#can i get kim to tell me a secret i need it | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

smileysuh · 10 months ago

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Love, Cupid

🌙 starring. Kim Mingyu x afab!Reader

🔮 preview. “I need…” the cupid’s throat tightens and the words get caught. There are so many things he needs, he just doesn’t know where to start. Mingyu takes a deep breath, smelling your growing scent of arousal. When he looks down, your aura is practically pulsing between your legs, and it draws all his attention. He licks his lips, feeling confident this time when he says, “I need to taste you.”

tw/cw. unprotected sex, oral (f receiving), pussy worship, love drunk Mingyu, fingering, big dick mingyu, pussy stretching, hand-holding during sex, Mingyu is somewhat subby/switchy, mainly missionary to accommodate for his wings, sensitive wings, hand job, mention of birth control, multiple reader orgasms, overstim, etc… I pet names: (his) big guy.

👹 rating.18+ explicit I wc. 13.4k

🍭 aus. mythical/roman/cupid au, soulmate au, etc…

☀️ mlist + an. this man has me in a chokehold

Prologue - the accident

“I’m still not really sure why we needed a new cupid,” Mingyu confesses, toying with the elegantly curved, white bow in his hands. “But I guess if anyone is going to teach you how to do this, it should be me.”

It’s no secret that out of the twelve high council cupids, Mingyu is the one who is most obsessed with love. He lives, breathes and dreams of it. Every second of the immortal man’s life is dedicated to love, and he wouldn’t have it any other way.

Out of all of Venus’s children, Mingyu is the favorite, and he has no worries that training this new cupid will lead to competition in that regard. Chan seems nice enough, but Mingyu can already tell that the kid has a lot to learn when it comes to the duty of being a matchmaker.

“Our arrows are the most powerful weapon on earth,” Mingyu explains, hovering with his new younger brother over the busy city street. They each have large angelic wings that keep them aloft, and extra cupid magic makes it so they’re invisible to the human eye. Mingyu’s favorite place to people-watch is from the sky, it gives him a bird’s eye view, and an easy way to trail his targets without anything getting in the way.

“I thought Jupiter’s lightning bolt was the most powerful weapon on earth,” Chan muses.

“It’s not.”

“Neptune’s trident then.”

Mingyu lets out a deep sigh. “Are you here to learn or not?”

“I just want you to explain it to me. How is your bow and arrow the most powerful weapon?” Chan acts as if he’s just looking for information, but Mingyu gets the sneaking suspicion that the young cupid is toying with him. He seems to be cut from the same cloth as the likes of Jeonghan and Soonyoung, who identify as more mischievous and tricksy than most deities supposedly enamored with love.

“Love is the most powerful thing on Earth,” Mingyu states, “and our tools are the makers of love, for humans anyways. Do you know how many wars were started in the name of love? How many people have died for love? Love is the most important and powerful emotion. Without it, humanity has nothing.”

“I’m still not sure I agree with you on this,” Chan sighs.

“You don’t have to agree with me, because I’m right, and I know I’m right. Now shut up and watch,” Mingyu shushes the younger cupid, pointing at the street below. “Do you see that human?”

Chan flies closer to Mingyu, angling his head toward the elder cupid’s large bicep, looking down his arm to the point of his finger. “The pretty girl?”

“Yes, exactly! Her!”

“Are we going to shoot her?”

“Yes, but we can’t just shoot her randomly- when we shoot her, she’ll fall in love with the first person she sees- the first person she looks at, and we can’t have her falling in love with just anyone on the street. That would be very irresponsible of us. Once shot, a soul connection forms- our arrows can never miss, and they can never be shot nonchalantly.”

“Or what?”

“Or it would be very, very bad, and as I said, irresponsible, and just… not good. Our job is to find a good match for as many humans as possible, and we can do this by looking at their auras. You see how her aura is pink?” God, Mingyu loves looking at your aura. You’ve got one of the prettiest auras he’s ever seen, and Mingyu’s been around for an extremely long time. “Each aura means something different. Pink souls are romantics, they’re soft. Pinks do best with other pinks, other pinks make them the most fulfilled. They can also manage a red, as they’ll draw on each other’s mutual passions. White auras are also suitable for pinks.”

“Yeah, I know about arua colour.,” Chan rolls his eyes. “Blues work best with blues, they can also do well with greens or purples. Greens do best with yellows, greens or blues. Purple does blue or red. I’m not in primary school.”

Mingyu has no clue how old the new cupid is. It’s a very human joke to make- mentioning primary school. Cupids are born, sure, but they age differently than humans, faster. Mingyu supposes that as the newest cupid, maybe Chan is a representation of the times- but if he starts bringing out Gen Z humor and saying things like “this is lit” while shooting his marks, Mingyu might just have a heart attack.

“These days, pink can be a rare aura to find in men,” Mingyu admits. “I’ve considered a few red auras for her- but she’s so soft, I wouldn’t want her to be overwhelmed. Reds are prone to anger, and a pink can soften them out, but a red aura will always be red, and I don’t think I want that for her.”

“Are you always this wrapped up in the matches you make?” Chan asks. “This shit seems easy- I see an orange aura, I match them with an orange, yellow, or red. I see a pink, I match her with a pink, white or red. It’s not that serious.”

“How could it be anything but serious!?” Mingyu groans. “I told you, our arrow is the most dangerous weapon in the world- you can’t just go around shooting people randomly!”

“But you haven’t actually explained what would happen if I did,” the new cupid points out.

“I told you, it’s irresponsible.”

“Yeah, but what does that mean?”

“It means bad things would happen!”

“Bad things like what, though?”

Mingyu loves love. He’s a soft cupid. But for the love of Venus, he’s beginning to want to strangle Chan.

Instead of answering, Mingyu’s gaze finds you again. Chan doesn’t have to take this seriously, Mingyu’s on a mission to find you a soulmate, and he’ll stop at nothing-

“Ouch!” Mingyu flinches, tearing his eyes from you and grabbing at his arm, where an arrow is protruding from his bicep. The cupid’s jaw drops, and he looks to the younger mischief maker.

“Oops?” Chan shrugs.

“Why did you do that!?” Mingyu screams, tearing the arrow out and covering the wound before it begins to drip his golden immortal blood.

“I wanted to see what would happen if I randomly shot a couple without doing research. She’s pink. You’re the pinkest soul I’ve ever even seen- it’s a good match, no?” Chan grins. “Like… what’s the worst that could happen?”

Mingyu can’t even speak. He can’t find the words.

Never, in the history of the world - as far as Mingyu knows it - has one cupid shot another, let alone with the intention of binding their soul to a mortal’s.

But to be completely fair, Mingyu can’t even find it within himself to be mad at Chan. For one, he should have never given the new cupid his own bow and arrow, and maybe more importantly- Chan might have been right in binding the two of you. Because holy shit, you’ve got the prettiest soul Mingyu’s ever seen, and he’s been hesitant to match you up with someone, worried they’d be unworthy-

What’s a better fit for your pretty pink aura than his own vibrant magenta self?

One - the cupid council

“And then…” Mingyu looks around at the council of Cupids, taking a deep breath as he gets to the climax of the report, “Chan shot me.”

“He shot you?” Seungcheol grins, adjusting in his golden throne as he looks at the two immortals in the center of the room.

“With an arrow,” Mingyu clarifies. “Yeah.”

The eldest cupid stifles laughter, lifting a hand to half cover his mouth as he giggles and looks around at the others. Jeonghan meets the eldest’s gaze, also grinning. There are mixed reactions from others, and it’s Soonyoung of all people who stands up as if this whole thing is blasphemy, declaring, “Take the kid’s arrows away!”

“Why did this kid even get made,” Jihoon groans, rubbing his temples in annoyance.

“Hey!” Chan declares, offended at the notion of him being a useless creation from their godly mother.

“Seungkwan,” Seungcheol waves a hand, “take his arrows away.”

“Wait, no, I earned these!” Chan holds his bow and quiver close to his chest, hiding behind Mingyu when one of the other cupids gets closer to relieve him of his weapons.

“You shot an elder cupid,” Seungcheol says dismissively. “How does that count as earning your bow and arrow, or for that matter, your wings.” The eldest eyes the small white protrusions that flutter behind Chan, who shudders at the idea of them being taken away along with his cupid tools.

“Okay, everyone relax,” Jeonghan sighs, standing from his throne to address the room. “This isn’t Chan’s fault. I’d heard Mingyu was having trouble with a mark, being indecisive- and I wasn’t the only one who heard about it. This instruction came from Mother herself. Chan was just following orders. He has earned his bow and arrow, as well as his wings.”

“This order came from Mother?” Seungcheol sits up in his chair, jaw-dropping.

Venus is generally very hands-off with her sons. The idea that she’d heard about Mingyu’s predicament, and stepped in with an idea like this- well, it’s completely abnormal, and it’s clear that everyone on the cupid council is shocked by the revelation.

“She said something along the lines of… ‘Mingyu loves love, and it’s time he experiences it for himself.’” Jeonghan waves a hand nonchalantly, as if this is an everyday occurrence.

“What were you doing with Mother?” Wonwoo asks, and it’s clear in his tone that he’s not entirely trusting of the elder, more mischievous cupid.

“She has favorites, you know,” Jeonghan grins. “To Mingyu, she gifted love, to me, she gifted the role of messenger.”

“That’s some gift,” Seungcheol scoffs, but Mingyu gets the sense that Seungcheol wishes he’d been the one chosen to be privy to this information. “So Mother wants Mingyu to do what? Seduce a human?”

“Like it will be hard?” Jeonghan lets out a barking laugh. “This is our Mingyu we’re talking about. If anyone can seduce a human, it’s him.”

Two - the first meet

“Ok, but what if you shoot her too?” Mingyu suggests as he and Chan follow you from a distance, flying through the clear evening sky while you head home from work.

“Why don’t you shoot her?” Chan retorts.

“Jeeze,” Mingyu rolls his eyes at the newness of his sidekick. “You shot me, so I’m bonded to her now, which means only you can make her second connection. It’s a rule to make sure cupids don’t get in each other’s way. You shot me to fall for her, and if I shot her to fall for anyone else, that would lead to unrequited love, which isn’t fun for anyone.”

“A rule? What would happen if you tried to shoot her though? I mean, unless you and all the other cupids constantly communicate about your marks, there’s no way to know which human belongs to which cupid, is there?”

“What’s with you and breaking rules?” Mingyu sighs, rubbing at his temples. “Listen, I’m not testing fate again… also, most cities are split into small zones. Cupids stick to their zones.”

“Humans don’t though,” Chan points out.

“I’m not talking about this with you anymore.”

“Okay, suit yourself.”

“So will you shoot her for me?”

“Mmmm,” Chan makes a face. “I don’t think so.”

“What?!” Mingyu stops flying, staring at the cupid that he’s supposed to be training. “But… but I’m your teacher, and I’m telling you to shoot her for me!”

“That would be too easy though, right?” Chan flashes a grin. “Plus- that would be an abuse of power, Mingyu. You’re in love with her now, so telling me to force her to fall for you isn’t very fair, now is it?”

“I-” Mingyu bites at his tongue. He hadn’t thought of it that way. “Well… we know I’m best for her. It wouldn’t be an abuse because we know I’ll treat her right.”

“The thing is…” Chan lets out a yawn, “I’m still not convinced.”

“So you expect me to just go and talk to her?”

“Yeah?” The younger cupid shrugs. “You’re supposed to be some sex god, aren’t you?”

“No one’s ever called me that…” Mingyu can feel his skin heating at the notion. “I’m a love cupid, not a sex god.”

“Same thing,” Chan scoffs. “Just go talk to her. Come on, follow me.” He takes a nose dive, approaching the ground at a speed that makes Mingyu worry for his safety- only for Chan to land like a pro, waving at him to hurry up.

With a groan, Mingyu follows the younger cupid, his feet touching down onto the pavement of the crowded street.

“You can’t go talk to her looking like this,” Chan explains, looking Mingyu up and down.

As immortal beings, they’re impervious to the temperatures of the evening. Dressed in a cream-coloured toga, Mingyu stands out amongst the jackets and hats worn to protect human skin from the cold. “Give me a sec,” Mingyu sighs, using some cupid magic to transform his outward appearance, conjuring an outfit he thinks might draw you in. “How’s this?”

“A suit? Seriously?” Chan rolls his eyes.

“Suits are in!” Mingyu insists.

“Yeah, if you want to look like a sugar daddy.”

“Maybe she wants a sugar daddy?” Mingyu suggests.

“Aren’t you supposed to be some human expert? She’s a pink soul, Mingyu, how many pink souls really value money over personality?”

“So you know more about humans than I do now?” Mingyu can’t believe what he’s hearing out of his ward’s mouth.

“I think love is blinding you, dude,” Chan says, reaching out to touch Mingyu’s expensive silk tie. “You’re pretending to be someone you’re not.”

“I’m rich,” Mingyu insists.

“Sure, but you’re not a sugar daddy, you’re a cupid.”

Mingyu scoffs. “So what would you want me to wear?”

“Blue jeans, maybe a hoodie, something that screams ‘make me your boyfriend.’”

Mingyu has to concede that Chan might be onto something, but he refuses to admit it out loud. In fact, Mingyu buries deeper into his conviction that you’ll like the suit. “This outfit is staying,” he states.

“Fine,” Chan shrugs. “Suit yourself.”

With one final grin and giggle at his own double entendre, Chan pushes Mingyu roughly, causing him to fall back and bump directly into you. The rough contact jolts Mingyu into a corporeal form, putting him fully into your visibility as you steady yourself and blink up at him.

“Oh, uh… excuse me?” You’re a little stunned- but Mingyu supposes that's what happens when a man appears out of thin air.

“No, that was my fault,” Mingyu assures you quickly. “I uh… two left feet.”

“Right…” You look down, then back up at Mingyu, giving him a soft smile before stepping past him to continue on with your night.

Mingyu watches you in shock, then he pulls himself out of it, rushing to follow you. “I uh- I should make it up to you!”

“Don’t worry about it,” you wave a hand.

“But I do worry about it,” Mingyu insists, putting himself in front of you this time. “Here,” he conjures a flower from behind his back, holding it out to you, “Something to say sorry.”

You stop, staring up at him and then down at the rose. “You just happen to have that?” you ask quizically. “Were you trying to bump into me or something?”

“No, I just had the flower.” Mingyu would be sweating if he was a being who could sweat.

“Sure you did,” you laugh. “Look, I’m sure whatever girl you actually had that flower for would like it more than me.”

“I swear, it’s for you- look, forget the flower,” Mingyu tosses it onto the ground. “There must be some way I can make this up to you.”

“Dude, you bumped into me on the street, we’re good.”

Mingyu doesn’t know what else to say, so he simply says, “Please?”

You let out a sigh. “If I give you my number, will you let this go?”

“Uh huh.”

“Do you have a pen?”

Mingyu conjures one in his pocket, pulling it out to give it to you. When you take the pen, you grab his wrist, pulling his palm close so you can scrawl across it.

The cupid watches your every action, etching it into his memory. You’re so lovely, your pretty pink aura wrapped around you like a warm halo. When he takes in a deep breath, he can smell the touch of roses in the air, a lover-girl scent-

“There,” you sigh, releasing his hand. “Now I really have somewhere to be.”

“Okay,” Mingyu murmurs, holding his palm close. “Have a good night.”

“You too, big guy,” you say, laughing to yourself as you brush past him.

It takes a moment for Mingyu to realize he never got your name and vice versa. He’s tempted to rush after you, only for a hand to clap down on his shoulder.

“Dude,” Chan grins, “that was embarrassing to watch. You have like, zero rizz.”

Three - the date

Mingyu is doing his best. He’d texted you a safe amount to plan your date. He’d picked you up in an expensive car, held doors open for you, and now, you’re eating at one of the most expensive restaurants in the city.

Even so, Mingyu can tell that something is off with you. As you pick at the appetizer, Mingyu finally gets the courage to ask what’s wrong.

“You want the honest truth?” you laugh, leaning back in your chair.

“Always.” Mingyu puts down his fork and knife, focusing on you completely.

“I’m thankful for the date,” you start. “Taking me somewhere nice is really sweet of you and everything, it’s just… I don’t know. I think lots of men these days think all girls want is money. As nice as this is- as nice as your car is, and this restaurant, I don’t think I’m the kind of girl that fits with this vibe.”

“You’re not?”

You shake your head. “You’re clearly a guy that’s well off, and I’m happy for you about that, but… I feel like when guys take me to nice places, they always expect something in return. There’s this expectation that when money gets put down, the girl has to put out too, just… in other ways.”

“Other ways? Like what?”

You scoff, giving him a look. “You know what other ways.”

