstimulated by barely anything. Hongjoong took this as his opportunity to grope your breasts, now comforting you as Mingi ate you out. His tongue moves in and out of you, spending a few seconds looking for that one spongey spot inside of you. Your thighs close around his head, and your back arched off of Joong’s chest.
You couldn’t focus on his hands on your body while Mingi ate you out like this. It was impossible.
Once his fingers enter you everything goes blank, your legs closing immediately and you having to break away from Hongjoong’s kiss to catch your breath. You came so quick and easy it was almost embarrassing.
“She’s so cute!” Hongjoong cooed as he rubbed your waist. “Came so quick from barely anything.”
“Please…” you moan softly, arching your back and trying to grind your hips on Hongjoong again. “I-I… want—”
“We’ll give it to you, baby.” Mingi spoke as he stood to his feet. Joong lifted you from the underside of your legs and placed you on your back on the sofa, Mingi now replacing him and getting between your legs. He stripped himself of his sweatpants and pushed his boxers low enough to where his cock could spring out.
It would be an understatement to say he was just big.
“M-Min…, that’s not gonna fit,”
“Then I’ll make it fit.”
As you were ready to protest, a sharp pain seethed through your body. You hadn’t realized Hongjoong slid behind you and help you lay on top of his chest, your lower body feeling numb once Mingi went inside. You were too focused on the literal intrusion that your body was going through to realize Joong’s hand moving to your clit. He delivered a sharp slap to it, making you lurch forward and cry out loud.
“Aw, poor baby can’t handle it,” Joong murmurs as Mingi began thrusting.
Your walls were contracting against his cock with every movement, hips angled so he could hit your deepest parts. He was so big, stretching your walls and making it feel like you were being ripped apart. Mingi tried going slow so you could adjust to his enormous size, but good god, he was huge. Adjusting to his size was going to take a very long time. He kept glancing at you to check your facial expressions, stopping the movement of his hips if he felt like he was hurting you.
“It’s okay, princess,” Mingi said calmly while doing slow strokes. “I know it’s a lot, just breathe.” his deep voice helped you calm down much faster. He grabs ahold of your hips and speeds up the pace of his thrusts. There was slick already sliding down your thighs.
Immediately your hands flung to his body, hips grinding against him to feel some sort of friction. Your nails dug into his skin while you tried holding on for dear life. It was so much to handle at once.
Reaching your hand back, you were desperately searching for Hongjoong’s dick, anything to hold on your hands. You felt bad since you hadn’t done anything besides kiss him yet, so this was the last you could do. Of course, he attempted to stop you saying he didn’t need you to do anything, but you weren’t listening. You were being driven by sex.
“Y/n, you don’t have to—” your hand grasps onto his clothed dick. He did want you to touch him, so he allowed you to do whatever to him. Of course, the angle at which you were laying made it difficult for you to stroke him, but you tried your best, running your thumb over his slit and spreading his pre-cum all over.
“Joong why don’t you…fuck,” Mingi cursed, head spinning from how nice you felt around his cock. “f-fuck her face. Give her something to do with her filthy little mouth,”
“I-I don’t think she can even hear us—”
“Little whore already fucked out?” Min pants and deepens his thrusts.
Hongjoong slid from underneath your now limp body and grabbed a fistful of your hair, lifting it and wiping the drool off your cheek with his thumb. Mingi held your hips with his nails digging into your body, leaving crescent moon shapes embedded in your skin, while Hongjoong was preparing to face fuck you.
He pulls his pants down to his thighs, pulling your head closer to his hips by your hair and slapping his cock on your cheek. You couldn’t handle the scene unfolding in front of you.
“Open,” Hongjoong spoke, slapping his tip against your lips. You obeyed and lazily opened your mouth. It opened more as he pushed himself inside of you.
“So warm,” he groans. “so wet, all for us.”
Joong was much bigger than you imagined, and you weren’t ashamed to say you had thought about Hongjoong naked before. It was safe to say you’ve thought about all of the members naked. The only ones you’ve thought of the most were Mingi and Hongjoong, mainly Mingi. Even seeing only his collarbone sometimes would cause you to drool. Hongjoong had you drooling whenever you saw any part of his body.
His hips moved back and forth, pushing his cock in and out of your mouth, making sure to hit the back of your throat with each thrust while also making sure you were still breathing. Though you didn’t mind if he made it hard for you to breathe. Being used like a cum dump by these two has been a dream of yours for a while.
“Fuck, baby, your mouth feels good…” Hongjoong groaned as his pace accelerated. You gagged each time his tip hit the back of your throat, but you didn’t care.
A sharp thrust from Mingi’s hips caused your body to jerk and for a string of fire to shoot down to your core. Your moans were muffled due to Joong being in your mouth, but it only fueled Min to go faster inside of you, thinking about how you’d sound if your mouth wasn’t full right now. Joong placed his hand on the back of your head and began thrusting his hips faster, droll trickling down your bottom lip and down your chin from the stimulation.
Your thighs wouldn’t stop twitching. However, how could they stop? Mingi was plowing the last amount of life out of your hole, and Hongjoong used your mouth as if you were a glory hole for him and only him for his own personal use.
How could you possibly stay still during all this?
“I think—fuck, I think she’s close.” Mingi groans and plants his hands on the couch cushions, freeing your hips from his hold and allowing his own to angle differently so he can strike into you deeper.
Your head was spinning at this point. You had no control over the noises you made or your body anymore. Everything about you belonged to them now. Knowing you were close to your release, Hongjoong pulled his member out of your mouth and slapped it on your cheek gently, allowing you to rest your head on his lap while Mingi was wrecking your hole. Your eyes rolled back, your head fell, and garbled words spilled out of your mouth. All you can do is whine and cry out in pleasure while your head spins.
Mingi brings his hand down and presses his thumb against your aching clit, rubbing in fast circles to push you further over the edge until you tipped over, curses spilling out from your swollen lips alongside Mingi's name. At the same time, Mingi held onto your thighs and bottomed out inside of you finally dumping his load inside of you. Your head falls into Hongjoong's lap. He runs his fingers through your hair, easing you through your orgasm.
"You okay, tiny?" Hongjoong caresses your cheek. It took a moment to catch your breath after everything that happened. Jesus, that was a lot.
"I..." After catching your breath, you looked at Hongjoong with puppy eyes and a pout you knew he couldn't resist. "Joongie~" you whine while reaching for his hand. Mingi couldn't help but laugh at how desperate you were. How completely fucked out you looked too.
"What is it?"
"You haven't gotten a turn yet..." you mumbled while pulling on his shirt. Mingi moved out of the way without saying a word, gesturing for Hongjoong to come over. The two men switched places with Hongjoong near your hips and Mingi behind your head caressing your cheek.
Hongjoong wasn't as big as Mingi, but his length made up for it. You knew it would hit your sweet spot easily. Hongjoong positioned himself in front of you, tip lined up with your entrance and his unoccupied hand holding onto your hip. Slowly -- achingly slow, he pushes himself into you in one go, holding onto your hips tightly to not lose balance. Mingi, on the other hand, had his hand on your breast playing with your nipple. So much was happening at once it was hard to keep up.
"It's okay," Joong coos, beginning to thrust in and out of you gently. You were still so sensitive from your orgasm with Mingi. Hongjoong had just started, and it felt good. "Fuck, you're tight."
Out of nowhere, he picks up his pace. He didn't give you enough time to adjust to his length and started pounding into you, gliding his cock in and out of your warmth and watching your juices coat his member. When he heard a whimper escape your lips, he knew he was doing a good job.
"Babe," he says in between pants. "T-Touch yourself for me, yeah? Give Mingi a show while he watches,"
Embarrassed but ultimately turned on, you complied and slithered your hand down your stomach and toward your throbbing clit, rubbing rough and fast circles on it to bring yourself closer to orgasm. Hongjoong winced as you clenched around his cock from the sensation.
"Oh, fuck please," you cried out. "I-I'm gonna cum, slow down-!"
"Already?" Mingi chuckles. "What do you think, Joong? Should we let her?"
"Dammit, if she does, then I-I just might." he shudders, both hands holding onto your hips and slamming his cock in and out of your sopping hole. "I think, fuck, she's been good. Let go, baby."
You were so so close to cumming, the speed of your fingers speeding up as the circles you were rubbing in became sloppy. Occasionally you'd lose focus and wouldn't even move your fingers due to your brain turning to mush. Their voices sounded muffled in your ears. Everything they said went through one ear and out the other.
"Fuck fuck fuck-!" the volume of your moans gradually increased until you couldn't handle it anymore and came. You arched your back and curled your toes, holding onto Hongjoong's wrists. You clenched so tightly around his cock that it pushed him over the edge. He dumped his load inside of you, moaning your name and panting heavily.
"Wow.." Mingi whistles, looking at your fucked out face. "You're so pretty when you cum."
"Shut up," you replied, embarrassed with your hands over your face.
"That was fun," Hongjoong sighs deeply. "I'd do it again." he says while looking at Mingi. Mingi nods in agreement and the two look at you, waiting for your answer.
"I...wouldn't mind."
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the-s1lly-corner · 3 months
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Taking their clothing because you miss them (Creepypasta)
two things: i promise im still working on the eyeless jack x reader fic to celebrate 1k TToTT my steam for writing the fic is just dwindling a little since its very different from my usual posts </3 but i still intend on getting it done! in fact id say its about halfway done, if you dont include proofreading and fixing stuff!! so theres definitely.. something.. i just dont have a time window for it </3 originally i was going to write this with ben/jeff/toby and make it platonic but, i realize this prompt is usually used for romance stuff so theyre gonna sit this post out, ill probably think of another group post soon to make up for it but shrugs getting into the writing i realize i wrote this prompt for some characters a while ago so im going to link those parts in their place
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SLENDERMAN:
you take his tie! normally i would say his jacket, but i feel like thats such an obvious choice.. imagine you dont know how to tie it so he walks in on your fumbling with it. trying in vain to get it down... he probably thinks its a little amusing... i mean who wouldnt? kind of just watches you fiddle with it for a minute before making his presence known, likely making you jump. he would much rather you ask than take his clothing, he doesnt have much of it (though is there much need for it, anyway?) (non sexual obviously). probably teaches you how to properly do the tie. his hands absolutely consume yours
SPLENDORMAN:
just ask him and hes going to give you just about any piece of clothing he has on him! i like to think that he lets you have his hat a lot of the times. especially after he walked in on you trying it on.. sure it might be a little too big for you, what with splendor being very tall and thus having a larger head than yours... probably goes on and on about how adorable you look. i mean hes always telling you how cute or pretty you are but it hits different for him when youre wearing something of his. you dont have to ask for his clothing, hes very open to sharing! definitely gets an alternate outfit so he can match with you every now and then
MASKY:
naturally, you steal his jacket! i mean it looks so comfortable, does it not? this isnt an easy feat, by the way. since hes wearing it most of the time, so youre probably going to have to snag it when hes showering or something. quietly stares at you... he DOES think its cute but i do think he would try to get his clothing bad. another jacket similar in style to his mysteriously makes its way into your closet and its also in your size. dont ask where it came from.. he totally didnt steal it..! likely wouldnt want you to take whats his without asking or at least letting him know.. hence him getting your own jacket. wont physically rip it off of you, though, hes not that cold
PUPPETEER:
i think he loves seeing you in his clothing. he thinks you look cute.. but also... pathetic? usually lets you wear his coat or hat if you ask nicely. he already knows youre going to snatch something before you even do it but stays quiet because he thinks its pathetic/adorable, you think youre being so sly but youve already been caught. will tease you for it. a lot. its kind of his own way of getting you to do it again. genuinely thinks its one of the best things in the world. dont admit you do it because you sometimes miss him or like how he smells, its going to do ungodly things to his ego
EJ, LJ, AND HOODIE:
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fl3shm4id3n · 11 months
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Girl I saw u open requests for spider verse and I ran here right away snsnsknsmsjdndh I'm bad at explaining shit but could you write something for miguel that's like wait i forgot what I was gonna say damn I had a good scenario in my head too well hell never mind just ignore this I think im still tweaking lmao
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ₗₐ ᵥᵢᵤdₐ ₍ₜₕₑ Wᵢdₒw₎
𝐒𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲: 𝐘𝐨𝐮 𝐧𝐞𝐯𝐞𝐫 𝐭𝐡𝐨𝐮𝐠𝐡𝐭 𝐲𝐨𝐮'𝐝 𝐬𝐞𝐞 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐟𝐚𝐜𝐞 𝐨𝐟 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐦𝐚𝐧 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐥𝐨𝐯𝐞𝐝, 𝐛𝐮𝐭 𝐡𝐞 𝐰𝐚𝐬 𝐧𝐨𝐭 𝐲𝐨𝐮𝐫 𝐡𝐮𝐬𝐛𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐩𝐚𝐫𝐭𝐢𝐜𝐮𝐥𝐚𝐫𝐥𝐲.
