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sohnric · 5 months

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plot twist – k. sunwoo

pairing: kim sunwoo x gn! reader

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

wc: 21k

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

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

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

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

TONIGHT'S PREMIERE – UGLY TRUTH (2009)

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

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

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

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

Until one fateful day, of course.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Wait– newbie–”

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

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

“Oh.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

TONIGHT'S PREMIERE – PALM SPRINGS (2020)

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

Why?

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

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

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

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

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

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

He just laughs.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Yeah, pretty much.”

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

“My dad’s watching.”

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

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

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

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

Oh, how foolish of you.

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

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

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

“Look, you don’t have to-”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Who are you kidding?

You’d definitely say yes.

TONIGHT’S PREMIERE – THE HATING GAME (2021)

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

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

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

Maybe you should thank him, in a way.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“I know what those are–”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Sunwoo–”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Absolutely not.”

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

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

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

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

“Which one?” he asks, seemingly interested.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Wrong.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Why?”

“Because,” he shrugs.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Look, I really can’t-”

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

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

“Because…?” you demand a valid reason.

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

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

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

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

Maybe you should quit yourself, actually.

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

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

Yeah. Not too many.

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

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

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

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

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

Wrong.

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

“Fuck, man–”

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

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

“Oh?”

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

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

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

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

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

“Kim Sunwoo–”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“You have to be kidding me.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Do you believe him? No. Absolutely not.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Look, it’s not me, it’s my dad–”

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

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

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

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

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

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

The screening room was definitely cleaned before.

Which means that Sunwoo brought you here for absolutely nothing.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“What…?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

“I couldn’t,” he shrugs.

“Huh? But you bought two tickets..?”

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

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

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

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

“Probably,” he admits.

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

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

“Are you not leaving?” you ask.

“No,” he hums, “should I be?”

“Well, you’re on the clock…”

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

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

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

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

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

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

TONIGHT’S PREMIERE – CLUELESS (1995)

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Sir, I can’t-”

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

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

“So?”

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

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

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

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

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

“That’s ridiculous-”

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

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

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

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

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

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

“I’m sure he will.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

TONIGHT’S PREMIERE – ME BEFORE YOU (2016)

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

You force yourself not to care.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“What do you mean?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“How would you know?”

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

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

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

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

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

He fails you, though. “No.”

“Why not?”

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

“Oh come on–”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Okay, so it’s not working.

You’re fucked.

TONIGHT’S PREMIERE – THE PROPOSAL (2009)

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Not fair.”

“Very fair, actually.”

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

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

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

Fuck, you think. That’s my favorite.

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

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

“Just because. It’s too long.”

“It’s not even two hours?”

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

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

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

“Y/N, come on–”

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

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

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

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

“Maybe,” you shrug.

And maybe, the true reason is something completely else.

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

You decide you no longer want answers.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Grab a chair…?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“What–”

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

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

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

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

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

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

The choice is yours.

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Why–”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Sunwoo!”

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

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

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

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

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

Kim Sunwoo does make a really good kisser.

TONIGHT’S PREMIERE – PRIDE AND PREJUDICE (2005)

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

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

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

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

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

It’s the first snow of the season.

Kim Sunwoo loves it when it snows.

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

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

Well, here goes nothing, you think.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“I thought so too,” you nod.

“And you don’t?”

Shrugging, you reply. “Not really.”

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

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

“You don’t?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“You’re so cheesy.”

“But you quite like me anyways, no?”

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

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

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

“We’ll see,” you shrug.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

1K notes · View notes

theemporium · 9 months

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[4k] you made a deal with your boyfriend to do whatever he wanted to celebrate his podium and you were going to do exactly that, even if the rest of the world was determined to get in the way. (smut)

part one

Much to his dismay, he couldn’t get you alone after he had finished his round in the media pen.

Lando stumbled into his driver’s room, buzzing and eager to get his hands on you, only to have a team member knock on his door and inform him that Zak wanted to take a massive group photo outside of the garage.

You shot him a sympathetic look before he left the room.

Then, when he tried to return, he was being pulled up by different team members and colleagues who wanted to congratulate him on the podium at his home race.

And just when Lando thought he was in the clear, he was being pulled into conversation by none other than Max Verstappen and Daniel Ricciardo—two boys he usually would’ve been happy to see—and somehow found himself roped into going out and celebrating the night.

It didn’t take a genius to work out Lando was getting angsty.

He had been all but pawing at you before you even left the hotel room, his hands on your waist and his face nuzzled into the crook of your neck as you tried to add the finishing touches on your makeup in the bathroom mirror.

“We could just stay in,” he murmured between soft, open-mouthed kisses he pressed along your neck. “Say fuck it and stay here.”

You raised your brows. “What are you gonna tell Max and Daniel?”

“Sorry guys, I would rather fuck my pretty girlfriend all night than get piss drunk!” Lando answered with a cheeky grin on his face, lifting his head enough to catch your gaze in the mirror.

Your cheeks burned. “Asshole.”

“We made a deal,” he mumbled, and was all but pouting as he flashed his puppy dog eyes. “You are cutting back on your end of the deal.”

“I’m not,” you said and turned in his arms so you were now facing him. “The night is young, who knows what will happen?”

What could happen was that Lando was about two minutes away from blowing a load in his trousers in public.

You had shooed him out of the bathroom so you could slip on your dress and heels just before the taxi with the other boys arrived. When you stepped out, clad in heels that made your legs look miles long and a dress that barely covered anything, Lando was fighting for his life to find a way to convince you to stay in the hotel room.

But his phone rang and the excited voice of Daniel came through the speaker as he announced they were outside and Lando didn’t even get a chance before you were grabbing his hand and dragging him out the room.

He had been on edge the whole ride to the club, his thigh pressed against yours and the sweet scent of your vanilla perfume driving him mad. He told himself he needed to reel it in, that he just got a podium at his home race, that he deserved to be carefree and celebrate with his friends like everyone else was doing.

But two sips into the beer in his hand and Lando wanted to be anywhere but the club at that moment. He watched as you made your way towards the bar, leaning over the counter and sticking out that pretty ass of yours as you ordered some fruity cocktail that would probably have him scrunching his nose.

He watched the way the hem of your dress clung to your upper thighs, the way your lips wrapped around your straw and the way your eyes fell shut as you danced to the beat of whatever song blasting through the speakers. He watched as you smiled and laughed with all of your shared friends, as you threw your arms over Max’s shoulder and laughed at whatever the dutchman had said.

Lando never considered himself a jealous man and he knew there was nothing more to your interactions than platonic nature, but the fact your attention was everyone but him was starting to get to him.

He was promised to have you all to himself tonight. He was promised free reign and a night of just the two of you, tangled between the hotel room sheets until the sun rose and you would have to rush to the airport for a flight back to Monaco.

He was supposed to be the only one listening to your laughs or watching you smile.

He was supposed to be the only one you cared about too.

With his mind made up and his body itching to have you in his vicinity again, he slammed his half-drunk beer down and ignored the joking comment Daniel said to him before he began pushing through a throng of dancing partygoers until he got to you.

“We gotta go,” Lando said as his arm wound around your waist and pulled you into his front, though his eyes remained on his friend. “We have an early flight in the morning.

Max scoffed. “Boo! You’re no fun!”

“Maybe next time,” Lando smiled, and to anyone else, it may have seemed genuine. But you could see it was slightly strained.

Your body felt like it was stuck in a trance as you followed Lando out of the bustling club, the chill of the summer night hitting you the second you left the club. You looked at him, taking in the sheer layer of sweat on his skin that made him glow. The way his chest peaked out from the open buttons of his black silk shirt and the chain around his neck. You took in how pretty your boy truly was.

His arm around your waist tightened as he pulled you closer, his other hand working his phone as his thumb tapped away before sliding back into his pocket.

You raised your hand, your thumb smoothing over the crease between his brows. “What’s wrong?”

Lando turned his head to look at you, his gaze unamused. “You really gonna play like that?”

You flashed him an innocent smile. “Like what?”

His eyes darkened. “Don’t play these games, baby. We had a deal.”

“We did,” you nodded as you placed your hands on his chest, letting yourself slowly stroke the material of his shirt and play with the buttons as you looked up at him. “The deal still stands.”

“Does it?” he questioned, his grip on your waist tightening. “Because to me, you were all too eager to get dressed up and head out tonight.”

You just smiled, leaning up on your tiptoes so your lips were brushing against his. Your voice dropped, the bouncers and other people loitering around the outside of the club not even a second thought as you whispered against his lips.

“And if I told you I’m not wearing any panties?”

His hands on your waist tightened its grip, but this time it was almost out of protectiveness. His hands dropped to the hem of your dress, pulling it further down your legs like it would help the fact you were wearing nothing underneath.

“Baby,” Lando groaned, his hands firmly planted on your ass to stop your dress from riding up.

“I wanted to be ready for you,” you murmured with your red painted lips pouting. “I said anything you want, Lando, that included any time and any place.”

You were goading him. You knew it. He knew it. Everyone and their fucking nan knew it but it didn’t stop you from doing so.

He let out a string of curse words muttered under his breath before slamming his lips against yours. He probably should’ve cared that there were people around, that anyone could record you both or take a photo and have it plastered on tomorrow’s paper. He probably should’ve waited until you were back in your hotel room.

But he had waited long enough and he didn’t have the patience to wait a second longer.

You let out a whiny noise from the back of your throat when he pulled away, your cheeks flushed and your lipstick smudged as you tried to pull him back down to you but a squeeze of your ass warned you to stop.

“Get in the car,” he grunted, his voice raspy and a little gruff and he pretended not to notice the way your thighs clenched in response.

He stood directly behind you as you clambered into the back of the car, his eyes fixated on your ass before he followed suit. The driver gave them a polite smile and nod of his head before he turned the radio up, confirming the hotel before he pulled away from the side of the street.

You looked towards your boyfriend, still a little dazed as you reached over to wipe away the red lipstick smudged across his lips but his hand on your wrist stopped you.

“Lando,” you murmured quietly as his hand moved down your arm, down your side until you shivered against him.

“No bra either,” he mused, a muscle in his jaw jumping as he moved his hand down until it rested on your bare thigh. “You said anything.”

“I did,” you murmured.

His eyes found yours. “Did you really mean it?”

You nodded.

“Anything I want?” he asked one more time because you both knew if you said the word, he would stop. But you didn’t want him to stop. Not at all.

“Anything,” you breathed out.

“Stay quiet for me, baby.”

Your bottom lip was tucked between your teeth as you felt his hand slide under the hem of your dress. Your eyes widened as you glanced at your boyfriend, questioning if he was really going to do this. But the way his lips twitched upwards into a soft smirk told you more than enough.

You tore your eyes away from him and looked at the front of the car, where the driver was oblivious to what was happening in the back of his car. Some Taylor Swift song was playing on the radio, filling the silence but you were far too lost in the feeling of Lando’s palm cupping your bare cunt to try and remember the title of the song.

“Lando—”

“Shh,” he ducked his head to press a lingering kiss on the crown of your head. “I told you to stay quiet, didn’t I?”

You nodded.

“So be a good girl f’me,” he mumbled as his fingers slowly slid along your slit, a low groaning noise escaping the back of his throat when he felt how wet you were. “Fuck, this all for me?”

You nodded again, not trusting yourself to even try and talk right now.

“You’re a fucking tease, baby,” he grumbled as his finger lightly caressed your needy cunt, brushing against your clit with the lightest of touches that made you bite back your own whimpers. He pressed his thumb against your clit, rubbing slow circles until you felt like every nerve in your body was going to explode. “Gonna give you a taste of your own medicine.”

You could have cried when he finally slid one finger inside you but it wasn’t enough, and Lando knew that. He watched in delight as you leaned back against the car seat, eager and desperate eyes glaring into the side of his face as he looked down at your lap, as though he was able to watch the way your walls squeezed around him as he added another finger.

Your body was on fire. Every inch of you felt like you had lava coursing through your veins, your stomach coiling and twisting with desire and your heart pounding in your chest as your boyfriend had his way with you in the back of the Uber. You reached out to grip his wrist, your breathing shaky as you flashed him a warning look.

“I can’t,” you whispered, shaking your head as you turned to glance at the driver, but Lando’s fingers dug into your cheeks as he turned you back to him.

“You can and you will,” he muttered, his eyes darkening in desire as he watched you fight the urge to moan his name. His voice dropped, so low that you barely heard him over the radio. “You said whatever I want, baby. This is what I want. C’mon, make a mess for me.”

Your face was pressed against his shoulder as you came, your teeth digging into his shoulder as he only chuckled in your ear. Your legs were shaking, your body was shaking and your brain could barely string a coherent sentence together, let alone even care at the fact the poor driver just had his backseat vandialised.

You were panting softly as you finally lifted your head, a whimpering noise leaving your lips as Lando pulled his fingers out of you and made a point of sliding them into his own mouth. You watched as he licked and sucked the arousal that soaked his fingers.

The little shit even had the audacity to wink at you when your lips parted slightly at the sight.

He leaned down, pressing a chaste kiss on your lips with a grin. “That’s one, baby.”

You didn’t even get a chance to process what he said before the car pulled outside the hotel. Lando thanked the driver (leaving him a hefty tip on top of the payment) and slid out the car, extending his hand to help you out before he wrapped an arm around your waist to keep you on your feet.

You gripped his shirt in tight fists and the boy’s grin only widened as you headed inside, dipping his head to greet the doorman and any other workers you met along the way to your hotel room.

Your brain still felt a little fuzzy from your orgasm when the hotel room door locked with a click behind you. You felt his hands on your waist, turning your body to face him and you felt your heart stop a little when you saw the smile on his face.

“Have I told you how fucking beautiful you look tonight?” he asked, slow steps guiding you further into the room as he kept his hold on you.

“I don’t think you have, Norris, you’re slacking,” you murmured, letting out a small squeal when he pinched your hip. “There’s still time for you to make up for it.”

He raised his brows. “Is that so?”

You pressed your lips together to hold back your smile.

“Well, as gorgeous as you look,” Lando murmured as he ducked his head down, his eyes never leaving yours. “I can’t wait to take this fucking dress off you. You are wearing far too much for what I wanna do.”

You gulped a little. “And what do you wanna do, Mr Norris?”

“Don’t you worry your pretty little head about it,” he smiled and both of his hands cupped your cheeks before he brought his lips down on yours. “Just need you to sit there and look all pretty for me.”

Lando Norris’ kisses were all-consuming. They were overwhelming and they made your head spin and you didn’t ever want the sensation to stop. He was a good fucking kisser and sometimes that alone could make you feel fuzzy and needy and eager for more.

However, that was far from the case tonight.

Lando’s patience lasted all of five minutes before he stayed true to his word, tugging the zipper on the back of your dress and pulling it off your body, only to throw it somewhere else in the room. He didn’t even give you a chance to unclasp your heels before he was nudging you onto the bed, crawling over you and his lips never once leaving your body.

His shirt was long gone but when you tried to unbutton his trousers, he slapped your hands away and muttered for you to keep them on the bed before he began to kiss lower and lower down your body.

Some nights, Lando could have the patience of a saint. And some nights, he just wanted to nuzzle his head between your thighs and never leave.

“Lando!”

His arms were wound around your thighs to keep you locked in place, one hand cupping your tits whilst laid on your stomach. The noises echoing through the room were debauched and scandalous and he had never heard anything so pretty. The way you moaned his name in between strings of curses, accompanied with the sound of his tongue lapping and licking and sucking your needy cunt like he was a starved man.

He never wanted to leave this moment.

Your thighs squeezed around his ears and he groaned against you, his eyes falling shut as his lips wrapped around your clit. He watched as you arched at the sensation, as you gripped the sheets between your fingers, as you lamely attempted to buck your hips against him only for the hand on your stomach to push you back down.

“Taste so fucking good,” he moaned, his words muffled and mumbled. “This is what I fucking wanted after my race, not some stupid party.”

“Shit,” you cried out, your heels scratching down his back as you felt the coil in your stomach tighten. “Please, please!”

Lando let out a whimper as your fingers tangled between his curls, tugging and pulling as you ground your cunt against his face. His hands squeezed your hips, tight enough that they would probably bruise in the morning but neither of you cared.

He pinned you down to the bed, one hand pushing your leg closer to your chest and the other keeping your leg locked in place as his tongue eagerly lapped your needy cunt. You were soaking, practically gushing down your thighs and onto the bed but Lando didn’t think he had ever seen a prettier sight.

There was a dull pain with each tug of his hair as you came, a dull pain that went straight down to his cock as he watched you squirm and wiggle underneath him as you screamed his name. He couldn’t get enough of you, the taste of you and the way you feel in his hands with your thighs wrapped around him and—

“Please,” you sobbed, your body shaking as you tried to come down from your high, only to feel Lando eagerly still lapping the mess you made between your legs. “Please, baby, I-I need you inside of me.”

And fuck, if there was one thing he loved more than eating you out until your pretty little head couldn’t handle it, it was seeing you beg for his cock.

“Yeah? Need me to fill you up?” he murmured, his warm breath fanning over your inner thighs as he placed sloppy kisses along your skin, up your stomach and chest until your nose was brushing against his. “Need me to fuck you, baby?”

“Please,” you whined, your hands gripping his biceps like you were scared he was going to pull away again. “Please.”

“Don’t need to cry, baby, gonna give my girl what she wants,” he murmured before leaning down to kiss you. “Plus, we are only on two.”

You frowned a little, opening your mouth to ask him what he meant but a sharp slap against your thigh cut you off.

“On all fours, baby, let me see that pretty ass you have been teasing me with all night,” Lando muttered and you didn’t have the heart to tease him anymore, not when you wanted him inside you so desperately.

He was so careful when he first slid inside you, letting out a guttural noise as he felt the walls of your cunt clench around his cock as you took him inch by inch. His hands were constantly on you, squeezing and caressing you as he whispered praised reassurances. He waited until he was completely sheathed inside you, his pelvis pressed against your ass and his cock so deep inside you, you could have sworn you felt him in your stomach.

He waited until you were nice and stretched out and ready for him.

And then, it was like a flip had switched inside the boy’s head.

The sound of skin slapping against skin bounced off the walls of the room, the noises leaving your lips were borderline pornographic and Lando wished he could remember every single detail of this night for the rest of his life.

His hands gripped your hips, guiding your hips back into him to match his hard, fast-paced thrusts. His eyes were glued on the way your cunt greedily took his cock, the way he disappeared with each thrust, only to pull out covered in more of your arousal. He wanted the image burned into the back of his eyelids.

“Atta girl,” Lando groaned, the quick slap against your ass followed by the needy whine you let out making his head spin. “Taking my cock so well, like you were fucking made for me.”

“Shit, please,” you moaned, your head fuzzy and your body tired and all you could think about was Lando hitting that spot again and again and again and again. “Lando, please!”

“So fucking desperate,” he laughed, bordering the line of mocking and it shouldn’t have made you clench around his cock, but it did. And it only encouraged him further. “That’s right, all fucking dumb for my cock, right, baby? Just mine.”

You were too far lost in the pleasure when you came for a third time that night, your arms losing the strength to hold your body up any longer. Your cheek was pressed against the cool sheets, your fingers gripping the fabric as pleasure washed over you like crashing waves. You whined, feeling the bulge of him deep inside you as he thrusted again and again, and you waited for him to spill inside you.

But he didn’t.

He kept fucking you.

“L-Lando,” you choked out, your body jerking with each of his thrusts as you pressed your face against the sheets. Your lips parted, a pathetic noise leaving your lips and tears welled along your lash line. “Too much, please, I-I can’t—”

“You can, baby,” he groaned out, his hand reaching out to take one of yours in his. “One more f’me, pretty girl, need to feel you come on my cock one more time.”

“Lando–”

“Please, baby,” he moaned, his head falling back as your walls clenched around him.

This time when you came, he followed right behind you. Neither one of you spoke, your bodies covered in a layer of sweat and your chests panting to try and catch your breath. Lando squeezed your hips, leaning down to press an affectionate kiss to your ass cheek before he slowly slid out, watching the mess you both created.

You whined, your body slumping against the mattress and Lando couldn’t help but giggle as he crawled back up the bed, taking your body in his arms as you became a lump of tangled limbs.

“That’s three and four,” he murmured against your temple and you lifted your head as realisation finally dawned on you.

“You wanted me to come four times,” you commented and he only grinned in response.

“It is my number after all,” he said like it was obvious. “And you’re my girl. It makes sense.”

You snorted. “You’re an idiot.”

“Yeah, but I’m yours,” Lando murmured, watching as your eyes fell shut as you leaned your head against his chest. He lightly shook you. “Hey, pretty girl, need you to stay awake so we can take a shower.”

“We can have one in the morning,” you said, your words muffled as you nuzzled your face further into his chest.

“Yeah, right,” Lando snorted before patting your ass. “C’mon, I’ll wash your hair. And we need to take your makeup off, baby, I wanna see my gremlin.”

“You are so doting,” you deadpanned.

“I just don’t wanna deal with a grumpy girlfriend in the morning—ouch!” Lando hissed, glaring down at you. “Geez, tough crowd, I was joking.”

You lifted your head, flashing him a lazy smile. “Carry me?”

He playfully rolled his eyes. “You’re lucky I love you.”

“I love you too, my podium boy,” you murmured teasingly, leaning up to kiss him and Lando didn’t have it within him to not smile into the kiss.

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yourdoorisunlocked · 3 months

Text

What A Dish, What A Doll! - Part 3

𝐀/𝐍: Yup, we're getting into it now. Remember that this man is literally a cannibalistic serial killer who convenes with dark spirits and shit.

But I think that just makes him more attractive tbh.

Btw this man is like 6'1 in this story in his human form, so do with that information as you wish. ;)

. . .

𝐖𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐂𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭: 𝟑,𝟕𝟔𝟖 𝐓𝐖/𝐂𝐖: Descriptive gore, sacrificial rituals, just Alastor-coded shenanigans and levels of down horrendous I'm embarrassed to share... 😭👍 𝐒𝐨𝐧𝐠 𝐑𝐞𝐜𝐨𝐦𝐦𝐞𝐧𝐝𝐚𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧: - ᴛʜᴇ ꜰʀᴜɪᴛꜱ | ᴘᴀʀɪꜱ ᴘᴀʟᴏᴍᴀ - ꜱʟᴏᴡᴇᴅ

. . .

There was always a moment when Alastor had to take a small smoke before finishing off his prey, allowing the adrenaline of the hunt to wear off as he reveled in his latest kill.

A gentle evening wind brushed against his ears, ruffling his cocoa-brown hair as he smiled up at the full moon with teeth as white as its luminous surface. Translucent curtains of gloom drifted past the celestial orb of night, just as the scent of a marshy swampland drifted up and enveloped Alastor in its nostalgic, wistful aroma of home.

Though he relished the private, intimate moments he spent with you, times like these, where his mind could simply slip away from the drag of life and reflect upon the day, were as precious and rare as gold.

Alastor simpered to himself as he fixated upon you being the star-struck little darling you were, mad with elation to finally be able to watch him host his radio show in the studio you both worked at. And he imagined you’d needed such a treat, after your delightful breakfast at that restaurant you’d wanted to try out for so long.

It was too bad. Alastor quite liked that cozy little diner. Oh, well.

Perhaps you could work there yourself, now that a fresh, new spot for a job had opened up at the restaurant, perfect for a lovely little doll like you. You wouldn’t have to deal with your rather overbearing supervisor anymore, who gave Alastor much more leeway than you.

Ha! Who was he kidding? Like he’d ever let you take so much as six steps away from him, from the safety he could provide.

He couldn't have you running around willy-nilly, gaining the attention of unworthy scumbags, after all!

Then again, Alastor didn’t mind the image of you rushing around, serving him ever so politely in one of those form-flattering, tight waitress uniforms that had swept New Orleans recently.

But that was an experience for him, and him alone. Besides, the reverie of having you as a pretty little assistant would do just fine, for now. Perhaps he could bring that idea to fruition, someday.

Oh, one can only dream!

With a last puff of smoke that condensed in the chilly night air, Alastor disposed of the cigarette and ground it into the dirt path with his heel. Maybe he could use an assistant around the studio; being the most charming, captivating voice in all of Louisiana wasn’t easy, after all!

Plus, it meant more alone time with you, and your dazzling, melodic voice, and that divine smile that he could only wish to be blessed with. He drank it all up, your enthusiasm to be in his presence, your witty yet flustered company...

God, he could just eat you up–

Muffled groans and wails broke him from his peaceful midnight musing, and he turned his attention towards the small shack he used. Normally, he’d relish in such helplessness from his latest kill, though his patience was wearing thin, tonight.

But Alastor needed this one to be alive. The Loa didn’t favor cold, dead prey.

Then again, it never complained of the condition its scraps were in. Only that Alastor could provide any.

“Why, hello there!” The radio host’s air of exuberant showmanship rolled off him in waves as he stood above the crumpled form of the waiter who had insulted Alastor’s very being with his rotten presence.

A throbbing pain at the front of his head where he had been knocked out with a bat ached painfully, and he cradled his wound with an anguished groan.

“Ouch! That’s got to hurt, ha-ha!” Polished western-style shoes thumped against the wooden floor of the shack as Alastor made his way over to his victim, before bashing his head against the floor, reveling in his pained groan before he slumped in Alastor’s grip.

“Hm, a bit meatier than I had expected... He’ll have quite a feast, tonight!” A dark chuckle, laced with venom and coated with mirth filled the small room, and Alastor hoisted the body over his head and dragged the unconscious prey out into the forest.

Darkness enveloped the waiter’s mind, like a weighted blanket upon his consciousness as the pain worsened, before fading as his body gave out.

. . .

The sound of shoveling and short, exhausted huffing awakened him as he slowly came to, and the wintry night air brought him from slumber like the bony, thinned hands of Death itself.

Shadows danced around his vision as his eyes fluttered open, and the light of Alastor’s lantern roused him fully awake. The quiet croaking of frogs, and the midnight lullaby of chirping crickets filled the otherwise eerie silence. A large, wilting tree hung over him, where moss and fungus sprouted from each branch as its hanging leaves reached down to him and the scent of dampened swampland baffled his senses.

W-Where... Where the hell am I...?

Alastor watched with an amused smile as the pitiful lad tried to raise a hand to hoist himself up from the dirt, only to struggle for a few moments against his cursed restraints that bound him to the forest floor.

Slim-fit gloves tightened against the handle of his shovel as Alastor leaned against it with a condescending grin, moonlight bouncing off his glasses as he looked down at the pitiful prey.

“Oh, please don’t struggle too much. I did go to all that trouble of tying you up, after all,” Alastor cooed from his standing position above his victim, like he could possibly escape from the rune-encrusted stakes he had been bound to.

“Now, be polite...

And say hello to my old friend, for me.”

A gust of wind howled around the pair, bringing Alastor’s attention towards the crooked trees standing tall against the swamp. The bushes rustled softly beneath its branches, when suddenly, a buck jumped out from behind the bramble, kicking at the dirt and eyeing Alastor’s little summoning circle with curiosity.

It was a shame he hadn’t brought his hunting gun; those magnificent antlers would’ve been a dazzling addition to his collection.

Also, the idea of impressing you with such a display had Alastor catching himself drifting off into his fantasies yet again. He really needed to stop doing that. You were turning the demented radio host into a moony-eyed sap, and in the middle of a sacrifice, no less!

The deer slowly trotted towards Alastor with its head tilted in confusion as it eyed him, regarding the man with caution.

Slowly, the radio host lowered himself into a respectful bow, and the buck reciprocated. It strayed a little closer, and a step too far proved to be its undoing.

Crack.

The busboy jolted with each snap of bone within the animal's body, the grotesque sounds echoing across the forest. The deer grew suddenly limp and collapsed upon the forest floor as the waiter’s eyes bulged out of his head.

“W-What...? What the fuck is that!?” Alastor ignored his victim’s struggle behind him as he kicked at the chilled, marshy dirt with his bare, scabbed feet, hoping to create some distance between himself and the massive, horned beast that was forming rapidly.

A futile effort, really...

An animalistic screech of anguish would be the last sound that the deer ever made, as it finally fell completely under the control of whatever unholy beat had been foolishly summoned into existence. Shadows flooded the inside of the poor animal, hollowing it out at a rapid rate, and the unseen horror took its puppet upon a sleeve to speak to the mortal who summoned it.

Whether it was utterly foolish or terribly sadistic was a true mystery. A gamble that made these little summonses the least bit entertaining, particularly if it was the latter.

The sound of groaning wood echoed across the forest as two large, crooked antlers bent towards the sky. The creature’s hanging ribcage protruded from the gaping hole in its stomach, revealing bloody, mossy innards riddled with mold and buzzing flies that gluttonously fed upon the mangled buck's entrails.

An ominous emerald glow shimmered within the buck’s maw, and two stark-black eyes fell into its open mouth, before sliding down its tongue

The deer's organs were promptly squeezed out of the corpse's slit belly and dropped onto the ground as the carcass thinned dramatically. A puddle of thick, glistening liquid that was much too dark to be considered regular animal blood had gathered beneath it.

Drip. Drip. Drip.

Squelch.

Tarred, ashen-gray skin glimmered underneath the moonlight, as a guttural roar shook the forest, leaving the branches trembling with terror. Alastor stood before the beast with his hands crossed behind his back with an unbothered, almost bored expression.

As the Loa stood before him in its complete, beastly form, Alastor brushed off an imaginary speck of dirt from his coat sleeve before opening his arms up to his old friend with a wide grin that nearly split his face in half. It had been a while since he’d borne witness to a proper summoning.

“Quite a good show, my friend! Captivating as always,” Alastor called out cheerfully, clapping once or twice in emphasis.

“Ɱվ ƒօɾʍ էąҟҽʂ էհҽ ìժҽղէìէվ օƒ ҽąçհ ʂօմӀ էհąէ çąӀӀʂ էօ ʍҽ, འօէէҽժ ටղҽ,” the Loa's voice answered his old friend in a deep, gravely rasp from the mutilated buck's unhinged jaw. It stood proudly on its hind legs as it hunched over Alastor with a low rumble, and the stench of rotting flesh overpowered the natural, swampy scent of the forest, to the radio host’s distaste.

“Then I do hope my soul has been quite the treat to replicate!” he clasped his hands together behind his back, folding his arms tightly behind him.

“చհվ հąʂէ էհօմ çąӀӀҽժ ʍҽ հҽɾҽ, մքօղ էհìʂ ղìցհէ?” Its impatience wore thin as it looked upon the setting of the candlelit circle, and the pleasant aroma of fresh blood brought the Loa’s attention to the young man tied up behind Alastor.

“Why, of course! How impolite of me to keep you waiting,” the excited glint in the radio host’s eye evolved into a look of complete madness as he gestured to the poor sap behind him, who gaped up at the Loa’s ghastly form in horror.