Except Mingyu doesn’t know, because he’s never actually been on a date, especially not with a human. He has no idea what sort of expectations are normal, especially in your mundane world. As a cupid, he sets up the matches, but he doesn’t really follow along with the journey and see what his marks get up to after being shot with his arrow.

“Can I be honest too?” Mingyu asks after a moment of contemplation.

“Of course.”

“I uh…” He picks his words carefully. “I don’t really date often. So… whatever expectations you think I might have, just know that I don’t have any. I just want to get to know you. That’s it. I promise.”

You stare at him, and Mingyu gets lost in your eyes. He’s more than happy to wait patiently while you think of a response, it gives him time to appreciate your beautiful form-

“You’re serious?” you ask finally.

“Uh huh,” Mingyu nods. “You seem surprised.”

“I just... You’re all handsome and dressed well, and you have a nice car, and you’ve obviously got money- I just sort of assumed you were a sugar daddy or something. Someone used to taking girls out.”

Mingyu hates the use of the term ‘sugar daddy.’ It’s clear to him that Chan was right about the vibes of his clothing choices, and the cupid will admit that the car he conjured was maybe a tad too fancy. He’s been going about this all wrong, putting up a facade, creating a version of himself that he thought you would like.

Maybe Mingyu truly doesn’t know anything about you. He just hopes this misstep isn't enough to drive you away.

“I’ve been single a long time,” Mingyu admits. “I guess, maybe I got wrapped up in doing the things I thought you would like. I figured most girls like to be wined and dined, but I never really asked you what you wanted to do. I’m sorry.”

“It’s okay.”

“Can we start over?” Mingyu suggests.

You smile softly, nodding.

Mingyu thinks about it for a moment before he comes up with a question that he thinks could redirect this whole situation for the better. “If I could go back, and let you choose what type of date this would be, what would we have ended up doing?”

“I find that first dates where we can walk around and see stuff together are kind of nice,” you admit. “Formal things like this, face to face, over food- they kind of make me anxious. And lulls in the conversation are more obvious.”

You’re very right about that. Every long moment of silence has made Mingyu’s heart race, and he’s rushed to fill it with surface-level questions that never seemed to hit their mark. It’s interesting that he’s learning about dating from you.

Mingyu has never realized how little he actually knows about the rituals of love.

“How do you feel about me covering the bill for our drinks and appetizer, then we can get out of here?” Mingyu suggests.

“You don’t want dinner?”

“If you want food, I’ll get you food,” he tells you, “but it sounds like you’d rather be on a walk, so let's go for a walk.”

You offer him another soft smile, and Mingyu can see the way your pink aura flutters with interest. It’s the first time you’ve really glowed for him tonight, so he knows he’s headed in the right direction with this line of thought.

“A walk would be perfect.”

Half an hour later, the two of you are walking side by side through one of the small city parks.

You were right about the awkward pauses disappearing. Conversation is flowing steadily, and Mingyu couldn’t be happier. You tell him about your job, your friends, the things you do that make you happy, hobbies that have stuck with you since you were younger.

Mingyu is practically overflowing with questions now, and every response you give him is committed to memory.

“It’s such a nice night,” you say wistfully, pausing to look up at the sky, which is visible through a clearing in the tree canopy.

“It is,” Mingyu agrees, taking a deep breath and simply enjoying the moment.

That’s when a familiar cupid flies across his view, and Mingyu’s heart lurches in his chest.

“Should we sit down somewhere?” Mingyu asks, looking at a bench a short distance away. It’s next to a large Oak, and Mingyu hopes that the leaf foliage can give him some privacy with you, away from any curious eyes.

You nod, gently grabbing onto his arm as you begin to walk.

Mingyu’s breath catches at the contact, a jolt of energy running through his entire form. He can feel his heart lurching again, but this is a much more pleasant feeling than before. His throat is dry, and he swallows thickly to clear it, skin heating into something like a blush.

He’s happy you’re not seated across from each other in some stuffy restaurant. With the low light of street lamps that line the walkway, there’s no way you’ll be able to see the flush of his skin. As much as Mingyu is a love cupid, he doesn’t want it to be too obvious that he’s enraptured with you.

He’s terrified that anything he does could scare you off, and he’d hate himself if that ever happened.

“Anyways,” you sigh as the two of you sit down, “enough about me, what about you?”

“Hmm?” Mingyu shuffles, turning to look at you only to find that you’ve angled your body toward him, your gaze fixed on his profile.

“What do you do for work?”

“Uh…” Mingyu doesn’t want to lie to you, but he can’t tell you the full truth either. “I’m a matchmaker, actually.”

“A matchmaker?” you repeat, surprise evident in the tone of your voice.

“Yeah. I set people up.”

“I didn’t know that was an actual job.”

“There’s lots of Korean Ajummas who want to set up their daughters or relatives with good men,” Mingyu explains, opting for a white lie.

“I see,” you nod. “A matchmaker who doesn’t date.”

“Yeah…” Mingyu clears his throat again. “Would you believe me if I said I’m pretty good at my job?”

“Maybe,” you grin. “What makes you good at your job? If not experience in the dating arena.”

“I think I’ve just always been someone who reads people. Matching is in my blood- although, after my mess up on reading you, I’m starting to wonder how successful I’ve actually been.”

“You didn’t mess up that badly,” you assure him. “And when given the opportunity to correct your misread, you did. I’m having a really good time with you now that we’re on a walk.”

“You are?” Mingyu feels like jumping up and celebrating, but he holds himself down to earth. “I’m uh, I’m having a really good time with you too.”

Instead of responding, you simply lean your head onto his shoulder, letting out a deep sigh of contentment.

The cupid holds very still, not wanting to move a muscle in the fear that you’ll pull away.

“Do you have any family?” you ask.

“A few brothers,” Mingyu responds.

“Are you close?”

Mingyu laughs. “With some.”

“Family can be an interesting experience,” you muse.

“I couldn’t agree more,” Mingyu admits, looking out at the dark field in front of you, where Chan does another fly-by.

“I hate to say this, but I have an early morning work thing,” you sigh. “I should probably be getting home.”

“Wanna go back to my car at the restaurant? I can drive you.”

“My place actually isn’t that far from here, I was thinking I might just walk… but then again,” you let out a laugh, “these heels are kind of killing my feet.”

“What if I carry you home?”

You pull away from his shoulder, giving him a doubtful look.

“You don’t think I can carry you?” Mingyu asks in shock.

“It’s not that-”

“Come on,” Mingyu gets to his feet. “Get on my back, it will be fun, I promise.”

You give him another unsure look, but finally you stand too. Mingyu turns around, bending so you can jump onto his back. The moment you’re pressed against him, he feels like he’s in heaven. He can feel your breath along the back of his neck, and it sets every inch of him on fire.

“Hold on,” he tells you, enjoying the way you wrap your grip tighter around his broad shoulders, locking your fingers together by his chest.

“I can’t believe we’re doing this,” you admit with a shaky laugh.

“You trusted me,” Mingyu says, “and I’m not going to let you down… until we get to your apartment.”

You giggle again, and the sound is music to his ears.

“You’re crazy,” you tell him, and yet, your aura is buzzing so bright it nearly envelopes Mingyu with how tightly you’re pressed together.

“Something tells me you don’t mind.”

Four - the fuck up

“You know what you said about zones the other day?” Chan asks while he and Mingyu sit on the ledge of a tall building, looking down at the humans below.

“Yeah?”

“You said that cupids stick to their zones, right?”

“Yup.” Mingyu’s so annoyed by Chan he could scream. They’re supposed to be looking at auras, looking for a target for the day, but Chan’s head is off in the clouds-

“Okay, I just wanted to be sure.”

Mingyu lets out a deep breath, turning to look at Chan. “What was the point of those questions?”

“Just that… well, that’s Seokmin, isn’t it?” Chan points, and Mingyu follows his line of sight. Low and behold, Seokmin is flying two city blocks away, and it looks like he’s trailing something.

“We’re on the zone border,” Mingyu explains, but as he gets a bearing for the auras below, one stands out to him. “Shit.”

“I didn’t know you could cuss, grandpa,” Chan laughs, but Mingyu’s already pushing off from the ledge, his large wings unfurrowing so they can beat at the air, carrying him quickly toward the other cupid, leaving Chan in his dust. “Wait! Slow down!”

But Mingyu can’t slow down, because if he’s correct, it looks like Seokmin is trailing a very familiar pink aura that weaves amongst the muted people below.

Mingyu’s wings are large. They’re the largest of any of the cupids, and yet, as Seokmin draws his arrow, it’s clear that Mingyu’s superior size and speed won’t help him make it to his brother in time.

“Seokmin!” he yells, catching the man’s attention just as he lets his arrow fly.

Mingyu comes to a halt in the air, breath caught as he watches the arrow. It feels like everything is in slow motion, the arrow speeding through the sky toward you-

But then, it’s as if the arrow hits your aura and the pink hue acts as some sort of protective shield. The arrow falls to the ground, bursting into flower petals that melt away into the sidewalk.

“What the fuck?” Chan has caught up to Mingyu, and his words ring true to the situation. “Did Seokmin’s arrow just miss?”

“My arrows never miss!” Seokmin insists, fluttering over.

“But that one did,” Chan points out.

Seokmin’s eyes are wide with shock. “It didn’t! It was going to hit her!”

Chan rolls his eyes. “But it didn’t hit her!”

Mingyu can’t even speak. His gaze is fixed on you. The arrow missed, but you’ve come to a stop in your tracks, as if you could sense the close call you’d just somehow evaded.

“What are you two doing here anyways?” Seokmin glares. “You distracted me.”

“That’s Mingyu’s girl,” Chan responds nonchalantly.

“Who is?”

“The chick you just tried to shoot!”

Mingyu respects that Chan is getting so worked up about this, it’s kind of like the new cupid is trying to protect Mingyu and his love life endeavors.

“Wait, that’s the girl Mingyu likes?!” Seokmin bellows.

“That’s the girl he loves!” Chan insists.

“Can you both just- be quiet for a minute!?” Mingyu can’t deal with their arguing anymore, not when you’re so much more interesting.

He watches you pull out your phone-

“Do arrows even work on her?” Chan asks. “We all saw that right? It like… bounced off her aura?”

“They should work on everyone,” Seokmin responds quietly. “I mean, your arrow worked on Mingyu, for Venus’s sake.”

Mingyu’s phone rings in his pocket, the pocket he’d had conjured into his toga just to hold a line of communication with you. The other cupids turn to watch Mingyu as he lifts the human device to his ear. “Hello?”

“Hey you.” Your voice is a little off. “You busy?”

“No,” Mingyu blurts out dumbly.

“Okay, good. Uh… I wasn’t sure if I should call or text-”

“Calling is good,” he assures you.

“That’s good to know.” You let out a small laugh, tucking in closer to the building and away from the busy street traffic. “It’s the weirdest thing, but you just popped into my mind. I guess, usually I let guys ask me out for a second date, and it’s only been two days since I saw you last, but I sort of just thought fuck it, I’d call you.”

Mingyu doesn’t even know how to respond. His mind is running a million miles a minute.

“Mingyu?” you ask. “Are you still there?”

“Sorry, yeah.”

“So… do you want to see each other again?”

“Absolutely.”

“Good!”

Even from a distance, Mingyu can see the way you light up, the way your aura twinkles with pretty pinks and magentas. “When… when are you free?” he asks, dazzled dumb by your beauty.

“This sounds crazy, and I get it if you’re busy, but… are you around?”

“Yeah?”

“Could we meet in an hour?”

“Yeah, I’ll uh…” Mingyu has to physically give his head a shake to speak coherently, “I’ll come pick you up.”

“Can’t wait,” you smile. “Bye, Gyu.”

“Bye.”

You hang up, but Mingyu still feels frozen. It takes a moment before he’s able to pocket his phone.

“Dude, you’re still so lame when you speak to her,” Chan muses, nudging his mentor with a grin.

“We just watched her somehow block a cupid’s arrow,” Mingyu snaps, “excuse me for needing a minute.”

“Mingyu?” This time it’s Seokmin speaking, and Mingyu hates the way he immediately flashes a glare at his brother. “Sorry, it’s just… what’s that on your wrist?”

Five - the red string

Mingyu can’t seem to take his eyes off the red string around his wrist. He picks at the fine threads as he waits in his car for you to come down from your apartment. In fact, he’s so focused on the mysterious new bracelet that he forgets to get out of the vehicle to open your door for you.

When you open your own door it causes him to jump, heart lurching in fright- then he remembers where he is, and he’s quick to pull the sleeve of his sweater down, hiding the red string. “Hi,” he says, forcing a smile.

“You okay? I didn’t scare you, did I?” you grin, getting into the car.

“Sorry, I was just lost in thought. Where, uh… where do you wanna go today?”

“Well, I was going to let you choose, but I didn’t want to end up in a fancy restaurant again, so I was thinking something simple like coffee?”

“Coffee sounds nice,” Mingyu admits. “Any specific place you like?”

“There’s a cafe by the park we were at last time, I’ll give you directions.” You reach over, gently squeezing his thigh. “It’s good to see you.”

“It’s good to see you too,” he smiles, and this time, it’s not forced at all.

You make it to the cafe. After you order, Mingyu pays, and soon, the two of you are sitting in a cute little secluded booth in the corner. As you tell him about your day, Mingyu watches you take your jacket off. He admires your choice of clothes, the way the colours compliment your skin tone and the pretty pink aura you can’t even see.

When you settle and reach for your tea, Mingyu notices something around your wrist, and he nearly chokes on his coffee.

“You good?” you laugh, reaching out to touch his hand.

“Yeah.” Mingyu steadies himself. “Uh- what’s that red thread bracelet? I didn’t notice that on our last date.”

“Oh, this?” you look down at your wrist, lifting it a little. “It’s a long story.”

“I’ve got time.”

“You’re going to think I’m crazy.”

“Trust me,” the cupid laughs, “nothing you say could ever make me think you’re crazy.”

You give him an assessing look, but finally give in with a sigh. “Okay, so basically, one of my close friends is a witch.”

“A witch?”

“Still think I’m not crazy?”

“You’re not crazy, but I haven’t met this friend yet,” Mingyu teases.

“Anyways,” you take a deep breath, “she prays to Venus, and she swears on her life that Venus helped her meet her fiance. We had a bachelorette party about a week ago and she got all us bridesmaids these ‘Red Strings of Fate.’ It’s supposed to help us meet our own soulmates, or so she says.”

“Huh,” Mingyu sits back, resting his hands on the table. “I’ve never heard about ‘Red Strings of Fate.’”

“Really? But… I mean,” your gaze dips down, “you’re wearing one too?”

Mingyu’s heart lurches, and he looks at his wrist, where the mysterious red string had appeared an hour ago. “Right…”

“Did you not know about that when you bought it? Or…?” You cock your head to the side, letting out a small laugh. “Honestly, when I saw you playing with that in the car when you picked me up, I’d kind of thought you’d gotten it to match mine.”

“I seriously didn’t even notice you had yours when we were on our last date,” Mingyu admits.

“Hmm…” Mingyu can see a glimmer of something behind your eyes, and then you grin broadly. “I guess maybe it’s just fate, huh?”

“Maybe,” Mingyu laughs.

“Where did you even gets yours?”

“It just kind of appeared,” Mingyu says honestly, only realizing what he’s said as the words leave his mouth.

“It just kind of appeared,” you repeat, looking very skeptical. Even so, you don’t question it, you simply lean back, your aura shimmering. “Guess it really is fate.”

Mingyu can’t even come up with anything else to say, so he takes a sip of his coffee.

“Listen…” you drum your fingers gently against the table, “I’ve been meaning to find a date for Luna’s wedding, but it can be hard to just run into someone you want to take to something like that. Then we quite literally ran into each other on the street, and now this whole string thing… if it’s not to soon, or too last minute, if you’d want to come to the wedding next week with me, I’d really appreciate the plus one.”

“Seriously?” Mingyu can’t believe his luck, can’t believe the cute determined set of your lips when you nod in the affirmative. “I’d love to go to this witch wedding with you.”

“As long as you don’t call her a witch to her face,” you laugh. “I think she prefers the term wicca.”

Mingyu makes a cross over his heart. “I won’t do anything to mess it up, I promise.”

Six - the consensus

The council is silent after Seokmin and Mingyu’s testaments on the oddities related to you. The younger cupids look to the elders to come up with a consensus, and Seungcheol is the first to finally speak.

“An arrow that didn’t strike, a red string, and a girl who thinks she’s a witch.” He lets out a deep sigh, pinching the bridge of his nose. “You’ve gotten yourself into quite the mess, Mingyu.”

