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#so the dream may have been a vision
lavendersartistry · 2 months
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Devil Nightmares
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Space Riders AU - @onyxonline Eve Ewe, Bolt - @lavendersartistry
(CW/TW: nightmares, panic attack)
This is an angst/comfort fic for onyxonline's Space Riders AU! This is mainly centered my OCs Eve Ewe and Bolt! Please check Oynx out, their work is super cool!
Although the skies of the galaxies were forever a sunset to nightfall, it was no later than 9 in the planet of the Lilim.
Its princess, Eve, resigned to her chambers in the west palace, the planet's natural flora greeting her as she entered the room. She took a moment to touch the lotuses in the lily pond close to her balcony, enjoying their fresh and sweet scent.
She looked out to the windows and glanced at the stars and the faraway planets. She took a moment to remember how she and her sister tried counting how many planets there were and how many would soon come to their world in the following years. Now, that time had stopped.
Now, Eve would become a queen and her sister to be general their planet's military.
Eve quickly shook the thought and began to settle for the night. Her favorite book was at the edge of the other side, the portraits of her parents and grandmother looking back at how she had grown. She couldn't help but smile at how proud they could be while they watch over her with their goddess.
With a quick, soft clap of her hands, her lights dimmed as she hurried into bed. Then, to dream.
...........
The unnerving void of nothingness felt like eyes were on Eve that watched her every move. She felt cold, yet she couldn't shiver nor try to exhale the coldness.
Red smoke clouded her view and it felt potent to her senses to even try to breathe in, so she kept her mouth closed. Eve kept walking on, to at least find a exit to this strange place.
Then.
A hand. Then another. Then more. All, so many, grabbed at her as whispers echoed in her ears.
"Join him." "He will bring us salvation." "He is our God."
And Eve ran. Ran far away from whatever was trying to lead her astray. She couldn't look back, not when she could feel those creatures, those voices, right behind her.
It felt like a loop, a never-ending hall to nowhere, no escape. Eve was starting to feel hopeless, like there was no one to come for her. She was vulnerable, easy to take and to indoctrinate. She couldn't even bear to look as the voices captured her and a long, lanky hand reached out for her as the sufferable red smoke corrupted her mind and her soul.
...........
Eve never thought she could scream so loudly. She was in brink of sweat as tears rolled down her face and her hands shook violently.
Her chamber doors opened immediately as the dark wolf critter, her guard Bolt, looked at her with concern.
"Princess? You screamed. Are you-"
Bolt took a moment to realize how she was clutching onto her evening blouse tightly and her breathing rapid. He rushed to her side and kneeled.
"Can you hold my hands?"
Eve turned to him and quickly grabbed his hands as she looked down to her lap.
Bolt didn't clutch her hands nor fully held them. He knew she needed room as he did what he could to get her back calm. He spoke softly, never looking away.
"Good, princesa. Now breathe with me."
The dark wolf critter demonstrated first as his paws rubbed her hands to soothe her shakiness a little. Eve listened to him and started to take deep breaths, the shakiness in her voice slowly soothing away.
"Good, good. Now, tell me what do you see."
Eve's eyes glanced around her chambers before opening her mouth to speak despite her screaming earlier created a painful sensation to her throat.
"I... I see the lotuses.."
"What else do you see?"
"I see you.."
Bolt nodded softly as he sat up and guided her to the lily pond, his eyes on her. The two sat down at the edge, the lotuses gliding in the water.
He kept his eyes on the princess and held her close, his paw and her hand intertwined. With a small exhale, he softly sang a old song.
Seas invite in the evening sun,
To light the somber abyss.
Clouds dance up with the heavens stars,
Chanting an air of joyous bliss.
Water fades back from blue to jade,
Guiding young rainbows high.
Flowers bloom in to reds and whites,
Quenching our hearts as they run dry.
Angels chained,
By a beast locked in slumber.
Sin washed away,
By the swift flow of time.
I may know the answers,
Journey over snow and sand.
What twist of fate has brought us,
To tread upon this land?
Bolt looked down at Eve, noticing how she had gotten calmer after his song. He rest his chin on top of her head as his paws gently went through her hair.
Whatever her dream was, whatever had frightened her like this, was now a priority to discover.
The dark wolf critter looked down at her with a soft, small smile.
"Don't worry, my princess. Nothing will happen to you or our home as long as I am here and our friends."
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seventeendeer · 7 months
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adventure time, baby, I'm going to keep it real with you: you had the perfect meta setup (a spinoff of a children's cartoon made for adults who grew up with said cartoon) for a story about two characters desperate to return to simpler times (fionna longing for the subconscious memory of a fantasy land where nothing is complex and she won't have to face the trials of young adulthood in her now-mundane world, simon longing to lose his mind again so he won't have to remember his grief) coming to realize that the "simpler times" they remember were never as straightforward as their idealized memories (fionna realizing that her black-and-white worldview was actually just deeply biased and ultimately harmful, simon realizing that ice king was just as miserable as simon himself and simply lacked the tools to parse his own emotions), the idealized past they want to return to was never real, and in order to move forward, they have to face the painful realities they've been trying to avoid, mature as people, and learn to see beauty and value in their own respective lives, even if they're not the lives they'd hoped for
and then that didn't happen. there was a perfect metaphor for the false allure of nostalgia using THE "whimsical at first glance/shockingly grim under the surface" children's cartoon RIGHT THERE. How Did You Fuck That Up
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hwanswerland · 5 days
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at the rate this is going I'm seriously debating not even going to the tour
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thedeadthree · 3 months
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ok ok FINEE ill make a g*ojo girlie anything for pookie i GUESS!! <3
#leg.txt#*personal#said with pure love of course hehe <3 anyway!! guess who is FINALLY watching j*jk !!!!!!!!#IM SLOW AS SNAILS BUT MY SIB AND I BINGE WATCHED FIVE OR SIX EPS STRAIGHT (when i left off i was on ep2??)#i think it was like 2ish and then i went to my room to sleep and like GOOOJOO i would give my kidney for him im so serious#minako my t*oji girlie your brother is so important to MEE#anyway onto the g*ojo girlie mins future sister in law NDHNKJHDN#trying to think of her thing i mean f*lemeth/m*orrigan d*ragon age's abilities but make it j*jk would be fun?#or biomancy maybe? i was playing r*ogue trader and the p*syker powers would be a neat concept?#that or technomancy?? could be fun??????#if i went the flem/mori route making her mom be sort of like flem where she takes the bodies of her daughters to keep her immortality HMM#anyway all this to say besties I SEE THE VISION NOW i did before but i am PERCEIVING for realsies this time!!!!!!!#i am thinkin that whatever i dont choose i may give to a possible n*anami girlie and minako becomes a full time t*oji girlie <3#t*oji AND ch*oso for minako <3 VERY excited to develop her and her relationships with her men!! peachy keen dream babiee!!!! 🌸💕#sorry besties about all of the asterisks jnsahd i was like YEESH on having this in the tags :') anyway i hope yall are well !!!!!!!!#off to the r*ogue trader brainworms bc HEHHEHE my girlie finally met love of her life h*einrix and HES SO!!!!!!!!#ill do a whole worms for brains yelling sesh about him later bc AHHHHHHH i would also give my kidney for him im so serious *wheeze*#hes known her for five minutes hes giggling twirling hair and giving her gifts yesterday i was SHRIEKING AT FOUR AM!!!!!!!!!#its been fun giving my brain a break from the w*itcher braiworms to prevent my burnout while i brainstorm the ye olde fic <3
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sukugo · 1 year
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Anaobiluke??!? You have to tell me more
YEAH anaobiluke!!!!!! i love them sooo much <33
lately i've been thinking a bit about force ghosts obikin + luke especially! i'd been thinking a lot about anakin and luke's relationship after the whole thing u know? i think it'd be a very interesting relationship, with neither knowing how to navigate it.
luke's all holy shit, that's my dad. that he's finally getting to know outside of the whole vader thing. meanwhile anakin is 45 and never fucking learned how to properly form relationships.
and like, anakin loves luke!!! he loves him so much!! but i think he'd have a very hard time actually expressing that and dealing with the whole thing
so i feel like obi-wan would def act as some kind of glue between them, a way for them to connect through him.
and well, in the midst of all that, i feel like luke, getting to spend time with force ghosts obikin, would start noticing the ways obi-wan and anakin interact, and how there is something definitely going on between them. the heated loving looks, the lingering touches, the casual intimacy. ben had never mentioned anything about it. but the affection in his words and the longing when he'd talk to him about anakin. it all kinda seems to click.
luke....doesn't know how to feel about it. he feels? weird?
and it's not even jealousy? or is it jealousy? bc he had been a bit interested in obi-wan. so was learning that obi-wan was taken by someone (his dad) making him feel jealous?
but. it isn't that.
sure, everytime obi-wan holds anakin's face, and grips his skin a bit too hard, and stares at him like that. and anakin gasps against his touches, his skin flushes, arousal running through his veins (luke can feel it through the force) (a bit too much) he sometimes wishes to have some of that warmth, too. maybe he was just lonely and wanted someone, too (han and leia had been especially annoying about that lately)
but, there's something else.
bc luke's slowly realizing that his eyes are lingering on anakin, his father, for moments that stretch out a bit too long (anakin was beautiful. it was hard for anyone to not be entranced by his effortless beauty). still, there is smth about his father that pulls at every fiber of his being. he wouldn't be able to take off his eyes even if he wanted to. he wouldn't be able to stop the desire from spreading through him even if he wanted to.
and fuck, luke wants him.
and then we have anakin, who is an incredibly possessive lover. and that goes for all types of love. luke is his son, he is anakin's (like obi-wan is as well). and anakin wants luke. wants ALL of luke. it's what's rightfully his, his creation (his son, not anybody else's)
and when anakin wants something, the Force will give it to him
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heartfullofleeches · 4 months
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Loser Reader gets kidnapped by a cult believing they would make for the ideal virgin sacrifice as the cultists conclude from their master's visions, but spoiler alert the dead god just wants to show the cultists the human it had mated itself too and has spent many nights with in their eternal slumber. Reader's not a virgin if they're having sex with an all powerful deity in their sleep - right? Yan God concretes their status as impure by possessing the cult leader and making love to their bethroned before their flesh is sacrificed. Reader is confused as hell through this whole ordeal and all the wild dreams they've been having - but they get laid in the end and don't end up with their heart on a stick so everyone wins in the end... Except the cultists who may have been a little too rough with reader in transport
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drudyslut · 2 months
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— summary: Rafe finds out about some of your darkest fantasies and decides to bring them to life.
— warnings: smut! 18+ non/dub con, kidnapping, rafe chases reader through the woods, bondage, open-mouth gag, breath play, edging, fingering, ass play, biting, forced blow job, knife play, forced unprotected sex, forced creampie, spitting, slapping, spanking, branding, hair pulling, choking, degrading, praise kink, sir kink, possessive!rafe, sub!reader, dark!rafe. (is this considered DDDNE?)
— note: my book series has sparked the DARKEST parts of my mind… please read all warnings carefully! this is a work of fiction! if you’re uncomfortable with anything in the warnings, DO NOT READ. DO NOT READ UNLESS 18+ !!
likes, comments + reblogs are appreciated <3
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❥ run, little one— r.c
Y/N
“Run, little one! ‘Cause when I catch you, you’re going to wish I hadn’t”
Rafe’s voice booms through the dark woods, my pulse is racing, blood rushing to my ears, nothing but the sounds of my heavy breathing and ringing fill my ears. My eyes scan the length of the woods, I have no clue where I am, and i’m terrified, but i’m also soaked.
Thoughts of what Rafe would do to me when he catches me have my panties dripping with my arousal, pussy pulsing with need. It may be fucked up, but the fear of the unknown, the thought of the pain he’d bring me is what got me excited. The pure rush of adrenaline, not having a choice in anything, him being forceful and rough with me— it excited me.
The sound of a branch snapping behind me makes me gasp, my feet taking off through the woods again, running, hoping I can find anywhere to hide. I take a turn, thinking i’d finally lost him but a loud scream is ripped from my chest when I run into something hard, the impact knocking the breath out of me and making me fall right on my ass.
“Shhhh, don’t worry princess, ‘m gonna take good care of you” Rafe whispers in my ear.
I feel something slapped over my mouth, preventing me from screaming and then my vision goes black. My eyes rip open, realizing i’d been dreaming, but now i’m not. My face is covered by a black hood, duct tape over my lips, making unintelligible noises fall from me. I hear the sound of metal clanking, and Rafe roughly forces my arms behind my back, crossing them before slapping handcuffs on and tightening them so tight they pinch at the skin of my wrists.
Rafe lifts me from the bed and tosses me over his shoulder. I begin pounding at his back as best I could with my restrained fists, screaming into the duct tape, trying to fight for him to put me down, but it’s useless.
A harsh slap is landed across my ass cheek, exposed by the short sleep shorts i’d put on before my nap, making me whimper from the contact.
The sound of a door opening and closing makes me jump, the cool fall air hitting at my skin and sending goosebumps up my body. What is he doing? Where is he taking me? I was terrified, but I was also ashamed at how soaked I was, my pussy throbbing as he carried me outside and to God knows where.
I hear him open a car door, my body being tossed into the back seat before he slams the door shut and hopping into the driver seat.
I hear the truck pull out onto the road, the windows rolling down and letting the cold air slap at my bare skin. I try my best to roll onto my stomach in the seat, my handcuffed wrists pinned underneath my back uncomfortable and making me whine.
I try and shout through the tape some more, wanting answers as to what was going through Rafe’s mind, but my body sags into the backseats, remembering it’s useless, my mouth is literally taped shut.
“Don’t worry, little one. We’re gonna have some fun”
I whimper at his words as he turns the radio in his truck up, “Church” by Chase Atlantic the last thing I hear before my mind goes blank.
-
RAFE
I pull down the long and over grown driveway, the large cabin that’s sat abandoned for few years finally coming into view. I smirk to myself, my eyes glancing up into the rearview mirror to see Y/N laid still in the backseat. She’d finally stopped whimpering and squirming about thirty minutes into the drive, probably made herself pass out, she was exhausted, and I had woken her from her nap to have some fun.
My girl doesn’t know it, but i’ve been reading her dream journals, her diaries, getting an inside peek at her dark and dirty mind. My girl wants to be chased, wants to be bound and gagged, having any choice or control taken from her. She wants me to be forceful with her, she wants me to hurt her, make her cry, make her beg me to stop— when her mind and pussy are really begging me to continue.
She has no idea what I have in store for her tonight, and the thought of her whimpering, unable to see, speak, breathe, tell me no. It had my cock straining against the fabric of my jeans.
I pull the truck to a stop, shutting the engine off and hopping out to open the back seat door. “Time to wake up, little one. Let the fun begin” I whisper in her ear, the weight of my body pressing down on her bare legs.
She begins squirming in the seat, the sounds of her muffled cries filling my ears, blood rushing to my already painfully hard cock. She must have thought she was still dreaming this whole time, and waking up — completely stripped of her ability to see or speak — She must be terrified again, exactly how I want her.
I carefully scoop her body into my arms, her head and legs trashing from side to side as unintelligible noises fall past her lips. I walk us into the cabin, glancing around at everything i’d set up, i’d been planning this for weeks, getting everything i’d need to have some fun with my girl. There’s a large mattress sitting on a metal bed frame pushed against the wall, laid out on it are ropes, an open-mouth gag, a silky red blindfold, various toys, and a long paddle whip that has the word WHORE engraved into it.
Smirking to myself, I continue walking through the old cabin and out the back door. When I finally decide we’re far enough into the woods, I set her body down on the ground, removing the black hood from her head and yanking the duct tape from her lips.
Her eyes rip open, going wide as she whips her head around, taking in her surroundings. “R-Rafe? Where- Where are we? Why did you fucking kidnap me?!” She shouts, a small look of fear in her eyes.
I smirk, “You’ll get a five minute head start, little one” I pause, watching in amusement as her chest heaves up and down, my eyes scanning over her plump breasts as they threaten to spill out of the small top she’s wearing. “Hope you can run fast, and hide well. Because if I catch you, you’re mine to use however I want”
She begins struggling to stand, her wrists still cuffed behind her back making a fairly simple task more difficult. I watch her struggle for a moment before I bend over and grip the inside of her left arm, jerking her to her feet. She winces when rocks and twigs begin stabbing at the bottoms of her bare feet, “Rafe! This isn’t funny, undo the cuffs, I wanna go home”
“Now, now Y/N.. I’ve read your dream journals, your diaries. I know all of the sick and twisted dreams and thoughts you have. I know exactly what you want me to do to you, why should I deprive you of what you want?”
Her eyes nearly pop out of her head, her face turning a deep shade of red, shame taking over her features when she hears the words that slip past my lips. I take a step toward her, and she flinches back, but it doesn’t stop me. I reach my hand out, the pad of my thumb running over her mascara stained cheek, “No need to be ashamed, we all have our kinks baby” I pause, placing my hand on the back of her head and pulling her forehead into my lips, kissing softly at the skin before I pull back and whisper, “Now run”
-
Y/N
“Now run”
His words make my heart begin hammering in my chest, my body turning as I begin running through the dark woods. I’m dodging trees, trying not to scream out in pain as twigs, and rocks and God knows what else stabs at the bottom of my feet.
My ears begin ringing, my head throbbing when I come to a stop, trying my hardest to catch my breath. My head whips from side to side, trying to find anywhere to hide, but all I see if acres and acres of woods. The sound of a twig snapping close by makes me take off running again, I run and run, afraid to stop. I shouldn’t be so turned on, but I am. Part of me wants to get caught, wants to let him use me however he pleases, but the smallest part inside me that says to keep running wins.
I come to another stop after what felt like hours of running, my back pressed against a tree. My throat is sore, lips and mouth dry from my heavy breathing. I peek around the side of the tree, but all I see if darkness. I let out a sigh of relief thinking i’d lost him for the time being, but that thought is quickly gone when I feel rough hands grabbing the backs of my arms, twisting them in an uncomfortable way, making me scream out in pain.
“Caught you” I hear Rafe say, voice low and raspy.
I begin kicking and screaming, trying to push myself out of his grip, but it’s no use, he’s got me in a tight hold. He lifts my feet from the ground, tossing me over his shoulder as he begins walking through the woods. I don’t stop fighting, my body thrashing in his hold. “Rafe! Rafe stop!” I shout, but he ignores me, continuing his way through the woods until he finally comes to a stop.
“Time to have some fun, yeah?” He asks. He lands a harsh slap across my ass again, making me whimper from the contact, the sting his hand left behind making my pussy throb.
He walks us up some stairs, and into an old house. The house smells musty, the air stale, and the floors are covered in leaves and trash. “Where are we?” I ask softly, voice barely above a whisper.
“This, little one, is our playroom” He says simply, tone of voice void of any emotion.
I let my eyes trail upward, finding a large bed on a metal frame pushed against a wall. My heart begins pounding, the loud thump of my own heart the only noise I can hear in the moment. He has the bed laid out with ropes, a wooden paddle, a few toys, an open-mouthed gag, and a red blindfold.
My mind tells me I should be afraid, but my body doesn’t react that way. My nipples harden underneath the thin fabric of my small shirt i’d tossed on earlier, panties now soaked, likely dripping with my arousal.
Rafe uses one hand to tightly wrap around the underside of my knees, keeping me in place on his shoulder while his free hand begins moving the things on the bed, clearing an open space for me to be laid down.
Once satisfied with the now open space on the bed, he flips me off his shoulder and onto the bed, my still handcuffed wrists pinning beneath me on the bed, making me wince in pain. I watch him intently as he makes his way toward a small table that’s off to the corner, grabbing the rope he’d just removed from the bed.
He makes his way to the end of the bed, grabbing my right ankle and tying the rope around it before securing the other end to one end of the metal bed frame, moving to my left ankle and repeating his actions. Satisfied with my bound ankles, he digs into his pocket, digging out a key that I can only assume belongs to the cuffs that restrain my wrists. He grips my by the top of my head, fingers tightly fisting at my hair and yanking me into a sitting position, sticking the key into the lock of the cuffs and undoing them.
I bring them to the front of my body to rub them. they’re now red and sore from how tightly he had them on my wrists, but he quickly pushes me onto my back, “don’t get too comfortable, little one” he says, a smirk plastered on his beautiful face while he climbs on top of me, straddling my waist. He harshly grabs my left wrist, pulling it above my head and reaching over to the table to grab the other set of rope he had. He pins my wrist against another metal bar, tying my wrist to it before moving to my right side and copying his actions.
He climbs off of me, his bottom lip between his teeth as his darkened over eyes scan my body. “Fucking gorgeous” He whispers, and my body jerks. I instinctively try and yank my wrists down, making the rope dig into them, making me pathetically whimper.
Rafe walks back over toward the table, pulling his tightly fitted black shirt over his head and tossing it down. I can’t help but let my eyes trail over his perfectly sculpted chest and abdomen. He grabs the open mouthed gag off the table before slowly making his way back over to me. I try and fight my restraints again, but stop when he harshly grips at the back of my head, yanking my neck up and forcing my eyes on the ceiling.
“Don’t fight this, princess. Okay?”
I whimper out an “okay” before he lets my head go, my neck returning back to a normal forward facing position. He brings his fingers to my slightly parted lips, pushing them inside my mouth and down my throat, making me gag around the thick digits before he pulls them out. “Keep your mouth open”
I obey, keeping my mouth open as wide as I could get it while he places the circular part of the gag into my mouth and behind my teeth. He pulls both sides of the leather straps around my head, buckling it together and tightening it so it’s secure. He pulls back and admires his work, my mouth spread wide open, hands and legs bound to the bed frame, spread open wide for him to use.
“Perfect” He says, the corners of his lips pulling into a smirk.
-
RAFE
The sight before me is like something straight out of my dreams. She looks so fucking gorgeous like this, her arms and legs tied to the bed frame, spread wide open for me to use, her mouth gagged, but still open wide for me, allowing me access to shove my cock down her throat, spit into her mouth, shove my fingers into her throat. I trail my eyes from her beautiful face down to her glistening cunt, she’s fucking soaked for me, ready to be fucking used.
I climb myself onto the bed, her arms and legs jerking, pulling the ropes tighter into her smooth skin. Drool is running from her mouth, down her chin and onto her plump breasts, whimpers and whines falling from her as she continues to try and fight the restraints.
“Keep fighting Y/N/N, I want you scared. I prefer it actually, it’ll make forcing my cock down your throat and in your cunt that much more fun”
I reach over onto the small side table and grab the blindfold, the sounds of her whimpers bouncing off the walls of the old cabin, making my hard cock pulse. I crawl up the bed, sitting between her spread thighs and bringing the blindfold up to her face. She whines, shaking her head from side to side, but I grip her cheeks harshly with my left hand. “Stay still” I demand, and she quickly obeys, stopping her movements, her beautiful, wide eyes staring back into mine.
I quickly place the silky material over her eyes, bringing the two ends around the back of her head and tying it as tightly as I could.
Her breathing picks up, chest heaving up and down rapidly once i’ve taken away her sight once again. I smirk to myself and reach into my back pocket, pulling out my phone and turning the back camera toward her trembling body, snapping a quick picture of her before locking it and tossing it to the table.
I reach into my other back pocket, pulling out a pocket knife and flipping it open. I hear her whimper at the sound of the knife opening, her arms jerking downward some more as she spews unintelligible words from her drooling lips. I bring the blade down to her inner thigh, running it up the length of her leg until it reaches her clothed pussy. “Let’s get these off, yeah?” I say lowly before bringing the blade to one of the leg holes of her shorts, slicing upward until the material pools by the sides of her legs.
My eyes find her cunt again, staring at the wet spot that’s soaked through the pink lacey material. “My girls fucking soaked, you like having no control?”
She whines, her head slowly nodding. I bring the blade back up to the waistband of her panties, running the sharp end across her stomach before I cut her panties off of her body as well. I tap at her thigh, ordering her, “Lift your hips, little one”
She quickly does as I say, lifting her hips as best she could off the mattress, allowing me to pull the now ruined shorts and panties from underneath her. Tossing the shredded material to the floor, I bring the blade back to her pussy, flipping it so the blade is in my palm. I run the handle of the pocket knife through her slick cunt, running it up to her clit and applying a small amount of pressure. Her hips buck forward and I take my free hand, pushing her hips back down and holding her in place. I run the handle back down to her folds, slowly pushing it into her pussy, stopping when the entire handle is inside of her.
She begins whimpering, her chest heaving and head rolled to the side as I begin pulling the handle from her cunt, pushing it back inside of her just as quickly. I love the way her body reacts to me, the way she’s letting me fuck her with the handle of my knife, my filthy fucking girl loves this shit.