“Presenting the main course for tonight, this pitiful little insect that I had the unfortunate displeasure of stumbling upon! Though it seems this chap appears to be faring far worse than I!” A cynical chuckle dripped from his thin-lipped grin as he bowed before the Loa like a true showman.

Alastor hadn’t even noticed he had been rambling like a supervillain, monologuing about his latest victim as if it were a typical evening hosting his radio show.

“įէ ʂҽҽʍʂ էհօմ հąէհ.. φҽɾʂօղąӀ հìʂէօɾվ աìէհ էհìʂ օղҽ,” the Loa rumbled thoughtfully, now circling the panicking prey as he thrashed in his roped constraints.

“Ah, just a little disagreement, is all. Apparently, manners are no longer an important matter of discussion within one’s own household,” Alastor ‘tsked’, shaking his head in mock disappointment, “A shame, truly.”

“įէ ʂʍҽӀӀʂ ƒɾҽʂհ,” the horned creature inhaled deeply, stinking putridly of decay as he bent over the trembling busboy, its skeletal back cracking and snapping as he further hunched over. Its victim blubbered pathetically, shaking his head as hopeless tears spilt from his eyes while he choked out helpless pleads.

“Ꝉìҟҽ… Ͳҽɾɾօɾ…”

In a flurry of shadows, the Loa pounced upon its feast, rumbling with fervor and gluttony as its fangs tore through flesh, ripping its prey apart as it aimed for the meatiest bits of its meal.

The agonized moans of the damned that protruded from the Loa's maw conducted the symphony of terror, and the screams of the disrespectful runt carried the harmony as Alastor stood off to the side, relishing the gory display.

When the Loa had finished, a long, blackened tongue licked its chops as it rumbled in satisfaction. It turned towards Alastor, who bowed before it, as was a respectful custom whenever the God finished its meal.

"Ͳհìʂ աąʂ զմìէҽ ʂąէìʂƒąçէօɾվ. చհąէ çąӀӀʂ մքօղ էհվ ʂքօղէąղҽօմʂ օƒƒҽɾìղց, էօղìցհէ, ȺӀąʂէօɾ…?"

"Oh, I was just taking out some trash. Honestly, you're doing me quite a favor, old friend! Think of it as a celebration for our friendship," Alastor grinned impudently, before bidding the Loa a silent farewell as he turned on his heel.

"Now, I'm afraid that our time together must be cut short. I have a little darling to check up upon, and she is quite the feisty one, I'll have you know!" Oh, how perfectly this night had ended. Ridding himself, and you the trouble of ever dealing with such a pest ever again, and cuddling up to you while discussing your day over dinner, and ending it with a-

"చհօ ìʂ ʂհҽ?"

Alastor stopped in his tracks, his smile beginning to strain and actually make his cheeks ache as he half-turned back to the Loa. Fuck.

It seems that his utter enthusiasm for running his mouth about you has overridden his reasoning.

"Whatever do you mean, my friend? Don't tell me you've taken a liking to my darling?" He pointed a teasing finger at it with a wide, knowing smirk that bordered upon a warning.

The god eyed Alastor with pure contempt, before huffing impatiently and nodding towards Alastor's house in the distance.

"Ƕҽɾ. Ͳհҽ βɾìցհէ ටղҽ. చհҽղ հąʂէ էհօմ ƒąӀӀҽղ ƒօɾ ʂմçհ ƒɾìѵօӀìէìҽʂ?"

Alastor stubbornly clasped his hands together behind his back and stood tall as the ancient god bent down towards his level, empty sockets glowing an emerald green and practically blinding him as it asked again.

"į աìʂհ էօ ҟղօա օƒ էհìʂ… ժìʂէɾąçէìօղ էհąէ հąʂէ էհҽҽ ìղ ą ҍìղժ ʂմçհ ąʂ էհìʂ," for the first time in thousands of years, the god's interest had been caught. Quite a peculiarity, considering that the Loa did not care for petty mortal matters that Alastor would rarely partake in himself, but the mention of a girl brought slight surprise to it.

And judging by the glimpses the ancient being took within Alastor's mind, he could understand why the radio host had taken such a liking to you.

Like the sway of wind, by the bloom of daffodils, you were akin to a wicked, unruly summer wind sweeping up sea salt and touching the hearts of those you met, everywhere you went.

A rare commodity, in a corrupt world such as this.

"Oh, well I suppose I must've slipped the word about her. Well!" Alastor placed his fingertips together as the memory of first meeting you surfaced in his mind.

"I'd be happy to tell you how we met! It all began when I came across the darling little Doll in a charming diner. I'll tell you; the place couldn't have shined as much as it had without her presence, ha-ha!"

The eldritch horror noted the complete adoration that swept the normally deranged man off his feet. Alastor’s animated announcer's voice and occasional jazz hands did all the talking for him as he spoke of you.

The spirit never thought it'd see the day...

"She was certainly efficient at her job, as well! Carried the entire restaurant on her back, in my humble opinion," of course, Alastor was completely biased in his reasoning. He'd take any excuse to sing your praises all night.

"Why, she even gave me a shock when she rolled into the building with a pair of skates, one Thursday afternoon! Quite the compliment to that stunning dress pattern, I must say..."

How curious, that the boy the Loa had met all those years ago, the one who seemed to have no such interest in pursuing relationships, who outwardly expressed disgust at the mere thought of being touched found someone like you to keep him company.

"So, I decided to give the Doe a chance at my radio station, and we immediately hit it off!" The radio host's smile nearly cracked his face in half as he fondly recalled his first meeting with you, and the spirit tilted its head to the side.

How strange, indeed...

Well, now it just had to meet the girl who had captivated Alastor so and sprung upon this new sacrifice earlier than what was expected of him.

Then, the Loa nodded towards the direction of Alastor's house in the twilight, softly hitting its hoof against the ground with an insistent thud.

"į աìʂհ էօ ʍҽҽէ հҽɾ. į աąղէ էօ ҟղօա ահąէ ҟìղժ օƒ ʂօմӀ հąʂ çąքէìѵąէҽժ էհҽҽ ʂօ."

Alastor slowly turned towards the beast, whose antlers seemed to grow even larger in return, sensing the human's challenge.

"And what makes you believe that you have a right to meddle in my life, if it does not offend you to ask? Her soul is not yours, and her heart shall soon lie with me."

The Loa huffed, before bowing its head towards the maddened, lovesick mortal. How foolish, the way such silly human matters have clouded the ever-articulate mind of one of his oldest acquaintances.

Honestly, what did Alastor think it was going to do? Snatch you away from him?

Like it'd ever get the chance.

"βմէ ìէ ժօҽʂղ'է. ហօէ աìէհìղ çմɾɾҽղէ çìɾçմʍʂէąղçҽʂ. į çօմӀժ ƒì× էհąէ, հօաҽѵҽɾ," The Loa rumbled, knowing it was pricking at a soft spot as the young man shot him an unamused glare with a raised eyebrow.

"į ʂհąӀӀ ҍҽ ժìʂçɾҽҽէ, օƒ çօմɾʂҽ. Ⱥ ʍҽɾҽ ìղէҽɾƒҽɾҽղçҽ ƒɾօʍ ąƒąɾ." Alastor scoffed and fully turned to the Loa with a sneer darkening his too-wide smile, his teeth seeming sharpened in the glint of the moonlight.

To the Loa, Alastor appeared merely to be a puppy baring its pint-sized fangs.

"Ha-ha! You seem to misunderstand me, my friend," he stepped boldly towards the beast, his hands folded behind his back with half-lidded eyes that dared it to cross the very clear line he had drawn.

"I believe you have crossed a bit of a line, there, implying that I do not own her heart," the radio host sneered; a threatening grimace hidden behind a thin mask portraying a cheeky, unbothered smile. But the underlying threat was clear. You were not to be touched.

Honestly, Alastor reminded the Loa of another, more ethereal being it had met long ago. Madly in love and willing to do anything, preform any atrocity, to protect his fleeting fancy. Looking back, he was rather short for someone of his status, and impossibly pale, having a sort of 'heavenly' hue to it.

How ironic.

The Loa looked upon the human with slight amusement dancing within its soulless, ominously glowing sockets. The mortal held such determination, such drive to keep you solely within his hold, a kind of devotion it hadn’t seen in centuries.

Such a pitiful display of favor for his new toy had the Loa truly interested, now. It was sure that Alastor would do anything to keep you, anything to win your affections.

Of course, good things came to those who waited. And so, with a soft nod, the Loa dropped the subject.

“Ⱥʂ էհօմ աìʂհҽʂ. Ͳհօմցհ, ʍìղҽ օƒƒҽɾ ʂհąӀӀ ʂէìӀӀ ʂէąղժ."

“Duly noted.” And with that, Alastor’s clipped tone snapped through the air, cutting off the conversation entirely. The distant hum of insects whispered against his ears as he waited for the Loa’s dismissal.

"ƑąɾҽաҽӀӀ, འօէէҽժ ටղҽ. į հąѵҽ ҍմʂìղҽʂʂ ҽӀʂҽահҽɾҽ.” Finally, the Loa turned away from the mortal, its shadows dropping the corpse of the deer and vanishing from the scene. Alastor paid no mind to it, however, as there typically wouldn’t be any human nor animal remains, come sunrise.

The god fed gluttonously, after all.

Alastor swiftly turned on his heel and started back upon the path. “Adieu, my good friend! I do hope we’ll see each other again,” as he strode further away from the ghastly terror, all mirth had evaporated from his voice, leaving a biting cold edging at his words and rivaling the winter chill as he neared the house.

But every step closer to you thawed his heart as he strolled through the bramble, choosing to shove away the thoughts that mulled over the Loa's offer. That would be something for 'Tomorrow Alastor' to deal with.

It wasn't long before he had finally made it back to the house, confidently striding across the forest as if nothing had ever happened, and Alastor slipped through the front door, brief as the wind and quiet as a shadow.

He was quite disappointed to see you had left for a bed, and his heart panged with guilt at the thought of you solemnly retreating to your quarters when you realized Alastor was probably working late tonight.

It was far from the truth, but it'd suffice as a good cover.

I'll make it up to her tomorrow.

Carefully, Alastor crept up the stairs, avoiding each loose board and step that would creak under the pressure of his weight.

Then, after seeming to have climbed a mountain simply to get upstairs, he slowly opened the door to your room, his hands clenching the doorknob to the point where it'd snap in half from his vice grip.

Alastor took steady, silent steps over to your bedframe, standing over your soundly sleeping form with a lovesick simper.

Since when had he grown so infatuated with little ol' you? Was it when you ran up to him with stars in your eyes and that beautiful, kissable smile plastered on your face after you listened to his podcast from start to finish? When you raved about how amazing it was, how captivating he sounded?

Moonlight was cast over your form, painting a pale, sleek canvas of stardust over your skin as Alastor drank in the sight with trembling fervor.

Leaning over, he took a hand and carefully twirled a lock of your hair around a slender finger as he stared down at you adoringly.

"Darling... what are you doing to me~?"

As Alastor bent down to nuzzle your loose hair, your scent hit him almost instantly, and he groaned softly as the room became so hot, so unbearably tight as he became ever aware of the throbbing bulge tightened against the confines of his trousers.

With a heavy, forlorn heart, and an aching erection he'd soon have to tend to, he pulled away from your slumbering form, and brushed a stray lock out of your face.

A warmth crept up to his cheeks as you leaned towards his familiar touch, smiling softly at the mere touch of contact as you mumbled incoherently in your sleep.

"Mmmph... Alastor..."

With a tender, close-lipped simper, Alastor placed a chaste, tender peck to your forehead.

"Sweet dreams, my Doe~."

. . .

𝐄𝐧𝐝 𝐍𝐨𝐭𝐞𝐬: So, I lowkey lied, saying it was gonna be a shorter chapter...

AND THIS ONE ENDED UP BEING EVEN LONGER LMAO 💀💀

I'm sorry, making these longer ones are so much fun, and I can't for the life of me shorten any paragraph or story I'm working on. Even the end notes are an essay long lmao.

Anyway, thanks for reading, as always (～￣▽￣)～

#alastor x reader #hazbin hotel x reader #hazbin hotel #alastor the radio demon #yandere alastor x reader #possessive behavior #he's just sacrificing innocent people no biggie #obsessive love #and lowkey watching you while you sleep #but he's a silly 6'1 dapper lil deer man and i love him #banner by cafekitsune #dividers by cafekitsune #yourdoorisunlocked

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sentientcave · 1 month

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Fuck-ass Mohawk

Contains: Alcohol, smoking (cigarettes and cannabis), Soap being Soap, Ghost being Ghost, uninvited touching, tall fem reader

Short little thing about Johnny liking it a bit when you're a bitch to him (And Ghost likes it too)

868 Words ~ MDNI

You’d rather stay home and play board games, but Laurie had convinced everyone that it was a good night for clubbing. You hated clubs— The noise, the crowds, the smell of sweat and alcohol and hormones— and spent the better part of club nights standing outside chain-smoking, or crammed into a dirty bathroom stall holding back a friend’s hair as she threw up blue curacao because she didn’t listen to you when you told her to eat dinner before going out. Tonight didn’t look like it was going to end up with anyone puking their guts up, at least. Laurie’s flirting with a gorgeous hunk with a devastating smile, and Alex and Hannah are dancing, so you go out the side door into the alley for some fresh air. Or air, anyway, since the alley’s where folks go to smoke. You light a joint, because at least that will dull the effect that the sound is having on your head. It’s getting close to midnight, which at least means the night is almost over, so long as someone doesn’t drag you along to some weirdo’s house. “Hey, wha’s a bonnie thing like ye doin’ out here all alone?” A voice purrs in your ear. You jump, surprised that he could get so close with out you noticing him, especially once you turn and really look at him. He’s huge, not that tall, probably your height when you’re not wearing boots (You have about an inch and a half on him in your shit-kickers), but broad and way more muscled than anyone has any reason to be, wrapped in a too-tight shirt, and smiling at you, bright blue eyes fixed on yours with unnerving intensity. He pats your shoulder. “Didnae mean to scare ye, lass, just wanted to say hello.” You take a big step to the side, establishing a new bubble of personal space without him in it. “Well, hello,” you say dismissively. “Goodbye.” There’s a snort from a few meters away, a big fellow with a kn95 mask dangling on one ear, his hand up in front of his face, a cigarette clamped between his fingers. “Och, dinnae be like tha’, hen.” “Don’t like it?” you ask, glaring at him. “Go away. Plenty of girls in there’ll go for whatever all this is.” A sweeping, unimpressed glance from his boots and ripped jeans up to his stupid mohawk would usually do the trick, but it only made this fellow smile wider. “No’ enough fer ya? I can sweeten tha deal some. The big fella doesnae mind sharin’ a sweet lass with me noo and again. There’s plenty of ye ta go around.” “Johnny,” the big fellow in question says sternly. His mask is back in place, covering the lower half of his face. “Dun’t look like she’s interested.”

“Tha’s where you’re wrong, LT. She just doesna want to admit it. Hen’s got pride. Wants to make me work for it, right lass?” He winks at you. “No. Don’t like your fuck-ass mohawk.” You puff on your joint, keeping your face still while he splutters, indignant. “Fuck-ass mohawk?” he asks. “What do ye mean by tha’?” “I mean it looks like you have a contentious relationship with your father,” you say. Maybe you’re being a bit mean, but it’s always fun to take a cocky fucker down a peg or two. “I don’t fuck with men with daddy issues. Most of ‘em are cops or military lads.” The big guy— LT?— laughs aloud at that while Johnny’s still looking at you with his mouth hanging open. The side door opens, and your friends pile out, Laurie arm in arm with her hunk, and Hannah and Alex clinging to handsome fellows of their own. “There you are,” Laurie says. “We’re going back to Hannah’s. Are you coming?” “Uh. I guess.” Laurie beams at you, and looks up at her hunk. “Kyle, do you need to find your friends?” “Nah. These lads right here.” He gestures at Johnny and LT. with a grin. “Knew Ghost would be out here, and Soap’s always followin’ him around like the big puppy he is.” “Ah’m no’!” You fall into step at the rear of the group. You’ll probably head home rather than join them, but Hannah’s flat is on the way to your own. Johnny and his handler flank you, matching your stride when you slow down or speed up. Annoying. “So what, is the big guy your replacement daddy?” you ask. “Wha— No!” Johnny says hotly. “He’s just my lieutenant.” “Could be your daddy, if you like,” Ghost says, putting a heavy hand on the back of your neck. “Got a thing for caustic little cunts.” “Oh fuck off,” you say, trying to shove his hand off. His grip squeezes a little tighter, and you try to ignore the way that core clenches around nothing. You channel the heat into anger, and dig your nails into his wrist hard. “Don’t fucking touch me.” He grunts, but doesn’t seem all that affected by your claws. “Look at you, ‘issin’ and spittin’ like a puffed up alley cat. S’cute. But save it for later, eh? Don’t want you to tire yourself out too early.”

#cave writing #Ghoap x reader #x reader #MW fic #just a short thing but I'm not sure I'll get around to writing more so I'm posting as is #Maybe someday I will write the second half of this where reader gets sandwiched between two hot military men and has a really good time #But yanno how it is

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from-the-clouds · 11 months

Text

texas sun - joel miller x f!reader - vol. xiv

series masterlist | series playlist | writing masterlist | previous chapter | chapter summary: The final chapter pairing: joel miller x f!reader words: 9.2k (I love being insane) chapter warnings: SMUT (18+only) - unprotected sex. Insecurity/Jealousy. Angst/arguments. Discussions of death, blood and injuries. Alcohol & Marijuana use. Fluff. Bisexual reader (happy pride ya'll!). As always please dm for more specifics. a/n: This could probs use another round of proofreading but it would've delayed this even longer sooooo.... Here we go! I feel pretty emo right now and I might make a more in-depth post about my thoughts at a later date bc I just finished writing this in a hot daze so I can't put all my thoughts coherently together. But I just wanna say thank you to everyone who supported and gave love to this story. This is by far the most popular fic I've ever written, and I don't really know how? Or what I did to deserve all the love but I just want you to know how much I appreciate it. Thank you for sticking with me through all the angst and delayed updates and everything. I'll never forget you and I'll never forget Joel x Reader!! Thank you so much, I hope the finale lives up to your expectations! ❤️

**I DO NOT HAVE A TAGLIST. Please follow @ftcwriting and turn on notifs if you would like to be notified when I update my works :) **

I’m not the kind of man who tends to socialize I seem to lean on old familiar ways….

-May 16, 2024-

“Are you sure you’re okay if I leave you here alone?”

Ethan’s voice jolts you out of a daze, and you blink your eyes open, realizing that you’d dozed off while sitting upright in a patio chair, the cheesy romance novel you’d been reading still lying open on your lap. Turning to look over your shoulder, you find him standing with one foot on the deck, and one foot still inside, cut in half by the sliding glass door.

Clearing your throat, you straighten up and nod. “Of course. I’ll be fine.”

Ethan studies you carefully, like he’s not entirely convinced. He’s been hesitant to leave you alone unless it’s absolutely necessary – only stepping away from the house to go on patrol shifts and to bring home meals from the mess hall. Recovery has made you feel like a burden to him – to all your friends in the community, really. Everyone….well, almost everyone, has been supportive, but you’ve never been comfortable being openly vulnerable.

Unfortunately, it’s too hard to deny the pain that you’ve been in since the accident, the trouble you have getting around, the exhaustion that clings no matter how many long naps and twelve-hour nights of sleep you get. According to the doctors, being so tired is just part of recovery – rest is important, but the concoction of pain medication you’ve been prescribed only makes your drowsiness and confusion worse. It had been a big deal that tonight you’d mustered the energy to drag yourself outside to sit in the fresh air.

“I’m fine,” you assure Ethan, once again. “Have fun on your date.”

“It’s not really a date,” he says, almost a little too quickly. “We’re just hanging out.”

“Right,” you say, matter-of-factly. “Do I know who this person is?”

Ethan looks at his feet. “You remember the day this shit happened?” he asks, gesturing towards you. “Before you left on patrol, the girl that said hi to me? It’s her. Her name is Alex.”

“Oh?” you tilt your head, give him a small smile. “She was cute. How’d you ask her out?”

“Well,” he begins, scratching the back of his neck. “I may have…uh, gotten some advice.”

“You didn’t think to ask me?” you’re able to muster up a small smile.

“I would’ve, I just…..” he shakes his head. “It seemed stupid…with everything you have going on.”

“It’s not stupid,” you say, feeling a wave of guilt. Even though he’s the one looking after you, you haven’t spoken to him much about anything going on in his life. In fact, you haven’t really spoken to anyone in a long time, beyond thank you’s and blanket statements like I’m doing better. You feel disconnected, and more lonely than ever. If you ever get enough energy to leave your house, you expect most of the people in the community to have forgotten you exist. “Who’d you ask?”

“Uhm….” Ethan runs a hand through his long dark hair, shifts his weight. “….I’ve been assigned on patrol with Joel Miller a lot lately….so….”

You almost laugh when he uses Joel’s full name. Joel has been such a huge part of your life – sometimes the hero, sometimes the villain – that you don’t need to hear his last name to know who Ethan’s talking about. You could know a thousand Joel’s, and he’d still be the first person that came to mind. But Joel is still a sore subject, and Ethan knows it, which is why you suspect he’s avoided telling you this in the first place. You feel your eyebrows knit together, only able to let out an unenthused. “Oh.”

“I just, you know….he’s a guy. And it sounds like you even liked him at one point so….he must know something, right?”

“That was a long time ago,” you say quickly, regardless of the fact that he’s right.

It’s probably not fair to blame Joel for everything that has happened to you. You know this, deep down. But you’ve been so helpless and isolated since you’ve woken up in that hospital bed that you’re desperate to find someone to hold accountable. And Joel hadn’t visited you in the hospital once. By this point, he’s abandoned you so many times that your resentment feels justified, even if your current state is not directly his fault. Because it was you, after all, who had walked into the path of those men, too angry to think clearly, too weak to take them down alone. The only person you can blame is yourself, and you really don’t want to.

“Did he tell you to take her out on patrol, make her cry, and almost get her killed?”

Ethan clicks his tongue, looks down, almost ashamed. “No. He did not.”

“You should be careful with Joel,” you warn.

“I was…” Ethan says. “But I don’t think it’s that simple. I think he’s actually alright.”

“So you’re friends with him now,” you state, hoping he refutes. But instead, he looks up at you, frowns, and lifts his chin.

“What happened to you was horrible. It shouldn’t have happened. And yeah, maybe you think he’s the reason you almost died…. I don’t know the specifics so you can believe whatever you want. But I know that he’s the reason you’re still alive.” Ethan’s voice breaks, and you feel tears brimming your eyes before he continues. “He brought you back here, he donated his blood, he-”

“What?” you cut him off.

“What do you mean, what?” Ethan asks. “He was the only person there who had your blood type. You would’ve died if he didn’t. They didn’t tell you this?”

“Whatever it took to make him feel less guilty, sounds like,” you say, dismissively.

Something hot burns in your veins, something that must have always been there since you woke up, but you’re only feeling it now. It’s unsettling, Joel being a part of you that way. Your lives had already seemed intertwined enough already. But now, he’s inescapable.

“Well, he stayed by your side every night while you were asleep. Fuck, I mean, he was probably there just as often as I was. He made sure I ate, and slept and showered and… and he never once asked for anything in return. He cares about you as much as I do, clearly, so I don’t think it’s wrong to think he’s a good guy….”

You must not care about me that much, you want to say, but you stop yourself. Because it’s not true, and you’d only be saying it to hurt him. You have nothing to defend yourself with, no way to convince him otherwise, and so you just stare at him until he shakes his head and slips back inside.

Ethan is stubborn, he always has been. And it’s a special kind of stubbornness, fueled by anger – so common in most of the young people you meet these days. You understand why they’re all like this. When you’re robbed of your childhood – you get stuck there….waiting….. Like someday you’ll have a chance to do it all over again, regardless of how obvious it is that you won’t.

─── ･｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

-May 25, 2024-

Things get better, albeit slowly. You begin to wean off the pain medication, which makes you more alert. It’s still difficult to leave your house, but you can move around it more easily, and you don’t spend all your days sleeping. Luckily, you aren’t as stir-crazy as you’d been expecting.

One afternoon, Ellie Williams shows up on your doorstep with a bag full of groceries.

“Maria wanted me to bring these to you,” she says when you open the door. “She told me to tell you she’ll be over tomorrow, but she wanted me to give you these to tide you over.”

“That’s very nice. Thank you for bringing them to me,” you try to take the bag from her hands, but she steps back just a little, like she’s unsure if you should be carrying anything. You let your hands drop to your sides. “Would you like to come in?”

Ellie hesitates for a split second, adjusting the bag in her arms, and then nods. “Sure.”

Stepping to the side, you allow her into the home. Because of how warm it is outside, you’ve opened all the windows to let the breeze through.

“Sorry for the mess,” you say, Ellie following you into the living room. There are stacks of books and pill bottles with instructions scattered on your countertop. You haven’t swept the floors in awhile and all the hard surfaces are covered in a thin layer of dust. It’s not really that bad, but you don’t have the energy or strength to be on your feet for long – let alone to clean the house.

“I don’t mind,” Ellie says. “It’s not even that bad. I don’t know why older people worry about leaving your house messy and shit….no offense.”

“There was a time it used to matter,” you tell her. “And I see where you’re coming from, but my thing is – if you’re going to live somewhere, you should do what you can to make yourself feel comfortable.”

Ellie purses her lips, as if you’ve made a good point but she doesn’t know how to answer. Instead, you continue. “Can I get you anything? Water?”

“No, I’m okay,” she puts the bag on your kitchen counter.

“You can sit if you’d like,” you tell her. “I just need a moment to put these away.”

When you walk into your living room a few minutes later, she’s hovering near your record player, looking through the vinyls. The turntable was already in the house when you’d arrived years ago, but it was buried in the closet and broken. Ethan had managed to fix it after a little troubleshooting and scavenging for parts. Now, you both were always looking for records to bring home, and had amassed quite the eclectic collection – jazz, funk, hip-hop, and everything in between.

“Wow,” Ellie says, running her fingers along the shelved records. “You found all these?”

“Some of them were already here. But yeah. Ethan and I are always on the lookout on patrol. I can play you something. What do you like?”

“Eighties, I think,” she says. “But…I also haven’t heard as much.”

“Well here,” you thumb through the records, pull out a worn copy of Speaking In Tongues. “How about some Talking Heads?”

You pass the record over to her, and she stares at you blankly. It’s only then that you realize — she’s never used a record player before. There’s a familiar pang of sadness before you show her how.

“Are you feeling better?” Ellie eyes you wearily once the music starts, and you settle onto the couch, feeling a little worn out after being on your feet.

“Yes,” you say. “I’m older now, so it seems like healing takes a lot more time.”

Ellie nods, then bobs her head to the music a little. “This is better than most of the stuff Joel likes.”

“Oh yeah,” you smirk, and instinctually, you recall his enthusiasm for all things old-school country. “I remember that,” you say softly.

With so much time on your hands lately, you’ve found yourself thinking of Joel a lot, reminiscing on the time you’d spent with him and Sarah. What Ethan had told you about him staying by your side was definitely making you reconsider your assessment of him, even if you were still hesitant. It was probably a trap to think you’d ever be able to feel those things with him again, but if remembering them brought you comfort, you weren’t going to resist it.

“You’re more than welcome to come over to listen anytime,” you offer, and she nods excitedly.

Ellie stays for longer than you expect. You talk a fair bit. She tells you about what she’s learning in school – but mostly how ‘fucking useless’ it is. She wanders around your living room and pokes through your stuff without asking, but you don’t think to stop her – you just answer her questions and let her be curious.

Eventually, the sun dips below the horizon, and she excuses herself to go home, insisting that Joel will ‘fucking kill her’ if she’s out too late. Even though you’re exhausted after entertaining her for a few hours, you find it feels nice. Being on house arrest, essentially, had left your starved for connection outside Maria and Ethan.

You see her out the door before returning to your refrigerator to look for something to eat. Ethan will be back from patrol any minute, so it may be nice to make him something even if you have almost no energy.

But when there’s another knock on your front door, you’re shocked to see who you find staring on your porch.

Joel.

You almost forget to speak at the sight of him. It’s been weeks since your accident and he might as well have moved away from Jackson since you hadn’t seen him at all.

“Hey,” you say, tentatively, taking him in. He seems preoccupied – cheeks flushed, hair rumpled, and out of breath, like he had run all the way to get here.

“Have you seen Ellie?” he asks, not even greeting you in return. “I’ve looked everywhere and I-

“You just missed her,” you cut him off, not because you’re trying to dismiss him, but because he's clearly distressed. “I’m surprised you didn’t see her on your way over.”

Joel sighs, eyes closing in relief. “Thank God.” For a second, you glimpse the frazzled and overworked father you used to know. “She stayed out too late, had me worried sick.”

“She’s fine,” you say. “Although she did say you might kill her if she didn’t get home soon.”

Joel gives you an almost imperceptible smile, but seems mostly irritated by Ellie’s suggestion. “I would do no such thing.” He shakes his head and takes two steps backwards. “Thank you. Didn’t mean to be a bother.”

Your mind floats to a memory of Joel on your front porch, late getting home from work and looking for Sarah, and you can’t help but feel a bit of sadness and longing for a simpler time, a surge of affection.

Joel is halfway down your front porch steps when you speak again. “You aren’t bothering me.”

He pauses, turns to look over his shoulder. There’s something he wants to say, you can feel it, and you step outside, letting the door fall shut behind you and remaining huddled against the siding, and he turns to face you fully, sighing. “I’ve been meaning to stop by, actually….”

“Oh…really?” you can’t keep the surprise from your voice, and he notices.

“Yeah,” Joel rubs his fingers together, a nervous habit of his you know all too well. “Yeah. I- well, I wanted to apologize to you.”

You’re so startled by the words you can’t answer right away. But the split second of hesitation causes Joel to continue, looking to fill the empty space.

“I’ve been waiting to find the right thing to say….but it doesn’t seem like that’ll ever happen. I’m not even sure I know where to start.”

“Oh,” is all you can manage, still taken aback. The only thing that doesn’t surprise you about his admission is the sincerity. You could say a lot of things about Joel, but he isn’t a liar. He always tells the truth. Maybe it’s why he pulled away from you to begin with. It’s easier than the alternative – spending time with you, which would force him to be honest. For how much you’ve changed, you’d probably do the same.

But the thing with Joel is that you’re exhausted. You’re tired of the back and forth, of the push and pull, of the constant struggle to hold your care over each other's head, hoping the other will break first. Maybe this is a fresh start.

You step closer to him, and you see him study the way you move. Of course, you’re trying to look strong, but he can surely sense the weakness. He’d always been good at that, better than any of the others. Your hand comes to rest on the porch railing for support.

But…..