ᴘᴀɪʀɪɴɢ: ᴍɪɢᴜᴇʟ ᴏ'ʜᴀʀᴀ x ꜱᴘɪᴅᴇʀ-ᴡᴏᴍᴀɴ!(ᴡɪꜰᴇ) ʀᴇᴀᴅᴇʀ
ꜱᴏɴɢ: ᴛʜᴇ ꜱʏʟᴠᴇʀꜱ- ʀᴇᴍᴇᴍʙᴇʀ ᴛʜᴇ ʀᴀɪɴ
TW: Angst, Death, grieving, comfort towards the end
A/N: I had a fic idea for Miguel (My beloved), and now I shall write it. I listened to I bet on losing my dogs by Mitski while writing this. I didn't cry, I swear. I hope this was to your liking, I couldn't wait, I had the need to write something.
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You had lost everything, your daughter and your husband. You knew that being Spider-Woman had a prize, but you didn't expect for it to be like this. First it was your aunt and now your family was gone. Sometimes you wished that you could of gone back in time in time to save your husband and daughter, but there was no way. The first weeks, you basically slept at the graveyard, on top of there tombstones, you didn't want to part away from them.
For many years you've mourned, you never let yourself fall in love again, your husband was the love of your life and the only man that you'd ever love. You felt as if you were betraying him in a way, you had promised to him that you'd never love anyone else but him and him only. You still had your wedding wing, you'd wear it on your hand and when out on patrol, you never took it off. You also still had his stuff in your room, pretending as if he was still there, you didn't have the heart to give his stuff away to people who needed it, you couldn't do it.
You also kept your daughter's room the same, you left it alone, the only time when you'd move anything was when you'd go to clean off the dust and change the bedsheets. Sometimes you'd go in her room to just look at the stuff she had, you felt as if she was with you the whole time. You'd lay on her bed while hugging her soccer jersey, her first jersey, sometimes you'd cry on the shirt, wishing that she was there, telling you and your husband about her game. Just like your husband's things, you didn't want to give them away. How could you? She was you first baby, your daughter, the one that you carried in your belly for nine months, the one who'd cry when she was hungry or wanted her parents attention, she was yours and Miguel's baby. Gabriella will always and forever be your child. Sometime you wore the little gold bracelet that she owned when she was still a baby, on a necklace, to have something of hers on while on patrol.
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That was unexpected, you had ended up in a secret Spider Society with Miles. A boy you began to work with after bumping into one another while trying to stop a mugger, that was when you decided to team up together as a duo. You knew about his identity and he knew about yours. You both had come up with the excuse that you were a lady that was teaching him Spanish since his parents would wonder where he'd wonder off to. It worked his you knew Spanish, it was a different kind of Spanish, but his mother was happy that he was learning it.
You were getting to learn about all the Spider-Men and women, how they were all from different dimensions and what they did in headquarters. Then you got taken to a room, where who you assumed the leader of the whole thing was. As soon as you saw who it was, you nearly fainted. It was the one and only, Miguel O'Hara, your husband, well, not really your husband, but it was him.
"Y/n... is that who I think it is?" Miles whispered to you, then he saw the look off shock in your face, getting the idea that you knew who it was. Miles knew about your past, who your husband and daughter were. When the man turned, his serious face turned to one of shock, just like yours. Gwen was the one to noticed both you and Miguel staring at each other, then she had an idea. "I...um.. I'm going to show Miles around a bit" she excused, then took Miles by the arm, guiding him out and Hobie followed them.
Miguel approached you slowly, seen every inch of you, wanting to see if it was you, his wife, not his particular wife, but you were her. After a bit of staring, he spoke. "You're not my wife.." he said, sadly, then you responded. "You're not my husband.." you said, with tears forming in your eyes. Miguel wanted to hold you in his arm so bad, comfort you and tell you how much he missed you, but he didn't.
You sigh, wiping off your tears. "So... you're spider man.." you said, there was a bit of an awkward silence, then he spoke. "And you're spider woman.." he said, as he reached over and placing a pieced of your hair behind your ear. You couldn't help but ask. "Gabriella... how is she..?" you asked, Miguel almost flinched violently by the question. "She's... gone.." he said, sounding very defeated by his response. You swallowed the lump that had built up on your throat. "You too?" you asked, this time tears had spilled from your eyes.
This made Miguel look at you, he got the memo that Gabriella was also gone in your universe. It hurt, seen that in both his and yours universe your daughter was gone. He sighed, seen that you had began to cry, it was obvious that you had not got over his and Gabriella's death like he was. He come over yours and his daughter's death, it took him a while but eventually he understood that no matter what he did, he could never bring you or his daughter back, but he couldn't help but miss the both of you. It was understandable, you were a wife and a mother, who lost both her husband and first baby. And he was a husband and a father that went through the same thing as you. Then he just went for it.
Miguel then pulled you into a tight hug, you didn't hesitate to hug him back. You buried your face onto his chest, crying, letting out all your sadness. You hugged him tightly was your so called Husband rubbed your back comfortingly. Being in his arms, felt like an eternity, you had forgot the last time you were held by him like this. You began to remember the first time you met, it was raining outside one night, and you had forgot to get an umbrella, then you came across Miguel, who was walking somewhere, who knows, but he saw how drenched you were and had offered you his umbrella. You didn't want to take it since you didn't want him to get soaked, but he insisted until you took it. Then he left, that kind gesture meant a lot. Afterwards you had made it your mission to find him and return his umbrella, it was weeks but you finally manage to find him again, in another rainy day, then the rest was history.
Rainy days had become significant to you an Miguel, since you both met on a rainy day. Every time it would rain, you and your husband would go outside to enjoy the rain, not caring that you both would get sick the next day, it was worth it, if it meant being sick together. Then Gabriella came in, she too would also come with you and Miguel out in the rain. "It's okay Mi amor" he said sweetly, but also sadly. You cried more, it's been years since you've been called that by your husband, he wasn't technically your husband, but he was. No matter what universe you were from, you and Miguel would be husband and wife. And Gabriella your daughter, you'd like to think that maybe in a different universe, you were all alive and living a happy life together.
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arlh0e · 3 months
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Hiii if you are actually serious about taking requests then I was wondering if you could do something fluffy based on hozier’s song ‘to someone from a warmer climate’ because as someone from somewhere very alike to Ireland in climate it did something my heart heart the first time I heard it lol. I love how you write Andrew and just how you write tbh if you do end up writing it thanks in advance 💛💛💛
It came easy, darling
This is actually perfect for me right now because it is actually colder where I live than it is in Antarctica right now. Im being so dead ass.
Rating: PG-13 (this is the tamest fic I have ever written)
Warnings: Hozier x gn!reader, fluff, comfort, established relationship, COLD weather, not even attempting at using irish slang cause I’ll fuck it up.
Coming home from work today was an utter nightmare. You could’ve sworn that rain while it was so cold was arguably so much worse than snow or ice.
You had lived here your whole life and yet it never got any easier to live somewhere where it got this cold on a regular basis.
Today though, there was something different about this cold. Usually it was manageable, but today, you had trouble even with your numerous layers, staying warm in the brief periods of time that you were outside. It was the kind of cold that chilled you to the bone.
And what made it worse was the fact that the heater in your car had all but decided to completely shit the bed this morning. By the time you had gotten home, you could have sworn that you were at risk of losing a few toes.
Walking through the door, you were almost immediately greeted with the sound of Andrew upstairs playing with the band. You smiled. His idea to convert one of the extra bedrooms in the house you lived in together into a music room had been a fantastic one. He could work and record from home whenever he wanted. He loved being able to let an idea take him whenever the inspiration struck and having everything he needed in one room in the house made that so much easier for him.
You began peeling off your (now soaked) outer layers to hang them on the coat hooks next to the door. You quickly realized that even though you had been wearing several coats, the rain had soaked through to your shirt. Wonderful.
Still shivering, you made your way upstairs to your bedroom and quickly replaced your wet clothes with dry ones. Sweats and a shirt you had gotten from Andrews side of the closet, which was almost comically large on you.
You were still quite cold, so you grabbed a blanket from the bed and wrapped it around your shoulders before making your way toward where the band was practicing.
You loved watching them play. Specifically, you loved watching Andrew play. It was like his music transformed him, he was passionate and powerful and confident when he was playing. You entered the room quietly and curled up on the small couch Andrew had put in the room, specifically so that you could sit there and watch him if you wanted to.
They were running through a moment silence (common tongue), a song which he had written in one night while sitting next to you after and encounter which at the time he had said was “some of our best work”
You always wondered how he could get up on stage and sing about such things, especially considering that just listening to the things he had written about some of the nights you’d spent together made you incredibly flustered.
You found the whole thing sweet of course. The idea of this man being so entirely enthralled with you that you had inspired a rather large portion of his music over the years was flattering to say the absolute least. You were his muse and he made sure you were all too well aware of his music being about you, even if he was incredibly private about details when it came to his following.
“Love, you’re shivering.” Andrews voice pulled you out of your thoughts. You were so far in thought that you hadn’t even realized how cold you really were.
“Oh, yeah it’s a bit cold out there. I got a little bit wet with the rain, Im okay though.” You shrug a bit.
“No you’re not. Go to bed, turn on a movie, I’ll be there in a a few minutes.” He stands from his stool at the front of the room and sets his guitar down on the stand by the wall.
“It’s fine, I don’t want to interrupt.” You shake your head and move the blanket farther over your shoulders. “I’m okay, really.”
“We were just about done anyways, you’re not interrupting anything, darling.” He chuckles quietly and walks over to take your hands, pulling you to stand in front of him.
He places a soft kiss you your forehead, causing a happy sigh to escape your lips. “Go to bed, I’ll bring you some tea.” You nodded and leaned into his touch. You were still cold, so it didn’t take much for you to give up and do what he asked.
When you got to your bedroom and laid down under the blankets, it was the first time that you fully recognized just how cold you really were. You were violently shivering, teeth chattering, and desperately rubbing your legs together under the covers to try and generate heat.
You moved to pick up the remote from the nightstand next to Andrews side of the bed, turning the tv on. You scroll through Netflix, looking for something to watch for a bit before Andrew came in with two coffee mugs and handed you yours before making his way to the other side of the bed.
He wraps an arm around you and pulls you closer to him so that your head rested against his chest, placing a kiss on the top of your head. “Why don’t we watch that documentary you started the other day?”
You gave him a funny look. “I thought you said you didn’t like watching murder documentaries with me?” You both laughed a little bit as you went back and clicked on the title.
“Yes, I think you’re weird for spending so much time learning about how people get away with murder, your bad list is not a place I would want to end up, however, you’re cold, so I’ll humor you.” He squeezed you a bit tighter for a second, and you started to feel yourself warm up just a bit.
He was always so warm. It was like just radiated heat from his every inch. You always found yourself nuzzling into his heat, but especially at times like this, being so close to him was one of the best feelings. Even when you weren’t saying anything to each other, moments like this were your favorite.
The intimacy between the two of you in moments like this was something that you always craved. The way he absentmindedly drew his fingers through your hair and held you so close to him was something you ached for when he wasn’t around, a privilege that you could never imagine taking for granted.
You found yourself paying more attention to the even sound of his breathing and the fluttering of his heartbeat than what was happening on the screen. You closed your eyes, sighing in content as you listened.