Mingyu stays quiet, looking at his feet as he stands in the center of the council room, Seokmin and Chan on either side of him.

For a new cupid who stands up to his mentor all the time, Chan is being oddly quiet today. He hasn’t said a word, not even when Seokmin and Mingyu were recounting the story of how your aura had seemingly repelled an arrow. Chan’s nervousness is making Mingyu even more anxious, although he’s not sure what he has to be anxious about.

“While I’m certain we all appreciate the report,” Jeonghan says, “this union between Mingyu and his human is ordained by Mother. There’s no use discussing this further.”

“She avoided an arrow. Aren’t you the least bit curious about how a mortal did that?” Wonwoo asks, leaning forward in his chair. It’s not usual for Wonwoo to speak, and the fact that he’s found this story of interest makes Mingyu’s skin tingle with more worry.

Jeonghan makes a face, shaking his head. “No.”

“I’m more focused on this witch,” Jihoon admits, trailing his fingers along his jaw. “Magic isn’t anything new, but I wonder if this friend’s ‘connection to Venus’ is what made our mother step in.”

“I’ve never heard of a ‘red string of fate,’” Soonyoung adds. “This all seems very suspicious. Chan, what do you think?”

Chan fidgets next to Mingyu. “Uh… me?”

“No, the other cupid named Chan.” Soonyoung rolls his eyes. “Yes, you!”

“What do I think about what?” Chan asks dumbly.

Seungcheol sighs, Jeonghan snickers, and other cupids simply seem amused by the new cupid.

“What do you think about all of this?” Soonyoung clarifies. “New age Venus witches and strings of fate?”

“I think…” Chan swallows, looking over at Mingyu. When he speaks again, Chan’s voice has gained confidence, and he squares his shoulders. “I think that this whole thing started when Jeonghan gave me mother’s directions to pair Mingyu up with the girl he’d been trying to match for a while. But even if I hadn’t been directed to do it, when I look at Mingyu and the human, their auras just match. I’ve never seen an aura like hers. The only aura close to it in colour is Mingyu’s. I don’t know anything about red strings of fate or witches, but I do know that nothing bad could come out of a match like this one. Or at least, that’s what my heart is telling me.”

The council is silent while they process the new cupid’s words. Mingyu can feel a warmth spreading through his chest. For a dude who’s been nothing but an annoyance and hindrance so far, Chan is growing on Mingyu.

“Chan’s right,” Seokmin says. “Her aura is just like Mingyu’s. If anyone deserves a chance to fall in love, it’s them.”

“When did you all become so sentimental,” Jihoon groans, but there’s something of a smirk under his unamused expression.

“Seokmin,” Seungcheol’s voice draws all eyes, “since you dragged yourself into this, I want you to go with Chan and Mingyu to the wedding. I trust your opinion more than Chan’s. And Mingyu, see what information you can get from the witch. Even if this is all orchestrated by mother, I want to know the ins and outs of what power this wicca believes she has.”

Seven - the witch’s wedding

Mingyu hadn’t realized that being a plus one to someone in the wedding party meant that he’d be sitting alone in the venue while waiting for the bride to walk down the aisle. He doesn’t know anyone here except for Chan and Seokmin, who are floating around eying up the singletons. Mingyu had made them promise not to shoot too many people today, but there’s already been two meet-cutes and successful matches.

The love cupid is somewhat jealous of his brothers’ ability to work, their ability to form attachments while he’s made to sit and wait. To clear his mind, he fidgets with the red string on his wrist, hidden under his suit.

The red string has become somewhat of a soothing mechanism for the cupid. It feels tangible, in an odd sort of way. He enjoys the feeling as he gently drags it across his skin, looping it over and over again-

Music begins to play through the speakers, guests turn in their seats. A young flower girl walks up the aisle, the petals she’s tossing match the soft pink dress she’s wearing, and the tie around Mingyu’s neck. You’d shown up with the fabric when he’d come to pick you up, bashfully asking him if he wanted to match with you and the bridal party.

It was a small exchange, but it had meant the world to Mingyu. He loves the fact that he’s matching with you and your friends, loves the fact that the bride had chosen soft pink as one of the color themes.

After the flower girl, the bridesmaids begin to file in, arm in arm with groomsmen. Mingyu studies the auras, noting that many of the people in the party have pink tones to match their outfits. He likes seeing so many pinks in one area, it’s no wonder you talk so highly of your friends, you’re all pieces torn from the same cloth. Like him.

You step into view, and Mingyu can feel his heart beginning to race. You look stunning today, even more so than usual. The joy you feel radiates off of you, illuminating your aura with shimmery glitter.

When you walk by, you meet Mingyu’s gaze, and he feels his grin widening. All the waiting has been worth it if even for that one smile, the brief eye contact-

Venus, he loves you.

Everyone stands when the bride enters. She’s dressed in a white laced gown, with flowers in her hair, and pretty rose quartz jewelry. There’s definitely something different about her, a richness and vibrancy to her aura that screams power.

To Mingyu’s surprise, the bride meets his eyes as she walks past, offering a small tilt to her head before she continues up the aisle.

Mingyu thinks about the small motion from the bride throughout the ceremony.

He hasn’t met a real witch since the dark ages. People with a true connection to the gods are few and far in between these days. Mingyu wonders what kind of power your friend holds, and what it means in regard to him and the other cupids floating around.

Even with all these wonderings, Mingyu focuses on the example of love set before him. He listens to the vows, and the grandma next to him offers him tissues to wipe away his tears. The first kiss as man and wife makes Mingyu want to cheer with joy, his heart practically exploding in his chest.

He loves love.

When the bride and groom exit, you stand by the podium, explaining that the reception will take place in a venue two doors down from the ceremony hall. Mingyu watches you hurry out after the bride before he slowly dispurses with the rest of the guests, the kind grandma who had given him tissues latched to his arm for support.

He’s unsure of himself when he reaches the reception. There’s an entryway station that details table arrangements. “What’s your name dear?” the grandma next to him asks, adjusting some glasses on the tip of her nose.

“I don’t think I’m on the list,” Mingyu admits, scanning the seating cards.

He tells the old woman your name and she gives him an amused look. “A plus one to the bridal party,” she nods. “Table one.”

“And where are you seated?” the cupid asks. “I’ll help you there.”

After doing his duty with the old woman, Mingyu finds himself at a table full of pink-souled love birds. They’re all gushing about the ceremony, and are more than happy to welcome the cupid into the discussion. Mingyu’s never felt so immediately at ease, and you find him this way, laughing with his new group of love-obsessed peers.

“Hi,” you whisper, slipping into the seat next to him.

“Hey,” he smiles, about to turn and look at you- only for your lips to press to his cheek. Mingyu’s heart lurches in his chest, his body freezing for a moment before he’s able to look into your eyes. “What was that for?”

“I’m just happy you came,” you admit.

“I wouldn’t have missed this for the world,” Mingyu retorts, and he really does mean it.

Being with you is so easy. He’d fallen for your pink vibration, and now he’s falling for the auras that your friends exude too.

Before Mingyu even knows it, your table is being called up for food. He sticks to your side like glue as you fill your plates, and when you begin to head back to sit down, the bride waves you over. Mingyu sticks to you even as you approach your friend, who stands from the newly wed table with a grin.

“So this must be the famous Mingyu I’ve heard so much about.” The witch grins. “I’m Luna.”

She holds out a hand, and Mingyu doesn’t even hesitate to take it. There’s an immediate jolt of energy that runs through him when their skin touch, and he swallows the lump in his throat. Luna meets his gaze with a steady smile.

“Y/N, would you be so kind as to get me a glass of wine from the open bar?” Luna asks.

“Yeah, I’ll be right back.” You squeeze Mingyu’s arm before darting away.

The cupid opens his mouth to say something, only for Luna to cut him off. “I can see your wings.”

“What?” Mingyu nearly chokes on air.

“And your friends flying around,” Luna’s gaze lifts, trailing Chan as he soars over the dance floor. “Three cupids, and yet you’re the only one with a vibrant pink aura. It’s the pretties I’ve ever seen, aside from Y/N’s, of course.”

“You really can see us,” Mingyu breathes. “My brothers, my wings, my aura-”

“I bet you thought I wasn’t a real witch, didn’t you, big guy?” Luna laughs.

“I mean…” Mingyu can’t even meet her eyes now, especially since she’s just used your petname for him. “Yeah. I didn’t think you were real.”

“Most people don’t think you’re real,” the witch retorts. “Cupids? In twenty twenty four? It’s kind of shocking, not to mention outdated.”

“We’re not outdated,” Mingyu goes to defend himself, but the look Luna shoots him makes his voice catch in his throat.

“My first fiance was a bad match,” Luna says, capturing Mingyu’s full attention with the power of her tone. “Some white haired cupid shot me. I guess he figured I had a pink soul and this man had a red one so we’d even out. But we never did. It was bad. So bad that I started praying to Venus. When I got away from the guy, I was determined to find my next partner all by myself. A match based on actual connection. That’s how I met Jae.” Her gaze floats to her new husband, and an expression of love fills her features, her aura shimmering. “Listen. I know that you cupids try to do what you believe is right, but your matches don’t always work. That’s why I gave all my friends red strings of fate. To protect them from bad arrows… although, based off of the way you look at y/n, I’m pretty sure it’s not her who’s been shot.”

Mingyu can feel a lump in his throat. He can also feel a presence at his shoulder, and Chan leans forward to whisper, “Damn, dude, she read you for filth.”

Luna grins, looking at the new cupid behind Mingyu. “Stop shooting my guests.”

“You got it,” Chan agrees immediately.

“Look, we don’t have much time,” Luna sighs, “but what’s the deal with this whole thing. How did you even get shot? Are you guys drinking on the job, or what?”

“Actually, Venus herself instructed I shoot Mingyu and make him fall for your friend,” Chan defends himself. “Although, he was pretty much already in love with her anyways.”

Luna’s eyes widen in shock. “Venus did this?”

“Indirectly,” Chan nods.

“I don’t trust you guys, but I trust her,” the witch states. “I prayed to her that my friends find their soulmates, and now here you are.”

Could this really all be the witch’s doing?

Mingyu can hardly even think, he can only stand there dumbly, staring at Luna like she’s grown three extra heads and a beaver tail.

“You have to tell y/n,” Luna says, reaching out to touch Mingyu’s shoulder. “You can’t lie to her about all of this.”

“I can’t tell her-” Mingyu tries to argue, but once more, his tongue gets caught.

“You will. And we’ll hang out again soon,” Luna insists, sounding so certain that for a moment, Mingyu wonders if she has the gift of future sight.

“Hey, you two,” you appear at Mingyu’s side, holding out a glass for the bride. “What did I miss?”

“Just your new boo being adorable,” Luna grins. “He’s a keeper, this one.”

“What?” You let out a laugh, looking between Mingyu and your best friend. “But… you usually hate the guys I go out with!”

“Well, I like Mingyu,” Luna shrugs. “Something tells me he’ll be around for a long time.”

With a lift of her glass, the witch goes to sit down with her husband again, leaving you and Mingyu shocked. As you head back to your table, you cling tight to his side. “What did you even say to her?” you whisper.

“I hardly said anything,” Mingyu admits.

“Was it an aura thing? Luna always says she can read auras-”

Mingyu nearly chokes on air and it makes you grip his arm tighter.

“It was an aura thing, wasn’t it?”

“Something like that.” Mingyu doesn’t want to get into auras with you. The witch had been pretty specific about him coming clean to you, but now is definitely not the right time.

He’s very lucky that when you take your seats, a few of your friends immediately strike up a conversation. Mingyu hides behind the discussion, staying in the peripheries while he contemplates what his life has become.

Eight - the time to come clean

If Mingyu had been obsessed with you before the wedding, things are now on an entire other level. After his run in with the witch, you’d invited Mingyu to come dance with you. Holding you close while a slow song played had made the cupid feel in a way he’s never felt. Then, when he’d taken you home, you’d kissed him at your door step.

He can still feel the ghost of your lips pressing across his own, and when he closes his eyes, he can imagine you’re still there with him.

It’s been a distraction to say the least. Two days have gone by since that night, with you running through his mind like an olympic level track star.

You’d invited him to come for a date at your place, offered to cook dinner, and Mingyu’s been practically holding his breath in anticipation.

He fiddles with the string around his wrist as he approaches your home, knocking lightly on the door. His breathing is shallow, and he gnaws on his lower lip while he waits.

Mingyu can’t even help himself when you open your door, he pulls you into an immediate hug, breathing in your scent and letting out a deep breath.

“Hey, big guy,” you laugh, cuddling closer, tucking your head under his chin.

“Missed you,” Mingyu admits.

Your giggling continues. “Luna was right about you being a keeper, mister softie.”

You invite him into your home, giving Mingyu a tour. It’s hard for him to keep his focus on anything you’re saying though. You look adorably comfortable in your cute sweatpant outfit. He’s never seen you laid back like this before, and it feels like an honour that you’re trusting enough of him now to let him witness this side of you.

Soon, he finds himself in your kitchen, doing everything he can to help you prep the meal.

If you’re the head chef, he’ll be your line cook, and be damned happy to do it.

Talking to you is just so easy these days, especially since Mingyu can monitor your aura to pick up on the topics that truly make your heart sing. He sticks to your hobbies, your friends, things that have you glowing. He enjoys when you ramble on, as it gives him a chance to stare at your lips and imagine them on his own once again.

After dinner, Mingyu treads carefully. He’s very conscious of the fact that he’s in your home, and he’d never want to overstep anything with you.

When you invite him to watch a movie, he sits a respectable distance, but when you ask him if he wants to cuddle, Mingyu can feel his resolve getting thin.

He shuffles over to be the big spoon, watching you carefully get in position in front of him. You snuggle back, your bum brushing by the front of his blue jeans, and Mingyu’s breath catches. His hand finds your hip, keeping you still.

You look over your shoulder at him. “You okay?”

“Yeah.” He swallows thickly. “I just uh… it’s nothing.”

There’s a knowing in your eyes, and your aura glimmers with a mischievous tint that Mingyu usually sees with Soonyoung and Jeonghan.

You roll over, facing Mingyu. Your gaze dips to his lips then back up again. “I’ve been thinking about a lot lately.”

“Yeah?” Mingyu’s voice cracks. “Thinking about what?”

“That wedding date was really nice,” you muse, reaching up to trace your finger along his jaw. “I asked a lot of you when I invited you to that, but you came through for me. Luna even likes you, and I don’t think you understand how rare that is.”

“I’m more than willing to please,” Mingyu admits.

“Oh, trust me, I know you are.” You let out a giggle, your aura practically humming with happiness. “I’ve also been thinking about that kiss.”

“Me too.”

“Yeah?” Your grin widens, and you tuck in closer to his chest.

“Can I… do you want me to kiss you again?”

“Mingyu,” you coo, “I thought you’d never ask.”

The cupid takes in a shaky breath, cupping your cheek and staring into your eyes before he closes the distance between your lips. The first kiss had been soft, and this one is just as gentle, however, as you slant your mouth against his own, it begins to last much longer than the first one had.

You let out a small sigh, grabbing at the front of his shirt to drag yourself even closer. Your tongue darts out to lick at his lip and it makes Mingyu groan. His hand slips down to your hip, then the small of your back, pulling you the last few inches so you’re pressed to his chest.

Nothing has ever felt this good.

Mingyu’s spent his whole life matching humans, but now to be matched himself- there’s truly nothing like it in the whole world.

He gets lost in your lips, the way you let out more whimpers. He commits your sounds to memory, his fingers gently pressing at your skin. He’s doing his best not to be overbearing, he wants you to have all the control, and yet, he hopes it’s clear how much he wants you… how much he needs you, like the air he needs to breathe.

Luckily for Mingyu, you don’t mind taking a bit of control. With an annoyed groan, you move to straddle him, forcing Mingyu onto his back while your knees press into the couch on either side of his hips.

Your hands find his chest, and you stare down at him.

You’re so beautiful it almost hurts.

“Is this okay?” you ask.

Mingyu can hardly find his voice, but he manages to let out a choked, “Yeah.”

You lean down, pressing your lips against him again. Your tongue tastes his own, and as he’s leaning up to deepen the kiss, you pull away. Your hand finds his jaw, pushing his head to the side so you can access his throat, where you pepper his skin. You lick at sensitive spots that have him shivering, grabbing at the couch for any grip that can keep him from floating away from how good this feels.

Mingyu knows where this is going. He can feel the blood rushing to his cock, which presses up against blue denim. He can even feel the heat between your own legs, an unspoken need that’s only building with each passing second.

His heart thunders in his chest. He hates to do it, but he whispers your name, prompting you to slow down your movements.

“Yes, Gyu?”