There’s that voice in the back of your head, the one that tells you this is a mistake. The one that reminds of the pain you’ve often earned through vulnerability. It likes to think it’s served you, protected you, and it has. But it’s not always right.

“I suppose I owe you an apology, too,” you say. “At the very least I should thank you for what you did.”

Joel shakes his head, dismissively, but looks to where your hand rests on the porch railing, looks back up to you as he reaches out. “I’m just glad you’re okay.”

His hand clasps over yours, and to anyone else, this might be nothing. It’s so innocent, unassuming. But the effect it has on you is palpable. He squeezes once, and you flip your hand over, squeezing his back, giving him a gentle smile. “I am too.”

Joel’s eyes fill with a warmth you haven’t seen in twenty years, and your stomach flutters, your heart races. A part of yourself that you’d considered long dead seems to rouse.“Would you like to stay for dinner?”

“I told Ellie we’d go to the mess hall together,” Joel says. “Otherwise I would.”

You blink once, and Joel sees it, immediately continuing on. “But maybe Ellie and I can come another time, join you and Ethan?”

“Yeah. He’d like that,” you say. “That might be nice.” ─── ･｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

-June 20, 2024-

You think that at the end of a long winter, bears must hate coming out of hibernation.

It must suck. They spend months sleeping, doing almost nothing, and then suddenly they’re forced to function again – to hunt, to eat, to roam, to survive and socialize. You imagine there has to be a learning curve, a desire to crawl back into their den and never leave again.

Or maybe you could be wrong, and they love it. And you’re just a wimp who hates feeling uncomfortable.

All you know is that you’re huddled in the back corner of the Tipsy Bison, nursing a whiskey – and it’s the last place you want to be.

You’re overwhelmed.

And despite the fact that you regularly used to attend community events, it’s been so long since you've been out in Jackson that you feel like you don’t belong. To some extent, you’ve always felt this – too hardened by the outside world to fully assimilate, especially when the town throws dances. But in the past, you at least attempted to convince yourself otherwise.

Two weeks back, the doctors had cleared you to go about your daily activities as normal – within reason, of course – but you hadn’t exactly jumped at the opportunity. Tonight, Ethan had accused you of becoming ‘antisocial’ and ‘reclusive’. You had agreed to attend – but only to beat those allegations. So far, you are definitely not.

You scan the crowd, taking in the people spinning around the dance floor. Some of the women are wearing dresses. You can’t help but feel a little envious of how easily they’re able to perform femininity, which is something you’d given up on a while ago. It hadn’t exactly served you before arriving in Jackson, and you predict it would be humiliating to start trying now. After all the things you’d experienced, you were left marred with scars and wrinkles, stretch marks and loose skin. Since then, you’ve remained loyal to the combination of men’s denim and tank tops with flannel-button downs overtop.

It doesn’t always stop the men in the community from descending like vultures. You might be the last pick – there are plenty others who are younger and prettier – but you’re still an option. Bea, your old partner, had always theorized that some men were particularly drawn to sapphic women, that it was ‘the ultimate challenge’. Maybe there is some truth to her theory, but you like men….sometimes. So there is always a part of you that yearns for their validation, for as many times as you tell yourself you don’t want it. But it never feels good to get it after you’ve watched them exhaust all their other options.

It’s pathetic, but it makes you think of Joel. He and Ellie had been over to yours and Ethans last week for a nice dinner, and you had tried to gauge whether there was any romantic connection between you still. Occasionally, you’d caught him looking at you with a wistful smile, but he could have been lost in thought. It’s not like you needed that from him or anything, but it might be useful information. After all this time, Joel is still so handsome, and probably has an impressive selection of potential partners here in Jackson – women of all ages. You hope he’s not here tonight – you can’t see much besides the dance floor at this point – because the thought of him cozied up to anyone here, combined with the acrid taste of the drink in your hand, makes you want to gag.

You take another look around the room. Eugene, your partner in crime – quite literally – is walking towards you, which helps quell your spiraling mind . If you talk to him, say hello to Tommy and Maria, maybe Ethan will see the effort you’re making and you can sneak out without having to deal with anyone. It’s wishful thinking, but it’s worth a shot. The sooner you can get home tonight, the better.

─── ･｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

Joel can’t stop staring.

He knows it’s impolite. He knows that he’s not being subtle. He knows that if any other person in this bar followed his eyeline, they’d pick up on what he was doing in an instant. But every minute he doesn’t get called out for it, he becomes more and more emboldened.

It’s the first dance he’s ever been to in Jackson, and the only reason he’s here is to placate Ellie and Tommy. But even they have abandoned him in favor of better companions – his brother is deep in conversation with Maria, sitting across from him in a booth, and Ellie is out on the dance floor dancing with one of her new friends, Dina.

Joel just can’t help himself. He still feels guilty for what he’s done, but he can’t shake the feeling of a soft hand clasped within his own – the first time he’d felt any semblance of hope since arriving here. Tommy and Maria had already slyly let him know about all the women who were interested, but he couldn’t bring himself to entertain their advances. There’s only one he wants, and she won’t even look in his direction.

When he’d first noticed you, you were whispering with Eugene on the opposite side of the dance floor. According to Tommy, you spend a fair bit of your time with the old man, which Joel initially thought to mean that you had some sort of entanglement. At first, Joel thought that couldn’t be possible. But you were deep in focus as you listened to Eugene’s words, nodding and leaning in closer and closer, and Joel thinks Tommy might be right. He wants to understand what you see in this man – tall and unkempt, covered in tattoos with long, graying hair and a beard to match. But Joel catches himself in his judgment, he’s probably just as unappealing – not just because of how he’s aged, but because of how horrible he’s been to you in general.

The next time Joel sees you, you’re at the bar, chatting with a man who Maria had introduced him to not long ago, a resident who is new in town. Joel had been too busy focusing on the fact that he’d been in Jackson long enough to not be its newest resident that he couldn’t remember his name. He wishes he had, so he could keep tabs on him. Of course, he can’t blame the man for being drawn to you – Joel knows very well that you’re hard to miss in a crowd.

Still, Joel bristles when you both step away from the bar, and the man’s hand lands just above your sacrum. He actually finds himself tensing up, resisting the urge to intervene, because it’d likely only make you angry. Plus, maybe you are interested. That question is answered quickly when you reach behind your to clasp the man's hand and place it back at his side. Where it belongs, he thinks.

“Joel!”

He snaps his attention to what’s in front of him – interrupted, and probably for good measure, lest he get himself too worked up. Ethan approaches with a girl his age, her arm linked through his. Joel stands to greet them.

The terse understanding between himself and Ethan while you were still in the hospital had somehow turned into a friendship, especially after they’d begun getting paired up on patrol. Ethan reaches out for Joel’s hand to dap him up, slinging an arm briefly over his shoulder.

“How’s it going, kid?”

“Good, good,” Ethan nods, pulling back, and gestures to the girl next to him. “Joel, this is Alex.”

“It’s nice to meet you,” she says. “Ethan’s told me all about you.”

“Really?” Joel asks, feeling a little bewildered.

“Only good things,” Alex says quickly, as if she senses his apprehension. Ethan puts his arm around her waist. Joel recalls a few weeks back when he’d asked for advice on how to ask out a girl. Joel hadn’t pried at the time, but now he seems to understand, and is surprised by the swell of pride he feels. “Ethan says you’re a fucking badass,”she giggles after she swears.

Joel looks over at Ethan. “I don’t know about that.”

He shrugs, changes the subject. “Since when do you come to these things?” Ethan asks.

“Ellie dragged me out,” Joel answers.

“I did the same with my aunt,” Ethan chuckles. “But now I can’t find her, and I’m pretty sure she’s escaped.”

“Oh, is she here?” Joel plays dumb, like he hasn’t been aware of exactly where you have been all night. “I haven’t seen her.”

“I think she was with Eugene earlier,” Alex has to stand on her toes to speak into Ethan’s ear. Joel watches Ethan’s nose wrinkle.

“Do you know Eugene at all?” Ethan turns to Joel. “I’m trying to figure out what’s going on there, but she won’t say anything.”

Joel wishes that he had more information. “Tommy says they seem close.”

“I know that,” Ethan says. “I wish she would just be honest with me. It’s not like I would be mad. Whatever,” he shakes his head. “We can talk about it another time. I just want to find her so I can introduce her to Alex.”

“We should say hi to Tommy and Maria first,” Alex says, and Ethan nods in agreement before saying goodbye to him. Joel claps a hand on Ethan’s shoulder as he moves past him, and Alex gives him a shy smile in acknowledgement.

Focusing back on the crowd, Joel realizes that you’ve vanished in the short span of his last interaction. Maybe you’d rejected that guy, and then he’d retaliated. Maybe you’d gone home with Eugene. Joel shakes his hand. It’s none of his business. He doesn’t need to get involved. It’s not his job to look after you, regardless of how much better he feels when he does. Old instincts. He can’t help himself.

He settles on watching Ellie and Dina spin each other around on the dance floor. Eventually, Tommy and Maria, then Ethan and Alex all trickle out of the booth to go get another round or head to dance. Joel stands to release the booth to someone who actually needs it – and is left in the corner, nursing a nearly empty beer that’s now flat and warm. He looks towards his family and friends, but for some reason, he still feels alone.

Joel isn’t sure how long he stands sulking, but he starts when someone approaches from behind.

“Having fun?”

You’re a pace or two back, one thumb hooked through a belt loop, a whiskey in your opposite hand. Joel looks back at the crowd a moment, then at the ground. “No.”

“Neither am I,” you commiserate, stepping alongside him.

Joel considers offering that Ethan was looking for you, but selfishly does not want to give you a reason to leave, so he stays quiet. You observe the dance floor like he is, smiling slightly at the sight of Ethan and Alex dancing. The flannel you’re wearing over a gray tank hangs loosely off one shoulder, and Joel wants to reach out and touch the exposed skin. You take your last sip of whiskey, bring a finger to swipe under your bottom lip, and Joel wishes he knew what you might taste like right now. He scolds himself for fantasizing.

You don’t speak either, and you stand in silence for a while, until you eventually pop your hip, shifting closer to him. Maybe you don’t realize it, but you’re already standing so close that your arm gets pressed up against his. Neither of you acknowledge the contact, but Joel is acutely aware of how your skin burns hot against his own. He feels comforted by the affection, even if it’s unintentional.

“Want to leave?” Joel asks, and can hardly believe that the words came out of his mouth, even if he wanted them to.

You look over at him, not bothering to hide your surprise, but your expression evens out quickly, and you give him a single nod. “Yeah.”

─── ･｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

Joel’s still not convinced this is real. It feels too much like a dream, the weather outside is so pleasantly warm it feels like he’s floating as you walk down the street. He had never expected you to agree to leave with him, and now he doesn’t know what to do, or what to say.

The greater distance you put between yourselves and the bar, the quieter the town is. Most of Jackson’s residents are at the dance, save for the guards at the front gate and the handful of people that had been mingling just outside.

He heads in the general direction of the neighborhood, even though he lives on a different street.

“What are we supposed to do now?” you wonder out loud, and you sound a little incredulous, like you’re equally as shocked to find yourself beside him. The question carries a bit more weight than it would have coming from anyone else.

Joel contemplates. He’s not sure what he wants from you – there are a lot of things, actually – but he doesn’t know if he really deserves any of them. For now, your companionship is more than enough.

“You’re welcome to come back to mine,” he offers. “But if you’re looking to keep drinking, all the booze is back at the bar.”

“I’m good.” You shake your head like you’re uninterested, but look over at him with a sparkle in your eye. “I have something better….”

You reach into the pocket of your flannel and produce a rolled joint between two fingers, looking over your shoulder. “Those dances are usually terrible, so I always come prepared.”

Joel can’t help the chuckle that escapes him, and the sheepish grin he gets in return makes his cheeks feel warm. “Where’d you even get that?”

“You’ve never been on patrol with Eugene, have you?” you ask. “He has a place just out of town where he grows it. I’ve been helping him since we first got paired up, and in exchange, I get to sample the supply.”

Of course. Joel would’ve never imagined that was the reason you were so close with Eugene, but it suddenly makes incredible sense. He shakes his head in a combination of relief and amusement. “You really haven’t changed.”

“Oh, I’m sure I have,” you answer, smiling to yourself and looking at the ground. “But of course I haven’t shaken all my bad habits.”

“That’s not true,” Joel mutters.

“Well, you haven’t changed either, for as much as you’ve tried to convince me,” you nudge him gently, offering him the joint. “What do you think?”

Joel plucks it from between your fingers and puts it between his lips. “I think I have a lighter at home.”

“Sounds perfect.”

In the front hallway of his house, you slip out of your tennis shoes, shuffling behind him in your socks, pausing occasionally to study some of the doodles that Ellie had drawn and hung on the walls – it wasn’t exactly a priority to decorate these days, but they certainly livened up the place. He knows how much Ellie likes you, despite the fact that she doesn’t gush, but the odd comment here and there says as much. Joel remembers how difficult it had been to keep Sarah away, and Ellie now is no different. He doesn’t seem to be able to help himself, either.

You sit next to Joel on his wicker couch, curling your feet up under you as he lights the joint and study him while he takes the first few puffs. He does it without thinking. That’s how soft Jackson has made him. Normally, he’d be too stressed about being out of his wits. But he can’t see how hypervigilance has served him since settling down. He feels safe here, and somehow especially because he’s with you.

When he passes the joint your way, you look at him wistfully. “Old times,” you say with a grin.

Joel nods as he exhales, coughing. “Old times.”

“Oh yeah,” you say, as if you just remembered something. “You can’t tell Ethan about this. He doesn’t know, and he will give me shit about it. I need him to take me seriously.”

Joel shakes his head. “Well, you know, it sounds like he and Tommy both think you and Eugene are together.”

“What?” your head jerks forward in shock, eyes going wide. “Oh my god, no. Do people think that?”

“I’m just sayin’,” Joel wants to mention how he had seen you whispering to each other at the bar earlier, but then realizes it’d give a bit too much away. “That’s what they think.”

“Well....historically speaking I might’ve liked older men…. but not that old.”

Joel purses his lips. “You’ve lived here awhile, huh?” When you nod, he continues. “Has no one caught your eye?”

“Uhm….not really. But….” you trail off, looking into Joel’s backyard. “To be completely honest, I don't think about that much these days. I guess I feel like I have a lot to be grateful for. I don’t want to push it.”

Joel understands, and nods pensively.

“What about you?” you ask.

“I guess I feel the same.”

That causes you to smile a little bit, look over at him. “I bet you already know this. But the women here would line up down the block for you.”

Joel can’t help but roll his eyes, though he wonders if you would, too. Even if you did like him, that didn’t seem like your style.

“I’m serious. I’ve heard the things they whisper behind your back. All their fantasies about you are pretty creative...”

“Fantasies?” He grimaces. He imagines none of them know anything about who he really is. You’re the closest thing, and all he’s done is hurt you. “I’m sure you were quick to set them straight.”

“I don’t say anything,” you say, then continue on, a little quieter, looking at him from under your lashes. “I like to keep you to myself.”

Joel isn’t sure how to respond to that. You have every right to tell all of them that you were once together, and all the ways he’s hurt you since. Yet for some reason, you’ve chosen to protect him.

“So….all this time….” you wonder. “You had to have been with other people, right?”

Joel doesn’t think to hold back. “I had a partner for a long time. Tess. First, it was all business, I helped her smuggle things in and out of the Boston QZ…and then, I don’t know….we got along, we trusted each other and…” Joel trails off, hoping you’d put together the rest before he has to go into too much detail. “She was real fuckin’ tough. Scared me a little at first. You would’ve liked her.”

“Well, we already have one thing in common. What happened?”

“She’s the whole reason I ended up out here….with Ellie,” Joel explains. “But I lost her a little over a year ago.”

He hopes you don’t ask how. Maybe someday he’d be willing to go into detail, but talking about it generally is hard enough as it is. But fortunately, you seem to pick up on his hesitance. “I’m sorry, Joel,” you say softly.

He shakes his head. “I was an asshole. To her. I should've....after Sarah died I didn’t want to get attached, so I kept her at arms length and I... I wished I hadn’t in the end. It only made things worse.”

“Yeah,” you nod, look down. “I’ve made that mistake before.”

Joel doesn’t want to linger any longer on the memory. “What about you? Were you with anyone?”

“Uhm, yeah,” you fidget, looking uncomfortable. “I had a partner….for like ten years."

Ten years? He had been with Tess for more, but something about that information feels jarring. He’s shocked Tommy never told him this. Did Tommy even know? Suddenly, it dawns on Joel everything that could’ve happened to you since you’ve been apart. Entire lifetimes. And he’d said such horrible things when you’d fought. He remembers your face when he’d told you that you didn’t know what it was like to lose a child. Maybe you had. He’d been so cruel and inconsiderate just because he was uncomfortable.

His throat feels tight, almost scared to learn anymore. “What…what was his name?”

“Well, Bea….was her name.”

Joel is sure he doesn't hide the shock well. “Sorry, I didn’t know…”

“Yeah,” you say. “I don’t think I did either. Well, I sort of did, but I was too young I think when I first realized to make any sense of it, but…. I met her and…yeah,” then, you smirk. “I mean, I went to an all-girls school and I had a really bad relationship with my dad so…it definitely makes sense. ”

Joel considers this, smiles along with you. “But anyways. Her and I met shortly after my brother died and it was kind of the same. We kept each other alive, things developed from there. We ended up getting involved with this group who lived in the middle of nowhere. That’s a whole other story, but…” you wave your hand. “I loved her, and I lost her right before Ethan and I got here.”

Joel sees all the pain in your eyes, and wishes he could say something to take it all away. He knows he can’t. You look back out into the woods in his backyard, take a deep breath, and reach back towards the joint that you had put out not long before, lighting it again. Joel gets the sense that both of you had done the most amount of sharing possible for the time being.

“Look at us,” you take another drag before passing it over. “Old times.”

“Old times,” he repeats, a smile working its way onto his face.

“This used to be my favorite thing to do with you.”

“It was nice,” Joel agrees….hesitates before continuing. “But I can think of some things I liked better.” He gives you a knowing look, and you roll your eyes, laughing easily at his joke. It feels so good to make you laugh, to see you smile. Why had he spent so much time resisting?

“Touche.”

What happens next spills out of Joel so quickly he doesn’t think to stop it. “I tried to look for you….after all this happened. I didn’t have Sarah anymore, and I thought maybe….I don’t know. It was the only thing that kept me going for a while.”

“I did too,” you confess. “But…I was with Vincent and Ethan, and I felt like I couldn’t leave them alone for something that might just be…. I always hoped you both made it. And I’m so sorry she’s gone. I really did love her.”

“I know you did,” Joel reaches out to take your hand. “I know. And I shouldn’t have said those things I did. I’m still not sure why you’ve been so patient with me.”

“Hmm,” you shift so that you’re closer to him. “You waited around for me back then. It’s only fair that I’d wait around for you now. I want you in my life. I don’t care what that looks like. But it’s too hard to forget about a person that you loved.”

Joel wants as much from you as you’re willing to give, and he can’t tear his gaze away from you. But he wants you to see him, all of him, before he takes it.

“I’ve let a lot of people down. I’ve done a lot of h-horrible things,” his voice cracks, and tears well in his eyes.

“I have, too, you know? Those things still live with me. But I think what matters is who we are now,” you reach out, fingertips brushing the scar on his temple, and Joel swears that even if you don’t know the story behind it, you can see right through him. “And I know who you are.”

“I don’t want to hurt you anymore than I already have.”

“You won’t,” you say. “No more than anyone else has. And if it makes you feel better…when people hurt me, I’ve gotten pretty good at hurting them back.”

“If I do, I’d hope you would.”

“I will. I promise,” your thumb strokes his cheek, marveling at him. “I would suggest a blood oath or something but….I heard we kind of already did that…”

He’s given you every warning, every barrier, and you’re still here. He can’t believe it, and he doesn’t think he can hold back any longer. “Come here.”

He kisses you. He wishes that he could be slow and tender and gentle like he used to be – and certainly he’s still capable, but he realizes that he’s been depriving himself of something he wanted for so long, and can’t seem to control himself.

Your hands land on the side of his face, and he wraps his arms around your waist, pulling you onto his lap. Maybe you’re somewhat taken aback by his urgency, you hum against his lips, but you don’t resist at all. Joel maneuvers you so you’re straddling his thighs, and he grips your hips, your ass, coasts his hands up your side. Your lips part in a moan, and he slips his tongue into your mouth.

For a while, he stays there, savors the taste of you, whiskey and smoke still lingering on your lips. His hands cup your jaw, feel your body, grip and squeeze and stroke and you let him, continue to let him. He tries everything, wondering if you’ll tell him to stop, if you’ll decide you’ve had too much, but you don’t. Then again, he should know by now that you’re a woman who knows what she wants. He just finds it’s hard to believe that he’s the thing you want.

You break away from him, just a little, and Joel presses his nose to your neck, kisses your pulse point.

“Should we go upstairs?” your voice is raspy and breathless. “Will Ellie be home soon?”

“Probably not for a while. We can be quick.”

“Hopefully not too quick,” you raise your eyebrows. Joel can’t help but laugh a little. He relishes in the way your hands rake up and down his arms, exploring him, touching him. Of course he wants you, but even just this would be enough. He’d be content with less, he hadn’t realized how starved of affection he’d been.

You’re able to pry yourselves off one another to make it up the stairs, and Joel guides you with a hand to the small of your back. When you get to his bedroom, he opens the door, but stops you before you go inside.

“Hold on,” Joel mutters, winding one arm around your waist, the other behind your knee.

“Joel, what-no, you’ll–” he pulls you into his arms.

“Do you really think I’m not strong enough?”

“I didn’t say that,” you chuckle as he carries you over the threshold and into the bedroom, breath puffing against him before he lays you down on the bed.

When he hovers over you, your fingers wind into his hair, nails raking against his scalp. He savors every sweet sigh he’s able to pull from you, hands cupping your breasts and squeezing your hips. You’re so pliant and open beneath his body, it makes it easier to not feel guilty about what he’s doing. He knows he shouldn’t feel guilty, you’ve said as much, but it might take some time before the feeling will die completely. Hopefully, he has enough time with you to see it off completely.

Clothes are removed quickly, intentionally, as you both bare more and more of yourself to each other. And while he wishes he could’ve been there to see the ways in which your body has changed, you’re still as beautiful as ever.

Joel, however, is hesitant to give himself away completely. When you tug at the hem of his shirt, he hesitates.

“I don’t know if-” he pauses. “If you want to see all that.”

“Joel,” you stare at him knowingly, kneeling across from him as he stands at the edge of the bed. “I do.”

So he releases your hand, and lets you pull it over his head. Carefully, you study him, his body littered with scars. He knows he’s not as in shape as you remember. These days, he hardly can look at himself in the mirror after a shower. He expects you to be disgusted, or at least see it flit across your face before you compose yourself, but you don’t. Your fingertips drag through the smattering of hair on his chest and down his torso, tracing several prominent scars – each one with a story – but you linger on the one at his abdomen, frowning.

He sees the question on your face, but you don’t ask it. Instead, you return to press yourself against him. “I’m so glad you’re still here….”

You kiss him, then, and Joel can only kiss you back.

Joel isn’t the only one with battle scars. Some of them he feels are his fault, but you seem less self-concious about them, which gives him a surprising amount of confidence. Maybe it’s just a reality of what happens when you make it this long.

When you’re finally bare beneath him, he admires how you look, stretched out and waiting, chest heaving and shivering with anticipation. He slides his hand between your legs – feels you already wet and warm, sinking two fingers inside. Your walls flutter around the intrusion, back arcing off the bed when you sigh out his name. Joel.

He’d forgotten how nice it felt to hear that.

Joel is already thinking about what he’d like to do to you next time. He’d be more careful, more patient. He’d bury his face between your thighs to see if you tasted as good as he remembers, he’d let your fingers curl into his hair. But right now you both seem desperate for the same thing.

He pumps his cock a few times with his hand, he can’t remember the last time he’d been this hard – the last time he’s wanted anyone this badly. Even with Tess, it had always felt like the both of them were hurrying to scratch an itch, her eyes would wander like she was thinking of other people, and maybe he was, too.

Joel lines himself up with your slick cunt, teases you a little, and you roll your body down to meet him, gasping when his blunt head slides in – just a little.

He can’t hold back. You practically suck him in, so tight and hot around him he finds it immediately overwhelming, but he doesn’t even think to pull out. Only when he’s fully seated inside you, and given you a chance to adjust, does he start to move.

It’s euphoric. You’re both older now, more mature, but he still remembers all the things you liked, even if it takes a moment for him to find the spot inside you that makes you cry out, legs wrapping around his hips.

Unlike before, you don’t bother trying to hide from him. You kiss him, hold him, touch him, look him in the eyes, tell him how good he feels – you don’t hold back. Joel relishes every word you say, clings to the praise and gives it back. Your lashes flutter when he tells you how pretty you look.

He can think of nothing else other than bringing you pleasure, can tell you’re getting close when you begin to rut against him, and he reaches down to let the pads of his fingers slide over your clit.

When you come, you whine his name, lock your lips with his own and he swallows your moans. The feeling of you so impossibly tight and wet and pulsing and squeezing him so tightly has him following closely after.

His head is still buried in the crook of your neck when you speak again. “God, I’ve missed you.”

“I’ve missed you, too.”

The second Joel pulls out, he starts missing how close he felt to you. But you fix that by rolling over onto your stomach, curling up at his side, head on his chest, and arm across his stomach.

“Joel. Fuck, you’re so perfect.”

He’s far from it. But he’s starting to think if you say it enough, maybe he’ll start to believe it. He turns his head to kiss you gently, slowly. “So are you.”

“We can do this again, right?” you ask.

“Yes,” he says. “Yes, we can.”

“Good,” you settle back against him, and very slowly, he dozes off with you right beside him. He doesn’t want to sleep alone again, and luckily, he doesn’t have to.

─── ･｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

-December 4th, 2026-

When you return home from patrol, you find Joel in his living room – boots off and socked feet propped on the arm of the couch. You don’t notice his eyes are closed, that he’s asleep, until you get closer, see the book he’d been reading resting on his chest as he snores lightly. You can’t help but feel for him – he’s probably exhausted from constant patrols, so he must be tired.

But mostly, you’re just overwhelmed by the love you feel for him, catching him in a quiet moment of vulnerability. Hesitantly, you reach out and squeeze his foot. It’s gentle and tender enough that he blinks his eyes open and looks around, taking in his surroundings, rather than jolting awake like he often does. When he sees you on the opposite end of the couch, he melts back into the pillow he’s propped against.

“Hey, stud,” you lean against the arm of the couch.

“Hey,” Joel answers, voice still gruff with sleep. “How long was I out?”

“I don’t know,” you shrug. “I just got in.”

“Hmm,” Joel closes his eyes again, folds his hands across his stomach.

“You’re wearing the glasses I got you,” you point out. They’re simple. Rectangular black frames. You’d found them on patrol, and brought them home after Joel had been complaining that he could barely see when he read before bed. But he’d tried them on and insisted he hated the way they looked, so you’d ended up using them most of the time.

“They do work,” he grumbles, like he’s ashamed to admit it. “But I still think they look stupid.”

“You look like a sexy librarian,” Joel rolls his eyes, but you can tell he’s suppressing a grin. There’s always a bit of defiance about him, he can’t fully admit how you get him so flustered even after you’ve spent so much time together. You press your thumb into the arch of his foot and he groans. “That feel good?” you ask.

“Yes.”

“Whatcha reading?” You gesture towards the book.

“Some book about the moon landing,” Joel lifts it off of his chest, where it lay face down and open, looks at the back cover. “For Ellie.”

“How sweet.”

“It’s a little dry,” he deadpans. “But she likes this stuff.”

You shift your massage to his other foot. Joel stretches, his arms lifting above his head, the shirt he’s wearing rides up just so, so you see a sliver of his lower belly before it disappears again, throwing an arm over his eyes.

“Are you tired?” you ask.

“Always,” he says through a yawn.

“Me too,” you yawn along with him, since they’re contagious. He pulls the glasses from their perch on the bridge of his nose and shuts the book, placing them both on the coffee table in front of him. You take your hands off his feet and he sits up a little straighter, holding out his hand.

“Come ‘ere,” he says, and you do.

He grunts as you settle into his arms, head nestled against his chest, sprawling out almost on top of him, the only way you both can fit like this on the couch.

“You’re so warm,” you say softly, letting him wrap his arms around you.

“You’re cold. Your hands are freezing,” he holds them in his own.

“It’s cold out.”

“Don’t know why you left today.”

“Obligations. Patrol.”

“Fuck that.”

You laugh into his chest, pausing for a moment before speaking again. “You know, I think we might be boring.”

“What makes you say that?”

“Well, we don’t really leave the house. We spend all day reading. And we’re old.”

“We’re not that old.”

“But we’re getting up there.”

“Sure, but…” Joel trails off.

“Everything’s so quiet, so calm.”

“I think that’s what most people would describe as content.”

“Are you content?” you ask, lifting your head to look him in the eyes.

“I’m happy,” he says softly, tucking a piece of hair behind your ears. “Are you?”

“Of course.”

“Good. Then don’t worry about the rest.”

“Okay,” you settle back against your husband's chest, feel his lips brush your forehead.

His fingers search absentmindedly for the ring on your finger he’d found while clearing out a pawn shop not too long ago. The one he wore looked nothing like your own. But the marriage had been long overdue, and neither of you cared what the rings actually looked like.

Nowadays, you split your time between his place with Ellie, and your own with Ethan, but end up in his bed every night. At this point, you don’t think you could sleep without him.

Years ago, another lifetime, you’d had a conversation underneath a sky full of stars. You’d told him that for you, good things had never lasted. Joel had made a promise.

This will.

It took time. There was a lot of pain. But in the end, he had told you the truth.

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rafedaddy01 · 15 days

Text

I saw you across the room

Summary: you walk into Rafes parties and the moment he lays eyes on you he knows he must have you.

A/N: rafe Cameron is definitely the type of person to have a soft spot for you, but only show it when no one else is around

You’re not really up to this party, your friend dragged you here because she had just broken up with her boyfriend and needed “emotional support”. Which really just meant drinking her sorrows away.

To be honest you weren’t really the type to go out to parties. More of the type to stay home and read a good book while petting your cat in bed, a home body. A girl who usually kept to herself. Although you knew there was a party being thrown almost every single night, this was figure 8 after all, you never found fascination in reality like you did when you would read.

