#I just had the worst day ever I am feeling better now and thinking about videoed game
Explore tagged Tumblr posts
Text
Ooooo this one looks really fun! Thanks @fangirlshenanigans04
What's the origin of your blog title? I just decided I wanted a tumblr blog one day and didnât know what to call it, so I kid you not, I just searched âtumblr blog title ideasâ and some generator gave me âmagicandtormentâ and I almost vibed with it, then I swapped out torment for mundane and here we are almost 3 years later lol
OTP(s) + Shipname: Rayllum and Percabeth, hands down. Thereâs definitely others (Kanera, Tagatha, Sokeefe, etc), but those are the main two for me.
Favorite color: blue! same prev
Favorite game: I am by no means a gamer, but Iâm always down for Cards Against Humanity or Uno and Iâve dabbled in DND
Song stuck in your head: Amparito Roca (because I was just playing it in wind ensemble) and Mr. Brightside (because I played it for pep band on Saturday lol)
Weirdest habit/trait? Honestly prev, Iâm the same way. I mutter to myself a lot, especially when reading. I give commentary all day if you just listen lol
Hobbies: writing! I have this 400-some page word doc that Iâve been working on for a couple years just for fun. Iâve also been trying to get into embroidery and as a kid I made things out of duct tape all the time. I still make a couple duct tape flowers every year for my mom on Motherâs Day because sheâs allergic to real flowers.
If you work, what's your profession? Currently working on my bachelorâs in mechanical engineering (I graduate next spring which is INSANE). Sometimes I work as an assistant in one of my professorsâ labs, and the last few summers Iâve been a lifeguard.
If you could have any job you wish, what would it be? Idk but I think being a pilot would be really cool, ooooooo or maybe a professional swimmer.
Something you're good at: swimming! And also math
Something you're bad at: running lol
Something you love: my family and friends (including you all, my lovely mutuals), theyâre the best
Something you could talk about for hours off the cuff: ask me about Olympic swimming, anything engineering related, my favorite books and movies, and I will yap for hours
Something you hate: uhhhhh politics lol (yes I know itâs important but that doesnât mean I have to be happy about it)
Something you collect: do books count? I donât have rare books or anything like that, just⌠a bunch of books Iâve read or want to read lol
Something you forget: ahaha how would I know? Iâm forgetting it
What's your love language? physical touch and gift-giving
Favorite movie/show: THE BAD BATCH has a chokehold on me omg, also The Dragon Prince and Scrubs. My favorite movies are Cinderella (1950 and 2015) and Return of the Jedi (I feel like Iâm forgetting a couple đ
)
Favorite food: ice cream! Also scones and this dish my mom makes whenever Iâm home called hamburger and spinach
Favorite animal: dogs đś
What were you like as a child? I swam competitively for 10 years and loved it. I also enjoyed arts and crafts like the duct tape mentioned above, and I liked school, too. And reading! May Bird and the Ever After was the first book series I really fell in love with. But I was also kind of a loner and a floater socially and it bothered me until I got to high school, really became comfortable in my own skin, and realized just how little I cared about drama (my friends in elementary school had no chill, hence my loner tendencies thereafter)
Favorite subject at school? Math and music
Least favorite subject: ugh PE for sure. I got teased for not knowing the rules of like basketball and soccer, and most of the teachers I had kinda sucked lol
What's your best character trait? Iâd say Iâm really loyal and kind, but I feel like my friends would be better at answering this lol
What's your worst character trait? Iâm pretty easygoing, but once I get angry, Iâm angry. Also same prev, I think Iâve gotten a little hyper independent.
If you could change any detail of your life right now, what would it be? Either I would not have agreed to do a competition later this month or I would be studying abroad with my two best friends (engineering makes study abroad hard, hence why Iâm here and not there)
If you could travel in time, who would you like to meet? Martha (Patsy) Jefferson Randolph! Thomas Jeffersonâs oldest daughter is one of my favorite historical figures thanks to Americaâs First Daughter by Stephanie Dray and Laura Kamoie. Sheâs very fascinating and quietly powerful. Even if you arenât reading her story through historical fiction, just looking at the basic facts of what she went through and what sheâs done is incredible. She was so resilient, and I really admire her.
No pressure tags:
@mandaloriandragontrainer @twinsunstars @jorolle @here-comes-the-moose @weirdponytail @clonebrainrot @maidenvault @vixies-art @not-so-mundane-after-all @loveution @thatartiststudios @glbtrx @konmaao3 and anyone else who wants to join!
Get to know your mutuals!
What's the origin of your blog title? When I was in middle school, someone told me "you dress so goth, but your personality is so happy. You're like a really cheerful grim reaper. A joyful soul collector." And that's been my username for most everything ever since!
OTP(s) + Shipname: Oooh, right now it's Jayvik, and tbh I can't think of another one, this is one of the first ships I've been really really into tbh. Other dynamics focused on my blog have actually been more platonic, like Irondad
Favorite color: Red!
Favorite game: Dungeons and Dragons! Both as a player, and DM!
Song stuck in your head: The Challenge - EPIC
Weirdest habit/trait? I download thousands of still frames of tv shows that I love so I can make memes out of them. But I have to sift through and delete all the pictures that are blurry or unnecessary, which takes hours. I think it's super fun because I'm autistic and really enjoy sorting stuff lol
Hobbies: Writing, playing DnD, making memes, and hanging out with my friends!
If you work, what's your profession? Not so much a profession lol, I work at a toy store. It's a part time job while I'm in college, studying to be a radiologist!
If you could have any job you wish, what would it be? Realistically? Radiologist. But ANY job I wish? Professional DM or Professional DnD player, like the people on Dropout or Critical Role haha
Something you're good at: I'm good at writing stories! I can write them well and write things that make people feel deep emotions, and I like that.
Something you're bad at: Recognizing when someone doesn't want help haha. I tend to try and fix things or help people when they just want to vent, and it ends up frustrating for both of us.
Something you love: I love stories. Any kind, I love so so many
Something you could talk about for hours off the cuff: My favorite shows and stories, my dnd campaigns and characters, my stories and ideas
Something you hate: Fascism. Bigotry. Willful ignorance. Fearmongering. Propaganda.
Something you collect: Dice!! I'm a dice goblin for sure haha
Something you forget: I often forget chores unfortunately
What's your love language? Physical touch and acts of service
Favorite movie/show: Ooh right now it's definitely Arcane haha
Favorite food: Sushi!
Favorite animal: Cats!
What were you like as a child? In a word? Unwell haha. I'm a good bit better now, still struggling with a lot, but better than I used to do
Favorite subject at school? English, I was always good at that class
Least favorite subject: Chemistry. I hate that shit so much lol
What's your best character trait? I think that I'm kind and willing to stand up for others
What's your worst character trait? I can be disrespectful to some types of spirituality unfortunately. It just doesn't make logical sense to me. I have two friends that are fully convinced that a cursed doll gave some youtuber testicular cancer. And I just can't see the logic or critical thought in that
If you could change any detail of your life right now, what would it be? Mmm. All of fascism shit is definitely damaging my calm so I'd love to change that specifically
If you could travel in time, who would you like to meet? Harry Allen. Google him he's a badass transgender cowboy
Tag as as many mutuals as you want!!
@sb-essebi @glitternightingale @blatterpussbunnyfromhell @captainhollowstories @kydrogendragon @misforvendetta @poetryinmotion-author @bocularteletheric @kai-ovillager @thatoneneuvichiliauthor @4amarcanethoughts @alexspearsxoxo @kotonni @buckybucananbarnes @kakesuwolf @martybaker @patheticjayce @sleepycrowhours @aixabi @up-the-bracket @snoopyviktor @emdashflower @humanshapedstress @hellsalore @juuzousmom @softandslow @fangirlshenanigans04 @batmans-attic @lvrstrsh @bluemoyai @tearexxwrites @bodyofvvater @lifeandeathepub @areesespiece @lancesblueazaleas @monaisme @milkywaysipper @carmendyy @tseecka @heazueken @tophat-69 @velocitychroma @prjctdiva @gremlinofchaos @ourvectorviktor @kenjinx @jxmimac @gh0stedvhampir @voxconcordia @arcaneheraldslawyer
ngl I tried to tag ALL my mutuals that I have, but this was how many it allowed me to do before it made me stop lol so here's as many as I could fit!
52 notes
¡
View notes
Text
Lol
#theres nothing quite like your mother saying Well maybe you shouldve been more careful because now your boss might think youve been flirting#with this male coworker (whom i like splendidly as a friend) and now maybe she thinks youre not trustworthy#and maybe she regrets hiring you because you said you feel like youre making a lot of mistakes this week and she might assume thats because#your head is filled with this boy.#so dont make her regret hiring you.#MA'AM I TOLD YOU I WAS ALREADY ANXIOUS BECAUSE I MADE SO MANY MISTAKES TODAY WHY ARE YOU MAKING ME ASHAMED#OF SOMETHING THAT I HONESTLY HAD NO CLUE I OUGHT TO BE ANXIOUS ABOUT AT MY FIRST NEW JOB AFTER IVE GRADUATED????#anyway going to bed i cant take this anymore LOL she said it so lightly and im like. well i never even considered#being afraid of making my boss regret hiring me somehow because of some kind of behaviour that i had no idea was sending some kind of signal#anywaysssss đđđđđđđ#and then she was like why are you crying?? đđđđđđđđ#not to be like this is partly why i didnt want to move home but confound it all why are things like this#can i not simply confide in my mother my anxieties and worriws#worries#and not also have to worry about her potentially being like Well have you considered you ARE right and it IS your fault?#idk man something something firstborn child eldest daughter can i have some room to breathe. please#also not to whine but Not my father walking in on me eating dinner at 10pm because i was holed up#in my room in a semi depressive state after so many gong shows in a work day and straight up having no appetite#but deciding my body needs the food anyway its better late than never.....walking in and then saying#you know if you eat this late you'll gain weight. SIR??????????????????#sorry to complain and rant again i simply cannot in this house and whats more am doing my best to honour my parents#but why is it so hard out here and how can they say stuff like that with a smile!!!!!!!#also i DO have an inner critic who is always like Its your fault you are the worst you should be ashamed always........why do my parents#not understand after knowing me for so long and watching me grow up#that i can make myself so ashamed of the smallest thing so easily and that what they say drives me to shame almost as easily?#ANYWAY LOL WHAT A DAY#you guys!!! i am working so hard i promise i PROMISE I am!!! it is my first full time job ever and i am working so so hard#i am doing my absolute best and no one sees it and that is FINE i just wish my parents would see that i AM trying!!#i come back home so dead every single day because i put in 120%! this is literally my first job after graduation#and my parents KNOW this has been the most exhausting taxing and soul crushing year ive had in my very short life so far
21 notes
¡
View notes
Photo
[Image Description: A digital painting of the shrouded woodlands from outer wilds. One of the wooden hand devices stands across the water. In front of it is a short dock with a single lit candle on the right railing. There are faintly lit tree branches above the scene. In the sky above the trees are many stars and the distant horizon is visible on the right of the image, lightening blue with dawn. End Image Description.]
game study from april ^^
#HIIIIII#I LOVE THE HAND THINGS THEYRE CREEPY THEYRE LOOMING THEYRE DISORIENTING THEYRE SO COOL#I have another big wip of one in the works :3c#I didn't know what to call them in the description..#I just had the worst day ever I am feeling better now and thinking about videoed game#anyway emjoyyyyy#outer wilds#outer wilds: echoes of the eye#echoes of the eye#eote#outer wilds spoilers#eote spoilers#ow spoilers#echoes of the eye spoilers
88 notes
¡
View notes
Text
.
#had the worst day ever#last week things got a little better but today just destroyed all the progress i made#its so FRUSTRATING#how emotionally unstable i am đŤ #like idek if im just overly sensitive or ive really just been let down over and over again#and like bc of this i KNOW i shouldnât expect ANYTHING at all not even human decency from others#but i still have hope unfortunately so i get crushed every time something goes wrong (all the time everyday)#today i woke up early to go run some errands and got home late at night#and the whole day i only had one piece of bread and iced tea#and like. i KNOW this is exactly why i feel awful and terrible and everything is shit#which is why its even more frustrating bc i canât do anything about it when im this depressed rnâŚ#and like . its really annoying that everything is just going so wrong that i give up on it all bc i just canât deal with anything#i donât even have my best friend anymore to complain to#i really really reallly canât do this alone but ig this is how itâll be for a long time#itâs been like this since early july⌠honestly i donât even think things will get any better soon#seeing how even tho i made some progress last week i lost it all now and i will keep losing it over and over again#im going crazy really#and i wish my parents would stop making me feel guilty that im depressed#like genuinely what do you want me to do about it?????#you get annoyed at me when i donât eat the food you make when u know im insane and paranoid and cannot eat this ive told u a million times#and the worst thing is that they KNOW what i like and eat but they donât make it ever they keep making the food i canât eat#like u canât expect me to go inside the kitchen and make it myself bc i will literally pass out and die#im not kidding when i say this bc so many times i try and i really faint bc of the distress it makes me feel#i feel like this might sound extremely stupid to anyone who hasnât experienced it but thatâs just how it is here#anyway im gonna go to sleep now even tho im probably gonna die of frustration#i donât think iâll even wake tomorrow x_x my head feels like it might explode any second now#we have a family gathering tomorrow but im ditching them so ill probably just sleep until tuesday đ great#(i say this bc its 7am rn⌠by tomorrow i mean today but itâs tomorrow in my head bc im still up)
3 notes
¡
View notes
Text
FANTASIZEâŚ
old!logan howlett x fem!reader
*mdni
cw: cursing, nsfw, age gap (reader is twenty-five)
wc: 1k+
a/n: i have no idea where this came from. i was supposed to be working on something completely different but apparently, this needed to be written first instead. yes it is inspired by the unreleased ariana grande song.
âą âââ â
ĘâĄÉâ
âââ â°
Logan couldn't read minds. He never longed for the ability or power; he was better off not knowing what others had going on in their heads. He only wanted to peek into someone's mind when he caught your twinkling eyes lingering in his direction. Luckily, he could still read your mind even without the mutation because your fantasies were written all over your face.
It was obvious to anyone caught in the same room as you and Logan, that there was tension. You burned holes all over his body with your intense gaze. If Logan was in the mood to entertain your little crush, he could compliment you in a way that was sure to make you blush.
"Good form today, kid."
"Lookin' pretty today, sweetheart."
"Lemme fix that lipstick, dollface." That one left you with an ache in between your thighs as his thumb brushed your lower lip. "Can't have you walkin' around here a mess, now can we?"
Logan wasn't sure if he would ever make it to heaven but seeing your lip tremble with need was close enough for him.
If he saw you in a dress with a pair of mary-jane's, he would try to catch a glimpse of your underwear in the reflection of your shoes. It didn't always work but it made him feel young again.
No one was brave enough to address it due to him being twice your age. Despite being twenty-five years old and already having graduated from the school, it was still considered taboo to some. If anyone asked Logan about it, he would brush it off as a schoolgirl crush that you would eventually grow out of.
It was truly harmless he thought. You got the attention you craved and Logan got to see a pretty young woman squirm in her seat because of him. It never went further than flirtatious comments and lingering stares.
âŚ
Today might be the worst day of your life. You and Logan were being sent out together on a mission to find a mutant that lived two hours away. It wasn't the mission that worried you; it was being stuck in a tiny car with only Logan for one hundred and twenty minutes.
"Why aren't 'cha talkin', dollface?" Logan asked, almost teasingly.
For almost twenty minutes, he was aware of your eyes watching his hand hold the wheel. Logan was also incredibly aware of the effect it had on you. A little broken sigh escapes you when his hand clenches tighter around the leather, making his veins pop even more.
"Too busy fantasizing 'bout me?"
No matter how much you tried to find someone your age to be with, your heart always went back to Logan. He treated you differently than anyone you've ever met. Sure, sometimes he made you feel like a kid but he also knew you could handle your own. Logan wouldn't let anyone underestimate you; that kept you crawling back to him.
"Maybe I am." You shrug, fed up with his games.
"Oh, yeah?" He says, taking a deep inhale of your sent. "What's goin' on in that pretty head of yours, hm?"
You were used to Logan's overly confident personality that he tried to use to intimidate you; and make you stumble over your words. It wasn't gonna work this time. Logan wanted you just as much as you wanted him, but you needed him to admit it first.
"Us in the backseat of the car." You admit, biting the inside of your cheek nervous for his response.
"Really? And what are we doing back there?" He asked, cocking his head curiously as his eyes remained glued to the road.
"You're on top of me, makin' me feel good." Your words were coy but that was the point. Logan liked being the tease; having all the power.
"Keep talkin', dollface."
There it was. You had him right where you wanted him.
You pretended to think about it for a moment before shaking your head and telling him, "No, I shouldn't"
"Why not?"
"Because an old man like yourself can't keep up with me, right? At least that's what I heard you tell the Professor."
Logan couldn't believe you had heard their conversation earlier this week. The Professor was the only person who knew the truth of how Logan felt towards you. When Charles asked him what was stopping him from pursuing you, all Logan had to say was, "I'm too old for her; can't keep up with such a young thing like her".
Which was far from the truth.
"So obsessed with me that you're listenin' to my conversations now?" He growled, pulling the car over.
"Stop acting like you aren't obsessed with me too." You smile at him. "I know a few pairs of my underwear 'mysteriously' disappear from my hamper. I know that you can hear me through the walls late at night, panting your name."
With each sentence, you inch closer to him. Logan could only compare you to the snake in Eve's garden; encouraging him to give into his temptations.
"I also know that you want me." Your eyes were dark with desire, making his pants tighter. "So, if you can't get it up or claim that you don't want me then that's fine with-"
Logan fumed with irritation and lust. Not thinking twice before slamming your lips into yours. He tasted exactly like you imagine; tobacco and mint. You were addicted; no one could ever compare to him.
In a rush, his rough hands pulled you into his inviting lap before one cupped your jaw and his other made its way up your skirt, toying with your lacy underwear. He wasn't going to give it to you that easily.
"L-Logan, please," You moan against his mouth, trying to create some friction on his lap. "Need it."
God, he's waited a long time to hear that; to see you so desperate in his arms. When he pulled back to look at you, Logan couldn't be more pleased with the image in front of him. Your eyes shut tightly, face scrunched, trying to concentrate, and lips pouty with annoyance. Logan removes his hand under your skirt; causing the prettiest whine to escape you. He thought you might be what finally kills him.
"We aren't done, sweetheart." He groaned in your ear. "Get in the backseat because you are gonna tell me every single one of your fuckin' fantasies."
#james logan howlett#logan howlett#logan howlett x reader#hugh jackman wolverine#logan howlett smut#deadpool and wolverine#logan x reader#wolverine angst#wolverine x reader#logan howlett angst#wolverine smut#wolverine#logan howlett imagine#wolverine fluff#wolverine x you#wolverine one shot#logan howlett fluff#logan wolverine#logan howlett x you#logan howlett fanfiction#logan james howlett#logan#x men#old man logan x reader#x men comics#marvel#marvel cinematic universe#old man!logan#mcu#marvel movies
4K notes
¡
View notes
Text
ëí¤ - Sneaking in - - â -> N.NK
Synopsis -> After a long day, Niki just wants cuddles from his girlfriend.
Pairing -> TiredBf!Niki x SleepyGf!FemReader.
Warning -> None!
*ŕłŕź click here - WC -> 0.8k
DESC - âżď¸ď¸âŹâď¸Âˇâ This is my only account!! any other account that has my work! Please don't be afraid to P.M me and help take it down.. & All works under - #âś.enha
Niki held his breath as he slowly and quietly closed the window of your dorm room.
He closed the curtains so you wouldn't be bothered by the moonlight.
It's late, nearing two in the morning, and he knows after the day you had you've got to be in a deep sleep now.
He didn't want to wake you. At least, not yet.
So he tried to be as quiet and as careful as he possibly could.
But that was a little easier said than done as he walked through your room and had to be careful not to step or trip on anything you might have on the floor.
He soon began to tiptoe to your bed and finally, he reached it.
He breathed out a sigh of relief and then quietly took his shoes off before she crawled under the covers with you.
He wanted to get here much sooner than this but he's been busy since early this morning and just finished everything he had to do today an hour or so ago.
It felt like time had just dragged on today.
He was completely exhausted and felt very stressed.
His day was, honestly, terrible; one of the worst that's one of the reasons why he snuck in so late tonight.
Because until now, he didn't have the chance to see you and he needs cuddles from you more than he ever has before.
He curled up with you and put his arms around you to hold you tight.
But as he did so, his hand fell to your back, and your eyes flew open at the feeling.
At first, you had no idea that it was him.
The only thing you knew was it was late and dark and someone was in your bed.
You almost screamed but Niki felt you jump and was quick to shush you before you made a sound.
"Shh. Baby, it's just me."
"Nini?" You mumbled sleepily and turned over to face him. "What are you doing here? How did you get into my dorm room?"
"I snuck in through your window." He said.
"You climbed all the way up here?"
"Yeah." He answered as he tangled his legs with yours.
"I don't think you've ever done that before. Are you alright? Not that I'm complaining but it's after two am. Why are you here?"
"I had a very bad day." He sighed as you began to brush your fingertips across his skin. "It was just awful. One of the worst I've had in quite some time. I'm exhausted and I'm so stressed out and I just need some cuddles."
"Oh, niki," you cooed and curled up as close as you could, holding onto him tightly. "I'm so sorry to hear that. I know things have been hard for you lately. I'm more than happy to give you all the cuddles you want."
"Thank you." He spoke softly as he kissed your head.
"Do you want to talk about it? You can tell me anything you want to get off your chest. I'll listen to every word."
"I know you will, my love. But no. I'd rather just hold you. I want to try and forget about the entire day if I can and just hope that tomorrow is better."
"Baby, I'm sure it will be." You said as you played with his hair.
"You deserve the world. I have hope that tomorrow will be a much better day. You deserve it."
"Thank you." He said and for the first time all day, he cracked a real and genuine smile.
"Are you warm? Have some of my blanket." You said and covered him up with your blanket, letting her have as much of it as he wanted.
"The day is over, baby. You're okay now. You're here with me. I've got you."
Your words were so sweet and so comforting and they helped to make him feel so much better.
"You're the best thing that has ever happened to me." He softly spoke as he brushed his fingers across your back. "I don't know what I'd ever do without you. You're so sweet and I'm just so in love with you."
"Niki, I'm so in love with you. You don't ever have to wonder what you'd ever do without me because I'm not going anywhere. Not ever. I promise."
He closed his eyes and let out a long sigh.
Sometimes, those worries creep into his brain.
He just needs you to remind him that you're never leaving.
Because you know he isn't ever either.
"I know it was a bad day but you don't have to worry about a thing anymore. It's all over. It's just us now. I'll cuddle you until the sun comes up. I won't let go."
He smiled for a few seconds, until you put your lips on his and gave her a sweet kiss.
"Get some rest. I love you, angel."
"I love you more, sweet girl." He said and held you tighter as you put your head on his chest and closed your eyes, drifting off to sleep together.
Šchxrry-lv
#âś.enha#enhypen#enha imagines#enha#enha x reader#enha fluff#enha smut#enha niki#enha riki#enha nishimura riki#enhypen x female reader#enhypen niki#enhypen riki#enhypen niki x reader#enhypen x fem reader#niki x reader#ni ki#niki x you#niki x y/n#nishimura riki#riki x reader#riki x you#riki x y/n#riki fluff#niki fluff
1K notes
¡
View notes
Text
Textual Tension
Summary: You accidentally send a very suggestive text to your awkward coworker, and he replies...
Pairing: Spencer Reid x fem!reader
Category: smut (18+), fluff
Warnings/Includes: smut (18+) additional warnings under the cut, awkward tension
Word count: 6.1k
a/n: has anyone ever sent a sext to the wrong person?? i've only ever sent them to my friends on accident and for that i am so thankful
main masterlist
Additional warnings: oral (fem receiving), mild breast play, soft dom spencer
You sit on your bed, the soft glow of your phone illuminating your face as you type out a rather suggestive message to the person you've been casually hooking up with. A smirk tugs at your lips as you hit send, confident that the message will hit its mark.Â
I've been thinking about you⌠Can't stop imagining what I'd do if you were here right now. I want to feel your hands all over me, the way youâd make me moan⌠Letâs make fantasy a reality?
But within seconds, your heart stops as you realize the terrible mistake you've just made.
Youâve sent the message to Spencer.
Spencer.
Your coworker. The brilliant, kind, and awkwardly charming genius who youâve always had a friendly, professional relationship with. And, of course, the one who has been harboring a massive, secret crush on you. A fact that, unbeknownst to you, has led to countless daydreams and wishes that you might feel the same.
The blood drains from your face as you stare at your phone, horrified, praying that somehow the message didnât actually go through, or maybe, just maybe, Spencer wonât read it and will simply delete it. But you know betterâSpencer is meticulous about everything. Of course, heâll read it. Youâre absolutely mortified, every worst-case scenario flashing through your mind.
Meanwhile, in his apartment, Spencer is settling down with a cup of tea, ready to dive into the book heâs been reading. When his phone buzzes, he picks it up absentmindedly, assuming itâs just a work-related message or something mundane. But as he reads the words on the screen, his eyes widen in shock, his breath catching in his throat.
His thoughts run wild, heart pounding as he rereads the text, each time wondering if it could possibly be real. Could you, the person heâs admired from afar for so long, actually want him in the way heâs secretly yearned for? The idea is intoxicating, and before he can second-guess himself, he responds with a message that matches your energy, his pulse quickening at the boldness of it.
Wow⌠I didnât know you were into me like that. Iâve been thinking about you too. If you want, we can definitely make that happen.
The moment you see his reply, your stomach drops. You can't believe this is happening. Youâre completely mortified, your mind spinning with the implications. How could you ever face him again? You donât respond, the fear and embarrassment paralyzing you, leaving you in a state of panic.
The next day at work, youâre a bundle of nerves. Every step you take towards the bullpen feels like youâre walking to your own doom. When you finally arrive, you try to act normal, but the tension is palpable. You canât even bring yourself to make eye contact with Spencer, every interaction feeling like itâs laced with the humiliation of last nightâs mistake.
Spencer, on the other hand, is caught in a whirlwind of emotions. At first, heâs elated, thinking that maybe, just maybe, there was a chance you were into him. But as the day drags on and you remain distant, the excitement turns to confusion, then a sharp sting of rejection. Did he misread the situation? Was it all just a mistake? Heâs left feeling awkward and exposed, unsure of where he stands with you now.
â
The tension between you and Spencer had become a nearly tangible thing, a thread pulled taut between the two of you, ready to snap at any moment. At first, your glances in his direction were purely out of necessityâquick, fleeting looks to gauge his mood, to see if he was as affected by this as you were. But as the days passed, those glances became more frequent, more lingering.
It started innocently enough. Youâd look over and notice how effortlessly his hair seemed to fall into place, the soft waves framing his face in a way that made him look almost ethereal. Youâd never paid much attention before, but now you couldnât help but admire how it suited him, how it added to his charm.
Then, it was his forearms. Youâd catch him pushing up the sleeves of his button-down shirt, revealing the sinewy strength beneath the fabric. There was something about the casual way he did it, the way the muscles in his arms flexed ever so slightly as he worked, that made your heart skip a beat. It was such a simple thing, but it had a profound effect on you, stirring something deep within.
And then there was the way he licked his lips when he was focused, his eyes narrowing slightly as he concentrated on whatever task was in front of him. You couldnât help but imagine what it would be like to have his attention focused solely on you, to feel the intensity of that gaze as he looked at you, not with confusion or uncertainty, but with desire.
The more you noticed these little things, the more conflicted you became. This was Spencerâsweet, brilliant, and awkward Spencer. The idea of seeing him in a different light had never really crossed your mind before, but now⌠now it was all you could think about. The memory of his bold response to your accidental text played on a loop in your mind, taunting you with the possibilities.
What if you responded? What if you stopped overthinking everything and just⌠saw where it could go? The idea terrified you, but it also excited you in a way you hadnât expected. There was something thrilling about the thought of exploring this new dynamic, of seeing if there was something more between you and Spencer than just a shared workspace.