I continue to fuck her with the handle of the knife and her body begins shaking, her legs tensing as her restrained fists ball above her head. “That’s it baby, let it out, cum all over the handle of my knife”
She begins panting, drool running down the sides of her mouth and down her chin, soaking her chest as she comes undone, her cum soaking the handle. I slowly pull it from inside her, bringing it to her open mouth and shoving it inside, running it up and down the length of her tongue, coating her mouth with her juices. “Good girl. Taste yourself, you did such a good job f’me, little one”
I pull the handle from her mouth, her head flying forward and chasing it, making me breathe out a laugh. I quickly flip the knife shut and sit it on the small table. I stand from the bed, and my hands pop the button of my jeans before moving the the zipper. I slide the rough material down my legs and to my ankles before kicking them to the side. I palm myself through my boxers, trying to relieve some of the pressure I felt from just staring at her like this, thinking of how she just came from the handle of my knife, it has my head spinning, my cock throbbing.
I shake my head, shoving my boxers down my legs and kicking them to the side as well before climbing back into the bed, her breath hitching in her throat when she feels my presence on the mattress again. I bring my hand to her face, wiping at the fresh tears that have fallen down her face, smearing more of her mascara on her face. I run the pad of my thumb over her bottom lip, it’s soaked in her drool. I push my thumb into her mouth, and she instinctively tries to close her lips around it, but fails, the metal part of the gag keeping her mouth open wide for me.
I lean myself into her, my lips ghosting over the shell of her ear. “‘M gonna fuck your throat now, little one, and you’re going to fucking love it”
-
Y/N
His words whispered in my ear send goosebumps down my body, my more breathing erratic than it had already been. I try and swallow, but fail, the gag in my mouth making it difficult to do anything but drool all over myself. He’s barely touched me, and I can guarantee I look like a fucked out mess.
I feel his hand on my cheek again, his waist now straddling my chest as he runs his thumb over the length of my face and lips. He shoves two fingers down my throat again, holding them there as I gag around them. Pulling them from my throat, he demands, “Stick your tongue out” and I quickly obey, sticking my tongue out for him. I feel him spit into my mouth, the saliva hitting the flat of my tongue, and sliding into the back of my throat. I bring my tongue back into my mouth, and wince when I feel a harsh smack landed across my face.
“I didn’t say you could do anything, tongue back out. Now” Rafe says, tone harsh and demanding. I quickly push my tongue back out, the swollen head of his cock slapping against it as he groans.
I feel him slide his head into my mouth slowly and he moans, the feel of the circular metal part of the gag in my mouth squeezing at him tightly. He continues to push himself further into my mouth until he finally reaches the back of my throat, his swollen tip kissing the back of my throat making me gag. Saliva pools in my mouth, drool running down the sides of my lips when he begins slowly pulling himself back out, slamming his hips forward again. I gag around him, trying to swallow the saliva in my mouth, but I can’t, the gag makes it hard to do anything.
He places one hand on my cheek, his free hand moving to the back of my head and gripping at my hair, his grip tight and bruising. He quickly settles on a harsh and quick pace of his hips, pulling himself back and slamming his pelvis into my face. My mouth is forced open wide for him, allowing him to fuck my throat with ease. He begins grunting loudly, his hips stuttering before he quickly pulls his hips back, spit flying from my mouth as I cough and gasp, trying to catch my breath.
“Goddamn. You took me so well, such a good fucking girl…” He rasps, his left hand finding my cheek, stroking down the soft skin. He takes his free hand and brings it between my legs, running his fingers through my arousal slick folds, sucking in a sharp breath when he feels just how soaked I am.
“You’re soaked, sweetheart. You like being forced to do things? Like having your body used?”
I whimper at his words, every single one of them were true. I hated my body for reacting to such vile things, such forceful and disgusting behavior, but I couldn’t help it. Was there something wrong with me? Surely it’s not normal to get aroused at the thought of — or the action itself — being used, hurt, given no choice in the matter. But I could no longer deny it, my body craved the unknown, craved the fear and the pain, I wanted to be used, forced to do whatever he wanted me to do. I loved being his good girl, and I loved being his whore.
Rafe reaches behind my head, fingers grabbing at the buckle that strapped the gag to my face. He quickly undoes it and pulls the straps down the sides of my face before reaching inside my mouth and pulling the circular metal part out. I snap my mouth shut, swallowing thickly and licking at my lips. My jaw and throat hurt, but it was well worth it.
He leaves me blindfolded, but I feel his hands moving to the rope that bound my legs to the bed. I hear his pocket knife flip open, the ropes being cut from my ankles and allowing me the slightest bit of freedom. He moves to cut my wrists free next, but before he does, he orders me, “Don’t move, i’ll reposition you, alright?”
I nod my head, forgetting I have the freedom to speak now. His fingers tightly grip at my cheeks, squeezing them tightly and I feel tears begin to fill my eyes, “When I speak to you, you answer me. Got it?”
“Y-Yes, sir” I manage to choke out, my fresh tears finally falling and soaking into the blindfold.
He finally cuts the ropes that bound my wrists, my arms falling limp by my sides. I quickly bring them up, rubbing softly at the skin of my wrists, trying to ease the pain i’d felt, but the action is short lived, a high pitched squeal emitting from me when Rafe yanks me from my sitting position, tossing me onto my stomach.
-
RAFE
“Hands behind your back, knees underneath your stomach” I demand, and she quickly does as I ask. She places her arms behind her back and crosses them over one another before she brings her knees up and tucks them underneath her stomach, letting her ass sit up in the air, giving me a perfect view of her soaked cunt and puckered ass.
I land a harsh slap to her ass, leaving a perfect handprint on the skin and causing her to cry out from the sting. I smirk to myself before I reach over and grab the cuffs again, placing the first cuff on her right wrist and locking it tightly in place, moving on to her left and doing the same. I smile once I have her wrists tightly locked in place, moving to grab the now cut rope from the bed and placing on the undersides of her ankles, wrapping it around a few times before pulling it up the underside of her body and through the chains of the cuffs. I pull the excess rope back down to her ankles and tie them tightly together, making it to where her cuffed wrists are bound together with her tied ankles.
“You look so goddamn beautiful like this” I say while my hand lands another harsh slap to her ass. My hands fly to her ass, gripping the plump flesh tightly and spreading her cheeks for me. I gather saliva in my mouth and spit down onto her untouched hole, moving my thumb to it and rubbing at it slowly, spreading my spit around. I slowly shove my thumb into her ass, making her hiss. “R-Rafe?” She cries out, her body rocking back and forth as I slowly push my thumb in and out of her.
“You want me to fuck your ass baby? Hmm? Would you like me to claim this hole too?”
She whimpers, her body tightening as she tries to fight her restraints. I pull my thumb from her ass and run my index and middle finger through her cunt, she’s soaked. “You’re so wet, princess. I think you want me to fuck your ass” I tease, before saying “But that’ll be another time. ‘M gonna stretch your ass in time, make it ready for my cock. For now, ‘m gonna fuck this sweet cunt, and you’re gonna take it”
“R-Rafe… Please?” She begs, the sound of her sweet, pathetic voice makes my cock throb. I run my fingers through her slick cunt again, pushing them inside of her and scissoring them to stretch her open. I begin pushing them in and out of her slowly, adding a third to stretch her more. Her body begins rocking back and forth, fucking herself onto my fingers, “That’s it baby, fuck my fingers, show me how badly you want me”
Weak whimpers and moans fall from her lips as she continues rocking her hips, fucking herself onto my fingers. I feel her pussy clamp down around them, her body tensing as she’s about to cum and I quickly remove them from inside her.
She whines at the loss of my fingers, “Rafe. Please?” She begs, and I let out a dark laugh. “Please what? Gotta tell me what you want, princess”
I hear her sniffle, “Want to cum, please? Let me cum” I slide my tongue across my top teeth and smile to myself, “Well, since you asked so nicely” I grip the base of my cock, stroking it a few times before pushing it inside of her wet cunt. I groan, throwing my head back when I feel her warm, wet walls grip my cock tightly.
She’s whimpering, unintelligible words falling from her beautiful mouth as I continue to fuck into her. She tries to fight the restraints again, body thrashing every time the head of my cock hits at her sweet spot. I lean my body forward, pressing my weight into her back as I slowly pull out, slamming my hips forward again and making her cry out.
I slap my hand over her mouth to muffle her cries, her tears falling down her face and onto my hand has my dick twitching, but I try and hold out. “‘M gonna take your air away now baby, try not to pass out on me” I whisper in her ear before my index finger and thumb pinch over her nose. She begins fighting me and her restraints hard, trying to fight my hand that’s over her mouth and pinching her nose closed, but I wrap my free hand around her waist, hand splayed across her stomach and hold her still.
Her pussy pulses around my cock, making me growl in her ear, “Fuck, you’re cunt is squeezin’ me so tightly baby, lack of oxygen turns you on?”
I chuckle when I hear her mumble into my hand, leaning my head down to her shoulder and sinking my teeth into her smooth skin. She stops fighting, her body growing weak from the lack of oxygen. Her pussy clenches around me tightly, her body beginning to go slack in my arms and I release my hand from her face. Her head shoots up, the sounds of her coughing and gasping for air bouncing off the walls.
“You did so good, little one. So good. Cum all over my cock and we can go home” I whisper in her ear, my teeth nibbling at her lobe. She lets out a loud, pornographic moan while her pussy clamps down on my dick, her body tensing and toes curling as she comes undone around me.
I pull myself back once more, slamming myself inside her while my dick twitches inside of her, my cum shooting inside of her and painting her inner walls white. I slowly thrust myself in a few more times, shoving my cum deep inside her cunt before I slowly pull out. I watch my cum slowly drip from her cunt before I drop to my back on the bed, chest heaving as I try and catch my breath.
Rolling my head to the side, I take in her exhausted body, limp and breathing heavily. I grab my pocket knife from the table, cutting at the rope around her ankles before cutting it free from around the chains of the cuffs. I toss my knife to the side, grabbing the key and undoing the cuffs, removing them and tossing them to the side as well. I scoop her limp body into my arms, running a hand across her cheek before using my free hand to pull the blindfold up and off her head.
Her eyes spring open, blinking a few times to try and adjust to the dark room. Her beautiful eyes find my blue ones and she weakly smiles up at me, making my pulse race and heart hammer in my chest. She’s always been so beautiful, but something about her fucked out look, mascara stained cheeks and heavy eyes has me falling more in love with her.
I lie her body onto the mattress, placing a soft kiss on her sweat slick forehead before standing and grabbing my boxers from the floor. I pull them up my legs and rush out to the truck, having one more thing I want to do before we go home, one thing that will let her, and everyone else know she’s mine, forever.
I open up the driver side door, grabbing the blow torch and tongs from the passenger seat and rushing back inside. I find her lying still on the bed, the sound of her even breathing filling my ears, and for a moment, I almost feel guilty that i’m about to wake her up again.
I slowly walk toward her, sitting on the bed, my weight making it dip in. “Baby, wake up. There’s one more thing to do, and then i’ll take you home and take care of you”
Her heavy eyes slowly open, blinking a few times before she whimpers, “Please, Rafe. I can’t. No more” I smirk to myself, she thinks i’m going to fuck her again, but no, no what i’m about to do will be more permanent than anything I can ever give her with my cock.
“‘S okay baby, just gonna do something to remind you and everyone else who you belong to, then we’ll go home” I whisper before quickly lighting the blow torch up. Her head shoots up off the mattress, eyes wide as she shakes her head from side to side. I remove my gold signet ring with my initials on it, and grab the circular end with the tongs, sticking the bulky end that rests on the top of my finger under the blue flame.
“Rafe, what’re you doing?” She asks, her voice shaking as her eyes dart from the ring under the flame to me. The corners of my lips lift up in a grin, “Marking you. You’re mine, and everyone will know it”
I use my free hand to reach over and grab a piece of rope from the floor, handing it to her and ordering her, “Bite down on this”
She hesitates, but ultimately does what I ask, placing the rough material between her teeth and biting down on it harshly. Once I feel like i’ve held the ring under the flame long enough, I shut off the torch and sit it at my feet. I turn my body to face her, and her eyes are swimming in unshed tears, “It’ll only hurt for a second” I tell her, and her head slowly nods up and down.
I spread her legs with my free hand, slapping harshly at her inner thigh before I bring the hot ring to her skin. She cries out in pain, body shaking as I hold the end of my gold ring to her skin. Her body goes slack, tears rolling down her cheeks when I pull it from her skin. I can’t help the large smile that spreads across my face when I look down and see a perfectly shaped small square with the letter “RC” branded into her soft skin.
Her body is still shaking, tears falling uncontrollably down her cheeks as she lets out choked sobs. I quickly stand and dress myself before tossing the hoodie of mine i’d brought over her weak body, lifting her into my arms and carrying her out to the truck.
I runs hand through her sweat slick hair, pushing it back from her face as I lean forward and press my lips to her forehead, “I love you, Y/N. You’re mine, now and forever. Let’s get you home and cleaned up”
She lets out a soft whimper, her face buried into my chest as she manages to whisper, “I love you too”
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RAFE TAGLIST: @rafeism @thelomlisrafecameron @rafegirly @f4ll-for-you @drewstarkeyslut @lizcameron @dilvcv @thewitchesofart @rafesgfxo @unsaidjaelinrose @abbybarnesstuff @itsmytimetoodream @thatsthewaythechrissycrumbles @r1vrsefx @yourfavborderhopper @moremaybank @rafetopia @rafemotherfuckingcameron @jade-is-jaded @lexasaurs634 @lyndys @presleyanswrites @carma-fanficaddict @rafescokenostril @madzzz0797 @slytherhoes @jscameron @jjsmarijuana @ijustwanttoreadlols @luversgirl @sugarcoatedstarkey @skyesthebomb @nirvanaissogood @stvrkey @vhour @emma77645 @rafeinterlude @superlegend216 @mannstarkey @digitaldiary111 @spideysimpossiblegirl @redhead1180 @crgirlsworld @atorturedpoetx @carolinaxvz @maybankslover @cantstoptherecs @pradabambie @slut4ani @kamninaries
rafe masterlist | taglist form | main masterlist
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k-rising · 3 months
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𝟗𝐭𝐡 𝐡𝐨𝐮𝐬𝐞
What's the 9th house?: This house is ruled by Sagittarius and represents ethics and morals, spirituality, cultures, travel, studies, luck and philosophy.
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𝐒𝐮𝐧 𝐢𝐧 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝟗𝐭𝐡 𝐡𝐨𝐮𝐬𝐞
Scholars and visionaries. These people attach great importance to personal growth and have a great ambition for knowledge. They give others their knowledge to enhance their growth. They like to investigate topics that seem interesting to them. They seek to have a broad vision beyond common sense. If the Sun is badly aspected, they can become arrogant people who demonstrate intellectual superiority.
𝐌𝐨𝐨𝐧 𝐢𝐧 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝟗𝐭𝐡 𝐡𝐨𝐮𝐬𝐞
Curious and volatile. These people tend to end up living far from where they were born. They are susceptible to the opinions of others. Intellectual stimulation in this position is very important for them. They dream a lot about the future, but they don't focus on the present. They need to absorb knowledge to expand their worldview. They also need to build their own values so that they can feel more secure and emotionally stable.
𝐌𝐞𝐫𝐜𝐮𝐫𝐲 𝐢𝐧 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝟗𝐭𝐡 𝐡𝐨𝐮𝐬𝐞
Restless and curious. Studying and reading will always be part of their life. They are interested in the culture of other countries. They may be interested in topics such as human rights and religion. If Mercury is well aspected, they tend to learn new languages easily.
𝐕𝐞𝐧𝐮𝐬 𝐢𝐧 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝟗𝐭𝐡 𝐡𝐨𝐮𝐬𝐞
Adventurous, open-minded, sociable and optimistic. These people love to travel and learn new things. They attract people from different countries and cultures and learn a lot from others. They are attracted to people who give them new experiences. Some may easily fall in love with more than one person.
𝐌𝐚𝐫𝐬 𝐢𝐧 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝟗𝐭𝐡 𝐡𝐨𝐮𝐬𝐞
Honest, straightforward, lovers of life and open-minded. These people prefer to experience certain things for themselves rather than believe the opinions of others. They tend to rebel against traditions and religious beliefs. Some may move abroad to teach.
𝐉𝐮𝐩𝐢𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝐢𝐧 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝟗𝐭𝐡 𝐡𝐨𝐮𝐬𝐞
Restless, optimistic and intuitive. These people are focused on their destiny and seek to understand life in a deeper way. They tend to be quite incomprehensible to others. They have to learn to respect other points of view.
𝐒𝐚𝐭𝐮𝐫𝐧 𝐢𝐧 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝟗𝐭𝐡 𝐡𝐨𝐮𝐬𝐞
Practical. They tend to be closed-minded and it is difficult for them to change their minds. They do not tend to believe much in the mystical, but instead seek to give a scientific explanation to things. It is possible that they were forced to follow a religion from a very young age and that always generated rejection. They may also have had a lot of school problems or even been denied going to school in some way.
𝐔𝐫𝐚𝐧𝐮𝐬 𝐢𝐧 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝟗𝐭𝐡 𝐡𝐨𝐮𝐬𝐞
Unique and eccentric. These people see life from different points of view. They tend to rebel against traditional beliefs and the opinions of others. They do not usually follow a religion that many people follow. They often experience unusual and unexpected things on their trips.
𝐍𝐞𝐩𝐭𝐮𝐧𝐞 𝐢𝐧 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝟗𝐭𝐡 𝐡𝐨𝐮𝐬𝐞
These people believe that anything is possible. They are attracted to mystical experiences and are open to all kinds of thoughts. Religion or some other belief is important for them. It is very likely that they will experience some type of spiritual journey. They have to be very careful, since they can become blinded to certain beliefs.
𝐏𝐥𝐮𝐭𝐨 𝐢𝐧 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝟗𝐭𝐡 𝐡𝐨𝐮𝐬𝐞
Persuasive and intelligent. Knowledge is power for them. They need to find some meaning in their lives and are always searching for the truth. They may experience dramatic crises in their lives. They are firm when it comes to giving their opinions and they always back up their arguments. They also like to change other people's minds. Traveling may cause them some type of trauma.
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‧͙⁺˚・༓☾ 𝑇ℎ𝑎𝑛𝑘 𝑦𝑜𝑢 𝑠𝑜 𝑚𝑢𝑐ℎ 𝑓𝑜𝑟 𝑟𝑒𝑎𝑑��𝑛𝑔!  ☽༓・˚⁺‧͙
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neo-nomatrix · 4 months
Text
Gold chain beneath your shirt, the shirt that you let me wear home
Luke Castellan x reader
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word count: little over 1k
summary: no matter how hard you try to forget, there are signs of luke everywhere
a/n: smutty, angsty
He betrayed you, it wasn’t a dream or a stupid vision. He really betrayed you.
When Luke first brought up getting revenge on the gods you thought he was joking. He hadn’t mentioned “kronos’ army” , afraid that would be too much to jump onto you. You realize it far too late, that he was very much serious about his plan.
“You can join me. It’ll be just us again, remember? I can’t protect you,” He says, looking at you lovingly.
Luke had found you before departing camp, for good. He gave you a last chance to join him and the army. All while telling you what he had done to Percy.
“You tried to poison percy!” You yelled at him in the heat of the moment.
“I did what I had to do!” He screamed at you.
You backed up into the corner of your cabin, everyone else from your cabin gone. The few year rounders somewhere else.
“I’m not joining you Luke! That would be betraying everyone I love!” You yell back.
“What about me?! Huh?! You have hated the gods ever since I met you, what happened?” He questions.
“I may hate them, but I could never do this. I’m not a monster,” You quietly say, shaking your head.
“Fine. Make the wrong choice. But I won't be able to save you when the time comes,” He tells you cryptically.
You watch him walk away from you. You debate turning him in, but how? He’s stronger than you, faster, you know you can’t. All you can do is watch him walk away, possibly destroying both your futures. As he opens the door he looks back at you one last time.
——————
You’ve been rather alone at camp since summer ended. Percy and Annabeth return home while Grover goes off on his adventure for Pan. The only friends you have there are small acquaintances and your siblings. You decided you’re not quite ready to return home. You’ve had run-ins with monsters previously outside of camp and you aren’t prepared to deal with them again. Partially because your mind is flooded with Luke.
With the extra amounts of free time you find yourself rearranging your cabin and area. Sorting through your clothes over and over again. This time you find something you hadn’t previously, a thick plaid blue flannel. lukes. You pick it up and hold it in front of you. Memories flood in your head of Luke.
It’s mid June, you and luke’s favorite time for a swim in the lake. You find a lake hidden behind a forest of trees that’s quiet, perfect for you two. You were wandering in the forest together when you first found it. Hand in hand. The glimmering sun makes the water sparkle.
You start taking off your shirt and jean shorts while smiling widely.
“C’mon!” You laugh at Luke.
“You’re crazy,” he laughs at you, taking off his flannel and cargos.
He holds your hand as he pulls you into the crystal clear water. You both smile as the warm water touches your skin. Luke holds strongly onto your waist with one hand. The other acts like a paddle to push you into the middle of the lake. Your hands wrap about his neck, playing with his gold chain which has a feather charm hanging off of it.
He kisses your neck softly, roaming his calloused hands around your waist. You comb your fingers through his brown curls. Your thumb grazed over his scar below his right eye. You press a kiss on his lips, wrapping your legs around his waist.
He drops his right hand underneath the water and pulls your underwear aside. His long fingers teasing you entrance.
“Don’t tease,” you whisper against his lips.
He smiles and plunges one finger into you, letting out a breath of air as you moan. He kisses the sweet spot on your neck. Your mouth hangs open and you grind onto his fingers.
“You’re so fucking beautiful baby,” he mumbles.
“I’m a good girl right?” you moan softly.
“Are you? I don’t think so, baby,” he frowns, slowing his fingers down.
“W-what? no- no i’m a good girl, the best,” you say, eyes furrowing at his response.
“Hmm, maybe you should prove to me how good you are,” He whispers back, smirking.
“I’ll do anything,” you desperately say.
“Make yourself cum on my fingers,” he orders you, moving your hips against his bulge.
You grind your hips against his fingers. “You’re like a fucking dog in heat,” he laughs at you.
“I’m gonna- Luke i’m gonna,” you whine.
“Let go baby, be a good girl,” He smiles.
You cum harshly on his fingers, he slowly pumps in and out riding you out. He continues pressing kisses against you, his over hand roaming your body.
“Good girl, my good girl.”
You both get out of the water tired. Allowing the sun to soak into you, drying you off. You put your shorts back on before realizing your shirt has gotten mud on it.
“Luke! My shirt!” you cry out to him.
“Here, take this,” He laughs at you, throwing his flannel at you.
You smile back at him, putting the flannel over your shoulders. You go up to him and wrap your arms around his tall figure.
“Wish we could stay here forever,” You mumble.
“I think we can work something out.”
——————
You stare at the shirt, smiling. You wonder what it would be like if he never left, if it could be just you forever. You hug the shirt longingly, going to your bunk and wrapping yourself in the flannel. You feel a hard metal in the pocket, his chain. You hold it in your palm; small tears pooling in your eyes.
“Fuck you Luke. Why’d you have to do this?” You look out the window, angry and sad.
You wish for a different ending. You wish he stayed. You wish you had gone with him, maybe it would’ve just been you two. You wish you had stayed in that moment forever. You wish it wasn’t true. You wish he hadn’t left.
You love Luke Castellan, even though you wish you dont. You hate yourself for falling for it. You hate him for making you fall for him.
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sohnric · 5 months
Text
plot twist – k. sunwoo
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pairing: kim sunwoo x gn! reader
genre: coworkers au, enemies to lovers au. fluff, a poor attempt at comedy. movie theatre! worker sunwoo and reader. bitch boy sunwoo. the reader has anger issues. owner's son! sunwoo being annoying about everything. winter themes, sunwoo is a little kid about stuff but mostly the snow.
wc: 21k
warnings: swearing, a heated make out session. y/n's inner monologue is just my own feelings about this man im sorry. i watched too much of the office when writing this can you tell. also i made sunwoo's sister underage for plot reasons deal with it.
working with kim sunwoo has so far been the worst experience of your whole entire life. just his existence alone is enough to make your day completely miserable– though, one would think that working with movies on the daily would prepare you for the biggest plot twist of your life.
a/n: this took me SO LONG to write woah. i have a humble playlist for this fic if any of yall wanna listen to it while you read <3 a huge thank you goes to my best friend @csenke for being my biggest motivator and hype man when it came to this fic. thank u for being my first ever beta reader hihi i couldn't have done this without you i am forever grateful ily. also im tagging @heemingyu because whe told me to
ho ho ho! this fic is a part of the secret santa event by @deoboyznet ! @kimsohn maya, i was your secret santa this year, i hope you enjoy the fic i prepared for you
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TONIGHT'S PREMIERE – UGLY TRUTH (2009)
If anyone ever asked you about your job in the movie theater, you wouldn’t really know what to say. 