“Ariella, I really don’t wanna be here” you whined and stomped your foot into the ground like a kindergartener refusing to go to the first day of school. “And this outfit-“ Ariella was your friend since grade school, she was so much more out going and confident than you and you have no idea why she chose to be friends with you but your lucky to have her. She chose your outfit tonight, a mini black dress with the cleavage cut practically down the middle. You always had big boobs and were told they were your best feature but you weren’t the type to expose your body like some other girls would. You liked being reserved, and you were happy in your own little bubble. “Girl, stop being like that! You look hot. And we’re gonna have fun tonight, please”

You rolled your eyes but let your friend drag you inside the tannyhill mansion. You knew she needed this. Despite putting on an act of toughness, you knew she was actually devastated about breaking up with her boyfriend. Ariella was the type to cry about it alone, but in a crowd she’d usually be the one cheering everybody up while dealing with her inner demons. And plus she’s put up with so much of your bullshit you figured she deserved a night of fun.

“Oh my gosh we’re gonna have so much fun tonight!” Ariellas face beamed as she scanned the room, finding her inner circle. “Go get us some drinks, I have to say hi to some people” she let go of your hand and there you were. Standing alone, in the middle of some strangers house, wearing the skimpiest dress you owned.

Rafe couldn’t believe his eyes when he saw you. Who were you? He’d never seen you before. He sure would have remembered if he’d fucked you. He’s probably been in every pussy on his god awful island. But you. He’s definitely never seen or been inside you, yet.

“Yo top” he nods his head in your direction, your in the kitchen pouring some drinks, “whose the chick?”

Topper eyes you up and down, “never seen her before” he goes back to explaining why basketball is better than football to some poor sap and dismissing rafe.

“Interesting” rafe says under his breath as he fixes his SnapBack and stands to make his way to you.

“So many drinks” you mumble to yourself as you skim the bottles lined up on the table. “Wonder which asshole this place belongs too” you scoff as you top off the two cups in front of you with some tequila.

“That would be me” your started as a voice speaks up behind you. Turning around you find a boy with a childish smirk on his face, wearing a SnapBack hat that you shouldn’t find so attractive but he makes it work, and a polo shirt and some slacks, typical figure 8 style. “The names-“

“Rafe” Ariella speaks up before the boy gets a chance. “Y/n, where have you been. I’ve been looking everywhere for you” Rafes face turns sour as he looks at your friend and then back to you. “You told me to get us some drinks” you raise the two solo cups, giving one to your friend. “Don’t even think about it” Ariella takes the drink and steps in front of you and rafe, giving him a death stare before turning around and dragging you off.

“What was that” you ask confused as she continues dragging you through the crowd, “just some asshole looking to get laid. Don’t let him even talk to you, y/n. Seriously, he’s not worth it”

As the rest of the night went on you got more comfortable, having had a few drinks and mingled with some of Ariellas friends.

You can’t help but feel like you’re being watched and every time you look up your eyes lock with Rafes. No matter where you were in the house you could feel his eyes on you, your body, your face.

It made you uncomfortable, but you’d be lying if you said it didn’t make your insides turn with excitement.

You were never the type to get attention from guys. There would be some that would talk to you, but they were only after one thing and although you’ve had sex before, it was never meaningful. You’ve never found anybody who cared for your feelings and actually wanted to take the time to get to know you before.

But looking into Rafes eyes something felt different. Sure maybe he also wanted you just for your body, but it also felt like there was a connection, something pulling your body’s together. And the fact that he was hot was just a plus, you’ve never been attracted to someone this bad before.

“I’ll be right back” you lean over to your friend who’s busy talking to some guy to really hear you. You know you shouldn’t leave her this drunk and vulnerable with some rando but you’ve had to pee for so long, you couldn’t hold it anymore.

You finally found the bathroom, doing your business and washing your hands before stepping out, only to bump into a broad body that smelled like whisky mixed with sandalwood, “so sorry-“ you excuse yourself.

“No worries, I was hoping we’d run into each other” that same childish smirk on his face. “I’m rafe, I’m sure your friend told you a little about me. But I’m not all bad, trust me” he winks and your insides melt. Why are you so attracted to him? From what Ariella told you he’s a douch bag, a sleeze who’s slept with almost every girl on this island, and yet you want him to do unholy things to you.

You clear your throat before talking, “ha, well she did tell me some things, but uh, I usually like to judge people based on my own opinion.”

Rafes completely mesmerized by you. He’s never seen a girl more beautiful, and he’s been with many. There’s something about you that’s caught his attention but he can’t figure out what. All he knows is that he’s seen you, and now he has to have you.

“Right, well what do you say we go somewhere more private and get to know one another?” He cocks an eyebrow at you, he can tell you wanna say yes but you’re worried. “Hey, no worries. I won’t try anything, promise” he throws his hand in the air to show you he won’t touch you. You can’t help but let out a small laugh and that sound alone has rafe melting. Your voice is like an angel and he wants to know what other sounds he can get out of you.

“I can’t just leave Ariella alone. She’s had a few drinks and she’s with some random guy.. I want to but I can’t be a bad friend” you start to walk away and Rafes heart aches, he doesn’t wanna let you go yet.

He looks over at where your friend is, she’s making out with Kelce, rafe smirks to himself. “Trust me, she’s in good hands. Kelce is a buddy of mine, he won’t do anything to her” he turns back to you, a waiting look on his face. And when you nod your head yes his heart all but does back flips. He can’t wait to get to know you better.

Taglist

@f4ll-for-you @v21sstuff @rafeysworldim19 @baby19sthings @sevenwivesofrafecameron @rxfecameronsslut @findapenny @r1vrsefx @spencerreidsrealgf @rafescokenostril @thievin-stealing @rafemotherfuckingcameron @dilvcv

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therealdisneyfan2319 · 10 months

Text

To Be Loved | Natasha Romanoff

Summary: You help Natasha open up in your relationship

Pairing: Natasha Romanoff x Male Reader

Warnings: Smut (MINORS DNI), mild language

Word Count: 2.5K

Author's Note: This was a prompt from @wandashoeforlife because I needed Nat prompts and I don't write for her enough so that's gonna change here before too long. Enjoy!

“I still don’t understand why you think the blindfold is necessary,” Natasha pouted as you led her down the hallway.

“Because I don’t want to spoil the surprise for you.”

“Isn’t dinner enough?”

“No,” you replied, pressing a kiss to the palm of her hand, still leading her carefully down the winding hallway of the compound. Dinner was only the first part of your plan: the second part was yet to be revealed. Your girlfriend had no idea what was coming, but you knew she’d be thoroughly surprised.

You hadn’t been dating all that long. Really a majority of your relationship consisted of post-training hookups. It was mainly physical, the two of you running off to some odd room or one of your apartments in order to relieve whatever stress you were dealing with. Soon enough the physical turned into something a little more. She was the one who caught feelings first. Natasha, not knowing how to tell you how she really felt, pulled away. It took Clint and Wanda practically dragging the two of you into a room and making you two talk things out before she reluctantly admitted that she really liked you.

The first time you really kissed her, it was everything everywhere all at once while simultaneously being the most intimate moment you ever experienced. Intimacy didn’t come naturally to Nat. She seemed almost uncomfortable with any sort of romantic display especially when it came to sex. There was strikingly little difference between your post-mission trysts and evenings spent alone. She wanted it the way she always wanted it: hard, fast, and rough. Loud, passionate sex with Natasha was great, but any time you tried to slow it down she pulled you out of it. Tonight, however, you wanted to give her the quintessential romantic lovemaking session.

“Is it a puppy?” she asked, stumbling over her feet as she blindly followed you.

“Nope,” you chuckled.

“Is it a kitten?”

“Guess again.”

“A parrot?”

“Nat, why on earth would I get you a parrot?”

“I don’t know,” she shrugged. “I have no idea what you got me.”

“Well yeah, that’s kinda the point of a surprise, babe.” You reached for Natasha’s other hand, carefully guiding her around the corner and down the hall.

“So why the surprise? It’s not like it’s my birthday or anything,” she remarked.

“What, am I not allowed to surprise you?”

“Y/N, you don’t have to.”

“Of course I do. You’re my girlfriend and I’m supposed to spoil you. It’s in the official boyfriend handbook.” You watched as Nat’s face blushed a bright pink, accentuated by the black eye mask you pulled over her eyes. “Alright, and we’re here.”

“Where are we?” she asked.

“You’ll see in a second,” you smirked as you unlocked the door and gently coaxed her inside. Outstretched arms stopped her before she could wander in too far. “Okay, you can take off the mask now.”

Pulling down the mask, Natasha took in her surroundings for the first time: it was your room. Dozens of tiny tea lights illuminated the space, casting dancing shadows on the wall. Fake rose petals were strewn all over the bed in the most organized fashion you could muster. Your music playlist was stacked with the most romantic jazz music you could get your hands on. Her eyes widened in confusion as she saw all the work you’d done for her.

“What’s all this?” she asked, thoroughly confused at the scene in front of her.

“It’s the other part of your surprise. A romantic evening in, just the two of us,” you explained.

“I don’t deserve all this.” Her words were barely audible as her voice dropped to a whisper. They made your heart break a little as her face sank.

“Of course you do.”

“No I don’t.” She shook her head as she pulled the mask off her forehead.

“Nat, come on. Why would you ever say that?” You stepped forward to grab her, but she pulled away.

“I’ve never done anything to deserve this.” Her stalwart facade cracked as she wrapped her arms around herself, shrinking down so much as she tried to disappear from the discomfort of the situation. “I don’t even think I deserve you.”

“Natasha. Will you, will you look at me? Please?” You coaxed her head up gently with your hand. She refused to make eye contact with you even as her face tilted up towards you. It was absolutely heartbreaking to see her like that. You loved Natasha more than anything in the world. Why couldn’t she accept that? “What’s wrong, sweetheart?”

“I’m not a good person, Y/N. I’ve done things and I’ve hurt people and…I don’t deserve to be treated like this.”

“Baby-”

“I don’t even know how to do this, whatever this is,” she admitted, motioning toward the rose-covered bed.

“You do realize none of that matters to me, right? I don’t care what you’ve done. I don’t care who you used to be. For cryin’ out loud I literally just blew up a ship with dozens of people still inside on our last mission. We’ve both done awful things, but that doesn’t mean we don’t deserve to be loved. Let me love you tonight, Nat.”

“It’s hard,” she whispered as her eyes glistened in the candlelight.

“I know,” you whispered back, running your hands through her luscious red hair. “It’s not your fault you’ve been hurt, but if we’re going to make this work then I need you to let me in, Natty. Can you at least try to let me in?”

Natasha looked up at the ceiling, blinking back the tears that were forming in the corners of her eyes. “God, why does this have to be so hard?” she asked.

“Beats me,” you chuckled. “This shit was hard enough before I became a superhero. But I wanna make us work, so can you let me in just for tonight? I can get rid of all this if you want, turn the lights back on if you want...”

“No. Keep them off. I like candlelight. But that music has to go.”

“I spent three hours putting that playlist together,” you pouted. Nat giggled, her hand trailing up to grasp yours that was on her neck.

“This is why I control the radio in the car.” You sighed, shaking your head as she teased you. You brought your free hand up to the other side of her neck, taking a step toward her as you held her.

“Let me love you tonight, Nat. Please?” you whispered against her lips. She gulped, swallowing down the lump in her throat as you stared deeply into her emerald eyes.

“Okay,” she whispered.

Taking all the care in the world, you gently leaned down and pressed your lips to hers. She practically melted into you, a deep blush spreading across her entire body. A certain tenderness bound the two of you together in that moment. It was like you were the only ones on earth.

Natasha had never allowed herself to feel such softness or tenderness before. Deep insecurity stemmed from a childhood of abuse and a lifetime of trauma. How could someone who had done such horrible things be worthy of something so beautiful? You kissing her with all the love and care in the world was new and different and wonderful. As your lips brushed against hers, she smiled at the new sensation of being adored. It made you smile, too.

Strong hands snaked down Natasha’s toned body, trailing over the curve of her toned ass and giving it a slight squeeze. She giggled as your noses touched, the subtle taste of peppermint leaving your mouth tingling. You pulled her close to you. Her body sat flush against yours as her hands rested on your chest. Natasha gazed up into your eyes while she nestled herself in your embrace. As you gazed back down at her, there was a glimmer in her eye. You couldn’t tell if it was fear or excitement or desire. Whatever it was, it hadn't been there before you kissed her.

“Can I carry you to bed?” you asked. Natasha nodded, giggling as you bent down slightly to give yourself enough leverage to lift her up.

“Don’t fall.”

“I’ve got you, baby,” you reassured as you gently placed her on the bed. The weight of her body in the middle of the bed completely messed up your meticulously arranged flower petals. Neither of you seemed to care all that much as you crawled on top of her.

A sense of nervous giddiness washed over you as your lips met tentatively. The improvised dance between your mouth and hers was one that had been done a thousand times before. This one was different. This one was a first meeting, the first dance between two souls destined for something much bigger than the two of them could imagine in the present moment. This slow, hesitant dance soon turned into a familiar exploration of each other’s mouths with your tongues. Hands soon followed, tugging and pulling at clothes until all of your garments were in a jumbled pile on the floor along with half of the rose petals.

Natasha’s arms were wrapped around your back, pulling you down into her as you ground your pelvis into hers. Your erection was throbbing from the stimulation. She rolled her hips up at the contact, whimpering as wetness pooled between her legs. You could feel your heart pounding in your throat at the anticipation of pushing yourself inside her.

“You ready?” you asked. Natasha nodded, her lower lip in her teeth as her face flushed with arousal. “Here.” You reached for her hand, guiding it down to where your cock was nestled between your bodies. Placing your hand over hers, you gently closed her hand around your length and pushed it down to the heat between her legs. She stifled a moan as you drew your tip up and down her slit, thoroughly coating it in her juices.

The two of you let out a simultaneous groan as you slid your penis inside her. Her hole stretched to accommodate your girth, a tight fit as you filled her to the brim.

“Fuck,” Natasha whimpered as she adjusted to the fullness inside her. You watched her face contort in pleasure through the candlelight. The sight of her so overcome with pleasure ignited a carnal desire inside you, but you consciously reminded yourself that this was about more than just sex. This was about showing your girlfriend how much you loved her.

As Natasha relaxed around you, you slowly began to rock your hips in and out of her. Her walls coated you in a sheen of slick with each thrust. The pace you set was slow and deliberate, pulling your cock almost all the way out before burying yourself to the hilt. She wrapped her arms and legs around you and pulled you flush against her body. The two of you were coated in a glistening layer of sweat as you rocked your hips in tandem. You buried your head in her neck, kissing the exposed skin in a futile effort to stifle your moans.

The room around you was quiet as you continued your lovemaking. Natasha held you close, whimpering and gasping as her wetness echoed throughout the room. Her fingers tangled in your hair as you left love bites up and down her neck. The purple bruises that peppered her sensitive skin were barely visible against the faint glow of the candlelight that flickered against the walls. You found it harder to stay quiet the longer you pumped yourself inside her. Nat’s walls fluttered and squeezed around your cock, the tightness keeping you buried in her cunt. Gripping the sheets with white knuckles, your lips hovered over hers as you slowed your thrusts further, relishing in the feeling of her soft, warm walls squeezing your length.

You watched as the veins in your girlfriend’s neck strained as she arched her head back against the pillow. Your ungodly slow pace was driving her absolutely insane. Every subtle movement inside of her sent throbbing waves of pleasure throughout her entire body. As your head hovered over hers, lips a whisper apart, her face contorted in pleasure as you pulled out and pushed back in. Natasha’s eyes screwed shut and her mouth gaped open as she gasped. It took all your determination to not buck your hips wildly into her. The heat spreading under your skin so quickly meant you didn’t have much time left.

Resting your forehead against hers, your breath coming in shaky pants, you slowed your pace even further and increased your force, slowly pulling your penis out of her tight grip before forcing it back in. The sound of slapping flesh joined the quiet gasps and moans echoing off the walls, your hips smacking together while your balls swung wildly behind you, stopping only when they hit Natasha’s red, swollen cunt.

As the pressure built inside you, Natasha unwrapped one of her arms from your back and reached up over her head in search of your hand that was white knuckling the sheets. Her fingers interlaced with yours. The two of you squeezed each other’s hand as your pace quickened ever so slightly, your cock pounding in and out of her tortured hole. She stared up at you with wide eyes, her mouth agape as her own orgasm grew within her core.

The coil in your stomach tightened to a precipice. There was no stopping it. Your nose bumped hers as short, airy gasps escaped your mouth. Bearing down with one final hard thrust, you emptied yourself inside of her as your entire body convulsed with overwhelming ecstasy. The feeling of your seed inside her aching core and the pulsing of your length against her walls drove Natasha to her own orgasm. She moaned against your lips as her walls clenched rhythmically around you. You groaned, collapsing into her shoulder as she milked your already sensitive member.

Your thrusts came to a gentle stop as you finished filling her to the brim. It was all you could do to lie there and not crush her while you struggled to return your breathing to its normal state. You felt a hand come up and rest in your hair.

“Are you okay?” Natasha whispered as she gently tugged at your sweaty, matted locks.

“Yeah,” you mumbled into the crook of her neck. You turned your head to look at her. Her lips were swollen and her face was flushed, her long red hair tousled from being flattened against the pillow. “You?”

“Mmhmm,” she nodded, biting her lower lip.

“I love you,” you whispered, tilting your head to kiss her softly. “I love you so much, Nat. I don’t want you to ever think that I don’t. Because I do.” She smiled at your words, fully melting into the sense of safety and love you provided. For the first time in her life, Natasha felt safe and loved. It was all you could do but hope that this would be the start of something new, something special, between the two of you.

#natasha romanoff #black widow #natasha romanoff fic #black widow fic #natasha romanoff x reader #natasha x reader #black widow x reader #natasha romanoff x male reader #natasha x male reader #black widow x male reader #natasha romanoff x y/n #x male reader #male reader #male reader insert #marvel #mcu #marvel fanfiction #therealdisneyfan2319

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inkdrinkerworld · 4 months

Note

Hello! I was wondering if I could please make a request for dealer!remus with some angst where he has feelings for the reader, but thinks she doesn’t reciprocate so he ghosts her/ stops selling to her and she gets sad because she liked him too. Then maybe they run into each other at a party and she’s getting harassed by some guy so he steps in to help her. If not it’s okay, there’s no worries! I understand you’re probably busy, I just really love your work :)

There’s a pit in your stomach when you go to the dispensary and don’t find Remus. This is second week you’ve come in and he’s not been here.

He also hasn’t been answering to your texts. You try not to take it personally when Sirius gives you five grams and three cookies with no smile or snark.

“Is Remus well?” You ask before you leave and Sirius frowns.

“Yeah, did he tell you different, doll?” You shake your head and will tears not to spring in your eyes.

“I thought that’s why he hasn’t been in or hasn’t responded to my texts.” Before Sirius can say anything you turn your back to him, “Thanks Sirius.”

You don’t see Remus till another three weeks have passed when you let your friends drag you to Marlene’s party.

You’re sitting on the sofa in the living room, a blunt hanging from your lips as your eyes drag around the room.

It’s not that this isn’t your scene, it’s more so that you usually hang with Remus at these things so you don’t really have anything to do now.

Then your eyes land on him. He looks just as good as always, and you smile when you see him- till he turns and goes the opposite direction.

There’s a clamp around your heart at that, you don’t know what you’ve done but Remus seems to be tired or done with you completely.

How fun.

You finish the blunt and start to the kitchen, ready to pillage through Marlene’s cupboards to find hidden crunchie bars or even galaxy chocolates when someone taps your shoulder.

“Hi,” the man that stops you is good looking- objectively- and he seems kind but you’re not in the mood.

“Can i help you?” You ask distractedly, really you just want to find something to munch on.

“I’ve seen you around before at these parties and you just didn’t look like you were enjoying yourself tonight so I thought you might want some company.”

You shrug his hand off your shoulder, “No thanks. M’good on my own.”

It seems like that mustn’t have sit right with the man and his hand clamps around your wrist.

“There’s no need to be prissy about it,” he starts and while you try pulling your wrist from his grip you don’t notice Remus coming up behind you.

“Think you should let ‘er go mate,” his voice is gravelly as he speaks, like he’s smoked too much in recent weeks.

“Who’re you?” The man asks and you roll your eyes, grateful for the distraction because his hold slackens and you can carry on to the kitchen.

“You alright, dove?” Remus asks as he follows behind you. He watches you look around for snacks. Your head doesn’t turn in his direction and Remus feels a punch to his gut at it.

“Perfect. Thanks for getting rid of him, but I’m fine Remus.”

It’s petty, but using his name like that makes him know you’re not happy with him. Honestly, he wouldn’t be happy with himself either.

“Will you look at me for a second?” He murmurs and you scoff.

“I’d rather not. Can we go back to pretending we hate each other? The ghosting was a good move too.”

You don’t sound yourself and Remus can feel the bile churning in his stomach at the realization that he’s been a perfect fool.

“Dove,” your hand slams on the counter.

Finally you turn to face him, “No! You don’t get to stop talking to me for gods know what reason, stop dealing to me alone and then whirl in to stop some grim guy from being a pushy prick and think we’re fine.”

“You wanted to act like we don’t know each other, so go back to it.”

Remus just stands quietly as you seethe and that makes you even more upset.

“The only good thing about your ghosting is is stifled the fucking ridiculous idea I had of you and I being more than friends. So thanks for the reality check Remus, I’ll be going now.”

When you try to walk away he stands in your way and holds your hands. “Wait,” he takes a breath, “I’m sorry. For not talking to you or explaining what was going on. That was proper stupid of me.”

You just stare at him, blank and it’s then Remus notices how you used to look at him. All heart eyes, honey smile and affection.

“Yeah it was but you don’t get to just worm your way back. You were mean and what made it worse is you couldn’t just tell me what I did wrong.”

Remus shakes his head, “You didn’t do anything wrong, dove.” He watches your eyes full with tears.

“That doesn’t make it better, Remus.” When your voice cracks he pulls you into his chest.

“I’m sorry dove, I’m sorry.” It’s all he repeats and Remus can physically feel his heart crack at the fact that he’s made you cry. “God I’ve been stupid. I thought going cold turkey from you would’ve been the best thing to help the fact that I was falling madly in love with you.”

“You could’ve just said something,” you mumble into his shirt and Remus nods. “That was stupid.”

“I’ve already conceded to that point, dove.”

“I’ve not forgiven you yet.” You say to his playfulness and Remus sighs.

His hand cups your cheeks and tips your face upwards. “How can I make it up to you and not be the idiot who made you cry?”

You hum, “I don’t know yet, but I’ll figure something out.”

#remuslupin #remus lupin #remus lupin one shot #remus lupin fanfiction #remus lupin imagine #remus lupin drabble #remus lupin blurb #remus lupin fluff #remus lupin fic #remus lupin x black!reader #remus lupin x reader #remus lupin x you #remus lupin x yn #dealer!remus #dealer!remus lupin

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thisapplepielife · 9 days

Text

Written for @subeddieweek, day five.

Today Is Not Tomorrow

Prompt: Omegaverse/Posessive | Word Count: 2043 | Rating: E | CW: Role Playing Hints of DubCon | Tags: Long-Term Relationship, Older Steddie, Role Playing in Public, Omegaverse, Heat, Teasing, Alpha Steve, Omega Eddie, A Look at Aging, Light Hurt/Comfort, Lasting Love

Eddie sits on the barstool, and he's not wearing blockers of any kind tonight. An act of defiance. He's throwing his scent all over the place, right as he's rushing headlong into his heat, and he knows it's sweet as fuck. Cloying. He knows how he smells, even if it's hard to smell something you're around everyday. He's nearly noseblind to it after all these years, but he's not totally unaware of his own scent.

And neither are the alphas in the bar, apparently, because they're circling like sharks smelling fresh blood in the water. No, that's just a little bit of slick and pheromones. Everybody's got 'em, what's the big fucking deal? Honestly.

Tonight, here in this bar, he's been touched, brushed against, and groped half a dozen times already. Is he asking for it, being here as his heat is ramping up? Maybe. But he still says no to each of them. And some take no for an answer. Some others growl at him, at each other.

Eddie is tired of this. He's just trying to have a beer, but he's surrounded by alpha bullshit this, alpha bullshit that. He's truly, and well over it by his age. He's not a young omega, hasn't been for a long fucking time, and he's definitely not in need of a savior, never has been. They're all knotheads, and while that sounds great, in theory, he remembers being young. Remembers how it was never what he actually wanted, once he got them between his thighs. Not really. He could never trust them enough to enjoy the act of submission that he's always longed for, so he learned to do without. He'd take care of himself on his own, before he'd drag home some random asshole alpha.

He wants to get held down and fucked, but not by any of these dickheads. He'll wind up bitten and bred, and no fucking thanks.

Not for the first time, he thinks if he were an alpha instead of an omega, he'd never have to put up with this.

He doesn't give a fuck, he can handle himself, he thinks, just a second before he's scruffed by the back of the neck, and he tenses just for a moment, before he goes limp in the alpha's grasp. Submitting, instantly.

Fucking godammit. He kind of hates himself for it. Maybe he can't handle it all on his own.

"You're coming home with me," the alpha commands, and Eddie's whole body melts into the alpha's voice, hand. It shouldn't work on him, it wouldn't, not usually, but it has in this instance. Jesus H. Christ.

Then he's tugged off his barstool, the alpha throwing a handful of bills on the bar, as he leads Eddie off, like he's a pup that needs to be manhandled into submission.

Maybe he's exactly that.

Maybe he wants to be.

Eddie tries to get a whiff of this alpha, to see if he even likes the smell of him, but the bar is full of alphas, and they're all mixed together in an overwhelming stench.

"What makes you think you're so goddamn special?" Eddie asks, and the alpha tightens his grip on Eddie's neck, not allowing him to move, let alone run. Not that it would matter if he did try to flee, he'd be chased, he knows he would, and easily caught, he's certain.

This alpha is bigger, stronger, and adamant. Eddie can't win against any of those things.

The alpha pushes him up against the alleyway wall, face-first, shoving his knee between Eddie's legs. Pressing upwards.

"You soaking wet for me?" he asks, close to Eddie's ear.

"I think you know the answer to that, unless your nose is busted," Eddie answers, laying his head against the filthy bricks. The knee is pressed harder, higher, and Eddie's body betrays him, releasing more slick, getting ready. Sending out a blatant invitation.

His biology, overtaking his brain.

Then the alpha spins him around, and sinks to his knees, burying his face right in Eddie's crotch, sucking in a deep breath.

It's the filthiest thing Eddie's ever experienced, and now he's even wetter than before. Throbbing with need. Want.

"It's not broken," the alpha says, and presses his face right up against him, even harder. Breathing deep and greedy.

"Do I even get a name, if you're gonna shove your nose in my crotch like a bad dog?" Eddie asks, reaching down and running his fingers through thick hair, pulling, just a little.

The alpha looks up, with big, expressive eyes.

"Alpha," he says, and Eddie glowers down at him.

"Yeah, no," Eddie snaps. "Not happening. You're not my alpha. And even if you were, I'm not into that bullshit."

He gets growled at for his trouble, and Eddie growls back. It doesn't have the bark, and definitely none of the bite, and the alpha throws his head back and laughs.

"That's cute," he finally says, and Eddie seethes.

"You're going home with me. And I'm gonna take what you desperately want me to have."

Eddie can't even argue, he's floating away at the idea. His heat finally hitting in full force, making its feelings on the situation known.

The betrayal of his own goddamn body.

He's suddenly flushed, and so fucking hot, burning up, and he needs to be out of these clothes, so he nods, and the alpha smiles, caressing his hips, before rising back up onto his feet.

"Take me home," Eddie says, and the alpha does just that.

Eddie is writhing under the alpha, flushed with desire, rolling along with his heat. Feeling drunk on it. Needing the release. Crazy with want, panting, begging, needing. Needing more. Needing everything.

Relishing the feel of the alpha's big hands pressing his wrists to the bed, holding him down, taking. And Eddie gives. Gives this alpha everything he has. All the control, all the power.

He closes his eyes and just feels. Feels his own body, feels the alpha's cock sliding in and out, feels the knot that's forming, threatening to catch and lock them together, at any minute.

And it does.

The knot catches, and the teeth sink in, biting him hard, and Eddie comes. Clenches down on the knot he's now locked to, and comes all over his own belly at the feeling of the teeth in his neck. When the alpha finally lets go, Eddie puts his hand to his neck, pressing against the wound.

"You just go around biting everyone you meet in a bar?" Eddie snaps, but he smiles.

"Only when they belong to me," Steve says, and Eddie laughs.

"You think I'm your property?" Eddie asks, raising his eyebrow, a question. A challenge.

"Oh no, I'm not that stupid. I'm not new here," Steve says, nuzzling his face against Eddie's neck. Licking at the wound.

And it makes Eddie smile. Because he does belong to Steve. Has, for a very long time. And Steve belongs to him, too. Steve's definitely not new here, so he's definitely not gonna let Steve get by with just saying that. It's just not how things work in their house.

Eddie will submit, wants to, loves to, but he damn well doesn't want that commented upon like it's a goddamn given. It's his choice to make, always has been.

Even as his body makes demands.

And now that his body has finally given in, gotten what it wanted, the foggy feeling has been snatched away. Too fast. Too abrupt. It never used to be this way.

Before, he could ride the wave of his heat for hours, for days, lost. Adrift. Steve taking care of him, such good care, being inside him, day and night. Holding him down, fucking him, loving him, and keeping his omega desires beyond sated.

Because he trusts Steve. His husband. His mate. His alpha.

His body would be filled, and loved, and fucking worshipped. And he could float off into space, indefinitely, while it was happening.

And now his body is betraying him.

These days, after he comes one fucking time, it's like the dial on his heat is turned from eleven down to zero. From blaring heavy metal, to complete radio silence in an instance. No pleasant buzzing in his brain to be found anywhere, only the ringing in his ears, left behind with the sudden absence of it. Like he'd hadn't been lost in his heat, just minutes ago.

It sucks.

It'll start buzzing again later, slowly picking up for round two, probably, hopefully, but the harsh change right now threatens to drag him low.

He misses what once was.

He clutches at Steve's back.

"Watching all those alphas approaching you, thinking they had a chance," Steve says, giving the barest roll of his hips, all he can manage while they're locked together in this way. It probably hurts Steve, but he does it anyway, and Eddie moans at the tugging sensation at his opening.

It brings him back to Steve.

He's so full. So taken care of. So loved.

And has been for years, decades.

"You got jealous?" Eddie asks.

"Always," Steve says, "they don't get to touch you. Scent you. That's mine. You're all mine."

And Steve's cock must agree, because it gives another spurt, filling Eddie even further with come.

"Easy there, hot shot, you're old. You'll dehydrate yourself," Eddie says, and Steve laughs.

But then Eddie tells him, voice serious, "I'm all yours."

And Steve growls, low in his chest, possessive.

"You better not be growling at me, sweetheart," Eddie teases, and Steve rolls it over into a purr, smiling. "That's better."

He'll submit to Steve in bed any day of the week, wants to, and feels fucking amazing when he does. But he's still Eddie, and that will never change. He's an omega, but he's his own goddamn man, out of this bed.

Luckily, Steve seems to love that about him. Has always loved that about him.