“I need…” he swallows thickly, closing his eyes in concentration. “I need to tell you something.”

“Is now the right time?” you giggle, licking his sweet spot and making a shiver run through his entire form.

“I can’t- I can’t do this without telling you everything about myself.”

“Sounds serious.” You pull away, sitting up so you can look down at him with a frown. “Are you okay?”

“Yeah, I’m uh… really okay.” Mingyu does his best to steady his breathing, but with the view in front of him, it’s difficult. “I don’t even know how to tell you what I need to tell you.”

“Take your time,” you assure him, pressing your hand gently to his chest, palm over his heart. “I won’t judge you.”

“It’s not about judgment,” Mingyu sighs, placing his hand over your own. “I don’t know if you’ll even believe me. You’ll think I’m crazy or something.”

“Try me.”

Mingyu takes a deep breath. “I told you I’m a match maker.”

“Uh huh.”

“And that’s true- but… I didn’t tell you the extent of it.”

“The extent of it,” you repeat, and Mingyu can see you trying to figure out where he’s going with this.

“I really don’t know how to say this with you looking at me with your pretty eyes,” Mingyu groans.

“Here.” You lift your free hand, covering your face. “Is this easier?” your words are slightly muffled by your palm, and the goofiness of it immediately relaxes Mingyu.

“Actually, yes.” He can’t help but giggle, and you join in with him while he takes the moment to ground himself. “Okay so basically…” Mingyu takes a deep breath. “I’m a cupid.”

“Huh?” You still have your hand over your face, but it’s clear you’ve furrowed your brows in confusion.

“Luna can verify it. She’s a real witch, which…I was honestly kind of shocked at, and I’m a cupid, so if you don’t believe me about this, I get it, I really do. Listen- I was trying to match you with someone, and I just couldn’t do it. Then a cupid I was training shot me while I was looking at you, and long story short, Luna has a connection to Venus or something and Venus thought it would be a good idea if one of her sons actually fell in love, and now here I am, and it’s a mess, but… yeah.”

You’re quiet for a long moment. Your aura flutters with mixed emotions, and it makes Mingyu’s stomach twist into knots about how you’ll react.

“Can I look at you?” you ask finally.

“Sure.”

You remove your hands from your eyes, gnawing on your lip and tilting your head while you study him. “I want to see your wings.”

“You what?”

“If you want me to believe you, I think I should see your wings. You’re a cupid, right? So you must have wings?”

Mingyu considers it a for a moment. He’s never shown a human his wings before, but he’s also never fallen in love with one either. He lets out a deep breath. “Okay, but I have to be on top to show you.”

You’re quick to agree, and after a short shuffle, Mingyu finds himself kneeling between your thighs. You’re resting on your back, propped against a pillow, and you’re watching him carefully.

“I’m gonna take my shirt off,” he warns you, grabbing at the hem of his white v-neck.

You stay quiet, eyes taking in each inch of exposed skin as Mingyu slowly strips his torso bare.

“I should tell you… I’ve been in human form when I’m with you. But when I show you my wings- when I go full cupid, you might not be able to resist me.”

You rake your gaze across his sculpted chest, enjoying the tanned skin, pretty pectoral muscles and washboard abs. “I’ve hardly been able to resist you like this,” you muse. “Dazzle me, Mingyu. I’m ready.”

The cupid takes a deep breath. When he exhales, he lets go of the walls he’s built up. He allows his full self to come into form, his large white wings taking shape behind him. When he’s human, he kind of forgets about the wings, they’re always with him, just not always physical. Now that they’re out, he can feel the temperature of your apartment, the slight cool sensation against his sensitive feathers.

Mingyu can’t help but stretch the appendages, allowing his full wing span to protrude outward from his back.

He hears a small squeak of surprise that escapes your lips, and you sit up immediately, clearly wanting a better look at the marvelous wings.

“Are you sure you’re a cupid and not an angel?” you ask, your gaze meeting his as your fingers extend to hook in the waistline of his jeans.

“I can be anything you want me to be,” Mingyu whispers.

You lick your lips, eying his wings again. “Are they sensitive?”

“More than you can imagine.”

“Can I… Can I touch?”

Mingyu stares at you for a second. No hands but his own have ever touched his wings. Cupid wings are sacred, like their bows and arrows. Mingyu doesn’t touch his brothers’ sacred things, and they don’t touch his.

But you’re not one of his brothers.

He slowly nods. He can’t find it within himself to give you a verbal confirmation, not when he holds his breath waiting for contact.

“I’ll be gentle,” you promise. It’s almost as if you can sense his hesitancy about this- although, from the tense way Mingyu’s holding his body, he supposes it’s no secret.

As one final show of trust, Mingyu adjusts his right wing, folding it around his body so you don’t have to reach so far. He watches you close the distance between your fingers and the white feathers.

When your digits make contact, a shiver runs through him. You’re quick to pull your hand away, eyes widening. “Did I hurt you?”

“No.” Mingyu shakes his head, catching his breath. “I just… no one has ever touched my wings.”

“You really weren’t kidding when you said you haven’t dated a lot.”

“I’ve never dated,” Mingyu corrects the white lie from when he’d first met you.

“Never?”

“Never,” the cupid confirms. “I’ve had… interactions with other immortals, but I never let them see my wings. You’re the first human to ever see me. Like this, and in all ways.”

Your aura beats with adoration for him, and the emotion written across your face doesn’t need to be said.

You wrap your hand around the back of his neck, pulling him down so his lips press against yours.

Mingyu flattens a palm against the arm of your couch to steady himself, half leaning over your form while the kiss deepens.

You trail your hand from his neck to his shoulder, moving slowly and gently, another wordless communication.

When you touch his wing again, it’s not sudden, instead, it’s anticipated, and Mingyu can’t help the groan of pleasure that escapes him.

Your fingers glide over a feather, tracing it. When you repeat the motion, Mingyu thinks he might faint from how good it feels.

“Oh my Gods,” Mingyu whimpers, breaking the kiss to pant heavily against your neck while you trail your lips along his cheek bone.

“Feels good, doesn’t it, big guy?”

“So good,” he admits, his jeans feeling painfully tight now.

It’s as if you can read him. As if he’s a book that you’ve memorized, dog earring your favourite things. Each touch has him enthralled by you, and each touch is perfection.

You drag your free hand along his chest, moving down-

His breath catches when you cup him through his jeans.

He must be as hard as a rock, and you trace the outline of his bulge, teasing your digits along the tip.

“Please-” Mingyu groans, hips thrusting of their own accord, looking for any friction he can find while you continue to stroke his wing.

“Tell me what you need,” you encourage him, applying more pressure to his cock.

“I need…” the cupid’s throat tightens and the words get caught. There are so many things he needs, he just doesn’t know where to start. Mingyu takes a deep breath, smelling your growing scent of arousal. When he looks down, your aura is practically pulsing between your legs, and it draws all his attention. He licks his lips, feeling confident this time when he says, “I need to taste you.”

“Then taste me,” you practically purr.

Mingyu’s had his fair share of one night stands with sirens and demi gods and other beings of the like- he knows what he’s doing as he gets off the couch and sinks to his knees.

He grabs at you, man handling you into a position that works for him before tugging off your sweat pants.

You release a giggle, leaning back against the couch cushions while he spreads your thighs. Mingyu looks up at you, meeting your gaze as he begins to kiss up your legs, taking his time to pepper your skin.

That pretty pink aura practically blinds him as he works his way closer and closer to where you need him most. He can see a wet patch along the fabric of your panties, and he can’t help but spread your legs open even more, leaning forward to press a kiss to your clit through the silky material.

You let out a sigh of happiness as Mingyu begins to lick and prod your panty clad core. He can taste you along the fabric and it’s driving him insane.

His fingers squeeze your thighs, and he allows you to adjust one over his shoulder- then your toes brush past the base of his wing, causing him to moan loudly. You shiver from the vibrations of it, reaching down to tangle your fingers in his hair.

He eats you through your panties until you’re bucking against his face- until his cock is throbbing so hard he physically can’t wait any longer.

Hooking his fingers in the fabric, he tugs your underwear down your legs, and then he’s burying his tongue in your core.

You release a squeal of delight, tightening your grip in his hair. You pull him even closer, wrapping your legs around his head as he licks your pussy like he’s never licked anything in his entire life.

The sounds you’re making now are better than all the angel songs Mingyu’s ever heard. He could listen to you whine and moan for the rest of his life.

“Fuck, just like that, oh my God- Gyu-”

He wraps his lips around your clit and you whimper, pussy beginning to throb in preparation for the orgasm Mingyu can’t wait to drag out of you.

Your fingers tug on his hair, and the pain only makes him go harder. He sucks hard on your sensitive bud, flicking at it and groaning at your taste.

Mingyu’s eaten fruit from the Garden of Eden. He’s eaten fairy nectar and every mystical delicacy he could get his hands on. But nothing - nothing - has ever tasted the way you do.

He could get drunk from your pussy- in fact, he already is.

His mind is going hazy, words are losing their meaning. It’s as animalistic as Mingyu’s ever felt, he has two goals: the first, to make you cum harder than you ever have, and the second, to do it again, but with his cock.

“I’m gonna-” you whimper, rutting against his face. “Please, don’t stop-”

Your sounds get pitchier and pitchier until you let out a gasp. Your pussy clenches around nothing while he sucks on your clit, intent on drawing out your orgasm.

You begin to squirm and he holds you down with both hands, eating you out until you’re a moaning, shaking mess.

When your grip loosens on his hair, he pulls away, looking up at you.

You’re an absolute vision. Your chest is heaving under your shirt, your lips puffy from kissing and biting. Your eyes are closed, head thrown back, body still twitching.

Mingyu wipes his mouth with the back of his hand, standing up. He undoes his jeans, pausing for a moment before pushing them down. “Still want this?” he clarifies.

You open your eyes, looking up at him with the most fucked out expression he’s ever seen. “If you don’t fuck me, so help me God, I’ll get Luna to cast a spell on you.”

Mingyu can only laugh. “Like… a love spell?” Mingyu asks as he pushes his pants and underwear down. “Because trust me, nothing in the world could make me more into you than I already am.”

“Is that so?” you grin, pulling off your shirt to join him in nudity.

“Uh huh. Which is why I can’t fuck you on this couch.” Mingyu reaches down, scooping you up into his arms. “Which way’s the bedroom?”

“Last door on the left down the hall,” you sigh, tucking close to his chest.

You pepper his throat in kisses the entire way to your room, where Mingyu gently sets you onto the bed.

“Do we… should we use protection?” you ask.

Mingyu cocks his head to the side. “I can conjure my bow and arrow-”

You let out a laugh, your aura glimmering with amusement. “No, silly, I mean like condoms.”

“Oh…” Mingyu thinks about it for a moment. “Should we?”

“I mean… I’m on birth control…” you look him up and down. “Your magic cupid cock isn’t gonna outsmart the pill, is it?”

“That’s a good question.” Mingyu looks down at his rock hard length, wrapping a hand around it to relieve some of the pressure there.

“You know what? Fuck it.” You hold your arms open for him. “Just get inside of me.”

Mingyu laughs, getting onto the bed. He holds himself over you with an elbow pressed to the mattress, his free palm finding your abdomen. “I should work you open a little first,” he tells you, pressing his lips to your own.

“I don’t mind a little pain.” You reach for his cock, stroking the precum on the tip and tracing the length of it.

“I don’t want to hurt you,” Mingyu admits. “Ever.”

You don’t respond, you simply kiss him deeper. Mingyu takes this as a confirmation to drag his fingers down to your core. He starts with his middle digit, teasingly pushing it in and out of your wet hole.

You pump his cock while he works you open, applying just the right amount of pressure to keep him on the edge. He adds a second finger and you mewl desperately against his lips, hips rutting to match his pace.

You’re practically drenching his hand. At this point, he knows you could take him- he just wants to see how much you’ll allow before your beg for it.

Mingyu loves playing with you like this. He enjoys the act of love making, and he’s in no rush- although, his cock is starting to be something near painful with the amount of blood that has him standing at attention.

“Gyu…” you whimper, pumping him even harder.

It’s clear you’re about to beg- but he can’t stand to actually have you do it. He gives in immediately, pulling his fingers from your core. He brushes your hand away from his length, lining himself up with your pussy.

Mingyu presses his lips to yours as he pushes inside, moving slowly so you can adjust to inch after inch of his girthy cock.

You grab onto his shoulders to steady yourself, gently digging your nails into his skin. No matter how hard you try, Mingyu doubts you could actually draw blood, and what might be painful to a human is nothing more than an annoying tingle, but it’s hardly a distraction from the feeling of your pussy swollowing him up.

He can’t help the groans that leave him as he kisses you, finally flush with your body. Your walls throb around him, adjusting to the intrusion.

“Mingyu,” you whimper, wrapping your arms around the back of his neck. “Please-”

He begins slowly. Mingyu’s not sure how fragile humans truly are, and he doesn’t want to fuck you so hard that your back breaks. Instead, he takes his time, adding more and more speed and power. He notes your reactions, notes what makes you squeal.

When he’s satisfied with a particular whimper, he stays doing what motion had earned the sound. The whole bed is rocking from his thrusts, and you’ve turned into a moaning mess for him again- but he wouldn’t have it any other way.

“Shit, you’re so good-” you gasp, breaking the kiss to lick at his throat, circling his sweet spot while he fucks you into the mattress.

Mingyu can’t help himself, he grabs one of your hands, lacing your fingers as he fucks you. There’s something intimate about the hand holding- and when he looks up, he realizes it’s the hands that have red strings on their wrists.

However, as he fucks you even faster, he notices the strings aren’t simply their own bracelets anymore- they’re somehow intertwined.

Mingyu can’t bring himself to think about it too hard, not when your wriggling under him, your wet pussy engulfing him with each thrust-

Your free hand reaches around his back, fingers brushing over a feather, and Mingyu almost cums right then and there.

“Fuck-” he whimpers. “If you do that again, I’m gonna-”

“Cum with me,” you whisper. “Please, I’m so close- if you fill me up, I just know I’ll get there.”

You stroke another feather and Mingyu’s entire body twitches, his muscles tensing with pleasure.

“Please, Mingyu!”

You’re on the verge of tears, and when Mingyu looks down at you, he’s completely overtaken by how much you’re glowing. He’s never seen a human aura glow like yours- and now, you look absolutely godly beneath him.

One more stroke of his feathers has Mingyu groaning loudly. He buries his face in your neck, squeezing your hand as he pushes his cock as deep inside of you as it can go. He can feel each heavy beat of his heart as he fills you with rope upon rope of cum-

Your pussy clenches tightly around him, and from the way you’re moaning in his ear, he knows you’ve reached your high too.

All you can do is hold each other, breathing each other in while you get lost in a pleasure that could never be topped.

He’s in love with you, body and soul.

Mingyu’s not sure how long he cums, all he knows is that he’s practically spent as he comes down from the high. He’s breathing heavily, you both are, and he stays on top of you while you ground yourselves again.

You begin to stroke the back of his neck, and Mingyu takes this as a cue to put some distance between your chests so he can get a good look at you.

“You okay?” he asks.

“Better than okay,” you muse with a lazy grin. “And Gyu?”

“Yeah?”

“As crazy as this is… I love you too.”

It takes a moment for Mingyu to realize what you’re saying, because he hasn’t directly said those words- and yet, he’d betrayed himself multiple times without even realizing it. He’d mentioned getting shot with an arrow, Venus wanting a son to fall in love. He’d even said that no love potion could make his feelings stronger than they already are.

Mingyu had been so lost in you that he hadn’t even known that all of his walls had come crumbling down.

There’s no secret he’ll ever be able to keep from you, and that’s clear now.

But there’s no secret he’d ever want to keep from you.

You’re his other half. His pink aura baby. And staring down at you in the aftermaths of the best sex of his life, Mingyu knows that whatever happens, you’ll be his soulmate till the day he ceases to exist.

Nine - the note

Hi, gorgeous. I’m sorry you have to wake up alone. Duty calls. I’ve got council meetings this morning that I can’t miss. But we’re connected now. One tug on your red string and I’ll know you’re trying to connect. There’s no where in your world or mine that I could go where you can’t reach me. I love you. I’m here for the long run. If you want, I can see you tonight. Give the string three tugs anytime after noon, and I’ll be there faster than you can even imagine.