You found yourself daydreaming about it, wondering how he would react if you sent him a message, if you matched the energy of his reply. Would he be as nervous as you were, or would he surprise you with a confidence you hadnât seen before? The thought of it made your pulse quicken, a flush of warmth spreading through you.
But with the excitement came doubt. What if this was a mistake? What if you were reading too much into things, and responding to his text would only make the situation worse? The fear of making things awkward again, of possibly ruining your work life further, held you back. Yet, the thought of doing nothing felt like a missed opportunity, like you were letting something potentially amazing slip through your fingers.
As the day dragged on, you found it harder and harder to focus on your work. Every time you saw Spencer, every time you noticed another little detail about him that you hadnât before, the urge to reach out grew stronger. It was like there was a tug-of-war going on inside you, with one side urging you to take the risk and see what could happen, and the other holding you back out of fear.
Finally, as the workday was winding down, you made a decision. Maybe you were overthinking thisâmaybe it was time to just go for it and see what came of it. After all, Spencer had responded positively, hadnât he? There was a chance, a real chance, that he felt something for you too, something more than just a workplace friendship.
Sitting on your couch with your heart pounding in your chest, you pulled out your phone, your fingers hovering over the keyboard as you debated what to say. You didnât want to be too forward, but you also didnât want to be vague. After a few moments of contemplation, you typed out a message, your hands trembling slightly as you reread it.
Hey, about that text⌠Maybe we should talk. Or⌠you know, not just talk. If youâre still interested.
You hit send before you could second-guess yourself, your heart racing as you watched the message deliver. There was no going back now.
The rest of the evening was a blur of anxiety and anticipation. You couldnât stop thinking about what his response might be, what it could mean for the two of you. When your phone finally buzzed with a new message, you hesitated for just a moment before opening it.
Iâm definitely interested. Letâs talk⌠or not just talk, whenever youâre ready.
The words were simple, but they held so much promise. You couldnât help the smile that spread across your face as you read them, a mixture of relief and excitement flooding your senses. This was happening. You and Spencer were about to cross a line, to explore something new and thrilling.
Just as you were contemplating what to say, how to navigate this sudden and unexpected turn in your relationship, another notification lit up your screen.
Come over? Now?
The message was short, simple, and completely electrifying. It sent a jolt through your system, leaving you momentarily speechless. The implications of it were clearâSpencer wasnât just thinking about this; he was ready to act on it, to turn this accidental confession into something real and immediate.
Your mind raced as you considered what to do next. Just minutes ago, you were agonizing over whether or not to even respond, and now he was inviting you over, as if the decision had already been made. The sheer boldness of his message left you breathless, your heart pounding with a mix of nerves and excitement.
You couldn't help but imagine what it would be likeâshowing up at his place, the air thick with the unspoken tension that had been building between you all day. The thought of being alone with him, of crossing that line from coworkers to something more, sent a thrill through you.
You took a deep breath, your fingers hovering over the keyboard. This was a pivotal moment, and whatever you decided now would set the course for what happened next.
Finally, after what felt like an eternity of internal debate, you typed out a response, your heart racing as you hit send.
I'll be there in 20 minutes.
â
You parked outside Spencerâs apartment building, your heart racing as you took a deep breath to steady yourself. The 20-minute drive had been filled with a whirlwind of thoughts and emotionsâexcitement, anticipation, and a lingering thread of uncertainty. You werenât entirely sure what to expect when you arrived, especially considering how different Spencer had seemed over text compared to how he usually was in person. The Spencer you knew was shy, adorably awkward, and hesitant when it came to personal matters. But his texts had shown a side of him that was bold, confident, and unafraid to take charge.
As you approached his door, your nerves started to get the better of you, but there was no turning back now. You lifted your hand to knock, hesitating for just a moment before finally letting your knuckles rap against the wood. The seconds that followed felt like an eternity, your mind racing with possibilities of how this night could unfold.
When the door finally opened, you were taken aback by the sight that greeted you. Spencer stood there, shirtless, the soft glow of his apartmentâs light highlighting the lean lines of his torso. He wore nothing but a pair of low-hanging gray sweatpants, the waistband slung low on his hips, revealing a tantalizing glimpse of the defined muscles and trail of hair beneath. His hair was slightly tousled, as if heâd run his hands through it moments before opening the door, and his eyes, usually filled with a mix of curiosity and gentle kindness, now held a smoldering intensity that you had never seen before.
For a moment, you couldnât find the words, your breath catching in your throat as you took in the sight of him. This wasnât the Spencer you were used toâthis was the man who had responded to your accidental text with a confidence that had both surprised and intrigued you. The awkward, hesitant Spencer you knew seemed to have taken a backseat, making way for someone who knew exactly what he wanted.
And what he wanted, it seemed, was you.
He leaned casually against the doorframe, a small, knowing smile playing on his lips as he watched your reaction. There was a heat in his gaze, a silent challenge that dared you to step inside, to see just how far this newfound confidence could take him.
âHey,â he greeted, his voice low and smooth, sending a shiver down your spine. âIâm glad you came.â
You swallowed hard, trying to gather your thoughts, but the sight of him standing there like thatâso effortlessly confident, so unapologetically enticingâmade it difficult to think of anything but the rush of desire that was quickly building within you.
âHey,â you managed to reply, your voice a little breathless. âYou⌠uh, look different.â
Spencerâs smile widened slightly, his eyes never leaving yours as he stepped aside to let you in. âWell I should hope so,â he said, his tone teasing, but with an underlying seriousness that sent your heart racing even faster.
You stepped inside, feeling the warmth of his apartment wrap around you as the door clicked shut behind you. The atmosphere between you was charged, electric, every moment filled with unspoken possibilities. Spencer moved closer, his presence almost overwhelming in its intensity. The scent of himâa mix of something clean and masculineâfilled your senses, making you even more acutely aware of the heat radiating from his skin.
âIâve been thinking,â Spencer began, his voice soft yet steady, as he reached out to gently brush a strand of hair behind your ear. âAbout what was said...â
Your breath hitched at the light touch, your skin tingling where his fingers had just been. You nodded, not trusting yourself to speak, afraid that your voice might betray just how much his presence was affecting you.
âI donât want this to be awkward,â he continued, his eyes searching yours for any sign of hesitation. âBut I also donât want to pretend that nothingâs changed⌠because it has.â
He was rightâeverything had changed. The air between you was thick with tension, with the unspoken acknowledgment of what you both wanted but were too nervous to voice. And yet, here he was, standing so close, shirtless and confident, laying it all out in front of you.
Taking a deep breath, you finally found your voice. âSo⌠what happens next?â
Spencerâs lips quirked up into a small, almost mischievous smile. âI think that depends on what you want.â
His words hung in the air between you, a challenge and an invitation all at once. You could feel the pull, the magnetic attraction drawing you closer to him, and in that moment, you knew there was no turning back.
With a boldness you hadnât known you possessed, you stepped even closer, your body nearly brushing against his as you tilted your head up to meet his gaze. âI want to find out what happens when we stop pretending.â
The last remnants of hesitation melted away as Spencerâs smile turned into something moreâsomething hungry and determined. His hands slid around your waist, pulling you flush against him as his lips descended on yours in a kiss that was anything but hesitant. It was fierce, consuming, a release of all the tension that had been building between you.
As his hands roamed your back, pulling you closer still, you couldnât help but think that maybe, just maybe, you had only begun to scratch the surface of the side of Spencer Reid you were about to discover tonight.
The world around you blurred as Spencerâs lips moved against yours, his kiss deepening with every passing second. Time seemed to lose all meaning as you lost yourself in the warmth of his touch, the taste of his lips, and the way his hands gripped your waist with a possessiveness that sent a shiver down your spine. It felt like you had been kissing for an eternity, and yet when he finally pulled back, you found yourself gasping for breath, your mind spinning, and your body aching for more.
Spencerâs eyes locked onto yours, dark and intense, filled with a heat that made your pulse quicken. Without saying a word, he took your hand, his grip firm yet gentle, leading you down the hall towards his bedroom. The anticipation thrummed in your veins, every step heightening the tension between you. But just as you reached the doorway, Spencer suddenly stopped, turning to press you against the doorframe. His lips found the sensitive skin of your neck, trailing kisses that made your knees weaken and your breath hitch.
You barely had time to process the sensation before he pulled back again, a playful gleam in his eyes as he gently but firmly guided you into the bedroom. With a swift motion, he pushed you onto the bed, and you bounced slightly, a surprised giggle escaping your lips. The unexpected shift in his demeanorâthis newfound confidence, this playful dominanceâleft you both intrigued and a little off-balance. Youâd known Spencer as the quiet, reserved, and somewhat shy genius, but this side of him was something entirely different, and you couldnât help but be captivated by it.
As you lay there, still trying to wrap your head around this change, you found yourself blurting out a question that had been lingering in the back of your mind. âDo you do this a lot, Reid?â
Spencer chuckled, the sound low and deep, sending a ripple of warmth through your body. He shook his head with a smile that was equal parts reassuring and teasing. âNo, not ever really,â he admitted, his voice soft but steady, as he reached for your ankles and pulled you closer to the edge of the bed, positioning himself between your legs. His hands rested on your thighs, the warmth of his touch seeping through your clothes, grounding you in the moment.
âCall me Spencer,â he added, his voice dropping to a near-whisper, his gaze locking onto yours with a mixture of vulnerability and determination. There was something intimate about the way he said it, as if this wasnât just about physical attraction, but about letting you see a side of him that no one else had.Â
Your heart skipped a beat at the request, the simple act of calling him by his first name in this context making the moment feel even more personal, more real.Â
âSpencer,â you repeated, the name slipping from your lips like a secret, a promise. His smile widened, a spark of something almost wicked flashing in his eyes, and you realized that you were about to discover a side of him that youâd never imagined existed.
Spencer leaned in, his hands sliding up your thighs, his breath hot against your ear as he whispered, âIâve been wanting this for a long time, you know. I just never thoughtâŚâ He trailed off, as if realizing that words werenât enough to express what he was feeling. Instead, he captured your lips with his again, his kiss searing and insistent, as though he were making up for lost time.
Spencer's hands, warm and steady, slowly trailed up your sides, his fingers grazing the soft fabric of your t-shirt as they moved. When he reached the hem, he hesitated, his touch gentle but deliberate as he curled his fingers around the edge. He looked up at you, his expression a mix of desire and tenderness, but there was something else tooâa careful consideration, a need to ensure that you were just as willing as he was.
âCan I take this off?â he asked, his voice a low rumble that sent a shiver down your spine. The intensity of his gaze held you captive, his eyes searching yours for the reassurance he needed.
For a moment, you were too caught up in the heat of the moment to respond, your heart pounding in your chest. The way he looked at you, with such raw want and yet so much care, made it hard to think clearly. You nodded quickly, your eyes wide with anticipation, but Spencer didnât move.
His grip on your shirt tightened slightly as he leaned in, his breath hot against your ear as he whispered, âIâm going to need you to use your words, sweetheart.â
The way he said itâhis voice rough, almost gritted out with barely restrained desireâmade your head spin, the sheer force of his need for you sending your pulse into overdrive. There was a command in his tone, but also a gentle reminder that this was your choice, that he needed to hear you say it.
You swallowed hard, your voice catching in your throat as you tried to find the words. The air around you felt thick with tension, every second stretching out as you stared up at him, the look in his eyes making it impossible to deny himâor yourself.
âYeâyes, please,â you finally managed to say, your voice a little breathless, but full of the same want that you saw reflected in his eyes.
Spencerâs eyes darkened with satisfaction at your response, a small, almost predatory smile tugging at the corners of his lips as he began to lift your shirt. The fabric slid up your torso slowly, the cool air of the room hitting your skin as he revealed more of you. He took his time, savoring the moment, his eyes never leaving yours as he pulled the shirt over your head and tossed it aside.
For a brief moment, you felt exposed, vulnerable under the weight of his gaze. But the way Spencer looked at you, with a mixture of awe and hunger, made all your insecurities melt away. His hands roamed over the newly exposed skin, his touch both soothing and electrifying, leaving a trail of warmth in its wake.
âYouâre so beautiful,â he murmured, his voice thick with sincerity and desire, as he leaned in to press a kiss to your collarbone, his lips lingering against your skin.
You had forgone a bra that night, thinking nothing of it when you slipped into your comfy clothes after a long day at work. After all, you hadnât planned on anything like this happening. But now, with Spencerâs hands on you, his eyes filled with something that looked a lot like awe, you found that you didnât care in the slightest. If anything, it added to the intimacy of the moment, the rawness of it, making you feel closer to him than you ever thought possible.
His touch was slow, deliberate, almost as if he was savoring every moment, every reaction he elicited from you. His fingers brushed over your skin, exploring you with curiosity and desire, as if he was trying to learn every detail, every response, to what he was doing. When his hands cupped your breasts, his thumbs brushing over your nipples, you couldnât suppress the soft gasp that escaped your lips, your body arching towards him instinctively, craving more of his touch.
âSpencerâŚâ you breathed, your voice barely more than a whisper, but filled with so much emotion that it felt like a confession. There was something in his name, in the way it rolled off your tongue, that made the moment feel even more intimate, more real. It wasnât just a name anymoreâit was a declaration, an acknowledgment of what was happening between you, of the connection that was quickly forming.
Spencerâs eyes flicked back up to yours, the intensity of his gaze making your heart race even faster. There was something almost primal in the way he looked at you now, a hunger that was barely restrained, but also a tenderness that made your chest tighten with emotion. He leaned in, his lips hovering just above yours, his breath warm against your skin as he whispered, âYou have no idea how long Iâve wanted this⌠how long Iâve wanted you.â
His words sent a shiver down your spine, your body reacting to the sheer weight of them. It wasnât just lust in his voiceâit was something deeper, something that made you feel cherished, desired in a way that you hadnât felt in a long time. The realization that Spencer had been holding back, that he had wanted you for so long, made your heart swell with emotion, your need for him growing even stronger.
He kissed you again, his lips capturing yours in a way that was both gentle and demanding, his hands continuing their exploration of your body. Each touch, each caress, was filled with passion and care, as if he was trying to show you just how much you meant to him without needing to say the words. And with every kiss, every brush of his fingertips, you found yourself falling deeper into the moment, your own desire for him becoming overwhelming.
You reached up, your hands finding purchase on his shoulders, pulling him closer, needing to feel the heat of his body against yours. The way he responded, the way his hands gripped you tighter, as if afraid to let go, made it clear that he was just as lost in the moment as you were. There was no more hesitation, no more awkwardnessâjust the two of you, finally giving in to the feelings that had been simmering beneath the surface for so long.
Spencerâs hands were warm against your skin as he gently laid you back on the bed, his eyes never leaving yours as he hovered above you. The intensity in his gaze was almost overwhelming, his pupils blown wide with desire, but there was something else there tooâcuriosity, maybe even a hint of vulnerability. His fingers trailed down your sides, the touch sending shivers through your body as he slowly leaned in, his lips brushing against the soft skin of your chest.
âTell me, Y/NâŚâ His voice was a low murmur, filled with an edge of something deeper, as he kissed his way down your chest, taking his time, savoring the feel of your skin beneath his lips. âDid you think about me too?â
The question hung in the air, making your breath hitch as you squirmed beneath him, the sensation of his kisses igniting a fire deep within you. Your mind was spinning, every nerve in your body on high alert as you felt his breath ghost over your skin, his lips moving lower, leaving a trail of warmth in their wake.
âI did,â you admitted, your voice a little breathless as the confession slipped out. It was the truth, after allâyou had thought about him, more than you ever wanted to admit. The idea of Spencer, sweet, awkward Spencer, being the one to push you to this point had always been a secret fantasy, buried deep within you. But now, with him here, in this moment, it was no longer just a fantasyâit was real.
Spencerâs lips curved into a smirk against your skin as he reached your hip, his teeth nipping playfully at the delicate flesh, making you gasp. The sensation was a mix of pleasure and surprise, and you couldnât help but arch your back slightly in response. His hands moved to your shorts, his fingers hooking into the waistband as he tugged them down slowly, teasingly, his eyes flicking up to meet yours as he did.
âThat text wasnât for me though, was it?â he asked, his voice laced with amusement as he watched your reaction. The smirk on his face was something youâd never seen beforeâconfident, almost cocky, as if he knew exactly the effect he was having on you.
You froze for a moment, your heart skipping a beat as the realization hit you. You hadnât expected him to catch on to that detail, but of course he hadâSpencer was nothing if not observant. The thought that he knew the text wasnât meant for him, but was still here, still wanting you, made your pulse quicken even more.
âUh, no, it wasnât,â you admitted with a whine, the words slipping out before you could stop them. There was no point in lyingânot when he was looking at you like that, his gaze full of heat and understanding. âBut Iâm glad I sent it to you,â you added quickly, your voice filled with sincerity and a hint of desperation.
Spencerâs smirk softened into a small, almost tender smile as he leaned in, his lips brushing against your navel. âMaybe your subconscious wanted you to,â he suggested, his voice low and smooth, each word making your head spin. The idea made you dizzy, the thought that some part of you had always wanted this, had always wanted him, even if you hadnât fully realized it until now.
âUh huh,â you breathed out, your voice floaty and airy, your mind clouded with desire. The sensation of his lips on your skin, his hands on your body, was intoxicating, making it hard to think clearly. All you could focus on was the way he made you feelâalive, wanted, and completely lost in the moment.
Spencerâs fingers continued to work on removing your shorts, sliding them down your legs with deliberate slowness, his eyes never leaving yours. There was something almost worshipful in the way he touched you, as if he was savoring every second, every inch of skin he revealed.
As he finally discarded your shorts, leaving you completely exposed to him, he took a moment to just look at you, his gaze filled with a mix of desire and admiration. âYouâre perfect,â he murmured, his voice thick with emotion as he leaned in to press a kiss to the inside of your thigh, his lips lingering there for a moment longer than necessary.
The words made your heart swell, a wave of warmth washing over you as you reached out, your fingers tangling in his hair. There was nothing left to hide now, nothing left to hold back. This was exactly where you wanted to beâwhere you were meant to be.
âDo you always skip out on bras and panties, Y/N?â Spencerâs teasing comment sent a ripple of laughter through you, the sound mingling with the rapid beat of your heart. The playful banter between you only intensified the electric connection that was already sparking between you both. His bite on your inner thigh was both a tease and a promise, igniting a fire that made every nerve in your body come alive.
âNâno, only at home,â you managed to scream out, the sensation sending waves of pleasure coursing through you. The combination of his touch and the vulnerability of the moment made it impossible to hold back any longer.
He chuckled, the sound deep and resonant, echoing softly in the room as his fingers continued to explore your skin. âBut you didnât put any on before coming over?â His tone was light, yet there was an undeniable edge of desire that underpinned his words.
You took a moment to catch your breath, the playful challenge in his eyes urging you to respond. âAre youâare you complaining?â you asked, your voice wavering between breathless laughter and the growing urgency of your emotions.
Spencer shook his head, a mischievous glint in his eyes. âNot at all, althoughââ His sentence was cut short as your hands found their way into his hair, pulling him fully into you. The sudden, decisive movement left no room for hesitation, and the world seemed to narrow down to just the two of you, entwined in each otherâs embrace.
âOh my god, Spencer, just shut up,â you laughed, the sound filled with a mixture of amusement and desire. âPut your mouth to use.â
His response was immediate, his lips finding your core with a fervor that matched the intensity of your own longing. The way he ate you out was everything you had been waiting forâpassionate, deep, and downright filthy. His hands left their place on your thighs, tracing the contours of your body with a reverence that made you feel both cherished and desired.
As he sunk his mouth deeper, sucking your clit into his mouth, Spencer guided you gently but firmly onto the bed, the softness of the sheets a stark contrast to the heat that radiated between you.
âSpencer,â you moaned, the name slipping out like a sacred vow, sealing the moment between you. His response was a dirty smile, his mouth shining with your juices, making your pulse throb.
He paused for a moment, just enough to look into your eyes, âYouâre fucking delicious,â he murmured, his voice thick with lust. âIâve wanted to taste you for so long.â
As Spencerâs mouth continued to work its magic on your core, a whirlwind of sensations overwhelmed you. Each touch, each stroke of his tongue, sent waves of pleasure radiating through your body, making it nearly impossible to focus on anything but the intense feeling of being completely consumed by him. The way he moved, so skilled yet so attentive to your every reaction, left you breathless, your hands clutching at the sheets as your head swam in a sea of ecstasy.
But amidst the pleasure, a fleeting thought crossed your mindâhow close you had come to letting this moment, this incredible opportunity, slip through your fingers. You couldnât believe that you had almost dismissed the idea of responding to his bold text, that you had almost let fear and hesitation keep you from experiencing this side of Spencer. A side that was confident, passionate, and utterly devoted to your pleasure.
How could you have been so close to missing out on this? On him? Spencer, who had always been there, quiet and thoughtful, had somehow managed to unlock a part of you that you hadnât even known existedâa part that craved the connection and intimacy he was now offering with every caress of his lips.
You let out a soft moan, your hips arching towards him as the pleasure built to an almost unbearable level. The sounds you made only seemed to spur him on, his grip on your thighs tightening as he pulled you closer, his tongue working with a precision that left you teetering on the edge. Every nerve in your body was alive, the world narrowing down to the feel of his mouth on you, the heat of his breath against your skin.
âSpencer,â you gasped out, your voice trembling with the intensity of your emotions. It wasnât just the pleasure he was giving youâit was the realization that this was Spencer, the man you had known for so long, who was now showing you a depth of care and passion that you had never imagined.
The way he responded to your every movement, the way he seemed to know exactly what you needed, made you feel cherished in a way that went far beyond the physical. It was as if he was attuned to your very soul, using his touch to communicate something deeper, something that had been building between you for far longer than either of you had realized.
As you felt the tension within you coil tighter and tighter, ready to snap, you couldnât help but marvel at how easily you had fallen into this moment with him. All the hesitation, the uncertainty, had melted away, leaving only the pure, unfiltered connection between you and Spencer. A connection that had been there all along, waiting for the right moment to be brought to life.
And now that it had, you knew you could never go back to the way things were. Spencer had opened a door to something new, something beautiful, and you were ready to step through it with him, no matter what the future held.
With a final, skillful flick of his tongue over your clit, Spencer sent you tumbling over the edge, your body trembling with the force of your release. The world around you seemed to dissolve into a haze of pleasure and warmth, your mind barely able to process the overwhelming sensations that flooded through you.
As you came down from the high, Spencerâs hands and mouth softened, his touch becoming gentle, almost reverent, as he coaxed you through the aftershocks. When he finally pulled back, he looked up at you, his eyes filled with a mixture of pride and tenderness that made your heart skip a beat.
âIâm so glad youâre here,â he murmured, his voice soft but filled with a sincerity that left no doubt about how much this moment meant to him. He crawled up the bed to join you, his body pressing against yours as he captured your lips in a slow, languid kiss, allowing you to taste the remnants of your own pleasure on his lips.
You smiled against his lips, a sense of contentment and excitement washing over you as you whispered, âIâm glad Iâm here too, Spencer. So glad.â
---------------------------------------------------------------------------
tag list <333 @dirtytissuebox @yokaimoon @khxna @noelliece @dreamsarebig @sleepey-looney @cocobean16 @placidus @criminalmindssworld @lilu842 @greatoperawombategg @charismatic-writer @fxoxo @hearts4spensco @furrybouquettrash @kathrynlakestone @chaneladdicted @time-himself @mentallyunwellsposts @sapph1re @idefktbh17 @gilwm @reggieswriter @loumouse @spencerreidsreads @i-live-in-spite @fanfic-viewer @bootylovers44 @atheniandrinkscoffee @niktwazny303 @dead-universe @hbwrelic @kniselle
#criminal minds#doctor spencer reid#dr spencer reid#spencer reid#spencer reid fanfiction#spencer reid fic#spencer reid x reader#bau team#spencer reid fluff#bau family#spencer reid criminal minds#spencer reid imagine#spencer reid one shot#spencer reid smut#criminal minds fandom#spencer reid x you#spencer reid x self insert#spencer reid x y/n#criminal minds x reader#criminal minds fanfic#criminal minds fanfiction#criminal minds fluff#criminal minds smut#bau x reader#bau
2K notes
¡
View notes
Text
The Best Worst Day Ever
Pairing: Bucky Barnes x female reader
Word Count: 3.4K
Summary: You're having a shit day but then you see a dog and things start looking up...
Author's Note: We love a soft and sweet Bucky and dogs and bookstores and cookies and kisses- so here we are! Hope you enjoy, thank you all so much for reading! Much love always! â¤ď¸â¤ď¸â¤ď¸The two bookstores I mention can be found here (Spoonbill and Sugartown) and here (Albertine Books). Divider by the lovely @firefly-graphics thank you Daisy! đĽ°
Warnings: a cute dog, Bucky saves the day (a few times), cookies, soft fluff, building tension, books
![Tumblr media](https://64.media.tumblr.com/86c8ffc3de943e77e120aee7c1014ce7/ce3004f1e95e7283-d9/s540x810/46a4ded9f97a00b3c0ca784fbb41a38cc8bc37e9.jpg)
âYou will not believe the day I had.â
You practically sigh the words into the phone, feeling at least slightly better at the sound of your best friends voice.
âTell me everything,â she says.
You start to recap your shitty day but a large fluff of black fur across the street catches your eye.
âOh my godâŚ,â you start, completely derailing your previous thought. âThere is this giant black dog across the street. I have to go pet it.â
Your best friend laughs, âof course you do,â and you can feel yourself start to form a real smile for the first time today.
âIâll call you back,â you tell her.
âYou got it,â she answers, not even questioning your behavior.
You start to cross the street, giving a quick glance in both directions before breaking into a jog. Youâre just about to call out to the old man to ask if his dog is friendly, when you hear the screech of tires.
Your heart drops and your body instinctively reacts but all you feel is the whoosh of air that whips past you and a set of strong arms wrapped around your waist.
For a few long seconds you simply breathe, clinging to the solid warmth of whatever is holding you up.
âAre you ok doll?â
The voice is soft but deep and you look towards it, blinking against the bright sun, wondering for a moment if the car hit you and youâre dead and in fact, now in heaven.
Your fingers dig into soft leather as you stare at one of the most beautiful men youâve ever seen.
âAm I dead?â
Bright blue eyes peer down at you, the corners lightly crinkling at your question. His gaze wanders over your face, his expression seeming to waver between awe and concern.
âNo, Iâve got you. But are you ok?â
His words draw your attention to his mouth. Blinking again and trying to clear your head you finally manage to answer him.
âIâŚI donât think soâŚI just wanted to pet the dog.â
His perfect lips curl up into a teasing smile and you have to drag your eyes away to focus on his blue ones. But the fact that youâre pressed against his solid chest and encased in the warmth of his arms does nothing to help your concentration.
With a slight tremble you start to sit up, but he doesnât release you from his hold. He just moves with you and helps you to stand.
Once he feels youâre steady enough on your feet he removes his hands but stays close, clearly not convinced youâre fine.
You let out a shaky exhale and smooth your hands over yourself.
âThat was so scary.â
You can feel the warmth of tears spring to your eyes and your vision starts to blur. He reaches out a gentle hand and places it on your arm.
âIâm sure it was. And while we could stay here I think it would be best to get out of the middle of the street. Why donât we go sit?â Â
He points to the bench on the sidewalk where the old man with the dog stands and watches.
As you approach the old man asks, âitâs a good thing this young man was here to save you. I could never move that fast.â
You glance at the âyoung man,â and he extends the hand that doesnât have a secure hold on your arm to greet you.
âBucky. Bucky Barnes.â
âThank you Bucky,â you say and then give him your name.
âIs she ok?â the old man asks Bucky.
âI think sheâs gonna be fine,â Bucky says with a reassuring smile.
Bucky helps you onto the bench and as the dog moves closer, tail wagging, you blurt out in a rush, âcan I please pet your dog?â
âSure,â the old man says. âSheâs very friendly.â
âWhatâs her name?â Bucky asks, as he kneels down to put his hand out for the dog to smell.
âLuna,â the old man replies, sitting down next to you on the bench.