Eddie thought he was a bad omega in his youth, and was sure he didn't give a fuck about any of it. Then, along came Steve.

He's not a bad omega, because he's Steve's perfect one. He's been told that enough, to believe it to be true.

Steve's knot eventually goes down, and then he slides out of Eddie. He's immediately down between Eddie's legs, fussing, "You okay?"

Eddie's okay, he's just getting old, and he can't take what he could at twenty or even thirty or forty. He's sure his days of getting heats are coming to an end any day now, as sporadic as they are anymore, and in some respects, he feels like, good fucking riddance.

In others, he'll miss it. Miss what it is, what it might mean, for them as a pair.

Steve's ruts still come like clockwork, and biology isn't fair.

Eddie worries that he might not even get to submit to Steve if there's no heady undercurrent telling him to, guiding him.

He worries he won't be as attractive, as alluring to Steve, once he's no longer throwing down the major pheromones.

"Where'd you go?" Steve asks, taking a break from running his tongue all around Eddie's opening, cleaning him up. Soothing any hurts.

"Worrying that maybe this was the last time," Eddie whispers, and squeezes his eyes shut.

"Honey," Steve says, crawling up Eddie's body, laying on top of him, heavy and protective. Giving him the feeling of security that comes in no other way, can't.

"I'm good," he tells Steve, then smiles into Steve's neck, "You're a good alpha."

And Steve purrs at the praise, at the love, and it rattles against Eddie's chest, soothing him. Making all his worries slip away. Eddie knows that's what Steve gets off on the most. Their love, their bond.

And that's going nowhere. Heat, no heat.

Nothing can change their love, their connection, and Eddie melts into the sheets, and just relaxes under Steve's body.

"Do you want me to stay on top of you?" Steve asks, and Eddie does.

"Please," Eddie answers. Wrapping his arms around Steve's middle, squeezing him tight.

Today is not tomorrow, and it's not yesterday either, and submitting to that fact means he's just gonna stay right here. In the present.

With Steve.

If you want to write your own, or see more entries for this challenge, pop on over to @subeddieweek and follow along with the fun! 🖤

Notes: This was my first foray into writing omegaverse, ever. I enjoyed the new challenge, but it quickly turned into a bit of a character study on aging without my permission, lol. I don't even know if the menopause equivalent has a counterpart in omegaverse lore. Welp, it does here, I guess.

My other fics for this challenge week:

Day One Day Two Day Three Day Four Day Six Day Seven

#subeddieweek #steddie fic #omegaverse #sub eddie munson #thisapplepielife: subeddieweek #thisapplepielife: short fic #omega eddie munson #alpha steve harrington

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adonis-koo · 1 year

Text

sweet nothing • 5

(In which he is most definitely sick)

↳ Description: being a guest at the Jeon Estate after a mishap of being kidnapped and dragged into your brothers affairs isn’t all that bad. Truth be told it brings you a lot closer to the mobster and owner of the estate Jeon Jungkook himself.

His two rules are simple, don’t cause trouble and don’t give him a hard time. Somehow you manage to constantly do both in the most endearing way despite being pregnant and waddling around most of the time.

↳ Pairing: Jungkook/reader, ???/reader

↳ Genre: slice of life AU, mafia!AU, pregnancy, there’s like…a little bit of a plot but not a lot, future smut? maybe? it's very domestic!

Word Count: 2k

Previous | Next

Note: I'm back AGAIN, simply because I can't get enough of these two!!! they're my life line these days tbh! i know I said there wasn't a lot of plot to this BUT....theres definitely some plot if you squint

“Are you sick?”

Jungkook looked horrendous, it was evident he hadn’t showered yet, as his hair was somewhat oily, wild and unbrushed, his voice was raspy and the moment he greeted you good morning, it was evident he was congested.

“I don’t get sick.” Jungkook replied, but his voice alone gave away the discomfort he was feeling, he sat at the small table attempting to eat but after two bites and the pure agony of attempting to swallow, he gave up.

Your lips parted before closing once more, a sigh escaping you, “If only that were the case,” this had been your concern since he had come home late a few days ago, soaked to the bone and freezing cold.

Yesterday when he had taken you out you noticed he had been sniffling, but aside from that he sounded totally find, today he looks like he had been hit with a car.

Jungkook rolled his eyes, “I have three board meetings today, a stack of paper work in my office that needs to be signed and a deal tonight at the Red Light, I can’t afford to be sick.”

“Jungkook,” You chastised softly, “Do you even hear yourself? I don’t think anybody is gonna want to be around you when you sound like that. What are your symptoms?”

“I’m not-”

“Yes you are!” You spoke over him, your expression shifting into anger at his stubbornness, “whether you like it or not! You’re sick. Now tell me so I can figure out whether I need Jimin to call the doctor or not.”

Jungkook groaned as he leaned back in his chair, crossing his arms in thought before he reluctantly spoke, “My throat feels like it’s on fire. Even speaking feels like I’m swallowing a dagger.”

“And I have a massive headache,” He ushered softly, eyes closing as he rubbed his head.

Your expression softened once more, “Why don’t you go lay down? I’ll call for Jimin to get the doctor and make sure you’re alright,”

“I am alright.” Jungkook replied, puffed up at your words, one glare however shut him up.

He tiredly blinked as he sunk into his seat, “I can’t just take the day off.”

“Then do what you can from bed.” You said with a frown, “But you’ll make others sick and yourself worse if you go out today.”

He said nothing got a long moment before he shook his head and got out of his chair, your eyes followed him across the room until he left, somewhat surprised at his lack of argument.

Yeonjun who had been digging through a folder off to the side briefly glanced up to the closed door and then to you, “That’s a first.”

“Pardon?” You asked.

He smiled, “Jungkook letting someone boss him around. It’s a rather nice change of pace.”

You scratched your cheek, uncertain of how to take the his words, your lack of reply only made Yeonjun continue though, “Y’know he used to..,” He cut himself off, as if realizing it wasn’t his place to meddle, “Sorry, I won’t bring it up. I’m sure neither of you want to dig up the past.”

The past…You gave a sad smile, picking at your food, “It’s alright, there’s nothing to dig up, Jungkook was a nice acquaintance back before I was pregnant, if you could even call him that. Nothing more…Yoongi is his partner, right?”

Yeonjun frowned, looking away warily before he eventually nodded, “You’ve met?”

You shook your head, “Only once, a long time ago, informally might I add.”

“Do you want me to ring for Jimin?” Yeonjun decided to change the subject, “That way you can finish eating?”

You nodded with a grateful smile, “Yes! That would be quite helpful.”

Jungkook looked downright annoyed as the doctor poked and prodded at him before he had finally come to a conclusion.

Turning to you as it was evident Jungkook was not in a good mood, “The good news is that it’s only a case of tonsillitis.”

You sighed in relief before you asked, “Is there bad news?”

“It’s a bacterial infection, so we’ll need to put him on antibiotics. Lots of rest and warm, soft foods will help, he should be better in a few days at most once the antibiotics are in his system.” The doctor gave a warm smile.

“Few days?” Jungkook’s brows pinched together in annoyance.

“I’ll be sure to keep him rested.” You cut over him with a smile, “Thank you Doctor Choi.”

“Of course Y/n, I will see you on Friday for your check up.” He gave a short bow before existing the room.

“I can’t be in bed for a few days!” Jungkook immediately piped up, though you didn’t miss the slight wince in expression at the obvious pain he was feeling.

“Doctors orders.” You gave him a sweet smile as you held your hands up.

He slumped back, glaring through his bangs at nothing in particular, “Can you at least get my laptop?”

You let out a noise of amusement as you stood up, one hand on your stomach, the other on your dully aching back, “I didn’t realize having strep throat made your legs not work.”

“You want me in bed or not?”

“I’m going, I’m going.” You giggled as you waddled out of the room and into the open space of his office, digging through paperwork you made sure nothing was messed up, before finding his laptop charger and eventually finding the source as well.

Opening the cracked door to his room however you smiled softly as the sight of him laid back down, knocked out once again, a soft snore even escaping him as you tutted, walking over you set his laptop on his nightstand before tenderly pulling his covers back over his shoulder.

His expression looked so delicate when he was asleep, lips parted slightly and brows relaxed, tenderly you brushed your fingers through his hair before catching yourself.

Your hand snapping back to your chest as if it had been burned, swallowing hard you shook your head, you had been thinking about the past a lot more these days.

You couldn’t help but wonder if Jungkook did the same.

Frowning you shook your head before you exited his room, there was no point dwelling on the what-if’s after all.

Most of the day had gone by quietly, there was something different about the estate when Jungkook was home, even if he was sleeping away or working in his room, his energy still filled the air and brought a comforting feeling to whatever you did.

Eventually the afternoon passed and an idea had overtaken you.

“What are you doing?” Yeonjun paused at the door as he cocked his head to the side, brimming with curiosity.

You turned towards Yeonjun with a grin, “You can’t tell Jungkook.”

He sighed, “I hate when you start a sentence with that.”

You pouted, “I’m making him soup!”

Yeonjun looked relieved, “Oh…okay, better than I anticipated, it does smell good here.” He glanced around the empty kitchen, “But the kitchen staff are already preparing supper.”

You crossed your arms once more, “Well, that doesn’t change that I’m making him something to eat. There’s nothing like home cooking when you’re sick!”

Yeonjun held up his hands, “If it’s from you I’m sure he’ll love it….” He shuffled closer before peering over your shoulder, “Will there be extra?”

“Are you asking for a bowl?” You grinned.

“Only if there’s extra.”

“There’s plenty.” You replied with an excited smile, giving a little happy dance as you grabbed a set of bowls, proudly pouring your soup before handing one to Yeonjun who looked like a little kid snatching it from your hands.

Setting the other bowl on a tray you tided it up with a nice hot ginger plum tea and a few napkins, “Tell me how it tastes! I’m gonna run this up to his room.”

“Don’t you want some?” Yeonjun had already grabbed a spoon, slurping noodles.

You grimaced, “Honestly the taste of chicken broth makes me wanna vomit, back when I had morning sickness the smell alone had me gagging.”

“That’s a shame because this is honestly the best soup I’ve ever had- second actually,” Yeonjun smiled at his bowl, “Reminds me of my mom’s when I was sick as a kid.”

You only smiled at his words before briefly glancing down at your stomach, large and round, you could only hope you’d make the best soup your baby would love one day.

“Well nothing can beat mom’s soup, hopefully it’ll be second best for Jungkook too.” You laughed a little as you walked past Yeonjun, carefully holding the tray.

You didn’t know much about Jungkook, truthfully, sure you had talked pre-pregnancy, but it always…you huffed, shaking your head.

This had been happening more frequently, memories of the past would surface and you’d have to shove them back down, the past was the past for a reason. You could only assume they kept coming up because well…

It was Jungkook.

Knocking on his door you heard a scratchy ‘come in’ before opening the door.

Jungkook was sat up in bed, looking tired as he typed away on his laptop, eyes dragging towards you before you noticed them brighten just a little.

His eyes then dropped to the tray before he stiffened, “Why are you carrying that?”

“I can-” You couldn’t even finish your sentence before Jungkook had already gotten out of bed, swaggering up to you before grabbing the tray.

“Ask Yeonjun next time.” It was difficult to take his chided words serious when he was rasping this hard, a wince visible on his face as he continued, “If you drop that-”

“How many times do I have to tell you,” You huffed, “I’m pregnant, not dying.” Your expression softened a little as a small smile tugged on your lips at the sight of his floppy bangs covering his eyes in a sulky manner, “Lay back down, I made you something to sip on. I always loved warm broth when I was younger.”

Jungkook set the tray on his nightstand as he sat back down at the edge of the bed, staring down at the steaming bowl, his expression nonpulsed for a long moment.

“You do like soup right?” You shuffled a little nervous at his quietness.

“Who the fuck doesn’t like soup?” He quipped, “I just…” He glanced away, “You didn’t have to do that…”

“Of course I did!” You replied immediately, “If I don’t then who will?”

Jungkook parted his lips before closing them, sighing but not saying anything else as he propped his nightstand up, it extended upwards before turning towards him, he paused before taking a sip, “Well don’t just stand there.”

You glanced around the room, not much had changed, a few chairs still against the wall, a particular spot open to the wall, opposite to a mirror on the other side of the room hanging.

“Have you considered redecorating?” You asked as you rounded the bed, choosing to sit beside him on the empty side.

Groaning you rested your back against the headboard as your hands dropped to your stomach.

Jungkook shrugged beside you, “Not much reason too. I thought it looked fine.”

He plopped the spoon in his mouth as his eyes shut. He was never a very expressive person, but there was something about that satisfied look on his face that made you smile.

“It’s alright, it's just…” You trailed off, suddenly feeling as though you weren’t as ready to have this conversation as you thought you were.

“Just what?” Jungkook’s brows furrowed.

You forced a smile as you shook your head, “Nothing.”

The same way you last remembered it.

You glanced at the that small open space of the wall between both the chairs, how cold it felt against your back when…

Jungkook could obviously sense the uncomfortable silence, “Thank you.”

“For what?”

“The soup.”

A somewhat hesitant smile tugged on your lips, “Of course. I’m…” Your smile became disheartened as you stood up, “I’m gonna start preparing for bed, you should get some more rest.”

Jungkook frowned but said nothing, though it looked like he wanted to, he only nodded.

You left his room feeling your feet drag as you closed your eyes, this feeling was something you were used to when it came to him.

This feeling of always dancing around one another, never talking about the tension in the room, except now it was even more evident then before.

You’d have to talk about it eventually.

I forgot all about my tags last chapter so I apologize!

taglist: @btseverafter7 @scuzmunkie @zae007live @cynicalbitch666 @somehowukook @bartisedrew @princess-sunshyn @jungk-shook-iiee @chickpea-jimin @hoseokteardrop @guk97butterfly @givemethemaknaes16 @bxcndd

#bts #jungkook x reader #jungkook x y/n #jungkook imagine #bts imagine #bts x reader #bts fanfic #mafia!jungkook

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anonymooseforever007 · 1 year

Text

Man of My Dreams

(Alfie Solomons x female reader)

Summary: Y/N is one of the newest secretaries at the Shelby Company and she's always eager to make her bosses proud. But one night, when Tommy give her the order to watch one of his business partners.... maybe she took the order "by any way you can" a bit to literally....

A/N: Hi y'all! There's nothing graphic, but this fic does contain a short mention of forced prostitution by some aweful bosses over their secretaries, but nothing happens here. And aside from usual Peaky Language and sexual innuendos I don't think there are any other TW's for this story! I was gonna post this later but I'm pretty please with how it turned out so here it is now 😂 I just wanted to write a nervous reader meeting cheeky Alfie! Enjoy!❤️

WC- 3.2k

Main Masterlist

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

"WAIT! Don't go! You can't!"

"And why is that Treacle?"

".....because I love you?"

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

(A little while earlier)

Mr. Shelby had given you one job. Only one job left today and he said it was vey important that you complete it at all costs and by any means necessary. If you failed there maybe be a lot of trouble and not just for you. But what was that job?

Keep Alfred Solomons inside the office...

It was after closing time at the betting shop and while almost everyone else had gone home you were still working on a few papers Mr. Shelby wanted done by tomorrow. And while they wouldn't take too long, you were still a newer secretary at the company and rather eager to please your bosses. You were also one of the younger secretaries and this was one of your first jobs that consisted of more than stocking shelves or sweet talking rude customers in the bakery. And while everything had gone smoothly so far, you still found yourself accepting the extra work from time to time in order to get in your boss's good graces. He still paid for the time of course, very well actually. But as you'd learn today, late office hours often came with unexpected surprises too.

One of these began when Mr. Shelby suddenly walked through the main floor towards his office. Only he wasn't alone. Walking a few paces behind him was another man. You'd recognized him as Alfie Solomons, an imposing man who owned the "Bakery" that Arthur Shelby was always grumbling about. You hadn't actually spoken to him or even met him yet. The most you'd gotten was rumors from the other women in the shop about all the terrible things he'd done. Even worse than some of the rumours about your boss. But tonight it appeared that would change. You didn't miss the quick glance made towards you by the Camden Town man when Mr. Shelby passed your desk with a quick acknowledgment, before heading straight to his office.

Only six minutes into the important meeting, Mr. Shelby had been called to the Garrison to deal with a fight started by his brothers. He had been annoyed to no end at having to fix yet another one of his brothers' impulsive decisions, but seeing as Polly was helping Esme with her new baby, he was the only one left to go. Well, the only one Arthur and John would listen to if they were half as drunk as Finn said. And Finn himself was also being dragged back to the bar by Tommy to help control his brothers too, so he couldn't watch the other gangster either. Even if he lacked his brother's stomachs for fighting, Finn still had almost a head over each of them and could hold them back well enough if needed.

So Tommy brought him along too, leaving you behind with the order to keep the other gangster company until he returned. It didn't matter that Alfie had already agreed to waiting until Tommy came back. Or in his words "graciously relented more of his precious time" in the name of "proof of his good will." Tommy still didn't want him snooping around the office while he was gone. So he'd given you strict instructions to keep the gruff man in his office until he got back. You were also to make sure he didn't mess with much in there either.

You'd never anticipate just how astray that one plan would take you...

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

"Hi. I'm Y/N, one of the secretaries. I hope you don't mind, Mr. Shelby wanted me to look at his typewriter and clean up the office a bit before I left. One of the keys has been a bit sticky lately. So don't let me both you, and if you need anything let me know and I can get it for you."

You'd figured that had been a pretty decent thing to open with. It was a good excuse for staying in the office, and Tommy had wanted you to fix the key for a while now. But you started to rethink your opener, as all you got in return was a brief nod from Mr. Solomons who continued to read over the paper in his hands. Pursing your lips in a line and feeling slightly awkward now, you just nodded to yourself moving to Mr. Shelby's typewriter. You did get a questioning stare after that when you picked up the device and moved it to the table in the middle of the room. That was the table between Mr. Solomon's desk and the door. It meant you had a better chance of stopping him should he try to bolt. Didn't mean it was a big chance though. No, you didn't doubt this man could easily pin you if he tried, and you hoped in the back of your mind that he really did plan to stay as agreed. And so, glancing at the unchanging position of your charge every few minutes, you set to work on pulling apart the typewriter...

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Silence.

Pure uncomfortable silence had descended upon the small office nearly half an hour after Mr. Shelby left. Well, you found it uncomfortable, but Alfred seemed to have no issue with the quiet that settled over the room. By this point he'd moved from the chair he was originally sitting on to the one behind him, closer to the bookshelf. Which happened to be directly across from your own seat.

He sat, unbothered, still reading the same contract he had when you came in. He must of gone through it twelve times by now. Occasionally, he'd mumble under his breath, causing your head to shoot up, waiting for something to happen with bated breath. One of these times, to slight humiliation, your head had shot up expecting to see him still looking down at the papers...only to be met with his own piercing eyes. Neither of you spoke at that moment, you just stared eyes wide with surprise while his remained unreadable. The moment was broken by the sound of a siren out of the window causing you to look over. You didn't notice the slight smile the briefly passed the man's face.

It had been fifteen minutes since that moment and you were finally starting to relax, thinking that maybe this really wouldn't be as bad as you thought. Keeping him here didn't seem too bad.

Until, without warning Alfie stood up and quickly walked towards the desk. Thinking he was trying to look at Mr. Shelby's private papers you also shot up. But when he turned back around you saw he was only grabbing a new pen, leaving you standing there... once again staring. He must really be starting to believe you're a creep of some sorts, you thought. Trying to save face you'd headed towards the desk yourself, under the guise of grabbing a piece of paper for the now fixed typewriter. You didn't expect him to, but you were glad the your company didn't point out the stack of paper sitting right next to the machine in the table. And with that, you went back to your seat, trying to calculate how many drinks you'd need after this.

You couldn't explain it, but for some reason you felt like you were doing this wrong. There was some source of nerves buzzing in the back of your head that just wouldn't settle. You chalked it up to this being the "most important" job you'd been given yet, aside from when Polly had you watch the empty shop for an hour one night after locking up so she could chew one of her nephews out for their latest mess. You had been so nervous about someone trying to break in, you'd almost concussed poor Arthur with his own stapler when he'd come in the back door. The only thing that saved him was the fact he actually fell back on his ass, terrified, because you'd popped out so closely to him. You were also lucky he happened to be sober and registered it was you before fighting back. Neither of you mentioned that night to the others.... and neither of you ever would.

The silence continued for a few endless minutes longer before it was finally broken. Alfie groaned lightly as he got to his feet. Luckily you hadn't stood up this time and were able to slow the rise of your head, looking up at him slightly concerned. Even if you didn't know the man, you'd noticed the slight wince he'd made when he stood up, using the couch arm to stabilise his ascent as he reached for his cane by the table.

"Right. Now that's enough of that poppet. You said if I wanted anything you'd give it to me correct? And now I know what I want so you're gonna help me?"

Eyes wide in shock, both from the fact your burly companion spoke, and of what he spoke, you shot up once again in slight panic. Shit Shit Shit. Not only had his sudden actions threw you off your axis, but now he was also looking at you with a stare that reminded you of how John looked at Esme many times before they'd disappeared to the back rooms for half an hour or so. Esme usually came out looking brilliant as usual, but John wasn't one to hide his messy clothes or the marks on his neck. And now Alfred Solomons seemed to be giving you the same look as his eyes roved your body. He tilted his head and took another step forward, indicating that you still hadn't answered his question.

"I...I did say that yes. What do you need Mr. Solomons?"

"Well let's not dance around anymore. Call me Alfie or Alfred if you'd like treacle. I've seen you starting at me," Alfie moved around the table until he was only a few steps away, "I think you know exactly what I want. I think you know exactly how this is suppose to play out. Your boss leaving you here as 'company' for little ole me? You know what happens now right?"

The last words were spoken so closely you could feel his breath against your face. Your breath hitched realising what he meant. No. It couldn't be that. You knew Mr. Shelby wanted you to keep his business partner company, but surely he didn't mean that kind of company. Your boss wouldn't do that right? You'd never even met the man before today and he wanted you to....

"Show me where the bathroom is why don't you? I've been needing a piss since the trip up."

Your entire body seemed to relax hearing those words. Yes, Alfred Solomons was a very handsome man, the kind you often fantasised with your friends about meeting one day. But that didn't mean you had any desire to sleep with the man for your boss's benefit. You'd heard about monsters who forced that from their poor secretaries. 'A sweeter part of the business deals' is what some of them wanted. Men like that disgusted you, and you were relieved your boss wasn't that way. If he was though, you believed you'd actually have shot him yourself for such a suggestion. Yes, you had a habit of being quiet and were often anxious about if you were correctly doing your job, but you'd be damned if any man thought he could treat you that way. Your father had taught you how a man should respect a woman and your mother gave you a gun if he didn't. A gun that was currently locked in your nightstand, but nonetheless you figured you'd have time to grab the stapler on Tommy's desk if you needed to. Though now that Solomons had brought it up, the idea wouldn't leave your mind. After all, it was just you and Mr. Solomons in the office. Mr. Shelby wasn't back yet and there was no telling how long he'd be. What if he got to you before you reached the stapler?

"It's alright dove, I'm not gonna hurt ya," Alfie's words broke through your thoughts once again, and you'd nodded this time hearing the truth in his words. He'd noticed you'd relaxed upon his last demand, only to tense up a bit in thought moments later. Based on your quick glance towards the stapler on Tommy's desk, he could tell you were now thinking of another request he'd might have made. One that honestly he wouldn't have minded indulging in he thought, taking another quick look at the woman before him. But he didn't because of the uncertain look in your eye and the scolding voice of his late mother telling him off for what he'd just done.

He knew it was wrong of him to imply such a thing, especially when he'd only just met you and when you seemed nervous as it was. And for a man who rarely regrets his actions, he did feel a slight hint of guilt for scaring you. His mother would have tore him a whole new asshole if she'd heard him make such a comment, implying what the young woman practically had no choice to do. Given, he certainly had made many comments like those before and they were often eagerly accepted and lead to quite a few passionate nights while Cyril was sent home with Ollie... But that didn't mean now was the time for them. Not when it was late at night alone in Tommy Shelby's office the his secretary he'd met forty five minutes ago. Wouldn't that be a story to hold over the shorter gangster though? The time he bent Tommy's new secretary over the man's own desk in under an hour. Alfie felt the seat of his pants tighten slightly at that idea, but tried to push it off because it still wasn't the time for that.

"The bathroom is this way."

Your words broke him out of his thoughts and Alfie looked over to see you standing by the office door you'd been guarding so "intensely" the whole time. Like your time in the office, the way to the bathroom was also silent. You walked Alfie all the way up to the door, and he was half surprised you didn't accompany him to actual toilet seat.

After a few moments standing awkwardly outside the door, feeling like you sister waiting for her five year old son, Alfie finally came out again. He didn't even wait for you as he made his way back through the main floor. But instead of cutting a straight path through the other desks like before, he was weaving his way around and between the tables. Sometimes he'd pause and look at the papers on a seat even though they were likely just blank log pages, everything else having been put away for the night. Then he'd straighten up again and travel a completely different direction than before. And because you wanted to make sure he wouldn't take anything off the other desks, you followed him.

Up and down and around. If someone were to walk into the company just now, they'd have seen what looked like a two person game of tag....One you seemed to be loosing. Finally he reached the door of Tommy's office again, stopping so suddenly, you almost ran into him.

"Well that was a rush wasn't it poppet? Had to get me daily exercise in didn't I?"

The intimidation you felt from this man was finally starting to wear off. All of the sudden the mood of environment changed again. Alfie sighed and shrugged his shoulders like he'd made a final decision.

"Right. That's really enough of that poppet. Seems your Boss is a no show and I'm a busy man," Alfie stated as he gathered up the papers he's been looking at. You froze, watching him stand up and make his way to the door. Shit shit shit. He was joking again right? He was suppose to stay put. But now he's moving towards the door and doing the very thing he wasn't suppose to do. Why was he leaving now? He said he'd stay. Shoot. You wanted to go back to the uncomfortable silence from before.

You looked around the room for a reason to keep him there. But aside from Tommy's stapler, you didn't see any means of holding him back. Besides it wasn't like the stapler would be of much use. Tommy always forgot to refill it when the staples were gone and had a bad habit of stealing yours and never giving it back. Sure, he technically owned every stapler in the building, but you were still very proud of your own little tool. It hardly ever got jammed. But now it was no where in sight and Tommy's stapler was as usual, empty, meaning unless you wanted to beat Alfie over the head with it, you were out of luck. Sure, you could probably toss it at him as a distraction and then roll the desk chair into his bad hip, but that just felt mean. Arthur would absolutely love it and might have given you a raise for doing it even, but there was a larger part of you that spoke against hitting a man in his war wound. That just felt like a special type of cruel. But it meant you were left with no other option but to witness Alfie walk out the door. As you watched, Mr. Shelby's words flew through your head, talking about how important it was for Alfie to stay until he returned and how you need to keep Alfie there at all costs. Suddenly, an idea hit you.

"WAIT! Don't go! You can't!"

"And why is that Treacle?" The words came out absentmindedly, Alfie already focused on what he'd do when he got home.

".....because I love you?"

Alfie's hand was on the door when he froze, hearing your almost desperate plea. Spinning around as much as he could with his hip, he faced you again. Confusion covered his face, quickly replaced by an almost cocky amusement.

"You love me?"

"Yes," you nodded somewhat confidently," I've loved you since the moment I first met you."

Alfie, tilted his head and took a step closer, raising and eyebrow.

"Well poppet, considering moment I met ya was an hour ago, I'd say it's a love that won't take long to get over."

He turned again but this time you shoved yourself infront of the door before he could grab it.

"No it's not!"

"It's not?"

Now Alfie was confused. He'd have remembered meeting a pretty face like yours before, especially it it accompanied your rather memorable personality, you'd shown today. On the other hand, you were cursing yourself out internally, berating yourself for the impulsive lie. Why didn't you just grab the stapler? Scrambling to cover yourself now, you delved deeper into your story.

"It's not. The first time we met was... it was... at.... no by.... It was by..... in .in in.... IN MY DREAMS!! The first time we met was in my dreams and I've been in love with you since then!! Yes that's it!"

You nodded vigorously, smiling, hoping he'd believe you. He didn't obviously, he knew you were still trying to follow your boss's orders.... but damn was this fun to watch. Alfie raised an eyebrow moving a step closer again.

"Are you saying I'm the man of your dreams poppet?"

"Yes! Absolutely. I think about you every night."

"You do?" Alfie was only a step away now. "What exactly about me do you think dove?"

You thought for a moment, scanning his body for things to talk about, not that it would be hard, but you felt a little pressured here. If Alfie moved any closer his beard would brush you chin.

"Beard.... Your beard is fluffy, and looks soft," you started," and your stance is...like a sturdy man's stance..you have pretty eyes too...and you have arms... I like arms. You look like you'd give good hugs... or could like make my bed," Alfie bit his lip, trying not to laugh. "Also legs, you have legs, and a cane for your hip. You could like do stuff with the cane ... maybe I don't know. Some people may like that. I know people into that." You had no clue what your were saying at this point, just rambling and Alfie didn't know if it was embarrassing or enduring. But before you could delve deeper into your hole, he stopped you.

"Alright poppet. I get it don't I? You're madly in love with me and the idea of me leaving just breaks your heart, don't it?"

"Yes?...." You nodded, not believing that he was believing it. Maybe?... "It breaks my heart and that's why you can't leave. You have to stay with me. In here. In this office....So you can't leave. Because I absolutely love you with all my heart and if you were to go I wouldn't know what to do. I'm just lost without you Alfred Solomons. You are the man of my dreams an..."

"Y/N, What the fuck?"

Startled by Finn's voice you cursed, turning around to see not only the youngest Shelby, but Tommy, Arthur, John, and Michael staring at the scene before them. Evidently during your "heartfelt" speech you hadn't noticed them arrive back to the office. Nor had you seen them opening Tommy's door, only to hear the last bit of you professing your "love" for the man who'd screwed them over more times than John had kids....which was to say a lot. Tommy's eyes met yours in confusion and slight concern as your mouth opened and closed like a fish, unable to provide an explanation. When he said keep Alfie under control he meant, just make sure the man didn't piss in the whiskey decanters or draw horns on Arthur's picture. He wasn't sure why that involved professing your love. In the back of his mind, it passed that you could be a spy, and Tommy honestly hoped that wasn't the case. He liked you, Lizzie never let him take her stapler. A drunken John just smiled in amusement, pleased with the free entertainment. Meanwhile, Finn and Michael were silently making faces at each other, arguing over who'd grab Arthur's legs, and who'd get arms if he decided to act on the dangerous glare he was giving Alfie. He wasn't actually drunk, but Arthur saw you like another Ada, and he didn't like the idea of Alfie romancing you. Arthur also had a deep seated despise for Alfie in general, but everyone knew that. Now they were all looking at your for an explanation.