Every part of him was made of music, it seemed. His heartbeat was steady, creating a steady rhythm for the air in his lungs to sing along with. He was magnificent. Everything about him was nothing short of awe inspiring. He was beautiful, perfect even.
I could hear him start to hum a melody that was unfamiliar to me. It was beautiful. It was a soft, soaring melody line that was a little bit higher than his usual range. Nevertheless it was beautiful.
Looking up at his face, he looked completely lost in thought and he hummed the melody. “If you need to go write, its okay. I’m nice and warm now, it’s fine.” You smile up at him lovingly. You simply adored the way his mind worked. The way he could make music out of the simplest of thoughts.
“No, I wanna stay.” He pulled you even tighter to his chest, you were almost impossibly close, but it was in no way uncomfortable. “You help me think.” His face held nothing but pure love and adoration looking back at yours. You didn’t think it was possible to feel this much love for one person, and yet there he was holding your whole heart in the palm of his hands, the same way you held his.
His voice was soft, loving, so incredibly soothing as he sang the words while they passed through is head.
‘The feel of coldness only water brings
There are some things that no one teaches you, love
That come natural as a dream, you didn't know that you were in
And darlin', all my dreamin'
Is only put to shame
And darlin', all my dreamin'
Has only been given a name
it came easy, darlin'
As natural as another leg around you in the bed frame’
You could feel your heart melting at every word. Every time you thought that there was no possible way your love for him could grow, he did something that made you fall endlessly more in love with him. He truly was the only person you could ever see yourself being with.
Loving him was the easiest thing you had ever done, and hearing that he felt the same made your entire being melt into a puddle at his feet. You were putty in his hands. “I love you endlessly, Andrew.” You said it softly, but with so much power. Like if there was one thing in the whole world you could be sure of, it was your love for him, and to an extent that was true.
You loved him recklessly. In a way that was so intense it engulfed your entire being, swallowed you whole.
“I love you, more than anyone has ever loved anyone.”
:) I hipe this was okay, thank you for the request love you <3
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OMG😵‍💫 LITERALLY TRYING TO KILL ME… could u do a 5, 16, and 29 for your kinktober masterlist with sirius and remus… im actually going insane rn but anyways hope ur doing well and remember to take a break🪩 thank youuuu beautiful writer
5: first time   16: threesome   29: anal
my. god. seems like you want to kill me! this is one i'd been thinking about trying for so long actually...
okay, so i started writing it, and was going to write a brief lead up, and ended up writing too much. so. i'm posting that here now as a kind of prologue since i'm itching to get something out there and people seem to prefer shorter bits. then i'll write the proper request tonight and link it here when i post later today or tomorrow
UPDATE: link to the actual smut fic
(thank you for requesting! so so love to hear from you🫶)
so to start:
pre- remus x sirius x reader
word count: 1.4k
Prologue
It was for the best, you’d all decided. 
“We’ll all still be friends no matter who you choose,” they’d both said when months of sexual tension and emotional turmoil had finally climaxed in a conversation. 
Sirius and Remus: your two best friends in the entire world. Jaime, too, but it was different. He’d been quite preoccupied lately since getting together with Lily, and he was the only one you saw in a brotherly way. Sirius and Remus, your two best friends in the entire world… well… your feelings for them were less sisterly. 
And, it so happened, they felt the same. Both of them. 
The attraction, the affection, it had all finally become too much, had begun to strain the friendship. And since protecting the friendship was the purported reason none of you were acting on your feelings, you’d finally had that colossally awkward conversation. 
Their proposal: you choose. That way at least two out of the three of you get what you want, and the other can start trying to get over it; all three of you promise to prioritize your friendship even if it takes some readjustment. 
Your response: you couldn’t. You loved them both too much to hurt either of them or, honestly, to even be able to make the choice. 
So, you’d all agreed, it was for the best if you continued as you were. At least now things were out in the open, relieving some angst, some awkwardness. 
Open conversation had done nothing to relieve your feelings, however, and not just the fluffy ones. Those, at least, you could still indulge with your best friends. You could laugh together and talk and go out and even snuggle up on cold nights. But your lust for your boys you could not indulge, and in the pit of your stomach — and a bit lower — it grew and grew. 
Some nights, it became just a bit too much, and you’d opt for a bit of… personal time. You’d touch yourself to the thought of them; one suddenly swapped for the other in your fantasies then back again and so on, not even your mind ever picking a preference.
You have plans with them later but are at their empty flat quite early. They have more space than you, so it’s not uncommon for you to hang out here without them. They’ve even given you a key. 
James is out with Lily, and Remus and Sirius are out on some errand, hunting for some part for Sirius’s motorbike or something. You hadn’t paid too much attention, to be honest, just knew they’d be home in — you check the clock — a couple of hours. 
Enjoying the peace, you read a while, snuggled up on their sofa, Remus’s big, fluffy blanket too inviting to ignore. You stretch out our legs and hear something fall onto the floor. Looking over, you see you’ve knocked over Sirius’s favourite leather jacket. Picking it up, feeling its familiar texture in your hands, in the privacy of your solitude, you bring it up close and inhale. It smells so distinctly of him, and Sirius’s scent has always intoxicated you. 
At the thought of his arms wrapped around you when he’s wearing this jacket, you get a bit warm. You shift Remus’s blanket partly off of yourself, but rather than cool you down, this gets you thinking about his arms around you the many times you’ve shared this blanket. The way his body feels up against yours. The way he’ll often pull your legs on his lap. The way Sirius will come complaining about him hogging the blanket — and you — and sit on the other side of you, resting his head on your shoulder. His long, raven locks tickling your neck. 
Before you realize you’ve really decided to do this, you’ve slithered your body prone; your hand has slipped into your trousers; your eyes have fluttered closed, and your mind is reeling at the thought of them, one on either side of you, doing more than snuggling.
I can be quick, you think. They’re not meant to be back for ages anyway, and I can’t very well hang out with them when I’m already all flustered.
A minute later, your trousers are partly off, and you’re properly touching yourself, completely absorbed in the textures, the smells, the fantasies of the jacket, the blanket, the boys they belong to, the boys whose bodies you want all over yours, the boys whose key you don’t hear because you’re so caught up.
As the door flies open, so do your eyes, and they meet each of theirs in turn, both sets wide and starting. You yank your pants up and pull yourself together, jumping off the sofa.
A mess, your voice is raspy when you say, “I thought you weren’t going to be home till later.” 
A beat. They’re both still staring at you, their mouths agape, their feet seemingly glued to the entrance.
Then Remus awkwardly clears his throat. 
“Um,” cough, “yeah. Bloke canceled. Didn’t have the part.”
“Were you just touching yourself?” pipes up Sirius before Remus is even through with his short explanation. 
“I…” You’re mortified. “I’m sorry! Fuck. I thought I had the place to myself for a while! Oh my god, I’m so embarrassed.” You cover your burning face with your hands. “Ohmygod ohmygod. Please, is there any chance we can just forget this happened?” you plead. 
“Fat chance,” Sirius barks, and you glare at him. “Okay, okay,” he yields, hands up, “We can pretend.” He smirks.
“Pretend what, arsehole?” you say.
He opens his mouth to respond, but Remus cuts him off, saying “— that we didn’t see anything…” Even he is struggling to choke back a laugh as he pats Sirius on the shoulder and adds, “Right, mate?”
Sirius, sarcastic seriousness smeared across his features, just nods. 
“Oh my god,” you say again, seemingly having forgotten the rest of your vocabulary, shaking your head at the situation and plopping back down onto the sofa, face back in your hands. 
They come over, laughing now but comfortingly, and sit on either side of you. Sirius’s arm comes around you, and Remus’s hands take yours and pull them off your face. Surprising you, Sirius is the first to speak. 
“It’s fine, love,” he chuckles. “Honestly.” He rocks you back and forth a bit. 
“It’s not like either of us haven’t had a wank on this sofa.” 
“On the sofa??” Remus retorts. “Your room is right there for fuck’s sake.” 
“Alright, I stand corrected,” Sirius continues, completely unfazed, “It’s not like either of us haven’t had a wank in this flat.” He laughs again, and Remus scoffs, shaking his head, but can’t help but also chuckle. 
“Okay, okay,” you rush, not wanting to start thinking about them wanking, “Can we please talk about something else before I die of embarrassment?”
They agree and let up, and you turn on the telly, desperate for some distraction. The three of you start watching, and after a few tense minutes, you attempt some casual conversation, asking about their days and such. They answer, but the strange mood never quite seems to dissipate. There’s a charge in the air that mere time is no match for. 
You flip the channel and, to your horror, are met with a couple kissing passionately. You turn it off, much too quickly to be at all subtle. You shift slightly in your seat in between them. They’re both much tenser than usual, keeping more distance than usual but somehow pretending not to with an awkward graze here or there. Sirius is squirmy; Remus is too still. 
“How about some music?” you try, getting up and beelining for their record collection and putting something on. 
Realizing it will be even weirder to sit somewhere else, which you never do, you sit back down between them. 
Except for the music: silence. 
Until Sirius whispers, his voice gruff, “So who were you thinking about?”
Your head whips toward him, and you’re met with an expression you’ll never be able to erase from your mind. His stormy grey eyes are blown almost fully black and slightly hidden under heavy lids. His mouth is slightly open, but at seeing your face, his eyes scanning your features, he bites his lower lip. There’s lust in every feature, certainly, but there’s desperation too.
You turn toward Remus. He looks equally wrecked. 
His eyebrows furrow, and you’re unsure whether that’s meant in question to Sirius’s query. 
You look back and forth between the two men, the air around you heavy and electric. 
“Honestly?”
They both nod. 
“Both of you…” you confess.
continued in this smut fic
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tangerinesilk · 9 months
Text
- I CAN SEE YOU : TANGERINE X FEM!READER
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tangerine is going on a solo mission… well, at least he thinks he is. with lemon missing by his side, he’s left with one other option that is supposed to make his job easier. unfortunately for him, you’re not the easiest to work with. stubborn, strong-minded and feisty. you’re both so alike yet nothing has made your bloods boil more than each other. 
rating ✷ r (18+ minors dni!)
warnings ✷ (very quick) smut: fem receiving, kisses all over bodies, a needy but quick hj, p in v, dirty talk, praising, implied rough (consensual) sex / others: cursing, drinking alcohol, mention and use of guns and violence, male hurting female (?) but not between main characters, mentions of blood and wounds.
tropes ✷ enemies to lovers!!!, person a is all talk no bite + person b knows that but still pushes them, playful banter, hiding together in small spaces, fake dating (?), if one is hurt– the other goes a bit crazy, says ‘i dont care’ then cares 5 seconds later. 
word count ✷ 6k!
songs that fit the vibe ✷ i can see you - taylor swift | moth to a flame - swedish house mafia + the weeknd | king of my heart - taylor swift | attention - charlie puth | nonsense - sabrina carpenter
a/n ✷ so i made a poll a months ago and this trope + pairing won! i’ve honestly been wanting to write a dave lizewski one as well and got a request idea. so.. we will see lmao. i will probably post then maybe edit later if there's still things i don't like... also, if you couldn't tell but im kind of a swiftie so i will love to write fics inspired by whole ass albums y'all.
but i hope this is what u guys expected and wanted. i actually do love writing for tangerine. just gives into my delulu thoughts. also, if you guys would like a plain pwp fic and not all of this fluff and dialogue stuffed inside, pls let me know bc i am definitely into that idea. 🫡
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“You had to go and get yourself shot… then you wonder why you have to wear a bulletproof vest. Fuckin’ hell.” 
Tangerine kept his voice at a hushed tone, basically talking under his breath as he strutted through the grand hall of the hotel. Golden light glossed over his figure, passing by couples who were at standing tables with their cocktails.
“Well, Thomas said-”
“Thomas didn’t say shit. Don’t get me fuckin’ started now.”
Lemon already knew Tan was in a bad mood. Another Thomas the Tank Engine factoid wasn’t a playful move right now.
“Hey, mate. Don’t get all fussy wit’ me. You’re just mad about your new partner for the night.” Lemon rolled his eyes.