You reach for Luna, letting her smell you before scratching her ears and leaning down to press your face into her soft fur.
Your focus stays on the dog until your heartbeat returns to normal, the conversation between Bucky and the old man lingering quietly in the background.
After a few more steadying breaths you thank the old man and Bucky helps him to stand, watching as he takes slow and small steps away from you, Luna in tow but still looking back at you.
Bucky stands and offers you his hand; strong and slightly clammy, and sparks fly, a curious look flitting across his stunning face as you both react to the touch. You fix your gaze on him and finally give yourself a chance to look. Your heart starts to crash against your chest all over again. You just sit there, staring.
Heâs tall and the soft henley he wears beneath his leather jacket is fitted so that you can see the outline of the muscles in his chest. His eyes are the most beautiful blue, and the stubble covering his strong jaw does nothing to conceal the handsome features beneath it.
He smiles softly and for a moment you think you see his cheeks turn a light shade of pink at your obvious examination. Heâs still holding onto your hand, and suddenly, seeming to come to his senses, he releases it and smooths his palm over his hair and then the back of his neck.
You feel a flush of heat move through you.
âYouâre sure youâre ok doll?â
You nod.
âShe should probably eat something.â
At the old manâs gruff voice both you and Bucky startle and turn to see him standing just a few feet away, a knowing smile on his face. Obviously, he didnât get very far.
âHe deserves a date for savinâ your life there young lady.â
With a decisive nod he dismisses you and Bucky and calls to Luna to finally continue on his way.
You feel Buckyâs eyes on you, and you look back up at him from your seat.
âFood?â you ask quietly.
âLetâs go,â he answers, his easy smile returning. âI know just the place.â
The butterflies stay firmly planted in the pit of your empty stomach and you stand so abruptly that you teeter forward and into his arms again. He catches you with two hands splayed at your waist and the urge to bury your heated face against his chest is overwhelming.
âIâm really having a day,â you mutter. âIâm sorry.â
âNothing to apologize for. Iâm just happy Iâm here to help.â
âMe too,â you whisper.
He falls into an easy stride beside you and a huff of laughter falls from your lips before you say, âI canât believe I almost died trying to pet a dog.â
âI get it,â Bucky says, throwing you a wink.
Youâre careful with your footing, still somewhat shaky from the whole ordeal but when your attention turns back to Bucky, his eyes trailing across your face, seeming to linger on your mouth before lifting to your eyes, you stumble, your foot catching a crack in the sidewalk.
He grabs your bicep to steady you, and you groan. âShit, you must think Iâm hopeless.â
âThat personâs driving skills having nothing to do with you,â he assures you as he gently leads you toward the restaurant. âAnd everyone likes to pet dogsâŚor at least they should.â
His voice is gentle, and you avoid his gaze, his hand still curled securely around your arm as you come to stop outside the restaurant.
He only letâs go to open the door and usher you in with a soft press of his hand to your lower back.
The flutter of butterflies that you keep trying to ignore are back in full force and when Bucky stops at a table and pulls out the chair for you the gesture has you feeling faint.
You must be starved.
With a monumental effort to relax you sit back in the chair and cross your legs. His gaze automatically flickers downward and be visibly swallows before quickly looking away.
Thereâs a definite blush on the tops of his cheeks now.
âThe pizza here is really good.â His voice sounds extra rumbly, maybe even a little hoarse.
You pick up a menu and start to fan yourself without even thinking. âIâm sure it is.â
âDo you live close by?â you ask him.
âJust a few blocks away. Iâm here all the time.â
Before you can ask any more questions, an older woman appears beside your table with a beaming smile.
âBarnes has finally showed up with a girl!â she sings. âAnd a beauty at that.â
You hide your giggle behind the menu and peer at Bucky.
âThis is Millie,â he says, his smile wide. âShe owns the place and loves to bust my chops.â
You introduce yourself, delighted and Millieâs warmth.
âAre you having the usual?â Millie asks Bucky.
He nods and looks to you.
âIâll have whatever heâs having,â you tell Millie.
âI like her already,â Millie says before rushing back off to the kitchen.
Bucky sits forward, his arms crossed in front of him and now that heâs taken off his leather jacket there is more of him to admire.
His blue eyes are focused entirely on you, and you try not to blurt out your thoughts about how nice his biceps looked in his shirt so instead you clamp your mouth shut and look around the cozy space.
You fall into easy conversation and when the food comes the silence is comfortable while you eagerly eat it, not realizing how hungry you really are.
After your stomach is full, Bucky pays the bill, even after you offered several times, pleading with him that you owed him at least that after saving your life.
He waves you off and hands Millie the cash then holds his hand out for yours.
At the feel of his skin tension immediately springs between you, and you scramble to think of something to say.
He beats you to it.
âWhat are your plans for the weekend?â
Grateful for the distraction, you reply, âwell, I usually spend my Saturday afternoons at this little bookshop in my neighborhood.â
âIs it Spoonbill and Sugartown?â
Your eyes widen and light up.
âYES! You know it?â
âI do. I used to go all the time. Havenât been in a while though. I love the smell of the old books.â
A rush of attraction sweeps over you like a wave and your hand squeezes his.
âYou could meet me there tomorrow? If youâre not busy?â
âYeah. Iâd love that,â he says, grabbing the door and holding it open so you can exit the restaurant.
âWhich way are you?â he asks, still holding your hand.
You point right toward Bedford Avenue.
âCome on, Iâll walk ya home doll.â
âIs it out of your way? I donât want to take up any more of your time.â
He chuckles before leaning down to press a quick, surprising kiss to your cheek.
âNah, itâs not and I really donât mind.â
![Tumblr media](https://64.media.tumblr.com/86c8ffc3de943e77e120aee7c1014ce7/ce3004f1e95e7283-d9/s540x810/46a4ded9f97a00b3c0ca784fbb41a38cc8bc37e9.jpg)
You are in love.
Inside the old bookstore, with its vaulted ceilings and shafts of light pouring through the skylights, you stare at the rows and rows of bookshelves.
Through the aisles there is something to catch the eye at every turn. Not just books, but interesting and antique Tiffany lamps and various knick knacks that make you smile. Reading areas are set up in breaks between the shelves, tables with chairs so people can lounge, read, and drink their coffee and eat their desserts.
You let out a contented sigh. On purpose, you arrived a bit early, hoping the familiarity and comfort of the store would calm the persistent butterflies that have taken up a permanent residence in your stomach since your literal run in with Bucky.
As youâre falling deeper under the spell of the leather lined bindings and dusty-smelling pages a soft voice calls your name.
You look up and see Bucky standing at the end of the aisle. Heâs dressed casually but different from yesterday, his dark jeans fitted to his muscular thighs and his black tee shirt showing off those perfect arms and chest.
He steps closer and greets you with another kiss to your cheek, this time, closer to the corner of your mouth.
You close your eyes briefly, inhaling his scent and steadying yourself on your feet. Before you can actually swoon to the floor you tell him about the expansion they recently built in the back with a rush of enthusiastic words.
Taking his hand, you lead him to the new section, practically running.
Laughing at your overexcitement, he squeezes your hand.
âYouâre very cute.â
When you turn to look at him, something in his eyes makes your skin heat and you have to look away again, but not before you give him a thankful smile.
You expect him to let go of your hand once you reach the back, but he doesnât.
âHave you ever been to Albertine Books?â he asks.
You stop and think.
âNo, I donât think Iâve even heard of it.â
âItâs easy to miss,â he explains. âItâs inside the French Embassy and has mostly French language books and translations from French into English, but itâs gorgeous.â
âReally?â you say with uninhibited joy. âWill you take me there sometime?â
Youâre too busy deciding which part of the expanded bookstore you want to show him first to see his expression, but you hear the affection in his tone when he replies, âIâll take you anywhere you want to go, doll.â
Your heart flutters.
Your hand gets clammy, and you gently pull it away, trying to use the shelves and the books lining them to refocus yourself.
He stays with you, content to watch you peruse the bindings, moving from bookshelf to bookshelf.
The book titles quickly become a blur as your awareness zeroes in on one thing, one person.
Bucky.
You feel the warmth of his presence, hovering at your back, and feel the heat of his gaze on your face. The skin on your cheek tingles and you can still feel the press of his lips.
Your breathing grows shallower as his fingertips brush against the small of your back, a gentle touch, but searing through your clothes.
Busy frantically pondering how to navigate the chemistry you share; you donât realize the book you halt in front of until itâs too late.
A romance novel with a couple in a sexy position on the cover.
Just perfect.
His fingertips press deeper against your lower back, and then you feel the whisper of his lips on your ear as he comments, âinteresting choice.â
You make the mistake of turning your head toward his and find his nose just inches from yours.
Your eyes lock for a second before his gazes drops to your mouth. Your body sways slightly toward his, and he takes the movement as an invitation, his head dipping those last few inches.
âExcuse me.â
A voice, loud and close, jolts you away from Bucky, whose mouth had just been millimeters from touching yours.
âI justâŚwant that book.â An arm reaches between you and Bucky, and dazed, you look over to see a woman. She seems unfazed by the fact that she clearly interrupted a moment, and you grab the book for her.
She gives you a thin lipped smiled and darts away.
After a second or two of staring after her, you finally draw up the courage to meet Buckyâs eyes.
His cheeks are pink again and heâs rubbing his palm on his jeans.
Looking over his shoulder you spot the coffee and dessert counter.
âOoh!â you say, hurrying towards it. âLetâs get a cookie!â
Bucky follows and you turn to him, smiling through the awkwardness.
âYou have to try the double chocolate chip.â
He bends down to peer into the display case. Your eyes meet, and just like that youâre too close for your body to handle. You swallow hard.
âItâs delicious. And the chunks of chocolate are gooey.â
His eyes are trained on your mouth as he murmurs, âmaybe we should get two.â
âGood idea. I can eat a whole one easily on my own. We might even need three.â
You sound breathless.
âHm.â Heâs not even listening to your words at this point. His focus is on your lips, his eyes are hooded, and he is definitely going to attempt to kiss you again.
âWhat can I get for you?â the worker behind the counter asks, smiling brightly when the two of you jerk your heads up.
âFour double chocolate chip cookies,â Bucky blurts out, then follows with a soft, âplease and thanks.â
Once you have your cookies in your hand you head to one of the back tables and sit, stuffing nearly the whole cookie in your mouth.
Itâs so good that for a moment you forget yourself and moan around the bite.
Bucky clears his throat, and you lock eyes. His reaches across the table, his strong fingertips gripping your chin, and he bends his head toward yours. He halts when heâs close enough that you can see the patches of gray in his beard and feel his warm breath fan your cheek.
With the softest brush of his calloused thumb, he wipes away some chocolate from your bottom lip.
âHad a little chocolate smudge right there,â he whispers.
You slowly nod and your tongue darts out to lick your lips. His eyes track the movement, and he releases you, biting into half of his own cookie.
âThese really are amazing,â he says around the mouthful.
You nod again, too flustered for words.
![Tumblr media](https://64.media.tumblr.com/86c8ffc3de943e77e120aee7c1014ce7/ce3004f1e95e7283-d9/s540x810/46a4ded9f97a00b3c0ca784fbb41a38cc8bc37e9.jpg)
The two of you eat all four cookies and despite wanting to distract yourself with more you leave the bookstore and let him walk you home once again.
When you stop outside your building you fiddle with your hands and look anywhere but at him.
âI had the best time,â he says, drawing your attention.
âMe too,â you say quietly.
âWhen can I take you to Albertine Books?â he asks, as he takes a tentative step closer.
âTomorrow?â
Itâs a hopeful question. One you couldnât stop yourself from asking even if you wanted to.
âIâd love that doll.â
A deep tug low in your belly makes you bite your lip. You love the use of that endearment and after spending most of the afternoon so close to him youâre nearly at your wits end.
His gaze fixes on yours and his jaw tightens at whatever he sees in your expression then he closes the distance and slides his arms around you, his hands coasting slowly up your back.
He lifts a hand to your cheek, sweeping his thumb across your soft skin and splaying his hand to draw you closer.
âIf someone interrupts us this timeâŚâ he says, tone full of warning but still teasing.
âHonestly, I wouldnât even notice if there was a dog nearby for me to pet,â you say with a smile.
He laughs and bumps your nose with his.
âNot even a dog huh?â                                                                                  Â
You shake your head, and your eyes start to close as your hands grasp the front of his shirt. You feel the heat of his breath first, the warning before his lips touch yours. And when they do, itâs barely a brush, a hot, glancing touch.
Your fingers close more tightly around the fabric of his shirt, silently urging him to really kiss you. Youâre desperate for it.
Another whisper of a of kiss, then a slightly deeper press, a nibble on your lower lip. A whimper escapes you.
It shatters whatever restraint heâs grounded himself with and his hand splayed at your back hauls you against his body as his mouth presses to yours.
You open your mouth to let him in, and his groan of satisfaction rumbles through you. The tickle of his scruffy jaw is rough in the just the way youâd hoped it would be and when you feel the slide of his hands down your back, the smooth strength of him under your touch, you completely melt into the kiss and the rest of the world fades away.
![Tumblr media](https://64.media.tumblr.com/86c8ffc3de943e77e120aee7c1014ce7/ce3004f1e95e7283-d9/s540x810/46a4ded9f97a00b3c0ca784fbb41a38cc8bc37e9.jpg)
#bucky barnes#bucky barnes x reader#bucky barnes x you#bucky barnes fanfiction#bucky barnes x y/n#bucky barnes x female reader#bucky barnes imagine#bucky x reader#sebastian stan#sebastian stan x reader#bookshop#dogs#cookies#bucky barns x reader
473 notes
¡
View notes
Text
"What is a dealbreaker in a relationship with bllk boys?"
Characters : Isagi Yoichi, Karasu Tabito, Itoshi Rin, Hiori Yo
Note : thank you for the ask once again, i had fun doing this, I might do a part two with some other characters, but if any of you wants a particular character next, feel free to ask, mwah. Hope you enjoy reading!!
Warning : I am going be to be realistic and harsh about this to keep the "canonical" edge; even if you think that this isn't canon, I can accept it. This is just how I portray them, trying to make them as canon as possible.
Isagi Yoichi
![Tumblr media](https://64.media.tumblr.com/942c0d25496f5af0eb8c2876aa164565/ec6e0227f300df1e-7d/s540x810/46b54fe8ae65b38e3e743ff44cce87ca868a1123.jpg)
Being in a relationship with Isagi is a pleasant experience, but it comes with a set of limits.
One of the major dealbreakers for him, is the lack of support in his partner. Isagi would prefer a partner that supports his goals and dreams, forming mutual respect for themselves and their goals. I can't imagine Isagi staying with a partner that also belittles his workâ he values shared positivity in a relationship.
Another is an overly arrogant partner. A partner that looks down on him and doesn't recognize his efforts. Once again, he thrives on positivity on a relationship and it goes the same for equality. He respects his partner and expects them to do the same.
Another is a person that is negative. He would be more than happy to comfort an innsecured partner. He would see it as normal, but a partner that always complains about things, always thinks about the worst of everything and drags him into it, would drain him mentally and I cannot see Isagi wanting that.
Another is a partner that is disloyal. This is pretty much self explanatory, so I won't delve deeper.
There are many more, but these are some of the major ones.
Karasu Tabito
![Tumblr media](https://64.media.tumblr.com/58e2e6ba0121a47f82971d8256f82c3d/ec6e0227f300df1e-46/s540x810/bb1469e11f332c1a87eb958130115c003ef7069a.jpg)
Karasu would be a good partner, but nevertheless, once againâ limits.
One of the things that would be a huge dealbreaker for him in a relationship is the lack of intelligence. Don't get him wrong, you don't have to be Albert Einstein, but Karasu is smart. He likes his intellect either being challenged, or have his intellect also be matched. All in all, it would be a huge dealbreaker for him if his partner lacks the ability to be able to keep up with his fast thinking natureâ and he would lose interest.
Another major dealbreaker is an overly dependant partner. A partner that always second guesses, very negative, doesn't have confidence and lacks independence would make him lose interest. Especially if his partner needs constant validation and demands his attention every minute of the day, and can't seem to trust themselves unless told to, would drain him mentally and make him lose interest.
Another major one, is someone that is disrespectful. As in, disrespecting his boundaries. He also likes his space, and he doesn't see the need to have his partner be involved in almost everything. He sees his partner as an equal and he won't ever mentally drain them, so for him, having some space set is a good way to thrive individually and not having to constantly depend on the other. And disrespecting of boundaries is also something he won't tolerate, having a partner that forces him to do things he isn't comfortable with, is a major turn off.
There are maybe some more, but let's keep it this way for now.
Itoshi Rin
![Tumblr media](https://64.media.tumblr.com/75e23d15cb88cd4643ea35e208561ac8/ec6e0227f300df1e-7c/s540x810/0b6f46ec583ed1cf5eef4ebeb76850b6a0d8e52f.jpg)
Being in a relationship with him is already mentally draining enough, especially his situation with his brother. But if someone is persistent enough, these are his top major dealbreakers in a relationship. To which if done, he won't hesitate to drop his partner.
Rin is serious and independent. And one of the things that is a huge dealbreaker for him would be a partner that disregards his independence. Rin's goal to surpassing his brother, and becoming better at soccer has already become a part of his identity and selfâ stemming from his independence. So if his partner attempts to diminish that independence, intentionally or not, that partner of his won't be with him for much longer. He needs a partner that supports and understands his goals, aswell as understand how a relationship with him can have someone feeling neglected.
Another major turn off is a partner that is overly sensitive. For Rin, he has a blunt mouth, replicating his brother's harshness and he might accidently say things he might not mean to his partner. If his partner is someone that takes every word seriously, or can't seem to understand where he is coming from and doesnt have the ability to comprehend whether or not he meant what he said, can't last in a relationship with him much longer. Rin might not outwardly say harsh things, but sometimes it would slip from his tongue from time to time. A partner that can see through to him and understand he doesn't mean anything, would mean alot him.
Another is a partner that relies on him constantly. And is pessimistic. Rin has goals, and he is ambitious. He strives to achieves themâ his independence and confidence would not mesh well with a partner that is negative all the time and not confident. Being reliant also is a major turn off as he strives in independence. He is already mentally drained enough with his brother and goals, I cannot see him lasting with a partner that needs constant assurance, validation and attention since he already is emotionally closed off as he is. There needs to be a balance.
Hiori Yo
![Tumblr media](https://64.media.tumblr.com/1756a4c7324da5c55592f23c8c8c3609/ec6e0227f300df1e-df/s540x810/4dc9b96c80fe9322263539d127f4c5b4350725e0.jpg)
For Hiori, he had grown with parents who imposed their own aspirations onto him, and such he lacked the emotional connection a child should've formed with their parents.
With this, I can see lack of genuine connection being a huge dealbreaker for him. He would deeply appreciate a partner that can make meaningful interactions and deep understanding. He wouldn't like it if his relationships are nothing more but just.... there. If he is in a relationship, he plans to make a deep connection with that person. If that person only interacts with him in a shallow manner or doesn't connect with him on a deeper and more intimate level, I can see Hiori not lasting long with that person. He might not even consider dating them.
Another major turn off is being controlling. He already carries the weight of his parents being controlling on every aspect of his life, as well as his future. They already have a hold of him, restraining him. I cant see him with a partner that does the same. In fact, he might even avoid people like that for the sake of himself. A partner like that would be a major turn off as he would feel as though the relationship is just another cheap reflection of his parent's control over him and his life.
Another is an overly dramatic partner that makes dramas and creates conflicts. He already has so much on his plate. Relationships are supposed to be a source of comfort, and a healthy space. Hiori is mentally drained by his parents and he won't be able to keep up with even more conflicts and dramas. Hiori likes a peaceful atmosphere, so his partner has to be able to offer a comfort place for him, and not another place filled with reminders of his parents.
___________________________
That is all!! Once again, thanks for the ask, enjoyed making this. Might even make a part 2 of my own hehe. But if any of ya'll want specific characters, don't be afraid to ask.
#bllk#bllk x reader#blue lock#blue lock x reader#isagi yoichi#isagi yoichi x reader#isagi x reader#itoshi rin#itoshi rin x reader#rin x reader#hiori yo x reader#hiori x reader#karasu tabito x reader#karasu tabito#karasu x reader
397 notes
¡
View notes
Note
A really stupid idea I had and I can't even decide where I want it to go đŠ
Anyone of the first years heard from a guy in their club that their boyfriends bestfriends roommates cousins friend has a thing for Yuu and a bad reputation for using love potions, suddenly first year of your choice is taking his bodyguard duties for Yuu even more seriously than ever and watching them like a Hawk until one day Yuu seemingly receives a nice gift package from an "secret admirer" and the boys panic, snatching the treat from Yuu's hand and chowing down themselves because they're dumb and impulsive and in love.
What follows is either;
A. The "secret admirer" was actually Grim who wanted to do something nice for his Henchhuman by making them tuna filled muffins as thanks for their service and now not only did they inhale the worst cake ever, got a tantrum throwing Grim to appease.
B. There was a love potion in those cookies, but whoever laced them is actually kinda bad at potionology and they're "Puppy love" potions, cue our freshman acting like The Prince from Mirror Mirror (2012) when he had a puppy love potion. His reputation at school will never recover from this but its worth it because Yuu now looks at him like he's the sunrise itself for taking that bullet for him.
C. There was no love potion. No shady business. Just normal brownies and now a very upset Yuu. Even if they understood his concerns, do you think between their allowance and Grim's appetite they want to hear excuses for them stealing food from Yuu!? He promises he'll make it up to them just stop hitting him! đŚđŚ
D. There was no love potion.2 but man. These pretzels...really suck. The freshman almost feels bad for whoever sent them because if this was their pickup attempt then they lost before they even began. Wait, what? Yuu made these to send as a secret admirer to their crush!? Now he's got even more complicated feelings about this whole ordeal while Yuu sulks about how the guy they wanted to give these to just said they suck to their face.
E. There was no love potion.3 but Yuu doesn't have to know that. Now the Freshman is free to "pretend" all his flirting and affection is thanks to those croissants AND play the hero. Its full proof! Until Ortho runs a diagnostic to find a cure for him and reveals that there was no potion that is. Hey, he can always try and claim a placebo effect, right?đŚ
F. The love potion was actually an aphrodisiac and now Yuu has t[I AM BEATEN TO DEATH BY KING MICKEYS KEYBLADE]
So the problem with this ask is that I really love all of these options and they could all work for a small fic for each of the options. That being said, there are specific ones that suit certain first years more than others.
A. The Great Grim's Perfect Surprise- Ace
Floyd is the one who gives Ace the heads up that someone with a bad reputation was interested in Yuu. And hey that was technically true! It's just that Floyd also over heard Grim bragging about the cupcakes he made and had a brilliant idea.
It's the worst possible case scenario for Ace, the cake tasted horrible, Grim is throwing a tantrum, Floyd is there and he brought Jamil to laugh at him too. This fucking sucks he hates his life man. Well until you shoo everyone out and shush Grim with some praise before turning your focus to him.
You're so concerned about him it makes his heart hurt. You get him something to drink and fuss over him for the rest of the day in a way that makes him fall in love with you all over again. Those half hearted scolds about there being better ways to get rid of poison don't land at all, doesn't matter how he does it he'll keep you safe and that's a promise.
B. Puppy Love Potion- Jack
The captain of the track team tells Jack and Deuce together, he knows the two of them are your friends and that they'll make sure you stay safe. Unfortunately he's not fully aware of how... delusional Jack is about how not into you he is.
The puppy love potion has him acting like even more of a puppy than usual. His tail won't stop wagging and he is actually smiling at you, thank the seven he's so willing to listen to what you have to say so you can keep him in Ramshackle until the potion wears off. He manages to reclaim his reputation just fine, Jack's a scary fucking guy when he tries to be and you'd have to be really stupid to mess with him when he's in a mood.
... not that you can really tell the difference between puppy love Jack and normal Jack when the Ramshackle Prefect insists on looking at him like that. He must really hate his tail.
C. How Dare You Eat my Food- Deuce
Same as before: captain gives the heads up, Jack and Deuce are really concerned, and Deuce decides to do something about it because he's in love and doesn't want to see you get hurt.
He doesn't realize there was nothing wrong with them until you point it out and he's beyond heartbroken. Please you have to understand he didn't mean it! Sure those brownies were really good and yeah maybe he should have realized that they were normal about half way through the pan but- he's so sorry! He's not above getting on his knees to beg for forgiveness and especially not from you.
There is a rule in Heartslabyul about returning things after you take them, so as soon as Deuce learns he took your food he's already planning on replacing it. Maybe you would let him borrow your kitchen? He won't let you help since he's fixing his own mistake but he doesn't see why you can't hang out. You'll get fresh brownies out of it and he gets to look cool Task failed successfully?
D. This is... Adequate I Suppose- Sebek
Only someone with an actual death wish would come up with this sort of plan in Riddle's presence. He's screaming, the paddock is on fire, and no one is really stopping him because hey idiot deserves it and also has anyone seen where Sebek went? Would have thought he'd have something to say too given that whole "crush he has on the prefect thing"
Well that's because he's too busy eating your pretzels with a trademark look of disgust as he tells you about what happened at Equestrian club today. These suck, he has such high standards for what you are worthy of and if it weren't for the potential danger posed to you he never would have-
Your wry disappointment silences him immediately, his look of concern and shock is really cute so it sort of makes up for how much his words hurt. He's aghast, you have someone you... admire? Someone you are too shy to confess to? And you made them something with your own two hands, he actually wants to cry he's so embarrassed, jealous, and in love all at the same time.
"You shouldn't have to do this. You- You are the one who deserves to be pursed. But if it is something you wish to do-" He draws himself up into a proper knight's stance, stiff as board and deeply determined to be seen as reliable. Safe. A... friend if you will allow it and something more if he could be so blessed. "-then we shall begin training immediately! Back to the kitchen, human!"
E. Placebo Effect- Epel
Only someone with an actual death wish would come up with this plan pt. 2 except Leona is a lot more reasonable than Riddle with how he handles it. He tells Epel to go check on Yuu while he goes to dump the guy on Crewel. That way he doesn't have to be the one to fill out all of the annoying disciplinary paperwork.
So he knows by the time he shows up at Ramshackle that there really is no threat to your safety but still... this sort of opportunity is just too good to pass up. And he's such a good actor too, if this wouldn't get him in trouble with Vil he'd rub it in his dorm leader's face.
See Vil! He doesn't need no fancy manners or etiquette, Yuu's flushed and charmed by his old fashioned gentlemanly behavior. He's holding doors, pulling out your chair, giving you all of the compliments he thinks about but never says for fear of looking uncool. He even gets to bake apple pie with you until Ortho calls his bluff. Sure, he should have some shame, but this is Epel we're talking about. He claims the placebo effect and pretends to be super embarrassed while gauging your reaction for any trace of disappointment.
If he's satisfied with how sad you are he just might make it up to you with a real date~
Like I was saying all of these prompts could really work for any of them and- huh could have sworn there was a sixth one. Weird anyway thanks for the ask!
...
....
..... ok so now that the coast is clear:
![Tumblr media](https://64.media.tumblr.com/2fea8f60aa8f0a8005944ee05cc09e8a/8963ea80dedb332f-b6/s540x810/8ef465a15479c1b519b2976dd7be606df822226e.jpg)
First thing's first, they're all mad as hell that someone tried to drug you with an aphrodisiac. That's so beyond disgusting, who does this guy think he is?
Ace's focus is entirely on you. He doesn't outright admit what's wrong, he actively teases you for being into him when you express concern as if it doesn't send a painful pang of arousal through him when you don't deny it. You have to make a move, he'll ask for it half serious half joke, but he wants you to do this because you want him and not as some sort of favor please don't say it like that- He starts taking shots at the other guy when he regains enough of his ego to flip you on your back and start taking the lead. Really, how stupid was that guy to think he had a chance when you only have eyes for him, prefect? Now don't you dare try to hide your cute expressions from him, he's been looking forward to this.