Looking over your shoulder, the stapler was still empty.

Perfect....

#peaky blinders x reader #alfie solomons x reader #alfie solomons imagine #peaky blinders imagine #alfie solomons #peaky blinders

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thefallennightmare · 8 days

Text

The Promise-Andy Biersack

*gif created by me. feel free to use, simply give credit*

Pairings: Andy Biersack x OFC

Warnings: smut, language, angst(lots of it), a smidge of fluff, mentions of abuse, alcoholism.

Summary: High school was supposed to be some of the best years of a teenager's life; except for River. Those four years were hell, the only one that got her through it was her best friend, Andy. She thought he'd be by her side after graduation but after one night of giving each other something so treasured, life took both of them in different directions.

Almost ten years later, River and Andy meet again in a way neither of them expected.

Authors Note: This is my first time writing Andy Biersack but I'm very excited! As of now, it is a one-shot but might consider continuing it if people are interested!

Tags: @thescarlettvvitch @mitchhbitch @concreteangel92 @flowery-mess @cookiesupplier @poppy-in-the-woods @viofcrows @sprokat @srorgana1 @bloody-delusion-expert

“You don’t ever have to be alone, River,” his soothing voice cooed in my ear as he cupped my cheek.

I looked up at him through the tears and choked on a sob. “Promise you’ll stay with me?”

He smiled that smile I fell in love with years ago. “I promise.”

The sounds of yelling pulled me out of my thoughts in time to see a group of teenagers running past me on the street, youthful smiles on their faces.

If they only knew what the future for them held.

With the setting sun grazing over the streets of Hollywood as people made their way home from school or work, I was headed to work with my camera bag hanging on my shoulder and phone in my hand. I had the Maps app up giving me directions where I needed to go. It was going to be a long night at work for this music video shoot and I was already on my third cup of coffee, the feeling of caffeine still not flowing through my system.

I spent the morning and afternoon bouncing between different shoots from clients and when I remembered I had booked this job taking pictures of a band's music video tonight, I cut the last photoshoot short by only a few minutes to make it in time.

The company that booked me for this video shoot, Industrialism Films, didn’t tell me much about who the band was. They just told me to show up at seven p.m. and start working as soon as I was set up. It was going to be an all-night event and I needed to make sure to get shots of everyone in the band.

Hence the third cup of coffee.

It also hadn't helped that my mind had been plagued with memories of high school even ten years after graduation. Usually, I was great at pushing away those awful memories but the last few nights, those images of my past life kept clawing at me, dragging me down to the depths. I spent so long trying to crawl out of it and breathe that fresh air I desperately craved those four years of hell.

The bullying.

Eating alone in the bathroom stalls.

The feeling of being so alone, I cried myself to sleep every night.

The desperation of my home being a haven away from the mocking at school, only to have it worse there.

Every single day of high school was miserable; except for one person.

Him.

My best friend and first everything; Andy.

Until he left you to deal with the beatings alone so he could succeed with his band.

Screwing my eyes shut tight to forget the sound of my dad's skin on mine, I turned the corner, and a large church and steps came into view. There were ropes blocked off around the perimeter, keeping outsiders away. As I reached a security guard, I pulled out my I.D. to show him.

“River Murray. I’m the photographer,” I said.

The guard glanced down to my I.D. then to the list in his hands and with a gruff of response, he let me walk past the ropes.

“Have a great night,” I mumbled under my breath.

Bodies were moving everywhere, and people were screaming over one another, but I was able to find the director of the shoot pretty quickly. He showed me a trailer where I could set up my things and once I was settled, I could start working. They didn’t care what pictures I shot, just as long as I got a lot of the band.

“Who’s the band?” I asked Vincent, the director while setting my camera bag on the table inside the trailer.

“Bloody veils? No that’s not right,” he scratched at the beard on his chin, trying to remember. “I don’t know. It's some metal band. I’ve only met them once before but they’re nice guys. It’s for their song Saviour II.”

I nodded. “So I have free reign around here? As long as I don’t get in the shot right?”

Vincent smiled. “You’ve worked on music video shoots before?”

“Once or twice,” I shrugged. “I worked with Bad Omens on one and some local bands another time.”

“Bad Omens?” He whistled low. “They’re one of the hottest bands right now. I’m surprised you aren't working with them.”

“I dated their current photographer for a few months. He set up the shoot with them to help build up my portfolio,” I shifted on my feet, suddenly feeling uncomfortable divulging too much about my life to this stranger.

A loud crackle and static came through Vincent’s radio. “Veil Brid-. They’re here.”

My heart stuttered in my chest for the briefest of moments but told myself to take a breath. It couldn’t be him; the radio cut off before finishing who was here, I was just in my head.

“You’re beautiful, River,” he mused while kissing every inch of my bruised skin.

Vincent clapped his hands which caused me to jump out of my thoughts and blinked wildly.

“Alright, I’ve got to meet the boys and show them their trailers to get ready. Head out whenever you’re ready. There’s a radio for you on the table in case we need to communicate with you tonight.”

“Sure,” I did my best to nod with a smile.

Once alone, I sat on the couch in the trailer and went about assembling my camera, doing a few test shots. The past kept trying to crawl its way back into the present, doing its best to render me useless, but I wouldn’t allow it.

Well, I tried to anyway.

“You’re worthless.”

“Piece of shit daughter. I should have dropped you off with your mother years ago.”

“The only thing you’re good for is being a punching bag. But you can’t even do that right.”

A swift kick to my ribs sent me flying across the room.

Choking on a sob, I dug my palms into my eyes hoping that would force out those thoughts.

“I haven’t thought of Dad in years but now he’s overtaking every part of me again,” I sighed to myself.

Not feeling quite ready to leave the trailer yet, I fixed myself in the reflection of the mirror by tying my long black hair into a tight French braid and cleaned up my makeup a bit. The scar underneath my right eye was faint but visible to this day almost eleven years later. No matter how much makeup I wore to cover it, it was still a reminder of not only the best day of my life but also the worst day.

“River, we need you on set.”

“Be right there,” I said into the radio before clicking it to the belt of my jeans, and with my camera around my neck, I bounded down the steps of the trailer.

By now the sun had set and the moon shone overhead so I stopped in my tracks for a moment to take a few shots of it before walking into the church where there was a large gathering of people. On the altar of the church were a set up of drums, guitars, an orchestra, and a microphone stand.

After snapping a picture of it, I turned on my heels when I heard Vincent call my name.

“River, I’d like you to meet the band. I figured you’d want to get some pictures of them before we start shooting.”

I looked over the picture I had just taken of the drum set, something vaguely familiar about the logo, but then glanced up at the five men standing in front of me; the one in the middle with the bright gray eyes immediately catching my gaze.

My breath caught in my throat as I nearly tripped over my feet when his jaw went slack, the familiarity slapping both of us in the face.

“River?”

The richness of his voice brought back all of those other memories I did my best to push away. I stood frozen, unable to move or say anything, while my brain tried to catch up on the man that stood in front of me; the one I hadn’t seen in ten years.

The one that broke his promise.

“Andy.”

Highschool. Senior year. One week before graduation.

I pounded on the bedroom window as the rain assaulted me with no end in sight, drenching me from head to toe. The rain mixed with the salty tears that rolled down my cheeks as I continued to beat my palm against the glass while standing on the makeshift ladder we made of three cinder blocks. I needed a way to reach his window in times like this. There was no way I could walk through his front door looking like this where his parents could see and ask questions.

“Damn it, Andy! Wake up!” I cried, still pounding on the window.

The storm was a constant onslaught of rain, lightning, and thunder, so I knew it was hard for him to hear me. But that didn’t stop me.

Finally, after a few minutes of crying and pounding on the window, Andy’s sleep-filled eyes stared at me through the curtain covering his window. I saw all the emotions run through his intense gaze.

Confusion.

Realization.

And when he gave my face one long once over, the emotion that crossed the soft features of his face, I knew there was no way I’d be able to excuse my dad’s actions this time.

Anger.

“River,” his voice instantly soothing me when he opened the window, helping me inside. “What the fuck happened?”

My body convulsed in shivers and I wrapped my arms around me to help keep some of my body heat.

“I–I-I’m fi-fine,” my teeth chattered loudly in the quiet room.

“Bullshit,” Andy spat while running a hand through his long black hair. “You’ve got a nasty cut under your eye and your lip is busted.”

Now with the rain not washing away the blood, I could taste the bitter crimson on my lips and felt it pooling in my eye. I didn’t have to look at myself to know that the cut was deep and needed stitches.

Typically, my dad made sure to hit me in places that I could easily hide. But tonight was different. I told him that once I graduated, I had plans to leave Ohio and move to North Carolina to start over; fresh.

“Not with my money,” he spat.

Literally.

When I told him I didn’t need his money and that I had other plans, he snorted while stubbing out his cigarette.

“With that little boyfriend of yours? Sweety, he’ll drop you the second you follow him to that big fancy city.”

“Fuck you!” I screamed. “You know nothing about Andy!”

My cursing set him off and that's when the first slap happened, causing my busted lip. This time, I fought back, but in the end, it didn’t matter. My dad’s strength overpowered me as he threw me across the floor, face skidding along some of the broken glass from the cup I had thrown at him before.

Hence the nasty cut underneath my eye.

Andy’s sighing brought me back and I then noticed he was shirtless, wearing nothing but a pair of boxers. I’d seen him like this many times before since we were best friends but something about seeing him like this tonight, made my insides burn low.

I’d had a crush on him since freshman year when he stepped between me and Alexa Dread from taking my camera and breaking it; again. Ever since that day, Andy and I were inseparable. We knew everything about each other and we always confided in each other about our feelings.

Just not for each other.

My feelings for him began to grow with each passing day but I had to watch him date girls that weren’t me with a fake smile because I needed to be happy for my best friend.

He’d never feel the same way and that was something I came to terms with a while ago.

My eyes grazed over the scattered ink on his arms, the random designs always taking my breath away. He was eighteen so was able to get the tattoos without the permission of his parents.

I, however, was one month shy of turning eighteen and I’d been counting down the days. Ready to run from all of this the minute the clock struck midnight.

“Fuck, River. You’re shaking,” Andy’s hand reached for me, leading me to the adjacent bathroom off of his bedroom.

“I d-didn’t know wh-where el-se to go-go,” I did my best to speak over my body shaking.

He hushed me with a gentle squeeze of my hand. “You know you can always come here. You always have a place here, Riv.”

I swallowed thickly at his nickname for me.

“You need to shower but I want to clean that cut first,” he motioned towards the soaked clothes that were clinging to me like a second skin. “Take them off.”

I stilled at his words. While Andy had no problem walking around in his underwear around me, I, on the other hand, could not muster up that kind of courage.

“I can’t,” I shook my head.

His bright eyes narrowed through the thickness of his black hair. “Either you take those clothes off or I will. The last thing you need right now is to catch pneumonia.”

Gnawing on the inside of my cheek, I still didn’t make a move, which caused Andy to sigh.

“I’ll turn around so you can undress, and keep your bra and underwear on. I’ll keep my face on yours when I clean your cut,” he reassured me with a gentle smile.

“Okay,” I said finally.

Before he turned around, Andy turned on the shower so the steam could fill the bathroom and keep me warm while he cleaned the cut. Staying true to his word, he turned his back to me, and as quick as I could, I ripped off the wet clothes. The sound it made falling to the tiled floor made me cringe and I covered myself with my arms.

My bra and underwear were not cute, nothing he’d seen his past girlfriends wear, so to say I was embarrassed was an understatement. A simple pair of black cotton panties and a red bra.

“You can turn around,” I said softly.

Andy slowly turned around and kept his eyes straight ahead on my face as he motioned to the closed toilet seat. While I sat, I watched his back muscles contort as he rummaged around underneath the sink for the first aid kit.

“Won't your parents wonder why you’re taking a shower at two in the morning?” I asked.

He snorted his laughter, still rummaging underneath the sink. “They would never question why their teenage son would be taking a shower in the middle of the night.”

“Huh?” I said, utterly confused.

Andy glanced up at me from his kneeling position with his brows raised and a playful smirk. Suddenly, it clicked on what he meant.

“Oh, right,” I muttered low; the image of his hand around his cock pumping it slowly then fast replaying in my mind like a movie.

I’d never seen him do that but I’d thought about it a handful of times.

“This might sting a bit,” Andy said, kneeling in front of me now; his eyes remaining on my face.

“I’ve had worse,” I tried to joke but the stern look from him made my shoulders fall and I muttered an apology.

“You need to leave home, River,” he said while soaking a cotton pad in peroxide.

I shook my head. “And go where? I have no money and no other relatives that will take me in.”

“You know my parents will let you stay in the guest room for as long as you need.”

I snorted. “Right. I don’t think your girlfriend would like the idea of me staying down the hall from you.”

Andy’s eyes snapped away from the cotton ball to my face. “We broke up.”

I did my best to keep a straight face when my heart nearly soared out of my chest.

“When?”

“The other day. She wanted to have sex and I said no so she broke up with me,” his voice told me that he wasn't upset about it.

My brows furrowed together. “You said no to sex with Ashley Jenks? You’re not sick are you?”

I made a play of touching his forehead with the back of my hand, our laughter echoing in the small bathroom.

“No,” he grabbed my hand, not letting it go right away. “I’m not going to give my virginity to the first girl that throws themself at me. Or in this case, the fourth.”

I blinked. “You’re still a virgin?”

Andy finally let go of my hand and I frowned at the loss of warmth.

“I know it’s shocking but call me old school. I’m waiting until I find the right person.”

Our eyes met in an intense battle of who would look away first but neither of us was faltering.

“I am too,” I said quietly.

For the briefest of moments, I saw his eyes widen before he played it off by holding up the soaked cotton ball.

“I’m sorry for the sting.”

I urged him on with a nod and didn’t even flinch when the cool liquid met my skin finally as Andy cleaned the cut on my cheek. Silence fell between us as he then cleaned the dried blood on my face and when his warm breath fanned over the cut to dry it, I nearly melted into him; skin rising with goosebumps.

“I don’t think you’ll need stitches,” he murmured while looking closely at the cut.

I sucked in a breath when I realized his lips were mere meters from mine and dared a glance down to his full lips. They were practically begging to be kissed and I wanted to be the one to do it.

“I’ll put a bandaid on it after my shower,” I said.

With me still sitting on the toilet and Andy kneeling in front of me, I spread my legs wide so he was able to get as close as he could to cleaning the cut. Now that he was finished, it was as if he had no idea where to place his hands so they rested on the wall behind me, his long body leaning over me.

“You’re not going back tonight, River,” his voice was deep as he stared down at me.

With shaking fingers, I brushed away the strands of hair from his face so I could see those gray eyes.

“I know.”

I tracked the movement of his Adam's apple as it bobbed low when he swallowed, his eyes finally grazing lower than my face. Down to the swell of my breasts and the slight pudge of skin around my stomach.

I wasn't the skinniest of girls, another reason why I was bullied, but Andy never commented on it.

“You should get in the shower,” his voice broke the trance between us. “Your lips are blue.”

When his finger ghosted over my mouth, I let out a soft moan desperately wanting to feel the pressure of his touch everywhere.

Suddenly like a ghost, Andy had vanished from the bathroom back into his bedroom, leaving me all alone. Since the door was now shut, I rose from the toilet and stripped out of my remaining clothes.

The hot water stung like a blade against my sore skin and I groaned out in pleasure. I didn’t want to take a long shower only because the water had already been running for a while before stepping beneath it. I washed away the memories of today with Andy’s soap and wrapped a towel around me after I stepped out of the shower.

“Shit, what am I supposed to wear?” I grumbled to myself.

Slowly opening the bathroom door, the light burst into Andy’s bedroom and lit up his form lounging on his bed reading a Batman comic.

“Andy,” I said while shuffling my feet and clutching the towel close to my chest. “I don’t have any clothes.”

Setting the comic down, he hopped off the bed and went across the room, opening the drawers of his dresser to pull out a pair of boxers and a shirt.

“We’ll swing by your house at some point tomorrow to grab you some clothes. You’ll stay here for the weekend,” he said while standing in front of me.

I took the clothes with one hand. “Thank you.”

Before in the bathroom, Andy made sure not to look at the bruises covering my skin but now, he made sure to take in every single one that he could see.

The fingers imprinted around my neck.

The bruise on my shoulder, left arm, and legs.

These were the ones that he could see. The ones underneath the towel around me were worse.

His jaw ticked with the anger he so desperately tried to keep within, knowing that one outburst from him would cause me to fall into myself.

“It’s not as bad as it looks,” I whispered.

Andy’s eyes were dark but his voice was gentle. “Let me see all of it.”

I vigorously shook my head. “I’m fine, Andy. I just want to get dressed and go to sleep.”

All at once, I felt my body being pressed up against the wall and the towel falling to the floor at my feet. Andy’s gaze ignited as he pressed his hips against mine causing a shockwave throughout my body. His clothed cock brushed along my bare clit and I let out a moan while my eyes fluttered shut.

“Riv.”

My eyes snapped open when I felt his hand cup my cheek. Tears burned at the corners and he gently wiped them away with the pad of his thumb.

“Please,” I begged. “Don’t look. They’re ugly. I’m ugly.”

The burning anger in his iris softened at my cries but still kept me locked in place against the wall with his hips.

“You’re beautiful, angel,” he admitted with a steady voice.

Angel.

It was Andy’s nickname for me ever since sophomore year when I dressed up as a fallen angel for Halloween. We were too old to go trick or treating but not cool enough for parties so we both decided to get dressed up and spend the night in his basement getting drunk.

It was also the night I had my first kiss. We were sitting on the couch in his basement, a few drinks in, and I had my head resting on Andy’s shoulder trying so hard to stay awake for the horror movie he put on. When I looked up at him, I was shocked to see that he was already staring at me and the next thing I knew, his lips were on mine. It was a short kiss, over before I could enjoy it.

“Shit, sorry,” he apologized. “I drank too much.”

We never talked about that kiss after that night, both of us burying it away; much to my dismay.

“I’m not,” I cast my eyes away from him.

His warm breath fanned across the crook of my neck as he peppered kisses on the bruises there.

“Let me show you.”

Yet again our eyes locked with intensity, so fierce it set the space around us on fire. Andy’s hand moved down my cheek, over my neck, and the space between my breasts. I bit back a moan when his finger and thumb rolled one of my perked nipples between them.

“Will you let me show you?” He asked, nuzzling his face in my neck.

I licked my lips. “What about waiting for the right person?”

“She’s already in front of me,” Andy admitted before crashing his lips to mine.

My body had come alive with his touch and everything I wanted since freshman year was coming to fruition. Andy wanted me just as much as I wanted him. Our lips synced together perfectly, never missing a beat, as he lifted me and carried me to his bed.

That night, we both gave each other something we held so dear to ourselves. Afterward, as we lay together with our naked bodies tangled underneath his sheets, Andy pressed a kiss to my forehead when I cried in his chest, scared to go back home once Monday morning came.

“I hate being alone there. I’m afraid he’ll go too far and kill me.”

“You don’t ever have to be alone, River,” his soothing voice cooed in my ear as he cupped my cheek.

I looked up at him through the tears and choked on a sob. “Promise you’ll stay with me?”

He smiled that smile I fell in love with years ago. “I promise.”

Andy lied.

Four days later, he packed up his entire life and moved to Hollywood without a simple goodbye.

PRESENT DAY.

“River?”

I blinked while shaking my head, trying to gather my bearings again. The past had sucked me in whole, forcing me to relive that night over again. I couldn't believe Any was standing in front of me again after all these years, the moonlight breaking through the stained glass windows of the church bathed him in a glow made for kings. Even though he looked different than the last time I’d seen him, with more tattoos and shorter hair; tonight he had a small white patch in his hair. I could vaguely make out the old lip-piercing hole and I remembered how the cool metal tasted against my tongue when we kissed.

He, along with the guys around him, were dressed in their outfits for the video, so I was able to see the tattoos that littered his neck, chest, and stomach. However, those eyes were still the same.

Those haunting gray eyes stared into the soul I previously just captured again as he waited for me to say something.

Do I play it off like I don't remember him?

Right, like you could forget the guy that took your virginity.

Do I ignore him and go about work like a professional?

How is ignoring the person you’re supposed to be working with professional?

I was starting to grow tired of the little voice inside my head.

Vincent glanced between Andy and me, pointing a finger. “Do you two know each other?”

“We went to high school together,” Andy answered before I could.

“No shit,” Vincent chuckled. “What a small world.”

“Right,” I snorted venomously.

Andy’s eyes sliced into me but I ignored him by giving him my back and looking over at Vincent.

“I’ll get shots of them later. Radio me when you’re ready.”

When he nodded, I took that as my cue to leave although I made it only a few steps before my name was called from behind.

“You’re not even going to say hello, Riv.”

I spun so fast on my heels, the end of my braid snapped to the other side of my face and I pointed a finger at Andy.

“I’m not doing this with you. Not here and especially not right now. Both of us have a job to do. Let’s keep it that way.”

One of the guys next to Andy watched us carefully and I could practically see the light click on above his head.

“Wait, River as in River from high school,” the guy said.

“Yeah, Jinxx,” Andy answered before taking a step towards me.

I took a large step away from him. “I already said I’m here to do my job, that’s it.”

Before he could try and sweet talk his way into my life, just like that night, I turned back around and marched out of the church, calling back that I was going to take some shots of it.

Once outside, I let the cold night air brush the hot tears away from my face as my heart nearly burst out from my chest, sobs echoing throughout the vastness of the sky.

No. This cannot be happening.

For the last nine years, I spent my life crying over that man, wondering what I did wrong that night to make him leave me behind. He promised to stay with me but still left.

Was I not good enough? Worthy of being by his side?

Nine years I spent stuck in Ohio wondering why with the bitter taste of Hennessy, drinking away my sorrows and regrets. It wasn’t until a year ago when I finally questioned myself in the reflection of the bottle that I took whatever money I had left from selling my father's house after he died to move across the county to California.

The last year I spent building myself up to the women I was now and creating my career empire with my photography. I refused to let the past crumble everything I worked so hard for; no matter how good he looked now or how bad I wanted to taste his lips again.

“Get a hold of yourself,” I seethed. “He left you.”

The sound of music from inside blasted through the walls of the church letting me know that they started shooting and choosing not to dwell on Andy showing back up into my life, I took a few shots of the church outside. Then I reluctantly walked back inside knowing I couldn’t avoid him forever and decided to get some pictures of the guys.

Andy’s eyes quickly found me but I did my best to ignore him by hiding behind my camera. His voice erupted through the speakers and it brought back every single time during music class in high school when he would sing in front of the class or solo for me in his bedroom.

My bottom lip trembled as I blew out a shaky breath while walking over to where Vincent sat, just as he yelled cut.

“Did you get your shots?” He wondered.

Clicking back through all of the pictures, I pursed my lips at the realization that while I got great shots of the other band members, I hadn’t gotten any shots of Andy mostly because I avoided him at all costs.

“I need some of Andy,” I said with a long breath.

“No problem. I think we got everything we need with this scene. Next up is the scene of him sitting in the pew alone so you can get them now,” Vincent patted my shoulder as he stood from the chair.

“Lovely,” I grumbled while walking back towards the altar of the church directly in Andy’s path.

He was talking with one of his band members but when he caught sight of me, he met me halfway.

“Riv,” he began.

“Don’t,” I seethed, walking past him. “You lost the right to call me that when you left me.”

“Can I explain please?” Andy asked while reaching for my elbow.

I yanked it out of his grasp, ready to move to the opposite side of the church when his voice halted me.

“Angel.”

Whirling around so fast, I nearly dropped my camera to the ground when I pushed him in his chest.

“Don’t you fucking ever call me that again!” I nearly screamed. “You don’t have the right to call me that.”

Anytime I heard that name, all I would think about was our first kiss and the night we slept together.

His eyes softened, almost begging me to listen. “Please, angel. I have to explain-.”

“NO!” My voice echoed inside the church. “There’s nothing to explain, Andy. Anything that comes out of your mouth is a lie.”

“Do you guys need a moment?” Vincent’s voice carried over to us.

“No!”

“Yes!”

Andy and I both said at the same time.

“You know what, I think a break is a good idea. Let’s take thirty and come back,” Vincent directed to everyone with a wave of a finger.

Having every intention of spending that thirty minutes alone in my trailer, I brushed past Andy and nearly tripped over my feet as I ran down the concrete steps, the vision of my solace getting closer and closer. Just before I could slam the door shut behind me, it closed on a body with an audible ouch.

“Leave me alone, Andy!” I yelled.

He stood tall in the small confines of the trailer, his broad chest heaving with each deep breath from chasing after me. His bare chest underneath his opened jacket and for a second, I allowed myself to study those visible tattoos. The eagle on his sternum, the sword in the crease of his stomach, the tiger neck to it. I couldn’t make out the tattoo across his neck or chest but I could make out the 26 in a hear on his neck.

“Not until you let me explain,” he said.

I grabbed the end of my braid, ripping it out so my dark hair could fall around my shoulders.

“I swear to fucking God himself, if you say explain one more time I’m going to-.”

“Do what, angel?” He raised a brow while resting his hands on his hips.

I pointed to the door. “Get out.”

Andy didn’t move.

“You're unbelievable,” I growled while making a beeline for the door instead, only to have him block my path.

“I had to leave.”

I blinked up at him, mouth agape. “What?”

We were so close now, his familiar scent encasing me with its vise grip, and my mind kept screaming at me to create space.

He ran a hand over his short hair and took a deep breath. “I had to leave. That Monday morning after you left, I got a call from an agent in Los Angeles offering me a small gig in a commercial. It's what I needed to get my foot in the door, to get Black Veil Brides started, so I took it. But I had to be out there the day after they called me.”

“So you left me behind, without a single fucking goodbye,” I sneered, pushing past him to the other side of the trailer.

“I didn’t have a choice!” Andy’s voice was raised now, it echoing off the walls.

“You could have told me! You know I would have followed you!” I shot back.

He began pacing the narrow space while having his hands on his hips. “I couldn’t, River. Not without knowing that everything would have paid off in the end. I couldn’t have you with me while I suffered.”

I chuckled dryly. “Oh but suffering back home alone was fine with you?”

“I wanted to reach out and check on how you were doing,” his shoulders slumped.

“My number has been the same,” I held out my hands. “I lived in the same fucking house for nine years after you left. You could have come to see me.”

When he said nothing, his lips unmoving, I grew angrier and pushed his chest, ten years of holding everything in finally exploding.

“You lied!”

Push.

“You left me with him to beat on me for another three fucking years until he died!”

Push.

“You made me a promise and broke it!”

I cried with one final push, causing Andy to fall back onto the couch, stormy eyes staring up at me. Tears were streaming down my face and my eyes burned with anger for the man in front of me.

“You told me you would never leave me,” I snarled through gritted teeth. “You said you wouldn’t and you fucking did.”

When he reached for my hand, I smacked it away.

“Please, angel,” he begged. “I’m sorry I wasn’t there for you when you needed me. But I wasn’t in the best place. I couldn’t have you be with me, seeing all that shit. You didn’t deserve any of that.”

“Just tell me all you wanted from me was sex so I can finally put the nail in the coffin, Andy,” I said with a shaky breath.

His face fell. “That’s not even remotely true, River.”

“It doesn’t matter anyway. After tonight, you’ll go back to your band and life as a rockstar.”

With my back turned, I gathered my camera and was ready to get back to work when an arm wrapped around me from behind.

“Come with me, angel,” Andy’s soft voice brushed along the shell of my ear.

When I felt myself falling into his embrace, almost ready to give in, I pushed away from him. He made me so mad I could throw something at him. My camera or the chair.

Myself.

“You’re insane,” I shook my head.

He linked our hands together so I could face him, the pleading bright in his eyes. “Give me a chance to make up for the last ten years.”

I stared blankly at him, trying to determine if this was a cruel trick.

“You don’t deserve my time, Andy. What we used to have is gone, you can’t fix it or try to bring it back.”

“You’re not even going to let me try?” He asked.

“Why should I? So that you can break my heart again? You don’t realize how much of myself I gave to you; parts I can never take back. You were my first kiss!” I raised my voice.

He blinked. “I didn’t know that.”

I scoffed while shaking my head again. “Of course you didn’t, Andy. Because you never brought it up again. You blamed it on the alcohol that night. What’s your excuse for the night we lost our virginity to each other?”

Before Andy could speak, I waved him off and headed towards the door of the trailer.

“It’s not even worth it anymore,” I muttered with my hand on the handle.

Suddenly in a whirlwind, I felt myself being hoisted up and pressed against the bathroom door. Those dark gray eyes were reading my face, assessing every movement of my gaze as it burned into him. Andy held my hands pinned to my sides and kept me locked into place with his hips. The imprint of his cock was felt against the material of my leggings and I bit the inside of my cheek to keep the moan quiet.

It’d been so long since I felt his touch and I was ready to throw out everything, all of my morals, just to have him again.

“River,” his hand cupped my cheek, the coolness of his rings almost a shock to my warm skin.

I said nothing, simply glaring up at him with a clenched jaw.

“Riv. Come with me.”

AnDy breathed over my lips and I nearly lost it. But I still kept strong, not wanting to be the first one to falter. I worked so hard to build myself back up after he left and there was no way I could allow myself to fall.

Not again.

His thumb lifted my chin, keeping it locked in his grip, and his eyes dropped to my lips; a silent question.

“Fuck you,” I spat.

Something dark flashed in Andy’s eyes as a sinister smirk played on his lips. One that I recognized all too well even though it was never directed at me.

“I don’t ever remember you being such a brat,” he tsked.

I swallowed thickly, unsure how the tension between us went from anger to sexual, but at that moment with him eyeing me hungrily, I didn’t want to question it.

“How could you remember? You’ve been gone for ten years,” I shot back.

Andy pressed his hips harder against me and this time I wasn’t able to hold back the moan. It slipped through my lips with sheer pleasure and I let my head fall against the door behind me.

“I wasn’t drunk the night we slept together, River,” Andy’s hand wrapped around my neck, thumb now on my pulse point. “Or that entire weekend.”

My cheeks flushed when I remembered we had sex multiple times that weekend. We never left his bedroom and thankfully, his parents left the next morning for a friend's wedding so they had no idea I was there.

“All I ever wanted was you,” his voice was low.

I raised my chin at him. “You have a funny way of showing it.”

His tongue darted out to wet his lips, an action I watched intently, and then his voice dropped even lower. Those usually bright eyes were dark and it made the air thick, heated, and full of spice. It made it harder to breathe as his grip tightened around my throat slightly.

“Let me show you.”

Those four words sent both of us back to his bedroom during high school and just like that night, I succumbed to the darkness that was Andy Biersack; consequences be damned.

“Are you still waiting for the right person?” My question was a breath over his lips.

A low noise rumbled in Andy’s chest as his hand gripped behind my neck, yanking my mouth to his.