“Can’t believe I can’t be held accountable of myself. I can handle it on my own but you had to call the fuckin’ princess-” 
“She’s good. Your denial is obnoxious, bruv. It’s only a night, you get in and get out.” Lemon replied, holding his wounded side as he laid in his bed back in England, “What happened between you two that you’ve got beef like this?”
“No time to explain nor do I have the patience.” He arrived at the small bar to the side of the room, “If I leave her behind, can I take half the pay that’s supposed to be hers?” Tangerine asked.
“She’s supposed to be wearing a red dress. You’ll see her there… and please don’t cause a scene.” His brother begged.
“No promises.” He replied before hanging up. 
Tangerine blows a sigh past his lips, quickly asking for his drink of choice before scanning the mass of people around him. His blue eyes could only search so fast for the man that the hit was called on, causing him an instant frustration when he’s already worried about you ruining things regardless of how long you’re together.
“He’s next to the woman in the tacky gold ballgown… about two feet away from the ice sculpture.” Your soft voice suddenly spoke next to him, “But, I didn’t need to tell you that, right?”
The smirk on your face burned at his nerves and you noticed the clench in his jaw.
“Well, if it isn’t the fuckin’ Queen herself.” He said in a stern tone, “What? Germany was too borin’ for ya? Had to figure out a way to ruin someone’s operation?”
“Lemon is the one who called me in, and it isn’t about you. It’s about the pay out… you’re bound to screw something up with your ‘shoot first, ask questions later’ tactic.” You trailed, rolling your eyes as you turned your head away.
“And I’m certainly not afraid to use that tonight and not your fucked up, painfully long mind games like some fuckin’ psycho thilling killer.” He spat as his drink was place in front of him.
You narrowed your eyes at him, “Fuck you.”
“Darling, I’m flattered, but we have more important things to do right now.” He lowly groaned, purposefully looking at his target so his back was facing toward you.
Behind his tall stature, you glimpsed past his shoulder and saw your target chatting up a woman. 
He won’t be smiling for long, you thought.
“Alright, I’ll wait for him to slip away, follow him and you go through the kitchen.” Tangerine said under his breath, keeping quiet for only you to hear him.
“To go where?” You ask, walking around him to stand face to face.
“Erm…” He sighed, “Whatever car or vehicle you got here in, drive yourself back to whatever place you’re staying and I’ll figure out how to wire you the money.” He shrugged, downing the rest of his drink.
He took a step but you placed your hand on the center of his chest, “Not so fast. I’m not going down if you make a mess of this.”
“I don’t make messes. Well, actually, I get away with them once I’ve done ‘em so, I don’t need to worry about a liability.” Tangerine smirked, a bit of a tilt to his head. Cheeky bastard.
“The only liability here is the one who is ready to pull the trigger in his back.” You said before huffing, “I’m not sorry for what happened in Paris, but that was my choice. So, I’m going with you because it’s our operation. You know… I don’t need a fucking helping hand either.” You practically growled.
The two of you held a long gaze, creating a tense eye contact before he sighed, “Didn’t even say anythin’ about Paris, but if you’d like to assume I’m still mad ‘bout that, be my guest, princess.”
His shoulder bumped yours, making you clench your jaw before quickly following behind his tall stature. While he seemed persistent, you grabbed his hand which made him stop in his tracks in the middle of the dance floor.
He turned, “Am I your babysitter?”
“No, you’re my date. Hold my hand, you idiot.” Your eyes pierced through his.
As he looked down at your hand, he slowly grasped it, your fingers intertwining with one another’s before he proceeded through the glamorous crowd.
Couples swayed and waltzed between each step you took, assuming you were unnoticed by your target. Tangerine kept his eyes on him, easy to with the frosty-white full head of hair he had slicked back. The woman in the tacky dress ran her hand down his shoulder, pressing her lips to his ear to whisper something which made you and Tangerine veer to the side at a standing table.
“Are they movin’?” He asked, facing his back toward them.
Your eyes smoothly shift, taking a quick glance at the assumed couple. You ran your hand down Tangerine’s arm, accidentally feeling how toned his bicep was through the thick fabric of his suit jacket. You almost glanced down, wanting to give another squeeze before clearing your throat. A heat rose on your cheeks as you turned your head to face away from him.
“Y-Yeah, near the bathroom. There’s also a backdoor that leads up to the second floor… lots of private rooms for reasons that are obvious.” You said in a hushed tone, moving away from him to the other side of the table.
“Alright, since you wanna tag along, I’ll follow them and you cover the door.” Tangerine suggested once again.
You furrowed your eyebrows, “You do understand what teamwork is, yes?”
He chuckled, “Yes, I go up there, shoot a few rounds, then we make a getaway.”
“Will you just trust me?”
“Your trust means nothing… I need to know you’re not going to fuck anything up. Just like in Paris.”
You smirked, “So you do have that against me.”
“Well, it’s not like it was your best. Leave me with a shot in the arm, Lemon on the ground and you, little miss greed, get away with your cash. If we all did this job for money, we wouldn’t be riskin’ our lives just runnin’ around killin’ or resucin’ people just for someone’s dime. You obviously do though.”
You narrowed your eyes, “You don’t know me…”
“Nor do you know me so…” He huffed, “Let’s just do what we have to do.”
There was tension between you, as if there was more fo a protective instinct than hate toward one another. You couldn't figure out Tangerine’s deal. Why was he so hostile toward you? Yes, what happened in Paris was fucked up, but he wasn’t the type to hold a grudge. He didn’t take shit from anyone, so why were you getting under his skin?
“Shit!” He grunted under his breath, seeing your target disappear into the hall.
The two of you hurry, yet still try to act casual to not raise eyebrows, and exit into the same hallway. As you push open the door, you hear the two talking in the stairwell before another door closes.
“You got your gun on you?” He asked as his hand slid into the back of his pants.
“Of course.” You scoffed, tearing up the slit in your dress. He saw the small pistol strapped to your thigh, making his mouth a bit dry.
He nodded, “Good…” 
Taking a quick breath, Tangerine opened the door. You slipped through and he followed behind, your backs facing one another as you scanned the hallway. It wasn’t narrow but if anyone slipped out of one of the rooms, they were right in your sights.
“I’ll take this one, you take that one.” He whispered, pointing his gun to the opposite door of his.
With your heart in your throat, you slowly crack the door open and don’t see anyone before a body flies from behind and slammed the door open from Tangerine’s side. The woman lied dead on the floor, blood all over his dress, and just as you turned around, a punch slid across your cheek. 
Instinctively, you ducked to dodge the second jab and swoop under to get on the other side of the man as Tangerine wrapped his arms around the guy to pull him to the ground.
Tan loudly grunted as he tried to gain control, basically attempting to straddle him in order to push his arm against his neck. Even with all his strength, the man gripped his hands around Tangerine’s arms to throw him off along with trying to push his knee between his crotch.
“Watch the door!” Tan directed to you. 
You nodded, catching your breath with your back against the wall by the door. The adrenaline ran through your veins and heard your heartbeat in your ears as one tear of blood dripped down your cheek. The crack of bones made you turn your head, seeing the man’s body go limp as Tan began to stand over him.
He quickly walked over the man, as if he was in the way, and comes to your side.
“He nicked you bad. Lemme see.” Tan said, your eyes meeting his as he held your cheek. The touch of his hand seemed to be some comfort, his thumb wiping the blood away and trying to see how bad the wound was.
“Bastard.” He muttered, “C’mon, let’s go before someone comes up.”
Without a word in, he grabbed your hand and dragged you behind his lead. You two headed for the exit door down the other side of the hall as you heard footsteps rumble from the other stairs you came up.
“Wait a minute.” Tan said, fiddling with his belt buckle.
Your eyes widen, “What on earth are you doing?”
He smirked, “Relax, darling. You flatter yourself too much.”
You rolled your eyes as the sound of his belt slid against the fabric of his belt loops before curling the leather strap around the door to keep it locked. The two of you fled down the stairs and suddenly found yourselves in the kitchen area. A few eyes followed as you both ran through, very obvious that you were running from something, but still aimed to get to some kind of exit.
With sudden luck, Tangerine saw his car across the street, instantly knowing which way he was supposed to go. Without skipping a beat, he grabbed your hand once more and the two of you ran across the street. Hopping into the passenger seat and Tan taking off was like a blur, just happening in seconds.
“Y/N?” Tan saying your name woke you from your trance.
“Huh?” You asked, shaking your head.
He quickly turned his head, “You alright?” He said with concern, one hand on the steering wheel and his foot easing off the gas.
“Y-Yeah, I’m okay. I don’t know what happened back there.” You trailed, a bit embarrassed. You were never one to let your guard down, well– enough to get hit right smack in the face.
“Are you sure?”
You turned your attention to him, “I’m fine, why wouldn’t I be?” You asked rhetorically.
“‘Cause of that big cut on your cheek.”
You narrowed your eyes, “Alright, what’s your big plan now, Einstein? Were just going to sleep in your car and hope we don’t wake up decapitated?”
He half-chuckled, “You truly think so little of me, don’t you?”
“Is that rhetorical?”
Tan rolled his blue eyes, “We’re goin’ somewhere safe.”
– – –
You wanted to believe you were strolling into some kind of trap. The lobby had a classic aesthetic to it, pale gold wallpaper and a wall of keys behind the person at the small front desk. You two placed your go-bags on the red carpeted ground as Tangerine checked into a room.
“Hello Mr. Tangerine.”
Oh, great. He’s some guest of honor here.
“‘Ello, Colin. My usual room.”
“Is that what you say in front of all the girls?” You tilted your head, standing behind him.
He rolled his eyes, “‘Cuse her.”
The man chuckled, crinkles by his eyes, “How many nights are you staying this time?”
This time. You could scoff out loud but you didn’t want to hear the tude from him.
“Just overnight. Nothin’ too serious.”
“Well, enjoy your stay, as always.” The man nodded before Tangerine thanked him.
The two of you head toward the old elevator, watching him quickly press the up button before you stand by his side. You half chuckled, “I’ve never seen you act so kindly toward anyone, tell me, does he see you bring girls through here all the time or-”
“Has anyone ever told you to shut your pie hole?”
“Hmm, not verbally. But, those eyes of your say enough for me… you’re too predictable, sometimes, Tan.”
He gave you a lingering look as the door opened, passing him into the elevator. The two of you make your way to the fifth floor and the hall is eerily quite for a hotel full of private contractors and assassins. You had your hands behind your back then patiently waited for Tangerine to jiggle the key into the lock, opening a door to a huge room with a surprisingly wide view.
“You’d think the curtains were closed.” You muttered as he walked over, closing them anyways.
Suddenly, he stripped from his suit jacket and you couldn’t help but see how tight his button up was around his biceps and chest.
“Did you get that a size too small?” You ask as you chunk your heels into the corner.
“Well, I certainly can’t kill fuckin’ bloaks wearing baggy clothes now.”
“But, you can in a three piece suit?” You cocked your eyebrow.
He licked his lips, “As if your dress is a flexible material.” Tangerine said as he pulled his rings off, placing them on the night stand.
“I can say the same for your pants.”
Tangerine wanted to look down but didn’t give into your comment. You place your bag down on the bed, grabbing your silk pajamas nearly folded on top and changed in the bathroom.
“God, just go to bed. We’ve got a long day tomorrow.” You somewhat groaned.
You sit on the top of the bed, unfolding the duvet before shoving it off to get underneath them.
Tangerine paused, “What the fuck do you you’re doin’?”
You furrowed your eyebrow, “This thing called going to sleep. Try it sometime, you’d be less grouchy.”
He rolled his eyes, “I know that, smartass, I mean what’re you doin’ in the bed that I’m goin’ to be sleepin’ in too?”
You rolled over, putting your weight on your elbows, “I know you’re dramatic but this takes the cake for top performances.”
He faked a laugh, “If you don’t get your ass out of that bed in two seconds, I’ll throw you in the tub with a pillow.”
“Oh, wouldn’t you like to. Fine, do it.” You said before laying flat into the mattress, staring straight at the ceiling.
He didn’t care for your equal amount of sarcasm, but he just gave you a cocked eyebrow.