You see, what may had seemed like your dream job when you were little, acquiring the fairytale vision after going to the cinema for the first time to see the Horton movie when you were just 7, quickly turned into reality one ordinary day during your junior year of university. And it wasn’t even that hard; you just dropped off your CV at the movie theater on the corner of the town's square when you saw the sign that said ‘looking for part-timers’ in a messy, giant handwriting on the glass door– and soon enough, you found yourself in the depths of the vintage-looking cinema, wearing the red uniform the owner gave you, selling movie tickets to teenagers and taking out the trash. It’s hard to enjoy the job when you’re on bathroom cleaning duty, though, and the fact that this is what you once imagined to be the most exciting job in the whole entire world turns twice as boring when you realize just how mundane it really is. 
Still, you can’t bring yourself to quit, well, because you need the money.
Do you hate working in the cinema? No. Not really. Sure, it’s kind of boring– especially on the nights when you’re selling tickets at the front and nobody comes in for hours– but it’s not that difficult. It’s not physically or mentally demanding, so you’d say that you’re still on the better end when it comes to work environment. Your boss isn’t a dick and you get paid on time– so really, if anyone asked you if you hated it, your answer would be no. 
Until one fateful day, of course. 
You’re met with a person that’s going to efficiently change this opinion around in one swift bat of their eyelashes and a drag of their hand through their messy hair.
“So… you’re the new part-timer?” a tall boy asks you one day when you arrive at work. You’re already wearing your uniform when you come through the front door– since you don’t really feel like changing in the toilets that are not staff-exclusive here– and frankly, his voice startles you on your way in.
“Yeah,” you nod, furrowing your brows at the stranger. “And you are…?”
“Sunwoo,” the boy says, matter-of-factly, as if you’re supposed to know who exactly he is now that he’s introduced himself to you. The look on your face may show that you’re still clueless, and see, that’s something that must have played with the boy’s ego. “Kim Sunwoo,” he snickers, “the owner’s son..?”
Blinking a few times, trying to remember if Mr Kim’s ever told you about having a son– he hasn’t– you gasp like a fish on the dry, nodding. “Oh… Hello..?” you mumble, not really knowing what to do with the information.
“Hi,” he says, face stone cold and motionless. Something’s wrong, but you can’t quite put your finger on it…. 
Well, you’ll have to deal with that later. “My shift starts in 5 minutes, so I gotta find Mr- your dad, and ask him what’s on my to-do list today, but it was nice meeting you,” you try to force out a polite (maybe even warm) smile before you turn on your heel and march towards the staff room, where Mr Kim usually resigns unless he is helping you out with something at the front. See, on not busy days, working at the cinema requires only one person. On Fridays, though, it can get tough. That’s when the owner makes the popcorn while you both sell and scan the tickets at the same time– sometimes you wonder why he doesn’t hire another person to help out with the job.
“Wait– newbie–”
The nickname startles you, again, as you turn around and squint at him. You have a name– and although he has no way of knowing it (other than his father telling him, but seeming that you didn’t even know about his son, Mr Kim isn’t big on sharing information)– but still, you’d love to be called by it. “It’s Y/N, actually.”
“Oh, right…” he hums, “well, Y/N, dad’s not here tonight, so… I’m… kind of in charge,” he says, nodding as he gets the words out, trying to prove his point, “he had other things to take care of, so he sent me down instead,” he explains, watching as your face morphs into one of quick understatement.
“Oh.”
“Yeah,” he nods, sucking on his teeth.
Thick silence overtakes the atmosphere. You feel awkward and out of place.
“So…?” you hum, waiting for him to tell you what to do. 
Because a guy your age ordering you around at work is already embarrassing enough for a university student just trying to pay for their groceries. You’re not gonna ask for the orders yourself. You still have some dignity.
“So… I could take the ticket booth and you can clean the screening room, since there are no movies on tonight?” he suggests, rocking on his heels. The boy seems a bit shaken with the new sense of responsibility, but you figure that even his undoubtful awkwardness still doesn't put you above his position.
You mentally sigh. Cleaning is your least favorite part of the job. 
Still, you’re not gonna talk back to your boss’ son. You’d like to keep your job for a while longer. At least until you find something better.
“Alright,” you nod, turning on your heels once more and preparing to disappear into the depths of the cinema.
His voice stops you again, though, frustration flowing through your veins. “Don’t forget to mop the floors! Oh, and the bathroom could use a clean as well.”
“Alright,” you nod again, your back facing him.
“Also, you need to get the gum off the chairs, I know it’s kind of disgusting, but there’s a-”
“I know how to do my job, thank you,” you turn, smiling ironically over your shoulder.
You don’t know what it is about the man that makes you so, so incredibly irritated. Maybe it’s the fact that every bit of information coming out of his mouth sounds like he’s mansplaining everything to you. Maybe it’s the fact that you feel humiliated to be told what to do by a man that’s your age. Or maybe, it’s just the sheer fact that you hate cleaning– the one thing he just told you to do.
Still, you go and get the vacuum. You go and mop the floors, you go and take the gum off the chairs and scrape it into a bucket you keep in the pantry in the back. You go and clean the bathroom, even though it’s 10 minutes until the end of your shift (you only work 4 hours on Wednesdays) and you spent almost your whole day cleaning the whole screening room by yourself (the screening room that’s giant and Mr Kim helps you with on most days). You go and wipe the mirror in the bathroom, as well as the windows in the hall. 
You say that your work in the cinema is not physically demanding, but by the time you’re out, your back hurts and your knees are all bruised up from getting on the ground so often.
What really sets you off, though, is the sight of the owner’s son sitting in the booth, both legs up on the table and chewing on something, his phone in his hands as he watches, what you presume from the language resonating from the speaker, a silly anime. At least someone had fun during their shift, you think as you leave without saying goodbye to him, slamming the door behind you with a loud bang on your way out.
Quite frankly, you didn’t know what set you off so bad this time. Maybe you just had a bad day. Maybe it could've been fixed with your next shared shift with the guy– you never know.
Little did you know that it was only going to get worse from now on, though.
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TONIGHT'S PREMIERE – PALM SPRINGS (2020)
If you knew your boss’s son would play the role of your supervisor from time to time, you probably wouldn't have taken the job when it was offered to you. 
Why?
The reason is quite simple– while you go to work to make money, Kim Sunwoo goes to work to make your whole life a living hell. Ranging from always giving you the more difficult task of the day to making unfunny jokes about your performance (he once asked if you ran a marathon after you mopped the whole hall, his grinning figure staring at you from inside of the ticket booth), you’re starting to think that Kim Sunwoo is mentally stuck with the brain of an 11-year old boy. 
More so with his recent endeavors. You don’t really know what he’s trying to achieve with all of this, but you’re starting to despise going to work even when you know he’s not on the schedule– somehow, you’re afraid his silly pranks and jokes will follow you and surprise you even when he’s not present. Is this his way of asserting dominance? You really don’t know.
It all starts one day before a movie premiere when Sunwoo walks up to you and introduces you to a new concession item to sell in the snack booth. While you don’t really know why one would even think of new combinations to sell at a cinema, since everyone’s just gonna get popcorn or nachos, you don’t really question the idea much further– Sunwoo’s father owns this place, so he must know the best marketing strategies for his business. The reality only downs on you when you’re forced to promote the “Ultimate movie mix” to every customer– which wouldn’t even be that strange, if the mix didn’t include the weird combination of pickles and candy. 
Running on two all nighters and half an energy drink, you didn’t realize the snack stand doesn’t even hold pickles. You were notified the day after by your boss, though, and that wasn’t your best experience.
The terror follows when Sunwoo’s father decides to run a Star Wars marathon one weekend. The flood of customers wouldn’t be as hard to manage when you run the snack stand, but it does get more difficult when your coworker running around with a lightsaber knocks over all the buckets of freshly-made popcorn you just put on the counter for the customers to take. 
He doesn’t even say sorry. Or help clean the spilled popcorn up from the floor. Or help you make a new batch. 
He just laughs.
Sunwoo just loves to laugh at you. Like that one time he made you wear a giant popcorn costume and stand in front of the cinema for the entirety of your 4 hour shift on Wednesday to promote the new movie airing on Friday. Hardly anyone took the fliers you were desperately trying to force into their hands and when you came back, you saw Sunwoo pointing his camera at you from the big glass window. 
The next shift, his dad asked you how Sunwoo did when promoting the movie. You didn’t have the heart to tell him he forced you to do the dirty business instead.
Another time, Sunwoo informs you via text in the middle of your shift that you should clean the bathrooms. The fact itself already makes you furious, but you follow the order nonetheless– because, well, what else can you do? You’re used to cleaning the toilets, since it’s a part of your job. It’s just the fact that a guy your age told you to that’s making you rethink all your career decisions.
The trip to the bathrooms quickly turns traumatizing when you step inside of the tiled room and have the door behind you close with a loud bang, followed by the light switching off. Screeching, you jump and try to escape the room with fear making your heart run faster than Usain Bolt, however, you find the door seemingly locked– the sound of Sunwoo’s snarky laugh coming from the other side making you recognise what just happened and how he’s pulling another one of his childish pranks on you again.
When the door finally opens, you throw the toilet brush into his chest and scream out a “I’m going to fucking quit if I see your face one more time!”. You’re over all formalities.
That doesn’t mean you’re not scared every time you enter a room in the cinema when you work with Sunwoo, though. Your reaction was strengthened very abruptly, you see.
Sitting in the ticket booth, door ajar to monitor your surroundings, you plop your head on your hand and glare at Sunwoo, chewing on your gum. If anyone saw you right now, they’d think you were trying to kill him with your stare, but the opposite would actually be the truth tonight– you were quite enjoying the sight of him wiping the sweat off his forehead and scowling at the neverending flow of customers.
The beauty of having ticket booth duty on premiere night is that everyone bought the tickets beforehand already, meaning that it wasn’t usually busy. Scanning the tickets and running the snack booth were the more difficult parts of the shift, and since Mr Kim decided to show up to work today, Sunwoo was graced with the snack booth duty– something that warmed you up from the inside and made you want to kiss your boss’s feet in gratefulness. 
There’s just something about seeing Kim Sunwoo in misery that makes your stomach turn and do cartwheels. You’re in love with his pathetic, tired face.
His eyes meet yours when he takes a moment to breathe– the look behind them is pleading, almost embarrassingly hopeless as he internally wishes he was in your place. You think this serves him right for the weeks of torture, and when he becomes you to come over with a motion of his hand, you just shrug at him and bat your eyelashes in faked innocence. 
It’s not your fault he’s on duty tonight. What does he want with you?
His lips mouth “Come here,” which makes you battle a satisfied smile. Poor Kim Sunwoo is helpless in his task. The rush just won’t stop and he’s asked of more than he can handle. You kind of feel sadistic when you truly think about your sentiments, but you think you’re only valid for feeding on his misery.
“Help!” he mouths again, and now you truly can’t battle the laughter anymore. His hair is tousled and sticking to his forehead. His uniform is dirty. The tie around his neck is loose. The sight makes you utterly satisfied.
As he mouths “Please,” accompanied by clasped hands and a pleading look that would work on most women, you finally decide to stand up from the uncomfortable chair in the ticket booth and shake your head in disbelief. You can’t even count how many times Sunwoo left you alone in the rush before a premiere, but you can’t really risk his father finding out you didn’t come to rescue his beloved son, since however you might hate this job, you still can’t lose it in your current living conditions.
Sighing and closing the door to the ticket booth after you, your legs take you to the snack stand. Eyes of enthusiastic customers looking almost high on coca cola and the smell of salted popcorn are on you when you finally reach Sunwoo’s side. 
“So I’m supposed to help you with your work whenever you ask, but when I’m left cleaning the whole theater completely alone, you can sit around and play on your phone?” you jab, annoyed with the turn of events. You find a spare apron and tie it around your waist, not really wanting to dirty your uniform as you pour caramel into some buckets of popcorn, hearing your companion chuckle next to you.
“Yeah, pretty much.”
“Okay, so I’ll be back in the ticket booth after serving this customer-”
“My dad’s watching.”
“This is blackmailing,” you snap back, smiling ironically at your coworker.
Sunwoo grins at you when he hands two cokes to the teenage girls behind the counter, shrugging to himself. “Not my problem.”
You learned long ago that fighting with Kim Sunwoo is a battle you can never win. Logically, you know you’re always right, but the boy always thinks he should have the last word in everything, which makes ending an argument with him pretty much impossible. That’s why you stopped trying to prove your truth. In your heart, you know how it is, and no amount of snarky remarks from the feisty boy will change your opinion.
You two work alongside each other in silence for some time. You’d even say it’s efficient– you make the popcorn and he makes the nachos, both of you taking turns behind the coca cola machine, and after a few minutes in his proximity when he’s not being the butt of the Earth, your brain starts to question why you two can’t operate like this on a daily basis.
Oh, how foolish of you.
You’re quickly brought back to reality when you walk over with the grande size bucket of popcorn towards the counter, meeting halfway with Kim Sunwoo’s chest.
It takes everything in you not to scream, but the restraint is deleted as soon as you feel something cold dripping down the front of your uniform, your white button-up suddenly sticking towards your chest in a big, dark-brown pool around your waist area. One sharp look into his eyes is everything it takes you two to come to a mutual understanding of what your next action is gonna be– Sunwoo quickly puts the now empty cup of coca cola onto the counter and puts a hand towards his head in self-disappointment.
“Kim Sunwoo, are you fucking incompetent?!” you scream out, the sensation of your cold shirt sticking to your already sweaty skin making you want to crawl out of yourself and scratch your coworker’s eyes out with the claws of the demon he wakes up in you.
“Look, you don’t have to-”
“I just washed this yesterday, there’s a line of people waiting for their snacks up to the fucking front door, you just ruined the popcorn I made so now I have to redo it, and you just decide to spill this onto me?!” you continue with your rampage, not really caring about the eyes of everyone on you, just letting out all your built-up frustration that creeps inside of you every time you see his face.
“As if I did this on purpose…” he grunts as he turns around in his place and reaches for napkins, not really putting much thought into his actions as he presses the material into the damp place sticking to your skin. 
The image startles you– Kim Sunwoo almost in physical contact with you, a paper napkin soaking up some of the coca cola flooding the surface of your skin– and as you watch his slender palms run over your front, your eyes falling to the fluffy hair at the crown of his head, you feel heat rushing to your insides, making you jump away from him.
“Sorry-” he mumbles out as you forcefully pry the napkin out of his hand, gritting your teeth.
“I’m starting to think you’re making me do everything just because you’re useless,” you spit at him.
Rolling his eyes, Sunwoo pokes his cheek with the tip of his tongue. “It was an accident.”
“Don’t care,” you grunt, walking away from the booth, “I’m going to change in the back, you better not burn the place down with the popcorn machine before I’m back,” you comment, sending him a sharp glare over your shoulder.
All that accompanies you to the staff room is Sunwoo’s loud sigh and a sugary-sweet tone he offers to one of the customers as he throws the ruined popcorn into the trash. “I’ll be right with you, miss!” 
If anyone asked you if you hated your job now, you think you’d say yes.
Who are you kidding?
You’d definitely say yes.
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TONIGHT’S PREMIERE – THE HATING GAME (2021)
You were quite pleased on your way to work today. It’s Wednesday, which usually means it’s not as busy. The weather is cloudy– good enough to not make you gloomy, but not quite sunny enough to make you wish you were outside instead of being stuck in the cinema the whole afternoon– and you packed a home-made sandwich with you to eat on your lunch break. Which is whenever, since you’re on ticket booth duty today– another great news. 
The best thing about today, though? Kim Sunwoo isn’t working today. 
That alone is good enough to make your whole entire day better. The sun shines brighter, your breathing is lighter, the air is clearer and the birds chirp louder when you know you don’t have to interact with the hellspawn that day. It’s like his absence alone is enough to heal all your wounds and delete all your worries– who cares about the fact that you’re barely getting through your Biology class when you know you won’t have to stare at Sunwoo’s face as you contemplate dropping out of university during your shift? 
Maybe you should thank him, in a way.
And with all of this knowledge, a smile plastered on your face as you’re prepared to sit through your 5-hour shift in silence with an occasional swipe through your social media and a well deserved chicken-mayo sandwich towards the end of your shift, it’s quite natural for your smile to freeze and your spirit fall the moment you see the mop of dark brown hair walk through the doors of the cinema. 
“What the fuck is he doing here?” you mourn as he walks by, only realizing you said the sentence out loud when the boy looks at you with a scowled face, a scoff escaping his throat.
“Didn’t know we were speaking to each other in third person now,” he says as he stops in his tracks and plops his head into the door to your booth, infesting your calm abode with his presence.
Deep breaths. In and out, Y/N. In and out… 
“Hello to you too, Y/N,” he smiles, irony dripping off his tongue, “having a good day so far?”
“It was better without you here, thank you,” you snap back, rolling your eyes at him when his eyes flash with something akin to a victory– it seems you both take joy in making the other one absolutely miserable with your presence.
“Sweet,” he nods on his way out, grinning to himself. “Well, I won’t be long, so don’t let your mood drop too much.”
With that, he’s out of the ticket booth. All that’s left behind him is the smell of his cologne– the tingle of lemon and bergamot filling your nostrils in a way that makes the fine hair at the back of your neck stand up all alert– and silence. It makes you wonder about his whereabouts– you can never know… what if he’s setting up a trap for you somewhere? You wouldn’t be half surprised. You make a mental note to yourself to be twice as cautious when going to the bathroom next time. Just to make sure.
Before you’re able to think of any possible situations that Sunwoo could get himself caught in (while completely ignoring the fact that his father is somewhere in his office in the back– for all you know, he might just need to talk to your boss, like a son does sometimes), the woodworm of your thoughts appears in your view again, two rolled-up tubes under his shoulder as he walks over to the front door.
“Wait! What are those?” you ask, eyes zeroing on the very clear posters in his grip. The shiny white back of the big posters you have to sometimes put up in the front of the cinema are unmistakable to anything else.
“Posters,” Sunwoo replies, calling over his shoulder, already halfway out of the building. 
“I know what those are–”
“Then why are you asking?” he huffs, shaking his head in disbelief as he takes a few steps towards the ticket booth, eyes meeting yours. His figure fills the door frame as he towers over you, still sitting on the chair. His eyes have a different kind of twinkle in them– you think, no, you know it’s mischief– making the blood in your veins boil at deadly temperatures.
“Because– well,” you huff, already frustrated, “we’re not allowed to take these,” you say, pointing to the two posters under his shoulder like a kid in the candy store. You try to ignore just how embarrassing you must look right in this moment.
“Oh,” he pouts, taking the posters from below his shoulder, unraveling one of them and resting the other one against the doorframe, “so you’re telling me… I can’t take those two amazingly big, shiny, cool posters of the latest Spiderman movie home for me and my friend Juyeon?” 
You’re only half-aware of the fact that he’s teasing you right now, sighing at his innocent face. “No, Sunwoo. You can’t.”
“Hm,” he hums, looking at the poster from top to the bottom, seemingly sad about the news, “that’s terrible. Says who?”
“Your… your father, Sunwoo. He told me when I asked him the other day if I could take–”
“You wanted to take posters home from the cinema?” he gasps, looking at you with big eyes. He looks stupid. So, terribly stupid. Dumb. No thought behind his eyes. You want to smash his head against a concrete wall. 
…He’s teasing you. It finally dawns on you.
Now, you want to smash your head against a concrete wall.
Still, you admit defeat with a solemn tone in your voice. “Well, I really wanted the Enola Holmes poster to put up in my bedroom…” you mumble.
“And my dad said no?” he asks, eyebrows quirking up towards his hairline.
“Yes, Sunwoo. Your father said it’s prohibited to take posters home from the cinema, that’s exactly why I’m stopping you right now,” you say, tone filled with annoyance. You know he’s enjoying your face full of misery. But still, if there’s one thing you’re good at, it’s following the rules and orders– if Mr Kim says you can’t take the posters home, you’ll go in the back and tear them into pieces before throwing them into the bin like you’re told to. 
If things were going your way, you’d advise Sunwoo to do the same. 
A day with Kim Sunwoo in it never goes your way, though. You should’ve been prepared.
“So I can’t take those posters home because my dad said no?” he clarifies, looking like a dummy. Like one of those kids that ask the most obvious questions during exams. Like one of those kids you want to sucker punch in the face.
“Sunwoo–”
“Well, Y/N-ie,” he purrs, the nickname making your hands curl up in fists, “that’s too bad… because I am the owner’s son, so… the rules don’t really apply to me, you see.”
And with that, he sends another sickeningly sweet smile your way before he turns on his heel and marches towards the front door again– not responding to any of your annoyed, infuriated calls of his name. He doesn’t stop at your warnings. He doesn’t care.
And just like that, he disappears just as fast as he appeared. The interaction didn’t last more than 10 minutes, but you consider your whole day ruined.
Fucking Sunwoo and his fucking privileges. And his fucking annoying face. 
It’s not even that important. It’s just two posters that would get thrown out to the dumpster in the back at the end of your shift anyway. You don’t even care about those posters in particular– you just with equal rules applied to all workers in the workplace.
It’s not like Spiderman Homecoming is one of your favorite movies… not at all.
You could’ve had that poster. You deserved that poster. You sold tickets for it and served the snack booth when it premiered– not Kim Sunwoo and whatever his friend’s name was.
You kick the wall with your sneaker. It leaves a dirty mark.
You should’ve known the day felt too good to be true.
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TONIGHT’S PREMIERE – MUCH ADO ABOUT NOTHING (1993)
There’s a new thing Mr Kim is trying to lure more customers into the cinema. He calls it ‘Rewind Thursdays’, where he picks a movie from the past and airs it in the theater again to bring out nostalgia in the whole town. You think it’s a good idea– you remember when the Harry Potter movies had a rerun back when you were little, ecstatic that you finally got to see them in the cinema because you missed out on the experience when they were coming out for the first time. You went even though you saw them all before, and you had a blast. So in your books, this was the best thing that could happen to the little, old movie theater on the corner of the town’s square.
You were overbeared with joy when Mr Kim went up to you during one of your slow Wednesday shifts in the ticket booth with a paper and a pen, requesting you to write down your favorite movies. He informed you that he’d prefer it if they were older, to, quote, really get the nostalgia going, and you were happy to have some say in the list of movies to play for multiple reasons. One, because it meant he valued your opinion, and two, you don’t usually work on Thursdays, so if your favorite movie is on that day, you can go and relax in the cinema while watching it.
This all happened a few weeks ago. You gave the list back to your boss at the end of your shift, smiling brightly just thinking about it, and he told you he’ll get through it and see what he can incorporate. 
The plan gets to you on one uneventful Wednesday. You are stuck in the ticket booth again. Today is one of the Wednesdays where Sunwoo is in charge, because Mr Kim is out of town. You hate those days most of them all, but recently, he’s been giving you your freedom and letting you work in the ticket booth instead of cleaning the already clean cinema, saying he has stuff to do in the back. You suspect he just sits around in his father’s office with his legs on the table, chewing on his obnoxious strawberry mints. The image makes you furious only the tiniest bit, because the fact that he’s out of your sight and isn’t ordering you around is enough to calm your nerves. It could always be worse, you remind yourself. It could always be worse.
“I have the schedule of ‘Rerun Thursdays’ all done,” Sunwoo says as he walks up to the ticket booth close to the end of your shift. His eyes look a little tired when he holds up a thick card to you, the design of the poster making your eyebrows shoot up in surprise. Did he do that?
“It’s ‘Rewind Thursdays’, actually,” you note, pointing towards the very obvious mistake on the top of the poster.
“Oh fuck– you know what, not anymore,” he scowls, taking the poster back from you and pointing glares at the title he mistyped, “I spent 3 hours on this, I’m not remaking it.”
“It looks like a kindergartener did it,” you note, eyes scanning the bubbly font and the orange-yellow combination used throughout the whole design when he offers the paper back to you. It looks like a Winnie the Pooh convention is taking place instead of an event full of nostalgic movies, and you would tell him that, but he beats you to it with a tired remark.
“Well, if my father wanted this to look professional, he should’ve hired someone to do it,” he mutters, obviously hurt by your harsh words, “I used Canva. I don’t know how Photoshop works and my dad can barely operate the computer, so this is what we’re going with, okay?” he says as he explains, big eyes suddenly bearing into yours. “Unless you wanna redo it yourself…?”
“Absolutely not.”
“Then this is the final poster,” he says, “I’m gonna hang those outside when we close,” he notes, watching you scan the movie titles. The event will take place in 4 weeks from the middle of November to the middle of December (right in time for Christmas movies to air, since you’re certain Mr Kim has another Christmas-themed business tactic up his sleeve). 
“Did any of your movies make it?” Sunwoo asks, surprisingly friendly. You can’t remember a single casual conversation with the male– all you two do it either give each other the silent treatment or scream at each other (more like you scream at him, but he always deserves it…), so you’re kind of surprised at the change. Not pleasantly surprised. Just surprised.
Eyes falling to the second movie on the list, you feel yourself nodding as you smile. It’s like a dream come true– you can finally see your favorite movie in the cinema for the first time. You don’t know who to thank for this miracle, but something in your insides feels very grateful. 