Jack is convinced he can just lock himself in his room and endure. He tries thinking of it as a training exercise, sure he might have had some... similar feelings before. Similar thoughts, painful dreams that felt real until he woke up alone, drenched in sweat, painfully unfulfilled and deeply embarrassed. But nothing can compare to the real you, he's almost angry that he ever thought that at all now that you're underneath him. He's so lucky that you're his mate, that he can bite into your neck and thrust into your body and have you accept him even as he locks you together in a sticky mess of sweat and slick. He's beyond embarrassed when he wakes up still balls deep with your fingers running through his matted hair. This would be the worst if he didn't have a cute, very human, bite of his own on his neck.
Deuce's anger is made so much worse by him being horny. The other guy is terrified, everyone around him is terrified Deuce is aware he's gone full delinquent and he can't seem to stop. By the time you find him his knuckles are bruised, he's sweaty, with rumpled clothes, and taking great heaving breaths unable to deny the effects he's feeling and asking you to forgive him. Deuce has an idea of what he wanted your first time to be like. He wanted to take you out on a real date, he wanted to be honorable with you. He didn't expect you to be the one to push him back against the shower stall and take him just as quick and dirty as he feels. You're so beautiful, he's so powerless in the face of your naked desire and very eager to please. Just tell him what you want him to do; he's all yours.
Sebek can't lie about how he feels to save his life. All of NRC knows he's horny because he's screaming about how not horny he is right now and how much he doesn't think your flesh looks super supple, bitable even seven he just wants to- Lilia doesn't let him ignore those feelings after confirming you aren't the slightest bit uncomfortable being the center of Sebek's attention. He's shy, in denial. He is proud of his honorable intent and self control. But he is in love with you and with that love comes a deep, fathomless desire edged with obsessive devotion that all fae pride themselves in. He needs your guidance, he's unused to this. That obsessive attention hangs on your every gasp and moan, when he finds a noise he likes he hammers at the source again and again until you reward him with the most wonderful noise of all. When the potion has worked its way through his system the hunger still remains; his appetite is voracious. A potion is nothing compared to his own desires, hopefully this little accident left you prepared.
Epel's anger is also made so much worse by being horny. But Leona already dealt with the scumbag so it's not like he can work out his aggression on the creep... so won't you let him take it out on you? He's completely serious, the drug has gone straight to his dick and he's not interested in pretending like he doesn't want you prefect. No taking care of it himself won't work, no don't be shy it really can't be anyone else. You want a real man? Well he's right here and he wants you something fierce. Epel wouldn't be this confident if he didn't have so much adrenaline running through him, but he can't bring himself to be embarrassed when he comes to his senses and sees you bent over your desk and much more out of breath than him. He's going to be riding this high for the rest of the year, and he's going to make sure you feel it for just as long too.
#<3 asks#twisted wonderland x reader#twst x reader#twst first years#ace trapolla x reader#deuce spade x reader#jack howl x reader#epel felmier x reader#sebek zigvolt x reader
479 notes
¡
View notes
Text
â Ë・âŕ¨ŕ§Ë WHAT LIES UNDERNEATH [cult member peter parker x reader]
pairings: dark! peter parker x reader
⢠ËËË SUMMARY ŕ¨ŕ§ after losing your family, your friends, and your boyfriend, Peter Parker casually crashes in your life out of nowhere. His presence was welcoming, as his so-called village is too. But his hospitality seems to have something darker underneath
⢠ËËË WARNINGS ŕ¨ŕ§ NON-CON/DUB-CON (RAPE), heavy manipulation, toxic relationship, cult beliefs, oral (fem receiving), drugging (use of an aphrodisiac), p in v, multiple orgasms, breeding kink, obsessive behavior, mild violence, mentions of death, depression, suicidal thoughts, implied murder. lemme know if I missed any. READ AT YOUR OWN RISK!
If you don't wanna see my dark stories, please block the tag #madi: dark content
a/n: this is loosely based on Midsommar, it's a really good movie. I have changed some stuff that i didn't feel comfortable writing or I just didn't want to write. Also this maybe the worst smut you've ever read probably. don't steal any of my shit or I'll steal ur head.
![Tumblr media](https://64.media.tumblr.com/1029e85a3aaca9fc71d93cb4d7f4997e/09e183f531cf0637-dd/s540x810/a3487d426a7d58b6415bcb43ceaaa1c193424eda.jpg)
"I'm sorry sissy, the darkness is consuming me, and I will take them with me"
Those were the last texts your sister sent you. You were worried sick about her cryptic message and wanted disclosure from her, but she hasn't written back.
Your sister has been known to be a rather mentally challenged person. She was just venting to you. Right?
It was unnaturally still in the air, sitting at your kitchen table with the phone pressed close to your ear. Your fingers drummed an erratic rhythm against the edge of the table, still collapsed trying to ground yourself. All night, your sister has not picked up her phone. The strange text messages she had sent earlier in the day replayed like a broken record in your mind.
How many times have you been thinking of something really wrong, more than you would admit, but still dismissing it?
Somehow tonight felt different.
You texted Harry to reassure you, but the typical unsympathetic reply only served to add more weight to that chest heaviness again. Now you are left alone with your thoughts, and each one seems darker than the other.
You were about to not pick the phone because it looked like a spam call to you. The number was unknown, but that gut feeling inside you made you press accept.
"Hello?" Your voice dared as you strove to steady it.
The unknown caller said your name as they spoke, "Is this her?" The voice on the other end was calm but carried a cold detachment that made your stomach drop.
"Yes," you replied.
"This is Officer Hill with the NYPD. I'm sorry to tell you we've had an incident regarding your family," she said.
Air disappeared from your lungs suddenly, and your grip tightened against the phone. "What kind of incident?"
"I understand this is tough," she said, her voice carefully measured. "But I need you to come to the station. It's better to speak in person."
The issue of reality has been stretched and heavy between you, and it was so unbearable. âNo,â you spoke finally in a panic voiding interiorly. âPlease, just tell me now. What happened?â
There was a moment's hesitation in Hill's case. In that moment, you could feel the world starting to crack around you.
"There is no easy way to say this," she finally managed to come up with. "Your parents and sister were involved in a fatal accident. I am so sorry."
You could not comprehend those words for a moment. They swayed in the air outside with an unreal and incomprehensible quality. "What do you mean? Are they okay? Whatâ"
"They didn't survive," Hill said softly, and that cut through your spiraling questions.
The phone fell from your hand and banged tipsily on the table. To this resonating rattle in the small space, however, your ear was tuned out. Your chest tightened, and the phrase ran in your brain, echoing in shallow gasps.
They didn't survive.
The days that followed the funeral just passed in a haze of hollow condolences and noise deafening silence. Your world had been torn apart while everything moved forwardâall relentless and lame. Harry, your boyfriend of 2 years stayed as he assured you, but his presence seemed more of a fulfillment of an obligation than any comfort.
He was not exactly a cruel person; at least not really overt, for distance was a high-dubious chasm with every awkward conversation and with every minute spent by him scrolling through his phone instead of talking to you. Not blind are you to those glances he exchanged with his buddies once they assumed you weren't watching. There is pity instead of love and comfort in his eyes whenever you cry.
The last straw fell on a quiet Friday evening. You had dragged yourself to the apartment of Harry, looking for refuge in his presence after yet another sleepless night. He was lounging in the couch with one hand gripping a phone while the other was a beer.
"I feel like I'm falling apart," you admitted softly and settled next to him. Your voice cracked, and at last, the tears that were kept in were poured out. "I don't know how to do this without them. I don't know how to⌠keep going."
Harry glanced towards your direction, the look on his face inscrutable. After that, he set his phone down and fell into this heavy sigh as he rubbed the back of his neck. "I understand, okay? But you can't keep unloading things like this on me. It'sâŚit's too much."
Your heart sank. "Too much?"
"I'm not your therapist," he said in defensive. "I don't know what you want me to do. I can't fix this for you."
"I'm not asking you to fix it!" You snapped while accepting the anger that had replaced the hurt. "I just need you to be here. To actually care."
He didn't answer immediately. Instead, he diverted his gaze from her, tightening his jaw. "This isn't fair," he muttered.
"What do you mean fair!?" you yelled, your volume rising. "Me grieving my whole family? It isn't as terrible as needing the person who's supposed to love me to act and comfort me?"
Harry stood up immediately and started pacing the tiny living room. "I didn't sign up for this," he said. The words cut like knives. "I feel like⌠like I'm drowning too. I'm trying to keep my head above water, but here you are, pulling me under."
Your breath literally caught in your throat at that last sentence, as if a blow on the physical plane had hit home. "Is that really how you see me? As one who drags you down?" You asked in disbelief.
However, he stopped pacing and turned toward you, shoulders sagging. "I don't know," he said more quietly. "I don't know what I feel anymore. My friends tell me I should end it. They say I can't do this to myself. But I thought, you know, that might help."
"Help?" you echoed, voice breaking. "You think pity keeping me would help? Do you know how humiliating that is?"
Harry looked away. "Well, I'm sorry! alright!? It's not like I want to be part of your fuckin tenth reason in your suicide note!". Guilt was scrawled across his face when those words left his mouth. "I didn't mean for it to be like this."
You stood waveringly. Nevertheless, your voice remained firm. "If this is too much for you, then spit it out. Be frank for once, Harry."
He hesitated, his silence answering the question you hadn't dared to ask outright.
You nodded, swallowing the lump in your throat. "Well, that's what I figured."
You took your bag and stepped out of the apartment, closing the door behind you just before the torrent of tears fell as you stumbled down the street. For the first time in weeks, you were truly alone. Sure, Harry wasn't the best boyfriend, but now you didn't have family, Harry, heck, you don't even have friends to pat you in the back and tell you it's alright.
You were truly alone, crying in the middle of the streets.
A week later, at the dinner party of an old classmate's friend, Peter Parker walks into your life.
Peter wasn't meant to be thereâhe admitted that soon after you started the talk. "I kind of crashed this," he confessed with a sheepish grin, rubbing the back of his neck. "I heard there was free food, and, uh⌠I have no self-control."
You laughed against your will. It was a real laugh that felt vaguely familiar after weeks of grief.
He was awkward but charming, with rapid tumbling out of words out of his mouth as he tried to start a small talk. "So, uh, how do you know Sam? Are you a friend from work? Oh wait, no, you don't look old enough to work with himâwait, not that you look like a kid or anything. I just meantâ"
"It's okay," you interrupted, smile still there regardless. "I get it. I am also kinda crashing here, I never really got a proper invite, I just found out from one of my old classmates that there was a party, now here I am"
The more you could talk to him, the more you would discover how easy it was to be in his company. Unlike Harry, who had always been polished and withdrawn, Peter was frank and genuine, emotions laid out for all to see.
And by the end of the night, he had known your family. You had not intended to tell him, but somehow the way he listenedâ actually listenedâ made it spill out.
"I'm so sorry," Peter said softly, voice laced thickly with empathy. "That is⌠I can't even imagine what you're going through. But, if you ever need someone to talk toâor like, someone to distract you with dumb jokesâI'm here."
You've been taken aback by his earnestness. Finally, after what felt like years, someone might have noticed you.
It was indeed one of those nights which made time stretch out into eternity. You were there with Peter on a park bench where the faint light of the flickering city lights was shining through dense bushes and trees. The air was crisp, a cool kind that could very much seep into one's bones, yet Peter's company made it bearable.
He had this way of filling the silence without forcing it: sometimes talking, rambling on about whatever random thought invaded his head, sometimes just sitting with a person comfortable in the quiet, and today, he was acting especially thoughtful, staring at some faraway towers protruding above the skyline.
"Can I ask you something?" he suddenly blurted out, breaking the stillness.
"Sure."
He hesitated, bit his bottom lip as if he couldn't decide how to start, and began speaking. "Do you ever feel likeâŚI don't know, like you're stuck?"
You blinked. It caught you off guard. "What do you mean?"
"Like everybody around you is moving ahead, but you're just there standing still," he explained, his words pretty crumbling out in that earnest, awkward way of his. "Like no matter what you do, you can't catch up."
The question was a little more awkward for you than you'd expected. "Yeah," you quietly admitted. "too many times than how I want it to be"
"It's tiring" he said, his eyes still far. "I get that. After my uncle⌠well died, after all that, I felt like I was trapped in this⌠I don't know, this loop. So, I couldn't allow myself to be happy because it would feel wrong, you know? Like I didn't deserve it."
You were gaping at him, flabbergasted by his openness. Peter was not the kind to talk much about himselfânot like this, anyway.
"How did you get out of it?" you asked in a soft voice.
He smiled faintly. "I didn't. Not really. But I found something that helped."
"What was it?"
Peter gazed upward at the stars. "My hometown. It's a little dot in the middle of nowhere on the map. Quiet, kind of old-fashioned place. But there's something⌠something grounding."
He stopped for a brief while, casting a doubtful glance at you. "I go back every summer. It's like hitting a reset button or something. And, uh⌠would you want to join me this year?"
Totally unexpected. "You want me to go with you?"
"Yeah," Peter said quickly, blushing in the face of it. "If you want to. No pressure, or anything. Just you have been through a lot, and I thought maybe time away might help or something. It's not fancy or anythingâdefinitely not the kind of place with five-star hotelsâbut it's peaceful. And I'd be there, so⌠you wouldn't be alone."
At his words, your throat became somewhat tight. He was not offering a vacation. He was inviting you to an escape.
"I don't know," You finally ventured with a little quiver of voice. "What if I just feel worse?"
"You won't," Peter said firmly, his brown eyes locking onto yours. "I won't let you."
There was something so genuine about the way he said it, like he truly believed he could protect you from the weight of your grief.
"What is it like?" you asked, helpless curiosity walking over your hesitation.
Peter's eyes set aglow at that moment, brimming over with a lot of excitement. "Oh gosh! Now where do I even begin? Okay, so there's this diner right in the middle of town. It's run by Mr. and Mrs. Beck. They've been married for like fifty years or something, and they make the fluffiest pancakes you've ever tasted in your life. And then there's this old library. Small, yes, but it has this weird charm, you know? Everything is crooked, and half the books are falling apart, but I love it. Oh, and there's this great big field just outside of townâit's perfect to stargaze because you can see the Milky Way out there. It's insane."
Now he was practically bouncing out of his seat, his enthusiasm almost contagious.
"It sounds⌠amazing," you found yourself admitting. A small smile tugged your lips.
"It's amazing," Peter said earnestly. "And I think you would love it. Everyone is so welcoming there. It's like⌠a little bubble of goodness in this horrible world sometimes."
For just a moment, you let yourself imagine it, far from the city and the reminders of everything that had been lost, somewhere I might again breathe.
"Okay," you said finally, barely above a whisper.
Peter's eyes lit up. "Really? You're going to come?"
"Yeah," you said, surprising even yourself. "I think I need this."
"Trust me; you won't regret it," Peter continued, his grin stretching from ear to ear.
For the first time in what felt like forever, you felt a flicker of hope. Maybe this trip wouldn't fix everything. Maybe it wouldn't fix anything. But for now, it was enough to know you wouldn't be facing it alone.
It was a surreal feeling about the trip toward Peter's hometown. It was almost a relief because you sensed that you were really leaving everything behind, even thought it was just a few weeks. Driving in a comfortable pattern with Peter talking animatedly about all of the town's strange things, while you listened and occasionally chimed in with a question or a laugh at one of his goofy replies.
As you drove farther from the city and the scenery opened to rolling hills and dense forests before you, Peter shifted in his seat to adjust the radio. The soft tune filled the car and merged with the sounds of the tires over the road.
"You are going to love it," Peter said, glancing at you with an innocent smile. "Air's so fresh it nearly smells fake, and the stars. They're nothing like anything you've ever seen before. I promise."
"I'll hold you to that," you said, smiling despite the nervous knot still twisting about in your chest.
The town came into view just about the time the sun started sinking, dipping the horizon in gold and pinks. It was a little bit smaller than you had in mind, the kind of place that probably knew everyone by name.
Peter slowed the car as you entered the main street, which was lined with quaint buildings that appeared to have been plucked from another era. A few of the local's whereabouts were either on their porches talking, in their gardens working, or taking their dogs out for a walk. They would almost wave at Peter as they drove past.
"See? Told you. Nicest people on the planet," said Peter returning the waves enthusiastically.
"No shit," you said, watching a woman coming across with a basket of flowers smile toward you warmly.
Peter stopped in a graveled driveway leading to a homely two-storied fairy tale house. Crooked white picket fence and wildflower-laden garden, there was little that screamed charm.
The moment the car stopped, from the front door, she came, a petite woman in her 30's with brown hair, beaming with kindness in her eyes and warmth in her smile.
"There's my darling nephew!" she called out.
Peter jumped out of the car, practically bounding onto her, hugging her. "Aunt May!"
"And you must be the girl Peter keeps talking about," she said, her bright eyes finding their way to you. "Peter has told me so much about you."
"Oh, um, hi," you said, stepping out of the car and giving a small wave.
"Then that's it," she said, surprising with her strong hug for her small figure. "It's so lovely to finally meet you. Come in! It's rather hot out here during the summers"
Once you stepped into the house, you were met with interior that was as cozy as anyone could expect, the design suggests mixes between vintage and modern furniture, with colorful throw blankets and knickknacks making it feel lived in. There was also a faint waft of freshly baked cookies, which you soon spotted on the kitchen counter.
"Make yourself at home," May said, "Your room's already set up upstairs. Peter can show you around."
"Thanks May," Peter replied, already grabbing your bag before you could protest.
Up came Peter, leading you to a small but cozy guest room overlooking the backyard.
"Hope that's cool," said Peter, dropping your bag next to the bed. "Not fancy, but it's quiet."
"It's perfect," you said, placing your backside on the edge of the bed and taking a moment to breathe.
In the following days, Peter became your own personal tour guide, leading you through the town every nook and cranny, and introduced you to everyone as if you were already a part of the community, and to your surprise, they all welcomed you with open arms
Mr. and Mrs. Beck would insist on serving you their best pancakes while there at the diner even after breakfast time.
"We have heard so much about you," Mrs. Beck said it with a twinkle in her eyes. "Peter's nearly counting the days until you came."
Peter turned red and scratched the back of his neck. "Thanks, Mrs. Beck. Subtle as always."
Library, this was to be; the charmingly ramshackle structure seemed to sag under the weight of its many books. Peter's eyes lit up as he walked through those rows of crooked shelves with his fingers trailing over the spines.
"This here was my escape growing up," he said, pulling a worn copy of The Hobbit from the shelf. "Any time things got⌠overwhelming, I'd come here. Just me, a book, and a whole lot of silence."
This was the kind of moment when one caught a glimpse into Peter's world of quiet, reflective, introspective thinking where the depths beneath the sunshine state, as always, reside.
The very field that Peter had described so vividly turned out to be even more breathtaking than you ever imagined. The grass stretched out in every direction, swaying gently in the breeze, and the sky above was that of a canvas painted with stars, brighter and bolder than he had ever seen.
With a dramatic sigh, Peter flopped onto the ground, patting a spot next to him. "Come on, you're not getting the full experience unless you lie down."
You hesitated to lie down beside him, letting the cool grass tickle your arms as you stared up at the infinite expanse of sky.
"Wow," you breathed.
"Yeah?" he said, turning his head towards you. "It's like the universe decided to show off or something."
They lay there silently for a good while with the sound of the rustling grass and an occasional chirp of crickets. That was the most peaceful you had felt in a long, long time.
Maybe it was a little initial self-talk that told you it was just small town hospitality. People in cities donât wave at strangers, though maybe thatâs simply what people do out here. Maybe they were just genuinely curious about a stranger in a little place where everyone knows everyone.
But as the day went on, those small gestures, those innocent jests began to feel⌠different.
It started out slow.
At the diner, Mrs. Beck lingered longer than she ought to while refilling your coffee, her smile warm but sharp, penetrating eyes boring onto you.
"You're feeling like one of us already, aren't you?" she would have said, almost as if it were a statement rather than a question.
You gave a polite smile with no idea of how to answer. "Uh, yeah, everybody's really welcomed here."
"Oh, good," she said, with a firm nod. "That's what we want."
There's something in the way she said it, words weighing a lot more than they were supposed to.
And so it went; the Becks household was not the only one. The pattern held true for nearly every encounter.
"How are you settling in?"
Not "welcome" or "hi and how long are you staying?" The last kind of question you would expect from someone meeting a newcomer. The question, however, assumed permanence. It assumed that you were settling in, that you live here now.
Initially, you passed it off as just another one of those quirks that could be attributed to small-town hospitality. Maybe that's just their way of being polite. But after a few more days, it became pretty hard to ignore the repetition.
You brought it up to Peter one morning as the two of you sat on May's porch, sipping coffee and watching the sunrise.
"Is it just me," you began, keeping your tone light, "or does everyone here ask the same question?"
Peter looked up from his mug, a confused smile tugging at the corners of his lips. "What question?"
"How I'm 'settling in.' Like, literally everyone has said it."
"Oh, that?" Peter chuckled, brushing it off with a wave of his hand. "That's just how people are around here. Small towns, you know? Everyone's in everyone else's business, and they just want to make sure you're happy. It's aggressively wholesome."
You nodded while struggling to let his explanation take root in you, but that feeling of unease lingered.
Then came the presents.
The librarian insisted that you check out a copy of Little Women, even if you just went there to browse.
"You'll love it," she said, sliding it over the counter to you with a knowing smile.
"How do you know?" you asked, only half-joking.
Her smile didn't waver. "I just do."
At the hardware store, the owner gave you a tiny potted shrub. "Every home needs a little bit of green," he said cheerfully, but his eyes had a dark intensity that made him more intimidating.
"Thanks," you mumbled awkwardly, holding the plant as you walked out.
It was the kind of gift given to a father like you, not at all because you wanted it, but so they could wave it in your face.
The real breaking point occurred one night at the diner.
Peter was treating you to dinner there after spending the afternoon wandering around town. It was quieter than usual, the counter occupied only by a few regulars. The place smelled of coffee and fries, and while Peter was busy demolishing a plate of the latter, you excused yourself to go to the washroom.
The hallway at the back of the diner is dark and narrow, the overhead fluorescent lights humming in slightly grating tones. At the door marked "Women," you caught snatches of voices from the kitchen-garbled, urgent.
"âŚAnd she's settling in?"
"She seems fine so far. Peter's doing a good job keeping her comfortable."
You were frozen with your hand on the doorknob. Your pulse raced. "Good, she has to feel like she belongs, it's important."
Then there was a crashing sound of many dishes, followed by a long heavy pause.
"So," says the first voice, "you think she suspects anything?"
"No. Not yet."
There, silence fell between the voices after that, then just the faintest clinkâthe sound of silverware-and the quick pounding of your heartbeat resounded in your ears.
When you stepped back to the table, Peter's easy smile greeted you. "Everything cool?" he asked as he dipped a fry into ketchup. "Yeah," you said quickly as you slid into your seat. "Fine."
The mind remained racing.
They must be talking about someone elseâa new hire at the diner. Maybe a new family into town. There was no way they were talking about you.
Right?
You tried to shake it off, sinking into Peter's chatter about the upcoming festival, but the unease clung to you like a second skin.
May's small guest room became so beautiful in the rays of the morning sun that they filtered through lace curtains and softly flecked the walls. You stared ridiculously at the ceiling, a heavy weight on your chest, making sleep unusually elusive. Thoughts had been just too loud and tangled.
Those whispers from the diner, the rehearsed kindness from townspeople, and the way he seemed to brush it all off so easily were elusive things you couldn't shake off. The most you told yourself was that it was probably nothing.
This is what you told yourself as you forced yourself out of bed and down the stairs. Peter wouldn't lie to you; he was the most genuine person you knew. Right?
The smell of pancakes and coffee greeted you in the kitchen.
By the stove stood Peter, his hair at odd angles and humming a tune under his breath. For a moment, you let yourself relax. This is Peter, your Peter.
"Good morning, sleepyhead!" he greeted, grinning at you with that boyish grin. He slid over a plate of pancakes drenched in syrup and topped with fresh strawberries.
"Morning," you replied, low enough to be heard.
"You okay?" he asked, tilting his head.
"Yeah, just didn't sleep much," you tugged and picked little at your food.
"Frowning," Peter said and kept down his fork. "Anything troubling you?"
"No," you lied quickly. "Just one of those nights."
He studied you for a moment, and you forced a small smile. Whatever the unease was, there was no reason for dragging Peter into it. He'd just dismiss it as he always did.
At last, the day was spent in a well-practiced blur of activities. It seemed Peter had made up his mind to keep you as busy as possible, even dragging you around the town park and to that creek he used to catch tadpoles as a kid. And if that weren't enough, he picked you up from the bakery where the sweet aroma of pastries was very strong. Offering you so many pastries till your stomach ached
Evening had cloaked the house in darkness, and so much for bottled up emotions. After dinner, the two of you sat alone in the living room: May well and truly off to bed. And that left you here with Peter sprawled across the couch flipping through some book, while you closed yourself into a tight little knot in the armchair.
"Peter," you broke the silence.
He blinked up at you with alarmed eyes. "Yeah?"
"I need to ask you something."
His brows knitted slightly, but he set aside the book. "Sure. What is it?"
You pause, heart racing. "Last night at the diner I heard something. Two people in the kitchen were talking about me."
Peter's face remained impassive. Still in his eyes, there was a flicker of something that disappeared as quickly as the light.
"What did they say?"
"They said you were doing a good job keeping me comfortable. That I need to feel like I belong." You paused, faltering with your voice. "Peter, what does that mean?"
Peter leaned forward, dangling his elbows on his knees. "It's nothing, they were probably just being nosy. People here care about each other, and when someone new comes in, they get⌠curious."
"That is not how it sounded," you said shaking your head. "It sounded like, intentional. It sounded much like plotting."
"You're overthinking this" Peter sighed rubbing back on his neck "Seriously, this townâit's differentâclose-knit. They just want to ensure you feel welcome, happy here, nothing but that".
âThen why does it feel so fake?â you pressed, raising your voice. âEveryone acts like they already know me. Like theyâre expecting something to come from me.â
Peter tensed his jaw, and then he did not speak anything for a moment. He then stood up suddenly. "I brought you here for your help," he said in a hard tone. "I brought you here so you might begin a fresh mental state, a place where you could heal. And instead of appreciating it, you are looking for ways to tear it apart."
"I didn't ask for this!" you shot back, standing as well. "I didn't ask to be dragged into some town where everyone acts like I'm part of some⌠some secret club!"
Peter turned to you, eyes flashing. "You didn't have to ask! You were falling apart. You needed this. And I've been trying my best to make things easier for you, but you can't even see that, can you?"
The words hit you like a slap. Staring at him, breathless, tears filling your eyes. "Peter⌠why are you doing this?"
He softened immediately, shoulders slumping. "I'm sorry," he said quietly. "I didn't mean toâlook, I just⌠I care about you. I hate seeing you so lost. I thought bringing you here would help, but maybe I was wrong."
You wiped your eyes, and the mind is busy with thoughts. Maybe he is right. Maybe you are over-reacting. Peter was not that manipulative. He was just worried.
"Okay," you said finally, your voice shaky. "But if this town is so great, then why does it feel like there is something you are not telling me?"
Peter's eyes drifted towards the window momentarilyâas if to check whether there were eavesdroppers outsideâ"It is not like that," he said, whispering faintly barely audible.
"Then tell me what it is," you said. "If you want me to trust you, then stop keeping secrets."
Peter sighed deeply, his shoulders sagging. "Alright," he said. "But you're not going to like it."
"And that's supposed to mean what?"
He moved closer, looking you straight in the eye. "Some things are better demonstrated rather than told," he said, his tone even more pleading. "I'll tell you everything tomorrow. JustâŚgive me another day."
You gawked at him, feeling your belly tie up in knots. Every instinct in you screamed to demand answers right now, but for some reason, the look in his eyes stopped you. He looked⌠desperate.
"Fine," you said with reluctance. "One more day."
Peter nodded, a relief washing over his face. "Thank you," he said almost inaudibly. "I assure you, it will all come into perspective soon."
But climbing into bed that night only made more pronounced the doubts gnawing at you louder than they had done before.