“Okay, fine. I’d rather sleep on the floor anyways.” He said, stretching his arms up and behind his head. Your eyes quickly admired his muscles before turning back.
“Be my guest, princess.” You scoffed, slipping on your pajama shorts, “I’ll enjoy my big comfy bed.”
You pulled the heavy duvet over your waist, curling up with the dense pillow beneath your head. 
Tangerine stood there, biting the inside of his cheek as he watched you roll on your side. He tilted his head back before unbuttoning his shirt and tossing it on the desk chair. Although your eyes were closed, his side of the bed sunk in and you tried to hold back your smile at his faded stubbornness.
With your backs facing one another, you two just listened to the silence of the city. It gave you a moment to think of Paris– the last time you were with one another or much rather supposed to be against each other. You were a double agent, not exactly proud of it but you let greed take over your motivated justice. 
Having to scam Lemon and Tangerine wasn’t your finest hour either, you thought about it for months and finally coming face to face with Tangerine (out of the two, he wasn’t the one you would want to bump into again), all the guilt came rushing back like the snap of an elastic band.
– – –
The morning sun runs through the thin silk of the curtains, shining over your bodies in the bed. You wake up to the sound of light snoring, happy that you could sleep through it, and Tangerine in a deep slumber with his arm over the bed. He suddenly looked like innocence, so soft and tender, simply laying there like it was any other day.
You sit up, putting your hair out of your face then head to the bathroom. When you turn the light on, you’re almost surprised to see your reflection. Forgetting about the scar against your cheek, you look more rough around the edges. You sigh as you run your fingers over it, remembering the way Tangerine did last night.
After washing up, you go back out and Tangerine is now standing up and stretching his arms above his head. Your eyes quickly shift up his body, admiring the tattoos in their random places and how the band of his briefs rest on his hips. You sealed your lips from smiling at how sharp his v-line was accompanied by the happy trail disappearing into his pants.
“Sleep good with that stick in your ass?” You retort, passing him.
He rolled his eyes, “...You’re annoying, ya know that?”
“Oh, you’ve made that clear.” You mocked him as you closed the curtains more, “That’s why I love to do it.”
Tangerine flicked on the lamp, giving the room a warm glow.
“Alright, I say we lay low today. Better to be out of sight and–”
You cut him off, “Stuck in this room together?... are you trying to kill me t–”
He then put his hand over your mouth, looking deep into your eyes, “Yes, stuck in this room where we can keep an eye on each other and you can’t screw me over again.”
Your heart stopped for a split second, as if he couldn’t have been more of the controlling one. He took his hand away and you gulped, “Yep. Fine. Fair.”
Tangerine pressed his tongue against the inside of his cheek before you go to your bag in the chair that’s pushed in the corner of the room. You slightly bend over to look inside your duffle and his icy eyes can’t help but look up the back of your thighs and straight at your ass and lower back. How he could easily put his hands on your hips and make you hold onto something.
He shook his head, feeling like he was coming down with something to even imagine that thought.
You pulled out an old novel and sat yourself back on the bed, hoping that the hours would pass as you sank further into the broken-in mattress.
Tangerine sat down in the chair nudged into the corner, adjacent from your view, and he pulled out his gun that was conveniently tucked into the back of his pants.
“Are you actually holding me hostage?” You furrowed your brows, but didn’t take your eyes from your sentence.
“Whatever fantasy you’d like you believe.” He trailed, opening his gun and emptying his rounds into his palm.
– – –
Suddenly, you leaped out of a deep sleep. Your book laid open on your stomach while an extra pillow was between your legs. Your eyes fluttered open, thinking the past few days has been a dream, until you noticed Tangerine wasn’t sitting in the chair. You quickly looked around before hearing the bathroom door open and he stepped out, shirtless and in new dark slacks that rested on his hips.
Your mouth became dry. How could you dislike him so much yet here you are, ready to jump his bones as he crossed the room.
“What are you getting dressed for?” You asked, rubbing your eyes.
He half-chuckled at your groggy voice, “I want a drink.”
“Oh, like you’re not just going to abandon me here like I did you?... Where you go, I go.” You warned him.
He rolled his eyes, “Don’t be so dramatic.”
“A bit hypocritical coming from you.”
Tangerine just ignored your smart comment and opened the door, letting you through first before he followed. His eyes, once again, trace your lower back and trailed down your legs. His cheeks flushed pink as he quickly looked away, clearing his throat as he caught up to you so you two were walking side by side.
You pushed the faded down button as you pushed a big breath past your lips. Tangerine put his back against the wall and crossed his arms, his muscles basically restraining in his light button up. As you turned around, you rolled your eyes– but not at him, just at yourself. How could you have any little feeling for someone who also annoyed you to your core?
He took your silence as a bit of a tease. To be fair, you two didn’t really know one another. You met once before and then you simply betrayed him. Quickly, you were dead to him, but now you’re forced to be together and it raised an important question to himself too. Why was he helping someone who obviously can’t be trusted? 
Tangerine furrowed his eyebrows at that thought, knowing he would have thrown you to the wolves last night after you closed your eyes. He played with his watch a bit before the elevator dinged and caught both of your attentions.
After entering, the low-sounding shifting mechanics of the elevator were the only sounds between you two. You heard Tangerine sniffle, seeing him stretch his neck out of the corner of your eye, but you kept a straight view to the doors. While Tangerine thought you were continuing to give him the silent treatment, you were lost in your own thoughts of the past.
You flashbacked to your last night in Paris together, and remembered how the guilt creeped up on you knowing that, in a few hours, you’d have to betray both Lemon and Tangerine. Before knowing them, you didn’t care, but now that you’ve realized how hard you were falling for Tan, it felt like a double edged sword. If you didn’t do it, maybe you could stay with him– have a life together. But, if you went through with your selfish heist, you’d lose the guy who made you comfortable with being vulnerable after a long time. 
Obviously, you regretted your decision.
“Is this what you want?” You simply asked.
Tangerine quickly turned his head, “What?”
You rolled your eyes before facing his direction, “This.” You gestured between the two of you, “The weird animosity and constantly arguing and nit-picking?”
He never thought you’d be so bold to point it out, “I mean, we don’t like each other. Simple, isn’t it?”
“I guess…” You trailed, facing back toward the doors.
Tangerine licked his lips, wondering if he should utter the words on his tongue.
“...But, that doesn’t mean we can’t start over.”
You looked over your shoulder once more before turning around to him, “You mean that?”
He arched his eyebrow, “Should I regret it now?”
Just as the elevator dinged, the doors slowly opened and the hotel lobby appeared empty. You smirked to yourself, “Why don’t we catch up over that drink, huh?” You sort of teased– not sure if it had purpose.
– – –
Your drink tasted smooth, easily trailing down your throat as you leaned your head back to finish off the rest of the liquor in your glass. Once you tilted your head back straight, you were met with Tangerine’s signature eyebrow arch.
“Don’t worry, I’m paying for my own drinks.” You sighed, placing your glass back down on the wooden table top.
“As long as I don’t got to carry you back up to the room.” He sighed, sounding more defeated than witty, then his blue eyes glanced down then back into your eyes.
You hummed, running your finger along the rim of the empty glass. 
“‘right so, what’ve you been doin’ since we last…” He cleared his throat, “saw one other?”
You crossed your leg over the other, “Not much. Actually, it’s the first time I’ve been out for a while. After leaving you guys, I laid low in Tuscany.”
“For how long?”
You shrugged, “Five months? I was on the countryside and I wanted to be alone…” then, you smirked, “I heard that you were in Kyoto.” 
Tangerine could chuckle about it now, “For a bit. Had a job to do for some psychotic, fucked up family. The dad called in us, they were all turin’ on each other. Whole fuckin’ thing…”
“As in…” You trailed, “Against one another? The whole family?”
He just nodded before taking a sip of his drink.
You raised your eyebrows, “Wow… and you got out with no bruises or cuts? Bullet holes?”
Tangerine licked his lips before he presented the side of his neck, lighter skin over his tanner tone to show the scar. You carefully reached out, brushing your fingers against it which made a tingle go up his spine. You sit back down as he turned back in his chair, and he seemed to tense up.
“Amazing you survived it.” You sealed your lips.
He crossed his arms, “I supposed…”
A comfortable silent fell between you, the light, jazz music playing at a low, and Tangerine’s eyes trailed up the side of your bare leg. He didn’t mean to stare this much, but he felt more vulnerable than usual. One thing you knew is that Tangerine was a layered person, you had to take time to get to the center of him and realize he’s not so cold once you get to know him.
“Five months in Tuscany, I bet that was lovely.”
“Not really. I isolated the whole time… I wanted to be by myself, but I felt bad about what happened… what I did in Paris.” You admitted, but didn’t look into his eyes, fearing that he would turn on you in a second.
Tangerine sighed, “You had to do your job, we did ours… that’s ‘bout all that can be said.” 
Assuming from the lack of eye contact and his tone, he seemed hurt too. You could easily let it boost your ego, but, you actually felt a relief. This hatred you’ve held against each other has finally come down and even though it wasn’t actually said, both of you can feel hostility leave the room.
You bit the inside of your cheek, “Remember, we’re starting over. Clean slate. I hope I’m making a good impression so far.” You raised your eyebrows, lifting your glass again just to drink the mixture of watered down liquor. 
He chuckled, “You’re just lovely.”
The comment made your face get hot. You blame the accent and how it can just get under your skin.
“I don’t think you’ve ever called me something so nice.”
Tangerine smirked, “Funny since we’ve just met, darling.”
Darling.
It was the first time you heard it as a term of endearment then pure spite.
You rolled your eyes, but you could humor that Tangerine was going along with it. This new cheeky side of him was something you didn’t think existed– maybe it was the liquor talking, but you hoped it wasn’t just that simple.
“So, what brings you here?” You continued to tease, placing your elbows on the table, “Business… or pleasure?” Your hand laid on top of his, brushing your fingertips along the chunky rings that perfectly fit his fingers.
Multiples thoughts sounded through both your minds.
“Maybe it’s the liquor.” “Maybe we’re a little over our heads.” “Maybe we’re bored.”
But, Tangerine held your hand on top of the table, gently holding it as his thumb grazes over your knuckles.
“Depends…” He trailed, now leaning in too, “What are you here for?”
– – –
In just a few minutes, you two were back in the room you felt trapped in for hours.
Tangerine pressed your back against the wall, a tingle running up your spine from the coolness of the wallpaper. Your lips pressed together over and over, tilting your head before biting his bottom lip. He effortlessly lifted you up with his hand under the back of your thighs, and your ankles meet around his back.
He needed so bad, desperate even… and the feeling was mutual.
He put you down on your feet again, pressing a kiss against your scarred cheek then another on your jaw. His light kisses run down the middle of your breasts as his hand lifted up the end of your skirt. You pushed your hips out as your back was against the wall still, watching him pull down your panties in an instant. You kick them to the side and Tangerine placed your leg over his shoulder, kisses along your inner thigh and your hand ran through the front of his curls.
Suddenly, his tongue ran over your swollen clit before sucking on it. With one hand in his hair, the other caressing your breast and running your thumb over your nipple.
Tangerine panted, moving his hand against your pussy lips. He pushed them apart, showing your tight hole and how you clench around nothing. He lowly groaned, running his fingers over your clit before sliding his two fingers into your pussy. You bite your bottom lip to hold back the moan stuck in your throat, watching him suck your clit and finger you at the same time.
Just as your climax neared, he felt your cunt tighten around his fingers. He couldn’t end it like this so, he took them away. You let your leg down, watching him come back up and tower over you.
“If I’m goin’ to make you cum…” He sighed, “I’m gonna be deep inside you when you fucking crumble.” He said so low before pressing his fingers against your tongue, and you tasted yourself.
You pulled his hand back, running your thumbs over his tattooed hand.
“Not if I make you cum first.” You trailed, moving his hand down so you could kiss him.
He could drop to his knees in an instant, but Tangerine surprisingly kept his composure. 
You smirked as you pushed him toward the bed, the back of his knees hitting it to make him sit down. As you stood in front of him, he leaned on his elbows as he watched your dress drop to the floor. It pooled at your ankles and when his eyes shifted back up, so glossed over, your bare body was the center of his attention.