“Yeah,” you say, trying to seem unaffected. You’d rather kill yourself than to show any signs of emotion in front of Kim Sunwoo. All he deserves to see is your stone cold face.
“Which one?” he asks, seemingly interested.
“National treasure,” you hum, pointing to the movie on the list, having Sunwoo nod to himself. You expect him to say something to you– perhaps engage in a conversation like a normal person would– but suddenly, he gasps and takes out a folded piece of paper from his back pocket, offering it to you and playing the role of the manager again.
“Oh, by the way,” he starts, watching as you unfold the paper, “I know we don’t usually work on Thursdays, but since my dad decided to do all of this, we kinda have to, since he wouldn’t be able to handle the premieres on his own, so… Here's your schedule for the next 4 weeks,” he says, clasping his hands together in front of him.
It takes everything in you to not correct the male and tell him that those are technically not premieres, but when your eyes land on the little Excel table Sunwoo printed out for you, the feeling is overpowered with one of deep disappointment.
“I work the second week?” you ask, as if the question might magically change the schedule.
“I mean, I think you can read…” Sunwoo hums, shrugging to himself.
A heartbeat passes by of you staring at the schedule, a pit opening in your stomach at the realization. You only work 2 Thursdays out of 4, noticing the fact that you rotate with Sunwoo (with him somehow taking the first week, much to your surprise), but for some reason, one of those days had to be the day when National treasure is on. 
And sure, you might think this is good– you can just watch the movie while you work! 
Wrong.
Working means either staying in the ticket booth the whole time in case a customer comes, working the snack booth the whole time in case a customer comes, or cleaning the bathrooms. Working means also standing in front of the screening room sometimes, making sure no one is going in without a ticket in the middle of the movie. 
There is no time for you to watch National treasure if you’re working. 
Sighing, you decide to do something you always prohibited yourself from doing– you ask Kim Sunwoo for a favor. “Listen… my favorite movie is airing the week I work, so I was… wondering if we could exchange shifts? So I could go and watch it?” you ask, looking at your coworker with what you presume are pleading eyes. You hope it works on the boy– he looks like the type to fold under a tender gaze.
“So you want to get out of work only to still come?” Sunwoo clarifies, snickering.
“Pretty much, yeah,” you nod, tapping your fingers on the table.
“Well, the schedule is set,” Sunwoo shrugs, “I can’t do anything about it.”
Eyes sending darts to the very middle of Kim Sunwoo’s forehead, you take a few calming breaths before you speak up again. You don’t want to blow up on him when you’re asking him for a favor– you don’t think this approach would help you much in the situation.
“Why?”
“Because,” he shrugs. 
“Because?” you repeat. “That’s the reason?” you say, a weak laugh dragging out of your throat.
“Pretty much, yeah,” he mirrors your previous response, the blood in your veins already growing hot from the confrontation.
“Sunwoo, you– come on,” you say, “just this once, please? I’ll take the first week. We can just switch, what’s the difference?” 
Sunwoo tongues the inside of his cheek, eyes pointing towards the paper. “Schedule is schedule, Y/N. You have to follow it,” he says, an innocent look glazing his big fuckass boba eyes. Oh how you despise that look. It’s the look that tells you he finds this all so, so amusing, but won’t laugh in your face in hopes of teasing you some more. 
“Oh, amazing,” you say, throwing the schedule to the table, “I knew I could always count on you ruining my day, Kim Sunwoo. And I bet you did the schedule as well! You knew it was my favorite movie, so you made me work that week. Very nice of you, you dumbass. Thank you very much,” you grunt, annoyance flowing through your brain and making you truly merciless– you have no proof of Sunwoo even knowing which movie of yours made it in, or proof of him making the schedule– you don’t care, though. All you want at this moment is to claw his eyes out and pop them in between your fingers to ease the anger on your insides.
You can’t do that, though, so a screaming match will have to do the job.
“Stop being so dramatic,” he scoffs, eyebrows furrowing. “I didn’t even know which one your favorite movie was, so how could I do this on purpose? Plus, I didn’t even make the schedule, my dad did–”
“As if I would believe that,” you roll your eyes, huffing. “You’re all owner’s son privileges this, owner’s son privileges that, but when I ask you for one thing, one! Single! Fucking! Thing! You can’t do it,” you bite, words dripping in spite.
“Look, I really can’t-”
“You can’t do this one thing for me?” you cut him off, the question sounding like an ultimatum.
“No,” he shakes his head, seemingly unaffected by the conversation.
“Because…?” you demand a valid reason.
“Because I just can’t,” he shrugs, casual and cool. 
The world stills for a moment. You calculate your next move. Blood rushes in your ears, you see red. Your eyes fall on the clock– it’s 4 minutes after your shift. That’s it.
You take your coat draped over the chair, stand up from the chair and dash towards the front door. You can’t stand being around this man any longer– all he does is bring misery into your otherwise, already boring life. 
Speedwalking out of the place, you yell out a harsh “Go fuck yourself!” over your shoulder, leaving Sunwoo to close the cinema by himself. You don’t even change out of your uniform before you go– your head is too clouded with anger to remember to do so. Cursing out your coworker isn’t the best thing you could do in this situation, more so when he’s the owner’s son, but suddenly, you don’t really care about losing your job at the cinema anymore.
Maybe you should quit yourself, actually.
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TONIGHT’S PREMIERE – HOW TO LOSE A GUY IN 10 DAYS (2003)
In your books, there aren’t many things worse than working three days in a row. You can only think of so many even when you try hard enough: like going to school in your pajamas, getting sick on the day of an important event, ripping your pants on the metro, standing outside of the cinema in a popcorn costume for 4 hours… 
Yeah. Not too many.
So naturally, on the third day of your work week, putting one sweetened coffee into your stomach after another, barely keeping your head up from the lack of sleep you’re getting in between classes, work, and writing your essays until 3 in the morning, you beg god for a calm shift. It’s Wednesday, the first week of Mr Kim’s ‘Rewind Thursdays’ event, and it just so happened that you were set to work the first half of the week while Sunwoo got the other half. 
The only thing keeping you going is the fact that you and Sunwoo will now basically not see each other’s face for the next four weeks– with the exception of Fridays and Saturdays, the premiere days. You’re getting a lot of shifts this month, but hey… Christmas is coming. At least you’ll have plenty of money to buy gifts for everyone this year. (Or not. You’re very underpaid.)
Entertaining yourself by watching the world outside of your window and mentally betting on the race of raindrops falling down the glass surface– because your phone battery almost ran out during class this morning and you forgot to bring your charger with you– you hope you don’t fall asleep right in this moment. Your boss is somewhere inside and if he oh just happens to check up on you (which he never normally does, but you can never be too sure), you’re certain you’d lose your job after taking a nap in the ticket booth. Some things just can’t be accepted. 
Cat fights with his son? Perfectly acceptable. Sleeping on the clock? Not so much…
Eyes drooping when the third raindrop race doesn’t go the way you bet on in your head, you figure you can just rest for a second or two… Eyelids shielding your irises from the orange hues of the lights inside, your brain already turning off and preparing a happy dream for you, you think that taking a nap is not such a bad idea right now…
Wrong.
“Good morning, sleeping beauty,” the noise of a thunder– actually, no, that was just someone’s voice– wakes you up and makes you jump in your chair, your knee hitting the bottom of the table making you hiss in sharp pain.
“Fuck, man–”
“Didn’t know taking a nap was in the job description,” Sunwoo grins at you through the glass window of the booth. His eyes twinkle in amusement as you drag your hand through your hair, trying to smoothe it down after tousling it in your weird sleeping position.
“I wasn’t sleeping,” you mutter, not even meeting his eye. 
“Oh?”
“Yeah… just had… my eyes closed…” you hum, scratching the back of your neck. Clearing your throat, you look back up at him with an disinterested look on your face. “Anyways, what do you want? You’re off today.”
Scanning his figure, fully taking in his appearance– the fabric of his dark gray hoodie a little stained with raindrops (you bet he ran from his car into the building without an umbrella. He seems like the type to be embarrassed about umbrellas.), the fabric of the garment enveloping his head and shading his face a little from the ugly yellow lights. His face is a little flushed– you presume it’s from the running– and his hair is falling into his face. You can barely see his eyes behind the curtain of chocolate locks– he really needs a trim.
“Damn, didn’t know you hated me so much that you can’t stand seeing me on my off days,” he jokes, leaning on the counter as if to stick his face as close as he can into yours. Thank god for the glass shielding you two– you think you’d give him a fist to the nose if you ever felt his breathing on your skin.
“I do,” you agree, impatiently drumming your fingers on the top of the table, “so tell me what you want so you can disappear again,” you say.
“I just went to check up on whether you were sleeping or not so I can tell my dad to fire you–”
“Kim Sunwoo–”
He puts his arms up defensively, eyebrows raising at your threatening tone. “Okay, not really. I don’t actually care that much. Besides, you promised to quit yourself anyway, so,” he explains, shrugging to himself, “believe it or not, I’m here to buy tickets for a movie.”
You shoot him a stare, the look in your eyes dead, stone cold as you ponder on his words. It’s cold outside, it’s raining, and Kim Sunwoo just happens to decide to buy tickets for a movie today. In a cinema that he works at. In a cinema that he works at tomorrow.
“You work tomorrow…?” you mirror your inner monologue, kind of confused at the turn of events.
“You know my schedule? I’m flattered–”
The irritation is slowly creeping into your bones again. Actually, it has been since he arrived, but the more he talks, the more agitating the whole encounter feels. Maybe you should tape his mouth shut the next time you see him– you bet the day would be so much better if you don’t have to listen to him talk. 
“Why don’t you just buy the tickets tomorrow when you work? Didn’t have to walk here in the rain,” you explain, sighing to prove just how annoyed you are with his presence.
“Because I kinda need them today,” he says, clarifying to you with the tone you use when you explain mundane things to a child.
You don’t know what he did in his past life to get the ability to annoy you each and every time you meet him, but you’d like some of it to get back at him in your next life. Why you’re even thinking of past lives and the possibility of meeting Kim Sunwoo in your next one, you’re not really certain, but if it helps you to not smash the glass separating you two, you guess you can get behind the thought process.
“Okay,” you nod, painfully calm for the amount of screaming you’ve been doing internally, “what movie?” you ask, turning your body to the computer on your right and breaking eye contact with him. If he’s a customer, you’re going to treat him like one– no small talk and no arguments. You won’t ruin your day even more over a man that doesn’t know what chapstick is. (You don’t stare at his lips, just for the record. It’s just painfully obvious when he talks. Sometimes you want to reach over and pluck away the dead skin with your fingers– you won’t, though. That would be weird.)
Sunwoo straightens his back as he fishes for his wallet in the front pocket of his jeans. “National Treasure,” he smiles, making you break into cold sweat, “two tickets, please.”
Like a scene in a horror movie, your head turns without moving the rest of your body, eyes twitching when you see him standing at the other side of the booth, calm and collected. Suddenly, the scene makes sense– he bought the tickets to see your favorite movie on the day of your shift. Of course. He just has to rub it in your face. 
Not only are you working that day. You will also most likely serve popcorn to him as he goes inside with whoever he is buying the second ticket for. And you will try not to trip him on his way inside the screening room.
It was a smart move for him to not go inside the ticket booth with you, even though he has all the right to. You bet he knows you’d claw his eyes out if you had the chance.
“You have to be kidding me.”
“What? I can’t buy tickets for a movie?” he asks, innocence dripping off his tongue.
Breathing deeply– while trying to contain the demon that’s begging to crawl out of your insides and tear him into 25 different pieces– you smile ironically at the male, gulping before you speak. “That would be 12 dollars, please,” you say, your customer service voice turning kind of eerie.
Not even letting the male choose his seats– he lost the privilege when he decided to come and buy the tickets for your favorite movie– you print out two tickets with the worst possible view (the ones in the first row, far right. If Sunwoo loses his neck because he has to look up at the screen for the entirety of the movie, well, who are you to hate that) and offer them to your coworker.
Like a mind game, the male slips them into his pocket without even looking at them, not breaking eye contact with you sitting behind the booth. 
“Have a nice day,” he says as he takes two steps back before fully turning and escaping through the front door, figure dashing towards the old Prius parked in front of the building.
Bawling your hands into fists, you try the breathing exercises you found the other week. Calm your body and your mind, the title said. You knew you’d need those when you saved the post into one of your boards on Pinterest.
Still, you can’t help yourself. You simply cannot. You let it out– it’s not healthy to keep negativity inside. 
He can’t hear you, but you still mutter a spiteful “I hope you choke,” under your breath as you settle back into the uncomfortable surface of the chair.
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TONIGHT’S PREMIERE – YOU’VE GOT MAIL (1998)
Remember the time you said you didn’t really mind having more shifts in November, because it meant a bigger paycheck? Yeah… that was true. For a few days.
Until you got a phone call one day from none other than Kim Sunwoo– whose number you didn’t even want to save into your contacts, but after his insisting that it’s for work purposes, did so under the name ‘dumpster raccoon’– telling you that you have to get to work immediately, that his dad said so, and that it’s an emergency. 
Do you believe him? No. Absolutely not. 
His tone of voice was too calm to be in an emergency. If his dad wanted you to come to work today, he could’ve called you himself instead of making his son do it. And also, you really don’t know what’s so important to take care of on a Wednesday, since it’s the slow day of the week, but still– you angrily took off the facemask from your face before the timer even went off, shut your laptop with a half-watched episode of The office in your Netflix window, changed out of your comfy clothes and marched towards the cinema. 
Because you never know. He might be saying the truth, after all. And if that was the case, you didn’t want to be caught disobeying your boss.
You get to the old movie theater on the corner of the town center at 4 in the afternoon. The sky is already getting dark and you feel the coldness of November seeping into your bones, and so you waste no time in getting inside and chasing the heat of the vintage-looking interior. Your boots make a thudding sound as you walk across the hall, seeing Sunwoo sitting in the ticket booth in his usual habitat: with his phone in his hands and his feet up on the table, chewing on his favorite strawberry mints. Now this sight screams emergency if you’ve ever seen one.
“What was so important for you to call me to work and then chill in the ticket booth all afternoon?” you ask, spite slipping off your tongue with every word you speak. 
Sunwoo looks up at you from under his eyelashes, hair still slightly shielding his eyes. He doesn’t even have his uniform on– there’s a gray hoodie enveloping his torso (you swear he lives in this garment. You wonder if he even washes it sometimes) and black jeans hanging off his hips– and the more you stare at him, the more you feel like punching him in the face.
“Oh,” he hums, stretching out his limbs from the hours of sitting on the chair unmoving, “dad said to tell you to clean the screening room. Since it’s Thursday tomorrow, and all.”
The look on his face is innocent. He looks like he just told you the most casual piece of information– and truth be told, he kind of did. The whole thing is just not making any sense right now. 
“I should clean the screening room today? You’re on the clock, though, why don’t you do it?” you ask, frustration clearly written all over your face. You were looking forward to having a self-care day today, so you can only imagine how tired of his endeavors you are right in this moment. 
“Yeah, but I am on ticket booth duty, so I can’t,” he shrugs, frowning a little to prove his nonexistent point.
“It’s Wednesday. It’s not busy. You know you can do both.”
“Look, it’s not me, it’s my dad–”
“Is it? Is it, Sunwoo?” you huff, arms flying into the air. “Or are you just using me to do the work you don’t feel like doing? Because it really does seem like that right now,” you bite, running your hand through your hair in exasperation. 
“Do you want me to call him?” Sunwoo asks, tone of voice suddenly threatening. 
A heartbeat passes. You continue to have a staring contest with him. The fury inside of you rages like a storm. Still, you nod to the feeling of authority coming from your actual boss, and so you wordlessly turn on your heel and march towards the screening room, ready to clean the place in the least amount of time so you can go home and back to your selfcare endeavors. (You’re adding printing out Sunwoo’s face and throwing darts at it to the list of activities. You think you really need that right now.)
The screening room is dark when you come inside, and as you reach towards the lightswitch, you almost fear something jumping at you. See, the traumatic response from being locked up in the toilet from your coworker is still very present in your bones. When you stop working here, you’re going to ask for financial compensation for all the damage this boy did on your mental health.
You walk down the aisle of seats and try to inspect the damage. No movies air on Wednesday and there was only one kids movie going on Tuesday, so you can either expect it to be almost clean, or full of snacks that fell off the hands of grabby children during the cartoon. The more you inspect the place, though, the more it seems like… somebody already cleaned it before?
The floor is clean. The laminated surface under the seats has no smudge of dirt on it, like someone already mopped the place. And when you think back, the bins were empty as well.
The screening room was definitely cleaned before.
Which means that Sunwoo brought you here for absolutely nothing.
Suddenly, the lights go out. The whole room falls into darkness, and the anger inside of your veins very quickly mixes with panic as you try to climb up the stairs on the side of the screening room and escape. Your throat gets dry as you yell for your coworker, not really caring if your next outburst is going to get you fired or not.
“Kim Fucking Sunwoo, why the fuck did you call me to clean an already cleaned screening room?!” you yell, not really knowing if he hears you or not. Doesn’t matter– it feels cathartic to do so anyway.
Your feet stumble on the awkwardly-long stairs, your figure almost falling to the ground. Managing to hold yourself up and steady your body before your head hits the sharp corner of one of the stairs and makes you die, you continue on with your small tangent. “You really think this is funny? You’re having fun pranking me all the time? I hate your guts, Kim Sunwoo, and I hope you burn in hell!”
A bright light suddenly illuminates the screening room, coming from somewhere behind you. When you look over your shoulder, the screen is white for a few moments before the opening credits of a Jerry Buckheimer film flash on the big surface, halting you in your movements. The sound is a little too loud in the speakers, but it gets adjusted the moment you almost lose your hearing. The moment you see Nicolas Cage appear, it’s clear as day.
There’s a movie playing. And the movie playing is National treasure. 
You think you’re hallucinating. This is surely a fata morgana.
Standing in the middle of the screening room, your mouth hangs agape and your eyes go wide as you watch the first few scenes of the movie. Ben Gates already learns about the hidden treasure passed down through American history when you feel a slight nudge to your shoulder, making you turn your head to see a tall figure staring you down with a bucket of popcorn in their hands.
You are confused. So utterly confused. The movie was on last week. You’d know– you worked the snack booth that day. The screening room is empty and it’s Wednesday– what’s going on? 
“Can you sit? Or are you just going to watch the movie standing in the aisle,” Sunwoo grunts, balancing the big bucket of popcorn and two drinks in his large hands, the sight comical and almost making you want to watch him suffer some more.
Caught off guard, though, you let him back you into the aisle of seats, your figure slouching into one of the red cushions like a rag doll. Sunwoo takes place next to you, placing the big bucket of popcorn into your lap, before he settles into a seat as well and focuses his eyes and attention on the movie.
“What… what is this?” you ask, frozen in the seat. 
“Hm?” Sunwoo frowns, looking at you. “National treasure,” he hums, “I thought you’d know, since you threw a scene about it that one time.”
“I- I know that, I just…” you trail off, still surprised at the turn of events, “what’s going on right now…?”
“We’re watching National treasure,” he notes, talking to you as if you were slow.
“What…?”
A sigh escapes Sunwoo’s lips at your utter confusion, his hand coming up to the bucket of popcorn in your lap and throwing a handful of the snack into his mouth before speaking. “Look, Y/N. You said you wanted to watch your favorite movie in the cinema, so that’s what you’re doing. Enjoy my owner’s son privileges for once,” he shrugs, watching as your face morphs into an unreadable expression.
That explanation satisfies you for a bit. The shock in your insides, though? Still present.
There’s something about the whole gesture that makes your stomach feel uneasy. Sunwoo did something nice for you– out of the kindness of his own heart– and you really don’t know why he would even think of something like this. You two aren’t on the best terms either, after all. Maybe he finally went crazy.
Or maybe you did and this was all the result of your imagination. Either or. 
Yeah, you must be the one that’s gone batshit insane. Surely. You’re certain of the fact when you reach for the popcorn and accidentally touch his hand, the two of you deciding to get some at the same time, and your stomach does a flip and your brain makes a sign for you to quickly retract your hand– but the feeling of his slightly cold hand against your fingertips is now engraved into your memory and won’t leave and let you focus on the movie no matter how hard you try.
“You wouldn’t have to do this if you just let me switch schedules with you that time,” you note, “just saying.”
“I couldn’t,” he shrugs.
“Huh? But you bought two tickets..?”
“Yeah, but those were for my friends. I had to drive my mum down to grandmas that day, so I couldn’t go or take your shift that day,” he hums, not once breaking eye contact with the screen.
“If you would’ve just said so, I wouldn’t have made a scene about it–”
“Yeah… but I enjoy watching you make a scene,” he grins, shifting his attention towards you for a second with that lazy smirk playing with his lips. His hair is falling into his eyes and you have the urge to get it out of his face with a motion of your hand while also scolding him like a mother to finally get a haircut, just so you could see the twinkle in his mischievous orbs.
“You need to get serious help, then,” you grunt, pointing your gaze back towards the screen, unable to look at his face for any longer. He’s being annoying again. You’re annoyed.
“Probably,” he admits.
You two sit in silence for a while, the only sound accompanying you being the movie playing out on the big screen in front of you. You think this is the calmest you two have ever been around each other, and you’re starting to think that if Sunwoo just didn’t talk, you two could even get along.
Something touches the side of your thigh in the darkness of the room. Eyes darting to the source, you notice Sunwoo’s thigh pressing against yours, the cause of his obnoxious man-spreading, and something about the closeness of his body and the smell of his citrusy cologne makes you feel like your chest is heaving in on itself. You can’t stand him around you. You two can’t share this close of a space.
“Are you not leaving?” you ask.
“No,” he hums, “should I be?”
“Well, you’re on the clock…”
The man snickers, shaking his head in disbelief. “Y/N, you and I both know that the possibility of someone coming to buy a ticket on a Wednesday afternoon is close to zero. Me being there makes no difference in today’s sales.”
His hand knocks into yours again as you reach for more popcorn. You gulp, nodding. “Right…”
“And I wanted to see the movie to see if it’s really that good to make a scene about it,” he teases, another playful look sent your way from the corner of his eye.
You grunt, rolling your eyes. Oh how you hate his guts…
And even though you love the movie, you pray for it to end quickly. The more time you spend with Sunwoo forced into your zone of comfort, the more uncomfortable you feel– even the slightest movement of his body affects you and makes your brain turn on overdrive. It’s strange and it’s weird, and you don’t understand how hatred for a person could manifest in such reactions. 
It’s better that you didn’t notice you two sitting in the love seat. God knows you wouldn’t handle that well. You’d rather die than to hold on to that knowledge.
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TONIGHT’S PREMIERE – CLUELESS (1995)
They say that you only start realizing just how stupid people can be when you work in customer service. As one of the only three employees of the small, vintage cinema on the corner of the town’s square, you can only agree with the sentiment– you have a lot of stories to tell about the wonders of the human brain.
Like that one time you got screamed at because the movie tickets were ‘too expensive’ – because naturally, you should be able to change the price of them when asked. Or that one time you got screamed at because the movie tickets were sold out– because naturally, you should add more seats to the screening room just for the two middle-aged women to sit on during the premiere of the newest Orlando Bloom movie. Or when somebody yelled at you for the toilets being full after the movie– naturally, you are supposed to throw people out in the middle of them peeing. Or build new stalls. Either or.
They say that you only start realizing just how stupid people can be when you work in customer service, but truly, you also realize just how rude they can also be for no reason at all.
Much like today. It’s Friday, which means it’s premiere night. The tickets to all movies this week are sold out already, so no one is on ticket booth duty, and much to your relief, Mr Kim took the snack stand himself. Your responsibility for the day is scanning the tickets and then making sure no one is getting inside during the movie without a ticket. 
It’s not a hard job. Not at all– you would even say nothing about working in the cinema is hard, when you don’t have an annoying coworker trying to make your whole life a living hell– but you see, customers love to make your job harder just by being unreasonably rude about things that are clearly out of your control. 
“Sir, I really can’t let you in, I’m sorry,” you say, tone of voice polite despite screaming on the inside. In front of you is standing a tall man, maybe a few years older than you, the expression on his face full of anger and vexation. They say a customer is always right. You agree only when the customer looks like they could wait for you after work and beat you up in the bushes. Sadly, that still doesn’t mean you can let the man inside without a valid ticket.
“What do you mean? Little one, I’m telling you I bought the ticket here, so if you don’t let me in–”
“All tickets purchased for the screening should be able to scan through this, sir, and if it doesn’t work, I am not allowed to let you inside of the cinema,” you try to explain, getting kind of desperate. The line behind him was forming and the movie was supposed to play in a few minutes, so if you wanted to scan all the tickets in time, you had to be quick.
He wouldn’t budge, though. His eyebrows are furrowed and the guy behind him seems to be getting angry as well, making the hair on the back of your neck stand up alert, like a cat when it senses danger. You try your hardest to keep your tone firm, hands clasped politely behind your back. “I’m gonna have to ask you to leave, sir, or maybe check in with the owner about the issue? I don’t have the competence to–”
“Listen, I won’t be talking to anyone, because you will let me in, okay?”