“She’s right in front of me.”

Every single doubt and fight I had within me vanished the second our lips touched, those familiar fireworks exploding. My hands were all over Andy; his neck, chest, ribs, and back as they sneaked underneath his jacket. While one of his hands continued to grip the back of my neck, the other held tight on my hip so I couldn’t leave.

As if I wanted to.

Our tongues molded together and he swallowed my moan when his teeth bit down on my bottom lip. For a moment, reality struck with clarity and I pushed Andy off of me, wiping my mouth on the back of my hand.

“You need to leave,” I warned, breathless.

His lips were kiss swollen and his jacket was falling off of his shoulders as those stormy eyes never left my lips.

“Do you want that? Because if you do, I’ll leave right now.”

When I remained silent, Andy smirked while grasping the back of my head to crash his lips on mine again, this time with more hunger. It was as if he was a man starved, desperate for his last meal.

“You need to go,” I groaned when his lips began trailing down my chin and neck.

“Go where?” He asked. “Here?”

A gentle bite to the shell of my ear.

“Or here?”

A kiss on the sensitive part of my skin between my neck and shoulder which caused me to shiver in his embrace.

“What about here, angel? Do you want me here?”

The head of his cock brushed along my clit from underneath our clothes and I nearly fell at his feet until Andy’s strong arms lifted me to carry me over to the small twin-size bed on the other end of the trailer.

“It’s like we're back in my childhood bedroom with this small ass bed,” he grumbled.

I fell onto the cheap mattress with a slight giggle but it was hushed with Andy consuming me once more. My entire soul went up in a fiery blaze when he began rutting his hips into me and it was as if we were a couple of teenagers again making out and thinking that was the best part of it. We couldn’t keep our hands off of each other as I helped him out of his jacket and he all but ripped my sweater off, leaving me in an olive green bralette.

His eyes darkened before he left teeth marks between the swell of my breasts, lapping up his saliva and dried sweat from the day and I raked my nails through the buzzed hair.

“I miss your long hair,” I gasped, feeling his tongue slip between the material of my bra and catching my nipple.

“I’ve missed the way you tasted, River,” Andy mused while kissing his way back up to my lips.

This time the kiss was slow, as if we had the rest of our lives together and there was no need to rush anything. It was like he was trying to imprint me into him, never wanting to forget anything again.

I reached for the button on his pants, pulling down the zipper to slip my hand inside, palming his hard cock.

Holy. Shit.

It was a lot thicker than ten years ago.

“Shit, Riv,” he cursed when I squeezed him. “Just like that.”

I did it a few more times while his forehead fell to my chest, panting his warm breath over my skin. I lifted his face with my other hand to kiss him again, the savageness poured out of him.

The room smelled of our desperation as I shimmied out of my leggings while he stepped out of his pants, after unhooking my bra and tossing it over his shoulder. As Andy stood at the end of the bed, I let my eyes rake over every defined muscle of his body; tongue begging for a simple taste of the ink on his skin and the head of his cock that was almost slipping through his briefs; the black briefs doing absolutely nothing to hide his arousal.

Rising to my knees on the bed, I ran my palm over his cock again, his entire body shivering underneath my touch.

"Fuck, angel,” Andy groaned before his teeth grasped at my bottom lip, yanking it away from me.

I hissed in pleasure, the taste of copper lingering on my tongue.

"Did you-." I licked my bottom lip and then tilted my head to the side. "Did you just bite me?"

Andy pushed me back down on the bed so he could take in the sight of me bare for him; those stormy eyes were now clear with only one thing.

Heat.

“I can’t believe I went ten years without this,” he muttered to himself while stepping out of his briefs, his cock finally springing free.

I licked my lips at the sight of it, salivating for a taste of the precum that he smeared over the head. But instead, I felt like being a brat with Andy, not allowing him to think I wasn’t still upset with him.

“It’s your own fucking fault,” I shot back with a sly smirk, resting on my elbows.

My squeals echoed in the trailer when Andy flipped my tiny frame over on the mattress so my ass was exposed to his palm, a hard strike falling onto it. I writhed against the bed when another harsh strike came down on my ass, my mewls of pleasure being drowned out by the pillow.

“You’re such an ass,” I seethed when the spankings stopped.

Andy palmed my reddened cheek while looming over my back, his breath warm on my neck.

“Do you still like it rough, River?” His question was heavy on his tongue.

That weekend we spent together, I divulged what kind of kinks I might have been into due to my own research. Andy let me try things with him while I did the same and needless to say, all these years later he still knew exactly what my body needed to come alive for him.

Instead of answering, I raised my hips from the bed with his name falling from my lips in a whine full of desperation. Andy had barely touched me but the wetness between my legs was warm and sticky.

I needed this release more than oxygen.

"What do you want from me?" His fingers dragged up my slick folds from his position behind me before slipping one inside, the feeling of his rings making me stiffen.

My head was turned to the side so I could gaze up at him over my shoulder. However, he wasn't looking at me. His eyes were trained hard on his finger pumping in and out of my pussy, the sounds of my arousal overpowering the sounds of my panting. Seeing the desperation on his face as he tried to hold himself back made me push my ass closer to Andy.

“Use your words, Riv,” he ordered while flicking his eyes to me for a moment.

I shook my head, words foreign when he slipped another finger inside of me, spreading them wide like a V.

“Did you forget how to speak?”

Andy clicked his tongue against his teeth, ready to pull his fingers out when my begging halted him.

"You. I just want you."

The bed shifted behind me when I noticed Andy disappear only to feel the wetness of his tongue press against my pussy to lick my arousal. The sharpness of his teeth scraped along my clit as he buried his face deeper into the sweet spot between my legs.

“You still taste so good, River,” he mused, pressing gentle kisses on the inside of my thigh.

“Don’t stop,” I all but whined, wanting to feel his tongue again.

Andy ate me out from behind with both hands on my hips, continuing to keep me in place as my body writhed on the bed from the onslaught of his mouth. When his lips wrapped around my clit to suck hard on the sensitive bud, I screamed out his name.

“Andy,” I drowned it out with a moan. “It’s so good. I’m so close.”

With the indication my orgasm was on the brink of collapse, he slipped a finger inside of me again. While his mouth was a rough attack on my clit, his finger was a gentle caress of my inner walls with slow strokes. Sheer ecstasy was slowly building at the base of my spine, warming up all of my senses until I felt like I could combust at any moment. Andy flicked his tongue over my clit and I buried my face into the pillow, the musky scent of my wellness tickling my nose as my body shook out my orgasm. My cries of release sounded like music to Andy’s ears as he hummed in praise, drinking up my arousal as it gushed over his tongue and fingers.

It had been so long since I had an orgasm that wasn’t brought on by my hand or a toy. I lay limp on the bed, breathless, as the after-shocks slowly began to fade along with the hazy bright lights, my soul returning from wherever it retreated to. I barely felt the kisses upon my thigh and then lower back as Andy dragged a finger down my spine.

“Still on birth control?” He asked, lust gone from his voice for a second.

I nodded while glancing over my shoulder and seeing my arousal coating his lips. The sight was so intoxicating that I almost uttered those three words that plagued my existence since I first met him.

“River,” he tapped my back, bringing me out of my thoughts.

“Implant,” I replied.

My head leaned back in pure bliss when Andy dug his nails into my hips as he pressed himself past my wetness, the thickness of his cock filling me. It twitched inside of me, earning a disgustingly desperate groan from me.

It felt nothing like it did ten years ago. It felt better.

Andy left no space between us as he held us in place on the small mattress and I tried to move my hips in his grip. It was so rough, I knew I would have bruises later but frankly, I didn’t care. All I cared about was how good it felt to have him inside of me again.

“So tight, angel. I can’t-.”

His eyes fluttered shut as his lips parted to an 'O' shape when I rocked my hips against him with my swollen clit rubbing against the cool blanket and I shivered at the sensation. Everything from our fight to our kiss sent me in a spiral of pure ecstasy and I felt the coil in my stomach pulling tight again. My previous orgasm was still lingering and it didn’t take long before I felt that familiar tingly feeling in my spine.

“Andy, I’m going to-.”

Still inside of me, he managed to flip me over so now I was staring up at those dark eyes; pupils blown wide with lust. Now, Andy didn’t hold back as he hooked my leg up and around his shoulder so he could thrust in a deeper angle.

“Oh god,” I closed my eyes, the new sensation causing the coil to hurt.

“Eyes on me, River!” He snapped with a low growl and I immediately obeyed. "You're so fucking beautiful, angel. I’m sorry I left you. I’m sorry it’s been ten years.”

I didn’t want to hear his apology. I only wanted to have that coil spring free with my second orgasm. I attacked his lips with such force Andy had to hold himself up with one hand on the headboard, the other slipping between the place where our bodies met to play with my clit; exactly how I liked. Our tongues explored each other's mouths in a kiss so vicious it made my head spin. Andy’s pace was erratic and merciless but it didn’t stop me from begging.

"More," I mumbled into his lips.

That's all he needed before he maneuvered us so he sat in the middle of the bed with me in his lap and he held me closer to his chest as his hips snapped up into me in violent strokes, the head of his cock hitting that perfect spot. I yelled out my pleasure, exposing my neck to Andy who immediately attacked it with his teeth leaving bite marks all along the skin sticky with sweat.

My body hummed in a prayer-like awaking, the flames and heat burning high in my belly as my organs crested higher; so fucking high I was afraid I would combust into nothing but matter in the air. His name fell from my lips in devotion, a woman praying to her God, and my toes curled as the orgasm ripped through me with so much force I screamed out in pure nirvana.

“I love you, River,” Andy professed with a strangled breath as he spilled himself inside of me, cock throbbing with his release.

“What did you say?” I questioned, almost unsure if I had heard him correctly.

He cupped my cheek, eyes softening. “I love you.”

My bottom lip trembled at those three words; the words I wanted to hear for years.

“I’m sorry it took me so long to say it,” Andy brushed away my hair from my face. “But it’s true. I’m at a better place where now admitting it out loud doesn't scare me.”

We stayed like that, bodies tangled together in the silence for a few long moments until he laid us on the bed. I very quickly detached myself from him so I could put some space between us.

Although he admitted how he felt, I wasn't ready to yet. I knew that I loved him ever since high school, but it was my turn to be afraid of what would happen if I admitted it out loud.

Instead, I remained silent while lying on my stomach on the bed, resting my chin on my hand to gaze down at his tattoos again. One of them immediately caught my attention and I smiled at it, a fond memory cresting to the surface.

“I remember being with you when you got this,” I whispered while trailing a finger over the black and yellow Batman logo on his arm.

“I still have the comics you got me for my birthday,” he said while propping his arm behind his head.

My heart skipped at that because it meant that he was thinking of me during our time away.

“But you couldn’t come to see me,” I muttered under my breath as I turned from him.

Andy reached for me to pull my back to his chest and lock me into place with a leg over my hips. His left hand grazed up and down my arm, sending shivers all over my skin, and I let out a soft breath.

“Will you stay with me, River?”

I sat on his question for a few long beats, letting it sink in if it was something I truly wanted. My life in Hollywood wasn’t set in place, I’d always been on the move. But the thought of uprooting everything to be with Andy scared the shit out of me. How could I trust that he won’t leave me again?

Then why did you sleep with him? You plan on leaving after this, so you’re no better than him.

“Why now?” I sat up to gaze down at him, his arm falling away from me. “How come now you want to make things work between us?”

He hesitated with inner turmoil eating away inside as he slowly sat up and ran a hand over his short hair.

“I was married for six years. The divorce was finalized last year.”

My heart sank into the depths of my stomach; no farther. It fell straight to Tartarus.

“We were together for a total of eight years but the longer our relationship went on I began to realize it wasn’t what I wanted. Who I wanted,” Andy explained.

There was absolutely no reason for me to be upset with him because while he was married, I had been casually dating. None of them were ever serious enough to last more than a few months. But it still caused an ache in my heart.

“Then why did you stay with her for as long as you did?” I asked.

Andy has a soft smile. “I loved her, in a different way than I love you. But sometimes that kind of love isn’t enough. Not when someone else held my heart first.”

Tears burned in my eyes and I blew out a shaky breath. “If that were true, Andy, then you would have come to me first. You wouldn’t have gotten married.”

Removing myself from his grasp, I began slipping on my discarded pieces of clothing while he continued to sit in bed, naked.

“I’m not saying I’m perfect, River. But I’ve grown a lot in the last few years. The Andy you used to know wouldn’t have been good for you.”

“And now?” I asked with my hands on my hips.

The smile that played on his lips grew wider. “Now, I would love to have you come on the road with me. We leave in a few days for our North America leg then jump overseas for a few weeks. Plenty of time to make up for old times and prove I’ve changed.”

I laughed. “You want me to stop what I’m doing here to come follow you? Give up potential jobs? Just to be your roadie?”

Andy’s jaw twitched but with a deep breath, he gathered himself from the bed and stepped back into his briefs and pants.

“You can be our photographer. I’ll talk it over with our management team, that way you can be getting paid.”

I pursed my lips in consideration because his offer was a pretty good one. But was it worth spending all that time together?

You love and miss him.

I sighed at the voice in my head, knowing it was true. Seeing him again brought up all the old feelings I spent years burying, trying to forget, and it was clear that Andy still felt the same.

“You remember all the plans we made? When we were hoping for better days? You wanted to become a photographer and I wanted to sing in a band. We have that now. What’s stopping you from saying yes?” He took a small step towards me.

“The promise you betrayed,” I said flatly.

Andy’s shoulders fell. “You don’t have to forgive me for leaving you, Riv. But I swear to you that if you come with me, I will spend every day from here on out proving to you that you’re all I want.”

When I didn’t say anything, he wrapped his arms around me and oh so gently, laid a kiss on my lips.

“I love you, River Murray,” he professed. “We can start over; fresh. But only if this is something you want. If not, then we can both leave with some closure and go our separate ways.”

I couldn’t explain the way my heart physically ached with the thought of leaving tonight and forgetting about Andy. Even with all the anger and hurt, I couldn't imagine acting like tonight didn’t happen. Maybe there was a small possibility that we could work through our issues, gain that trust back, and finally find what we were desperate to have.

But the betrayal weighed heavy in my soul along with the fear of Andy doing it again, only this time while I was with him and leaving me stranded.

“River, if you’re with Andy, can you have him come to set? We’re ready to start again.”

I jumped at the sudden loud crackle of the radio, Vincent’s voice breaking through the clouds of confusion.

With a sigh, Andy slipped back into his shoes and jacket.

“Let’s get back to work, yeah? We can talk more about this on the next break,” he said.

I swallowed the waver in my voice as it broke. “I’m actually going to sit here for a bit since I’m not needed right now.”

Andy’s thumb brushed along the soft skin of my cheek. “I’ll be back as soon as I can, angel.”

He left me with a kiss on the cheek and for the first time since reuniting with Andy, I fell to the ground with sobs wracking my body. Everything I worked hard to overcome was shattered by those three words and his offer. It terrified me to completely allow him in again but I also didn’t want to let him go.

The decision was made in an instant as I rose from the floor, hastily wiping away the tears, and gathered my things together. I knew what I chose would have repercussions, some I may never recover from, but as the door of the trailer slammed behind me, it would be alright. Because my heart said it would be.

#tina talks #andy biersack #andy black #black veil brides #bvb #andy black fanfiction #andy biersack fanfiction

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cuttergauthier · 11 months

Text

Fake Dating

Female reader x Keaton Pehrson

Warning: against, toxic friend, fake friends, fluff Keaton

word count: 2.5k

let me know what you guys think🤍

I’ve been best friends with the hockey team ever since I was a freshman at University of Michigan, Now I’m a senior and I live with the sophomores, I was living in a dorm room until the boys asked me to move in with them since they were getting a house and there was an extra room. Their fun to live with, the days are never boring, only thing is they don’t clean. Another thing that sucks is when people pretend to be my friend just so they can get close to the guys, especially the girls.

The one thing I really appreciate is that none of them have tried to get with one of my “friends”. I never told them why suddenly I’m not friends with them anymore, I think they might have their suspicion but even through it’s happening to be, it happens to them all the time, with some befriending one of them just so they can meet the others.

Recently I became close with one of the girls in my English class Kayla, she was really sweet, and I thought she wanted to be friends with me, but today I overheard her talking to another one of her friends on how her plan worked and she was finally going to meet the boys tonight at the party since I invited her and that she was only using me so she could get close to Keaton. What hurts the most is the fact that this happens every single time.

The boys know that I became close with her, the second I heard her say that, I turned around to walk away only to run into someone who was behind me. I was about to fall when hands grabbed both my arms to stop be from falling.

“Shit sorry” I said about to walk away when the guy stopped me. I looked up to find Keaton. I rolled my eyes at him.

“Let me go Keaton” i said annoyed, I didn’t want to have to deal with him right now, especially since we don’t get along.

“Not happening, come on” he said dragged me out of the building and to his car.

“Keaton What the hell! Let me go” i was starting to get angry.

“No chance, get in the car” he said, when he finally let go of my arm and went to the driver’s side

“Why the hell would i want to get in the with you?”

“Because I think we should talk after what I heard you fake friend Kayla say” my eyes widened I didn’t think he heard what she said. How long was he standing behind me?

I sighed and got in the passenger seat. We were both quiet for a minute until i got annoyed and looked at Keaton.

“Are you going to say whatever it is you want to say, or can I leave?” I asked

He turned and looked at me, it kind of looked like he was sad in a way.

“Does it happen a lot?” He asked

“Does what happen a lot?”

“Quit it with the sarcasm, and answer the question” he said annoyed

“Yeah, I guess”

“So, is that why you never have the same friends?” He asked curious.

I nodded sadly.

“Have you ever told any of the guys?” He asked making me scoffed

“Of course not, they would have done something about it, and I didn’t want to have to bother them with my problems”

“But if people are using you to get to us, it is our problem”

“Just leave it alone… you don’t even like me so why do you even care?”

“Because you don’t deserve that, especially if someone is using you to get to me, and I know for a fact that the boys wouldn’t be okay with that either”

“Just let it go… please, I don’t need anyone making a big deal out of this” I said

“You can’t not do anything about it”

“Well, what do you expect me to do? I’m not going to continue being friends with her when she’s only using me, there’s also no way I’m still going to bring her over tonight after what I just heard, even if you’d want to get with her” I told him, i don’t care if Keaton wants to get with her, I mean she’s stunning but I’m not going to be the reason they do especially since that’s the exact reason why she was using me.

Keaton looked at me confused, before chuckling.

“You think I want her?”

“I mean why wouldn’t you? She’s stunning”

“She might be stunning, but she’s using you, we might not get along, but I still wouldn’t do that to anyone” he said genuinely. I give him a small smile and nodded.

“Then what am I supposed to do?” I asked honestly

“Get her back” he said, I started laughing.

“How the hell am I supposed to get her back? I can’t use her for anything” I said still laughing

“True… I can’t believe I’m about to say this, but tell the boys about what’s been happening, and I’ll help you�� he said

“If I do tell the boys, how exactly are you planning to help me?” I asked curious.

“Does she know we don’t get along?”

“No, I never really talked about you guys, which is why I didn’t see this coming”

“Okay well if she doesn’t know we hate each other, Bring her over anyway and if she tries to hit on me, we pretend to be dating and hopefully at the end you tell her off” he said.

“That’s hilarious” I said laughing

I looked at him and he looked serious.

“Oh my god, you’re serious?”

“Yes”

“I don’t want anyone to think were dating, plus the boys are never going to believe it” I said annoyed.

He rolled his eyes.

“That’s why you tell the boys everything, and we also tell them the plan, so they don’t say something for her not to believe us”

I sighed and nodded.

“Okay fine… this better work” I said looking at him.

“it will” he said smirking, I shock my head about to get out of his car before he spoke again.

“Do you need a ride home?” he asked

“If you wouldn’t mind.”

“I don’t” he said and I nodded putting my seatbelt on.

…

After Keaton dropped me off he told me to tell my roommates and he would tell his, so that they know what will happen tonight.

The boys were all sitting in the living room watching some old hockey tape when I got in.

“Hey Y/n, how was your day?” Ethan asked when I walked in the living room. I sat down on the couch next to Dylan.

“Um I actually need to talk to you guys” I said

Dylan paused the Tapes and they all turned to look at me.

“Everything okay?” Dylan asked and I shock my head.

“What’s up?” Mark asked

“Yeah Y/n, you know you can tell us anything” Mackie said and I smiled softly.

“Do you guys know why I keep changing friends?” I asked, I was wondering if maybe they had an idea.

“No, we just thought you guys always drifted apart” Dylan said

“Did something happen between you guys?” Ethan asked.

“Well you see, ever since freshman year, a lot of the girls around here have been pretending to be my friends just so they could get close to all of the guys on the team. I always thought they were actually my friends until I found out that wasn’t true” I told them. They all looked at me sadly.

“Why didn’t you tell us this before?” Mackie ask.

“I didn’t want to bother you guys with my problems”

“Y/n you’re always there for us, you wouldn’t have bothered us, we are here for you” Dylan said and I smiled

“Thanks guys”

“What changed your mind about telling us now?” Mark asked

“Turns out Kayla was only using me to get to Keaton”

“Wait Keaton hooked up with her?” Mackie said cutting me off. I shook my head

“No, he umm… I heard her talking about how her plan worked and she was finally meeting the guys tonight so she would be close to Keaton and when I went to leave, Keaton was standing behind me and he heard the whole thing”

“Oh my god… okay what are you going to now?” ethan asked

“Well Keaton want’s me to bring her anyway, and since she doesn’t know we don’t get along, he wants us to pretend to be dating to hopefully piss her off” I said, Dylan started smirking.

“Hell yes, this is going to be so good, she needs to know you can’t use someone to get to someone else” Mark said making us all chuckle.

“You guys actually have to pretend like Keaton and I are dating” I told them

“Oh don’t worry, we got your back” Ethan said smiling

“Perfect.” I said

I hung out with them for a little bit before I had to get ready for tonight.

…

I went to my room to change into some cute light blue mom jeans and white long sleeve babaton bodysuit. Once I was done some of the boys started arriving along with a bunch of other people who were invited, so I made my way downstairs to the living room. I texted Kayla to come over, she said she was on her way.

“Hey Y/n” Maggie, Kienan’s girlfriend said.

“Hey Mags” I said before giving her a hug.

“Kienan told me about what happened, I’m so sorry you had to go through that, I went through that once last year with a girl, it sucks” she said softly.

“Thanks mags, yeah it really sucks”

“Well hopefully, tonight will make her regret using you” she said smiling.

“I hope so”

“don’t worry, we all have your back” she said and winked.

Maggie made her way to Kienan and I went to the kitchen. I saw Keaton getting himself a drink. When he heard me approaching he smiled.

“You want one?” he asked showing me the beer. I nodded so he took a second one and handed it to me.

“Thanks” I said smiling.

“You’re welcome, are you ready to do this?” he asked

“No, not really” I said chuckling. He smiled.

“Don’t worry, we’ve got this”

“I hope, she’s on her way” I said

“Don’t worry, Iet her approach me first, I’ll make it clear to her that I’m dating you” I nodded. My phone dinged and I saw she texted me saying she was here.

“She’s here” I said looking at Keaton.

“Perfect, it’s game time” he said.

I left Keaton in the kitchen and made my way to find her at the door.

“Hey, I’m happy you’re here” I said with a fake smile.

“Thanks for inviting me” she smiled back

“Come on, let me introduce you to some of the guys” I saw Dylan and Ethan talking so I made my way to them. Kayla was following behind me.

“Hey boys, this is my friend Kayla, Kayla this is Dylan and Ethan two of my roommate’s” I introduced them, the boys both gave her smiles.

“It’s nice to meet you guys” She said smiling.

“Likewise” Dylan said.

I continued introducing her to a few of the other guys. I saw Keaton was in the kitchen, so I thought I would try and ditch her to see if she would go talk to him.

“I have to go to the bathroom, you can go to the kitchen and get something to drink if you want, I’ll meet you there when I come back” I said giving her my best fake smile.

She looked at the kitchen and then back at me smirking.

“Of course” she said and started walking to the kitchen, I guess she saw Keaton.

Mark and Ethan approached me.

“Is it game time?” ethan asked, he looked towards the kitchen then back at me.

“Yes, I just hope I don’t get embarrassed, I have no clue what she’s going to say to Keaton, and I really hope Keaton doesn’t back out and go with her” I said nervously.

“Trust me, Keaton wouldn’t do that to you” Mark said as Grano joined us.

“Keaton has a crush on you, trust me, he wouldn’t back down” Grano said and my eyes widened.

“I’m sorry what?” I asked grano. Mark and ethan’s eyes were wide. Mark slapped the back of Grano’s head.

“Dude we all promised Keaton we wouldn’t tell her” Mark said

“Well it’s pretty obvious she likes him to, and now there fake dating, so it’s the perfect time for her to know” He replied shrugging.

“You guys are messing with me right”

“No, he’s right. Keaton has liked you for a long time, so go make your move y/n” Mark said smirking. I nodded and made my way to the kitchen to Keaton and Kayla.

“Hey, I see you met Keaton” I asked her, Keaton sent me a smirk. I went and stood next to him and he put his left arm around my shoulders.

“Hey babe” he said kissing the side of my head, while I looked at a shocked Kayla.

“Wait you two are dating?” she asked surprised.

“Yeah, we’ve been dating for the past six months.” Keaton Answered her smiling.

“Why?” she asked annoyed, Keaton raised his eyebrows and looked at me before looking at her.

“What the hell do you mean why?”

“I mean, why her, you could do so much better than her” she said sending him a smirk.

Keaton chuckled before saying “Oh enlightened me, who is better than her” he said smirking.

I just stood next to him shocked that she would even say something like that, I know she was faking being my friend but is she that stupid to say something like that in front of my supposed boyfriend and friends.

“Me obviously, I’m so much better than her”

I looked at here surprised and she sent me an evil smile.

“How about you dump her and we could get out of here?” she continued smiling at Keaton.

Keaton laughed, before pulling me to his chest. She looked at him like she was insulted.

“I think you should leave, Y/n is definitely better than you, I would never break up with her, or hurt her for that matter, so I suggest you take your fake little self and leave this party” Keaton told her pointing at the door.

She scoffed with a hurt expression.

“Screw you, all of you” she said angrily before storming out.

“Come with me.” Keaton said taking my hand and taking me to my room. Once we got in he closed the door and looked at me.

“Are you okay?” he asked worriedly.

“Yeah, thanks for having my back” I said smiling softly

“Always” he said smiling.

We are standing so close, I looked him the eyes before looking at his lips

He smiled and put one of his hands on my cheek and leaned in and kissed me.

I kissed him back, our lips moved in sync. He put his other arm around my waist and pulled me closer. The kiss was heated.

After a while we broke apart breathing heavily.

“Maybe we should try dating for real,” he said smiling, making me chuckle.

“I’d love that” I replied smiling.

“Perfect” he said before leaning in again.

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ayyy-pee · 1 year

Text

Two Doors Down

Discord 18+ - Twitter - Kofi

Pairing: Aki Hayakawa x Black! Female Reader

Summary: You’re intoxicating to Aki in a way he’s not familiar with, a way that makes some strange sensation bloom in his chest. The same one that freaked him out enough for him to end things with you. Hours upon hours spent drinking the finest liquors couldn’t make Aki as drunk as he is on you whenever he’s in your presence.

In which Aki finds himself reflecting on his past decisions involving a certain neighbor.

Genre: Neighbor AU

Word Count: 7.6k

Story Warning: Smut, Vaginal Sex, Jealousy, Jealous Behavior, Pining Aki Hayakawa, Dry Humping, Oral Sex, Unprotected Sex, Breeding Kink, Creampie, Possessive Sex, Possessive Behavior, Reader is a black female reader who uses she/her pronouns!

Art by: NIRI

Ao3 Link: Two Doors Down

It’s too fucking loud in here.

It’s the only thought running through Aki’s head as he toys with the nearly finished cigarette between his fingers. He stares intently at the ash dangling from the end before he flicks it into the ashtray sitting on the bartop in front of him. It’s busy tonight, not too crowded but enough people that it’s a little overwhelming to him. The bump of the music’s bass rattles through Aki’s chest as he takes a sip of his drink. He’s not too big on alcohol, never has been…until recently. Suddenly, he’s been finding himself rather enjoying the burn of the bourbon he’s chosen as his go to liquor.

He has a good guess as to when he started taking up drinking. An easy way to escape the reality he’s created for himself. A reality full of loneliness. It’s his own fault, really. He’d made his choice and now he has to accept the daily humdrum that is now his life. Everyday is mundane. They go like this: Aki wakes up, gets dressed, packs lunch for himself and his siblings, goes to work and then rushes to the bar to forget that when he gets home, everyone will be asleep and he’ll be crawling into bed alone as always.

But, as dull as his life has become, it’s also a relief for Aki. He likes control, likes knowing what the next step is. He doesn’t mind chaos, though he’d prefer not to deal with it. He’d like everything to have a plan. So when Aki gets up in the morning, he knows exactly what he’s wearing, knows what he’s packing for lunch, knows exactly what time he’ll be running out to his car, knows exactly when he’ll be setting his things down in his office and he knows exactly what he’ll be ordering when he slides into his stool at the bar after work.

His coworkers laugh raucously behind him, the sudden burst of sound penetrating the bubble Aki has suddenly surrounded himself in. He takes a final drag of his cigarette before he ashes it and spins in his seat to face his colleagues.

The conversation is smooth, funny, even lifting Aki’s spirits as he lets himself finally get out of his own head.

“What do you think of Himeno, Aki?” One of his coworkers asks and Aki can see the shit eating grin he’s trying to hide behind his glass as he drinks.

Aki shrugs. “She’s nice, I suppose.”

One of his other colleagues chimes in. “Yeah, but what do you think of her? Like, looks wise.”

“Oh,” Aki says. He thinks about it for all of two seconds before he answers. “She’s cute. Not really my type, though.”

“You have a type?” One coworker asks, sounding surprised.

Aki rolls the ice around in his drink, allowing himself to remember what exactly his type was: Someone who lived just two doors down. An absolute beauty, with a head full of thick curls he loved to bury his nose in. Breathing in the sweet scent of pomegranate and honey. Soft, plush lips pressed against his own, trailing down his neck, down his chest, and further. Him leaving open mouth kisses across the smooth brown skin he couldn’t get enough of. His hands gripping luscious thighs, bringing them to wrap around his waist as he made love to the soft body of the woman he loved beneath him. If he were being honest with himself, that was still his type. It’s been some time since he’d let himself think about this, let himself remember what he let go of and lost, think about you.