“Hmm, I don’t think you’ll last.” You taunted.
As much as he could snap back, you straddled him and pulled apart his tightly buttoned shirt. Your hands ran over his toned and tatted chest before reaching down to his pants, unzipping the fly and he shuffled a bit to shift them off his hips. His cock was hard, restrained from his boxers and you felt flattered.
You giggled, leaning forward to share a slow kiss with him. Your bare pussy rubbed against his cock as you moved closer to him. A low groan mumbled between your makeout, and you pushed him back so you two both fell on the bed.
Your hands pressed into each side of the mattress, gaining strength to help yourself grind against his hard. His big hands tightly held your hips as you continued your smooth momentum, whimpering at your clit being rubbed by your harsh grind.
As heat rose in the room, your right hand dipped between the two of you, and ran over his hard cock once more. Tan’s lips now desperately met your jaw before taking a light bite at your neck. The feeling of your hand caressing through his boxers could make him release right there.
Becoming more impatient, you finally pushed your hand into the band of his boxers and he once more moved his hips to shift out of them. 
“Fuck, your cock is so big… can barely hold it with my hand. God, I want you to stretch me out…” You moaned, “Is that okay?”
You purposefully let him believe that he was in charge, and you were falling into the submissive role. Tangerine gained a bit of confidence from your desperate comments, and he sat more up on the bed.
“Fucking christ…” Is all he could say.
He moved the swollen and red tip against your wet slit, also aching and needing your walls to wrap around him now. At first there was pressure, pushing the tip inside your hole then slowly guiding your hips down to completely take in every inch of his cock. 
Once he bottomed out, your body lightly shook as your lips brushed against his. He was fully inside you, the tight and warm feeling making him wither beneath you.
Tangerine moved his hand, kissing your shoulder, “God, you feel like fuckin’ heaven.”
“Don’t stop. Please…” You huffed.
– – –
Then, it was morning. 
The rising sun peaked through the small split of the curtains. As you tried to shift, your body ached throughout every muscle. A small groan left your lips, but you were pulled back by a strong arm wrapped around your waist.
It snapped you back into reality. Last night really happened… and you were okay with that.
Tangerine’s tattooed arm unconsciously tightened around you, holding you close still as he still slept behind you. You barely look over your shoulder and saw his face, his eyes still shut and his curls looked wild.
You faintly smile as you turn around to face him, and that’s what woke him up. He pulled his arms back and rubbed his eyes from the brightness of the sun coming in. You run your finger along a curl on his forehead, pushing it to the top of his head and your heart melted from the sight of those blue eyes.
“Did last night really happen?” You mumbled, but with a faint smile on your lips.
He placed his hand gently on your cheek, caressing his thumb against your jaw. 
“I think the real question is…” He trailed, “Do we stay another night or go back to pretending to not know each other's existences?”
You bit your bottom lip, lightly giggling, “I think we pick secret option three and go somewhere else. Get away for a while… see where this is going. Don’t you?”
Just at that moment, Tangerine’s phone vibrated in his pants that were on the floor next to the bed. He turned over on his other side, reaching down to pull it out and reading a text Lemon just sent.
“Got a call about a job in Budapest. Are you in or overstaying your weekend?”
Tangerine smirked at himself, then felt your lips press against his neck. You placed another kiss on his shoulder, leaving a tender love bite before he turned back around to kiss you. Maybe it was the natural thrill of the chase, but you loved the not knowing. 
Whatever was next, you could only hope that he kept it interesting.
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devilmademewriteit · 1 year
Note
completely inspired by a gif set u reblogged. Javi helping you into a bullet proof/tactical vest. you’re scared and he just says a gentle “arms up” as he secures the velcro. he’s scared as well, doesn’t wanna lose you, doesn’t want you to get hurt. but it’s like the fear, the adrenaline, has your emotions haywire and you look into his eyes as he takes hold of your hand so gently and tells you that you’re gonna be okay, and you just want to kiss him, and he wants to kiss you too, but then it’s time to go, and he tells you “later”
IDK WHAT THIS IS LMFAO Javi brings the slut outta me
you’ve inspired me anon here is a TINY FIC/DRABBLE YEEEEEEEE
pairing: javier peña x fem!afab!reader
warnings: fem!afab!reader; use of pet name ‘sweetheart’; canon-typical allusions to violence; language; ANGSTY POO
omg I can’t believe there’s no smut. GUYS I WROTE SOMETHING WITHOUT SMUT. I loooove writing my javi tho so while im busting my ass working on Salvatore part 3 feel so free to leave me lil thingies like this.
-em<3
“Hope is a dangerous thing for a woman like me to have, but—”
It was never supposed to be like this.
It was just a summer job — something safe, boring, admin and agendas and addendums. Should’ve known better, taking a government job in the world’s most dangerous city.
She should’ve known better, taking a government job in the world’s most dangerous city. Shit. My chest feels like it’s on fire, burnin’ through kerosene.
Is she gonna clock how unsteady I am?
Javi’s footsteps echo down the nearby hallway; you recognize them immediately, and their slanted, hard-right-drag-left rhythm. He comes lumbering through the door, cradling tactical gear between his big, bulging biceps. God, you’d had… thoughts about those biceps.
Even now, with the embassy under cartel-siege, it’s oh-so-hard to push away the x-rated daydreams swirling inside your stress-addled mind.
And he doesn’t look scared.
Fuck, she looks so scared.
“Here,” he says, extending the protective vest towards you. Gingerly peeling your hips off of the desk at your back, you extend your fingers to greet and grab at the rough, thick canvas. The sheer weight of it makes your heart lurch into your throat. Neither one of you lowers your hands.
The dark-green-death-sweater you’d seen him wear so many times, cursing yourself for registering, for caring about what it meant.
That it meant Peña — schmoozing, cocky, effortlessly crude Javier Peña — was going into the field.
So neither of you let go.
The stupid vest had always served as a kind of divining rod, leading you both to the real source of your constant bickering, your irritation and the look of mutual, unabashed worry you had shared as a soldier came bursting into the office, panting in tune with the sirens, carrying news of the currently unfolding attack.
Caring without meaning to.
Giving a shit without wanting to.
“I-“ you swallow, trailing off, cursing the swelling bubble forming at neck-breaking speed inside your throat, “I don’t know what to do with this.”
Of course she doesn’t. That one’s on me. ‘Thing like her should never have to wear one of these.
Shouldn’t even have to see one of these.
“S’okay,” he mutters, taking the burden of the gear into his hands, brow furrowing into a look of delicate responsibility. “Turn around.”
Under different circumstances, those words might’ve (embarrassingly enough) enticed a very different feeling from you.
Now, they were simply effective.
Acceding, you rotate, painfully slowly as every hair along your spine lifts, one after the other. Peña shuffles, adjusting both himself and the gear to stand close — too close — behind you.
“Arms up, sweetheart.”
You listen, dragging your arms up into the static air, trying to ignore the soft edge in his voice. It reminds you of something.
Something like resistance.
Stifled want.
Desire with a sock shoved down its bone-dry throat.
And it’s so level, so calm. How is he so calm?
Can she tell I’m totally freaking out?
Your shoulders sag under the weight of the vest. Jesus. It’s so much heavier than you’d imagined. Not quite as heavy as the feeling of doom settling over you, grief from the naive sense of safety you’d walked into work with.
Just this morning.
Javi busies himself with the Velcro, uncharacteristically silent. His knuckles brush the insides of your wrists, and you try to resist it — God, you really do — but all efforts to keep those prickling tears at bay are undertaken in vain.
You quiver slightly, face burning in shame.
Is she shaking?
Gentle, unusually gentle when his fingers wrap around your upper arm, spinning you around to face him once more.
“Look at me.”
You do. His shadowed eyes swim, dance, rage with experience, and you’re left envious, wishing that you’d hardened yourself to the world in the same way. How many times had this man woken up, driven to work, drunk his morning coffee and smoked his morning smoke, accepting that it could be his last?
Knowing Peña, he probably found ways not to think about it.
For sure, he didn’t think about it.
But you did.
Every time that vest came out.
“Everything’s gonna be fine, alright?”
It’s an almost whisper, a mere brush of air against your brow. His own creases in earnestness as he utters the pledge.
“How can you do this for a living?”
You don’t mean for it to come out so rough and jagged, hissing for help like a neglected kettle on the stove. Javi offers you a smile of understanding as though remembering his own first time.
Then, before either of you can stop it, he places the flat of his palm to your cheek.
And you can’t keep from noticing how easily the calloused pad of his thumb molds to your complying skin.
“You get used to it,” he returns, and every word is coated, soaked in the sad, tragic truth. “Though this part’s always hard.”
Nothing exists beyond the smell of tobacco on his breath and the total absorption in his eyes. You’re sure the latter is mirrored in your own, too.
Timid, uneasy, begging him to ease the discomfort for you. “What part is this?”
The part where I lie to you. The part where I bubble-wrap the only thing in this country worth protecting into a shitty, almost useless accessory of war.
The part where I remember—
Is it the part where we remember how easily we could lose each other?
And we don’t even have each other, for God’s sake. Lookin’ up at me as if she can trust me, and the only thing I’ve been able to trust for years is that the moment will come, that moment where it all just gets to be too much and fuck—is this it? Maybe—
This is the part where we—
Kiss her, God, I just wanna fuckin’ kiss her—
Kiss?
“Peña! Time to move!”
Murphy’s voice slices — easily — through the tentative moment of uncertainty. It erodes the softness of Javi’s features into that familiar, hardened stone.
His hand drops from your face, but the tracings linger.
If you couldn’t trust the world outside, maybe you could trust Javi inside. Maybe he’d learned to live without something to lean on, but you weren’t yet prepared to go on—
She doesn’t know how much I fuckin’ need her. Or how many times I’ve tried to say it—and in so many ways—but every time I open my goddamn mouth it just comes out… wrong. Like it’s not enough. Like it’s not true that I can finally fuckin’ breathe when she’s… just… existing around me. Like losing her wouldn’t mean goin’ on—
Faithlessly. Radically accepting the confusing, overwhelming uncertainty of the world.
He clears his throat.
“I’ll see you after.”
Your gaze tumbles down, averting the twinge of dishonesty in his own at his promise.
“Yeah—yeah, see you after.”
He backs away without turning. For a moment, you think he’s gearing up to say something. Something like he always says, like, don’t be a fuckin’ idiot, or use your head or maybe even a smile, sweetheart.
But he doesn’t. He just shakes his head, his dark hair tumbling around and exaggerating his hesitation. Although it hurts, you force yourself to watch as he walks away. How he bows his crown, brings a hand up to anxiously rub at the side of his jaw, the roundness of his shoulder responding and near-bulging under the blue cotton.
Admittedly, a kiss from Javier Peña would’ve been nice.
But to be cradled between those arms, wrapped up in him instead of the goddamn tactical gear squeezing, robbing the air from your lungs…
That would’ve been it.
When this is all over, you think to yourself.
And as Javi greets Steve, apologizing for the delay, the hand squeezing his gun feels strangely empty, haunted by the novelty of touching your burning skin.
When this is all over, he thinks to himself.
Anyways, isn’t that what faith is? Making plans for later, as if anyone’s ‘later’ is promised, a guarantee? As if either of you could count on tomorrow?
Yeah, that’s gotta be it.
Joining the gaggle of scared, hopeless government employees, desperate for reassurance, for the realization blooming inside the depths of your knowing; you pause, letting it hit you, translating it into words…
“—I have it.”
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lewkwoodnco · 25 days
Note
Can I make you a request about Anthony Lockwood based on the song “So American” by Olivia Rodrigo🥺😭
so american! - Lockwood x Reader
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when he laughs at all my jokes and he says I’m so american oh god it’s just not fair of him to make me feel this much I’d go anywhere he goes when he says I’m so american oh god I’m gonna marry him if he keeps this shit up i might just be in la la la la la la la la la love
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a/n: this fic has been rattling around in my head for a couple of weeks now and I was soooo double minded abt writing it so THANK YOU for the ask!!!!!! might not have written it otherwise heheh also I’m sooo proud of how my gifs turned out it was so fun to colour them all guts themed 😍😍 I hope you enjoy!! <333 also im having issues w the keep reading button AGAIN so sorry :(((
warnings/tropes: lockwood and reader are already in an established relationship, fluffy fluff, veeerrry small sprinkling of angst but happy ending! domestic sweetness
word count: 3.3k!