Hugs & kisses

Love,

Cupid

☀️ mlist + an. Thank you so much for reading! Happy (belated) Valentine's Day to all us Gyu obsessed hotties

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🔮 preview. You’re practically drooling as Mingyu shrugs the fabric off of his body, revealing a form that was literally sculpted by the Gods. You could stare at him forever and never get bored. He’s the sexiest person you’ve ever seen in your entire life, and as you wrap your hand around the base of his cock, earning a loud groan, you know that he’s all yours.

cw/ tw. Unprotected sex, Mingyu loves pussy, oral (m/f receiving), big dick Mingyu, pussy eating, blow job, hand job, deep throating, face fucking, touching cupid wings as a sexual stimulus, female masturbation while giving a blow job, fingering, squirting, pussy stretching, praise, etc… I petnames. (hers) gorgeous. (his) big guy.

👹 rating. 18+ explicit I wc. 2.9k I teaser wc. 150

🌙 starring. Mingyu x afab!Reader

bonus

It’s Valentine’s Day and you wake up alone, and yet, you don’t really mind.

In the few months you’ve been dating your Cupid, he’s stepped up his game when it comes to checking in on the matches he’s made. As he’s become closer with Luna, and heard her failed love story, Mingyu’s been increasingly diligent on all things human relations.

He’s left a note for you on your pillow, as he does every morning he has to work instead of waking up with you.

You read it with a smile, enjoying all the hearts he’s drawn across the lined paper.

You don’t mind spending the first part of your Valentine’s Day alone. Three rough tugs on the string around your wrist would draw your lover back, but you figure his job is important today of all days.

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general taglist

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svt taglist:

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#mingyu #mingyu smut #svthub #kim mingyu #kim mingyu smut #svt #svt smut #seventeen #seventeen smut #mingyu svt #svt mingyu #mingyu x reader #kim mingyu x reader #mingyu svt smut #svt mingyu smut #cupid mingyu

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starryhyuck · 3 months ago

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can’t get you out of my mind. (m) — PREVIEW

pairing: alpha!jaehyun x afab!omega!reader

words: 16.2k+

summary: the ceremony to choose your alpha mate has arrived.

genre: fluff, angst, smut

warnings: outdated gender roles/stereotypes, some women hating women dynamics (that resolves in the end), mentions of war, mentions of loss during childbirth, disapproval of in-laws, possessive!jaehyun, pregnancy, breeding kink, tiny bit of face riding, bigdick!jaehyun, squirting, knotting, nonstop fucking between jaehyun and reader, public sex, mating

release date: october 24, 2024

this fic is already released for early access to the $5 tier on my patreon, which you can access here!

“You silly omegas.”

You jump nearly three feet in the air, gasping and holding your hand to your chest. You swivel around to see Jaehyun standing behind you, arms crossed and eyebrows raised in amusement.

“A-Alpha Jeong,” you stutter, bowing your head. “I apologize, I wasn’t aware-“

“You omegas are always starving yourselves in front of us. When are you going to realize alphas are never settled when our omegas aren’t taken care of?” He questions, stepping beside you and taking out the leftover steak in the fridge.

You keep your eyes planted to the ground as he moves around you, heating up the meal on the stove.

“Alpha Jeong, you don’t have to-“

“Just call me Jaehyun,” he interrupts gruffly. “Alpha Jeong this, Alpha Kim that- all the rules get so tedious.”

You flush in embarrassment. “We shouldn’t be alone together without an elder present.”

“Another rule,” he sighs, using two fingers to lift your chin up. You meet his gaze head on. “I won’t tell if you won’t.”

You swallow, blinking slowly at him. Being this close to an alpha while unmated is against all commands of the elders and betrays every ounce of your omega training, but you nod and say, “Okay.”

“Besides, the elders sleep like they’re dead anyways,” he says with familiarity, which makes you realize that Jaehyun’s grown up around all the elders who have accompanied you to the ceremony because he’s next in line to become head alpha. He steps back from you and resumes cooking at the stove. “So,” he starts, humming. “The Handbook for Dressmaking is a riveting thriller, isn’t it?” He asks you with a smirk playing at the edge of his lips.

“Oh,” you mumble, wringing your hands nervously. “Yes, I believe it was the top book for the omegas in our district.”

He chuckles. “What’s your actual favorite book? Be honest.” He takes out a cutting board and slowly starts peeling the skin of one of the apples on the counter.

“Um- t-that is my favorite book, Alpha-“ you stop and clear your throat, correcting yourself. “Jaehyun.”

“You omegas,” he repeats with a shake of his head. “Always lying, trying to say what you think is the right thing. I don’t want to hear the dictation from your mother’s handbook. I want to hear your real opinion.”

Your heart beats rapidly in your chest. You’ve never told another being about straying away from the traditional omega values. Jaehyun looks at you with an impatient expression, however, and you can’t bring yourself to lie to the next head alpha.

“History retellings about the war are my favorite,” you confess in a gentle voice. His eyebrows raise in surprise. “They provide me with a picture of what we needed to do to succeed as the dominant species.”

It’s not ladylike in the slightest to assimilate oneself to such acts of violence, and you’re certain this would be the final nail in the coffin to ward Jaehyun far from you. Instead, he smiles.

“That’s a new one,” he laughs. “And the children? As many as the moon grants you?”

It’s no secret that after the war, many omegas don’t find it as easy to give birth as they used to. The lingering chemicals and difficult winters led to harsher environments for omegas to successfully carry a pup to term. Nowadays, omegas who strive for more than four children sign their own death sentence. Regardless of the staggering data, the elders teach all omegas that they must give birth to as many pups as the moon will grant them.

“Two,” you whisper, shifting your stare from him and towards the wall. “Just two would satisfy me.”

He hums again, but makes no effort to scold you for your admission. You expect the son of the head alpha to be more strict on the nation’s laws surrounding omega submission, but Jaehyun breaks out of the mold you initially assumed of him.

He slides a warm plate on the counter, filled with the delicious food you resisted eating hours ago.

“Eat well, omega. I thank you for your honesty.”

When he exits the kitchen, your mind reels over the thought that not all alphas are as bad as you believed them to be.

want to read the rest of this fic now? access the $5 tier on my patreon here!

#nct smut #nct x reader #jaehyun #jaehyun smut

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sweetkpopmusings · 5 months ago

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stray kids soulmate aus | k. seungmin <3

a/n: these days i am QUITE the seungmin simp & it shows :,-) i had a lot of fun writing a very classic kpop fic meet-cute with this one ! if you need me, i'll be watching seungmin compilations <333 pics not mine~

content: fluff, soulmate au | wc: 1.9k | warnings: none really! | pairing: soulmate!seungmin x gn!reader | requests: open

on your 18th birthday, you receive a stack of sticky notes on which you can write to your soulmate. there is one note for every day leading up to when you meet.

˚ʚ♡ɞ˚

you settled into your desk chair, eager to see what anecdote seungmin has chosen for you today. it was always a thrill to get a peek into his daily life, and it was especially entertaining when he removed context from the situation to make you laugh. over the years, he developed a knack for telling stories just the way you liked them.

we went shopping today, in that area that always smells like ice cream cone batter. i bought a cool phone case. you better compliment me on it when we meet. i know it’s only ten days away, but i encourage you to put a reminder on your calendar, so you don’t forget to appreciate my taste in accessories.

-yours, seungmin

you scoffed. he was always extra sassy when he was excited about something. you tapped your pen against your desk, devising the perfect reply to seungmin’s daily update.

i promise i’ll tell you the phone case is cool, if and only if it actually is. we must be on the same wavelength because i went shopping today too (it didn’t smell like ice cream cone batter where i was though). i picked out new clothes for the day we meet, so you better compliment me on it as soon as you see me. should we make a joint calendar event since you’re quite forgetful?

-yours, y/n

not even 30 seconds passed when you saw seungmin’s handwriting appear near the bottom of the sticky note. you smiled, feeling his playful energy infect you.

like a wise person said, i’ll tell you the outfit is cool, if and only if it actually is. i’d love to make a joint calendar event, but we can’t share contact information yet, remember? i’ll have to trust you won’t forget the phone case…i guess that’s more important than remembering a basic rule about soulmates, so i’ll have faith in you :-)

-yours, seungmin

with another roll of your eyes, you wrote your last message to seungmin for the night.

you test my patience, kim seungmin. get some rest now. i know you’re working hard on your comeback, so i’ll be rooting for you!

-yours, y/n

you smiled at the tiny heart seungmin drew in the bottom corner of the page before you peeled the sticky note off the stack. electricity ran through you every time you noticed how much it shrank. soon, very soon, you would be teased by seungmin in person. you hoped that you’d deliver the perfect eye roll in response to his snarky comments, as a way to show him you truly loved him.

staring at the note, seungmin laughed at his desk, right when felix walked by.

“what’d y/n say?”

“none of your business.”

despite the nature of the retort, seungmin’s tone was lighthearted. felix laughed and left seungmin alone to place the completed sticky note in his not-so-secret box, where he kept every word you’ve ever exchanged safe from the rest of the world.

˚ʚ♡ɞ˚

hi soulmate~ let’s see if our tastes match. tell me your ideal meet-cute.

-yours, seungmin

you felt a blush on your skin at seungmin’s cute tone. you imagined he was feeling particularly sweet as your meeting was only three days away. you took your time mentally ranking the best meet-cutes you’d witnessed in books, movies, tv, and real life.

hi seungmin~ there are a lot of good ones, but i have to stick with the classic: locking eyes across a crowded room. what’s yours?

-yours, y/n

you stared at the note, eager to see whether seungmin had a romantic side after all. you laughed in disbelief when you read his answer.

wow, no “hi soulmate~”? rude :-( my favorite trope is spilling coffee on someone. i’d enjoy that as long as i’m not the one getting spilled on. let’s hope your outfit isn’t too cool!

-yours, seungmin

you imagined seungmin was laughing at his own joke, which balanced out his vague threat to spill coffee on you.

you’re such a menace :-( i’m about to revoke “soulmate” from your nicknames, as a matter of principle.

-yours, y/n

seungmin, despite himself, blushed at the thought of you having different nicknames picked out for him. his heart fluttered, feeling extra sweet because of you.

i’m YOUR menace. see you soon! i’ll be the handsome man holding two coffees <3

-yours, seungmin

you sighed, knowing there was a real chance he’d carry two coffees around that whole day. if there was one thing about seungmin, he’d commit to the bit.

i’ll run away from you, and i hope you spill one of the coffees on yourself while you chase me. at least we’ll be matching <3

-yours, y/n

from miles away, you and seungmin laughed at the same time. similarly, you both played out different meet-cute scenarios for the rest of the night. seungmin would never admit this to you, but he’d love to see the excited look on your face if your chosen meet-cute was what fate had in store.

˚ʚ♡ɞ˚

though you returned home later than usual, you were still surprised to see the sticky note halfway filled up by the time you sat at your desk.

my schedules start before sunrise tomorrow, so i have to go to bed early, like a grandpa. chan says this is a good time to go to bed…what else would we expect though? anyways, i’m sorry i won’t get to write back tonight. tell me about your day! i’ll read it as soon as i wake up. i promise. :-)

sleep well, and i’ll see you tomorrow~

-yours, seungmin

your heart sank a little at the fact you wouldn’t be able to interact directly with seungmin the night before the long-awaited day. however, the butterflies in your stomach reminded you that there was plenty to be excited about.

hi soulmate~ i’m jealous you’re sleeping so early. i was out late because i had to get everything ready before attending the live show recording tomorrow (i still can’t believe i won that ticket lottery!). i’m worried i won’t be able to sleep well from the excitement.

don’t forget about my outfit! just look for the best-dressed person and you’ll find me :-)

i’ll be sending you the strength to get through your schedules! i can’t wait to see you tomorrow~

-yours, y/n

you smiled to yourself, feeling in your heart that seungmin would start his day off happy, as you finally gave him the greeting he’d been waiting for.

˚ʚ♡ɞ˚

from the second he read your note, seungmin couldn’t wipe the smile from his face. everyone noticed the way he beamed, so it didn’t take long for them to put together that he’d be meeting you today. his members were painfully obvious about trying to catch a glimpse of you wherever they went. seungmin was in such a good mood that he didn’t even tease them that much.

realizing that the live show recording was almost definitely where you’d meet, seungmin noticed that his palms were sweatier than normal. he shook them out, taking deep breaths to calm his heart rate. this may not have been the first stage for their new song, but it was the first stage you’d be at, so the stakes were high.

despite the nerves from the night before, you were happily enjoying yourself at the show. of course, every performance was incredible, and the crowd was energetic. by the time there was only one act left, you felt your body start to grow tired. an adrenaline rush hit you full force, however, when you saw the name “stray kids” light up the stage.

jaw dropped, you were silent while the rest of the crowd screamed. your eyes raced to find seungmin. he was on the opposite end of the stage, giving you at least a chance at composing yourself before he saw your face. the music started, and you joined the crowd’s cheers. seungmin’s stage presence and vocals in person were breathtaking, and you felt a swell of pride knowing that your soulmate was so talented.

as though he could sense you were thinking of him, seungmin turned his head to the area where you stood. the second you locked eyes, seungmin grinned like an excited puppy. he waved to you, feeling giddy enough to make a heart with his hands. you matched his energy, smiling widely and bouncing from the magic of it all. there he was, just across the room, saying “hi” to you and only you.

per the instructions seungmin mouthed from the stage, you waited in your seat for a bit until a staff member brought you backstage. despite the recording being done, the halls were crowded with bustling employees and idols alike. all of the noise was drowned out by someone calling your name.

“hey y/n! i like your outfit!”

you turned around, seeing seungmin waving again. he beamed, and you rushed over to him.

“you remembered!”

seungmin laughed at your excitement, “i did forget my coffee though. it looks like your meet-cute won in the end.”

his eyes twinkled as he looked at you. rather than feeling nervous, you two chattered endlessly. you giggled at the way seungmin blushed when you complimented his performance. in turn, seungmin giggled at the way you blushed when he called you pretty. being able to have a conversation that exceeded the character limit of a sticky note left both of you with the zoomies, much to the entertainment of seungmin’s eavesdropping members.

“seungmin!” hyunjin yelled from a suspiciously nearby spot, “we have to leave soon!” hyunjin waved at you, “hi y/n!”

you waved back, and seungmin told you to ignore hyunjin, which made you laugh. as you exchanged contact information, you kept your promise and examined seungmin’s phone case.

“i like your phone case, seungmin! it matches your style perfectly,” you pointed at the object in his hand.

“thank you!” seungmin grinned for the umpteenth time that day, proudly holding the phone out for you to see, “this is the best part, if you ask me.”

you were surprised to see a sticky note in the back of his phone case. you leaned closer to examine it, and you felt a wave of fondness wash over you. in his hand, seungmin held one of your earliest sticky notes. on it, you had drawn a picture of what you thought seungmin looked like, purely based on how he wrote. you were way off, which you learned once you saw a picture of him online. it did accurately capture seungmin’s personality, though, so seungmin was quite proud of your artistry.

“it’s a one-of-a-kind drawing, so i wanted to show it off.”

seungmin’s tone was teasing, but you could feel the compliment, “you’re so sweet, seungmin! maybe i should have a matching one?”

he nodded, “i better see the portrait i drew of you in your phone case next time i see you.”

you laughed, “understood! i feel chan staring at us, so you should get going. call me when you get home?”

“of course!” seungmin smiled, “promise me one more thing?”

“hmm,” you feigned deep thought, “it depends on what it is.”

“next time you come to watch us perform, sit by my side of the stage.”

“only if i can see lee know too.”

seungmin glared at you momentarily, breaking into a laugh because he was so endeared by the pout you gave in response. after you said your goodbyes, you watched seungmin bound down the hall to meet his members. before he went around the corner, he turned to wave to you again, mouthing goodbye, soulmate!

˚ʚ♡ɞ˚

485 notes · View notes

sohnric · 1 year ago

Text

plot twist – k. sunwoo

pairing: kim sunwoo x gn! reader

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

wc: 21k

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

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

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

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

TONIGHT'S PREMIERE – UGLY TRUTH (2009)

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

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

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

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

Until one fateful day, of course.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Wait– newbie–”

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

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

“Oh.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

TONIGHT'S PREMIERE – PALM SPRINGS (2020)

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

Why?

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

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

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

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

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

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

He just laughs.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Yeah, pretty much.”

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

“My dad’s watching.”

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

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

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

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

Oh, how foolish of you.

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

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

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

“Look, you don’t have to-”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Who are you kidding?

You’d definitely say yes.

TONIGHT’S PREMIERE – THE HATING GAME (2021)

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

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

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

Maybe you should thank him, in a way.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“I know what those are–”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Sunwoo–”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Absolutely not.”

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

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

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

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

“Which one?” he asks, seemingly interested.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Wrong.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Why?”

“Because,” he shrugs.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Look, I really can’t-”

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

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

“Because…?” you demand a valid reason.

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

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

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

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

Maybe you should quit yourself, actually.

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

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

Yeah. Not too many.

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

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

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

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

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

Wrong.