The cold, crisp evening air wrapped tight around you like a noose, as they led Peter into the woods. Try as you might to ignore the uncomfortable hollow in your gut, the longer you sat in this strange, unsettling village, the more you felt that something dark ran underneath it all. Every villager's smile, how they seemed to know just a little too much about youâeverything just felt orchestrated, perfect.
You had held the doubts to yourself, buried deep down because Peter had always been the perfect anchor. But tonight, something flickered in his eyesâhis tense shoulders and that almost undetectable flash of something darker crossing his faceâtold you that you were no longer in control.
You entered the clearing, gasping for air by the time you stepped into the structure resembling a stone chapel. The door agonizingly creaked open, bringing in the cold air from outside in juxtaposition with the stifling heat within. There, illuminated softly, were the others. A few you recognized from the eerily quiet familiar faces that watched you through predatory eyes.
It felt thick and heavy in the air, almost stultifying. The walls were closing in, and the silence was becoming almost oppressive. Peter gently but firmly drew you forward, his comforting presence still providing warmth, though everything else seemed wrong.
He was more weathered and older than you imagined, the drawn skin of his face tight over sharp features, pale and unblinking eyes matching his face. The robe hung dark and almost blended into shadows as he approached you. A murmur swept through the people gathered, and you paid little attention. Everything spun in your head and your heart drummed against your ears.
"Peter," said the man with a voice which grated like a rusty hinge, as if he had been whispering for years. "She has come."
Peter's eyes had been fixed on you for some time, and now he nodded slowly. The heat of his gaze made your skin crawl. The man checked you out from head to toe, and his intense eyes seemed to promise a lot of something. "Perfect," he said under his breath but not for too long so that others could hear him as he shouted, "She is the one. It's time."
Time, just like that word, seemed hollow, reverberating in the air around you like a bad omen. Instead, you opened your mouth to argue or question what part of this was really happening, but then, Peter squeezed your shoulder so tightly that it felt like it might crush your bones.
"It's okay," he whispered against your ear with his very warm breath. "I'll explain everything. You'll understand soon enough."
But understanding was the last thing you wanted to happen. All you had in mind was running. The man stepped forward, never breaking the eye contact. "Our village has managed to survive for many centuries and still thrive at its odds. But there is one rule that we have to abide byâthere is one rule that can't be broken. After every eighteen years, one of our own must depart from this world and find someone in the outside worldâfrom beyond these walls to someone pure."
Your mouth went dry. "What⌠what do you mean by that?"
"Every time a child turns eighteen, he must leave for a period of time to spend in the world outside, learn its ways; but after this period, he must return, and he must bring someone from the outside to add to the village."
Your body suddenly turned ice cold. "What do you mean, bring someone from the outside?" You spluttered. Your voice barely made an impression on the silence.
The smile of the man became broad. "A new family member. A mate. Someone to whom they will get married, with whom they will create children. This is the law."
You turned to Peter with wide eyes filled with horror as your heart stuttered deep in your chest. "What do you mean⌠a mate? You want me to�"
Peter tightened his grip on your shoulder and breathed shallowly. "That's how it is done. This is how we survive. The village needs strong new blood. The children produced from these unions keep the bloodline pure, preventing inbreeding."
Inbreeding. That one word roared through your mind like no other thought. You couldn't breathe. You felt suffocated under the weight of all that.
"What⌠what are you saying?" you gasped, stunned and unable to take in everything being revealed to you.
Peter stepped even closer; eyes dark with something almost predatory. "That's how this works. You're part of the plan now. You have no choice. You are here because you were chosen. You are going to help us keep the village alive. Our survival depends on⌠"
"No," you whispered, stumbling backward as you tried to retreat. "No, this isn't right. You can'tâthis isn'tâ"
And suddenly, an old man stepped beside you, his shadowy tallness overshadowing you. "You will understand soon. You are not the first, nor will you be the last. Every child who leaves returns with someone. And they will mate, they will bear children. This is how we preserve our people, how we protect our bloodline." He said as if it was your duty, as if this was your destiny.
"No!" You screamed tearing the air with your voice now choked in emotions. "This is insane! You're insane!"
The gentleness from Peter that used to soothe you all vanished, replaced by the steely resolve. He took another step forward, and instinctively you recoiled. "I did not want you to have this," he said, his voice low and strained, "but it is how it is. You will come to understand, and you will see that it is for the best."
The other villagers watched you with silent intensity as the space surrounding you felt as if it were closing in on you, with walls pressing from all sides. You could feel their hungry and expectant eyes on you.
You wanted to run. You wanted to yell.
But as soon as the old man reached out his hand to grab you, Peter's hold on your arm tightened, his fingers digging into your skin, keeping you anchored. "You don't understand yet," he said quietly, his voice tinged with something darker, something that, as it sent chills down your spine, made you think he was going to take you off somewhere to be tortured. "But you will. Soon, it will make sense. The only way to survive is this. This is something we can't let you ruin."
You were trapped. The weight of their expectations crushed you, their smiles now twisted masks of something monstrous beneath.
"Your child will also do the same duty," the old man said softly. "When they come back to the village with their mate, they will fulfill their destiny. They will carry our future."
Your chest constricted. Every part of you screamed to escape, to run, to fight against the suffocating nightmare into which you had been dragged. All the while, in the depths of your consciousness, you knew that there was no escaping this; they had planned for this. They had chosen you.
Back against the stone wall of the chapel now, your breath came in rapid, gasping suction since the reality began to drown in you. It beat loudly in your chest, a frantic mind racing for exit routes, for freedom from the path that had been laid out for me like a spider's web in all its horrible detail.
Peter's gaze was cold and cruel; it was no longer the warm presence one had hoped for. The heady words of the old man echoed in your ears, chilling and impossible to escape, like a curse. "You will return. You will bear our future."
As impossible as it was to believe, you finally realized it, this fucked up cycle wanted you to be part of itâand not by choice.
But you weren't going to let that happen.
You pushed past Peter and felt the sharp sting as he grabbed at your arm. You broke free, legs now trembling beneath you, as you headed for the door. You had to get out. You didn't know where you were running, but the woods were the only option. The only chance at freedom. You burst through the chapel door and into the cold night air, stumbling over uneven ground.
You heard footsteps behind you, but you didn't dare look back. The wind howled around you, swallowing up any sounds from the village. Your lungs burned as you pushed yourself faster, harder, your breath ragged from panic clawing at your chest.
You didn't look up when you heard a car approaching, but you didn't stop either, as your mind told you to keep running, to escape, but your legs were beginning to fail you.
The car stopped short before you, the headlights blinding. You turned with a wild heart as the door to that vehicle swung open. A man in a police uniform stepped out, his expression unreadable.
"Hey, are you alright?" he asked, with a soft voice but underneath carrying an authority.
He wouldn't let you trust him, and you could be in danger. "I-I need help," you stuttered, barely able to catch your breath. "They're chasing me. Theyâthey won't let me leave."
The officer stepped closer, his eyes darting toward the woods behind you. "Who's chasing you? What happened?" His voice was smooth, coaxing, calm.
You stumbled toward him, the last shreds of your resistance slipping away. His presence was comforting, the uniform a familiar sign of safety in this strange world that had turned upside down. "Please," you gasped. "I need to get out of here. Please help me."
The officer smiled, that warm, almost paternal smile that gave you a moment's feeling of cocooned safety. "You are well within safety here. Get into the car and I'll take you to the station. They won't find you."
You didn't even think twice about it. Worn out and shivering, you climbed into the passenger seat of the car. The door slammed behind you, then the engine revved into life. You sank into the seat, closed your eyes, letting the sound of the engine create an illusion of safety. Finally, you escaped. Finally, you could breathe again.
The engine growled before heading out with the officer looking at you and softening his expression to almost a grin. "A strange night out here, huh?" Are you really sure you are, okay?"
You shook your head, catching your breath. "I need to get away from those people⌠I don't know who they are but they're dangerous."
"People can be dangerous, can't they?" he mused.
You glanced at him. "Yeah, I guess. I just don't know who to trust anymore."
Soft chuckle from him, as if to sense that it sounds contrived, that it has to be learned. "What's trust? You just have to know whom to get along with and whom to avoid. It requires experience."
You just turned to the window and trees and darkness rushed by. The mind was reeling from the attempt at grasping everything that has happened as it was really too much: the town; the event; Peter's cold stare; and now thisâthis officer who has apparently materialized at just the right moment. He must be the one sent to rescue you.
"Where are we off to?" You asked
"Oh, just a little way out of town," he replied, his voice smooth, almost too smooth. "Nothing to worry about."
You nod, fatigue dragging heavily on your eyelids. For a moment, it felt good, like all was well. But then the cop's voice became a personal one.
''I'm Steve by the way, Steve Rogers. Was just coming here for a quick stroll," he began, "I never thought I was going to be out here, helping someone like you. It is really funny, how life turns out."
Brow furrowed, and incomprehension written all over the face. "What do you mean?"
The very slight narrowing of the officer's eyes at you, just for an instant, was followed by his returning gaze to the road ahead. "I spent a lot of time in these parts, and the people can be somewhatâŚ. they are peculiar. But then, I guess you already know that."
Heck, what was he talking about? "What do you mean by a little hard to understand? Who do you mean by that?"
Just above a smile, something confidential, something dark, flickered across the officer's lips. "Well, my wife, Peggy⌠she was from around here. She got them, you know? Understood what was going on. It took me a long time to realize it, but eventually, I figured it out. I did too."
Your heart stops, hammering against the confinement of your ribs. "Peggy⌠Carter?" That name rang in your mind like a bell, sharp and dissonant. You had heard that name before, only in whispers, a long time ago.
From what you remembered Peggy Carter was one of the most vicious woman in the police force, even in her short time in doing her job. One day she got married to a man named Steve and nothing was heard from her again. As if she disappeared, she completely left her job and duty, and so did Steve who was a fellow police like her who also vanished from the face of the earth. That was all you knew, and all of that happened 10 years ago. Many believed they moved. Some believed
The officer's smile brightened, but now it had no warmth. His voice went down low, as if telling you a secret you weren't supposed to know, "That's right. Peggy Carter. She was special. A part of something much bigger than either of us ever realized. I didn't understand it at first. Thought she was just a regular woman⌠but then I saw it. I saw everything for what it was."
It had caught in your throat because your mind was connecting all the dots. Peter, in actual fact, couldn't stop saying that you were here for a bigger thing, that you actually belonged. And now there is the officer, Peggy Carter, the strange village thing, the quite twisted ceremonyânow everything starts to get clearer while terrifying you.
Your pulse raced, and once more, you cast a glance at him, eyes wide with realization. "You⌠youâre one of them, arenât you? Youâre one of their⌠their plan.â
For just a second, something shadowy, something colder, flicked through his eyes; and with that flicker, somehow you knew you'd made a terrible mistake trusting him.
Steve Rogers, the cop smiled "I was hoping you'd come around sooner or later. You're a bit smarter than I thought," his voice was light, like he was discussing the weather. "However," a dangerous tremor lurked below his words. "Peggy always said you'd be the perfect addition - just like I was, just like she was."
You sprung back, your first instinct was to reach for the door handle, but before your brain could register what was happening, the vehicle shifted violently. Body flung against the door; your head crashed against the metal side with a sickening thud. Stars exploded behind your eyes, and suddenly, everything muffled.
When you woke up from what felt like the worst sleep in your life, but you weren't sleeping, or did you just doze off and you couldn't remember any of it? Everything felt like a blur, memories were juggled up, and everything seemed out of place. How did I get here again? You thought to yourself.
It was strangely silent all around. The engine's rhythmic humming gave way to a stifling, heavy silence. You couldn't move. The air around you was thick and stifling; you had a throbbing headache that was likely to make you nauseous.
You couldn't even comprehend what was happening before you saw the door of the car opened, your whole-body weight made you fall off the vehicle. You audibly groaned as your body hit the rough dirty cement
Lo and behold, standing right in front of was Steve Rogers, towering above you, his face expressionless. His cold stare that piercing through your soul at you while your arms continued to adjust the sleeves of his uniform with a calm expertise.
He circled you as if he was predator cornering its prey. He stopped just at your head. He looked at you with an expressionless face, he slowly smiled, the creepy type of smile you would see psychopaths do on movies.
You wanted to run, punch him in the face and fucking run. But you couldn't, it felt as if your feet have already given up on you, plus the blooming pain in your head made it hard to think.
"It just never gets the job done" He frowned momentarily, your eyes widened in fear as you saw him take a beer bottle from behind his back, you shook your head, no please, please, please. You tried your best to crawl away from him, but you couldn't even feel your legs.
You sobbed in defeat, but he just caressed your cheek and wiped your tears away, as if to lure you into a false sense of security. With all the softness of a feather, he said, "You'll be fine," really more to reassure himself than you. "The ceremony's just waiting for you."
Before you can act, a hard bang on your head seems to lurch your stomach. The officer had swung a beer bottle at your skull; it hit with a sickening crack and within the instant the pain exploded into darkness pressing behind your eyes, and the world went black.
It was the scent of incenseâsickeningly sweet and heavy enough to churn in the stomach. Candlelight flickered. shadows danced on stone walls, making the small space feel smaller by the second.
You woke up all lethargic with a blooming headache. You felt relaxed underneath the soft bed that you laid, but once you took in the stone walls, it felt like a train has hit you. All of the events from a few hours ago running you over.
Your mind raced, scrambling for an escape route, but all you saw was Peter standing between you and the door.
He never looked more like a stranger.
The once boyish charm which drew me to him was now a hollow mask as he hid himself behind his dark eyes. The face had no malignanceâworse, it was soft, almost tender, like he really believed in what he was about to do. And that thought haunted me most terrifyingly.
"You are trembling," Peter said, his calm and soothing voice only making the fear spike higher. "I know it's a lot, really overwhelming, taking it all at once⌠but⌠it will be okay, I promise you."
"Peter, please," you whispered, your voice breaking into pieces at the seams. You could hardly utter a word without your throat choking it. "You don't have to do this. Let me out. I promise I won't tell the policeâ"
But that was where he cut you off by shaking his head sadly. "You don't understand. This is my home. It is where I belong. And now, it is where you belong too. We are part of something bigger here. Something meaningful."
"Meaningful?" you spat. "You kidnapped me, lied to me, and brought me here toâŚ" The words cracked at the tightness in your throat. You couldn't even say them. I dawned onto you that you have been too trusting with Peer, but who wouldn't? Who knew that clumsy little sweet Peter was capable of doing something this fucked.
Peter stepped closer, casting a shadow over the too small room where it suddenly felt claustrophobic and anchoring. âI didnât kidnap you. I saved you.â
His voice is insistent, though not harsh. âYou were lost out there. Alone. No family, no one who cared about you. Donât you see? This is your chance to start over, to have a purpose. To be loved.â
âLoved?â The word struck your lips like venom. âThis isnât love, Peter. This is⌠this is sick.â
It darkened slightly his countenance, as a spark of frustration crossed his face before it was replaced by forced patience. "You're scared," he softly pronounced. "That's normal. But fear does not last. Once you embrace your role, once you understand what we're building here, you'll see that it's not sick. It's beautiful."
âNo,â you whispered, the soft sound swallowed by the thrumming of your heart. âNo, this isnât survival. This isââ
âButâ Peter cut you off firmer now like a knife slicing through your protests. âItâs already decided. The village chose you. I chose you. And now⌠itâs time to fulfill your purpose.â
Peter looked at you, with a voice deceptively soft. âItâs not about what you want. Itâs about what the village needs. What I need. We canât let our bloodline die. Every generation, we bring someone inâsomeone like you. Itâs how we survive. How we thrive.â
âNot,â that voice barely came out through the rapid pounding of your heart. "No, this isn't survival. This isâ"
The words sent the waves of nausea throbbing through you. Your knees buckled, landing you onto the edge of the bed, your body shaking violently. Peter knelt before you, hands gentle as they gripped your knees. The touch made your skin crawl, but you were frozen, paralyzed by fear.
"You are afraid," he repeated, the tone almost tender. "it needs to be this way. After the ceremony, you'll see there is clearly a need for it."
"Peter," you choked out, barely in a whisper. "Don't do this, please."
He tilted his head, softening in expression as if he really thought given how pitiful you look. "This is for them. For us. For the village. You'll thank me one day."
The door creaked open, and two women stepped in to the door. They moved with quiet, almost unnerving precision their white, long, and flowing robes covering the ground as they entered. Both had faces that seemed devoid of emotionâserene but cold as if they had performed this ritual hundreds of times before.
You instinctively tried to press yourself into the corner of the bed pulling down from Peter. âWho are they?â you asked unsure though your voice came out shaky and weak.
Peter turned toward the women; his posture casual almost welcoming. âTheyâre here to help,â he said softly as though the explanation should comfort you.
Help. The word in your stomach was like poison. You didnât need help. You needed to escape.
One of the women carried a bowl filled with a dark unknown substance that shimmered strangely in the candle's light. She laid the bowl down on a small wooden table near the bed, her movements carefully controlled. The other carried a smaller cup with her fingers clutching tightly as she looked at you.
âDonât,â you said, your voice trembling as you shook your head. âIâm not drinking that.â
Itâs just to help,â he said calmly. "Youâve been through so much. You lived so much. Youâre shaking. Youâre exhausted. This will relax you.â
âI donât want to relax!â you cracked your voice rising in desperation. âI want to leave! Please, Peter, donât do this!â
He sighed, as though disappointed but his patience did not waver. âI know youâre scared,â he said reaching out to hold his hand on your knee. âBut this isnât about fear. Itâs about trust. You trust me, donât you?â
Your stomach tilted and a cold wave of nausea was rolling over you. Why would he even ask that question? "Peter, you are not the person I thought you were. I donât trust you. I donât even know you anymore.â
Peterâs jaw tightened somewhat ever so slightly, as if flickering with guilt. Peter was the funny and clumsy guy you met at a party, but this Peter. You don't know which dimension he came from. But his guilt was immediately gone in an instant replaced by the same calm, unnervingly patient expression, accompanied with a reassuring smile that could've been comforting in different circumstances.
âItâs my fear. I think that can be said,â he said, his tone softening again. "Once you let go of this, you will see. Youâll feel better.â
He gestured toward the woman with the cup to reach closer to you. Her movements were graceful, fast rehearsed as she held the drinking. The cup itself was simple, wooden. But compared to what's inside looked nothing compared to ordinary. It was a dark murky brown with faint swirls of crimson that seemed to ripple on its own.
Your stomach churned at the sight of it, you wanted to gag at the thought of even coming in contact with that liquid, you said again "I won't drink that." Your voice barely above a whisper.
The woman didnât respond. She held the cup in her hand, as if waiting for you drink it still.
Peter reached for your hand and firmly gripped on it, but not a forceful one. "Itâs okay,â he said softly, his eyes locking with yours. âThis will help you. I promise.â
You tried to pull your hand away, but his grip tightened, and the woman moved the cup closer to your lips. Panic rolled. Your heart began to beat, and tears were falling from your eyes. âNo!â you shouted thrashing against Peterâs hold. âLet me go!â
But he didnât let go. His strength was shocking and unyielding as he held your and instructed the woman to force the drink in your mouth. The dark liquid sloshed down the rim, spilling onto your trembling chin as you refused to open your mouth, moving your head back and forth so that you could just avoid the unknown and disgusting liquid.
âPlease donât fight this!â Peter shouted; his tone now laced with urgency and desperation. "Itâs better if you just let it happen."
The woman tilted the cup and poured the thick liquid into your lips. You clenched your teeth, refusing to let it in. Peterâs hand moved to your jaw, his fingers pressing firmly until your mouth opened involuntarily. Liquid graced on your tongue, its taste vile and metallic like rotting herbs and rust.
You gagged and coughed violently as they forced you to swallow. The bitterness burned all the way down, leaving an acrid aftertaste that made you want to rip out your tongue, you fell on the bed as you gripped your throatâmassaging your throat, a pathetic attempt to soothe the taste that felt like it travelled all the way down to your throat, it didn't have any burning sensation, it just felt like your throat had taste buds.
You convulsed on the bed, âWhat the- What was that?â you asked; out of breath as you tried to gasp for air.
Peter stood âYouâre going to feel it soon,â he said, pushing a damp lock of hair off your brow.
It was a gentle warmth blooming in your chest, then outward like the bright afterglow from the strongest of drinks. Then it grew. It scorched through your veins, making your skin feel alive with a burst of tingling sensations. Your breaths came quicker as you kept trying to dismiss the feelings, but they just wouldn't listen.
âW-What is happening to me?â came the stammers from you in a trembling voice.
Peter knelt beside you again, touching your knee ever so lightly with his hand. âThe elixir is working its magic on you,â he said kindly. âIt allows you to let go. To free yourself to connect with what is meant to be.â
This warmth soon transformed into a more diabolical sensation, a slow burn that throbbed low in your stomach that stretched to your clothed womanhood. Suddenly every nerve ending on your skin was hypersensitive, sending a shiver down your spine against that crawl of fabric over your body. Heart racing, but it was hardly with fear.
âNo,â you whispered, shaking your head. âNo, this isnât right.â
Peter merely smiled all the wider and relaxed his squeeze on your shoulder. âItâs okay to feel this way,â he said. âYour body is just responding. Itâs natural.â
While your mind was telling you every reason to fight it off, your body would have none of it. That heat, the damn heat; it clouded everything snuffing off every thought but that strange feeling growing in you.
Peter leaned in closer as he whispered âThis is how itâs supposed to be. Donât fight it. Just let it happen.â
Your brain screamed against this intrusion, invoking all the force it could muster to reject it, to reject him. But your limbs felt heavy, thick, sluggish, as though they had been clapped into a steel frame. The drug took effect, you loathed it and wished to deny the dull calling of unwanted pleasure.
"Please," you managed to whisper, letting your tears flow down your cheeks. "Don't do this."
In every way this was wrong. You didn't want to partake in this, you wanted out. Peter was not the person you thought he would. Maybe he was before all of this, but not now.
Peter held your face with both his handsâgentle yet firm. "It's been done," he said, pinning his gaze on yours with steady resolve.
The heat had become unbearable; it drummed against your thoughts and created ceilings that pressed down on you. You could hardly breathe, each breath barely manageable since all control was lost over thoughts revolving around him. The very touch of him inflamed every nerve in your body.
Peter continued to lean forward until the distance separating your two faces became almost nonexistent. The darkness of his brown eyes was rendered soft, for all that, it was chillingly out of place now. "You're trembling," he said softly, his voice dipping with mock concern as he brushed his palm over your damp forehead, lingering perhaps a moment too long.
You turned your head away, yet your body was heavy and unwilling to cooperate. "P-please," you whispered, not even sure what it was you were begging for at this pointâmercy, some distance, anything but this.
Peter's hand slid down again to cradle your face, thumb grazing your cheek. The warmth of his touch felt like additional treachery against your body, which leaned into his hand, once again, even though the screams of your mind were saying otherwise. "Shh," he said, his voice dropping to a soothing pitch. "It's okay. You're safe here. With me."
His words twisted a knife that lodged in your heart, and you were still trying to find a protest when his other hand clamped on your waistâgentle yet firm. Just enough pressure was applied to make acutely aware of every detail of your closeness: the scent of wood smoke and something faintly sweet, flooding your senses and drowning all your composure.
"You've had to fight for so long," he said; there was almost a tenderness in his voice. "Let it goâlet me take care of you."
You shook your head weakly, your lips parting to say no words that would come. Everything in you resisted, heavily dulled by the drug that now crumbled your defenses and left you helpless to bask in warmth blossoming in your chest and the sickening affinity of Peter's presence.
He angled his face, gazing down at you as the thumb of his right hand traced the curve of your jaw. "So beautiful," he murmured, almost a whisper. "Yet you don't even see it? You are something elseâso special."
The tears that had built up in your eyes crashed down, scalding lines down your cheeks. "Please," you said again, but it came almost like a feeble whisper, your power to protest fractured.
Peter leaned forward, and his breath ghosted over your lips. "I've waited for this," he murmured, as though revealing a secret. "Waited for you. I thought I would never even have a chance with you since you were so fucking smitten with your dick of a boyfriend. But you're mine now,"
And before you could think, hit him back or convince him otherwise, his lips crushed against yours.
The kiss was languid, purposeful, and claiming. His mouth flowed with an unsettling confidence, an almost eerie manifestation of such rehearsed movement, if it existed at all. You wanted to break apart from him and scream and fight him, but your body let you down one last time; it was folded under the drug and against the full force of his presence.
His hands moved, one remained cradling your face, while the other tightened at your waist as a gentle reminder that you belonged nowhere else. It was a kiss more claiming than forceful, a silent proclamation of his ownership over you.
He finally pulled away but only to press his forehead to yours, feeling warm against your skin. "It's time" he whispered, it was loud enough for the women to hear. They immediately scurried out of the room and closed the door on their way out.
Before even asking what was going on, Peter attacked your neck. You shrieked at his sudden actions. He kissed, licked, and bite every single portion of your neck.
Peter's hot tongue licked your skin as he leaned closer, lips barely grazing the curve of your neck. A shiver made its way down your spine as he softly sucked on the sensitive flesh, forming this sweet vacuum that made your heart stand still.
Peter kept on kissing and nibbling at your neck, fueling his excitement that grew hotter like a fire, determined to engulf you both. His hands tightened around your waist, drawing you closer as he deepened the kiss, lips and tongue moving together in a dance that spoke both pleasure and pain.
You winced; you want nothing more but for this to end. You tried to imagine yourself in another scenario, a happy one. That one time where Harry bought you this wonderful necklace for your one-year anniversary. Things were still calm, peaceful.
You were so deep in thought that the ripping sound of fabric made you flinch. You have realized that Peter has ripped off your thin graphic t-shirt, leaving nothing but your bra on full display for him. But of course, the bra didn't stay on for long.
He ripped your bra off you with such force. He threw the bra elsewhere, that was the least of his worries as your he saw your mounds with all its glory. Blood rushed up to his cock at the sight of you half naked and slightly damp from sweat. You on the other hand just wanted nothing more but all of this to end.
Peter leaned in, his lips grazing your skin down to the soft curve of your delicate breast. His mouth latched onto your nipple, and he started to suckle; the soft gentle tug sent a jolt of sensation radiating through your body. Your hands fisted the sheets as you let out a shriek.
"You have no idea how long I have waited for this moment" His words came in muffled since he was still stuffing his face with your breasts, but you heard it loud and clear. How blind were you? Peter has been lusting over you, longer than you even met him, how come you never realized it? All the warning signs were there, but they were subtle, now they're just coming to light now that it was too late.
He had grown more daring now, sucking, kissing, and licking every inch of your breasts. He nibbled and sucked at the curves, gently biting the flesh around them. Meanwhile, his hands traveled all over her torso, cupping and squeezing dear breasts as if to remember every contour.
"So beautiful," he whispered in between kisses. "Perfect. Mine." Those words sent a shuddering chill up your spine.
Peter stared into your eyes while he was sucking and nibbling on your breasts. They would have been a sweet sight if the present state of affairs were any different.
He released your nipple from his mouth, as drool connected from his lips to your erect nipples.
With urgent impatience, Peter fumbled with the buttons of his shirt and then tore it off, revealing a sculpted torso that demanded attention. The muscles of his torso flexed while he moved, and for a second, you could not help but look at the sheer grace and control that radiated off his body.
Now, Peter had long ceased to be interested in himself; he was now concentrating all his energy and attention on you. The moment he grabbed hold of your pants, and his fingers had clasped tightly around the waistband, panic ran through you at the sight of him pulling down on them. You didn't want to give in, not now, not ever.
Your hands went straight up to push against him; you punched at his chest with all the remaining strength that you have that wasn't stripped off by the drug. Your fruitless attempt on trying to gain some space between your bodies.
"Peter, no," you said, your voice wavering but earnest. "I don't want to. Please!"
His eyes never left the prize, and nothing was going to stop him. He yanked your pants down, regardless of how you kicked and thrashed against the force with which he was pulling. Your underwear met the cool air.
A wave of embarrassment washed over you as you realized that Peter was staring down at the small scrap of fabric that barely covered you in your most intimate area.
He wrapped his fingers around your underwear's waistband. You tried to squirm away from him, but he held you tight, his grip like a vice. In one swift motion, he ripped the fabric from your body, leaving you completely bare.