“Sir, I can’t-”
Your sentence is cut off by the man again, his fury making you take a step backwards in fear. “And if you don’t, you will see the consequences.”
Gulping, you try to think of a way to get out of this situation. Mr Kim is too far away for you to call, and he is also busy– the line is long and Sunwoo isn’t working today. It’s just the two of you today, so your options are getting slimmer. You can’t let that man in without a working ticket– it seems like the one he’s showing you is either a fake one, or bought in another cinema– but it seems like if you don’t, he’ll have you dead before the next morning. 
“So?”
Opening your mouth to answer (although your brain is still empty and you don’t even know what more to say), a low voice coming from behind you startles you in the middle of your crisis. “Is there a problem here?” 
Turning your head to the source of the voice, you’ve never been more relieved to see Kim Sunwoo in your close proximity. You watch as he puts a rolled-up poster to the ground behind you before he takes another step closer towards your figure, his expression stone cold and glaring at the man in front of you. 
“Your coworker here won’t let me in to watch the movie,” he complains, hand waving around in a threatening way. 
Just having Sunwoo around makes you more confident. Clearing your throat, your eyes dart to your coworker, seeing his face morph into irritation. “It won’t scan his ticket, so…”
“If it won’t scan your ticket, it means it’s invalid and we’re not allowed to let you in,” Sunwoo says, tone of voice way less polite than the one you were using before.
“That’s ridiculous-”
“You are ridiculous,” Sunwoo grunts, annoyance clearly written all over his face. “You were asked to leave, so maybe you should.” 
Truth be told, you’ve been in a couple of arguments with Sunwoo before. In none of them has he ever looked and sounded like this, though. You and Sunwoo argue with spite– sparks flying waiting to start a fire, curses and harsh words thrown around carelessly in moments of heated hatred. His tone is stern, but never threatening. Never mean. Not in the way he’s being right now.
It makes you stare at him wordlessly. He seems to be taking the lead in the situation, reacting territorially to the man in front of him. You can’t say you don’t feel safer with him around– you would be lying.
“Maybe you could just let me in and get this over with–” 
“And maybe you could fuck off,” Sunwoo says back, something in his tone making your stomach feel all light. He looks serious, standing his ground, and the man finally seems to get the memo that he’s not watching the premiere tonight, because he backs off and grits his teeth at the male.
“Your boss will hear about this,” he threatens, making Sunwoo chuckle.
“I’m sure he will.”
Sympathetic looks are thrown your way from the women in the line behind that can finally come up to you so you scan their tickets. You smile at each one and try to seem unaffected by the exchange, but the memory of it still lingers in your brain and doesn’t make you rest easy as you greet the rest of the customers. 
You didn’t even realize Sunwoo was still standing next to you, watching you work. He seems to recognise your shaken-up composure, tone of voice sympathetic and quiet as he asks: “You okay?”
“What?” you ask, surprised by the question, “oh. Yeah, I’m fine. He was just… being a bitch, the usual.”
“Yeah,” he snickers, “why didn’t you just scream at him like you do to me? I bet that would scare him away,” he notes, making you roll your eyes at the comment.
“Because he looked like he could beat me up, Sunwoo.”
“And I don’t?” he gasps, suddenly offended.
You scan the boy up and down, pretending to think it over for a few before you shake your head. “No,” you shrug, “I could beat you up.”
“Excuse you?” he gasps, crossing his arms at his chest in a defensive stance, the shock on his face mixing in with amusement. 
“Don’t believe me? Wanna try?” you test, the conversation suddenly flowing freely, without you even noticing. You don’t pay it much thought, but you guess getting along with Sunwoo is easier when he’s on your side. Most of the time, he’s not, though– and maybe that’s the problem.
“Okay,” he nods, “meet me in the back when you’re off. No weapons allowed, we’ll do it the street style. This is a battle of fists,” he points a finger at you, the sentence making you sigh dreamily and point your eyes towards the ceiling.
“You can’t even imagine how long I’ve been waiting for this moment.”
Sunwoo smiles at that– that dumb, boyish smile you usually so despise– and shakes his head at your antics. The conversation dies down a bit after the exchange– with you scanning the tickets and trying your hardest to make it through the line before the movie starts, when your coworker, dressed in none other than his signature gray hoodie and black jeans, nudges you with his elbow. “Want me to stay for a bit, or are you good now?”
“I can take care of myself, Sunwoo,” you sigh, “you can go about your day.”
“Well, it didn’t seem like it a few minutes ago–”
“I can take care of myself when I’m not confronted with a tall muscled man that is threatening me, Sunwoo,” you repeat, looking at the rest of the line, “so with him gone now, you can go about your day. What are you even doing here, by the way? I thought you were off today.”
“I am,” he nods, rocking a little in his place, shifting weight from his heels towards his toes, “I was just… here to drop off something for you,” he says, clearing his throat and pointing towards the poster he was holding when he first approached you, the shiny tube now resting against the nearest wall. 
You shoot the boy a curious look, eyebrows furrowed in question. You don’t get to ask for clarification about the character of the poster, because he abruptly cuts off your train of thought, speaking fast as if to avoid making any more conversation with you. “I’ll see you in the back after you’re done for that fist fight, then. Bye!”
And before you get a chance to say anything back, Sunwoo swiftly turns on his heel and awkwardly marches towards the front door. You don’t have much time to inspect the thing he dropped off for you, but after you’re done with scanning the tickets and have time to breathe when the movie starts, you allow yourself to peek inside– 
only to see a National treasure poster staring back at you, surface glossy and glimmering, as if you just opened a chest full of gold. 
As you take the poster to the staff room with you (while also wearing a huge, embarrassing grin on your face for someone staring at the face of Nicolas Cage), making sure it’s safe and sound until you can bring it home with you, you wonder why you haven’t been civil with Kim Sunwoo before.
It’s good to have a taste of his owner’s son privileges sometimes.
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TONIGHT’S PREMIERE – ME BEFORE YOU (2016)
The day is Friday, the 1st of December. Mr Kim’s ‘Rewind Thursdays' event is over and while Fridays are always the premiere days, meaning you usually have to work the evenings either in the snack booth or in the ticket booth, your boss told you you can have the night off under one condition– you come in the morning (since you told him your classes are done for the semester, he’s been keen on making you work at random times of the day) and help Sunwoo with Christmas decorations in the cinema.
And, well, who are you to say no to a free evening? Maybe you can finally have that self-care time you’ve been needing before your exam season starts.
“Can you get the ladder from the back?” Sunwoo asks, tone of voice not at all interested. You don’t know what the reasoning behind his mood is, but you figure it’s either the fact that he had to get up before 12, or the fact that he doesn’t really seem like the type to like decorating.
“Why don’t you get it?” you huff, wiping your forehead off the sweat that’s cumulated on it over the time you spent bringing out all the boxes full of decorations out of the staff room. “I brought everything in, maybe you can do some work for once.”
One would think your dynamics with Kim Sunwoo would shift after he’s been nice to you on multiple occasions. And sure, you don’t really fight with him as often and he hasn’t pulled a prank on you in a while, but some days, his whole presence is still just as annoying to you as it’s been for the past couple of months. There’s not really much you can do about it– especially not when he’s bossing you around and not doing any actual work himself.
“I built the christmas tree,” he grunts, opening one of the boxes full of ornaments, squinting at the contains with disgust on his face. “And I put up all the other useless stuff before you got here too,” he says, pointing a glare at you. 
Looking around the theater, you notice various types of decorations all over the place. There’s some mistletoe hanging off the ceiling (which has you wondering how he even got it there in the first place) and garlands framing all the doorways– the greenery making the whole place decorated in a very vintage tone. It’s fitting to the theme of the cinema, though, and you can tell that Sunwoo really can’t be arsed to do any better, so you don’t mention it out loud in favor of avoiding another one of your petty cat fights.
Admitting your defeat, you storm back into the staff room and carry out the tall ladder, struggling to fit through the doorways and to cross the corners, praying to all higher forces that you don’t accidentally scratch off pieces of the wall on your way to Sunwoo.
You put down the metal construction with a loud thud, making the boy look up at you from beneath his bangs, the silent curse evident in his eyes. You don’t know what’s up with him, but again, you won’t ask. You try to tell yourself that you don’t really care either, but with every glance towards his direction, the question keeps bugging you and dancing around your brain. 
You force yourself not to care.
Watching as he tries to untangle the Christmas lights, struggle evident in the frustration written all over his face, you sigh and walk over to him, taking the bundle of wire out of his hands and threading your skilled fingers through the lengthy cable. You’re an expert in untangling– you don’t own bluetooth headphones, so you do this pretty much every day before listening to some music. Your headphones love to tangle in your pocket no matter how neatly you try to keep them in your pants– it’s a mystery. Almost like the Bermuda triangle. 
“I can do it myself,” Sunwoo huffs, eyebrows furrowing when he watches you work your magic.
“You seemed like it too,” you ironically note, letting the spiteful side of you win, enjoying yourself when you’re rewarded by the snarky roll of Sunwoo’s eyes– everything is back to normal. You two aren’t friends, you don’t like to be in each other’s presence, and no number of shiny stolen posters and private sessions in the screening room will ever change that.
“Hold this,” you say, thrusting the end of the cord into his hand, walking a few meters away from him as you detangle the lights, watching as he impatiently stomps the floor with his heel, reminding you of Snowball from The secret life of pets movie.
When you’re done and the Christmas lights are now a straight line of wire, you slowly walk over to the tall tree in the middle of the room, wrapping the lights around the fake forest-green needles. You’re glad that the lights are long enough to cover the whole thing and you don’t have to untangle another ones, and when you’re done, you watch your coworker plug them in, examining the small, colorful light bulbs. 
“Okay, now the ornaments,” you say, more to yourself than to anybody in the room, as you waltz over to the boxes and take out the decorations varying in shapes and sizes. You don’t really know what color scheme Mr Kim wants you to go for– and you doubt Sunwoo is aware either, so you just take out the ornaments you find the most pretty and hang them all over the tree, making sure each branch is covered.
Sunwoo stands around for a while, unmoving as he watches you, before he sighs to himself and finally decides to help. You leave him be, thinking that it’s for the best if you two don’t speak today when he’s in such a bad mood, but you break that promise almost immediately when you stare back at the tree after retrieving some more ornaments from the box to your right and notice the almost painful clash of colors.
You should’ve known you can’t trust a man with decorating. The beautiful contrast of the baby pink and brown ornaments you put on the tree is now ruined by the green ones you intentionally left on the bottom of the box. The colors don’t go together at all and you want to claw your eyes out every second you have to stare at it.
“Sunwoo, those colors don’t go together at all,” you say, point and blank– no sugarcoating, no offensive words, just straight facts.
“What do you mean?”
“I mean, that tree looks terrifying, and it’s all because you ruined it,” you say.
Okay, maybe you are overreacting just the slightest. But isn’t there fun in making your coworker completely out of his mind? Is this your roles being reversed for the first time? Are you finally winning this little game? 
Nevertheless, you are enjoying the outburst that follows from Sunwoo. Mainly because he looks like a child throwing a tantrum as he huffs and takes off the green ornaments he put on to the tree and throws the handful back into the cardboard box, not really caring if they break or not. You’ll be replaying this scene in your head forever before you go to sleep, for the absolute frustration and annoyance on his face is one of your biggest trophies. Right now, though, you’re battling the urge to laugh.
“Fine, do it yourself, then,” Sunwoo says as he walks away from the tree, choosing to sit on the floor cross-legged, taking out his phone and scrolling through social media.
Again, you don’t know what’s gotten into him today, but you force yourself not to care. You have a job to finish here so you can go home and enjoy your day, and that’s why exactly you just shrug and finish putting on the pretty ornaments, admiring your work every once in a while when you take a break and stare on the tall tree, kind of breathless from the beauty.
You’re not really big on Christmas, but you must admit that this is fun. 
The sound of Sunwoo swiping through Instagram reels is the only thing accompanying your actions, and as you look over your shoulder and see his almost sad face, you bite your lip just to not ask him what’s the matter. You’re not supposed to care. And you don’t.
“Can’t you put some festive music on?” you ask instead, your lips just begging to have a conversation with the male, despite your best judgment.
“No,” Sunwoo barks back, not even taking his eyes off the phone as the sound of the reel changes into another one, a swipe of his thumb across the screen showing him another video. 
Nodding to yourself, you carefully try to pick out your next words. Not really sure how to address the male, you choose to approach him with a hint of humor you’re not sure he’ll appreciate. “What’s up with you? You’re bitchier than usual,” you say, scanning the male with cautious eyes.
Sunwoo stops for a while– a millisecond of him halting his scrolling, an action you wouldn’t notice if you weren’t trying to see any shift in his composure– before he speaks up again. “Nothing,” he shrugs.
“Okay,” you say, a tone of voice full of doubt. 
When you conclude that you’re not getting more answers out of him, you nod to yourself and dart back towards the Christmas tree, making sure you make more eye contact with the glossy ornaments than with your coworker sitting behind you on the ground. Not much time passes by before he speaks up again, though, tone of voice quiet and hesitant.
“I’m just not in the mood today,” he sighs, “I have a final next week and it’s stressing me out, I haven’t slept well in quite a few days, my dad’s making me work more than usual and on top of that, I absolutely hate winter.”
“You hate winter?” you choose to focus on the least serious topic of the little rant, not really knowing when your boundaries lay in discussing the more serious ones.
“Yeah,” Sunwoo chuckles, “it’s like a shittier fall. It’s cold and dark all the time. It would be different if it snowed, though. I love it when it snows.”
Snickering at his sudden confession, you shake your head. “You’re like a little kid.”
“I remember you calling me a child once,” Sunwoo hums in agreement.
“That was different,” you say, hoping to cheer the male up at least a bit with your usual quarrel.
“I figured by the way you threw the toilet brush to my chest,” Sunwoo laughs, the memory of torturing you fond in his brain. The poster he gave you almost made you forget about the fact that he managed to make your life a living hell for quite some time– maybe you should consider this a wake-up call.
The conversation quiets down for a bit, even the sound of Sunwoo’s Instagram reels discontinued as you two marvel in the now much more comfortable silence. Testing the waters, you clear your throat before speaking up again. “Don’t worry about that exam, by the way. I’m sure you’ll do well.”
“How would you know?”
“You’re clever. You need to be clever to come up with all various ways to make my life more miserable,” you say, smiling when you hear him let out a breath of air through his nose, signaling a silent laugh.
“Any advice on the sleepless nights?” he asks, tone of voice light and humorous.
“Less things in your head,” you hum, putting the last ornament onto one of the branches, satisfied with your work. “Or melatonin.”
“Noted,” he nods, sharing a smile with you.
Walking over to the boxes stored a few feet away from the male, you open up the slim one thrown on the side, holding up the star. Your eyes meet his, a carefree twinkle in your orbs when you try to cheer up the boy’s inner child by doing a child's favorite activity. “Do you want to put the star on?”
He fails you, though. “No.”
“Why not?”
“You decorated it all yourself, so you can do the star,” he shrugs, not really into your idea.
“Oh come on–”
“I don’t feel like standing up,” Sunwoo grunts, the joy on your insides finally dying down when you get a taste of his usual composure– the one that really can’t be arsed with anything. 
Sighing to yourself, you waltz over to the tall ladder, and despite your biggest worries, you continue climbing up the metal construction even when it wobbles and makes you fear you’re gonna fall. The whole thing is kind of unsteady and makes your heart thump in your throat, but you choose to get it over with and finally climb to the very top, outstretching your arm and putting the star on top of the tree, the decoration process now done and freeing you off your today’s work responsibilities.
Something akin to satisfaction beams in your insides as you climb down the ladder, and now, you’ll write this off to you being a little too excited with the vision of a face mask and popcorn at home– but your leg slips on one of the steps and despite the ladder being now magically steady, your body comes crashing down to the floor.
A yelp fights out of your throat, hands go flying in a desperate need to steady yourself or hold on to something that would make you not fall hard against the marble floor, when a miracle straight down from heaven comes to rescue in a form of flesh holding you up and shielding you from the fall, a grunt landing in your ears when your body settles into soft fabric of dark gray.
Head snapping to the source of the arms around your waist, surprised at the person’s strength used to balance you two on your feet as you fell (well, your knees buckled, but still, they haven’t yet hit the ground), you notice a pair of chocolate orbs staring down at you through a curtain of dark hair, wide eyes scanning your face and breathing out a puff of air.
“Look where you’re stepping next time, for fuck’s sake,” Sunwoo huffs, watching as your brain tries to process the near-death experience.
Registering his arms firmly placed around your waist (now realizing the soft fabric was the hoodie he’s been living in for the past few months), the citrusy scent of his cologne makes your head spin, eyes scanning his face in quick motions, as if not aware of who was your savior. You wonder how he even got to you on time (not really noticing him walking over to the ladder as soon as he saw it wobbling under you, holding it down to keep you from toppling over), and when your eyes curiously gaze at his chapped, yet plush lips, the warmth in your stomach makes you finally snap out of it. 
Untangling yourself out of his limbs, much like you did with the Christmas lights a few minutes ago, you clear your throat and try to get your breathing back to normal. Your knees are a little weak, but you write that off to the shock of falling. 
“This wouldn’t have happened if you just agreed to put the star on,” you complain, straightening your clothes as you walk over to the empty boxes nearby, stacking them into one another and avoiding all possible eye contact with the male.
It’s working– at least that’s what you keep telling yourself– up until you hear him chuckle and see a pair of hands taking the tower of boxes out of your hold, a charming grin sent your way as he walks away from you to the staff room. “If you say so.”
Okay, so it’s not working.
You’re fucked.
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TONIGHT’S PREMIERE – THE PROPOSAL (2009)
“So… I was thinking,” Sunwoo starts one day, a bundle of rolled-up posters stacked up in his arms like a pyramid, puffs of cold air making clouds appear in front of his face as he speaks, “would you want to go see a movie with me?” he asks, tone of voice casual, as if he was asking you about the weather.
The poster you’re currently putting up into one of the glass holders outside of the cinema almost slips out of your frozen fingers out of shock, your heart skipping a beat. “Huh?” you hum, taking out a container full of pins out of your coat pocket and securing the poster to its designated place. “You want to bring money to your father’s competitor?” you joke.
“What? No,” he quickly replies, furrowing his brows as he shakes his head. “I meant, like, here,” he says, nodding towards the building to prove his point, taking a step aside when you close the glass door of the poster holder and move towards the next one, 3 more movie banners left to put up outside of the cinema. 
The wires in your brain work on full force, trying to clear out any confusion caused by his sudden invitation. Sure, you two have gotten closer ever since you talked with him at the Christmas tree a week ago, but still, you didn’t know it was enough to hang out outside of work hours. 
Instead of focusing the conversation on this unpredictable development, you turn towards clearing out the logistics instead. “How would we even do that? We either work at the same time or you work when I don’t and the other way around,” you say, taking the next poster from him and putting it up.
All of the movies airing the next two weeks are Christmas movies. Some of them are old, some of them are premieres, but still– you can’t really imagine watching a festive movie with your coworker. Up until last week, you thought of him as the next reincarnation of Grinch.
“I could get my sister to switch with me on a day you don’t work,” he hums, sheepish about his preposition. There’s something bashful in his tone, something shy in his gaze as he watches you put up the movie poster, but you try your hardest to ignore it for the sake of your sanity. You’re already having a hard time dealing with the fact that he appeared in your dreams twice since he caught you in his arms last week. You don’t need to add the switch in dynamic to the mix.
“Isn’t she underage?” you ask, snickering.
“Yeah, and?” he shrugs. “It’s a family business, Y/N. Everyone has to be included, underage or not.”
A laugh erupts out of your throat at the comment, shaking your head at the boy in disbelief. 
“What would you even wanna see? Those are all Christmas movies,” you say, moving along and focusing your attention to the glossy material in your fingers.
“I don’t see how that’s a problem,” he says. 
“Oh, it is,” you mutter, “I don’t like Christmas movies.”
Sunwoo grunts. “Well, I don’t really care. I saw your favorite movie with you, so you can return the favor and see my favorite movie with me,” he speaks up, making you roll your eyes at his words.
“There’s no way any of those movies is your favorite,” you note, doubtful tone haunting the boy.
“You wouldn’t know,” he laughs, making your heart do cartwheels at the sound, his teasing making you feel warmth despite the cold breeze trying to make your bones freeze into blocks of ice. 
“I won’t go unless I believe you,” you say, grinning as you close the glass box and take the last poster out of Sunwoo’s hands, watching as the boy puts his frozen fingers into the comfort of his warm jacket, shielding them from the cold. 
“Not fair.”
“Very fair, actually.”
“Oh come on,” he sighs, shaking his head in disagreement, “I thought we could watch a Christmas movie as a celebration to the end of semester,” he says, tone of voice almost pleading.
Securing the last banner into its designated place, you turn towards Sunwoo with an examining look on your face. He seems to be completely serious, eyes big pools of honey as he watches your face morph as you think. Something in your stomach makes it feel like it’s flying, making you clear your throat as you avert your gaze towards the line of Christmas movie posters on the brick wall. “Fine,” you gulp, “so what do you wanna watch?”
“The Polar Express,” he says, pointing towards the A3 scale you put up last, showing one of the movies that were older, but Mr Kim decided to air anyway– as if he was aware.
Fuck, you think. That’s my favorite. 
“Absolutely not,” you cough, “I hate that movie.”
“Huh? How?” he sighs, face full of disappointment. 
“Just because. It’s too long.”
“It’s not even two hours?”
Eyes quickly darting towards the poster, pupils shaking as you look towards the airing dates at the very bottom, you chew on your bottom lip, trying to find a way out. “You’re working on the 18th.”
“Okay, then we can go on the 19th,” Sunwoo says, determined to make you watch the movie with him. Why? You don’t even want to know at this point.
“I go home for Christmas break on the 19th,” you say, shrugging. “See? It wasn’t meant to be.”
“Y/N, come on–”
“Listen, can’t we just go back to hating each other instead of you annoying me about this stupid movie?” you sigh. In the whirlpool of events, you forgot just how insistent Sunwoo could be– who knows, maybe this was the real reason why you were so irritated with him in the first place.
Slowly walking back towards your workplace, hearing Sunwoo’s sneakers hit the ground behind you as he trails after you like a lost puppy, a sense of momentarily victory flows through your veins when you recognise that you found your way out. There was no way Mr Kim would let his underage daughter work instead of Sunwoo, and you truly were leaving home the evening of 19th. You already had a train ticket– you’re not gonna change your plans because of a man you despised just a few days ago.
“I never really hated you, by the way. Besides, you’re only saying that because you hate the movie,” Sunwoo grunts, chiming in front of you– making you think he’s being petty and doesn’t want to talk to you anymore, surprising you when he opens the door for you and offers you a solemn gaze, waiting for you to walk through the entryway and go back to work. (For you, it’s sitting in the ticket booth in silence. For Sunwoo, it’s pretending to work in the back, since his dad is absent today again)
Reciprocating his gaze, noticing the disappointment behind your coworker’s eyes, you feel something in your stomach drop, the weight of it so heavy you quickly avert your look. 
“Maybe,” you shrug.
And maybe, the true reason is something completely else. 
The words resonate through your brain– ‘I never really hated you, by the way’. Funny. Then what were all those months of torture all about?
You decide you no longer want answers.
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TONIGHT’S PREMIERE – WHEN HARRY MET SALLY (1989)
You can’t believe you’re doing something nice for Kim Sunwoo.
Shoes hitting the gravel, your scarf pulled up so it covers your nose from the ice cold air, a hat hugging your head in warmth and shielding you from the aggressive weather, you start to contemplate your choices and your next moves. A sigh escapes your throat when your eyes land on the marquee above the entrance of the movie theater, teeth chewing on the inside of your cheek as you shift your weight from one foot to another.
Pulling out your phone to check the time, a shiny 7:24PM stares back at you, pushing you to walk up to the door of your workplace on your day off, 24 minutes after the beginning of The polar express. 
You feel silly. You feel oh so stupid when you push the door open and your body is immediately engulfed in warmth, the yellow dim lights of the cinema making your eyes slowly adjust to the brightness contrasting the darkness of the outside world. You feel like you must have gone crazy, especially when your insides start to get all light and bubbly, hints of nerves tingling at the tips of your fingertips and the deepest corners of your stomach. There’s no turning back now, you tell yourself– and when your feet automatically take you to the ticket booth, gaze landing on the boy with his bangs in his eyes and an expression worthy of a kicked puppy on his face, you suddenly feel like your trip to the cinema was all worth it.
Clearing your throat, you notify your coworker of your presence, his big, doe eyes staring at you in surprise. Sunwoo’s mouth goes agape, shock overtaking his features when he takes in your appearance. (You bet he thinks you look laughable– your eyes teary from the cold and your figure stoic, numb limbs hanging by your side.)