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

“Fuck, man–”

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

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

“Oh?”

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

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

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

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

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

“Kim Sunwoo–”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“You have to be kidding me.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Do you believe him? No. Absolutely not.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Look, it’s not me, it’s my dad–”

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

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

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

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

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

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

The screening room was definitely cleaned before.

Which means that Sunwoo brought you here for absolutely nothing.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“What…?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

“I couldn’t,” he shrugs.

“Huh? But you bought two tickets..?”

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

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

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

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

“Probably,” he admits.

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

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

“Are you not leaving?” you ask.

“No,” he hums, “should I be?”

“Well, you’re on the clock…”

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

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

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

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

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

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

TONIGHT’S PREMIERE – CLUELESS (1995)

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Sir, I can’t-”

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

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

“So?”

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

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

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

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

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

“That’s ridiculous-”

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

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

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

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

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

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

“I’m sure he will.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

TONIGHT’S PREMIERE – ME BEFORE YOU (2016)

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

You force yourself not to care.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“What do you mean?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“How would you know?”

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

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

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

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

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

He fails you, though. “No.”

“Why not?”

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

“Oh come on–”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Okay, so it’s not working.

You’re fucked.

TONIGHT’S PREMIERE – THE PROPOSAL (2009)

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Not fair.”

“Very fair, actually.”

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

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

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

Fuck, you think. That’s my favorite.

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

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

“Just because. It’s too long.”

“It’s not even two hours?”

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

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

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

“Y/N, come on–”

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

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

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

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

“Maybe,” you shrug.

And maybe, the true reason is something completely else.

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

You decide you no longer want answers.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Grab a chair…?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“What–”

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

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

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

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

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

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

The choice is yours.

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Why–”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Sunwoo!”

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

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

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

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

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

Kim Sunwoo does make a really good kisser.

TONIGHT’S PREMIERE – PRIDE AND PREJUDICE (2005)

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

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

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

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

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

It’s the first snow of the season.

Kim Sunwoo loves it when it snows.

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

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

Well, here goes nothing, you think.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“I thought so too,” you nod.

“And you don’t?”

Shrugging, you reply. “Not really.”

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

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

“You don’t?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“You’re so cheesy.”

“But you quite like me anyways, no?”

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

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

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

“We’ll see,” you shrug.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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littlemisshyperfixation · 6 months ago

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Mingyu Fic Recommendations Part 2

a - angst f - fluff s - smut

part 1 part 3

One Shots

Singing Low (s a f) by @hannieehaee ✩♬ ₊˚. despite everyone within the industry knowing mingyu to date around a lot, what didn't meet the public's eye was his undying crush on you, his label mate, and his need to fill the you-shaped hole in his heart with any girl who'd give him the time of day.

Hits Different (...'cause it's you) (f a s) by @gyuswhore ✩♬ ₊˚. Kim Mingyu was the first friend your brother had brought home for dinner. Fast forward a couple years, his toothy smile and pierced ears would wedge their way into a permanent place in your heart. Nail to a coffin, never to escape.

or;

in which you get rejected by the only boy you've ever loved; a rejection you can't quite shake off.

good for you (s f) by @taeyongdoyoung ✩♬ ₊˚. your boyfriend is literally perfect and treats you like a princess but you want him to completely lose control

Over My Head (a s f) by @hannieehaee ✩♬ ₊˚. moving out of state for college was a terrifying experience for most people. fortunately for you, you had your older brother wonwoo to guide you while there, and even better, his best friend mingyu.

Endless Adoration (s f) by @wonusite ✩♬ ₊˚. ❝ Mingyu has been irrevocably in love with you since he was in high school. He decides to keep this a secret until he can move on since you’ve only ever seen him as your best friend’s brother. However, his plan goes awry when you ask him to take your virginity and teach you about sex—as a friend, of course. ❞

Bloom for Me (a s f) by @sanakiras ✩♬ ₊˚. even though you and mingyu share the same friends, there’s a clear distance between you. when you make a drunken mistake, he suddenly becomes increasingly aware of your lack of a relationship with him, and he takes on the challenge of changing it — not expecting to fall for the ice princess who turns out to be less cold than he thought.

Reckless (s) by @bitchlessdino ✩♬ ₊˚. Mingyu is a camboy and proud of it, as he should. Finally, he's getting the applause he deserves for his work and will be attending one of the biggest adult industry events to date. He just needs you to watch over while his house while he's gone. Easy enough, right? Unbeknownst to him, you happened to be a fan. A big one. One so big that you cant help but take advantage what Mingyu fans have only ever dreamed of.

I can do it for you (s) by @hoshifighting ✩♬ ₊˚. After years dealing with everything alone, you stumble upon an old wishbook from your past. And you jokingly writes down your ideal boyfriend, Mingyu. To your surprise, Mingyu magically appears in your couch.

kim mingyu's (unhelpful) guide to losing your virginity (s f) by @shuaflix ✩♬ ₊˚. ❝ you’re telling me that you, Miss Dick Repellent, had sex with Captain Chastity By Choice over here. ❞

Ways to Have a Man in the Palm of Your Hand (s) by @hoshifighting ✩♬ ₊˚. In the flow of uncertainty that defined your situationship with Mingyu, you decide to take action, making Mingyu start chasing after you like a loyal puppy.

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wannaeatramyeon · 6 months ago

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Gun Park x Reader: Protective (feat Goo)

G/N. Goo is a menace and Gun loves you.

"Who's that pretty thing?"

Goo cranes his neck, adjusts his glasses at who Gun had his arm around mere moments ago, and tries to take a closer look at you.

Gun refrains from snarling, knowing the reaction would only spur him on.

Using the act of taking a drag on his cigarette, Gun subtly moves closer to your body, shielding you from his partner's malicious gaze.

"Off limits," he replies, blowing smoke in Goo's face.

Gun knows he can be possessive, obsessive. 'Gets hooked on people' as Goo put it. However, he has never thought of himself as any sort of a guardian figure, preferring if people could hold their own in a fight.

Yet with you, he can't help the flare of protectiveness. The need to keep you safe. From dangers and wandering eyes and interest from over curious fools.

"Now now, no need to be like that." The blonde responds, wafting the smoke away with a cough and a sputter.

How intriguing that Gun is working so hard to hide you away. You must be a lot of fun. Simply precious.

Undeterred, Goo re-angles himself; directing his smile, stretched too wide and dripping with ulterior motives, past Gun's tense and defensive stance to you. Decides to go for charming instead of predatory, opens his mouth, prepared to sweep you off your feet and-

Gun steps completely into view, shifting in front of you so Goo has no choice but to stare at the black eyed demon and to face his wrath.

Gives his first and last warning, "Look for a second longer and it'll be your last breath."

"Ugh!" Goo pouts, visibility deflating at how serious Gun is. "You used to be a lot more fun," He mutters, then perks right back up without missing a beat, "Sweetheart, I can show you a much better time-"

The cigarette falls from Gun's grip and his hand snaps to Goo's arm, seconds away from weaselling its way around your shoulder.

Obsidian eyes flashing dangerously, "Don't you dare-"

With a sigh, Goo retreats and wriggles free.

Takes a step back and holds both hands up in surrender.

"Touchy." He tuts, throwing a dirty look at Gun.

"Nevermind," he shoves his hands in his pockets and shrugs, "I have some secret friends to meet anyway. Let me know if you ever get bored of him, sweetheart."

Goo grins at you before striding off and you feel a shiver down your spine.

You felt like prey trapped between two monsters. No, that's unfair. One monster that looks like they want to devour you alive, and the other - Gun Park. Your Gun.

Who has tried to shield you from everything. From the rain to the unsavoury side of his life and now to his unhinged coworker. Who kisses you intensely and treats you like you're the only one, the only thing that matters.

Gun senses your discomfort, notices the tightness in your body language. He reaches for you, pulling you into his body and wrapping his arms around you.

His eyes bore into yours.

"Are you ok?" He asks, and you can feel his voice rumbling in his chest.

The tension had also crept up on Gun. With each word from Goo Kim, each moment his eyes were on you.

It's unnerving. He's not used to this. He never expected to care about anyone's wellbeing except his own but now he's in your orbit - you're all he cares about.

"M'good," you tell him, leaning into him and voice muffled, feeling safe in his embrace.

Gun exhales.

At your words, the unease finally starts to drain away.

#lookism #lookism x reader #lookism headcanons #lookism hc #lookism fic #lookism webtoon #lookism manhwa #gun park #gun park x reader #park jonggun x reader #park jonggun #goo kim #kim joongoo #wannaeatramyeon

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97linelover · 7 months ago

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did you hear what the rumor said ? - Kim Mingyu

18+ / mdi

summary: Dating as Idols means, keeping it a secret. Rumors will spread, people will get hurt.

What if this one Rumor brings you over the edge and you no longer can handle this Secret?

content: Idol Mingyu x Idol reader, fight,angst, happy end,fluff,

wc: 1.4 k

a/n: I always think about, how tiring it must be for Idols to date, or to just meet people. How they need to keep everything a Secret. I would not want to trade with that.

If there's one thing the companies will teach you at the start of your career, it's handling rumors.

There will be rumors about everything. At the beginning, they will start small, but as the group grows, the rumors grow.

Ever since your debut, the rumors have been huge. Hybe's newest Girlband was rumored to be found by Woozi.

"Y/N Spotted Leaving the Seventeen Mansion"

"Y/N and Mingyu were spotted together at a luxury dinner; they were pretty cozy."

"Seventeen Mingyu was spotted with hickeys after a dinner date with Y/N."

So, as you may have guessed, the rumors were about you and Mingyu dating, and the funny thing was, the rumors were true. You met Mingyu while you were just applying for the Hybe Auditions; you could not find the door, and you bumped into him.

He kindly guided you to the right room, and from that moment on, every time you two spotted each other, you actually ended up hanging out.

And ever since he took you out on a date, you two have been officially a couple.

3 years together, and no one knows except your closest friends. It was like a routine, going to work separated but ending together on the couch. You were each other's comfort after a long work day.

But of course, those were not the only rumors. When you joined Enhypen in their dance challenge, Jay was looking at you with the brightest smile, and you jumped on his back. With that, a new ship was built, and Mingyu saw the headlines first. You rushed to his studio, where he was busy recording. You saw how his eyes were dull, and you just walked into the booth, hugging him.

"Only you, Gyu," you whispered while looking up at him. "Those rumors are getting out of control," he sighed, leaning his forehead against yours. "We just need to remember who we belong to, baby, you and me." You pulled him closer, "only us." He agreed, kissing you softly.

Meanwhile, the rumors did not stop you; you both just got better at ignoring them.

Mingyu was currently on a Japan tour, and you were busy with the upcoming comeback. The traveling made everything a lot harder, but you were getting better at handling it.

After you suggested that you want to watch their final Japan show, Mingyu declined, telling you that you need to rest, and there's actually no spot anyway. You wished him good luck and watched the livestream. You were always amazed by your boyfriend's talent.

When you scrolled through Twitter, you saw the new trending hashtag #mingyuSomi.

She was at the concert wearing the Mingyu Nana tour shirt; everyone shipped them; they always said they were the perfect match. You felt your heart hurt at that.

But when the concert finished, the normally post-concert call did not come through. It was a ritual you two had; whenever one finished a show, they would call and just say how they were feeling. They were never skipped.

and when you saw the new headlines, you felt your heart breaking into a thousand pieces.

Mingyu was spotted leaving the venue with a giggling smile on his arm. "Seventeen Mingyu and Jeon Somi were spotted leaving the stadium after Seventeen's final Japan tour." You wanted to swipe it away, but you could not.

"Jeon Somi and Kim Mingyu are known for their flirty relationship; tonight the two idols were spotted giggling and touching with each other; Mingyu apparently even joined her in the car, and they went out for a romantic Italian dinner. We think it's the minimum he could do for his girlfriend that joins him at the final show."

You did not notice the tears running down your cheek; you did not notice how you suddenly realized the situation—that she was there with him while you were sitting at home waiting for his call.

Even if this was just a rumor at this exact moment, it broke your heart. You knew Somi, and you knew that she was in love with Mingyu. This made it even worse.

You waited for his call the entire night, but the only thing you were left with were paparazzi pictures of them out in a club.

The only thing that could help you the next day was focusing on your comeback. You drowned yourself in work, and you ignored your boyfriend. You ignored his messages, and you ignored his calls.

You were being childish; you knew it; you were clouded by the pain you felt.

Without a safe flight message, you could not focus, so when you typed that in, you saw that he directly read the message. You quickly put your phone away, starting the music for practice.

When the evening came, you went home; you could not stay at his place. You don't even know what broke you exactly, but maybe the fact that everyone wanted them to be real while you were just watching him ditch you.

You began to cut some veggies and fry some chicken and sat down on the couch. You were busy watching Grey's Anatomy when you heard your door beep. Before you knew it, a furious Mingyu was standing in front of you. He was dressed in some joggers and the matching hoodie. He looked tired and clearly exhausted from the flight.

"Gyu," your widened eyes watched every step. "What the fuck has happened?" He crossed his arms and said, "Your ignoring me for two days and then your staying at your place?" He was angry. "I felt like it," you said with furrowed eyebrows. "You felt like it? You're lying now at me?" He grew mad, and you got up.

"I did not want to see you," you stated. "What the fuck? I missed you, and I could not wait to come back home, and now this?" He scoffed. "Maybe Somi would be happier," you muttered.

"Care to repeat that?" He raised his eyebrows. "Maybe Somi would be happy to have you home, my love," you said sarcastically, and he let out a huff. "What are you on about?"

"You told me that I don't need to come, that there is no space, and then I see fucking Somi there." You felt the tears. "You spent the entire night with her, and you forgot about me; you forgot our ritual." You blinked away the tears. "So this is the reason why I don't want to see you."

Mingyu was speechless. "And you don't think about talking to me? This is fucking ridiculous," he let out a laugh. "I DID NOT UTTER A WORD WHEN EVERYONE THOUGHT YOU WERE FUCKING JAY," he yelled, and you flinched.

If there is one thing, Mingyu never yells.

"ALL THOSE DUMB VIDEOS OF YOU TWO ALL OVER MY TIK TOK." You could not move at his outburst, and you could only stare at him in shock. When he realized that he had yelled at you, he gasped. "Y/N," he whispered, but you just let out a sob. "I think you should go," you whispered while turning around. "Apperantly, we're not that good at ignoring the rumors," you added while sitting down.

"Baby, I did not mean to yell," he whispered. "I'm tired, and I'm just so exhausted." He said with a pleading tone, "That's why you should go home; we should not discuss this right now; it will only end in a fight." You smiled sadly.

"I love you, Jagiya," he said while walking towards the door. "I love you too, but I don't want to be a rumor anymore," you sobbed. "Goodnight.".

You heard the door closing, and not even a minute later, you got a notification.

"Mingyu: Date nights only with you. 🔐❤️"

You saw that he posted a photo you took of him with you tagged, and you gasped. The blanket flew to the side, and you hurried to the door.

When you opened it, he was standing in front of the door looking at you. "You did not just confirm our relationship." You were at a loss for words, and he grinned at you. "I want you to be my only true rumor." He pulled you close and softly wiped your tears away.

"Please don't ever think anyone could be better than you; I love you with my entire heart; my family loves you; my sister sees you as the sister she always wanted; I could never love someone more like I love you.".

You softly kissed him and said, "So now let's talk about the monster performance." You pulled him inside.

#seventeen #kpop #seventeen angst #au #gyu #svt #mingyu #mingyu imagines #smut

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reminiscingtonight · 8 months ago

Note

arsenal, hoodies and hickies for tobin! (bonus if shes still playing for them and maybe dating someones sibling)

Spill The Tea (Alessia Russo x Press!Reader)

A/N: changed the req a bit bc there is no Tobin without Christen so I made the reader Christen’s sibling

“Is this something I’m going to need to tell Christen or can I trust you to be a responsible adult?”

There’s this thing with Tobin. Ever since she started dating your sister all those years ago, she’s really slipped into the role of the fourth older sister you don’t need.

While she isn’t as nitpicky as Tyler and Christen or as interrogative as Channing, Tobin still liked to harp on you quite a lot. So you’ve heard this question come out of her mouth more times than you can count. And by now you know better than to expect Tobin to keep a secret from Christen.

You tilt your head towards her, a singular eyebrow raising up in question as your arms stay halfway through your training shirt. Of all times Tobin could’ve started a conversation of course she had to wait until you were quite literally trapped with nowhere to escape.

“Why do you think I have anything to tell you?”

“You have a hickey the size of Maine on your neck.”

You follow her eyes down to your skin. Your still very bruised skin.