Peter's eyes had wandered across every inch of your naked body, you tried to look away from him, but your face was met with a wet pillow, you didn't even notice that you have let out a few tears.
Peterâdove on to your crotch and his warm breath rolled over your sensitive skin like a wave of fire. His tongue flicked out as he suckled at your clit, and involuntarily, jolts of electricity pulsed up your spine. You attempted to push him off you once more, but Peter was far too strong
Peter continued his assault on your pussy, you felt a familiar sensation happening. You shook your head as your body betrayed you. Peter seemed to notice this, "There she is"
Before you knew it, he inserted a finger in your hole as he continuously licked your clit with such vigor.
You let out a strangled moan as your hand flew to his hair. Peter smirked at this as he slowly fucked you with his finger, which was a stark contrast to his tongue who ravished you like you were his last meal
"God, such a tasty pussy" He murmured, which just sent vibrations to your pussy. He continued, his tongue circles your clit, licking and sucking on it like he can't get enough. "Good lil fuckin pussy" He moaned as if he's the one getting head.
He continues to lap on your juices, slurping any arousal seeping through as if he hadn't drunk water in many years.
His voice low and soft, whispering how good it is, how perfect your sweet pussy was for him. "Fuck, baby, you're so fucking sweetâso good for me. God, I'm so glad your mine now." He kisses it so passionately, muttering praises to it while his tongue laps you up.
And as he continued to lick and suck at your clit, you felt a building pressure inside yourself. It felt like every nerve ending had been ignited by Peterâs ministrations.
Your legs stiffened, your hips jerked upwards, and your entire body began to tremble with anticipation.
With such joy and pain, you felt like you were seeing stars right in front of you. The intensity was too much to bear as your grip on Peter's hair tightened
That instant when the knot finally snapped and a deluge of pure, harmless ecstasy engulfed you, your body contorted, muscles oscillating and contracting rhythmically; an intense orgasm swooping upon you like a tempest.
Your legs stiffened and your toes curled in pleasure. You clutched at anything and everything. Peter's hair, bed linen, anything to hold on to the threads of reality, as everything before your eyes dissolved into an ocean of forced bliss.
River of tears were falling from your eyes. You couldn't help but reminiscence your time with Harry. For the first years you were together with Harry, he was sweet and loving, even if your relationship has turned sour after Harry found another hobby, he would never force himself inside you. When you had sex, it was always consensual.
With the final ripples of the orgasm fading away, Peter finally pulled hisâhead from between your legs. His gaze brushed over you with a kind of possessive pride, and he took the disarray of your body in the messy fondle of your hair, the daze that lingered from where he brought you so close to the edge that you fell over it, and the slick of sweat glistening over your skin.
âYou look tired,â Peter said with a soft almost guilty tone, "But I'm afraid that that was just to prepare you, were just beginning"
When those words came out his mouth you shook your head as you begged him, "Please Pete, please" You sobbed, your words barely even intelligible.
"Shhhhhhhh" He shushed you, "The more your accepting, the sooner this will end" No, you didn't want to accept this, there must be another way, there must be.
As he stood up and took off his pants, exposing his erect cock. His cock slightly bounced once the boxers were fully off of him. He climbed on top you as both of you were now fully naked as the day you were born.
"The bedding ceremony is about to beginâ Peterâsaid, low in his throat, his voice husky with desire. âIt's going to hurt, but I think I prepped you enoughâ
He then aligned his cock to your slit. You gasped as his bulbous tip entered you, he wasn't big, but he was thick. He slowly pushed hisâcock inch by inch inside you, your sensitive flesh was still sore from the previous orgasm.
Peter suddenly thrusted deep inside you, fully losing patience, with a forcefulness that took your breath away. His cock touching your cervix when he bottomed inside you, itâfelt almost painful how intense it was.
âPlease, Peter,â you pleaded, attempting to push himâaway. "You're hurting me."
But Peter just smiled at you, it gave you tinglingâshudders through your spine. âThat's the first step of the ceremonyâ he said, pulling out then plunging back in. âYou just have toâlearn to accept what Iâm giving you, if you learn maybe Goddess will reward you"
His relentless cock wasâbattering your insides, and you were starting to tear up. It was nearly unbearable agony;âthe pleasure was subtle that you could barely even get the gist of it, the searing warmth that burned itself into your very essence.
âStop,ââyou said again, trying to wriggle out of his grasp. "Please just stop."
Through the pain and the fear,âyou never lost hope. Soâyou fought back with a passion you never had before.
Your hands raked Peterâs chest, ripping at his skin to the pointâhe grunted in surprise. Your fingers sank into his skin, but he only chuckledâa sound that was hollow and empty.
Unfazed, you fought on. Your teeth dug into his shoulder, biting downâhard enough to make him hiss. But even as heâgrimaced, he wouldnât stop â his hips pumping a relentless rhythm, one that threatened to swallow you whole.
You swung your fists,âpunching into Peter's face and chest with a frenzied abandon. Forced down in front of him as he sunk his cock deep within your needy hole, youâtried to twist away, to squirm free as he held you in place, the weight of his body pinning your hands above your head, forcing you to take this.
And you tried, even though itâwas entirely pointless. You kicked your legs to tryâand buck him off you. But he was too heavy â too powerful â and he laughed again as he kept your legs pinned downâbeneath him.
With each thrust Peter grew more aggressive; almost brutal the heatâinside you was burning you up; threatening to consume all reason and make you numb.
You were lost in the agonizing bliss, as Peter's cock continued its mercilessâassault on your insides. The fire in your belly grew more intense, it feltâlike it was spreading through your insides like wildfire.
"God, you're squeezing me so hard" Peter breathed as his thrusts slowed down just a little bit.
Yet whilst you sensed you were in pieces on the inside, that you were toppling apart,âsomething in you relished it. It feltâlike your body had turned against you, reacting to the vicious attack with a disgusting cocktail of agony and pleasure.
Peterâthrusts forward and you felt your hips bucking in time with his, your mind spinning in horror. It was like your body had created its own consciousness that responded immediately to the arousal with animal instinct that couldn't beâsuppressed.
You were losing yourself in the sensations, being sucked into a world both dark and depraved, where no line could be drawn between pain andâpleasure. It was the most terrifying feeling in the world, when you wondered if you would ever find a way out of the grip of this monster who wasâresponsible for everything.
With every thrust, Peter became more aggressive, more brutal - You could feel yourself losing control; teeteringâon edge, ready to plunge headfirst into unknown; uncertainty ignited both fear and anticipation.
Your breaths were coming in small gasps now as Peter grippedâyour hips, his fingers digging into your skin like a vice. You attempted to move; attempted to wriggle againstâhimâbut it was futile: he was too strong
This friction justâpoured gasoline into the flames that had been raging within youâturning those pleasurable sensations into unbearable ones. The edge of your sight blurs out; stars dance along the border of your vision as the world narrows downâon a single point of focus: Peter
In pure ecstasy moment you found yourself surrendering, submitting to the waveâpleasure that is tearing up your body. Its fear inducing and freeing sensation â like leaping off a precipice withoutâa net â not knowing what awaits at the base.
The world went white and quiet. You hear Peters voice in your ear whispering "Come for me" and with that your body explodes into thousand pieces
You weren't sure what happened, your mind all fogged and your pussy sore. The only thing you have noticed was that Peter was still thrusting inside you.
He leaned as he whispered the most haunting words into your ear, "I almost feel bad for you. I guess you should always follow what your parents says, don't trust strangers"
@gloomskulls 2024. DON'T COPY, TRANSLATE OR USE ANY OF MY WORKS HERE OR ANY OTHER WEBSITES. Photos don't belong to me
#peter parker x reader#tw dark content#dark!peter parker#dark!peter parker x reader#dark peter parker#mcu peter parker#peter parker fanfiction#dark marvel#peter parker smut#peter parker imagine#peter parker#tw noncon#mcu!peter parker x reader#dark mcu#madi: dark content#dark fic#marvel imagine#marvel smut#dark mcu peter parker#cult au#tw#dark smut
223 notes
¡
View notes
Text
đđđđĽ đđđđŞ đťđ đđđđ đđ đŚâđŁđ đđđđ
Incl. Umemiya, Hiragi, Tsubakino, Choji, Togame
![Tumblr media](https://64.media.tumblr.com/0e9c6ede1fb62088320e8df305834627/06613fc4ccd83f5a-08/s540x810/7ddbc3578e849a4c54824a88516147abad166ec3.jpg)
Umemiya
Having grown up in a group home, Umemiya knows how to be the best care giver ever
That being said: heâs also insanely clingy and affectionate on his worst days
Heâs attentive to a T
With Kotohaâs help heâs bringing you homemade soup, full of fresh veggies from his garden
Heâs making you tea and keeping water bottles near by whenever you even mention wanting a drink
Sends his four kings out to watch over while heâs with you because he refuses to leave your side until your healthyâ doesnât matter if itâs a cold or the flu
Still cuddles with you, despite you telling him heâll get sickâ he tells you his love and affection will make you feel better
Whenever your fever spikes heâs quickly getting a wet cloth, laying it on your forehead and humming a wordless tune or telling you stories softly
Heâs there to wake you up whenever you have fever induced nightmares, and holds your hair back if you rush to the bathroom to be sick
If you even feel the tiniest bit insecure because you feel gross and greasy he shuts that down: by telling you:
âIn sickness and in health!â âThatâsâ those are wedding vows?â âHa, yeah! But think of them asâŚpre-engagement, pre-wedding vows now! Heyâ your face is all red, did your fever spike again?â
If youâre far enough into your relationship heâll help you bathe: his hands are gentle as he washes your hair, no wandering touches as he helps you clean your body
Heâs so soft you nearly fall asleep in the water, lulled into a serene peace by his soft voice and gentle touches
He combs your hair once itâs dry enough, braiding it to keep it out of your face and wrapping you your freshly washed sheets you have no idea when he had time to clean
Overall; 11/10 to take care of you when youâre sick
Even if he does end up getting sick himself after
Hiragi
You probably got sick after he warned you to bring your coat with you or not to stay up too late letâs be real
Dad sighs and twitching eyes
But heâs buying all the best meds and electrolyte drinks
I personally believe this man knows how to cook so heâs making you homemade soup, congee and other things his mom used to make him when he was sick
Brings a type of lemon âcandyâ that helps with your throat, knows they work because he keeps them on him in case Kaji needs them
He stays with you, but he gives you space
1. Because he needs to make sure he doesnât get sickâ he has to take care of you firstly, and secondly he cannot let Umemeiya free of him for too long
2. Because he knows youâll want space occasionally; to sleep, to rest, to regenerate your social battery
While you nap heâs cleaning around; washing and folding clothes, doing dishes, organizing your mailâ heâs completely husband material
When you want him near heâll have you lay your head on his lap, and heâll run his fingers through your hair and read to youâ literally any book you choose heâll read without hesitation
Heâll be so attentive and supportive when youâre sick, and he makes sure to continue to give you vitamins even after to help you avoid being sick again
But even when you are heâll be there again
15/10 heâs just so HUSBAND MATERIAL
Tsubakino
LOOK
if thereâs one thing anyone knows about me itâs I am a Tsubaki stan first and a human second
that being said
I imagine him taking care of you being sick is, while sweet, also a bit panicky
I imagine he has this weirdly insane immune system so heâs hardly ever gotten sick, and heâs also an only child so this isnât super familiar territory
but he tries
does so much research he might go a bit overboard
âMy darling! I got cough medicine, fever reducers, cooling masks, some cough drops Hiragi suggested! I got some water bottles and Suo-chan suggested different teasâ I wasnât sure which one would be best so I got all six! Nirei-chan said to get electrolytes so I got different flavors of those! And Kotoha-chan made soup! And congee! And I can order more, in fact I have a few different soups on the way!â
he just hates seeing you feel so bad
heâs a ball of nerves around you, always checking in on you and asking what you want, what you need, what youâd like
you canât even be annoyed heâs so sweet
he helps you bathe, much like Umemiya, heâs sweet and attentive
he brings over his own stuff too; bathbombs, shower steamers, hair masks, face masks
he canât make the illness disappear but youâll at least feel clean and good on the outside
he takes his time with your hair and face, and heâs basically your personal masseuse in the bath
youâre never felt so relaxed despite being as sick as a dog
even though youâre sick heâs still quick to press kisses to your cheeks and forehead, face red from fever, embarrassment, and lipstick stains now
paints your nails while you rest with a cold press on your head, tells you about the latest debacle between Umemeiya and Hiragi and Sugishita and Sakura
by a miracle he doesnât get sick
and he stores all the leftover meds and electrolytes (thereâs a lot) between your place and his so heâs prepared next time
overall: 1000000/10
realistically: 10/10 (but always 100000/10 in my eyes)
Choji
oh boy
o h b o y
let it be known you try to hide the fact youâre sick from him for as long as possible
read: you fail
heâs showing up at like 7am, waking you up and charging in
did he bring anything?
of course
heâs brought snacks
not healthy ones
youâre not hungry because youâre nauseous, so he just stores them in your fridge and comes to cuddle you
heâll wait on your every command donât get me wrong
want water? heâs grabbing you a glass
need to go to the bathroom? heâs helping you up and walking you there, waiting outside the door and helping you back
bored? heâll tell you all the thoughts in his head! and thereâs a lot!
hungry? heâs grabbing those snacks for you!
heâs attentive and sweet, but he definitely is spoiled by Togame so much heâs not entirely sure how to take care of a sick person
but heâs strong so heâll just beat your illness for you!
heâll hold you while you rest, turn your fan on when you say youâre hot, turn it off when youâre cold
he tries to braid your hair while you rest, itâs messy but he tried
he ends up getting sick before youâre even better yourself
now Togame is tasked with coming to your place and taking care of both of you
overall: 7/10
he tries he really does
but he charges in with no instructions and just love
which is great but doesnât treat the flu
Togame
he probably has taken care of an ill choji (^) so he knows what heâs doing
the patience of a saint holyâ
he comes to see you when youâre asleep, and heâs silent as he unpacks stuff from the nearby convention store
you wake up startled at him just chilling, probably drinking a ramune and reading something
he keeps his voice soft as he asks if youâre hungry or thirsty
helps you sit up as he hands you a water bottle, and if your hands are too shaky heâd holding it for you to drink out of
he wonât even let you open your mouth to apologize before heâs giving you that stupidly soft smile and telling you heâs happy to take care of you
he keeps the curtains shut so the light in your room is dim, and he brings in candles with your favorite scent so the lights donât hurt your eyes and the scent helps you feel calmer
not much of a cook himself when it comes to specific food to help you, but he grabbed take out on the way and heats up the perfect portions whenever youâre hungry
not too much so you leave food on the plate but not too little so youâre still hungry after
the man that he is
can definitely see him massaging your hands, your arms and your shoulders cause youâre tense from feeling ill
keeps a bucket or a bag nearby in case you get sick and canât make it to the toilet
does a little braid to keep your hair out of your face, jokes about how he learned how to braid his hair so heâd he perfect at it for you
tries to brew you tea, and either burns it or under-steeps it
you both opt for just water for the time being
doesnât get sick, but definitely sleeps for an entire day after youâre healthy
you both do actuallyâ a long sleep cuddled up together
overall; 13/15 i think i made myself fall more in love with him
#hajime umemiya x reader#toma hiragi x reader#tsubakino tasuku x reader#choji tomiyama x reader#togame jo x reader#windbreaker x reader#wind breaker x reader#umemiya hajime x reader#hiragi toma x reader#tasuku tsubakino x reader#tomiyama choji x reader#jo togame x reader
541 notes
¡
View notes
Text
plot twist â k. sunwoo
![Tumblr media](https://64.media.tumblr.com/074d4a6c3b767fe079a26a6248f71c76/35f6acca0b873b9d-d9/s540x810/5981a9c89b6e401f388ea2d110a1d34b6bb7fe0d.jpg)
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 miserableâ though, one would think that working with movies on the daily would prepare you for the biggest plot twist of your life.
a/n: this took me SO LONG to write woah. i have a humble playlist for this fic if any of yall wanna listen to it while you read <3 a huge thank you goes to my best friend @csenke for being my biggest motivator and hype man when it came to this fic. thank u for being my first ever beta reader hihi i couldn't have done this without you i am forever grateful ily. also im tagging @heemingyu because whe told me to
ho ho ho! this fic is a part of the secret santa event by @deoboyznet ! @kimsohn maya, i was your secret santa this year, i hope you enjoy the fic i prepared for you
TONIGHT'S PREMIERE â UGLY TRUTH (2009)
If anyone ever asked you about your job in the movie theater, you wouldnât really know what to say.Â
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 wasnât 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 âlooking for part-timersâ in a messy, giant handwriting on the glass doorâ 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. Itâs hard to enjoy the job when youâre 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.Â
Still, you canât bring yourself to quit, well, because you need the money.
Do you hate working in the cinema? No. Not really. Sure, itâs kind of boringâ especially on the nights when youâre selling tickets at the front and nobody comes in for hoursâ but itâs not that difficult. Itâs not physically or mentally demanding, so youâd say that youâre still on the better end when it comes to work environment. Your boss isnât a dick and you get paid on timeâ so really, if anyone asked you if you hated it, your answer would be no.Â
Until one fateful day, of course.Â
Youâre met with a person thatâs going to efficiently change this opinion around in one swift bat of their eyelashes and a drag of their hand through their messy hair.
âSo⌠youâre the new part-timer?â a tall boy asks you one day when you arrive at work. Youâre already wearing your uniform when you come through the front doorâ since you donât really feel like changing in the toilets that are not staff-exclusive hereâ and frankly, his voice startles you on your way in.
âYeah,â you nod, furrowing your brows at the stranger. âAnd you areâŚ?â
âSunwoo,â the boy says, matter-of-factly, as if youâre supposed to know who exactly he is now that heâs introduced himself to you. The look on your face may show that youâre still clueless, and see, thatâs something that must have played with the boyâs ego. âKim Sunwoo,â he snickers, âthe ownerâs son..?â
Blinking a few times, trying to remember if Mr Kimâs ever told you about having a sonâ he hasnâtâ you gasp like a fish on the dry, nodding. âOh⌠Hello..?â you mumble, not really knowing what to do with the information.
âHi,â he says, face stone cold and motionless. Somethingâs wrong, but you canât quite put your finger on itâŚ.Â
Well, youâll have to deal with that later. âMy shift starts in 5 minutes, so I gotta find Mr- your dad, and ask him whatâs on my to-do list today, but it was nice meeting you,â 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. Thatâs when the owner makes the popcorn while you both sell and scan the tickets at the same timeâ sometimes you wonder why he doesnât hire another person to help out with the job.
âWaitâ newbieââ
The nickname startles you, again, as you turn around and squint at him. You have a nameâ and although he has no way of knowing it (other than his father telling him, but seeming that you didnât even know about his son, Mr Kim isnât big on sharing information)â but still, youâd love to be called by it. âItâs Y/N, actually.â
âOh, rightâŚâ he hums, âwell, Y/N, dadâs not here tonight, so⌠Iâm⌠kind of in charge,â he says, nodding as he gets the words out, trying to prove his point, âhe had other things to take care of, so he sent me down instead,â he explains, watching as your face morphs into one of quick understatement.
âOh.â
âYeah,â he nods, sucking on his teeth.
Thick silence overtakes the atmosphere. You feel awkward and out of place.
âSoâŚ?â you hum, waiting for him to tell you what to do.Â
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. Youâre not gonna ask for the orders yourself. You still have some dignity.
âSo⌠I could take the ticket booth and you can clean the screening room, since there are no movies on tonight?â 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.Â
Still, youâre not gonna talk back to your bossâ son. Youâd like to keep your job for a while longer. At least until you find something better.
âAlright,â 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. âDonât forget to mop the floors! Oh, and the bathroom could use a clean as well.â
âAlright,â you nod again, your back facing him.
âAlso, you need to get the gum off the chairs, I know itâs kind of disgusting, but thereâs a-â
âI know how to do my job, thank you,â you turn, smiling ironically over your shoulder.
You donât know what it is about the man that makes you so, so incredibly irritated. Maybe itâs the fact that every bit of information coming out of his mouth sounds like heâs mansplaining everything to you. Maybe itâs the fact that you feel humiliated to be told what to do by a man thatâs your age. Or maybe, itâs just the sheer fact that you hate cleaningâ 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 itâs 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 thatâs 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.Â
You say that your work in the cinema is not physically demanding, but by the time youâre 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 ownerâs 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 didnât 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 guyâ you never know.
Little did you know that it was only going to get worse from now on, though.
TONIGHT'S PREMIERE â PALM SPRINGS (2020)
If you knew your bossâs 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.Â
Why?
The reason is quite simpleâ 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), youâre starting to think that Kim Sunwoo is mentally stuck with the brain of an 11-year old boy.Â
More so with his recent endeavors. You donât really know what heâs trying to achieve with all of this, but youâre starting to despise going to work even when you know heâs not on the scheduleâ somehow, youâre afraid his silly pranks and jokes will follow you and surprise you even when heâs not present. Is this his way of asserting dominance? You really donât 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 donât really know why one would even think of new combinations to sell at a cinema, since everyoneâs just gonna get popcorn or nachos, you donât really question the idea much furtherâ Sunwooâs father owns this place, so he must know the best marketing strategies for his business. The reality only downs on you when youâre forced to promote the âUltimate movie mixâ to every customerâ which wouldnât even be that strange, if the mix didnât include the weird combination of pickles and candy.Â
Running on two all nighters and half an energy drink, you didnât realize the snack stand doesnât even hold pickles. You were notified the day after by your boss, though, and that wasnât your best experience.
The terror follows when Sunwooâs father decides to run a Star Wars marathon one weekend. The flood of customers wouldnât 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.Â
He doesnât even say sorry. Or help clean the spilled popcorn up from the floor. Or help you make a new batch.Â
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.Â
The next shift, his dad asked you how Sunwoo did when promoting the movie. You didnât 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 nonethelessâ because, well, what else can you do? Youâre used to cleaning the toilets, since itâs a part of your job. Itâs just the fact that a guy your age told you to thatâs 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 lockedâ the sound of Sunwooâs snarky laugh coming from the other side making you recognise what just happened and how heâs 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 âIâm going to fucking quit if I see your face one more time!â. Youâre over all formalities.
That doesnât mean youâre 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, theyâd think you were trying to kill him with your stare, but the opposite would actually be the truth tonightâ 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 wasnât 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 dutyâ something that warmed you up from the inside and made you want to kiss your bossâs feet in gratefulness.Â
Thereâs just something about seeing Kim Sunwoo in misery that makes your stomach turn and do cartwheels. Youâre in love with his pathetic, tired face.
His eyes meet yours when he takes a moment to breatheâ 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.Â
Itâs not your fault heâs on duty tonight. What does he want with you?
His lips mouth âCome here,â which makes you battle a satisfied smile. Poor Kim Sunwoo is helpless in his task. The rush just wonât stop and heâs asked of more than he can handle. You kind of feel sadistic when you truly think about your sentiments, but you think youâre only valid for feeding on his misery.
âHelp!â he mouths again, and now you truly canât 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 âPlease,â 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 canât even count how many times Sunwoo left you alone in the rush before a premiere, but you canât really risk his father finding out you didnât come to rescue his beloved son, since however you might hate this job, you still canât 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 Sunwooâs side.Â
âSo Iâm supposed to help you with your work whenever you ask, but when Iâm left cleaning the whole theater completely alone, you can sit around and play on your phone?â 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.
âYeah, pretty much.â
âOkay, so Iâll be back in the ticket booth after serving this customer-â
âMy dadâs watching.â
âThis is blackmailing,â 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. âNot my problem.â
You learned long ago that fighting with Kim Sunwoo is a battle you can never win. Logically, you know youâre 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. Thatâs 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. Youâd even say itâs efficientâ 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 heâs not being the butt of the Earth, your brain starts to question why you two canât operate like this on a daily basis.
Oh, how foolish of you.
Youâre quickly brought back to reality when you walk over with the grande size bucket of popcorn towards the counter, meeting halfway with Kim Sunwooâs 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 beâ Sunwoo quickly puts the now empty cup of coca cola onto the counter and puts a hand towards his head in self-disappointment.
âKim Sunwoo, are you fucking incompetent?!â 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 coworkerâs eyes out with the claws of the demon he wakes up in you.
âLook, you donât have to-â
âI just washed this yesterday, thereâs 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?!â 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.
âAs if I did this on purposeâŚâ 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.Â
The image startles youâ Kim Sunwoo almost in physical contact with you, a paper napkin soaking up some of the coca cola flooding the surface of your skinâ 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.
âSorry-â he mumbles out as you forcefully pry the napkin out of his hand, gritting your teeth.
âIâm starting to think youâre making me do everything just because youâre useless,â you spit at him.
Rolling his eyes, Sunwoo pokes his cheek with the tip of his tongue. âIt was an accident.â
âDonât care,â you grunt, walking away from the booth, âIâm going to change in the back, you better not burn the place down with the popcorn machine before Iâm back,â you comment, sending him a sharp glare over your shoulder.
All that accompanies you to the staff room is Sunwooâs loud sigh and a sugary-sweet tone he offers to one of the customers as he throws the ruined popcorn into the trash. âIâll be right with you, miss!âÂ
If anyone asked you if you hated your job now, you think youâd say yes.
Who are you kidding?
Youâd definitely say yes.
TONIGHTâS PREMIERE â THE HATING GAME (2021)
You were quite pleased on your way to work today. Itâs Wednesday, which usually means itâs not as busy. The weather is cloudyâ 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 afternoonâ and you packed a home-made sandwich with you to eat on your lunch break. Which is whenever, since youâre on ticket booth duty todayâ another great news.Â
The best thing about today, though? Kim Sunwoo isnât working today.Â
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 donât have to interact with the hellspawn that day. Itâs like his absence alone is enough to heal all your wounds and delete all your worriesâ who cares about the fact that youâre barely getting through your Biology class when you know you wonât have to stare at Sunwooâs face as you contemplate dropping out of university during your shift?Â
Maybe you should thank him, in a way.
And with all of this knowledge, a smile plastered on your face as youâre 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, itâs 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.Â
âWhat the fuck is he doing here?â 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.
âDidnât know we were speaking to each other in third person now,â 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 outâŚÂ
âHello to you too, Y/N,â he smiles, irony dripping off his tongue, âhaving a good day so far?â
âIt was better without you here, thank you,â you snap back, rolling your eyes at him when his eyes flash with something akin to a victoryâ it seems you both take joy in making the other one absolutely miserable with your presence.
âSweet,â he nods on his way out, grinning to himself. âWell, I wonât be long, so donât let your mood drop too much.â
With that, heâs out of the ticket booth. All thatâs left behind him is the smell of his cologneâ 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 alertâ and silence. It makes you wonder about his whereaboutsâ you can never know⌠what if heâs setting up a trap for you somewhere? You wouldnât 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 youâre 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 backâ 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.
âWait! What are those?â 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.
âPosters,â Sunwoo replies, calling over his shoulder, already halfway out of the building.Â
âI know what those areââ
âThen why are you asking?â 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 themâ you think, no, you know itâs mischiefâ making the blood in your veins boil at deadly temperatures.
âBecauseâ well,â you huff, already frustrated, âweâre not allowed to take these,â 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.
âOh,â he pouts, taking the posters from below his shoulder, unraveling one of them and resting the other one against the doorframe, âso youâre telling me⌠I canât take those two amazingly big, shiny, cool posters of the latest Spiderman movie home for me and my friend Juyeon?âÂ
Youâre only half-aware of the fact that heâs teasing you right now, sighing at his innocent face. âNo, Sunwoo. You canât.â
âHm,â he hums, looking at the poster from top to the bottom, seemingly sad about the news, âthatâs terrible. Says who?â
âYour⌠your father, Sunwoo. He told me when I asked him the other day if I could takeââ
âYou wanted to take posters home from the cinema?â 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.Â
âŚHeâs 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. âWell, I really wanted the Enola Holmes poster to put up in my bedroomâŚâ you mumble.
âAnd my dad said no?â he asks, eyebrows quirking up towards his hairline.