He sighs, reaching into his pocket and fishing out his pack of cigarettes. He pulls a stick out and sits it between his lips before he brings his lighter up to his mouth. The flame burns the end of the cigarette as Aki sucks in a breath, successfully lighting. He takes a drag, holding the breath in and letting it burn through his lungs. The sting of the smoke hurts less than the thought of the memories currently assaulting him. It doesn't help much, but it helps enough that he can tuck those memories to the back of his mind for a bit and get back to the present to answer his colleagues previous question.

“I do have a type,” he replies. “And this may come as a shock, but Himeno is not it.”

Another one of his colleagues snorts. “Well shit, if you don’t want her, I’ll take her.”

Aki sips his drink, shrugging again. “Good luck with that.”

His coworkers are alright. Decent company when they want to be. They’re never talking about anything of substance, which Aki appreciates most of the time. He’s always thinking too much, working himself up to the point that he hyper focuses on whatever is on his mind and then he spirals. Always in his head, everyone around him none the wiser. It’s embarrassing. It’s why he likes to keep all the little pieces of his life in order, why he likes to be in control.

The music in the bar picks up, the tempo and bass increasing and Aki realizes it’s getting late. It’s late enough that the bar is shifting more into a club atmosphere, the dance floor starting to fill with patrons. Aki isn’t particularly interested in sticking around for this, (he never was much of a dancer) so he makes to turn and close his bar tab until he hears his coworker whistle.

“Oh, shit. Who is that?” One of his other colleagues gasps. He’s pointing across the bar, to the entrance where a couple has just walked in. A tall man strides in, his arm wrapped around the woman next to him. He’s got a face that is totally forgettable to Aki because all he can focus on is the arm wrapped around the woman next to him and that woman being you.

You’re clearly on a date and Aki…well, Aki doesn’t know how he feels about it. Surprised? Annoyed? Angry? He doesn’t have a right to feel any of those things, in all honesty.

The space feels so much smaller as his eyes track you. It’s been a while since Aki has seen you, really seen you. You two tend to avoid each other as much as you can, seeing as you live so close to each other. Two doors away from each other to be exact. He sometimes sees your posts on social media. He never likes them, in case you get the notification and decide to block him for some reason. On occasion, he’ll let himself scroll through your pages. Not for any particular reason, of course. Just to see what you’re up to lately. Aki tries not to make a habit out of it, tries not to think too hard about what you’re getting into when you post your selfies with your makeup and hair done. Tries not to march down the hall and knock on your door when he hears your laugh floating through the hallways accompanied by some man’s voice he doesn’t recognize. He doesn’t have any right to know anymore. He made that choice when he’d ended things with you.

It was never supposed to be anything more than a casual hookup between friends, neighbors. You and Aki live down the hall from each other and had bonded over the crazy neighbor who lived in the apartment between you two. Nights where you shared a bottle of wine at each other’s places soon turned into venting about work, failed relationships and eventually turned into an agreement to become friends with benefits. What Aki never anticipated was him developing feelings of more than friendship for you. He’d had his fair share of flings before, all never turning into anything. But with you, it became more for him very quickly, and it scared him.

Aki takes another drag of his cigarette as he watches you walk in with your date, a bounce in your step with the same wide smile he remembers and suddenly, the burn in his lungs is definitely not enough to keep him in the present. His mind is full of you. Full of memories of your touch, your scent, your laugh, your voice. Full of the way your eyes watered, the way your voice cracked, choking back a sob, crying for him when he’d decided to pull the plug on your relationship– if you could call it that.

Aki’s eyes are locked to your form, to the sexy little outfit you’ve worn out tonight that makes him shift in his seat, his pants suddenly feeling a bit too snug. He drinks in all the dips and curves he was once so familiar with, watches the way your curls bounce with each step and Aki wonders how long it took for you to finish your twist out this time. He wonders if the man you’re here with tonight helped apply your oils, leave-in and cremes the way he used to. The thought makes his stomach twist unpleasantly.

You haven’t noticed him yet and he’s glad for it. It gives him time to sort out what he’s feeling at the moment while he watches you and your date wander on to the dance floor, a drink in your hand. Your date wraps his arms around your waist, pulling you close until your ass is pressed against his groin. Aki inhales the smoke from his cigarette harder.

His gaze is focused on the way your hips sway in tune with the music, how you close your eyes and let the rhythm take over your body. Your movements are intoxicating. You’re intoxicating. You’re intoxicating to Aki in a way he’s not familiar with, a way that makes some strange sensation bloom in his chest. The same one that freaked him out enough for him to end things. Hours upon hours spent drinking the finest liquors couldn’t make Aki as drunk as he is on you whenever he’s in your presence. Your date seems to feel the same, because now he’s gripping on to you a little tighter, pressing his face into the crook of your neck the same way Aki used to, drowning in your scent the way Aki loved to.

Aki’s nostrils flare with annoyance and he tries to pretend seeing you with another man doesn’t get under his skin. He knows he could look away, but he won’t. Maybe it’s his way of punishing himself, forcing himself to watch you move on with your life right in front of him.

Yeah, that’s it. He caused his own pain and now he has to live with watching the way you roll your body against another man. Watch as that man grips onto your hips to pull you further into him. Watch as you both turn your faces to each other, noses brushing together. Watch as that man presses himself against your ass to the beat of the music. Watch as your plush lips part with what he can only imagine is that soft blend of a gasp and a moan you used to make whenever Aki finally pushed his tongue into your aching cunt after all of your begging and whining for him to stop teasing you.

Aki knows that the decision he made to end your arrangement gives him no right to be upset that you’re moving on, trying to find someone who can do better for you than Aki was willing. He also can’t ignore how just imagining another man’s hands on you makes his skin crawl, let alone witnessing it for himself.

He hates that you bring these feelings out of him, that you bring any feelings out of him. Aki likes control, and doesn't like to let his mind get away from him. But with you, it’s like he can’t help the rush of emotions that spill out when he sees you, when he’s near you. You make his life feel chaotic without even trying. It’s like his plans go out the window when you’re around. He’d do quite literally anything for you. Except give up the control he so loves for you.

You’re dancing alone now and Aki debates on getting up and maneuvering his way through the crowd just to get closer when he sees the way your hands run down your breasts, down your torso and to your hips.

“She’s so fucking sexy,” one of his colleagues practically moans and Aki thinks he wants to put his cigarette out in the space right between his eyes. He opts for the ashtray instead.

Aki takes out his wallet, grabs a few bills and places them on the counter, leaving his cup behind.

“I’m leaving,” he tells his coworkers.

“Not sticking around for the show?” The same colleague from before asks. “I might go get her number if the guy she came with takes too long to come back,” he sips his drink, sighing longingly after he swallows, eyes still glued to you. “I wanna be balls deep in that.”

Yeah, Aki should’ve burned his fucking eyes out.

…The temptation takes Aki aback just a bit and it’s a small reminder of why he needs to get away from you. Why he needs to leave this place and just go home. He’d never been the jealous type, not until he met you. And you’re not even his to be jealous over anymore, and yet…he can’t help the way he sees red watching you with someone else, the way he bites the inside of his cheek until it’s bleeding to keep himself from making a beeline to you.

He doesn’t reply to his coworkers, doesn’t even tell them goodbye as he makes his way through the crowd and out the door.

………

Freshly showered and in bed, Aki tosses and turns, unable to sleep. His thoughts are consumed with the thought of you. The way they always used to be. It’s so frustrating. It’s like his body and his mind can’t control itself. And this is what he dislikes the most. He hates that seeing you in person, being near you at all is like a trigger for him to begin fixating. He hates that if you’re around him, all he sees is you. No one else exists. He hates that when he’s near you, this strange heat begins to bloom in his chest and his heart starts beating so fast he feels dizzy. He doesn’t understand the feeling and in all honesty, it scares him.

It’s why he ended things with you. Aki is a man who likes control, he likes order, he’s not too fond of surprises and chaos. But with you, all of that goes out the window. He’s at your beck and call, he responds to your every whim. He cares deeply for you, but the idea of feeling out of sorts everyday because he can’t control himself when he’s with you is terrifying.

“Now that she’s gone, you’ll be going back to being an uptight asshole, won’t you?” Power had asked.

“Yeah, probably!” Denji chimed in. “At least with her he was a little fun!”

Aki is so deep in thought, he almost misses his phone vibrating next to him. He quickly glances at his device, his body freezing when he sees your name across his screen, along with the contact picture he’d never deleted.

He remembers it clearly. Aki had taken you out to dinner at some fancy rooftop restaurant in Tokyo. You had a wide smile on your face, curls in disarray as the wind blew through them. You’d tried your best to push them out of your face, but to no avail. Behind you, the sun was setting. It casts an ethereal glow over you, like a halo of pinks and golds and oranges. You were stunning. Of course he couldn’t bring himself to delete the picture.

He wasn’t in the habit of looking for your contact information, so he hadn’t seen the picture for a long time. Seeing it now made him feel as though it should be framed and hung in a museum, the Mona Lisa taken down and replaced by you.

Aki unlocks his phone, swiping to the text.

You: Hey

You: I know we haven’t talked in awhile, but I think I saw you out at a bar tonight? Was that you?

He hesitates. He knows he shouldn’t respond. That he should leave you alone like he chose to do. But a selfish part of him wants to talk to you.

So he does.

Aki: That was me. I saw you, too.

He types up the next message, debating on whether he should send it or not…

Fuck it. He’s already texting you, so he might as well. The message sends at the same time a new message comes in from you.

Aki: Didn’t want to interrupt your date

You: You should’ve said hi :)

The three dots pop up right after. You’re typing.

You: Lol you should’ve. He was only trying to fuck and I wasn’t interested

You: He wandered off to talk to some other girl when I said no…so yeah

Aki: I’m sorry to hear that

Liar.

He thinks about that man at the bar touching all over you while you danced. You seemed to be having fun, enjoying yourself. Had he known your date was only trying to get in your pants, Aki may have opted to put his cigarette out between your date's eyes instead of his coworkers. He feels himself getting riled up again, but it’s short lived because your next text makes his heart race.

You: You home?

Aki: I am. What’s up?

You: Wanna come over for a glass of wine?

It’s a bad idea.

He climbs out of bed.

This is a horrible idea.

He slips on a pair of pants.

He’d ended things for a reason.

He slides his feet into his house shoes.

He’s going to fall right back into his old ways with you.

He’s out the door.

Aki knocks twice, his heart beating violently against his rib cage. He hears a bit of shuffling coming from the other side of the door and then the door opens and he sees you beaming before him.

“Hey,” you greet him softly, stepping aside.

It’s been so long since Aki has been over. He felt lightheaded from the moment he entered your space, his senses overcome with your presence, your scent, with you. Aki follows you through the entrance and into your living room, tries really hard not to watch the way your shorts give him little peeks of your ass with each step. Instead, he keeps his focus on your curls, piled messily atop your head in that cute pineapple style you sometimes wore before bed. Aki remembers how adorable he thought you were dressed down like this as he takes a seat on the couch while you head to the kitchen.

Your apartment is cute. It’s got all of the elements that make it you; from the accent pillows on your sofa, to the pictures lining your walls, and the nice glass of wine you fill with wine and hand to Aki. You take a seat next to him, sipping your drink before you start the conversation.

He half expected things to be awkward, given how your last interaction had ended and your lack of communication following those events, but conversation flows naturally.

You’re laughing, now on the end of your second glass of wine.

“And then,” you snort, covering your mouth and trying not to fall into a fit of giggles again. Aki can’t help his own grin listening to you. “And then, Denji tells me he had to—“

Your phone dinging interrupts your story.

“Sorry,” you say, unlocking your phone. Aki waves his hand.

“Go ahead.”

You swipe along your screen and Aki lets his gaze fall on your screen. He knows he shouldn’t. He regrets it immediately when he sees another man’s name on your screen. He doesn’t need to see the contents of the text, his body already reacting with annoyance. Aki can’t help the words that leave him next.

“Another date?” He shouldn’t have asked.

You look at him, brows furrowed. “Uh, yeah nosy. It is.”

Aki scoffs.

“What?” You ask, still typing a text to this fucking guy.

“Looks like you’ve got guys lined up to take you out these days.” The bitterness drips off every word. He doesn’t mean for it to, but he can’t help it.

You roll your eyes, sending your text to whatever guy that is and setting your phone on the table— face down, Aki notes.

“Do you have something you wanna say, Aki?”

Yeah, I made a mistake. You can stop dating these fucking losers. I’m here now.

That’s what he wants to say, but Aki shakes his head instead. He can tell he’s irritating you and the night has been going so well. He doesn’t want to fuck it up already.

“Of course not,” you mutter, another roll of your eyes. “You never do.”

Your sharp tone surprises Aki a bit, puts him on the defensive. The comment makes Aki set his own glass of wine down. “What the hell does that mean?”

“You know what it means.”

“Obviously not or I wouldn’t be asking you to clarify.”

You fidget with the hem of your shorts and Aki tries to keep his gaze on your face and not the way your shorts squeeze your plush thighs. He always did love that about you, the curves of your body. The way your form molded perfectly into his.

Focus. Aki tells himself. Because of course being in such close proximity to you turns his brain to mush.

“You just…any time something very obviously bothers you, you don’t say shit. You just run. You’re like that about everything.”

He knows you’re right. He knows exactly what you’re talking about.

“Is this about us?” He asks, cutting to the chase.

You nod, looking straight at Aki. You always looked right at him when you spoke. He admired that about you. The way you said everything with total honesty. You never lied, you never sugar coated the truth. You were far from a coward, unlike Aki. Your eyes bore into his soul and it was something that always scared him. Like you could see all of his intentions, all of his thoughts, of his desires.

“I miss you,” your soft voice cuts through Aki’s train of thought, your confession making Aki sit up straighter, eyes widening. “I’m sorry. I know I shouldn’t say that. After everything, after all this time—“

“I miss you, too,” Aki breathes. He can hear his blood rushing through his ears, thrumming loudly and he tries to calm his racing pulse so he can hear what you say next.

You sigh quietly next to him. “You do?”

Aki nods. “I missed you the second I ended whatever we were doing.”

“Then why did you?” You shift closer to Aki. “End things, I mean.”

Aki watches you closely, remembers what it was like to lounge around your place or his and just talk. Conversation never felt as heavy as it does in this moment.

That uncomfortable feeling in Aki’s chest begins to take over. The one that caused him to confront how deeply he cared for you. The one that scared him so badly he ran. Usually, he’d head outside for a cigarette to try and rid himself of this feeling but tonight, as he stares into those beautiful eyes of yours, it feels different. Listening to you laugh and talk to Aki like he didn’t break your heart, like no time has passed, it makes that feeling a little less terrifying. He wants to run, but not from you. He wants to run towards this feeling, embrace it to the best of his ability.

“I got scared,” he admits quietly, ashamed. But he’s already starting to open up. He has to keep going. “I’m going to be completely honest with you here, okay?”

You nod, wide eyes locked with Aki’s. “That’s all I’ve wanted from the beginning, Aki.”

You give him a soft smile and Aki reaches forward, grasping your hands in his.

“When we first started sleeping together, it was…great. Casual, fun, easy.”

“Right.”

“But, after a while it got harder and harder for me to keep it that way.” Aki pauses, tries to gather his thoughts before he continues. “It got harder to separate that I’m just the neighbor you fuck from time to time. The lines got blurred somewhere for me.”

He sighs your name.

“When I’m with you, you consume everything. All I can see is you. All I want to see is you. And we were never exclusive. You could see other people and so could I. But I didn’t want to see other people…” He sighs again, this time running his fingers through his hair before he takes your hands in his again. He wants a cigarette so fucking bad right now, but he needs to finish his honesty hour now or he never will. “I didn’t want you to see other people. Fuck, I still don’t.”

“Aki…” you breathe, squeezing his hands gently.

He chuckles dryly. “You have no idea.”

Your head tilts to the side, curls bouncing atop your head with the motion and Aki’s heart beats even faster.

“You have no fucking idea how hard it is to see you with another man, to hear you laughing and talking in the hall with some random fucking guy and inviting him in. I don’t…I don’t think I smoke more than when I hear that sound.”

There’s a long pause, your eyes searching Aki’s. For what? He’s not sure. But it must be good, because when you speak, it’s a quiet and gentle tone. Aki can appreciate this because he’s damn near about to burst with nerves from being so open with you already.

“If you felt that way all this time, Aki…why didn’t you say something sooner?”

“What would you have said if I did?”

“I would’ve said I feel the same way.”

You close the distance between you and Aki, your legs coming over each side of his lap as you straddle him. You loop your arms around his neck, Aki’s hands coming up to rest on your waist as you lean forward until your noses brush against each other’s, breaths mingling in the tiny space between you.

“Y-you feel the same way?” Aki repeats. He feels dizzy now, partly from being in such close proximity to you and from the fact that you smell so goddamn good. He can barely focus.

You nod your head, your nose caressing Aki’s with the motion. He can feel the heat radiating from between your thighs, teasing him in gentle waves. His grip on your waist tightens as he resists the urge to roll his hips upward.

“I don’t want to see you with anyone else either, Aki. And I don’t want anyone else,” you confess. “I only want you.”

It’s all he needs to hear before he surges forward, crashing his lips into yours, shoving his tongue into the warm cavern of your mouth when you gasp in surprise. It’s a messy kiss, full of teeth, full of desire, full of emotion, full of love.

Aki loves you. Deep down he’s always known it, always ignored it. But right now as you tangle your fingers in his hair and pull him closer to you, as you moan into his mouth and pull a whimper from deep within his chest, he knows for certain that he is head over fucking heels in love with you.

There’s no one else in this world who he wants to be with more than you. No one who makes Aki feel the way you do and his only regret is that he was too stubborn to embrace this feeling before.

He doesn’t have time to dwell on it though because you seat yourself comfortably in his lap, closing the distance between your groins and he can’t stop the groan that rushes out when he feels your clothed parts connect.

“Fuck, baby,” he sighs into your mouth. “I fucking missed you.”

“Yeah?”

You move your hips against his and Aki squeezes your waist, presses his face into the crook of your neck where he sucks a mark into your skin, making you moan quietly. “Fuck yeah,” he murmurs against you.

“Ah–Aki,” your fingers tug at his hair. He loves when you get needy like this. And you’ve barely started. “Show me how much you missed me,” you whisper.

He pulls back, his deep blue eyes watching you move your hips against him and he feels his dick twitch in his pants at the sight. Aki thinks he may lose his mind just watching. He glances up quickly, watching the way your kiss swollen lips part as you let out another moan.

“Feel good, baby?” Aki asks, smirking to himself when you can’t do anything but nod your head. His eyes follow all the dips and curves down your body until they’re back on his favorite spot between your legs. He could swear he feels his own eyes dilate when they see the wet spot in the center of your shorts that grows and grows with each roll of your hips. Aki swallows hard before he drags his finger along your clothed pussy.

His gaze glides back up your form until they rest on your face, watching as your mouth falls open with a silent cry. Aki slides a hand down your waist, to your ass where he taps one of your cheeks a couple times, and you know what it means. You sit up, momentarily hitting pause on your movements as Aki slips his finger underneath the fabric, tugs your shorts and panties to the side before his slender fingers slide along your folds. He sucks in a sharp breath when he feels how wet you are. He briefly dips his finger into your pussy, trying to stop his eyes from rolling back when he feels your soft walls clench down on his hand. He presses his thumb to your clit, slowly circling your sensitive nub.

Your hands have now found purchase on Aki’s shoulders where you squeeze, breaths coming rapidly as Aki pumps his finger in and out of your hole. Your bottom lip sits between your teeth. He knows you’re trying to be quiet, but he wants nothing more than to hear all those little sounds he used to get you to make.

Dark blue eyes lock with yours and Aki brings his other hand up to cup your cheek, his thumb swiping across your bottom lip, slowly coaxing your mouth open. “I wanna hear you, baby,” he tells you. “I want that asshole next door to know who’s making you feel so fucking good tonight.” He slips another finger into your pussy, presses his thumb against your clit and watches you visibly shudder above him. His cock aches within the confines of his pants.

“Ah– fuck, Aki, yes,” you breathe, your voice barely above a whisper.

“Louder,” he demands. And you obey, throwing your head back with a loud gasping moan as Aki’s hands push you closer and closer to the edge. “You’re so good for me, baby,” he coos, his dick only growing harder. “I love hearin’ you. Love makin’ you feel good. I love you.”

You’re his now and Aki wants everyone to know. He wants the piece of shit next door to hear you through the walls, screaming Aki’s name. Hell, he’s even tempted to dial up your asshole date, let him listen while Aki rips one orgasm after another from you. He’d really enjoy that. The thought is so tempting. But Aki’s gaze falls to where his palm cups your slick covered cunt, where your thick thighs tremble around his hand and he doesn’t give a fuck about any of that anymore.

He slowly thrusts his fingers inside of you, while his thumb stimulates your clit and he’s panting trying to hold himself together while you get closer to falling apart around him. Your hips move on their own, riding Aki’s hand, chasing your high. His fingers slip into you over and over, curling inside of you, hitting your sweet spot and you can’t help but to gasp quietly each time Aki reaches it.

You’re more vocal now, your head hidden away in the crook of Aki’s neck while you whimper and groan against him. He loves hearing you keening his name into his ear. Aki’s eyes are locked on your center where he watches his fingers disappear into your cunt over and over, your slick coating his hand more with each thrust. It only adds to Aki’s struggle to keep it together as he ignores the pulsing need of his cock. Your pleasured moans and the squelching sound of your dripping pussy fill the space of your living room.

“Aki…” you breathe harshly against him and he feels your walls squeeze down on his digits. You’re close.

“Gonna cum, love?” His fingers thrust into you slightly faster. He pushes you back, moving you out from the space of his neck so he can look at your face. “Let me see, baby,” he says, voice rough as his thumb rubs tight circles on your clit. Your eyes nearly roll to the back of your head, your mouth hanging open as a delicious moan rushes past your lips, your grip on Aki’s shoulders tightening so much it hurts. But he loves it, loves feeling your pussy squeezing down on his fingers, sucking them deeper as your release moves over your body.

He can feel your release dripping down his fingers into his palm as he keeps pumping into you. You lean forward, returning to your favorite spot at his neck where you leave sloppy kisses. He tilts his head to the side a bit to give you more access, groaning when you lick the spot right beneath his ear.

“Fuuuuck, you’re so perfect,” Aki sighs as he watches himself slowly pull his fingers from inside you, licking his lips as he stares at his hand covered in your slick. He runs his tongue over his palm, groaning loud when he tastes your sweet release on his tongue. His dick is so unbearably hard as he watches you suddenly climb off of his lap, slide your hands into your shorts and strip off both your shorts and your panties. Your shirt and your bra fall to the floor next and Aki feels very overdressed now.

His eyes drink in every little bit of your body. God, he missed every bit of you. That smooth brown skin and every dip and curve and those fucking thighs. He wants to be between them so fucking bad.

“You gonna stare all night or take your clothes off?”

Aki yanks his shirt over his head, his boxers and shorts are off next, a smirk spreading across his face when he sees how you lick your lips when his cock slaps against his belly when it’s finally free.

You approach, bending over to put your hands on Aki’s knees, prompting him to spread his legs for you. He can’t take his eyes off of you as you fall to your knees between his legs. You’re so sexy when you take control like this.

“Wanna make you feel good too,” you tell him, a hand coming up to grip the base of his cock and Aki’s hip involuntarily jerk upwards. His head falls back, a low moan already escaping him.

He’s missed your touch. He’s already worked up from making you cum and he’s missed you touching him so much he doesn’t know if he’ll last very long if you do what he thinks you’re about to.

Aki watches as your tongue rolls out of your mouth, pink and wet and he inhales sharply when he sees the little grin you get as his cock throbs in your hand.

“I missed this dick, Aki,” you whisper, leaning forward and placing a soft kiss to the red tip. He hisses, hips coming up again as he whimpers your name. You bring your other hand up to wrap around the head of his dick, tongue teasing the smooth, wet head for just a moment before you take him in your mouth. Aki’s chest rises and falls with shallow breaths as he watches you swallow inch after inch of him. He lets out a strangled moan when the head of his cock touches the back of your throat.

“Goddamn, baby,” Aki chokes. “Gimme a second. Hold on.”

He runs his fingers through his hair, takes a deep breath to try and gain his composure…only to let out something between a sharp gasp and a loud whimper when you swallow around the head of his cock, taking Aki even deeper. You hum around his dick, the vibrations making Aki arch against the couch and thrust his hips forward.

“Oh fuck,” Aki groans. And he wants to grab your hair and push you down further, but he doesn’t want to fuck up your curls. He knows how hard you work to maintain them. He opts to bring one hand to your jaw, holding your face while your lips work up and down his length, Aki shivering at the way your tongue worships the veiny underside.

You hum again as your head bobs up and down, up and down, taking Aki impossibly deeper down your throat every time. More vibrations and your fingers come up, caressing his balls, the skin tight already as Aki squeezes his eyes shut and tries so hard not to cum down your throat. “Ah–shit, shit!”

You pull off Aki’s cock with a loud POP, sucking in a deep breath as your hand strokes him up and down. Aki is grateful for the small break because he was so close to literally drowning you in his release if you kept sucking his dick the way you were.

“Fuck, you’re perfect.” Your chin is dripping with your saliva. Aki stares through hooded eyes as you lift your other hand to wipe it away and he can’t help but to fall even more in love with you. You’re breathtaking, sexy, everything he’s ever wanted and in this moment he swears to himself that he’ll never let you go again.

“You’re so pretty,” Aki blurts. “My pretty girl.” He can’t help himself. He’s got tunnel vision. Only for you. His heart is pounding against his ribcage as he gazes at you lovingly. He leans forward. Reaching his hand out, he cups the back of your neck and pulls you to him, slamming his mouth against yours. A deep, guttural groan transfers from his mouth to yours, a result of tasting the mixture of your release and his arousal on his tongue and your hand still pumping his cock between you two. It’s dizzying. Aki won’t last much longer.

“C’mere,” he grunts, pulling you up from the floor. “Bend over for me, baby.”

And you do as he asks, climbing on to the couch and bending so that you’re on all fours.

“Aki…” you whine, wiggling your ass for him teasingly. Damn, he missed this. He chuckles, softly slaps your right cheek and then your left, groaning when he sees the way your ass jiggles for him.

Yeah, he’s definitely not gonna last long with this view.

Aki readjusts his position, one knee on the couch and the other foot on the floor. In this position, he can see how wet you are, practically dripping for him. He loves seeing you like this. Ready and wanting– wanting Aki and Aki only.

“Ready, baby?” He asks.

“Yes, Aki, fuck me, please…” you moan. “I need you so fucking bad right now, Aki.”

Aki takes his cock in his hand, squeezing hard and stroking, a bead up precum dripping onto your couch. He’ll apologize for that later, but right now all he wants is to be as deep inside your tight, wet cunt as physically possible.

He guides the tip to your entrance and pushes forward, eyes rolling back with pleasure when he feels the tip barely slide in before your walls and trying to suck him inside. Even so, he resists bottoming out immediately, pushing into you slowly, so slowly until his hips are pressed tight against your ass. You keen into the cushions of the couch, the muffled sound only making Aki more eager to push forward. So he does, skin igniting with goosebumps the deeper he goes.

You feel so. fucking. good.

Once he’s fully sheathed inside you, Aki places a hand on each cheek, spreading your ass open so he can watch himself disappear into your pussy. You lift your head, glancing back, over your shoulder to look at Aki. He glances up, eyes connecting with yours. And then he drapes himself over you, his skin fire hot against your back, and he pressed a wet kiss to your lips, to that spot behind your ear that makes your pussy squeeze down on him, down your jaw, down your back.

“Fuuuuuck, baby, you feel so good,” he whispers raggedly as he pulls out just barely, then pushes back in again. Aki takes his time, pumps his hips in short thrusts. He slides his fingers down to your clit and rubs in slow circles, grunting when you push your hips down against his hand.

Your face is back in the cushions where you’re moaning a string of incoherent noises, louder and louder as Aki begins to really start fucking into you. His hands are back on your ass, watching his cock drive in and out of your pussy, moaning at the sight of the white cream forming at the base of his cock.

“So tight, baby, so fucking tight,” he grunts, lifting both hands only to bring them back down to smack your ass. You cry out into the cushions, muffling the sound and Aki reaches around to grab your jaw, pulling you up.

“Thought I told you to let them hear you, baby,” with his free hand he smacks your ass, hard, the loud gasp you let out morphing into a loud moan when Aki gently rubs his hand over the area, soothing it.

“That’s it, let everyone know who’s making you feel good tonight. Every fucking night from now on,” He lets go of your jaw, reveling in the way you no longer hide your whines, moans, cries of pleasure. Everyone in this apartment should know it’s Aki who is fucking you so damn good right now. And it’ll be Aki fucking you like this from now on. No one else. Only him. You’re his and he’s yours.

His hands come down on your ass again with a loud SMACK and you scream Aki’s name, your walls clamping down on his cock. His blue eyes are locked on your ass. To the way those round globes bounce with each hard thrust and he has to see more. He spreads your cheeks, watches your little hole clench around nothing as he fucks into your pussy. He wants to be in there, thinks about sticking his finger in there, wonders what it would feel to cum in there. But he’s not going anywhere. He’ll find out soon enough.

Aki leans forward and presses a kiss to the center of your back, brows knitting together in an attempt to not cum when you moan softly at the gesture. His balls are so tight, painfully so. He needs to cum and soon.

“Baby,” he breathes against your skin, reaching around to rub your clit again, gritting his teeth when you pant softly into the pillow, your walls fluttering weakly around Aki’s cock and he knows you’re almost there. He rubs tight circles on your sensitive nub, kisses that spot on your back again and you moan a little louder. “Cum for me, baby. Let me hear it.” Another kiss to your back and a particularly sharp flick to your clit. “Give it to me baby. You can do it. Cum for me.”

And you do.

You let out a sharp cry, your moans no longer muffled by the cushions. Your release tears through your body, your walls vice gripping Aki’s cock, sucking him in with no intention of letting go. And that’s it for Aki. His fingers dig into the meat of your ass, forehead pressed into your back as he finds his own release, pumping into you one, two times before he fills your pussy to the brim with his cum. He’s gasping, grunting through gritted teeth as your cunt pulls every last drop from him.

You’re both still catching your breath when Aki pulls out, affectionately sliding his hand down your back before he wraps his arm around your waist and pulls you down with him as he lays back on the couch.

“Oh my god,” you breathe, turning to look at him. His cheeks are pink, hair damp and clinging to his forehead. He laughs.

“God, I missed this,” Aki says, pushing his hair from his face. “I love you,” he confesses quietly, kissing your forehead.

“I love you, too.” You roll over the best you can on the couch while your legs feel like jelly and snuggle into Aki’s side. He wraps an arm around you. You’re both quiet for some time, simply enjoying each other’s presence. It’s only when Aki starts to shift that you sit up.

“Will you stay?” You ask, turning toward Aki and brushing his stray hairs from his face.

“Yes,” Aki promises, kissing your head again. “I’m not going anywhere.”

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