The memory of mischievous eyes sparkling as you tried to sneak out this morning flashes clearly through your mind as you hastily pull on a neck warmer from your cubby.

You can still feel Tobin’s eyes on the side of your face as you try to busy yourself pulling on the last of your clothes.

“You’re seeing someone, don’t lie.”

“And why do you think so?” You look up to see Tobin giving you a look. You roll your eyes. “Apart from the hickey.”

“You’re really going to make me play detective today?” When you don’t respond Tobin lets out an annoyed grunt. “Where to start? Well you’ve been sneaking in at 6 in the morning for the past couple of weeks.”

It’s not your fault you haven’t been given a drawer yet. Frankly the number of times you’ve stayed over should’ve already gotten you a place to store your things but Alessia’s been extremely paranoid about letting you leave traces of yourself at hers. Something about how her England teammates like coming over unannounced. A lot. Better to keep no trace of you at her place lest a blabbermouth blabbers too much.

“And changing your phone password? Not cool, dude.”

You cringe at the memory of Tobin storming into your room at half past twelve the other day, exasperated at the fact that a). you weren’t up and making her breakfast yet, and b). she couldn’t get into your phone to doordash some food.

You and Tobin shared everything. Cooking duties. The occasional snapback. Your phone passwords. But that last one was the first thing you changed when you started seeing Alessia.

“And finally, this,” Tobin pokes at the light blue hoodie peeking out of your duffle, “is not yours.”

You try ducking under her arm to get out of the locker room but Tobin grabs a firm hold of your training top, jerking you back towards her.

You’re nose to nose now and the forward has no problem using her height advantage to stare you down. “I’ll ask again. Who have you been locking lips with?”

You scowl. “Well you’re playing detective today right? Guess.”

Tobin’s lips pinch shut, a displeased look on her face.

Before she can retaliate, a brief call of her name by Kim has Tobin turning away. When her hands loosen their hold, you bolt, taking full advantage of Tobin’s brief dip of attention.

Unbeknownst to you, a pair of blue eyes follow you out of the room.

It isn’t until you’re already stretching on the sideline that long legs catch up to you. A soft smile breaks onto your face at the sight of other girl, hands opening and closing as you mime at her to come closer for a kiss.

For a second you think Alessia's going to crumble to your demands.

And then you see her panicked expression.

“Did Tobin figure out we’re dating?”

Sighing, you push yourself off the ground, taking care to brush grass off your legs. “No, Tobin’s smart but she isn’t that smart.”

Alessia gives you a look that has you wondering if she’s offended on the behalf of the striker.

You roll your eyes before giving her a light shove. “Relax, all she saw was your hoodie. She’s not going to know it’s yours.”

Alessia’s eyes widen at the mention of the sweatshirt you snuck out of her house this morning. Usually it’s cute and all and she really does love seeing you in her clothes, but faced with the fact that it’s branded with the UNC logo on the front? Or the fact that Tobin knows you followed in Christen’s footsteps and went to Stanford instead of Chapel Hill?

“My hoodie? Babe! Of course she’s going to know it’s mine!”

“Relax,” you repeat, hands coming up to rub at her tense shoulders. “There are four of you who played at UNC who are on the team now. She’ll be too busy trying to figure out if it’s you, Lotte, or Foxy to ever find the real culprit.”

If anything, your words only seem to agitate her more. Alessia slaps your hands away, arms crossing over her chest. “You’d rather Tobin think you’re dating Lotte or Em over me?”

Safe to say, any words you try to defend yourself with only digs you deeper into the hole.

Tobin’s pleasantly surprised to see you moping on the couch later that night.

It doesn't take as long as you’re expecting for Tobin to figure it out.

You’re doing your weekly check-in with your sister a couple days later when Christen’s face suddenly widens into a teasing smirk.

“So Tobin tells me you have a new girlfriend.”

You resist the urge to fling your phone across the room. Instead, you do the mature thing and hang up the phone.

Christen doesn’t look impressed when she calls back and you pick up.

“Oh don’t be a wuss. There’s nothing you can do without me knowing. So spill. Tell me all about her.”

You sigh, pinching the bridge of your nose. “Really, Chris? This is what you want to talk about?”

Even from a continent away you can see the megawatt smile being sent your way. “Couldn’t take my number so you had to take out a girl who has it too, huh?”

Tobin cringes in her room when she hears the telltale sound of your phone crashing against the wall.

#alessia russo x reader #alessia russo imagine #tobin heath x reader #tobin heath imagine #woso x reader #woso imagine #uswnt x reader #uswnt imagine #3wp #Ace writes

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tls12lessthan3 · 7 months ago

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can i tell you guys about my interpretation of a no-scenarios relationship between kim dokja and yoo sangah. im gonna do it anyway. the thing about a no-scenarios relationship of any kind between kim dokja and yoo sangah, for me, is i really think it would be so difficult for a genuine connection to form between them because kim dokja ultimately dehumanizes and fictionalises her the same way he does yoo joonghyuk. like his specific brand of dissosiation works as him viewing the world through the lens of fiction and he applies that so heavily to yoo sangah when we first meet her. she and him already have some vague form of relationship by this point - i would not call them friends but he moved those cameras for her! he kept her secret! and she knew and trusted him to an extent. that is on top of their teamwork in the job interview.

but we know none of this when we first meet yoo sangah because dokja views her as a heroine who would never cross genres with him, and he erases their history together in the process. he does the same thing with her putting pepper in her boss's coffee - thats not something a perfect pretty heroine would do so we have no idea she did it until she tells us, because kim dokja sort of - filters it out. he smoothes down the edges of her reality as a person and all the 'out of character' things she does into an easily digestible character he can push away as 'from a different genre'. and this is a massive fucking disservice to yoo sangah!! for the same reasons what kim dokja does to yoo joonghyuk is a massive fucking disservice to him!!

shes not a heroine! shes not perfect! shes not from a different genre! shes just a person and she wants to be your friend! i think if they were friends outside of the scenario kim dokja would a) try and push her away and more interestingly to me b) he would continue to try and slot her into his worldview as a 'heroine protagonist' and i think that would really grate on her. especially considering how the role kim dokja creates for her has some parallels to the one her parents made for her. kim dokjas lesson over orv of coming to understand the 'characters' as people is analogous for the one he would need in real life - just like his relationship with yoo joonghyuk couldnt reach its peak until he stopped viewing him as a character, he would need a similar journey of realization to start really understanding yoo sangah. its only then i could see them getting really close.

#orv #omniscient reader's viewpoint #kim dokja #yoo sangah

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anyamaris · 27 days ago

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Make Me

Pairing: Kim Seokjin x F!reader

Summary: Things between you and your long time best friend take a turn one day into forbidden territory-will you be able to go back to the friendship that you hold so dear?

Genre/AU: Best friends to FWB, non-idol au, angst/smut

Rating: 18+/M for mature

Word Count: 5782

Warnings: Adult Language, unprotected sex, playful banter/insults, unexpected sex, creampie, mild angst after the deed

A/N: Thank you to my beta readers @pars-ley @colormepurplex2 @yoonguurt you're amazing! @pars-ley for the ridiculously gorgeous banner and @cafekitsune for the dividers!

I was going to do this in a one shot, but I got a bit carried away and this will end up being at least two parts.

Taglist: @lapydiaries @bangtanwritershq @thebtswritersclub @ksmutsociety @frenchkisstheabyss

Dinner parties at Yoongi’s are always a great time, the combination of Sky’s hosting abilities and both of their cooking skills make any event they throw a complete smash.

You glance at the group bantering in the other room as you gather the dishes from the table, laughing at the chaos already starting.

“Stop, you’re a guest,” Sky tells you, but you just ignore her and continue to help despite her narrow–eyed look.

Giggling, you take off into the kitchen as she sighs behind you.

“They’re so cute, I knew they’d eventually end up together.” You tell her as she follows you, noting your glance at Namjoon and your long-time friend, Ty.

“Of course, totally called it.” Sky agrees, and you share a secret smile.

Since they first met, Sky has been whispering to you about the inevitability of it, and as always, she’s spot on.

Well, almost always, you think, smiling inwardly.

Her own story with Yoongi was something to behold, that was for sure.

A squeaky, wheezing laugh greets your ears as Sky swats you away from attempting to do the dishes, so you finally give up to go find out what is going on in the other room.

Before the door to the kitchen swings shut, you smirk as you hear Yoongi’s deep voice.

“You’d better leave those, baby, or -”

Shaking your head, you go plop down next to Hoseok, eyes locked on Jin as he rambles on about some incident at the practice room.

“What’s he on about?”you ask Hoseok, leaning over towards him as your eyes just watch the animated man yapping a mile a minute.

“Who knows, I tuned him out a while ago.” Hoseok chuckles as he shakes his head.

“Did someone bring the WD-40?” you ask as Jin lets out another one of his signature windshield wiper laughs.

“Yah!” he says, eyes wide with fake anger as he turns on you, causing the whole room to erupt into laughter.

You shoot a wink across to Ty, who is curled up with Namjoon on the opposite couch as Jin and Jungkook resume their little argument.

Sky was almost always right, you think again, settling in to enjoy the evening.

You open your eyes to your phone blaring at you, your jaw cracking as you yawn and clear the morning fog from your mind.

You know it’s Jin before you even look; he’d somehow managed to get ahold of your phone and used his ridiculous laugh for his personal ringtone.

You just shake your head as you slide the answer call button.

“Hey, something up? Shouldn’t you be working?” You ask, rolling your neck and rubbing the sleepiness from your eyes.

“Yeah, I should be but a pipe burst at my place and the whole ceiling came down. Dealing with this for now, but I have a favor to ask…”

His voice is punctuated by people talking in the background and you can hear him cover the phone with his hand as he answers something.

Probably the landlord and workers, you think.

“Of course you can come stay til it’s fixed, Jin. You don’t even need to ask.” you tell him, sitting up to swing your legs out of the bed.

“Ah, thank you! I appreciate it, you know I won’t be a bad roomie.” You can hear the relief in his otherwise tense tone.

“Didn’t want to ask the newlyweds?” you tease, knowing very well Namjoon’s place would be very...unwelcoming to guests at the moment.

His snort just has you grinning as you make your way to peek into the guest bedroom, already taking stock of what you need to do to get it ready for him.

“Seriously, I’m all for them being together but that’s different than rooming there…ugh the noises alone…”

You can only laugh at his tone and nod as you turn to go make a list of things to do today.

Step one, coffee.

“Sure you don’t want to stay with Yoongi and-”

“Don’t even say it, you know how bad it was last time.” he groans.

“Yes, yes, I don’t want to hear the details again about my friend's sex life. Grab whatever and I’ll have the room ready. You still have your key?” you ask, setting about your morning routine.

“Yep. Are you staying in today?” he asks, and you can hear the voices calling for him once more.

“Yeah, I may run out for a moment but other than that I’ll be here. Go take care of that. See you in a bit.”

You hang up, letting out another big yawn as you pad over to peek into the fridge.

I’ll have to run to the grocery store too, you put on your mental checklist.

One of the things you love the most about when Jin comes over is cooking together, so you always have to make sure you have some fun things to work with.

Deciding to put off your writing for the day since Jin is coming, you focus on getting some laundry going before heading out to grab some things.

The weeks following Jin temporarily moving in go as they normally do for the two of you.

Early mornings where Jin is waking up as he makes his way out to early practice or the studio, as you are finally closing your laptop after an all-nighter.

Your schedules have a brief overlap, allowing you to catch up with each other about random things over quick shared simple breakfasts before he’s rushing out the door as you shuffle off to sleep the day away.

Completing your most recent chapter ahead of deadline, you find yourself slowly getting back to a regular schedule and can catch up with some more social activities.

Yoongi had taken Sky with him on some kind of work related trip, and most of your friends were busy with their own schedules.

You hadn’t the heart to harass Ty too much with the new relationship, knowing that her infrequent text responses are a good sign that she’s likely quite busy.

Lounging on the couch, you scroll through the most recent conversations.

“Namjoon’s keeping her occupied.” you hum happily as Jin leans over your shoulder to read the text on your phone.

The scent of fresh soap washes over you and you glance behind at the man now hovering over you.

Clad in only a towel around his waist, his damp hair tickles your cheek as you turn to raise your eyebrow at him.

“Is that my towel?” you ask, sighing at the cute little sunflowers now adorning his otherwise naked body.

“It looks good on me.” He winks at you, and you can’t help but push his face away, rolling your eyes at him.

“I left one for you, Seokjin! I just did the laundry! Why are you using mine?”

Walking around to go grab a water bottle from the fridge, he just takes a long swig before he’s turning to finally answer you.

“Don’t want to share?” he grins, reaching out to lean against the wall beside him.

“Ugh, don’t pose to try to look sexy, Jin. Now I won’t be able to use that again, just the thought of your dick tainting my pretty little flowers….” you sigh dramatically, looking back at your messages.

“Try?!” He scoffs, and you try to keep a straight face while his voice rises, anticipating the incoming rant.

“”Mhm…try.”

“I’ll have you know, I’m considered very sexy! You should have heard the staff talking about how handsome I am at the company today-!”

You merely nod, not looking up from your phone as he continues, doing your best to not burst into laughter.

Nodding absentmindedly, his rant finally just turns into muttering as he wanders off to hopefully put on some clothing.

It was always a good day when you got Jin to rant, it just means this is a win for you.

“What do you want to cook?” He asks as he shambles back out, finally drawing your attention as you finish answering some texts.

“Now there’s a question…” you say, hoisting yourself off the couch to go poke around with him in the fridge.

By the end of the evening, you find yourself in your normal spot, lounging with your leg over Jin’s, his arm perched behind you on the back of the couch as you watch the most recent episode of the drama you’d both decided on.

It was nice to have something to look forward to with your schedules being so wacky lately, and by the time it finishes, you’re happy to find that you’re tired while it’s still dark out.

Covering your mouth to hide the big yawn, you extract yourself from your best friend, checking the time.

“I may be able to sleep tonight and get up at a normal hour tomorrow,” you say.

Glancing over, you can’t help but smile at the half-asleep man blinking as if he didn’t fall asleep halfway through the show.

“Go to bed, sleepyhead.” you tell him, reaching out to ruffle his hair as you make your way to your room.

“Yeah, bed.” he echoes sleepily, but before you can close the door to your room, he calls out.

“Hey, tomorrow the guys want to go out. Letting you know ahead of time that I won’t be back til afternoon Saturday.”

You nod, appreciating the heads up.

“Alright, I almost forgot tomorrow was Friday. Thanks for letting me know.” you wave to him, closing your door before heading to flop on your comfy bed.

Good, you could lounge around and have some alone time, you think.

It’s not as if Jin being here is a hardship, of course.

But you did miss not having to worry about having pants on in your own home.

Not that Jin would care, but you had some decency.

It’s not like you wanted to go around flashing your best friend, even if he does use your towel like a jerk.

“So, when are you two announcing that you’ve moved in together and have been having a secret relationship this whole time?”

Sky’s text from earlier just makes you shake your head, and Ty’s “Just get it over with and we can all be happy couples, girl.” only adds to your exasperation.

“Quiet, both of you.” you murmur, tossing your phone on the comforter as you curl up in bed.

As if you haven’t had this conversation with pretty much every single person in your friend group, or heard some semblance of this mindset.

At this point, you’d both started to play into it, much to the dismay of your friends.

Have you ever had feelings for Seokjin?

You surely appreciate his attractiveness, as much as you like to tease him.

He really is very handsome, of course.

But all of them are handsome in their own ways.

Ty and Sky both knew about your secret crush on Hoseok years ago, and that had gone nowhere for the same reason you’d never even attempted to think beyond the basics with Jin.

Especially with Jin.

You’d given up the idea before you let it get out of control or even let on about it.

Your friendship matters so much more than a physical relationship, even if you’ve pondered what it could be like.

This dynamic had been established basically from day one, way back in your first year of college when you’d met their friend group.

As friends, you two were so open and honest, to the point of hilarity.

He could match your energy and you enjoyed getting him as riled up as he got you.

You may tease each other and pretend to argue, but you’ve never actually had a true fight.

You knew once that line was crossed, feelings would get complicated.

There was something special between you two and you treasured what you had right now.

For all you knew, the perfect dynamic of friendship you currently have could quickly turn into a really bad match if you ever dated.

You guarantee that Jin would agree with you, so there was nothing more to talk or think about.

Sighing into your pillow, cursing your friends for making you think about the same stupid things for the millionth time, you close your eyes to get some rest only to hear your phone ding one last time.

“I used your loofah too.”

“GODDAMNIT, KIM SEOKJIN!”

You launch a pillow at your door as you hear his distant high-pitched laughter and clapping through the otherwise quiet apartment.