âYes, Sunwoo. Your father said itâs prohibited to take posters home from the cinema, thatâs exactly why Iâm stopping you right now,â you say, tone filled with annoyance. You know heâs enjoying your face full of misery. But still, if thereâs one thing youâre good at, itâs following the rules and ordersâ if Mr Kim says you canât take the posters home, youâll go in the back and tear them into pieces before throwing them into the bin like youâre told to.Â
If things were going your way, youâd advise Sunwoo to do the same.Â
A day with Kim Sunwoo in it never goes your way, though. You shouldâve been prepared.
âSo I canât take those posters home because my dad said no?â 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.
âSunwooââ
âWell, Y/N-ie,â he purrs, the nickname making your hands curl up in fists, âthatâs too bad⌠because I am the ownerâs son, so⌠the rules donât really apply to me, you see.â
And with that, he sends another sickeningly sweet smile your way before he turns on his heel and marches towards the front door againâ not responding to any of your annoyed, infuriated calls of his name. He doesnât stop at your warnings. He doesnât care.
And just like that, he disappears just as fast as he appeared. The interaction didnât last more than 10 minutes, but you consider your whole day ruined.
Fucking Sunwoo and his fucking privileges. And his fucking annoying face.Â
Itâs not even that important. Itâs just two posters that would get thrown out to the dumpster in the back at the end of your shift anyway. You donât even care about those posters in particularâ you just with equal rules applied to all workers in the workplace.
Itâs not like Spiderman Homecoming is one of your favorite movies⌠not at all.
You couldâve had that poster. You deserved that poster. You sold tickets for it and served the snack booth when it premieredâ not Kim Sunwoo and whatever his friendâs name was.
You kick the wall with your sneaker. It leaves a dirty mark.
You shouldâve known the day felt too good to be true.
TONIGHTâS PREMIERE â MUCH ADO ABOUT NOTHING (1993)
Thereâs a new thing Mr Kim is trying to lure more customers into the cinema. He calls it âRewind Thursdaysâ, 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 itâs a good ideaâ 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 townâs 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 heâd 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 donât 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 heâll get through it and see what he can incorporate.Â
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, heâs 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 fatherâs 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 heâs out of your sight and isnât ordering you around is enough to calm your nerves. It could always be worse, you remind yourself. It could always be worse.
âI have the schedule of âRerun Thursdaysâ all done,â 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?
âItâs âRewind Thursdaysâ, actually,â you note, pointing towards the very obvious mistake on the top of the poster.
âOh fuckâ you know what, not anymore,â he scowls, taking the poster back from you and pointing glares at the title he mistyped, âI spent 3 hours on this, Iâm not remaking it.â
âIt looks like a kindergartener did it,â 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.
âWell, if my father wanted this to look professional, he shouldâve hired someone to do it,â he mutters, obviously hurt by your harsh words, âI used Canva. I donât know how Photoshop works and my dad can barely operate the computer, so this is what weâre going with, okay?â he says as he explains, big eyes suddenly bearing into yours. âUnless you wanna redo it yourselfâŚ?â
âAbsolutely not.â
âThen this is the final poster,â he says, âIâm gonna hang those outside when we close,â 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 youâre certain Mr Kim has another Christmas-themed business tactic up his sleeve).Â
âDid any of your movies make it?â Sunwoo asks, surprisingly friendly. You canât remember a single casual conversation with the maleâ 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 itâŚ), so youâre 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. Itâs like a dream come trueâ you can finally see your favorite movie in the cinema for the first time. You donât know who to thank for this miracle, but something in your insides feels very grateful.Â
âYeah,â you say, trying to seem unaffected. Youâd 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.
âWhich one?â he asks, seemingly interested.
âNational treasure,â you hum, pointing to the movie on the list, having Sunwoo nod to himself. You expect him to say something to youâ perhaps engage in a conversation like a normal person wouldâ 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.
âOh, by the way,â he starts, watching as you unfold the paper, âI know we donât usually work on Thursdays, but since my dad decided to do all of this, we kinda have to, since he wouldnât be able to handle the premieres on his own, so⌠Here's your schedule for the next 4 weeks,â 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.
âI work the second week?â you ask, as if the question might magically change the schedule.
âI mean, I think you can readâŚâ 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.Â
And sure, you might think this is goodâ you can just watch the movie while you work!Â
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.Â
There is no time for you to watch National treasure if youâre working.Â
Sighing, you decide to do something you always prohibited yourself from doingâ you ask Kim Sunwoo for a favor. âListen⌠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?â you ask, looking at your coworker with what you presume are pleading eyes. You hope it works on the boyâ he looks like the type to fold under a tender gaze.
âSo you want to get out of work only to still come?â Sunwoo clarifies, snickering.
âPretty much, yeah,â you nod, tapping your fingers on the table.
âWell, the schedule is set,â Sunwoo shrugs, âI canât do anything about it.â
Eyes sending darts to the very middle of Kim Sunwooâs forehead, you take a few calming breaths before you speak up again. You donât want to blow up on him when youâre asking him for a favorâ you donât think this approach would help you much in the situation.
âWhy?â
âBecause,â he shrugs.Â
âBecause?â you repeat. âThatâs the reason?â you say, a weak laugh dragging out of your throat.
âPretty much, yeah,â he mirrors your previous response, the blood in your veins already growing hot from the confrontation.
âSunwoo, youâ come on,â you say, âjust this once, please? Iâll take the first week. We can just switch, whatâs the difference?âÂ
Sunwoo tongues the inside of his cheek, eyes pointing towards the paper. âSchedule is schedule, Y/N. You have to follow it,â he says, an innocent look glazing his big fuckass boba eyes. Oh how you despise that look. Itâs the look that tells you he finds this all so, so amusing, but wonât laugh in your face in hopes of teasing you some more.Â
âOh, amazing,â you say, throwing the schedule to the table, âI 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,â you grunt, annoyance flowing through your brain and making you truly mercilessâ you have no proof of Sunwoo even knowing which movie of yours made it in, or proof of him making the scheduleâ you donât 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 canât do that, though, so a screaming match will have to do the job.
âStop being so dramatic,â he scoffs, eyebrows furrowing. âI didnât even know which one your favorite movie was, so how could I do this on purpose? Plus, I didnât even make the schedule, my dad didââ
âAs if I would believe that,â you roll your eyes, huffing. âYouâre all ownerâs son privileges this, ownerâs son privileges that, but when I ask you for one thing, one! Single! Fucking! Thing! You canât do it,â you bite, words dripping in spite.
âLook, I really canât-â
âYou canât do this one thing for me?â you cut him off, the question sounding like an ultimatum.
âNo,â he shakes his head, seemingly unaffected by the conversation.
âBecauseâŚ?â you demand a valid reason.
âBecause I just canât,â he shrugs, casual and cool.Â
The world stills for a moment. You calculate your next move. Blood rushes in your ears, you see red. Your eyes fall on the clockâ itâs 4 minutes after your shift. Thatâs it.
You take your coat draped over the chair, stand up from the chair and dash towards the front door. You canât stand being around this man any longerâ all he does is bring misery into your otherwise, already boring life.Â
Speedwalking out of the place, you yell out a harsh âGo fuck yourself!â over your shoulder, leaving Sunwoo to close the cinema by himself. You donât even change out of your uniform before you goâ your head is too clouded with anger to remember to do so. Cursing out your coworker isnât the best thing you could do in this situation, more so when heâs the ownerâs son, but suddenly, you donât really care about losing your job at the cinema anymore.
Maybe you should quit yourself, actually.
TONIGHTâS PREMIERE â HOW TO LOSE A GUY IN 10 DAYS (2003)
In your books, there arenât 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 hoursâŚÂ
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 youâre getting in between classes, work, and writing your essays until 3 in the morning, you beg god for a calm shift. Itâs Wednesday, the first week of Mr Kimâs âRewind Thursdaysâ event, and it just so happened that you were set to work the first half of the week while Sunwoo got the other half.Â
The only thing keeping you going is the fact that you and Sunwoo will now basically not see each otherâs face for the next four weeksâ with the exception of Fridays and Saturdays, the premiere days. Youâre getting a lot of shifts this month, but hey⌠Christmas is coming. At least youâll have plenty of money to buy gifts for everyone this year. (Or not. Youâre very underpaid.)
Entertaining yourself by watching the world outside of your window and mentally betting on the race of raindrops falling down the glass surfaceâ because your phone battery almost ran out during class this morning and you forgot to bring your charger with youâ you hope you donât 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), youâre certain youâd lose your job after taking a nap in the ticket booth. Some things just canât be accepted.Â
Cat fights with his son? Perfectly acceptable. Sleeping on the clock? Not so muchâŚ
Eyes drooping when the third raindrop race doesnât 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 nowâŚ
Wrong.
âGood morning, sleeping beauty,â the noise of a thunderâ actually, no, that was just someoneâs voiceâ wakes you up and makes you jump in your chair, your knee hitting the bottom of the table making you hiss in sharp pain.
âFuck, manââ
âDidnât know taking a nap was in the job description,â 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.
âI wasnât sleeping,â you mutter, not even meeting his eye.Â
âOh?â
âYeah⌠just had⌠my eyes closedâŚâ you hum, scratching the back of your neck. Clearing your throat, you look back up at him with an disinterested look on your face. âAnyways, what do you want? Youâre off today.â
Scanning his figure, fully taking in his appearanceâ 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 flushedâ you presume itâs from the runningâ and his hair is falling into his face. You can barely see his eyes behind the curtain of chocolate locksâ he really needs a trim.
âDamn, didnât know you hated me so much that you canât stand seeing me on my off days,â 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 twoâ you think youâd give him a fist to the nose if you ever felt his breathing on your skin.
âI do,â you agree, impatiently drumming your fingers on the top of the table, âso tell me what you want so you can disappear again,â you say.
âI just went to check up on whether you were sleeping or not so I can tell my dad to fire youââ
âKim Sunwooââ
He puts his arms up defensively, eyebrows raising at your threatening tone. âOkay, not really. I donât actually care that much. Besides, you promised to quit yourself anyway, so,â he explains, shrugging to himself, âbelieve it or not, Iâm here to buy tickets for a movie.â
You shoot him a stare, the look in your eyes dead, stone cold as you ponder on his words. Itâs cold outside, itâs 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.
âYou work tomorrowâŚ?â you mirror your inner monologue, kind of confused at the turn of events.
âYou know my schedule? Iâm flatteredââ
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 himâ you bet the day would be so much better if you donât have to listen to him talk.Â
âWhy donât you just buy the tickets tomorrow when you work? Didnât have to walk here in the rain,â you explain, sighing to prove just how annoyed you are with his presence.
âBecause I kinda need them today,â he says, clarifying to you with the tone you use when you explain mundane things to a child.
You donât know what he did in his past life to get the ability to annoy you each and every time you meet him, but youâd like some of it to get back at him in your next life. Why youâre even thinking of past lives and the possibility of meeting Kim Sunwoo in your next one, youâre 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.
âOkay,â you nod, painfully calm for the amount of screaming youâve been doing internally, âwhat movie?â you ask, turning your body to the computer on your right and breaking eye contact with him. If heâs a customer, youâre going to treat him like oneâ no small talk and no arguments. You wonât ruin your day even more over a man that doesnât know what chapstick is. (You donât stare at his lips, just for the record. Itâs just painfully obvious when he talks. Sometimes you want to reach over and pluck away the dead skin with your fingersâ you wonât, though. That would be weird.)
Sunwoo straightens his back as he fishes for his wallet in the front pocket of his jeans. âNational Treasure,â he smiles, making you break into cold sweat, âtwo tickets, please.â
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 senseâ 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.Â
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 youâd claw his eyes out if you had the chance.
âYou have to be kidding me.â
âWhat? I canât buy tickets for a movie?â he asks, innocence dripping off his tongue.
Breathing deeplyâ while trying to contain the demon thatâs begging to crawl out of your insides and tear him into 25 different piecesâ you smile ironically at the male, gulping before you speak. âThat would be 12 dollars, please,â you say, your customer service voice turning kind of eerie.
Not even letting the male choose his seatsâ he lost the privilege when he decided to come and buy the tickets for your favorite movieâ 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.Â
âHave a nice day,â 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 youâd need those when you saved the post into one of your boards on Pinterest.
Still, you canât help yourself. You simply cannot. You let it outâ itâs not healthy to keep negativity inside.Â
He canât hear you, but you still mutter a spiteful âI hope you choke,â under your breath as you settle back into the uncomfortable surface of the chair.
TONIGHTâS PREMIERE â YOUâVE GOT MAIL (1998)
Remember the time you said you didnât 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 Sunwooâ whose number you didnât even want to save into your contacts, but after his insisting that itâs for work purposes, did so under the name âdumpster raccoonââ telling you that you have to get to work immediately, that his dad said so, and that itâs an emergency.Â
Do you believe him? No. Absolutely not.Â
His tone of voice was too calm to be in an emergency. If his dad wanted you to come to work today, he couldâve called you himself instead of making his son do it. And also, you really donât know whatâs so important to take care of on a Wednesday, since itâs the slow day of the week, but stillâ 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.Â
Because you never know. He might be saying the truth, after all. And if that was the case, you didnât 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 youâve ever seen one.
âWhat was so important for you to call me to work and then chill in the ticket booth all afternoon?â you ask, spite slipping off your tongue with every word you speak.Â
Sunwoo looks up at you from under his eyelashes, hair still slightly shielding his eyes. He doesnât even have his uniform onâ thereâs 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 hipsâ and the more you stare at him, the more you feel like punching him in the face.
âOh,â he hums, stretching out his limbs from the hours of sitting on the chair unmoving, âdad said to tell you to clean the screening room. Since itâs Thursday tomorrow, and all.â
The look on his face is innocent. He looks like he just told you the most casual piece of informationâ and truth be told, he kind of did. The whole thing is just not making any sense right now.Â
âI should clean the screening room today? Youâre on the clock, though, why donât you do it?â 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.Â
âYeah, but I am on ticket booth duty, so I canât,â he shrugs, frowning a little to prove his nonexistent point.
âItâs Wednesday. Itâs not busy. You know you can do both.â
âLook, itâs not me, itâs my dadââ
âIs it? Is it, Sunwoo?â you huff, arms flying into the air. âOr are you just using me to do the work you donât feel like doing? Because it really does seem like that right now,â you bite, running your hand through your hair in exasperation.Â
âDo you want me to call him?â Sunwoo asks, tone of voice suddenly threatening.Â
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. (Youâre adding printing out Sunwooâs 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, youâre 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.
âKim Fucking Sunwoo, why the fuck did you call me to clean an already cleaned screening room?!â you yell, not really knowing if he hears you or not. Doesnât matterâ 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. âYou really think this is funny? Youâre having fun pranking me all the time? I hate your guts, Kim Sunwoo, and I hope you burn in hell!â
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, itâs clear as day.
Thereâs a movie playing. And the movie playing is National treasure.Â
You think youâre 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. Youâd knowâ you worked the snack booth that day. The screening room is empty and itâs Wednesdayâ whatâs going on?Â
âCan you sit? Or are you just going to watch the movie standing in the aisle,â 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.
âWhat⌠what is this?â you ask, frozen in the seat.Â
âHm?â Sunwoo frowns, looking at you. âNational treasure,â he hums, âI thought youâd know, since you threw a scene about it that one time.â
âI- I know that, I justâŚâ you trail off, still surprised at the turn of events, âwhatâs going on right nowâŚ?â
âWeâre watching National treasure,â he notes, talking to you as if you were slow.
âWhatâŚ?â
A sigh escapes Sunwooâs 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. âLook, Y/N. You said you wanted to watch your favorite movie in the cinema, so thatâs what youâre doing. Enjoy my ownerâs son privileges for once,â 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.
Thereâs something about the whole gesture that makes your stomach feel uneasy. Sunwoo did something nice for youâ out of the kindness of his own heartâ and you really donât know why he would even think of something like this. You two arenât 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.Â
Yeah, you must be the one thatâs gone batshit insane. Surely. Youâre 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 handâ but the feeling of his slightly cold hand against your fingertips is now engraved into your memory and wonât leave and let you focus on the movie no matter how hard you try.
âYou wouldnât have to do this if you just let me switch schedules with you that time,â you note, âjust saying.â
âI couldnât,â he shrugs.
âHuh? But you bought two tickets..?â
âYeah, but those were for my friends. I had to drive my mum down to grandmas that day, so I couldnât go or take your shift that day,â he hums, not once breaking eye contact with the screen.
âIf you wouldâve just said so, I wouldnât have made a scene about itââ
âYeah⌠but I enjoy watching you make a scene,â 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.
âYou need to get serious help, then,â you grunt, pointing your gaze back towards the screen, unable to look at his face for any longer. Heâs being annoying again. Youâre annoyed.
âProbably,â 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 youâre starting to think that if Sunwoo just didnât 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 Sunwooâs 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 canât stand him around you. You two canât share this close of a space.
âAre you not leaving?â you ask.
âNo,â he hums, âshould I be?â
âWell, youâre on the clockâŚâ
The man snickers, shaking his head in disbelief. âY/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 todayâs sales.â
His hand knocks into yours again as you reach for more popcorn. You gulp, nodding. âRightâŚâ
âAnd I wanted to see the movie to see if itâs really that good to make a scene about it,â he teases, another playful look sent your way from the corner of his eye.
You grunt, rolling your eyes. Oh how you hate his gutsâŚ
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 feelâ even the slightest movement of his body affects you and makes your brain turn on overdrive. Itâs strange and itâs weird, and you donât understand how hatred for a person could manifest in such reactions.Â
Itâs better that you didnât notice you two sitting in the love seat. God knows you wouldnât handle that well. Youâd rather die than to hold on to that knowledge.
TONIGHTâS PREMIERE â 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 townâs square, you can only agree with the sentimentâ 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 âtoo expensiveâ â 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 outâ 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 movieâ 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. Itâs Friday, which means itâs 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.Â
Itâs not a hard job. Not at allâ you would even say nothing about working in the cinema is hard, when you donât have an annoying coworker trying to make your whole life a living hellâ but you see, customers love to make your job harder just by being unreasonably rude about things that are clearly out of your control.Â
âSir, I really canât let you in, Iâm sorry,â 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 doesnât mean you can let the man inside without a valid ticket.
âWhat do you mean? Little one, Iâm telling you I bought the ticket here, so if you donât let me inââ
âAll tickets purchased for the screening should be able to scan through this, sir, and if it doesnât work, I am not allowed to let you inside of the cinema,â 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 wouldnât 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. âIâm gonna have to ask you to leave, sir, or maybe check in with the owner about the issue? I donât have the competence toââ
âListen, I wonât be talking to anyone, because you will let me in, okay?â
âSir, I canât-â
Your sentence is cut off by the man again, his fury making you take a step backwards in fear. âAnd if you donât, you will see the consequences.â
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 busyâ the line is long and Sunwoo isnât working today. Itâs just the two of you today, so your options are getting slimmer. You canât let that man in without a working ticketâ it seems like the one heâs showing you is either a fake one, or bought in another cinemaâ but it seems like if you donât, heâll have you dead before the next morning.Â
âSo?â
Opening your mouth to answer (although your brain is still empty and you donât even know what more to say), a low voice coming from behind you startles you in the middle of your crisis. âIs there a problem here?âÂ
Turning your head to the source of the voice, youâve 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.Â
âYour coworker here wonât let me in to watch the movie,â he complains, hand waving around in a threatening way.Â
Just having Sunwoo around makes you more confident. Clearing your throat, your eyes dart to your coworker, seeing his face morph into irritation. âIt wonât scan his ticket, soâŚâ
âIf it wonât scan your ticket, it means itâs invalid and weâre not allowed to let you in,â Sunwoo says, tone of voice way less polite than the one you were using before.
âThatâs ridiculous-â
âYou are ridiculous,â Sunwoo grunts, annoyance clearly written all over his face. âYou were asked to leave, so maybe you should.âÂ
Truth be told, youâve 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 spiteâ 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 heâs 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 canât say you donât feel safer with him aroundâ you would be lying.
âMaybe you could just let me in and get this over withââÂ
âAnd maybe you could fuck off,â 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 heâs not watching the premiere tonight, because he backs off and grits his teeth at the male.
âYour boss will hear about this,â he threatens, making Sunwoo chuckle.
âIâm sure he will.â
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 doesnât make you rest easy as you greet the rest of the customers.Â
You didnât 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: âYou okay?â
âWhat?â you ask, surprised by the question, âoh. Yeah, Iâm fine. He was just⌠being a bitch, the usual.â
âYeah,â he snickers, âwhy didnât you just scream at him like you do to me? I bet that would scare him away,â he notes, making you roll your eyes at the comment.
âBecause he looked like he could beat me up, Sunwoo.â
âAnd I donât?â he gasps, suddenly offended.
You scan the boy up and down, pretending to think it over for a few before you shake your head. âNo,â you shrug, âI could beat you up.â
âExcuse you?â he gasps, crossing his arms at his chest in a defensive stance, the shock on his face mixing in with amusement.Â
âDonât believe me? Wanna try?â you test, the conversation suddenly flowing freely, without you even noticing. You donât pay it much thought, but you guess getting along with Sunwoo is easier when heâs on your side. Most of the time, heâs not, thoughâ and maybe thatâs the problem.
âOkay,â he nods, âmeet me in the back when youâre off. No weapons allowed, weâll do it the street style. This is a battle of fists,â he points a finger at you, the sentence making you sigh dreamily and point your eyes towards the ceiling.
âYou canât even imagine how long Iâve been waiting for this moment.â
Sunwoo smiles at thatâ that dumb, boyish smile you usually so despiseâ and shakes his head at your antics. The conversation dies down a bit after the exchangeâ 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. âWant me to stay for a bit, or are you good now?â
âI can take care of myself, Sunwoo,â you sigh, âyou can go about your day.â
âWell, it didnât seem like it a few minutes agoââ
âI can take care of myself when Iâm not confronted with a tall muscled man that is threatening me, Sunwoo,â you repeat, looking at the rest of the line, âso 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.â
âI am,â he nods, rocking a little in his place, shifting weight from his heels towards his toes, âI was just⌠here to drop off something for you,â 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.Â
You shoot the boy a curious look, eyebrows furrowed in question. You donât 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. âIâll see you in the back after youâre done for that fist fight, then. Bye!â
And before you get a chance to say anything back, Sunwoo swiftly turns on his heel and awkwardly marches towards the front door. You donât have much time to inspect the thing he dropped off for you, but after youâre done with scanning the tickets and have time to breathe when the movie starts, you allow yourself to peek insideâÂ
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.Â
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 itâs safe and sound until you can bring it home with you, you wonder why you havenât been civil with Kim Sunwoo before.
Itâs good to have a taste of his ownerâs son privileges sometimes.
TONIGHTâS PREMIERE â ME BEFORE YOU (2016)
The day is Friday, the 1st of December. Mr Kimâs âRewind 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 conditionâ you come in the morning (since you told him your classes are done for the semester, heâs 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 youâve been needing before your exam season starts.
âCan you get the ladder from the back?â Sunwoo asks, tone of voice not at all interested. You donât know what the reasoning behind his mood is, but you figure itâs either the fact that he had to get up before 12, or the fact that he doesnât really seem like the type to like decorating.
âWhy donât you get it?â you huff, wiping your forehead off the sweat thatâs cumulated on it over the time you spent bringing out all the boxes full of decorations out of the staff room. âI brought everything in, maybe you can do some work for once.â
One would think your dynamics with Kim Sunwoo would shift after heâs been nice to you on multiple occasions. And sure, you donât really fight with him as often and he hasnât pulled a prank on you in a while, but some days, his whole presence is still just as annoying to you as itâs been for the past couple of months. Thereâs not really much you can do about itâ especially not when heâs bossing you around and not doing any actual work himself.
âI built the christmas tree,â he grunts, opening one of the boxes full of ornaments, squinting at the contains with disgust on his face. âAnd I put up all the other useless stuff before you got here too,â he says, pointing a glare at you.Â
Looking around the theater, you notice various types of decorations all over the place. Thereâs 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 doorwaysâ the greenery making the whole place decorated in a very vintage tone. Itâs fitting to the theme of the cinema, though, and you can tell that Sunwoo really canât be arsed to do any better, so you donât 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 donât 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 donât know whatâs up with him, but again, you wonât ask. You try to tell yourself that you donât really care either, but with every glance towards his direction, the question keeps bugging you and dancing around your brain.Â
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. Youâre an expert in untanglingâ you donât 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 pantsâ itâs a mystery. Almost like the Bermuda triangle.Â
âI can do it myself,â Sunwoo huffs, eyebrows furrowing when he watches you work your magic.
âYou seemed like it too,â you ironically note, letting the spiteful side of you win, enjoying yourself when youâre rewarded by the snarky roll of Sunwooâs eyesâ everything is back to normal. You two arenât friends, you donât like to be in each otherâs presence, and no number of shiny stolen posters and private sessions in the screening room will ever change that.
âHold this,â 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 youâre 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. Youâre glad that the lights are long enough to cover the whole thing and you donât have to untangle another ones, and when youâre done, you watch your coworker plug them in, examining the small, colorful light bulbs.Â
âOkay, now the ornaments,â 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 donât really know what color scheme Mr Kim wants you to go forâ 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 itâs for the best if you two donât speak today when heâs 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 shouldâve known you canât 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 donât go together at all and you want to claw your eyes out every second you have to stare at it.
âSunwoo, those colors donât go together at all,â you say, point and blankâ no sugarcoating, no offensive words, just straight facts.
âWhat do you mean?â
âI mean, that tree looks terrifying, and itâs all because you ruined it,â you say.
Okay, maybe you are overreacting just the slightest. But isnât 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?Â
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. Youâll 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, youâre battling the urge to laugh.
âFine, do it yourself, then,â 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 donât know whatâs 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 thatâs 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.
Youâre not really big on Christmas, but you must admit that this is fun.Â
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 whatâs the matter. Youâre not supposed to care. And you donât.
âCanât you put some festive music on?â you ask instead, your lips just begging to have a conversation with the male, despite your best judgment.
âNo,â 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.Â
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 youâre not sure heâll appreciate. âWhatâs up with you? Youâre bitchier than usual,â you say, scanning the male with cautious eyes.
Sunwoo stops for a whileâ a millisecond of him halting his scrolling, an action you wouldnât notice if you werenât trying to see any shift in his composureâ before he speaks up again. âNothing,â he shrugs.
âOkay,â you say, a tone of voice full of doubt.Â
When you conclude that youâre 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.
âIâm just not in the mood today,â he sighs, âI have a final next week and itâs stressing me out, I havenât slept well in quite a few days, my dadâs making me work more than usual and on top of that, I absolutely hate winter.â
âYou hate winter?â 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.
âYeah,â Sunwoo chuckles, âitâs like a shittier fall. Itâs cold and dark all the time. It would be different if it snowed, though. I love it when it snows.â
Snickering at his sudden confession, you shake your head. âYouâre like a little kid.â
âI remember you calling me a child once,â Sunwoo hums in agreement.
âThat was different,â you say, hoping to cheer the male up at least a bit with your usual quarrel.
âI figured by the way you threw the toilet brush to my chest,â 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 timeâ maybe you should consider this a wake-up call.
The conversation quiets down for a bit, even the sound of Sunwooâs 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. âDonât worry about that exam, by the way. Iâm sure youâll do well.â
âHow would you know?â
âYouâre clever. You need to be clever to come up with all various ways to make my life more miserable,â you say, smiling when you hear him let out a breath of air through his nose, signaling a silent laugh.
âAny advice on the sleepless nights?â he asks, tone of voice light and humorous.
âLess things in your head,â you hum, putting the last ornament onto one of the branches, satisfied with your work. âOr melatonin.â
âNoted,â 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 boyâs inner child by doing a child's favorite activity. âDo you want to put the star on?â
He fails you, though. âNo.â
âWhy not?â
âYou decorated it all yourself, so you can do the star,â he shrugs, not really into your idea.
âOh come onââ
âI donât feel like standing up,â Sunwoo grunts, the joy on your insides finally dying down when you get a taste of his usual composureâ the one that really canât be arsed with anything.Â
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 youâre 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 todayâs work responsibilities.