TAGLIST | MASTERLIST
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“Ready?”
Lockwood ducked into the car's passenger seat, grinning at the sight of her comically desperate expression. George and Lucy were fussing in the backseat, mainly because of Lucy’s seatbelt, or lack thereof, and they didn't seem to notice his arrival.
“Just wear the fucking seatbelt.”
"I'll be fine, George."
"She got her license at 16. 16! They just let anyone drive all willy-nilly up and down the roads in America."
Lucy gave him a look. He finally gave up and tugged at his own seatbelt sceptically, muttering darkly under his breath.
Lockwood & Co. was much more than a psychical investigation agency. Outside of their working hours, each member liked to work on some kind of passion project. After not having driven for over a year since she got her driving license in the States, she had decided to apply for one in London. Luckily, her employer had gallantly offered to provide her with the lessons she badly needed, having been the first of the three to earn his license. Well, employer and boyfriend. 
Her mother could hardly believe the news and, frankly, so could she. In a lot of ways, having an English boyfriend was vastly different from having an American one. First, there was a slight communication barrier, given how terrible she was with accents. Then there were the differing preferences - Lockwood seemed forever ready for a cuppa at any time of day, whereas the only kind of tea she really enjoyed was iced tea. Still, these differences left gaps for lingering gazes and silences that stretched on a little too much, and somewhere in between she slipped her hand into his, and the rest was history. 
Lockwood turned away to buckle his seatbelt.
"Okay, your seatbelt on?"
"Yes."
"Ready to go?"
"Hang on," came George's peeved voice from behind them, "you're not going to brief her first?" The two of them stared at each other blankly. 
"Uh, Y/N, do you remember how to drive?"
"Sure." It was one of those things you never forget, like riding a bicycle. Sure, it had been a while, but how hard could it truly be?
"Brilliant. Now-"
George pulled himself forward between the two front seats, straining against his seatbelt. “We don’t drive on the right side here. We drive on the left side of the road. Left. Left.”
She glanced at her rearview mirror which outlined the line of cars behind them parked on the left side of the street.
“No. You don’t say.”
Lockwood coughed, poorly concealing his laugh as he craned his neck towards the backseat windows. "Right, all clear. I think we can move of-"
"Parking brake."
"Er, right, what George said. Disable the parking brake first."
“I’ve never driven with a parking brake before.”
“So you push in this metal bit, like so,” said Lockwood, gently manoeuvring her fingers into the right grip, “and then pull it up a little, and then bring it all the way down.”
She tugged at it in frustration. “I -it’s not working.”
“Lockwood, did you tell her to step on the “
“Step-on-the-brake-while-doing-that-yes I was just about to say, George. I think I know how to teach someone how to drive. Unless you’d like to take over?”
"Oh, please. You couldn't pay me to sit in the front seat with that maniac driving."
She got her parking brake down, checked her mirrors, and they were off. For a minute there it was quite enjoyable, trundling through the mostly empty backstreets of London. Lockwood even tried to prop his feet on the dashboard before getting badly told off by George. He was forever propping his feet up at the slightest chance - at the Archives, at home, and now here. Maybe it was all part of some innate desire to be a wheelbarrow.
And so, things were going perfectly rosy, until she faced her first real challenge - oncoming traffic. As soon as the car heading towards them came into plain enough view, the four of them went into hysterics. The road was just narrow enough to make overtaking a little too tricky for her abilities at the moment.
“What do I do? WHY isn’t he slowing down?”
“Don’t panic, it’s alright. Stop a little to the side.”
She cursed, fumbling for the brake pedal her foot had carelessly slipped off of. Lockwood was nervously watching the car get closer and closer to them.
“Now would be a good time to stop, Y/N. Brake! BRAKE!”
They shot ahead sharply, swerving right sharply, narrowly missing the car passing them. Lucy swore loudly and George gripped the car grab handle above him as he started scolding no one in particular. 
"NOT THE BRAKE!”
Lockwood gripped the steering wheel over her hands, frantically trying to steer them to safety. With some difficulty, she shifted her foot back to the right pedal and slammed the brakes. There was a bit of a scuffle in the backseat, including George going off on Lucy in a very ‘I-told-you-so’ tone.
At the front of the car, Lockwood and she were still frozen, reeling from the past very exciting 30 seconds. Her eyes settled to where his hands were still resting on hers, tightly pinning her fingers to the steering wheel.
“Your hands are so warm.”
He peeled them off almost instantly, and she was sorry she brought it up in the first place. “Yeah, well, they’re panicking, just like the rest of me. What the bloody hell was that? I thought you said you knew how to drive!”
“I do know how to drive.” She bit back a smile at the sight of her 180 cm tall boyfriend trying to catch his breath with his hand dramatically splayed across his chest, muttering something about Americans handing out licenses to just about anyone.
The drive back to the rental car agency was much less eventful. After returning the car, they trudged back up the road to Portland Row. As they hung their coats up, she met his thoughtful gaze.
“What?”
“Nothing.” He drew in a breath and hesitated. “You look nice.”
“Is this some convoluted way of patting yourself on the back for your fashion choices?”
“So you agree? You think you look nice?”
She groaned. She should have known no good was going to come from showing Lockwood Mean Girls. Still, it was hard to stay mad for long at a face like that. "You’re such a nuisance. A…delightful one, arguably, but still a nuisance.”
"You find me delightful?"
"That's your takeaway?”
"Next thing I know you’ll be saying you fancy me.”
“I’m literally wearing your shirt right now.”
“Luce!” He turned and started down the hallway. “Y/N says I’m delightful!”
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As usual, the four of them reconvened in the kitchen a little after lunch for a tea break. Well, the four of them minus Lockwood, who had been bullied into fixing a plumbing issue in the basement. They sipped their tea and chewed their biscuits in silence. She wished she could bring down a little for Lockwood.
“Maybe I should go see if he needs some help.”
“No!” George nearly upset his tea, which made Lucy choke on her biscuit. “ Don’t go down there. You’ll distract him, he won’t get shit done, and that’ll be one more week without hot water for me.”
So she sat back down sulkily, brooding over her tea, until another topic of conversation struck her.
“Speaking of Lockwood -“
“- no one’s mentioned Lockwood-“
“-did you guys see the socks he was wearing today?”
Lucy and George didn’t even try to muffle their groans.
“They were very nice socks! They had the most precious pattern of baby ducks against a darling blue backgr-“
She stopped short as Lucy reached across the table to grip her hand.
“Y/N, I say this with love, but if I have to hear one more word about Lockwood, or his stupid bloody socks, I am going to ram a fork into my eye.”
She blinked, confused, and scoffed. “Gosh, you guys are so overdramatic. I don’t talk about him that much.”
George and Lucy exchanged a look.
“Okay, so maybe I like my boyfriend and I enjoy talking about him. Is that really so bad?”
Lockwood rescued all of them from the siege of George’s response by walking in right then, holding a wrench and looking a little worse for wear, but appeared very pleased with himself.
“Fixed!”
“Finally.”
Lucy frowned at the clock above the stove. “Isn’t that client meeting at Tooting today?”
Lockwood’s smile slipped right off as he glanced at his watch and rushed out of the kitchen, muttering furiously. His simple black leather watch which complemented his wrist so perfectly-
“Y/N! Time to leave!”
Maybe George and Lucy had a point.
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Once their client meeting had finished, she and Lockwood stood on the pavement outside the house, looking for cabs to flag down. It was a balmy evening, and a cloudless sky meant they could enjoy the warmth of the setting sun beating down on them. She squinted down the road while Lockwood pulled something out from his coat pocket.
“For a job well done this morning and at the meeting…” he revealed two pieces of tightly wrapped square candies sitting on his palm. “A little treat.”
She stared at the candy for a moment, thinking hard.
“Caramel! I just remembered.”
“…what?”
“That’s what we call it in the States. A caramel.”
“It’s made of caramel, sure-“
“Plural is caramels.”
He made a strangled sound from the back of his throat. “Changing an uncountable noun into a countable one? That’s just lazy.”
“Fine. What do you call it?”
“Toffee.” The vowels rolled off his tongue like silk in that English accent that had made it difficult to fully concentrate from day one. Standing next to him, watching him gently and methodically unfolding the golden wrapper, shining and glinting like a beacon of light…maybe this was all she needed to be happy.
“Taw-fee?”
He pulled a face at her exaggerated American drawl, and she leaned her head on his shoulder as he pried apart the stuck halves of the toffee. She watched him visibly relax as the first tangy notes hit his tongue, her own half close to melting in her palm under the brunt of the setting sun. He met her gaze and gave a faint smile, almost reflexively covering her hand with his own.
“God, you’re so American. So, which is it? Toffee or caramel?”
She bites into what's left of the soft treat she's scraped off her palm. It's warm and comforting and she instantly feels a little more happy. Maybe it's the candy, or maybe it's the boy whose side is pressed into hers. Love, she decides. It's love.
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“How many cups of tea have you had today?”
As idyllic as the weekend had been, they were back to their usual busy routine which meant that their evening tea break was the first time they’d see each other since breakfast. She had just walked into the kitchen where Lockwood was seated at the kitchen table, pouring over a mess of papers with a cup of tea to the side. One of the first things she had learnt about Lockwood was his near-debilitating addiction to tea. Now, he silently took a sip from his mug and she gave an exaggerated sigh, settling into the opposite end of the table.
“You really drink too much caffeine.”
He quirked his lips into a lopsided half-smile -/ he peered at the papers she had spilled onto the table. “What’s all…” he gestured to her papers with his mug, “…that?”
“The Rotwell agents give me hell for my American accent when they’re on duty at DEPRAC.” She held up her list of words dolefully. “‘Least I can do is pronounce things right.”
He slid into the chair next to her, taking a look at the list. “Which one are you at?”
“Pri-vacy. Pri...vacy. Nope, can't do it.”
“Of course it sounds weird when you say it like that. Try using it in a sentence.”
She narrowed her eyes at him. "Fine. If I have to say ‘pri-vacy’ one more time, I’m running you through with my rapier."
Lockwood choked on his tea.
"...or, you know...'pry-vacy' sounds perfectly fine."
She gave him a brief smile. “Anyway, I’ve got to do a Satchell’s run now. Lucy says we’re out of flares. Don’t wait up for me.”
It took her a decent amount of time to collect all the supplies they were out of stock on, yet when she returned Lockwood was still sitting in that same chair, staring at the same papers with worn-out eyes, distractedly tugging at his hair. He barely looked up when she walked in, mystified.
“You’re still up?”
He rubbed his face firmly. “I can’t…I can’t figure this out.” She took a closer look at the papers. There were reports dating back two centuries on the house of one of their upcoming cases.
“The investigation is tomorrow and I have no idea what or where the Source could be.”
“Well…maybe George’s figured it out.”
“If he did, he’d be home by now.” He hunched over the papers once again, his head swaying dangerously close to the table, and she was instantly reminded of how exhausted Lockwood had looked that morning. As if he hadn’t gotten a wink of sleep. She started stacking some papers together.
“It’s getting late. We should head to bed.”
“But I’m not done yet.”
“You can continue in the morning, but right now, you need to rest.”
His features hardened like he was ready to start a fight, but it lasted all of half a second before they caved to exhaustion. He looked like a drenched cat left out in the rain, with his hair messed up and in disarray.
“George is still at the Archives. What kind of a boss would I be to go to bed now? What kind of a…friend?”
Lockwood leaned back in his chair, briefly pressing a hand to his eyes and then his forehead, his forearm trembling ever so slightly. In the dim light of the kitchen, he seemed more skeleton than Man with his malnourished pallor and the scar on his lip being carefully outlined by a shadow. She ran a hand through his hair, down his neck, all the way to his shoulder.