“Where did I put my-aha!”

You glance up at the man currently acting like he hasn’t packed everything he’s needed well ahead of time.

Rolling your eyes as he scoops up his favorite hoodie from the back of one of the kitchen stools, you can only shake your head as you return your focus to your last email of the day.

“Hey, I saw that.” he huffs, padding to the door to get his shoes on, “Don’t miss me too much, brat. I know you’ll be counting the hours while I’m gone.”

This draws your attention, eyebrow raised as you give him a deadpan look.

“Oh Kim Seokjin, how I pine for you. Whatever will I do without your presence nearby?”

Your monotone coaxes a laugh from him as he checks himself over once more, then turns to nod at you.

“I know, it’s tough but you’re strong. You’ll survive this. Hwaiting!” He raises both fists to you before saluting.

Snorting at his antics, you just shake your head and return to your email to send it.

“Yeah yeah, have fun, catch lots of fish, yadda yadda, don’t get eaten by a shark…”

Before you can finish, the door is swinging shut, the sound of Jin singing loudly slowly fading down the hall as he leaves.

“Dumbass,” you mutter, unable to keep the smile off your face.

Closing your laptop, you stretch and look around your now empty apartment.

“Ah, freedom for a night!” You say to the walls, bouncing up to go change into something comfier.

The plan for the evening is to lounge around and watch some music videos, cooing over your current idol crush all while not wearing pants.

Letting your mind wander, you calculate how long Jin has been staying with you.

A little over a month at this point, you think.

He’d just gotten the call this week that his place would be ready very soon, so he wouldn’t be here much longer.

Though, it was no hardship to cohabitate with him, definitely not.

Most of the time, it was more comforting knowing someone was around, even if he steals your used towels and laughs like a hyena.

Still…

You love your best friend, but a girl needs her alone time.

When was the last time you even got a chance to release some pent up sexual frustration?

You’re not entirely sure how it’s been for him, but you know for sure that it was a little too weird to even make use of your special drawer next to your bed knowing he could be listening in at any time.

Not that you’re ashamed of masturbating, but there was also the idea of making him uncomfortable as your guest.

Though, in reality, you know he’s more likely to bring it up at breakfast and tease you about vibrator noises than feel embarrassed over it, like he did last time.

Regardless, it has been a while since you’ve even gone on a date, let alone had any physical encounters.

It’s not necessarily a plan to do anything tonight, but knowing that if you get in the mood you can do so openly.

“Right on the couch!” You announce, letting out a little cackle as you toss on an oversized nightshirt, sans bra.

Ahh liberation, you think, stopping to contemplate your special toy drawer.

“I'll be back for you later, Dannie.” You pat your little end table as you shuffle out to the couch, plopping down and not giving two shits if your panties are showing.

Smug and content, you settle in for a nice, cozy, intimate evening with yourself…and maybe a few named friends.

Deciding against getting too freaky right away, you find yourself lounging happy on the couch.

A little over an hour has passed since you turned on the newest music on YouTube when you hear the sound of the door being unlocked .

Stiffening, you sit up straight, tense at the unexpected intrusion.

Who else had a key besides you and Jin??

Confused, and grateful you’d stopped singing at the top of your lungs due to the song ending, you feel your heart leap into your throat a moment before the door swings open to reveal Jin.

Blowing out a relieved breath, you place your hand over your heart.

“Holy shit, Jin!” You almost yell, falling back on the couch, fear dissipating into annoyance.

His big, wide eyes blink absently at you, confusion written all over his face.

“Sorry, sorry, I should have texted. The trip got canceled at the last minute so we ate before I came back.” He sighs, tossing his bag on a nearby table as he removes his shoes.

“Well that sucks,” you say, glancing at your phone. “At least they fed you.”

He just nods, finally turning to face you and take in the scene.

“Did I interrupt?” He asks, leaning against the door frame as he scans you.

Unwilling to give him the pleasure of your embarrassment, you just feign annoyance as he gives you a cheeky smirk.

“Never seen a girl without her pants on before, Jin? I understand.” You shoot back, turning back to your TV, using the remote to pretend to look for something to watch.

He snorts, huffing out a laugh.

“You know, if you missed my handsome face that much, you could have just told me.”

“Ha!” You retort, rolling your eyes, “There goes my plans to masturbate on the couch to porn, not to you.”

Instead of laughing or walking away, the frustrating man just waltzes over, plopping himself down beside you.

“Oh by all means, don’t let me stop you.” He gestures to the TV, never taking his eyes from you.

Oh here we go, you think, narrowing your eyes at him.

Eyeing the arm he tosses casually across the back of the couch behind you, you fight the urge to elbow him in the gut.

It always starts like this with you two.

Your mouth is faster than your brain half the time when he says infuriating things, and vice versa.

It's the majority of the reason you get along so well, but also the reason for some serious competitive moments.

The self congratulatory look on his face says it all; he thinks he’s already won and you can’t have that.

“The last thing I’d want is to embarrass you by showing you something you’ve never seen before.” Your eyes are locked on the television as you try to ignore his gaze.

He chuckles, relaxing as he gestures to the screen, “Oh please, as if Namjoon hasn’t ruined computers downloading-” he starts but you cut him off.

“Oh I don’t mean porn, Jin. I mean you seeing a woman experiencing pleasure in your company.”

It’s almost adorable how his lips twist up and purse, and you can’t help but gloat inwardly as the barb hits its intended target.

Before you can bask in the early victory, he’s leaning in close and you can’t help but shiver at how his warm breath tickles the shell of your ear.

“Perhaps if you had better taste in men, you wouldn’t have to rely on that little stash of fake dicks in your drawer so much.”

Swallowing, your eyes narrow at his comment even as his fingertips dip into the strands of your hair to tease at the nape of your neck.

He chuckles softly, blowing gently into your ear as you seethe, your mind reeling because that one is a little too close to home, and he promised to never bring that up again.

You can feel your cheeks stain as you struggle to not let him win this one.

“That one hurt, didn’t it?” He teases and you just nudge him with your shoulder as you turn to glare at him. “If your taste ever improves and you need a real man to show you-”

He winks and you just snort at him, unwilling to concede that his little touches and nearness is affecting you much more than his taunts are right now.

You can’t stop yourself from leaning in closer to him, reaching up to brush back a strand of dark hair from his brow.

“Oh don’t worry, Seokjin. I’ll make sure to call Hoseok.”

His eyes fly wide open at your words, head snapping back as he blinks at you in his typical dramatic way.

“HOSEOK?” He yells, and you can’t help but start giggling as he goes to grab you, dodging him and rolling off the couch before bouncing up to stick your tongue out at him.

“What’s wrong, Jin? Jealous?”

You dance over near your door to put some space between you, giddy at watching the vein in his neck pulse and his jaw clench.

You don’t know why, but sometimes invoking Hoseok’s name just gets the best reaction out of him.

His eyebrows shoot up as he slowly stands, and the stern look on his face has your stomach doing somersaults.

God, why is he so hot? You think off handedly, trying not to admire the width of those goddamn shoulders.

“Are you scared?” He retorts, ignoring your question, eyeing you as you go on the defensive.

You let out a huff, pretending to toss your hair as you eye him from head to toe.

“Scared? Of you? Unlikely, I could have you pinned in an instant.”

It’s his turn to scoff at you, and he raises a hand and gestures at you, beckoning you over.

“Come here and prove it then.” he taunts, giving you his signature smirk.

There’s a beat of silence as you stare one another down and you tense before you toss out your next words.

“Make me.”

The tension in the room builds as his eyes seem to darken, hardening yet dancing with excitement as he lowers his head.

The squeal you let out echoes through the room as he finally springs towards you, your heart thumping wildly as he rushes at you.

Barely evading him, you dart into the kitchen, putting the island between you as he chases, feigning back and forth before sprinting back into the living room, then down the hallway.

“You can’t outrun me-!” He calls out, and you can’t refute that fact, but you’re sure as hell going to try.

Laughing and shrieking, fear and excitement coursing through you, you can feel him gaining and you make the mistake of looking back over your shoulder to check.

Unfortunately, this causes you to overshoot the door to your room, allowing him to all but slam into you as he wraps his arm around your waist from behind.

Lifting you and spinning you as you kick your feet, you can feel his hot breath on your neck as he tries to catch his breath.

“Make you, huh?” He pants, forcing you around so you’re facing him.

You can’t stop letting out little giggles and yelps as he cages you against the wall, grasping one of your wrists to hold you in place.

As if his body pressing you against the wall isn’t enough to keep you there.

Catching your breath, you try to stop laughing as you suck in air.

“Mmm, yes make me.” you quip, looking defiantly up at him.

His dark eyes flit back and forth across your face, then down at how he has you pinned to the wall, then back up again.

His throat bobs as he swallows heavily and the reality of the position you’re in suddenly hits you.

His body pressed against you, arm over your head, the bulge in his pants stiff against your thigh.

Breath hitching, tamping down on the arousal that slams through-you just blurt out with a laugh,

“Kim Seokjin, are you hard?”

The rosy tinge that creeps up his neck fascinates you as you wiggle your hips a little, causing him to gasp and he loosens his hold on your wrist in shock.

“Thinking about Hoseok gets you going, eh?” You tease, taking advantage of the moment to slip under his arm and rush into his room with a cackle.

Your head is spinning at just how much you want to find out what would happen if you explored this avenue, your body reacting to everything much faster than your brain can talk any sense into it.

Your name echoes through the apartment in a deeper tone than you’re used to him using, almost in warning as you leap onto his bed to scramble away from him and possibly find something to use for bartering.

Maybe his plushie-?

Shit, my ass is completely exposed, you think a brief moment before you feel his hand clamp around your ankle like a vice.

The thought that this is an extremely dangerous situation for you both flits through your mind as he yanks you down the bed towards him and easily flips you over, his weight landing on you as he pins you down.

“You’re such a little shit, you know?” He states simply, battling with your arms as you attempt to tickle him, finally managing to restrain you by holding your wrists down on either side of your head.

Assessing your current position, you can’t see any path to freedom as you wriggle beneath him, your tangled limbs combined with his full weight on you not allowing for a way out.

Snickering at his comment, you only nod happily as he stares down at you in a mixture of frustration and…amusement?

Something has his eyes gleaming as his chest heaves against yours.

Countless times you’ve played this little cat and mouse game, and countless times you’ve found yourself in positions much like this with Jin.

But for some reason, tonight feels different, as if there’s a tight rope you’re both walking and one little slip up will have you both falling into unknown depths.

It’s as if time stands still as the tension in your stomach coils, both of you studying one another as if silently daring the other to push.

“I know.” You say, your voice huskier than you’re used to hearing it.

Shifting, you swear you can feel the pulse in his erection against your inner thigh and you involuntarily clench as your mind battles with your rising lust.

“You’re not wearing a bra.” He states, definitely not a question.

“I’m not.” you reply, acknowledging how your nipples have been responding to his chest rubbing against yours.

“I won…but you’re cheating.” His voice is softer now, yet there’s an edge to it that has you wanting to rub your thighs together to ease this tension.

If only he wasn’t pinning you down.

“Lies.” You claim, but your body rebels eagerly as you wiggle beneath him.

A small struggle ensues until you manage to push your legs open so that his very sizable cock is pressing right where you want him most.

What am I doing?

The thought is fleeting as much more important needs are making themselves known.

The breath leaves Jin in a woosh, followed by a soft groan as his hips jerk forward against you.

Heat spreads through you as the entire situation teeters on the limits of just playing around, and you know that if one of you doesn’t give in then this could be a very complicated predicament.

Yet, the “giving in” you desire most right now isn’t putting a halt to things.

Heat pools in your lower abdomen as your buried, forbidden longing claws its way to the surface to make itself known.

“Admit defeat.” You finally say, even as your hips lift against him.

You can’t help but relish the way his eyes roll, his lips pursing as he lets out a grunt at your tactics.

Silence fills the room as you both search one another’s eyes, asking something that you can’t form the words for.

“Is that what you really want?” He inquires softly, head tilting as his eyes flit back and forth as if implying something much more than simply giving up.

Only a moment ticks by before you nod once, your heart beating in your throat, then he says one simple thing that changes everything.

“You win.”

His mouth is on yours before you can take another breath.

The hands gripping your wrists disappear and your arms are snaking around his neck, his fingers slipping behind your neck as he rubs his thumb against your pulse.

A low keening noise leaves your throat as his plush lips dance over yours, his tongue slipping along the seam as you open eagerly for him.

Fuck he can kiss, you think dizzily, even as his free hand slips down to tug at your shirt hem.

Time stretches and compacts as you both tear at each other’s clothing in a frenzy, only parting lips to tug one another’s shirts over your heads to toss them away.

His scent overwhelms you, his own natural scent of nectar mixed with the cedar and fig of his cologne.

It’s a fragrance you’ve always loved but now it’s spiraling you out of control as moisture pools in the fabric of your panties.

You breathe a wanton moan into his mouth as his large hand cups your tender breast, kneading and brushing the pad of his thumb across your taut nipple.

“Brat.” he groans as your back arches at his touch, his lips skimming down the column of your throat.

Your fingers tangle in his hair, tugging harshly as your other hand traces a path down his spine.

“Prick,” you retort, even as his teeth nip at your collarbone.

“Shut up.” he grunts as your legs wrap around him.

“Fuck me,” you respond in kind even as his hand leaves your neck to slip between you, yanking desperately at the button of his pants.

His only reply is freeing himself finally, kicking off the rest of his clothing then assisting you as you tear at your panties, not even caring if they’re ripped in the process.

You’ve both gone beyond the point of asking at this point.

You cry out in euphoria as he only takes a moment to look down between you to position himself before he’s thrusting deep within you.

Your blended moans are swallowed as his lips crash against yours once more, his tongue plunging into the depths of your mouth as he stretches you deliciously.

Tears prick the back of your eyelids at the insanity of it all, the heady mixture of pleasure and relief, the almost sacrilegious act you’re both committing.

You don’t think you’ve ever wanted anything more than you want this right now, with him.

The thought has your head spinning, pushing the implication of it away as you rake your fingernails down his back, his deep moans followed up by soft whines barreling you inevitably to a rapid climax.

Before you can even fully realize it, you’re clamping tightly around him and breaking the kiss to scream his name loudly as your climax rips through your entire being.

Your name drips from his lips as sweat drips from his brow, his face contorted in beautiful ecstasy as you pry your eyes open, needing to see him as his hips snap against yours.

“Again, let me see you-” he gasps out, lowering his forehead to yours, his eyes locked on yours.

You can only nod as you swallow harshly, cradling his head as you grasp at his shoulders, unable to look away as his wordless cries grow louder and more desperate.

His lush lips part, his cheeks flushed gloriously as you urge him with your eyes, with your hips, with your cries to let go for you; with you.

His hips stutter as you feel yet another orgasm tear through you, his moans reaching a crescendo as he thrusts forward one final time, emptying within you in a hot flood.

He buries his face into the crook of your neck as his entire body quakes, hips stuttering erratically as he collapses fully onto you.

Your fingers comb through his now damp hair, a layer of sweat clinging to both of you from the exertion as you both attempt to regulate your breathing.

You can feel his heart racing against your naked breasts, and time extends as you both lay entangled in a spent heap.

“Jin-” is all you manage before he’s shushing you, lifting himself before his mouth is covering yours, silencing whatever it was you are about to say.

As your sanity slowly returns, you open your mouth to say something, anything.

Grateful, you surrender to his wordless command.

It’s not as if anything you could say now would make any sense after that.

Darkness surrounds you as you open your eyes slowly, the fog of sleep clearing as you feel a heavy weight pressing on your chest.

Reality slams into you as the crown of Jin’s head becomes slightly visible in the dim room.

Your heart thumps as you gaze at him, cheek pressed against your left breast as he breathes softly in his sleep.

The ache between your legs is far too welcoming as you study his gorgeous pouty lips, his dark lashes only highlighting how handsome he is, especially like this.

You tentatively reach up to caress his cheek, gently tracing his eyebrows, his cheekbones, his lower lip.

He snuggles you at the touch, his lips twitching in an almost smile as he smacks his lips happily in his sleep.

Oh fuck this is so dangerous, you think, panic washing through you.

What the fuck did we just do?

Feeling dread wash over you, all you can think to do is slowly extract yourself from the slumbering man, pausing every so often as he stirs until you can slip from the bed.

Before you can collect your thoughts, you need to get away from him…now.

As you shut his door softly, you place your hand over your heart as your mind races.

The last thing you expected was to be sneaking out of Jin’s room with his semen leaking down your thighs.

Scurrying to the bathroom, you barely manage to suppress the frustrated scream bubbling up in your throat.

Did you just ruin your perfect friendship?