“What are you doing here?” he asks, the question not as aggressive as it sounded out of your lips every time he paid a visit to the cinema on his days off for all these months.
“Uh… I forgot some things in the back and I wanted to take them home tomorrow, so I came back for them,” you hum, the practiced excuse slipping out of your lips with ease, “can you come help me?” 
Sunwoo looks even more surprised at your question– although there is now a hint of confusion in the mix. What could you possibly have in the back to need his help with? For as far as he knows, you only ever kept your work uniform in your locker. “What? Can’t you get it yourself…?” he asks, noticing as you shake your head in disapproval.
“It’s… it’s on the top of the lockers and I can’t reach it, so-”
“Grab a chair…?” 
You didn’t really expect to have Sunwoo question your half-assed excuse. Truly, you thought this was going to go smoothly– but knowing Kim Sunwoo, you should’ve known it was never going to go the way you planned. You’re determined to win, though. 
And so it’s the time to bring out the big guns– men never say no when you praise them and make yourself look incompetent.
“Please? I don’t feel like bringing a chair and you’re tall enough. It will only take a second…” you pout, watching as the male in front of you sighs and stands up from his seat, nodding at your humble request.
Sunwoo follows you as you walk down the corridor, your heart thumping with the start of your little plan. Your steps are calculated and your movements carefully programmed, the nervousness in your stomach making you even more giddy with every meter of distance you two cross. 
Before you two get a chance to make it to the back, you make a swift turn and open the doors to one of the rooms on the left of the hall, dragging Sunwoo by his hand and tugging him inside. His body stumbles against yours, but the door closes behind him faster than he can react to the impact. Steadying the boy back to his feet, you watch him with anticipation, awaiting his reaction.
The truth is, you haven’t thought the plan out this far. The depiction of it in your brain always ended with you sneaking him into the projecting room and his curious eyes peering into yours. Something about the image of the events always made you feel too overwhelmed– you never dared to imagine the situation further. (That would mean admitting some hidden desires to yourself, so you never even tried. That all makes this situation twice as nerve-wrecking, though.)
“What… are we doing here?” he asks, eyes darting around the darkness of the projection room, the only light illuminating his pretty features being the movie playing behind the glass of the small booth.
“Didn’t you say you wanted to watch The polar express with me?” you ask, voice a few octaves higher than usual. 
“I… did…” he mumbles, confusion making him stumble over his own words.
“Well, you are working and I leave tomorrow, so I figured I had to find a way…” you shrug, watching as Sunwoo looks at you a little frozen, big eyes staring you down, gears turning in his head. You can’t really read him– you don’t really know if he’s going to laugh at you or send you home for ruining his shift. You don’t know if he appreciates the gesture, or if he thinks you’re being embarrassing. You don’t know if he registers the slight tremble of your hands and the lightness of your breathing, you don’t know if he realizes how much his reaction could make your day or completely ruin it (just like always), and so, you panic– and when you panic, you ramble. “I know we are technically not supposed to be here– well, me, at least– but I think that being with the owner’s son could make my boss let me off even if he somehow finds out, which I doubt he will, but–”
Sunwoo’s face starts slowly morphing, the slightest of shifts slowly adding up to a change of expression, having the male break out into the biggest, happiest grin you’ve ever seen him sport. His eyes light up and glaze your features in the softest of touches, his head shaking in disbelief. “Oh, you’re adorable.”
“What?” you ask, your heart doing seven somersaults and five cartwheels, eyes a big pool of surprise.
“You did this for me?” he beams, his grin so big and pretty it takes your breath away. Butterfly wings tickle in your stomach at the sight, having you mentally curse yourself– hold it together, Y/N. 
“I- I mean, I didn’t really do anything, we just sneaked in–”
“This is the sweetest thing you’ve ever done for me,” Sunwoo hums, the teasing tone making its comeback in his voice, “actually, this might be the first sweet thing you’ve ever done for me–”
“Well, okay,” you roll your eyes, an embarrassed laugh dragging out of your throat as you turn on your heel and walk closer to the little table in the opposite end of the room, needing to avert your gaze from the boy for at least a second. The air is suddenly too heavy and it’s hard for you to breathe, heat rushing to your cheeks. 
Eyes focusing on the screen in front of you, your brain tries hard to focus on your favorite Christmas movie. Failing, your head running thoughts full of conflicting emotions and erratic exclamation marks screaming the name of the boy behind you, you ask yourself how and when exactly you’ve gotten yourself into this mess.
Maybe you shouldn’t have gotten this job in the first place.
Ears painfully alert, listening to each sound heard in the small projecting room– the shuffling of Sunwoo’s feet as he nears your figure, the muffled noise of the movie playing in the screening room in front of you, the resonance of your own heartbeat in your ears as Sunwoo’s hands suddenly sneak around your middle, your jacket squeaking from the contact of his limbs as he hugs you.
“What–”
“Don’t fight me, Y/N. Just this once,” he hums, voice deep, but still a bit hesitant. It’s like he’s walking on unsteady land, cautious of his movements in fear of making you run away. He’s in a new territory, in your personal space– the scent of his cologne fills your nostrils again as his head settles itself on your shoulder, the two of you silently watching the movie for a few seconds, not really knowing how to proceed.
There’s something intimate in the way he holds you, in the way the movie is a mere background noise to the marathon of your thoughts, the blue light illuminating your faces as you both try your hardest to keep your cool. 
A flashing thought of just how much you from a few months ago would hate the position it’s  in right now passes by your brain, making you instantly feel foolish. Oh how much you’d love it if you stood here unaffected right now– there’s no way to battle the warmth flooding your insides right at this moment, though.
“This is nice,” he mumbles, voice barely louder than a whisper. “Thank you,” he says, your insides squeezing at the sincerity. It’s not often you get to see this side of Sunwoo– the sweet, patient one, the side of him that makes you feel safe in his arms and appreciated with the soft tone in his words. And while you realize you don’t hate the playful side of him just as much as you thought you did, you must admit the novelty of the situation makes you feel a bit more joyful than you’d like to admit.
The weight of his head disappears from your shoulder, making you feel momentarily disappointed by the action. You expect him to pull away and take a seat on the chair, to finally focus on the movie playing in front of your eyes, the thought alone making your spirit fall. The fire in your inside lights up like a match thrown into a pool of gasoline just as fast again, though, when you feel soft lips come in contact with your cheek.
They stay only for a second before they disappear, an airy laugh landing in your ear a second later. “Please don’t run away now,” he says, tone of voice uncertain, telling you that now the ball is in your court– your next actions could either make him the happiest man on Earth, or completely break him. 
The choice is yours.
Your head turns his way, eyes instantly locking with his brown orbs searching for any signs of discomfort in your face. Slowly, as if still processing the events of before, your eyes trail over his features– the awfully handsome way his face was sculpted, the softness of his eyes and the sharpness of his jaw, the slope of his nose and the plushness of his lips. They’re not as chapped today, making you wonder if he started wearing vaseline, and before you get a chance to stop yourself, you start wondering of the way his lips would feel on yours, imagination running wild. 
He heaves out a shaky breath, your eyes darting back into his– as if to ask for approval, see if he’s okay with it. There’s a dazy look in them, gaze pressed to your lips, then to your eyes, then your lips again– a look you take as an invitation as you act against all your best judgment and lean towards him, pressing your mouth against his.
As if testing the waters, you make the kiss short. It was long enough to engrave it into your brain, though– to remember the way his perfectly shaped lips pressed against yours, the way the world stopped just for a moment, the way he tasted of the strawberry mints he always eats at work whenever he has nothing to do. 
Sunwoo seems to find liking in the action– lips glazing yours again, pressing another peck to them before he deepens the kiss, the tingling in your fingertips intensifying and the excitement bubbling in your frame making you turn in your position, front facing him and pressing up against his chest. His hands quickly adjust, slipping under your opened jacket and settling on your clothed waist, the slightest contact making your knees weak and settle your bottom against the table behind you, hands grabbing the fabric of his sweatshirt. 
He pulls back to catch some air, a boyish grin breaking out on his face, forehead knocking against yours in a sweet, giddy manner. “I’ve wanted to do this for months,” he huffs.
The sentiment makes a thousand question marks appear in your head– why did he make your life a living hell, then? Why did he pull pranks on you and make you hate every second spent with him? Why did he make you so furious each time and argued with you about the smallest things? How could Sunwoo possibly have wanted this for months, when you just only started noticing his attractiveness a few weeks ago?
“Why–”
“I’ll tell you later,” he says, cutting you off as he presses his lips against yours again, your mouth automatically welcoming his presence. Brain erased of all previous questions, his kisses working like a spell, you focus all your senses on the man in front of you.
Having your hands feeling up his abdomen, Sunwoo hesitantly asks for entrance with his tongue, running it along your lower lip until you welcome him in. You like this type of power battle much more than the one you had going on until now, and with each new movement, you feel yourself falling apart under him. 
His fingers tug down on the sides of your jacket, pulling it down. You don’t need it anymore– with how heated you’ve gotten, you are actually kind of happy that it is gone. One of his cold hands sneaks under the hem of your jumper, fingertips trailing up and down your side, the other one tugs down the hat from your head, discarding it somewhere on the table behind you before it finds its place on the side of your jaw, angling your head in a way that allows him to deepen the kiss even more, the contact of your lips growing firmer as seconds go by. 
Your scarf is swiftly untangled off your neck, Sunwoo’s skilled lips blindly trailing down the side of your mouth towards your jaw, feathery kisses ticking you before he gets more bold and sucks on the side of your throat, a shaky breath shyly escaping your lips.
“Sunwoo…” you say, tone of voice not really present, no real intention behind the call of his name.
The boy hums against your neck, having you gasp again when he lightly bites the softness of your skin, your hands shooting up to tangle in his hair when he licks the spot to soothe it after. Threading your fingers through his locks to ground yourself, you can’t believe you ever hoped for him to get a trim.
His hands firmly hold the underside of your thighs before he hoists you up on the table, continuing his confident attack on your neck when you’re sitting comfortably on the hard surface. It’s not like you didn’t feel excited, the tiniest bit thrilled at the mental image of his possessive marks all over your throat, but you were glad it was freezing outside and you could wear a turtleneck to hide the bruises from your family tomorrow. He nuzzles his nose into the hot skin of your neck, the action making you grin in ecstasy and endearment.
Getting lost in the way he was handling you, his touches firm, yet delicate, acted out in a way that makes you feel safe and comfortable with his passionate ministrations, you almost don’t notice the door swinging open, the figure of your boss like striking like the lightning in the doorway of the screening room.
“Sunwoo!”
The boy jumps, his body quickly ungluing itself off yours, as he listens to his father scolding him. “I don’t care what you two have going on over here, but you’re on clock! There’s a line waiting for the tickets for tomorrow’s movie and someone has to sell them right now.”
The boy clears his throat, voice a little hoarse. “Coming,” he says, trying to keep his composure. His hair’s a little tousled, cheeks rosy and lips puffed– the image that will haunt you in your sweetest nightmares now– and before you get a chance to say anything or let your brain process the events of the last few minutes, your panic works faster, making you act.
Quickly scattering for your things, you run out of the projecting room without saying goodbye to either Sunwoo or your boss, never once looking back.
You think of what you’ve done on your way home, bones freezing now that they weren’t in his presence. You try hard to regret your actions, but you don’t find it in you to do so– it’s kind of hard with the feeling of his lips still playing with yours.
Even though you’d hate to admit it just a few weeks ago, you must do it now. 
Kim Sunwoo does make a really good kisser.
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TONIGHT’S PREMIERE – PRIDE AND PREJUDICE (2005)
There are many thoughts swimming around your brain as you walk through the coldness of the town the next day, your duffel bag hanging off your shoulder. There’s a conflict between the actions of your body and your thoughts – feet on their journey to the train station, but head stuck in the small projection room of your workplace, your coworker’s kisses occupying your every sober thought.
It’s not surprising, but you haven't heard from Sunwoo since you left the cinema last night. Not a single text or a call– but you figure that this is just your dynamic. Sunwoo’s never been much of a texter when it came to you. He’s never had the reason to text or call you, unless it was work-related, and you think it will stay that way, even though you did make out with him just last night.
Maybe he regretted it. Maybe he just didn’t feel like pondering on the events any longer– maybe it was just a one-time thing for him and he didn’t put much significance to it. You wouldn’t know– it’s not like you’re suddenly an expert on the way he feels and operates. 
You, though? How do you feel about the turn of events? Despite not wanting to admit it to yourself, the answer came to you the second you tried to fall asleep last night, every soaring thought in your brain showing you the reflection of his dazed look, desires of wanting him to look at you that way all the time oh so skilfully infesting themselves into every crevice of your neocortex. You want Sunwoo to like you. You want Sunwoo to want you. You want Sunwoo to be so enchanted with your existence that he thinks about you before he goes to sleep at night– just like you have done for the past few weeks. 
The answer comes to you again when you feel something wet fall on the top of your cheek, making you turn your eyes towards the sky. Your breathing comes out in puffs of air as you watch the magic happen right in front of you– and as you watch the snowflakes scatter all around the place, you are in another inner argument. While the rational side of your brain is screaming at you to keep walking to the station so you don’t miss your train home, the delirious side is cooperating with your feet for once, your figure crossing to the other side of the street and walking over to the place you could get to even with your eyes closed at this point; all because you suddenly remember the conversation you had with Sunwoo when you were putting on ornaments to the Christmas tree.
It’s the first snow of the season. 
Kim Sunwoo loves it when it snows.
Speed-walking towards the vintage movie theater at the corner of the town’s square, you feel something akin to childish excitement bubbling in your insides, a hint of nervousness inviting itself into your insides when you push the door open and aim straight towards the ticket booth, where you know Sunwoo will be sitting, wasting another shift away.
He’s there– eyes pressed towards the window, gaze following the snowflakes kissing the cold ground. You expected more excitement in his character, more childlike joy in his figure– and after taking in his composure: shoulders slouching and fingers picking at the skin of his cuticles, you suddenly feel silly for coming.
Well, here goes nothing, you think.
“Sunwoo,” you call, making the boy snap his head towards you in surprise, big eyes meeting yours the moment he recognises your voice.
You don’t receive a verbal response for a while. The boy just stares at you, a bit hesitant and clueless. His face reminds you of a small puppy trying to take in the new situation in front of it. His lips are formed into a small pout, gears in his brain turning and trying to process the reality of having you standing there, face beaten from the cold.
Clearing your throat, you try to take charge of the situation. “It’s snowing outside,” you say, eyes peering out of the window, all thoughts suddenly escaping your brain, words blanking off your tongue, “and, well… you said you like the snow, so…”
The boy’s mouth hangs agape, a twinkle in his eyes slowly appearing once again when he stares at you, your nervousness doing wonders to your conversation skills. “I- I don’t even know what I wanted to say with that, it’s just- I don’t know… I saw it was snowing and I automatically came here, so-” you stutter, the sentence cutting off as Sunwoo jumps to his feet and grins, wordlessly taking your hand into his and dragging you outside.
The duffel bag falls off your shoulder somewhere in the middle of the hall, discarded to the floor, before Sunwoo sharply halts in his steps and runs back towards the ticket booth, still dragging you with him by the hand. The boy grabs something off the table, the item not visible in your rear point of view, and before you have a chance to register what’s happening, you’re outside of the building again, coldness instantly slapping you in the face.
It’s dark out, but the heaviness of the snow provides enough light in the silent evening for you to see where you’re going under the yellow lampposts on the street. Instantly noticing the lack of Sunwoo’s warm hand in yours when he suddenly lets go, you turn your head to look at the male.
Terror fills your veins when you notice him gathering snow from the ground and pressing it into a tight ball, a screech escaping your throat when you watch him swing it at you, a playful, boyish grin playing with his features. The male chases you around and most of the snowballs don't even hit your running figure (he does have an awful aim), but you still duck anyway and try your hardest to win your snowball fight.
Numb fingers creating snowballs and halting them at his tall frame, but missing most of the time due to his fast reflexes, you laugh and let go of all the worries and questions clouding your judgment. Sunwoo looks enthusiastic, so much more lively than when you found him in the ticket booth just a few minutes ago– but that’s still not enough for you to let him win.
Gathering the icy texture into your hands, you run towards him, taking advantage of his inattention as he’s bent over and taking more snow into his hold, and halt the whiteness into his face just as he straightens his back and wants to prepare for his attack.
More laughter bubbles out of your chest when you watch him drop his snowball to the ground, admitting defeat. The snow is all over his face– slowly running down his cheeks like teardrops, redness tinting his nose and the sides of his face. 
The male shudders from the cold, and you instantly start feeling bad. Only now you realize that he ran out without a coat, a gasp escaping your throat. “Oh god,” you mourn, hands flying towards his frozen face to wipe off the snow from his cheeks, fingers carefully tracing over his cold skin. His eyes open as he watches you, something in his gaze so tender you feel yourself melting even in the middle of the snowstorm.
The male shuffles his hands into the front pocket of his gray hoodie, taking out the item you now recognise to be the hat you accidentally forgot in the projecting room yesterday (and already mentally paid goodbye to), his frozen fingers tugging the fabric onto your head. 
“Why are you putting this on me? You’re the one that’s freezing over here!” you scold him, shaking your head at the male. 
He rewards you with an amused grin, watching your next moves. Acting on auto-pilot, not really putting much thought into your actions, you unzip your jacket and step impossibly near to the male. Holding the jacket open, you hug him around his middle, making sure you are sharing the warmth with him and keeping him as close as possible, shielding him from the cold with both the fabric of your puffer jacket and the heat radiating off your body.
Faces just inches away from each other, you peer at his face. He wears a warm expression, eyes peeking out from behind his dark bangs. Clouds of breath escape his mouth when he speaks, voice quiet, as if to not ruin the atmosphere. “I thought you would regret it,” he says, making you break out into a foolish smile.
“I thought so too,” you nod.
“And you don’t?”
Shrugging, you reply. “Not really.”
“Why?” he asks, suddenly doubtful. “You said you hated me. Which was odd to hear, honestly, since I did all this to get your attention anyway and I thought it was just how our dynamic works, but… I could see how it could be annoying to you…”
Chuckling, you roll your eyes at the sudden revelation. It’s sickeningly sweet how endearing he looks when he doubts himself, explaining himself to you in a nervous blabber. “I don’t hate you. At least not anymore.”
“You don’t?”
“No,” you shake your head, a tender gaze shared between the two of you, “I actually quite like you, I think…” you mumble, a little bashful to admit it out loud.
“You do?” he asks, the twinkle in his eye glimmering twice as much as ever before, tone of voice playful, yet laced with honest joy and surprise at your confession.
“I do,” you nod, voice barely louder than a whisper as you watch him lean closer towards your face, cold nose bumping into yours before he angles his head, breath mixing in with yours in the few seconds before he dares to kiss you again, capturing your lips with his.
The kiss is sweet. The kiss tastes of strawberry mints and the first snow, of unsaid confessions and longing looks sent your way every time you weren’t looking. The kiss makes your stomach fill with a thousand little butterflies, it melts away the ice around you, the two of you like a spark of a fire in the middle of a snowy land. 
His actions have your composure faltering, hands untangling from behind him and moving up to cradle his face. He melts under your touch, leaning into you as your fingers trail over his cheekbones. Holding on to him, thumbs padding his soft skin, you’re reminded of the cold only when he breaks off you and shudders again, teeth clattering from the freezing temperature.
“Let’s get you inside,” you say, planting a short peck to his lips, “before you turn into an icicle,” you giggle, watching as he scrunches up his face.
“I won’t,” he shakes his head, “love warms me up,” he grins, making you roll your eyes at his bold statement.
“You’re so cheesy.”
“But you quite like me anyways, no?”
Sighing, moving away from him and tugging him back inside the cinema, you shake your head at the boy. “I’ll think about it on my train home,” you bite back, opening the door to the theater and aiming towards the duffel bag you dropped on your way out.
Sunwoo watches you with a warm gaze, an adorable smile playing with his lips. His figure seems to be visibly taking in the heat again, his face adorning a flush, pink color. 
“So I take it as you’re not quitting anymore, then?” he teases as you walk back to the door, both of you ignoring the customers waiting for their tickets in the line in front of the forgotten booth.
“We’ll see,” you shrug.
“I’ll text you the schedule for January?”
“You better text me about something else too, Kim Sunwoo,” you bark back, opening the door towards the cold landscape, “or you’re gonna have a very uncomfortable return back to work in January!”
The boy laughs, the noise like a Christmas carol to your ears. “Noted.”
Slipping outside, you watch as he waves at you goodbye, your feet dragging through the snow towards the train station having more pep to their step now. You don’t even know if you can make it to the train on time, but you surprisingly have no regrets– you can always catch the next one, right?
Mentally wanting to slap yourself for the lovesick grin playing with your lips, you sigh. 
The male that once made your life a living hell is now the one you look forward to seeing the most once you come back after Christmas break. It’s kind of strange, really. 
One would think that working with movies on the daily would prepare you better for the biggest plot twist of your life.
1K notes · View notes
cupid-styles · 2 months
Note
A little idea of a scene for hockeyxballerina: even before they start having a thing they end up in a heated kiss with him pressing her against a wall, car, bookshelf of whatever whi his hamd on her throat and her brain his so foggy she lets him spit on her mouth but the she comes to hers senses and runs away without a word, not even an insult because she is so shocked with what she did
🤭🤭🤭🤭🤭
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word count: 1.6k
content warnings: smut (hehe finally!!!) (spitting, public play, dirty talk, degradation)
hockey!h x ballerina!yn masterlist
main masterlist
. . .
There must be something clinically wrong with Y/N tonight.
Well, maybe not just tonight. Maybe... maybe, that "something wrong" has been creeping up her body and spreading from her stomach out to her chest and center over the duration of a past few weeks. Maybe she expected it go away after a day or two, because why wouldn't it?
Harry Styles is his worst nightmare. Her moral enemy. Her fiercest competitor.
So why the fuck does she think he looks good enough to swallow whole tonight?
He walked in with a crowd of his hockey buddies an hour or so after Y/N, Lea, Rena, and Mai had arrived. Per the pre-game hosted at Mai and Rena's place, she was already feeling a little buzzed when she got here. She was planning on taking it easy tonight — she was still diligently practicing for the spring showcase every day — but the second her eyes flitted over to the stupid backwards hat he wore and the flex of his jaw from the gum he chewed, she knew she needed more to get through the night.
And she's pleasantly tipsy when she makes a move to head to the bathroom. She hears her friends scold her for "breaking the seal," but she rolls her eyes and playfully flips them off in response. Her sneakers stick to the vodka-coated floors of the college bar as she pushes her way through the crowd, trying to make her way to the ladies' room without any tequila spillage on her top.
Harry Styles is an idiot, she thinks to herself as she walks, There's no way I could have a crush on him. What, just because he drove me home a few times and helped me when I hurt my ankle? That's stupid, he's stupid, and—
"Hey, you."
Her eyes dart up at the familiar deep voice and she wishes the ground would open up and take her right then and there. Did she somehow conjure Harry up with her thoughts? She's a little drunk, but there's no way she's that powerful.
Unless she is.
"I have to pee." she replies, pointing to the bathrooms behind his tall stature.
"Okay. Go pee, then."
She flashes a tight smile his way as she brushes past him. She thinks from the corner of her eye she sees him stand against the wall of the small hallway, crossing her arms over his chest. The last time they were in this area together, it was right after she slept with Malcolm (the stupid, prissy idiot from the opposing team who wouldn't even smack her ass). At this point, it's been months since Harry lowly waxed poetic in her ear about how he could make all her degrading dreams come true.
The memory makes her shudder as she washes her hands.
Y/N's suspicious are proved right when she exits the bathroom to see Harry still standing there. She's prepared to ignore him and walk straight past him until he reaches out to grasp her wrist, gently pulling her back. She yelps, a tipsy, unattractive sound, and it makes Harry's eyes crease with laughter.
"You good?" he asks. Y/N's vision darts down to the gum he's chewing between his teeth and she swallows.
"Yeah. Why wouldn't I be?"
Harry shrugs. "Just making sure you're not too drunk."
"I have a dress rehearsal this weekend," she replies with a shake of her head. "I just came out to see the girls."
"And me." He points out cheekily, making her roll her eyes.
"I didn't even know you'd be here tonight, Harry."
"It's one of three bars in town and all the athletes come here."
He's right about that, and she knows he could double down by pointing out the obvious, too — that this is the only bar their friend groups ever frequent, and the hockey team rarely misses a Friday night out.
Luckily, he spares her the embarrassment.
"We have a game tomorrow night," he continues, "Will you come?"
"Why would I do that?"
"School spirit. Duh."
Y/N scoffs at that and shakes her head. She focuses her eyesight on anything but the cocky, beautiful, stupid man in front of her.
"I'm practicing all day. I'll be in an ice bath before your game even starts."
"Hot," he smirks. Y/N's stomach flutters.
"Stop being a douche. I thought we were past this."