Something akin to satisfaction beams in your insides as you climb down the ladder, and now, youâll write this off to you being a little too excited with the vision of a face mask and popcorn at homeâ 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 personâs strength used to balance you two on your feet as you fell (well, your knees buckled, but still, they havenât 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.
âLook where youâre stepping next time, for fuckâs sake,â 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 heâs 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.Â
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.Â
âThis wouldnât have happened if you just agreed to put the star on,â 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.
Itâs workingâ at least thatâs what you keep telling yourselfâ 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. âIf you say so.â
Okay, so itâs not working.
Youâre fucked.
TONIGHTâS PREMIERE â THE PROPOSAL (2009)
âSo⌠I was thinking,â 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, âwould you want to go see a movie with me?â he asks, tone of voice casual, as if he was asking you about the weather.
The poster youâre 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. âHuh?â you hum, taking out a container full of pins out of your coat pocket and securing the poster to its designated place. âYou want to bring money to your fatherâs competitor?â you joke.
âWhat? No,â he quickly replies, furrowing his brows as he shakes his head. âI meant, like, here,â 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.Â
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 didnât know it was enough to hang out outside of work hours.Â
Instead of focusing the conversation on this unpredictable development, you turn towards clearing out the logistics instead. âHow would we even do that? We either work at the same time or you work when I donât and the other way around,â 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 stillâ you canât really imagine watching a festive movie with your coworker. Up until last week, you thought of him as the next reincarnation of Grinch.
âI could get my sister to switch with me on a day you donât work,â he hums, sheepish about his preposition. Thereâs 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. Youâre 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 donât need to add the switch in dynamic to the mix.
âIsnât she underage?â you ask, snickering.
âYeah, and?â he shrugs. âItâs a family business, Y/N. Everyone has to be included, underage or not.â
A laugh erupts out of your throat at the comment, shaking your head at the boy in disbelief.Â
âWhat would you even wanna see? Those are all Christmas movies,â you say, moving along and focusing your attention to the glossy material in your fingers.
âI donât see how thatâs a problem,â he says.Â
âOh, it is,â you mutter, âI donât like Christmas movies.â
Sunwoo grunts. âWell, I donât really care. I saw your favorite movie with you, so you can return the favor and see my favorite movie with me,â he speaks up, making you roll your eyes at his words.
âThereâs no way any of those movies is your favorite,â you note, doubtful tone haunting the boy.
âYou wouldnât know,â 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.Â
âI wonât go unless I believe you,â you say, grinning as you close the glass box and take the last poster out of Sunwooâs hands, watching as the boy puts his frozen fingers into the comfort of his warm jacket, shielding them from the cold.Â
âNot fair.â
âVery fair, actually.â
âOh come on,â he sighs, shaking his head in disagreement, âI thought we could watch a Christmas movie as a celebration to the end of semester,â 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 itâs flying, making you clear your throat as you avert your gaze towards the line of Christmas movie posters on the brick wall. âFine,â you gulp, âso what do you wanna watch?â
âThe Polar Express,â 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 anywayâ as if he was aware.
Fuck, you think. Thatâs my favorite.Â
âAbsolutely not,â you cough, âI hate that movie.â
âHuh? How?â he sighs, face full of disappointment.Â
âJust because. Itâs too long.â
âItâs not even two hours?â
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. âYouâre working on the 18th.â
âOkay, then we can go on the 19th,â Sunwoo says, determined to make you watch the movie with him. Why? You donât even want to know at this point.
âI go home for Christmas break on the 19th,â you say, shrugging. âSee? It wasnât meant to be.â
âY/N, come onââ
âListen, canât we just go back to hating each other instead of you annoying me about this stupid movie?â you sigh. In the whirlpool of events, you forgot just how insistent Sunwoo could beâ 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 Sunwooâs 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 ticketâ youâre not gonna change your plans because of a man you despised just a few days ago.
âI never really hated you, by the way. Besides, youâre only saying that because you hate the movie,â Sunwoo grunts, chiming in front of youâ making you think heâs being petty and doesnât 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, itâs sitting in the ticket booth in silence. For Sunwoo, itâs pretending to work in the back, since his dad is absent today again)
Reciprocating his gaze, noticing the disappointment behind your coworkerâs eyes, you feel something in your stomach drop, the weight of it so heavy you quickly avert your look.Â
âMaybe,â you shrug.
And maybe, the true reason is something completely else.Â
The words resonate through your brainâ âI never really hated you, by the wayâ. Funny. Then what were all those months of torture all about?
You decide you no longer want answers.
TONIGHTâS PREMIERE â WHEN HARRY MET SALLY (1989)
You canât believe youâre 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.Â
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. Thereâs no turning back now, you tell yourselfâ 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. Sunwooâs mouth goes agape, shock overtaking his features when he takes in your appearance. (You bet he thinks you look laughableâ your eyes teary from the cold and your figure stoic, numb limbs hanging by your side.)
âWhat are you doing here?â 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.
âUh⌠I forgot some things in the back and I wanted to take them home tomorrow, so I came back for them,â you hum, the practiced excuse slipping out of your lips with ease, âcan you come help me?âÂ
Sunwoo looks even more surprised at your questionâ 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. âWhat? Canât you get it yourselfâŚ?â he asks, noticing as you shake your head in disapproval.
âItâs⌠itâs on the top of the lockers and I canât reach it, so-â
âGrab a chairâŚ?âÂ
You didnât really expect to have Sunwoo question your half-assed excuse. Truly, you thought this was going to go smoothlyâ but knowing Kim Sunwoo, you shouldâve known it was never going to go the way you planned. Youâre determined to win, though.Â
And so itâs the time to bring out the big gunsâ men never say no when you praise them and make yourself look incompetent.
âPlease? I donât feel like bringing a chair and youâre tall enough. It will only take a secondâŚâ 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.Â
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 havenât 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 overwhelmedâ 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.)
âWhat⌠are we doing here?â 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.
âDidnât you say you wanted to watch The polar express with me?â you ask, voice a few octaves higher than usual.Â
âI⌠didâŚâ he mumbles, confusion making him stumble over his own words.
âWell, you are working and I leave tomorrow, so I figured I had to find a wayâŚâ you shrug, watching as Sunwoo looks at you a little frozen, big eyes staring you down, gears turning in his head. You canât really read himâ you donât really know if heâs going to laugh at you or send you home for ruining his shift. You donât know if he appreciates the gesture, or if he thinks youâre being embarrassing. You donât know if he registers the slight tremble of your hands and the lightness of your breathing, you donât know if he realizes how much his reaction could make your day or completely ruin it (just like always), and so, you panicâ and when you panic, you ramble. âI know we are technically not supposed to be hereâ well, me, at leastâ but I think that being with the ownerâs son could make my boss let me off even if he somehow finds out, which I doubt he will, butââ
Sunwooâs 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 youâve ever seen him sport. His eyes light up and glaze your features in the softest of touches, his head shaking in disbelief. âOh, youâre adorable.â
âWhat?â you ask, your heart doing seven somersaults and five cartwheels, eyes a big pool of surprise.
âYou did this for me?â 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 yourselfâ hold it together, Y/N.Â
âI- I mean, I didnât really do anything, we just sneaked inââ
âThis is the sweetest thing youâve ever done for me,â Sunwoo hums, the teasing tone making its comeback in his voice, âactually, this might be the first sweet thing youâve ever done for meââ
âWell, okay,â 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 itâs hard for you to breathe, heat rushing to your cheeks.Â
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 youâve gotten yourself into this mess.
Maybe you shouldnât have gotten this job in the first place.
Ears painfully alert, listening to each sound heard in the small projecting roomâ the shuffling of Sunwooâs 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 Sunwooâs hands suddenly sneak around your middle, your jacket squeaking from the contact of his limbs as he hugs you.
âWhatââ
âDonât fight me, Y/N. Just this once,â he hums, voice deep, but still a bit hesitant. Itâs like heâs walking on unsteady land, cautious of his movements in fear of making you run away. Heâs in a new territory, in your personal spaceâ 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.
Thereâs 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.Â
A flashing thought of just how much you from a few months ago would hate the position itâs in right now passes by your brain, making you instantly feel foolish. Oh how much youâd love it if you stood here unaffected right nowâ thereâs no way to battle the warmth flooding your insides right at this moment, though.
âThis is nice,â he mumbles, voice barely louder than a whisper. âThank you,â he says, your insides squeezing at the sincerity. Itâs not often you get to see this side of Sunwooâ 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 donât 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 youâd 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. âPlease donât run away now,â he says, tone of voice uncertain, telling you that now the ball is in your courtâ your next actions could either make him the happiest man on Earth, or completely break him.Â
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 featuresâ 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. Theyâre 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.Â
He heaves out a shaky breath, your eyes darting back into hisâ as if to ask for approval, see if heâs okay with it. Thereâs a dazy look in them, gaze pressed to your lips, then to your eyes, then your lips againâ 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, thoughâ 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.Â
Sunwoo seems to find liking in the actionâ 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.Â
He pulls back to catch some air, a boyish grin breaking out on his face, forehead knocking against yours in a sweet, giddy manner. âIâve wanted to do this for months,â he huffs.
The sentiment makes a thousand question marks appear in your headâ 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?
âWhyââ
âIâll tell you later,â 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.Â
His fingers tug down on the sides of your jacket, pulling it down. You donât need it anymoreâ with how heated youâve 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.Â
Your scarf is swiftly untangled off your neck, Sunwooâs 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.
âSunwooâŚâ 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 canât 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 youâre sitting comfortably on the hard surface. Itâs not like you didnât 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 donât notice the door swinging open, the figure of your boss like striking like the lightning in the doorway of the screening room.
âSunwoo!â
The boy jumps, his body quickly ungluing itself off yours, as he listens to his father scolding him. âI donât care what you two have going on over here, but youâre on clock! Thereâs a line waiting for the tickets for tomorrowâs movie and someone has to sell them right now.â
The boy clears his throat, voice a little hoarse. âComing,â he says, trying to keep his composure. His hairâs a little tousled, cheeks rosy and lips puffedâ the image that will haunt you in your sweetest nightmares nowâ 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 youâve done on your way home, bones freezing now that they werenât in his presence. You try hard to regret your actions, but you donât find it in you to do soâ itâs kind of hard with the feeling of his lips still playing with yours.
Even though youâd hate to admit it just a few weeks ago, you must do it now.Â
Kim Sunwoo does make a really good kisser.
TONIGHTâS PREMIERE â 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. Thereâs a conflict between the actions of your body and your thoughts â feet on their journey to the train station, but head stuck in the small projection room of your workplace, your coworkerâs kisses occupying your every sober thought.
Itâs not surprising, but you haven't heard from Sunwoo since you left the cinema last night. Not a single text or a callâ but you figure that this is just your dynamic. Sunwooâs never been much of a texter when it came to you. Heâs 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 didnât feel like pondering on the events any longerâ maybe it was just a one-time thing for him and he didnât put much significance to it. You wouldnât knowâ itâs not like youâre suddenly an expert on the way he feels and operates.Â
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 nightâ just like you have done for the past few weeks.Â
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 youâ 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 donât 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.
Itâs the first snow of the season.Â
Kim Sunwoo loves it when it snows.
Speed-walking towards the vintage movie theater at the corner of the townâs 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.
Heâs thereâ 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 figureâ 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.
âSunwoo,â you call, making the boy snap his head towards you in surprise, big eyes meeting yours the moment he recognises your voice.
You donât 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. âItâs snowing outside,â you say, eyes peering out of the window, all thoughts suddenly escaping your brain, words blanking off your tongue, âand, well⌠you said you like the snow, soâŚâ
The boyâs 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. âI- I donât even know what I wanted to say with that, itâs just- I donât know⌠I saw it was snowing and I automatically came here, so-â 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 whatâs happening, youâre outside of the building again, coldness instantly slapping you in the face.
Itâs dark out, but the heaviness of the snow provides enough light in the silent evening for you to see where youâre going under the yellow lampposts on the street. Instantly noticing the lack of Sunwooâs 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 agoâ but thatâs 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 heâs 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 faceâ slowly running down his cheeks like teardrops, redness tinting his nose and the sides of his face.Â
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. âOh god,â 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.Â
âWhy are you putting this on me? Youâre the one thatâs freezing over here!â you scold him, shaking your head at the male.Â
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. âI thought you would regret it,â he says, making you break out into a foolish smile.
âI thought so too,â you nod.
âAnd you donât?â
Shrugging, you reply. âNot really.â
âWhy?â he asks, suddenly doubtful. âYou 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 youâŚâ
Chuckling, you roll your eyes at the sudden revelation. Itâs sickeningly sweet how endearing he looks when he doubts himself, explaining himself to you in a nervous blabber. âI donât hate you. At least not anymore.â
âYou donât?â
âNo,â you shake your head, a tender gaze shared between the two of you, âI actually quite like you, I thinkâŚâ you mumble, a little bashful to admit it out loud.
âYou do?â 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.
âI do,â 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 werenât 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.Â
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, youâre reminded of the cold only when he breaks off you and shudders again, teeth clattering from the freezing temperature.
âLetâs get you inside,â you say, planting a short peck to his lips, âbefore you turn into an icicle,â you giggle, watching as he scrunches up his face.
âI wonât,â he shakes his head, âlove warms me up,â he grins, making you roll your eyes at his bold statement.
âYouâre so cheesy.â
âBut you quite like me anyways, no?â
Sighing, moving away from him and tugging him back inside the cinema, you shake your head at the boy. âIâll think about it on my train home,â 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.Â
âSo I take it as youâre not quitting anymore, then?â 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.
âWeâll see,â you shrug.
âIâll text you the schedule for January?â
âYou better text me about something else too, Kim Sunwoo,â you bark back, opening the door towards the cold landscape, âor youâre gonna have a very uncomfortable return back to work in January!â
The boy laughs, the noise like a Christmas carol to your ears. âNoted.â
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 donât even know if you can make it to the train on time, but you surprisingly have no regretsâ you can always catch the next one, right?
Mentally wanting to slap yourself for the lovesick grin playing with your lips, you sigh.Â
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. Itâs kind of strange, really.Â
One would think that working with movies on the daily would prepare you better for the biggest plot twist of your life.
#dbn: holiday party#deoboyznet#sunwoo#kim sunwoo#the boyz#tbz#sunwoo fluff#sunwoo scenario#sunwoo x reader#kim sunwoo fluff#kim sunwoo x reader#kim sunwoo imagine#sunwoo imagine#the boyz fluff#the boyz x reader#the boyz fic#the boyz scenario#the boyz imagine#tbz x reader#tbz fic#tbz fluff
2K notes
¡
View notes
Note
I just wanted to tell you that I really love reading your writing. Itâs really amazing. Iâm always in awe of how quickly you write for SO MANY DIFFERENT CHARACTERS! AND YOU MAKE THEM ALL SO UNIQUE!!! Itâs so cool, and I really love how you describe things too. I wasnât really a Transformers fan before I found your blog, but you have completely converted me. I think âEverything Is Alrightâ was the first thing I read of yours, and I am just so invested in the Megatron Trojan Horse Pregnancy Arc. Youâre brilliant, I hope that you have a wonderful day, and that youâre always happy, healthy, and loved.
Awww! Thank you so much! đ Iâm just glad you guys like the weird way my brain works
![Tumblr media](https://64.media.tumblr.com/5f9ff2e1598af838240d08c40005d6bf/234c693c72a76632-e1/s540x810/a2d8677c3ea3615163e4a69ccadc53c47a702d54.jpg)
Everything Is Alright Pt 120
IDW Starscream x Reader, Soundwave x Reader, Megatron x Reader
⢠Giving up and laying your head against Starâs hand, the anger is a hollow pit inside you. And youâre not sure you can do this anymore. That you want to do this. Part of you just wants to go home. To pretend this whole mess away like a bad dream. You love Star and Soundwave. Are beginning to like Megatron even if heâs awful sometimes. But youâre just so tired of all of it. âI wish you hadnât come back,â you whisper hating yourself for saying it and Starâs servos flex around you. Wishing that heâd just let you go that night. Hadnât returned to your house and slept outside for you to find him. Youâd have gotten over him, moved on. Eventually.
⢠Spark constricting, Starscream mass shifts and gathers you to him. Doesnât care that heâs vulnerable right now, that his worst enemy is right there, staring at him. Doesnât care about anything beyond fixing this. Because those bitter, hurt words lay him open, wound him deeper than Megatron ever has. âEverything I do has been for you,â he says, catching your chin and tipping it up. Lying like he always does and despising himself for it. âI can, I will, do better.â Even if heâs not entirely sure that he can. Maybe heâs too broken to change at this point, too far gone to trust anyone. Even you, but he canât let you go either. As horrible as he is, you love him. And he wants to be worthy of that. Hoping that heâs not already damaged that love too much to repair.
⢠Hearing your broken âI canât do this anymore,â Soundwave canât stop himself from reaching to press a servo against your spine. From mass shifting and settling at your back so youâre pinned between him and the Seeker. Feeling the warmth of you, the too quick beat of your heart. Knows Starscream is lying to you, trying to coax your forgiveness and he can feel your hurt. How had he not realized how unhappy you really were? Knows heâd been too focused on the Seeker, on protecting secrets and trying to arrange the pieces on the board so youâll be safest, but not really paying enough attention to you. And heâs still horrified at how short your lifespan is. But heâll figure this out. âLittle one,â he croons, rubbing his masked face against you.
⢠Primus, what a mess. Watching both mechs whisper and murmur reassurances to you, he feels like an outsider. Like this is something not meant for him. Even if heâs fully bonded to you and carrying yours and Starscreamâs sparkling, something that still leaves him irrationally furious. And youâre crying again, shoving at Starscream when he bumps his helm against your cheek. Watches you smack him, little fists lashing out as the Seeker just allows it and refuses to let go until you press your face against his neck. Everything so complicated because of you. Their mess spilling over to become his mess, but he canât despise you for taking what heâd offered freely never imagining youâd accept. And thatâs starting to really sink in. That youâre his now. His to protect and care for, that heâs fully bonded, mated. Something heâd never dared even imagine was possible.
⢠Neither of them will let go, both just holding on to you. Refusing to give you space. Holding on as the anger fizzles out into exhaustion. Wanting to hurt them because youâre hurting and itâs their fault. And itâs your fault, too. You know that all too well. Wanting things that you shouldnât have. Not resisting when Starscream just tucks your head under his chin, Soundwaveâs head on your shoulder. Caged by them, feeling their servos on you, clinging too tight. Looking up, you see Megatron just staring at you, his expression utterly blank. Maybe. Maybe you can all just start over? Maybe itâs not all so ruined thereâs no way to fix it.
Previous
Next
#transformers x reader#starscream x reader#megatron x reader#soundwave x reader#starscream#soundwave#megatron
212 notes
¡
View notes
Note
đ lando x fem!reader with the prompt
"Can you preheat the apartment? I'm on my way home. "
- "what are you, banana bread?"
Maybe she's cold like allllll the time, even in the summer (it's me, I'm her)
chilly âš ln4 x reader
hello anon ^_^ thank you for the request! i kinda flipped the dialogue because i thought it flowed better, but lmk what u think :) this is officially my first f1-related writing ive put out into the world, so comments are greatly appreciated!
word count: 475
notes: mostly casual dialogue, not proofread. about a phone call between reader and lando! no use of y/n. i also dont think its explicitly stated reader is fem, so take it how you will!
It was freezing.
Not really, of course. It was June, in London, in one of the worst heat waves ever recorded. But youâd spent all day in the office, which had its aircon on blast to accommodate for the heat. You canât really blame whoever was in charge of that, really. It was over 30 degrees out and any sane person would be boiling.
And yet, here you were, trembling even as you signed off for the day and pulled out your cell phone. It was a ritual, at this point, to call Lando once you were off work. Going through the motions of pulling up his contact and hitting âcallâ didnât even require your attention anymore.
Landoâs voice crackled to life almost immediately when the call connected. âHello, darling. I was wondering when youâd call.â
A soft smile bloomed on your face just at the sound of his voice as you stood from your desk and gathered your things. âHi, Lando,â you reply. His infectious joyful energy seeped into you even through the phone, and a little laugh could be heard as you continued to speak. âItâs been so cold in the office today, but Iâm on my way home now.â
A content hum came from the other line. âFinally. Feels like youâve been gone forever.â An amused exhale escapes you at that. âYou wonât be cold once you step outside, though. Boiling today, innit?â
You groan, the stickiness of the air clogging your lungs as soon as you step outside. âYes, Iâm outside now. Iâm sure youâve got the air on in my apartment. Can you just⌠grab me a blanket that I can wrap up in once Iâm home?âÂ
The question embarrasses you almost immediately after it leaves your lips. Complaining about how hot it is, then asking your boyfriend to grab you a blanket seems silly. It kind of is. âThe aircon is always freezing. I donât care how hot it is outside,â you say, a whiny lilt as you talk over Landoâs squeaking laugh.
âWow. Over 30 degrees out and of course youâre asking me for a blanket,â he starts, though heâs still laughing more than he is talking. âBut yes, darling, I will preheat the couch for you with tea and blankets.â
A real laugh comes from you as you approach the entrance to the tube station. âPreheat? What am I, like, banana bread or something?â
Both of you were laughing now, Landoâs coming out broken as you waited underground for your train. âBanana bread sounds fantastic. Youâve made me hungry, now! Ugh, done me dirty. Jon wonât allow that,â he groans.
Another hum from you as the ticker board says your train is only a minute away. âOkay, okay. My train is here. Iâll be home in ten, my love. See you.â
âRight. See you soon, you loaf.â
let me know if you want to be added to my taglist!
#f1 fanfic#f1 imagine#lando norris#lando x reader#lando norris fanfic#lando norris imagine#lando norris x reader#f1 x reader#f1#formula 1#formula one#ln4#ln4 x reader#request#anon
397 notes
¡
View notes
Text
to every single queer person out thereâtrans, gay, bi, pan, ace, nonbinary, however you identifyâlet me just say this: I am so, so fucking sorry. SO, SO, SO FUCKING SORRY. I am furious. Iâm pissed off beyond words. english seems like a forgotten skill as I'm typing this. I am so sorry.
we never deserved this. we never fucking deserved this.
I am sorry that youâve been betrayed like this, that weâve all been betrayed like this. Iâm sorry that SO MANY of our damn votes werenât counted, like we donât even matter. like weâre just numbers on a page that they can toss out without a thought. like we can just be erased, as if we do not exist, like weâre puzzle pieces that donât fit into their perfect picture, so they just throw us out, discarded, like we were never there in the first place. Iâm sorry she just conceded, just gave up. left us hanging. just handed us over like weâre some afterthought, like weâre collateral damage in this disgusting twisted fucking game. as if our lives, our rights, everything we fought for, meant nothing. she just rolled over and let us get steamrolled, like weâre just noise, just numbers on a page, just nothing worth fighting for. do they even care that real people, people who trusted her, who put their hopes in her, are being crushed by this? and not only in the US. we ALL believed in her. and ... she ... just ... she was gone. just like that. and weâre the ones who have to pay the price. weâre the ones left with our futures on the line, wondering what rights weâll have tomorrow, if weâll even be safe tomorrow. and she just⌠gave it all up. handed us over to people who are hell-bent on erasing us, whoâve been clear from day one about what they think of us, what they want to take away. how do we even make sense of that? how do we believe in ANYONE? how can you abandon us in the lion's den and yet demand compassion and trust? to trust in the very hands that have left us to bleed, to burn, to fight alone?
we deserve better. we deserved someone who would stand with us when it mattered, who wouldnât just throw in the towel and walk away when things got tough. weâre not just collateral. weâre not disposable. weâre human beings with lives, with love, with the right to exist without fear. we aren't statistics, diagrams, names forgotten on a wall. we are queer, and we are real. and she ... just left us to face down a nightmare she knows damn well is coming. so how dare they tell us to âkeep faithâ when theyâve shown us that our lives were never worth the fight to them. we needed someone who would dig in and say, âno, you canât have them. not now, not ever.â and instead? we were left out in the cold to fend for ourselves. like always. like fucking always. and this isnât just some political setback for us. this is our lives, our right to exist. weâve fought and bled and stood through hell just to claim an inch of ground to live openly, to love who we love, and to be who we are. we deserved so much more than empty promises. and we wonât forget this.
right now, it feels like every warning, every fear weâve had has come to life in the worst way. and letâs be realâwhatâs next is terrifying. I will not sugarcoat it. rights are going to be stripped away, our existence denied, our safety threatened. trump hasnât hidden it; heâs promised it. this was supposed to be our home too. but theyâre pushing us out, forcing us to hide. so please, if you need to, go back into the closet. change states if thatâs what it takes. hell, think about leaving the country if you can, because itâs becoming clear that staying might mean risking everything. you do not owe anyone anything, just think of yourself first. you are your own priority.
and god .. Love. Loveâsomething so pure, something so simpleâhas been twisted into a reason for others to hate us, to fear us, to hurt us. we were never supposed to be the ones people saw as a âthreat.â that label should belong to hatred, to racism, to homophobia, to everything that has poisoned this world. but instead, somehow we are the ones they call dangerous. we are the ones they want to erase. and itâs maddening. what kind of world are we living in, where the fight to just exist is an endless battle? was it not love that led Eve to take that fateful bite, trusting in the bond she shared with Adam? and if love is the foundation upon which humanity was built, how can we be faulted for following its lead? of all the things we could hate, and we chose love.
if this moment feels like itâs too much, if it feels like everything youâve fought for, every piece of yourself youâve worked to own, every right, every dream, every bit of safety is collapsing around you -- I get it. I feel it in my bones. it feels like drowning, like being swallowed whole by a storm that never ends. the shore seems so far away. but listen to me: donât you fucking dare let them break you. donât let them get that satisfaction. donât give them that power. we are not here to let monsters erase us. weâre here to outlast every single one of them. weâre here to survive and thrive. we are queer, we are real, we exist, we will continue to exist.
their power, their hatred, their crueltyâit wonât last forever. I know it's difficult to see the light at the end of this tunnel. but they are the ones who donât belong in a world built on compassion, on love, on freedom. You are the real thing. You are here. You deserve to be here, and you deserve to feel safe, loved, and free.
if youâre feeling like thereâs no point anymore, if this all feels like itâs too damn much to take, please just hang on. this fight is brutal, and sometimes it feels like it never ends. but Iâm begging youâdonât give up. donât let them have that final victory. donât let them silence your voice, your light, your life. scream, cry, punch walls, call someone, reach out, hold on to whatever will keep you here another day, another hour. do whatever you have to do to survive this moment. because youâre needed. we need you. the world needs you.
you might not see it now, but you are a part of something big, something powerful, something they wish they could destroy but never will. youâre part of a legacy of resilience, of love, of defiance against hatred. every queer person, every person who has ever had to stand up against a world that told them they shouldnât exist, that they should be crucified, erased, beaten up, has carried that legacy forward, passed it down so we could be here. so you could be here. and they did not survive all they did, did not fight, did not sacrifice so much just for us to lose hope. weâre still here because others fought and held on. now, itâs our turn. we owe it to them, to ourselves, to hold on with everything we have, to fight with everything in us.
and one day, I promise you, I truly pinkie promise you, that youâre going to wake up in a world that has moved beyond these hateful voices. one day, you will wake up in a world that sees you, that values you, where you donât have to fight just to exist. you deserve to live in it, to walk in the sunlight without fear, without shame. they donât get to take that from you. they donât get to erase you. they donât get to win.
this moment is hard. itâs beyond hard. but you, every single one of you, are worth it. you are not alone in this fight. you are surrounded by countless others who feel this too, who know this pain, who are holding on right alongside you.
so please, hold on. you belong, and nothing they do can change that. they cannot snuff out your light. they cannot erase your legacy. they cannot undo the love you were born to spread.
stay. fight like hell. be louder, be prouder, be everything they tell you not to be. because you are worth every ounce of this battle. and we will see the day theyâre gone. we will make it through.
we too shall rise from the ashes.
to my queer family, my phoenix.
#lgbtq#us politics#elections 2024#usa election#presidential election#elections#donald trump#fuck donald trump#lgbtq community
256 notes
¡
View notes