“Hey. Don’t beat yourself up over it. You’re human, too.”
He gave a deep sigh. “Fine. I’ll come in a while.”
“Promise?”
He gave a jerky nod. The tea in his mug had gone stone cold by then, and so she brewed him a fresh cup. He looked up, confused, as she placed it next to his papers.
“What about the caffeine?”
She bit the inside of her cheek and combed down the hair sticking up all haywire, as if she hadn’t heard him. “What about it?”
He smiled faintly and gave the hand on his shoulder a light squeeze, and returned to his work with his eyes humming with a little more energy.
Later that night, she dreamt that he was falling, and she was losing her mind trying to save him.
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She should have known nothing was going to right in the job from the very beginning. None of them had been able to find much information on the house, and they were running late, so tempers were running very high. Even during the case itself, they were forced to split up and fumble through improvised plans. That was until she had stumbled onto Lockwood frozen at the basement door, looking down into the darkness in a strange way. 
Go back, he had said. I don’t know what any of us can expect in this place. So I’ll come with you, she had replied. Or let’s wait for George or Lucy. I can’t. Why not? It’s different. I don’t have the time to explain it. Different how?
You’re more important.
The look on his face was more foreign than the house itself.
Now they were home, back at Portland Row. Lucy and George had sensed something was off and retired to their rooms. Lockwood headed towards the kitchen, and she followed him. He hadn’t spoken a word since her face had blanched at the sight of him poised at the basement’s entrance. She tugged at the ends of her hair. She could feel an argument brewing and she didn’t like it one bit.
“Are you okay?”
Lockwood continued rummaging through the refrigerator for his routine drink of orange juice, taking his time to reply. “Don’t I look okay?”
“Yes. No.” He was terribly confusing. “Why did you say you weren’t important?”
“I didn’t say that.”
“You said you were less important.”
He finally twisted the cap off the carton with his trembling fingers. The case had shaken all of them up, but for some reason, he was trying to hide it.
“Well…it’s not not true.”
“No it isn’t.”
“I’m a figurehead, Y/N. I represent the agency, that’s my name on the plaque out there, but that’s about it. You, Lucy, George…you’re the soul of the agency.”
“What’s that supposed to mean?”
“If…heaven forbid, something were to happen to one of us…”
Oh, he was so aggravating. She massaged her temples. She was going to punch him soon if she wasn’t careful.
“…the lot of you’d be better off without me than anyone else, and-“
"Oh god, shut up already!"
Lockwood abandoned the carton and straightened, and they glared at each other from opposite ends of the kitchen. “Or what? You'll shoot me?"
His expression softened only marginally when he saw how close she was to tears. She shook her head.
"If you pull another stunt like this...I might just have to marry you.”
“I’d have to marry you so that you can look down at your bloody hand and remember that there are people out there who would be nothing without you.”
“Y/-“
“Shame on you, Anthony J. Lockwood. Do you think George wouldn’t care about losing his best friend? Or Lucy? Or me? Hm?”
The tears had started to trickle down her face, and he walked towards her with a sympathetic expression, any and all rage long forgotten, and offered her his handkerchief. She could barely manage a weak glare before caving and accepting it, wiping away at her face. As soon as she was done, she wrapped her arms around him, and he enveloped her in a warm hug that smelled faintly of vanilla.
“That was a…a terrible thing to say, Anthony.”
“I know. I didn’t mean to worry you.”
“Well, you’re doing a pretty shitty job then. I’m worried about you every day.”
She felt rather than saw his smile, though he could perfectly picture it in her mind - uneven and tipped to the right, but perfectly sincere.
"Also, I'm pretty sure that shooting remark counts as xenophobia."
"Yes, I'm hugging you very xenophobically now."
She buried her face into his chest and scrunched her nose hard. It was moments like these that only cemented her faith that she was never going to find somebody who made her feel the way Lockwood did. Seeing him standing outside the basement, she didn’t even need to think about what to do next. It had become incredibly instinctual - her readiness to take his hand and hurtle into the latest oblivion, blind as a bat. It didn’t get more simple than this: she just wanted to be wherever he was. 
It was him and her, and her and him - Portland Row’s cripplingly disaster couple, Mr A.J. Lockwood and Miss Americana.
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TAGLIST: @dangelnleif @elenianag080 @snoopyluver20 @ell0ra-br3kk3r @avdiobliss @mitskiswift99 @ahead-fullofdreams @neewtmas @mischivana @houseoftwistedspirits
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partyanimal167 · 4 months
Text
A Win-Win Situation- Rayleigh x F!Reader
I had to drop a bag at the mechanic two days ago, and to literally keep myself from not crying, I was coming up with a fic idea to make the situation sexier and not depressing 😅 This popped up, and I was just like, 'At least I can finally write for Rayleigh.' I also told my friend, and he supported doing what you needed to do because damn do autoshops scare me.
CW: modern au, black fem reader, age gap, very light dubcon, smut, praise kink, daddy kink, MDNI
You only expected to get the tires rotated. So when the man started talking about parts and labor costs, you were ready for the earth to swallow you up whole.
You were confident about a lot of things. You could do most adulting tasks like clean, organize your bills, plan a trip, etc. But cars...weren't your area of expertise. But you managed for awhile, so you didn't worry too much! You watched videos and knew that there were things you needed to get done to maintain the vehicle.
So you went to get your tires rotated. Easy. Nothing to worry about....until, the guy pointed out that your check engine light was on. He must have seen the way you stiffened and tried to keep your expression calm.
The man gave you a sweet, flirty smile and waved his hand. "Don't worry too much, sweetheart. I'm actually a bit packed today, but an old friend owns a shop on the next street over. He should be able to check it out. Shouldn't cost you much either."
You bit your lip nervously as you rocked a little. "Really?"
"Of course! Tell 'im Shanks sent you. He'll take really good care of you."
~~~
You shyly stepped out of your car in front of the older shop where a radio played throwbacks and a fan blew strongly.
You walked quietly through the open garage door where a person stood under a lifted car with a welder's mask on. "Uh, excuse me" you raised your voice a little since you weren't sure if they'd be able to hear.
The body looked up at you before stepping from under the car and turning to take off the welding hood.
You weren't ready for the kind, sweet older man to beam at you. His glasses were somehow spotless despite the hood. After he wiped his hands on a rag, he pulled his long, gray hair out of its ponytail. "Hi dear, how can I help you today?"
You fidgeted with your hands a little. "Huh, I was just trying to get my tires rotated, but my check engine light is on. The guy, Shanks, said I should come see you." you explained.
The man nodded. "Ah the boy. Yes of course I can help you." he wiped his hairline and sipped his water. "Shame you're out here in this heat. That boyfriend of yours shouldn't be having you out running car errands either."
Your cheeks warmed up, and you scratched one nervously. "I don't have a boyfriend." you softly corrected.
The man handed you a water bottle. "Well that can be fixed--easily." he chuckled. Before you could ask what he met, he held out his hand, and you gave him his keys. "I'm Rayleigh by the way." You nodded and with your own. "Beautiful, what a pleasure."
You stepped to the side as the man drove your car in and took out a little gadget to hook up to your car. You watched a bit confused as he pressed some buttons and frowned at the screen.
The sun continued to beam down, so you were glad you were wearing your short shorts and cropped hoodie, but you weren't expecting to be out alone with just you and the older man. The other shop had a lot of people coming in and out. You wiped your brow and chugged some of your water as you eyed the older man. You didn't feel too nervous though. Rayleigh seemed nice. He was all gentle smiles and had a calm demeanor. Plus, he looked good for his age. You bet he was a real lady killer in his day.
"I'm going to be honest, love. I think one of your catalytic converter is shot. We're going to need to replace it." the man sighed as he closed the door and looked over to you.
You blinked twice. "That's the expensive part, right?"
The man chuckled at your wording and nodded. "I'm afraid so. But don't worry. I won't charge you an arm and a leg." he assured you. You rocked the on your heels a little as you nibbled a little on your lip. "That's what Shanks said..."
"Let's get you out this heat." you entered a small office and sat at the desk. Rayleigh handed you another water bottle before taking off his denim jacket. You nearly choked. This man is jacked. He had on a white tee, but you weren't expecting the way his muscles filled it in. "You okay there?"
You cleared your throat and met a mischievous look. Hopefully, he didn't notice your stares. You nodded. He grinned as he typed away at his computer. "So I need to order the part, but I think including labor we're looking at this amount." he filled out an invoice and circled the total. Rayleigh watched as your body went rigid and he sighed. "I'm sorry sweetheart. I wish it could be less. I-,"
"Oh no, it's fine! You have a business to run of course," you gave a little nervous smile. Rayleigh gave you a once over before that innocent smile was back.
"Come here, princess."
You whipped your head up. "Excuse me?"
Rayleigh pushed away from the desk a little and patted a spot in front of him. "Come sit."
You stood and walked around the desk and sat. You gasped as your hand was taken and a soft kiss was placed on it. "You can't go giving an old man ideas especially with the way you're looking at me." you gasped in response. "We can do a little trade. What do you say? Let's see how many rounds you can last, and I'll make some adjustments." You were surprised by the challenge, but it excited you all the same. The old man seemed experienced. Plus, there was no way he was going to out last you either. It was an easy win-win.
~~~
"Fuck daddy, daddy!" your legs were shaking as the man continued to pump his fingers inside as you sat in his lap. You gripped tightly on his shoulders as you bounced up and down.
Rayleigh grinned meanly at you. "What's wrong, dear? It's only been two so far. I'm trying to be nice here. Can't you give me some more?" The man went back to licking and sucking on your nipples as you moaned and sobbed. Your walls started clenching on his fingers once more and you whined as he put more pressure on your clit with the heel of his palm. "Ah there we go. Good girl, I knew you could do it." He sucked a hickey right below your ear. "You flatter this old man with how you sound. Is it good?"
"Yes!" you groaned as you tipped over that mountain again.
It took you a couple moments to catch your breath, and when you were present again, you realized you were on the desk looking up at the man who didn't even have a hair out of place. That sweet smile was there, but with the three orgasms he just gave you, it was so deceiving. Your face was burning, and you let your eyes trail down to see his member out and proud. It was girthy and hard. You could see the veins that ran down and the streams of precum that had been leaking. You whimpered.
"I wanna suck it, daddy." your eyes glossed over, and your cheeks were shiny with tears.
The man groaned at the sight. He'd have to thank Shanks for sending you over. He shook his head. "Ah ah, no sweetheart. You can do that next time. This is your reward for being so good for me, princess." He lifted your hood and spread some of juices around. "Deep breath now," and he sunk in.
You cried out deliriously. He filled you so well and stretched you more than you expected even with prep. You hooked your legs around his waist and pulled him even closer. Rayleigh chuckled before pushing in further. "Fuck, you feel so good, love. Such a naughty girl just for carrying around this good pussy, shit." the man huffed as he started up a slow but strong rhythm.
Skin slapped against another loudly, and you were drowning it. It was too much yet not enough at the same time. Rayleigh grunted deliciously near your ear and cooed about how pretty you were, how good you felt, how he wanted to keep you around and fill you up. You clenched around him more and more, and he sped up. "I'll give it to you, baby. Good girl wants to get pumped full?"
"Yes, yes! Please, let me- uh uh, let me have it please." You cried out. You moaned as you were kissed deeply and felt your tongues twirled around. "Fuck, fuck! I'm gonna cum, daddy. I'm gonna cum. Fuck, yes!" Your orgasm hit you hard; you saw pure white in your eyes as you crashed and rode that wave into pleasure.
"So good. So good! I'll give it to you princess. Just take it," Rayleigh continued on and huffed loudly, glasses finally falling off. He gripped the back of your thighs as he finished and milked himself.
The two of stay silent for a moment before you squeaked as you felt fingers stuff you full. "Can't waste a drop." Rayleigh winked.
You looked at him completely stunned.
This was certainly not how you thought the day would go...
~~~
*rereads and blushes* God damn....
I hope I did justice to my mans Rayleigh! I'm just gonna indulge in this fantasy to pretend that I didnt have to drop cash on this damn car...
Thanks for reading!
Part Two
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