"We are!" Harry exclaims, lifting his hands up in surrender. She only now realizes that he'd had his fingers looped around her wrist that entire time. "I'm just saying, you're hot."
"You must be more fucked up than I thought," Y/N guffaws.
"If I was fucked up, I'd be trying to sleep with you right now."
The words fly from her lips before she can even stop them: "And that's not what you're doing?"
She doesn't know if she says it because she wants to call him out on his bluff or she's feeling the confidence — and lust — from her the drinks she consumed tonight. But she doesn't take it back. And she certainly doesn't walk away as she watches Harry's head cock slightly to the side. His expression almost seems as if he's... impressed, in some way. The smirk on his lips makes her ball her fists at her side.
"You would know if I was trying to fuck you, Y/N."
She swallows. It's warm — she's suddenly so warm right now as she realizes their chests are nearly pressed against one another. The height difference between them makes it so her breasts are below his pecs, but she still feels the expanse of muscles through the layers of their clothing.
"I doubt that," she mutters, and he clenches his jaw. It's almost hypnotizing to watch. "I really think—"
"I think you should shut up now."
In a moment, his hand is spread over her hip and they've swapped places; her back now pressed firmly up against the wall. His tall form all but blocks any onlookers from seeing who he has cornered, but he couldn't forget it even if he wanted to. Not when he's been dreaming of this for weeks.
And really, he wouldn't do it if he didn't have some sort of prior knowledge about her hookup with Malcolm — the fact that she's somehow just depraved as him.
So he wedges his gum to the back of his molars, utters out the words, "open your mouth", and gathers up the spit behind his lips. His length immediately thickens in his pants when she sticks her tongue out. And then he spits in her mouth.
She whimpers instantly at the feeling but it's drowned out by his own groan. It's filthy and demeaning, but he can see it in her eyes how much she loves it.
"Looks so good," he mumbles, thumbing at a bit at the side of her mouth before pushing it in. "Swallow."
She does.
"You're well-behaved for a brat," he notes as he gives her hip a squeeze. She hums, eyes flickering when his hand lifts her shirt up slightly, fingertips trailing over the smooth skin of her stomach. "Did you want a prize, puppy?"
With hazy eyes, she nods.
He smirks, almost immediately stuffing his hand down her jeans. She gasps when he finds the sodden fabric of her underwear, eliciting a low chuckle from his chest.
"All this just for some spit? Maybe you're nastier than I thought."
She wishes she could reply back with something snarky but she can’t, not when he begins to roll her clit beneath his fingertips. Her eyes flutter shut as he applies a bit more pressure, pausing momentarily to collect some of the wetness accumulating at her whimpering hole.
“Finally let me play with this pretty pussy, hm?” he says mockingly, “Maybe one day you’ll let me stretch it out, too. Might take awhile for it to fit, though— I know you’ve never been with someone as big as me.”
“Shut up,” she mumbles breathily. He laughs and squeezes her clit between two of his fingers. She gasps, barely offering enough recovery time before he’s back to rubbing circles.
“What, you really think you could take my cock, sweetheart? You can barely take one of my fingers. Gonna have to train you for months, but I think you’d like that.”
“Harry—“
“I know,” he coos condescendingly as he speeds up the movements of his fingers. “You’re such a stubborn brat you’d just want me to stuff you full on the first try. Feel me in your fuckin’ stomach.”
“‘m gonna cum,” she mewls, reaching out to dig her fingernails into his chest. He hisses from the small bite of pain. “Don’t stop, please, I’m gonna cum—“
Harry wouldn’t stop touching her even if he wanted to. Especially not as he watches her fall apart beneath his grasp, her knees almost buckling from the intensity of her orgasm. He feels her pussy clenching rapidly and he swallows harshly, the sight nearly being enough to make him come in his pants.
She’s quiet and shaky as her orgasm tapers off and Harry gently pulls his hand from her pants. He helps adjust her jeans back up and over her hips, her eyes flickering up to his face.
“Oh my god,” she mutters, her eyes widening as if she’s just realized what she’s done. “Oh my god, what the fuck?”
“What?” Harry asks through furrowed brows. He’s expecting some sort of nervous response about accidentally abandoning her friends, but instead she shakes her head and lightly pushes him away.
“I can’t. This was— this was bad, so fucking stupid.” She mumbles to herself, keeping her arms stretched out in front of her so he can’t get closer. “Fuck, Harry.”
He’s left confused and nervous as she watches her leave the bar.
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moonbaetarot · 1 month
Text
Pick a pile
Random things about your future spouse
1. 2. 3.
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Pile 1
Your future spouse dates to marry they don’t go messing around with people they want their wife/husband and nothing else. Your person has been wanting to be married since they were a little kid their parents set a really go example of what love is. They could still be friends with people they met in elementary school and this is because They are really friendly and good communication. Your future spouse could love sending cute little text or writing love letters to you. This person could have a love for cars or has a really nice car they love. (They could also love cats because I kept typing cats instead of cars lol) They only do things that makes them feel good if anyone or anything makes them feel bad they are quick to cut them off. You and this person could’ve had a past life together you two are very much soulmates. Your future spouse likes change they get bored quick. Your person is one of a kind they bright up a room. Your future spouse believes everything is connected, everything happens for a reason and it’s all going to be ok so when you are unsure about something they are going to reassure you everything is alright. Oddly specific Someone future spouses name could be Ryan or you could know someone named Ryan. Your future spouse loves summer, the beach, the sun and summer food. Your spouse could be Leo, Gemini, Sagittarius, Taurus, Aquarius or Capricorn. Your future spouse could be a twin or is a lot like their dad. They love fishing going out on a boat. You or your future spouse dad likes to ride Motorcycles and or has a tattoo of a cross or angle wings Im getting a lot about someone’s dad here there dad was a big part of their life as a kid they really look up to them.
Thank you for reading loves! 🤍
Pile 2
Your future spouse is successful they have achieved a lot in their life I feel like some of there achievements there parents helped with they may come from money. They are a goal getting if they want something there are going to get it. There love language is gift giving They love buying you whatever you want I’m seeing you walking out the mall with bagssss baby lol (I’m seeing the pink and Victoria secret bags the pink ones with white dots, I know not everyone is going to know what I’m talking about but if you do then you know lol). This person has a loved one that passed away that watches them I feel that they were really close with them as a kid and now watch over them. Someone’s favorite number could be 17. You and this person may move in really quickly When you and this person meet things are going to be moving really quickly. Your future spouse could be a real estate agent sells house, designs house, builds houses or decorates homes something of the sort. Your person is traditional they want to provide for you. They have a good intuition they know how to use their higher power and skills. All this long hard work this person does will pay off. This person knows how to take an L they grow from failed situations they don’t let it get to them. Your future spouse is an hardworking boss man you just have to sit back and see their vision being with this person your not going to have to work if you dream of being a stay at home mom or don’t wanna work in general this person will let you and y’all will with be just fine money wise. I see people being jealous of you two because yall have it all. Your future spouse could have an unusual unique name.
Thank you for reading loves! 🤍
Pile 3
Your future spouse loves making memories with you I see you two being 80 and y’all’s grandchildren come over and your future spouse pulls out a huge box just of pictures of fun things and memories y’all did over the past decades. your person is at good at manifestating if they really put there mind to something it can become there reality. You and your future spouse may look alike they don’t look like your siblings or nothing lol but yall share the same features. They come from a big family and have a lot of siblings I feel like you may be an only child or only have 1 or 2 siblings tho. Someone’s future spouse is a red head or a ginger or you are. You and your future may meet after you are going through a breakup your going to be like 3 weeks or months post break up and your going to meet your future spouse and your going to be closed off for good reasons but your going to realize why this past relationship didn’t work. This person may struggle with a bit of anxiety. This person visits you in your dreams a lot I feel like even when you meet this person you’re going to have very detailed dreams about your future spouse. You or your spouse could be a water sign Pisces, cancer, Scorpio. They are in touch with their inner child they are really creative and just have a really innocent image of life. Your this person whole world this person loves you so much yall are bestfriends if there was a map of there heart of how much you fill up there heart it would be full (this is such a sweet strong message). Your future spouse may like rock music. You and this person could have a baby boy and girl together. This person is taller than you. Your person may wear glasses or contacts. You or your person may be a bit scared of commitment.
Thank you for reading loves! 🤍
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biteofcherry · 1 month
Text
Flood
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Bucky Barnes x female reader x Steve Rogers; Bucky Barnes x Steve Rogers
Little Worshipper Masterlist
Main Masterlist
summary: Waking up between Steve and Bucky may finally make your desperate dreams come true.
warnings: smut; consensual; D/s undertones; power imbalance; orgasm denial finally leading to permission; degradation; slight objectification; creampie; aftercare is included;
This is a follow-up to Soaked.
You voted for those two ruining you this weekend, so here you go.
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You rarely had trouble sleeping and being squeezed between two warm, solid bodies somehow deepened that state of bone-melting relaxation. Bucky and Steve worked better than a weighted blanket, even though neither of them laid on top of you. Their limbs were enough to make you feel anchored and protected. 
However, as blissful your sleep was, it was startled by your more active brain areas awaking.
And it was the supersoldiers’ fault, too.
Really, you couldn’t blame your mind from creating erotic images and rousing your unconscious body ready for what you desperately craved. 
You woke up just as your dream self was about to come (from having Bucky slap your clit, while Steve fucked your ass).
Darkness filled your vision as your eyes opened; it took a few long seconds for your eyes to adjust and notice contours. You hoped that your startled awakening didn’t stir anyone else from their sleep, but as your eyes met Bucky’s glinting gray-blue irises you realized it was too late to fake sleep. 
Your breath hitched as the lights very slowly filled the bedroom. Then Steve’s hand that’s been splayed on your hip traveled down your thigh. 
Bucky yanked the covers away, exposing your naked bodies. Steve gripped under your knee and forced your leg over his, spreading you open to their curious gaze. 
“So wet, starburst.” Steve’s voice was a velvety, soft caress, all the while his grip tightened when you instinctively tried to close your legs. “And we haven’t even touched you.”
“We were planning on it, you know,” Bucky reached out his hand and trailed a single digit along your collarbone and down over your breast. “On tormenting your sweet body while you slept. Getting you all nicely wet and needy.” 
“It seems your body already knows to prepare for us.” Steve hooks an ankle over your calf to keep your leg pinned as he moves his hand toward your pussy. “As a good little worshipper should.” 
When Steve’s fingers touched your slick folds, you couldn’t contain the gasp. Nor the way your hips rolled up, begging for more of the contact that has been denied to you for so long. 
They cooed at you in unison.
They moved coordinated, too.
Steve’s fingers spread your folds, tracing a line down and up, as Bucky flicked the pads of his fingers over your stiffening nipple. When Steve’s digit circled your clit, Bucky’s fingers moved to your other nipple, rubbing around it. 
They didn’t rush, but there was a steady increase of pressure and pace. They rolled you fully onto your back, with Steve still pinning your leg down. Bucky was pressed to your side, you felt the twitch of his dick against your thigh. 
Usually, you needed time with the foreplay, but somehow Bucky and Steve turned you into a writhing, pleading mess quickly. Perhaps it was the double teaming that overwhelmed your senses; or maybe the denial which kept you on the brink for so long. All it took was for Steve to draw a few eights across your clit and Bucky’s mouth to close around your nipple, and you were fisting the sheets and moaning. 
“Oh!” A high pitched keen bubbled on your lips as Steve slid a single finger inside you. 
“For someone so eager to take two supersoldiers, you’re very snug, starburst.” Steve angled his body, so that he could look down at your face as he pushed his finger in and out of your pussy. 
“I think it turns her on,” Bucky’s chuckle tickled your nipple, “that her tight holes will stretch around our cocks.” 
“She’s so tight, it’s going to feel like heaven.” Again, they talked to each other, speaking of you as if you were only a toy for them to use. To take whatever they gave you. 
Steve inserted a second finger and you nearly bowed in half from how good it felt. Your walls contracted and your breath turned ragged. 
You were so damn close. 
“Not yet,” Steve withdrew his fingers and you felt like bursting into tears.
Instead, you whined and kicked your free leg (since the other was trapped under Steve’s weight, as if he somehow predicted you’d be prone to kick him). 
Bucky grinned, sharing a knowing look with Steve above you. They both moved and for a split of a second you were terrified that they would just leave you all dripping and desperate. Again. But Bucky merely scooted back, while Steve knelt between your splayed legs. 
“Behave,” he admonished, tapping your puffy folds and the clit peeking from between them. 
“You’ll get to cum, no worries.” He dipped his fingers into your pussy, pumping them slowly a few times and then withdrawing. 
You watched, breath almost withheld, as he smeared your sticky juices along his hardened cock. That glorious, big cock, the sight of which had your walls clenching. 
“But you’ll be coming around me.”
Then he was pushing into you, angling his body forward, but not lying on top of you. His eyes held your gaze captive as he pushed the tip past the barrier of your hole. Your whole body tensed, heat filled you in a tsunami-intense wave, your toes curled. 
So much delicious torment. So much denial. And finally you were granted something you’ve been craving. That moment you realized it wasn’t even the orgasm that you wanted so much, but the ultimate intimate connection. 
Though your body definitely longed after that orgasm.
The men have strained you to that edge enough times that your body was primed to snatch it, before it disappears. Steve didn’t even fully sink in when the coil snapped.
Your own eyes widened in surprise as you cried out. Your cunt clenched tight, your muscles tensed. 
“Fuck, feels so good,” Steve goraned, his eyes not once leaving your face. 
“Looks fucking good, too.” Bucky moaned, stroking his length. His gaze swept back and forth between your face, the point where Steve’s dick was stretching your opening, and Steve’s face. 
Steve didn’t give you time to fall into that softly pliant, post-orgasmic state. He pressed in, shushing you as you made little mewling noises at the slight discomfort of his cock filling you more than you ever experienced. 
When he bottomed out, he slipped his hands beneath your buttocks and lifted your hips as he knelt up. Steve easily held your hips elevated; high enough your feet weren’t even touching the mattress anymore. You squeaked at the new position and the angle that allowed him to stay deep. 
“Now,” the corner of Steve’s mouth tugged upwards in a dangerous smirk, “let’s keep the needy worshipper cumming, since she claims to be so devoted.” 
Unexpectedly, Bucky was bending across your bowed body, his hot breath fanning the top of your mound as he leaned his head down to where you and Steve were connected. 
Steve slowly withdrew. Then Bucky’s tongue flicked over your clit. 
“Oh God!” Your moan was choked.
“Gods, little worshipper.” Steve corrected, amused. 
Then he started moving, hard and deep. You had no idea how Bucky was able to keep at it, but his tongue was merciless on your swollen clit; every few thrusts switching to lick inches of Steve’s cock as he pulled out. 
They had you screaming your release twice, squeezing tears out of your eyes from the intensity of sensations. It was bliss, being allowed to come after denial, but it was also overwhelming. Especially with the way you had zero control of your own movement, being used like a ragdoll. 
Through glassy vision you watched Bucky kiss his way up Steve’s torso; he bit lightly into Steve’s neck before capturing his mouth in an imperfect, hot kiss. Through the haze of your own blood pounding in your head and the sounds of slapping skin and your squelching pussy, you heard an awed “You look good together. You taste good together, too.” 
Bucky settled down beside you, bending down to nibble on your lips playfully. The way you panted into his mouth, your tongue shyly meeting his, seemed to please Bucky greatly. 
He traced a line down your arm and gently unclenched your fingers from around the crumbled sheet. Guided your hand to his hard cock, wordlessly showing you how to stroke him. He pushed two of his fingers between your open lips then rubbed your own saliva over your nipples. 
“Seems you like taking it, starburst,” Bucky hummed, tweaking your peaks. “Just being a good, obedient worshipper and taking whatever you’re given.” He pinched your nipple. “Say it.”
“I- I like it,” you complied, trying hard not to lose focus on how to move your fist over Bucky’s dick.
“Good girl.” Steve praised, gently lowering your ass to the mattress. 
“Good little worshipper, serving her gods-” he didn’t slip out, keeping his cock buried in your fluttering pussy as he settled his weight on top of you- “spreading for us like a perfect, eager vessel for our cum.” 
You moaned at that; a pinch of weak protest, but mostly a sound of pleasure from combined stimulation. Being filled and fucked, being used, being made to give Bucky pleasure, all the while being addressed as an object. 
“You think she’ll like being filled?” Bucky withdrew his hand from between your bodies as Steve’s chest crushed your boobs. 
“I think she’ll love it,” came Steve’s sure reply. At your glazed over gaze staring up at him in devotion, he chuckled darkly: “She loves being our cumdump.” 
Was it the spot Steve hit mercilessly as he fucked you, or the degrading words, but your body shattered in another orgasm. Much to their satisfaction.
“That’s it, starburst.” Steve’s breath turned ragged, hips slamming into yours in rough strokes. “Open up for my cum. No need to be shy about it. A worshipper is allowed to take pleasure from being used and filled.”
You spluttered incoherent noises; a staccato of whimpers as Steve sped up, chasing his release. A long, strained groan combined with your gasps as you felt the warmth of Steve’s spend spilling inside of you. 
Your cunt squeezed his throbbing cock - eagerly, as they predicted. 
Steve’s large hand framed your face; thumb and forefinger squeezing your cheeks slightly. His own face was flushed as he stared down at you; a strand of silky hair fell across his forehead.
“Thank me for filling you with my cum.” 
“Thank you for fucking me and filling me with your cum.” Despite your voice quivering, you were quick to follow his command. “Thank you for making me come.” You added hastily, too. 
Steve huffed a laugh; dark sternness of his features melting away, forming crinkles around his eyes. He leaned down, brushing his lips against yours. He kissed you slowly and almost tenderly, reinstalling that emotional connection. 
He was still gripping your cheeks when he ended the kiss and he used that hold to force your head to turn to the side. Your gaze immediately landed on Bucky’s cock and your hand still wrapped around it. 
“That’s right, little worshipper,” Bucky intoned almost menacingly, “you’re not yet done serving.”
He made you squeeze your hand tighter and speed your moves, then knocked your hand away. That’s when Steve slowly pulled out of you, a thick trickle of his cum leaking out of you in his wake. He sat back, leaning against the headboard and watching Bucky settle between your spread legs. 
Bucky’s gaze dragged from your face down your body. His eyes darkened and he licked his lips hungrily as he watched the white streak of cum seeping out of your pussy. He fisted his own cock, giving it a few more jerks as he stared at the mess of you.
“Do you know what will happen now?” Bucky lifted his eyes to your face.
“You’ll fuck me?” You asked hesitantly, though you sensed that it was more of you hoping than what was actually going to happen. 
Bucky flashed you a wolfish grin.
“No, starburst.” He shook his head. He bent your legs and pressed them against your chest, his hips pressing into your ass. 
“Now, I will fill my cumdump.” 
With that, he thrust his cock into your tight cunt. You were so hot and snug. And so fucking creamy. It was a dizzying sensation Bucky couldn’t compare to anything else. He cursed under his breath as he felt the mixture of your juices and copious amounts of Steve’s cum. 
Your eyes widened as you felt the hot spill of seed filling you. Bucky really didn’t need to fuck into you to reach his climax. 
That he simply used you as a vessel for his release had your post-orgasm softened nipples stiffen into hard peaks anew. The jolt of arousal shot straight to your clit, too. 
“Fuuuck!” Bucky groaned; his face contorted in pleasure, eyes closed. 
He stayed buried inside your pussy as his cock throbbed in last spurts. 
When he opened his eyes, amazement shone in his blue irises. He looked at Steve, some silent but meaningful understanding passing between the two of them. Then his gaze returned to you, just as soft and full of feeling.
Bucky stroked one of your calves and kissed your ankle. 
“You’re a perfect cumdump, starburst. A delightful little worshipper. We’re so damn lucky to have found you.” 
“She found us, if we’re being precise.” Steve chimed in. 
A few minutes later - after both Steve and Bucky had their fill of staring at your messy pussy and making a few more comments that were arousing you in a twisted way - Bucky carried you to the bathroom and into a bath. He didn’t join you in it, but was there beside you, tenderly cleaning you up. 
When you exited, the sheets on the bed had all been replaced with a fresh set and Steve was already halfway through making breakfast. They insisted on you sitting at the small, round dining table, wrapped in a blanket and being served food and tea. 
As you held the warm mug in both of your hands, sipping steaming brew slowly and watching Bucky and Steve move around the kitchen, you realized you didn’t feel any awkwardness or shame, which would be expected considering how they defiled you. 
They exchanged small smiles and sweet kisses between each other, but also with you. A brush of fingers on your shoulder when Steve brought you tea; Bucky pulling your feet to rest in his lap while he sat in the other chair at the table. They kept you included, as if it was most natural. 
For the first time in a very long time you felt wanted and cared for. 
And yeah, thoroughly used. In the best way. 
548 notes · View notes
oneforthemunny · 1 month
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light my morning sky |rockstar!eddie munson x nepo baby!reader|
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prompt: three wedding ceremonies, and it's stop number two in vegas. a night with your friends, celebrating you the way both of you love, and it leads to a rather intense wedding night for the two of you in sin city.
contains: minors dni. smut. fluff but mainly smut. drugs and alcohol, overall just partying in vegas. getting married in vegas. dom!eddie x sub!reader. bratty overtones to sub!reader. more of a soft!dom with rockstar!eddie bc he's in loooveeeee. spanking with implement (paddle/crop). thigh riding kinda. crawling. pinvsex. language. nothing too harsh or mean bc it's their (second) wedding night lol.
"I now pronounce you married." Elvis, or one of his many replicas on the strip, rasped in his low, exaggerated drawl mimicking the beloved singer. His hair perfectly coiffed, sideburns trimmed, and dressed in a black jumpsuit with wings, red and gold sequins trim.
Flamboyant, over the top- it was Eddie's dream.
Eddie grinned at you, his hands in yours, thumb brushing over the large stone on your left hand. He looked like The King himself in his white tasseled suit, pointed collar, and blue beading down the deep V of his shirt- an identical suit made to look exactly like Elvis' infamous jumpsuit from his time in Las Vegas in the 70's. It had been a prop in some show your father was producing, one that you and Eddie borrowed after the wedding.
"Eddie, you may now kiss your little darlin' here." The officiant grinned, stepping back towards the faux-rose garland, strung with bright lights.
Your heart swelled in your chest, just as light and giddy as the first ceremony, letting Eddie cup your face, pulling you in to seal with a kiss, far more passionate and needy than the ceremony in California.
Cheers erupted from the small crowd of friends you'd rallied for the big day- well, the second big day. Their booze soaked giggles and screeches mashed to the tune of Can't Help Falling In Love pouring out of the static filled old speakers. Flashes blinded your vision, even behind your closed eyes, camera clicks and bright snaps of camera light capturing every moment.
For a moment, you tensed, aware of your rounded shoulders, of Eddie's hand grabbing at your ass, eyes opening and cutting towards the aisle. Jonathan stood there, face hidden by the camera. Eddie had insisted his friend from Hawkins come instead, replace the snooty photographer that had done the ceremony before. Your parents had raved about him, but Eddie didn't see what the big deal was with him. He just made you both look so stiff, so unnatural in your portraits.
Eddie's hand slid up the silk material of your tiny dress, gripped onto your hip, bunching the material. You could feel his wedding band in the small of your back when he pressed his hand there, steadying you before he tipped you back. A deep dip of a kiss, your thigh hiked around his hip.
The small bouquet of white roses you'd bought at the front of the chapel fell onto the patterned carpet, your friends' screeching and whooping laughs ignited by the dramatics. They expected nothing less from Eddie- from both of you.
"Lord have mercy," The officiant laughed, fanning himself dramatically, long metallic sleeves rippling. "These two have lots of hunk-a, hunk-a burnin' love, don't they folks?"
Eddie could feel your lips twitch against his, a snort of a giggle, hot air blowing against his lip. His dopey and dimpled grin met you when you finally pulled apart. It left you weak, blistering in his intense, love filled gaze.
A pop of Perignon filled the room, Gareth and Farrah bumbling closer with two glasses, trying to stop the excess spilling over. A celebratory toast to the two of you, to keep your buzz going after the break in the bender you took for the ceremony.
Since you'd landed on Thursday night, the party hadn't stopped. Liquor flowing, loud music, sloppily piling into a stall with your own friends, taking bumps off your room keys before stumbling back to the club in your designer shoes, ready to keep the party going.
The afterparty was no different. Tucked away in a private villa at Ceasar's, you didn't make it to the club. Eddie had insisted he had to go first, nearly pushing Jeff over to get to the door, scooping you up in his arms and walking you through the door.
"Watch your fuckin' head, baby- don't lean back." You could smell the alcohol on his breath, a pungent mixture of too many to name, mixed with the faintest whiff of smoke from his cigarettes.
It didn't take long for Nick to find the boom box, blaring his party mixtape at a wall shaking volume, everyone scattering. Some to the kitchen to scour through the piles of empty bottles for a full one, others to collapse into the couch and let someone line up a pick me up before plunging in the hot tub outside.
"You," Eddie slurred, his head dipping down to press against your forehead. "Look so fuckin' beautiful." Nose brushing against yours, red from his own party favors.
You giggled nasally, blinking blearily eyed to focus on him to close to you. The effects of the tequila and champagne and hodge podge of liquor you'd mixed and consumed catching up with you.
"You know what, baby? You look really good, Mr. Munson." You whispered, hand cupping his jaw. "Like- hic!- too good to be fucking true."
"You're sweet talkin' me? Huh? Bein' s'nice to me?" Eddie grinned, fingers sinking into your hips.
"Yeah." You hummed.
"Tryna get my pants off or somethin', huh, baby? G-Get in my pants by bein' so sweet? You think that's gonna work?" Eddie teased, tilting his head to the side.
"Yeahhh..." You nodded, staggering against him, manicured nails raking down his bare chest. "We have to- to consummate the marriage, Ed."
"What?" Eddie furrowed his brows. "We gotta do what? Wait- I thought you wanted to fuck."
You laughed, head tilting back letting out that mean little cackle that always got Eddie worked up- a little mocking, mostly genuine. It left him flushed in heat, crawling up his chest and splattering over his cheeks.
"You dumbass, that is what that means." You rolled your eyes at him.
Eddie's eyes narrowed with you, catching your chin easily. "Oh? That's how you wanna play tonight, hm?" He shook his head, your body erupting in a fiery heat. "You're not gonna be nice to me?"
"I'm always nice to you." You countered, hand closing around his wrist gently, steadying yourself. "You're the one who's mean."
"Yeah?" Eddie grinned, eyes shining, glimmering in the low light of the room, the music from the other side thudding in a low roar, still shaking the walls. "You want me to be mean to you tonight? That's how you wanna do this?"
"Yeah." You sighed, a devious little grin that had Eddie's heart swelling, body buzzing with bouts of electricity. A shock to his system that brought him into something animalistic and primal and thrilling. Something new he only felt with you.
"I was hopin' you'd want to. Figured you would. Went ahead and got you a little somethin'." Eddie hummed, pulling you close into him. His breath hot on your cheek, booze soaked and warm on your skin.
"A gift?" Your eyes lit up, bright and devious all at once. Positively troublesome.
"Yeah. A gift. Just for you, baby." Eddie's lip dragged over your cheek, nose, hands sliding up your neck into your hair. "A wedding gift, but-but not for the wedding. For the after."
"Mm," You moaned lightly, his lips brushing with yours, teasing. Just enough to make you want to kiss him fully, leave you waiting and wanting more. "It's after now, Ed." You batted your lashes up at him.
"Is it?" Eddie muttered, fingers curling around your hair the back of your head.
"Yeah." You whispered, voice raspy from the liquor. "Time to give me my gift."
"Ooh, you're gonna be demanding?" Eddie pulled back from you, holding you at arms length so he could see you. Your pout, glassy eyes rounding instinctively- a classic look, teetering on demanding and begging, a signature look for you.
"'M not being demanding." You huffed, hands sliding over his arms. He could feel the diamonds of your wedding band scratch lightly over his skin. "You said you had a gift for me."
Eddie bit back a smirk, squeezing your shoulders with firm, gentle affection. You grinned triumphantly when he stumbled to his closet, puling a red gift bag tied together with a gold bow.
He smirked at your squeal of delight, hands clapping together excitedly when he gave you the bag. "What is it?" You beamed, a peal of excited, drunken giggles spilling from your chest.
"Open it." Eddie clicked, shaking his head at you. "What's in it- open the damn thing, baby. It's a present. 'M not tellin' you w-what I got you." His words slurred, still silly and playful.
You laughed, head spinning and intoxicatingly airy with glee, unraveling the gold spun ribbon with a dramatic tug of your hand. Underneath the piles of tissue paper, a long box lied at the bottom.
There, inside the felt lined box, a small heart shaped paddled. Black and leather, with a black, metal handle. It was small, smaller than most of Eddie's chosen paddles. The heart shape at the end firmer than the crop, not as flimsy as you expected.
"Look," Eddie pointed, swaying gently in front of you. He turned the handle clumsily around his hands before he turned it to you. There in etched gold, your names and the date carved into the metal handle.
"Ed." You cooed, head tilting back to meet his gaze. "You got this f'me?"
"Well, kinda." Eddie nodded. "I mean, for me to use on you, but yeah. Wanted something to-to remember this by."
Lips pulling in a smile, you stood, arms wrapping around his waist, pulling him flush to your own chest. "You're so sweet." You hum, swaying with him softly. "So sweet to me."
Eddie's cheeks flushed, matching the drunken red heat painted on his neck. "Yeah." He hummed, hands sliding over your cheeks, smearing your already rubbed off foundation, tilting your head back towards him.
"'M not gonna be sweet to you f'long." He muttered, lip twitching in a curling grin. Staticky prickles of excitement licked at your neck, shimmering all the way down to your core. Eddie's tongue ran over his teeth, brow raising. "That alright with you, baby?"
"Yes." You whispered, nails digging into his hands lightly, steadying yourself.
Eddie caught your chin, pulling your gaze towards him. "Who?" His tone dropped, low and raspy but punctuated.
The nervous, maybe excited, giggle spilled out of your lips before you could stop it. Eyes shining, swaying with excitement, you batted your lashes towards him. "Yes, Sir." You purred, hands sliding, nails raking down his forearms.
Eddie grinned, ducking down to catch your lips in a hungry kiss. Hand pressed to the small of your spine, you could taste the liquor on his tongue as it slid past your teeth. A sloppy, needy, alcohol fueled make out. Hands grabbing, pulling at the other, pushing your bodies closer and closer together until it felt like they might fuse together, mold into one. Hands sliding, bunching the material of your dress up your hips.
"Wait!" Your eyes flew open, pulling apart with an urgency that had Eddie jumping.
"What? What's wrong?" Eddie's brows furrowed, vision fading blearily in and out of focus.
"I forgot," You turned towards your suitcase. "I bought something special for tonight. S-Somethin' to put on." You muttered, swaying drunkenly, hands on his waist to steady yourself.
"Baby, it's alright. Just save it for tomorrow-"
"-No." Your tone was cutting, huffy with a hint of demanding- bratty. You did it best, Eddie supposed, his cock twitching at the sound.
He wanted to grab the paddle, haul you over his knee right then, feel you scratch and scream at him like old times. Instead, he let you stomp off, bunching a flash of white material to your chest, stumbling towards the bathroom.
It was worth it, Eddie decided. Legs spread on the edge of the bed, knee bouncing with anticipation until the doors opened.
"Are you ready?" He could hear your grin, hidden by the door.
"Yeah. Show me, baby. Come on out." Eddie's lips tugged in a half grin.
The door opened painfully slow, your own teasing reveal, until you stood before him in a tiny, white, see through lacy lingerie set. A classic, more scandalous and revealing than before. Bra and panties so revealing it left little to the imagination, hip hugging garter that connected to two leg holders, both with their own loops. Eddie pictured for a moment tying you up by them, stringing the rope through them, tying your legs wide open and spending the rest of the night- hell, the whole week in between them.
Maybe tomorrow night. Tonight, he had other plans.
Eddie's loud wolf whistle mixed with your bubbling giggles. "Holy shit, baby, look at you. No, look at me, but I wanna look at you." Eddie rasped, hands sliding over your exposed skin, rubbing the lace of your garter, pulling the tiny strap of your panties so it snapped to your skin.
"You like it?" You whispered, watching his eyes carefully. You knew he did. He always did.
"You kidding? Love it." Eddie grinned. "Worth the wait, beautiful."
Your cheeks burned with a rush of euphoric excitement, hands sliding up his shoulder, your ring sparkling even under the dim lights of the room.
"Ok, I'm ready now." You said boldly, lashes batting up to Eddie sweetly. "I just wanted to put this on for you."
"Oh? You're ready?" Eddie snorted lightly, lips curling in a smirk. "You callin' the shots?"
You huffed, an eye roll that had Eddie swallowing hard, trying to ignore the throbbing of his cock. "No," Your tongue clicked sarcastically. "Obviously you're in charge for right now."
"Oh, it's like that?" Eddie scoffed. "You're gonna act like that?"
"I'm not acting like anything, Ed." You bit your lip playfully. "I don't know what you're talking about." Oh, you were playful tonight. Eddie's heart swelled, palms twitching with excitement.
"Hm," Eddie hummed, tongue running down the inside of his cheek.
"Why don't you go get your gift." Eddie nodded towards the discarded paddle at the other end of the bed. You stepped towards it. "Nuh-uh-uh." Eddie clicked, head shaking.
"You know how you're supposed to get things for me." His eyes darkened, narrowing towards you.
Your thighs twitched, aching between them with a familiar heat. "Ed," Whiny and nasally, shoulders slumping for effect.
"You're gonna whine? C'mon, I know you know better." Eddie shook his head. "I don't wanna be mean to you tonight. Not too mean, anyways. Don't make me be mean. Go get your gift and bring it here, you know what to do. You be good for me, and I'll be good to you."
It didn't take much convincing, not when your head was spinning the way it was, desperate to please him. You knew he was true to his word, that he'd make you feel so good, which was exactly why you sunk to your knees. Crawling across the carpeted floors, you crept slowly towards the paddle.
Eddie watched through heavy lids, the sway of your hips, tiny panties riding up into your ass with every crawl. Your eyes met his when you raised up, gently grabbing the paddle off the bed. Eddie's heart lurched with excitement when you slipped it between your teeth, sinking back to your knees.
"Holy shit... Baby," Eddie groaned, leg shaking furiously when you rounded the corner of the bed, crawling straight for him. "Look at you. Jesus Christ, you know what you're doin'?"
You sunk back on your knees, settling between Eddie's open legs, eyes rounded so sweetly up at him it answered his question- you knew exactly what you were doing to him.
"'M just trying to be good." You whispered sweetly, head tilting to the side when he took to the paddle from you. "I just want to be so good for you always and forever, Mr. Munson."
Eddie thought he might snap the paddle in half, grip strangling in a tight hold around the pole. For a second, he contemplated again diving right between your legs, kinky foreplay be damned. Instead, he pulled you over his knee, let you straddle his thigh, covered cunt hot on his knee.
"Look at me." Eddie rasped, pulling your chin up, letting it rest on his chest, your body folded over his. "I wanna look at you. Wanna see you the whole time."
You pressed your lips together, swallowing back a pathetic whine. One hand cradling the back of your head, the other dragging the paddle along your exposed cheeks.
"You wanna be good for me?" Eddie whispered. You didn't reply, didn't get the chance to before the paddle snapped onto your ass. A jump, a whine, followed by Eddie's coaxing whisper back onto his knee.
"I asked you somethin', sweetheart." Eddie muttered, the crop tapping your other cheek. "You wanna be good for me?" Two sharp hits one to each cheek had you hissing.
"Yes." You hissed through gritted teeth, stilling your hips not to grind on him, hump his leg mercilessly. You knew that'd just fuel his cruel teasing even more.
"Yeah?" You yelped at the sharp sting.
"Yes, I wanna be good for you." Your spine ached at the uncomfortable bend in position, still you didn't dare move. It was true, you did want to be good for him.
"Are you going to be good for me?" Eddie whispered, nose nearly touching yours.
You bit back a giggle, stopped by three more sharp spanks of the crop to your ass, already itchy with growing agitation. "Yeah." Your eyes shone up at Eddie's, a silly, love sick grin that had him swooning.
"Yeah?" Eddie mocked back with a light snort. It was growing harder to keep the mean, domineering persona he tried to. When you were being this sweet, when you were being so good for him.
The crop fell again, this time your hips did roll. Just enough to dull the ache between your legs, a momentary release that had you melting further into his chest.
Eddie didn't miss it, pulling you closer to him, readjusting you on his thigh. "I don't know if I believe you." Eddie hummed, cracking the crop down again in short, sharp successions. "Are you really gonna be good to me? For the rest of time?"
You whimpered, hips rocking slowly, a steady rhythm that nearly had your eyes rolling back. The burning stretch of your ass mixed with the slow, pleasure-filled rolls of your hips.
"I will, I promise." You hummed in a high, breathy tone. "I swear I will be. I'll be a good wife for you. Forever and ever and ever."
Eddie's heart nearly burst at the words. How sweet they still sounded, even if you had technically been his wife for a few weeks now.
He let the paddle fall, his hands grabbing at your waist, pulling you into his lap. Lips on yours, your legs wrapping around his hips before he rolled the two of you, body slotting over yours, drunken giggles filling the air.
Hand intertwining with the other, Eddie's eyes rolled back at the feeling of your ring scraping over his when he finally slid into you. Mrs. Munson, forever. Forever his, just as he was forever yours.
Eddie had you pressed against the window of the suite, hips rutting into the fat of your ass, marked with the etching heart shape of the paddle. Overlooking the city's skyline, the sun was just beginning to peak over the horizon. Your cheek pressed to the window, Eddie's pressed to yours, skin smushed to skin, the two of you weren't close to being done. Just getting started, started on forever, started on a life together.
For now, in a hotel room in Vegas, insatiably happy and in love with one another. Mr. and Mrs. Munson, for the second time.
463 notes · View notes
yandere-wishes · 8 months
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‧ ₊˚✧ Do Not Weep Hydro Dragon ‧ ₊˚✧
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Summary: There's a crack in Neuvillette's heart that bares your name. He sheds a tear for you each day. Yet once you return to Fontaine with your fiance. The cracks and tears begin to grow. 
Warnings: Yandere behavior, stalking, arranged marriages, affairs. 
Author's note: I'm sorry 😭💔😭💔
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There've been rumors circling around Fontaine. Ghostly whispers floating between coral-tainted lips and fervid ears. The rumors spoke a bittersweet name. One Neuvillate had long since buried. At first, the notion of your return had felt like a bad dream. like the roar of a tsunami before it crashes on shore. Terrifying yet, ultimately unreal. He'd summed the rumors up to some traveler who bore your mien. To an erroneous article by the steam bird. Anything. anything at all. 
Anything that wasn't you.
It wasn't until after a particularly grueling trial that he'd witnessed the truth behind these rumors. There you were in all you're glory. Gleaming akin to the finest pearls laying dormant in the primordial sea. Your expression, when he could catch it, was gleeful, delighted, A drastic contrast to his last unfortunate memory of you. His eyes follow the delicate movement of your gloved hand as it stifles a cheery giggle pouring from your cherry lips. It's only after noting your delight that he becomes conscious of the gentleman accompanying you. A ginger with bloodthirsty eyes and a soul that reeks of carnage.
A splash of heat rolls down Neuvillet's cheek. Right before a splash of cold splatters across his temples. his attention narrows on the sky, as the
clouds begin to weep. What once was a peaceful sunny day shatters like a wine glass on porcelain tiles. Humidity threads through the air robbing him of his breath. 
It's raining.
How fitting, Neuvillette thinks as he watches you and your companion run to find shelter. 
Neuvillette recalls your smile almost as clearly as he recalls your pulse under his teeth. The taste of your flesh as his teeth left bloody love bites in every wrong place. He remembers saying I love you, albeit there was more to it than that. It had started with I love you and ended with every truth he'd forgotten how to tell. He had shed his human masquerade, in the hope of finding true love. You had screamed that night. You had screamed every night since. 
Neuvillette thumbs through his memories. As the rain outside grows more ferocious. He remembers you standing by the sea, he remembers you telling him the phobias that ran deeper than blood. 
You hadn't been from Fontaine, not originally. A fallen gear from an ancient automaton whose kin resided across the sea.
You'd been raised in the ways of the hydro court. Even if 'raised; was too generous a word. Morphed or sculpted may have been more appropriate synonyms. You grew up clawing at your own skin, trying to find who was underneath the layers of mindless expectations. You'd been raised as a lady and grew into a harrowing beast that feasted on the stars. 
Yet even creatures of unparalleled strength had their weaknesses. Even ever-blessed vision wielders bore a certain Achilles heal. 
Yours so happened to be your incompatibility with your foster nation. Or rather with the water itself. 
When people asked, as some had tended to do. You'd weaved them tales about serrated Pisces and dorsal-finned leviathans with open maws awaiting their prey. You don't tell them about the vastness, the dark blue landscape that feels all too wide and all too endless. You don't tell them about the things you swore you've seen lurking beneath the infinite waters of Fontaine. And you most certainly leave out the parts about the creature who engraved fear upon your bones many moons ago before you even knew how to walk.  
Neuvillette remembers your eagerness to leave. That had, ultimately, been your bonding point. He'd been an outcast. The supreme justice was ever only relevant when he upheld the law. And whilst Supreme Justice Neuvillette was revered and adored by all. Plain Neuvillette was nothing more than a shadow of evaporated water that hunted the streets of Fontaine. You had never wanted to mingle with the people. Keeping everyone at arm's length. Maybe it was fate that had brought two lonely souls together all those moons ago. Maybe it was something else. 
He had loved you. He swears it on the Hydro archon ( or any other Archon who lacks Furina's fickleness) He'd tried to show you that the waters of Fontaine meant you no harm. He'd even shown you his true form, the utmost assurance. Maybe that's why you fled. Maybe that's why you'd left him heartbroken one morning when the sun didn't rise. 
It had rained that day. As well as the following days. Until the surrounding islands ceased to exist. 
You'd left him hollow and alone.
Yet your return made the cracks in his heart fester. 
 Neuvillette had taken it upon himself to cloak you in his watchful gaze.
He'd come to notice how you and that dreadful Fatui Harbinger you'd come to associate yourself with. Rather liked taking long walks
 where the sea kissed the shore. He'd also noticed a ring of Snezhnaya Alexandrite perpetually wrapped around your finger. 
Neuvillette's footsteps are heavy as they collide with the concrete. He's closer today. So close he can practically smell the scent of citrus and eucalyptus. If he reached out with his powers he could surely touch you, feel the warmth of your body bleeding into him, just like old times. He misses you, yet a part of him pities your return. Neuvillette's grey eyes follow your desolate gaze. It rips open one too many wistful wounds. 
"So then Teucer said...Hey darling are you listening?"
Childe's eyes follow your frozen glare, tracing your line of sight straight to the menacing waters that refuse to part from your side. You hear your lover mumble a faint 'right'. Before you feel his silk-clad fingers dance across the back of your neck. Flirting with the chilling fear that rolls off you in waves. You pin your body to him, finding comfort in the familiar scent of his cologne as you bury your head in his neck. 
"I'm truly sorry for this darling" Sincerity rolls off his tongue, percolating into the tender kiss he presses to your temple. "I've just been feeling...down lately. Like this inexhaustible sadness is going to swallow me whole. Fontaine was the only place I could convince the Tsaritsa to transfer me for a short while. I just, I need a break from it all." You answer him in a low melodic hum. You get it, truly you do. Sadness is a poison, acidic in nature. It engulfs one's soul. Melting away their purpose, their resolve. Eating away until it reaches their hearts, their desires. It leaves behind empty shells and broken pieces too fragile to ever fully mend. 
Who better than you to understand the pains of being soulless, bereft? A mere shell awaiting a miracle that had died long ago. 
There's a voice, carved from velvet and silk. It rolls across you like a tidal wave. Potent yet soft. It whispers your name and calls out in hopes of mending broken hearts. You turn to look behind you. All you see is the endless sea. 
It's only on the fourth day of your visit that Neuvillette permits you to see him. Actually, see him. It's no longer his ghost that haunts you nor the empty waves that he commands beckoning you by name. It's him, really him. His glare is relentless as he leaves a prolonged kiss on your knuckles. You're in the middle of a conversation with that dreaded harbinger. Something about his older sister wishing to take to shopping upon your return to Snezhnaya.
"My darling it's been all too long, how fare thee my-"
He's cut short, how rude. Yet far be it from him to expect proper mannerisms from the Fatui.
"Hey, I'm having a conversation with my betrothed. Don't interrupt." Childe's eyes morph into his own glare. One which promises blood and violence. The fates of those caught on the other end of said glare are never pleasant. 
"As the chief justice of Fontaine, I have to right to interrupt any conversation I see fit."
Despite yourself, you let out a laugh. Choke the fear down with a cup of Fonta and ask Neuvillette to join the two of you. It's the nostalgia talking really. Some remnants of the past collide with the present causing your heart to adopt an unsteady rhythm. 
It's after that event that Neuvillet permits his presence to be seen by you and your "lover". He's always a mere breath away, following under the guise of being a gracious "tour guide". But tour guides do not wrap their arms around a lady's waist when her fiance isn't looking. Nor do they sneak kisses behind open parasols. You haven't protested about any of this. Maybe your fear of the hydro dragon has perished, replaced with a yearning for your former lover. He prays to every star in Tyvat for this to be true. 
It's on the day of your departure that you receive the bad news in the form of an army of Gardemeks. Childe is being arrested, something about a serial disappearance case. Something about a trial. It's a ruse you feel it in your bones. Neuvillette personally appears at the docks and holds you in his arms as you weep. He assures you this will all be cleared up soon. That you have nothing to fear. 
But you do, you have all so much to fear. Neuvillette permits you to stay at his house whilst the trial takes place. He traces the shimmering blue of your veins with his lips. He says he loves you, that he refuses to let you slip from between his fingers ever again. He'll keep you here. Keep you safe. Away from the Fatui. 
Away from Ajax. 
How he wishes he could tear the universe apart with his teeth. Part the oceans and bury the two of you under it. He dreams of keeping you by his side away from everyone else. Neuvillette is the chief justice of Fontaine, it's a prestigious role, one that demands trust. Yet maybe, just this once. He'll have to find the accused guilty regardless of the evidence. 
Tag list: @rebeccawinters @fangirl-katwithclaws @starshiningsirius
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ivesambrose · 3 months
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𝔏𝔬𝔳𝔢𝔩𝔶 𝔱𝔥𝔦𝔫𝔤𝔰 𝔱𝔬 𝔩𝔬𝔬𝔨 𝔣𝔬𝔯𝔴𝔞𝔯𝔡 𝔱𝔬 𐙚
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Its been a rather cold month so I decided to channel something warm to look forward to 🤍
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Picture 1
You may have been dealing with challenging situations or people who are quick to throw jabs at you or throw a wrench in your plans. This may have led you to question your own intuition and potential making you scared and hesitant to take a step forward or take any risks in the fear of failure. You'll realize that their scattered mindset and opinions aren't supposed to be your core beliefs. You're not supposed to take advice from people whose life you don't see yourself living. Rather, you should focus on what makes you bloom from within.
You can look forward to a shift in belief system that will in turn change your entire life and reality for the better.
You can also look forward to something that excites you in the form of a rewarding opportunity (especially in terms of career for most of you) that you have been wishing for or were being patient for the longest time.
You can look forward to something valuable that will grow with time and won't be a fleeting thing. You'll be able to trust your intuition and judgement again. You'll be receiving nurturing and quality connections in your life as well. People who care and support you and your dreams.
All of this comes at the small cost of slowly letting go of your self sabotaging tendencies.
Timing: Coming 21 days
Picture 2
You've recently fathomed the power of your thoughts and words and how time and circumstances are irrelevant when it comes to them materalizing. This has been happening a lot but in the past you have questioned them but now you've grown more adamant, strict and assertive. You've learnt to stand your ground. You want to fully step into your power more than anything and allow no one not even yourself to stand in your way.
You can certainly look forward to a completion and celebration. Your labour has been steady and your harvest will be abundant. Enjoy your prosperity. You'll also be embarking on a new journey in your life, ideas and outlook will expand, no one will be able to confine you.
There's a lot of passion coming your way, it will allow you to overcome any fear you may face.
That long awaited renewed hope, clarity and peace is finally yours. You can actually see your path ahead, the destination that you'll reach, so you'll choose to embrace and enjoy your journey.
You can also look forward to a physical glow up, being appreciated, being proud of yourself and your achievements. Shedding guilt. As well as connecting with people or existing friends who feel like your tribe, with whom you don't have to mask your true self to be loved and accepted.
Timings : coming 14 days, stay loyal to your end goals. (September for some of you too)
Picture 3
You can see the dots connecting in your life, maybe you don't know how exactly, you may not have the outline laid out in front of you but when you aren't overthinking it, you realize how one thing leads to another and gain momentum. Things aren't exactly as a standstill as you think. You're extremely disciplined and focused, so whatever you have set sights on is bound to happen or be yours.
You may not realize how powerful your esoteric gifts are but you will. You can look forward to your visions, dreams, written words actually coming true as though it were a prophecy. Be mindful of the people you share your wisdom and insights with. I do see you aren't as happy with your current social circle or people you interact with. You trust very few and you sometimes feel very isolated. But you excellent foresight and there's always a silver lining in your circumstances.
Life will begin to change as the days get warmer and longer.
There's so much beauty in you, you don't even realize that you're a muse to many or are about to be. You might go into hiding only to rise from the ashes as something wild and free. The transformation that you seek is ongoing and something you know is inevitable. Celebrate it when time comes or start from today itself.
Timings: Coming 12 days, summer season (July and August is standing out for some of you as well)
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