#i wanna turn my inner monologue off for a while

[steampunk-ghostxx]

Okay but when do I stop feeling like I'm too much for literally anyone

[sohnric]

plot twist – k. sunwoo

pairing: kim sunwoo x gn! reader

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

wc: 21k

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

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

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

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

TONIGHT'S PREMIERE – UGLY TRUTH (2009)

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

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

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

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

Until one fateful day, of course. 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Wait– newbie–”

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

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

“Oh.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

TONIGHT'S PREMIERE – PALM SPRINGS (2020)

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

Why?

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

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

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

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

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

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

He just laughs.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Yeah, pretty much.”

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

“My dad’s watching.”

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

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

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

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

Oh, how foolish of you.

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

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

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

“Look, you don’t have to-”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Who are you kidding?

You’d definitely say yes.

TONIGHT’S PREMIERE – THE HATING GAME (2021)

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

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

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

Maybe you should thank him, in a way.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“I know what those are–”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Sunwoo–”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Absolutely not.”

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

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

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

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

“Which one?” he asks, seemingly interested.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Wrong.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Why?”

“Because,” he shrugs. 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Look, I really can’t-”

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

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

“Because…?” you demand a valid reason.

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

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

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

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

Maybe you should quit yourself, actually.

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

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

Yeah. Not too many.

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

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

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

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

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

Wrong.

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

“Fuck, man–”

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

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

“Oh?”

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

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

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

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

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

“Kim Sunwoo–”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“You have to be kidding me.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Do you believe him? No. Absolutely not. 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Look, it’s not me, it’s my dad–”

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

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

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

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

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

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

The screening room was definitely cleaned before.

Which means that Sunwoo brought you here for absolutely nothing.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“What…?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

“I couldn’t,” he shrugs.

“Huh? But you bought two tickets..?”

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

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

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

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

“Probably,” he admits.

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

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

“Are you not leaving?” you ask.

“No,” he hums, “should I be?”

“Well, you’re on the clock…”

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

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

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

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

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

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

TONIGHT’S PREMIERE – CLUELESS (1995)

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Sir, I can’t-”

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

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

“So?”

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

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

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

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

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

“That’s ridiculous-”

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

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

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

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

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

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

“I’m sure he will.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

TONIGHT’S PREMIERE – ME BEFORE YOU (2016)

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

You force yourself not to care.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“What do you mean?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“How would you know?”

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

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

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

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

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

He fails you, though. “No.”

“Why not?”

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

“Oh come on–”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Okay, so it’s not working.

You’re fucked.

TONIGHT’S PREMIERE – THE PROPOSAL (2009)

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Not fair.”

“Very fair, actually.”

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

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

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

Fuck, you think. That’s my favorite. 

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

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

“Just because. It’s too long.”

“It’s not even two hours?”

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

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

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

“Y/N, come on–”

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

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

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

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

“Maybe,” you shrug.

And maybe, the true reason is something completely else. 

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

You decide you no longer want answers.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Grab a chair…?” 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“What–”

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

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

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

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

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

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

The choice is yours.

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Why–”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Sunwoo!”

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

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

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

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

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

Kim Sunwoo does make a really good kisser.

TONIGHT’S PREMIERE – PRIDE AND PREJUDICE (2005)

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

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

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

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

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

It’s the first snow of the season. 

Kim Sunwoo loves it when it snows.

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

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

Well, here goes nothing, you think.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“I thought so too,” you nod.

“And you don’t?”

Shrugging, you reply. “Not really.”

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

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

“You don’t?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“You’re so cheesy.”

“But you quite like me anyways, no?”

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

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

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

“We’ll see,” you shrug.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

[navybrat817]

Teacher's Pet

Pairing: Roommate!Bucky Barnes x Female Reader Summary: You role-play a bit with Bucky before a costume party. Word Count: Over 2.6k Warnings: Explicit sexual content, unprotected vaginal sex, dirty talk, role-play, inner monologue, established relationship, feels (it's me), Bucky Barnes (he's a warning, okay?). A/N: Fic #6 for Navy's Trick or Treat Nonsense! Not exactly a costume party with this Stud and Smartie poll winner, but close? @mumbles411, I think you'll appreciate it.❤️ Not beta read and written on my phone, so any and all mistakes are my own. Divider by the talented @firefly-graphics. Please follow @navybrat817-sideblog for new fics and notifications. Comments, reblogs, feedback are loved and appreciated!

Tonight was Tony's Halloween party and it was the perfect excuse to bring one of Bucky's fantasies to life. Months back, he told you about a particular role-play he wanted to try. You, shockingly, didn’t jump him then and there when you asked him to repeat himself, which he did. Right against the shell of your ear.

"I wanna fuck you while you wear a schoolgirl outfit."

Whatever you want, Stud.

You had to admit to yourself, that particular fantasy sounded like fun. You hadn’t thought about fucking any of your teachers before. Had Bucky actually been one of your professors, however, you would’ve been more than willing to cross a line. Who wouldn’t risk it all for him?

You inspected yourself in your mirror with a soft groan as you twirled. You reassured yourself after a moment that you looked good and Bucky would love your costume, if that's what you'd call it. The soft blue cardigan matched one of the shades in the short plaid skirt, which barely covered your ass. The white button-up exposed your midriff, along with the top of your bra, and the knee-high socks provided the finishing touch.

I look sultry, right? No, innocent. Both? Sulocent? Innotry?

With a deep breath, you pushed your door open and left your room to find him.

Oh, fuck.

You weren't sure if you said the words in your head or out loud as you spotted him standing beside the bookshelf in the living room. Everything went quiet in your mind as his gorgeous eyes met yours, but your heart almost raced out of your chest. Instead of his normal work or casual clothes, he had a tight sweater vest over a nice shirt and tie. The outfit made your massive boyfriend look even larger than normal somehow. He even wore a pair of fake glasses to complete his look.

“Well, look at you,” he said, the corner of his lip tugging in a smile as you bit your lip.

Yeah, look at me.

Something predatory in Bucky’s gaze surfaced as he dragged his eyes down the length of your body. You worried initially that the costume was cliche when there were so many others to choose from, but you felt sexy from the way he looked you over. You could’ve worn a hideous costume and he would’ve managed to find a way to compliment you. Tearing your gaze away to glance at the clock, you realized you had time to have some fun together before you had to leave for the party. At least, you hoped he wanted to fool around.

“Professor Barnes,” you breathed, hoping the next words out of your mouth wouldn’t sound ridiculous as you smoothed out your skirt. “Do you have a few minutes to discuss my paper? I want to make sure it’s perfect before I turn it in.”

You weren’t sure if he wanted to experience a bit of role-play before the party, but you wanted to give it to him if he did. The two of you did your best to please one another and it would be something for him to remember for days to come. You would, too.

And I can play it off if he decides he’s not into it, right?

He pushed himself away from the bookshelf to walk toward you, taking slow and deliberate steps as your breath hitched. “Do you normally violate the dress code when you want to discuss a paper? Not what I expect from my top student,” he said, making you swallow as he brushed a finger along one of the buttons on your top. “Or were you just trying to get my attention?”

“I’m going to a party,” you answered, smiling to yourself when he raised an eyebrow. “I’m sure I’ll catch someone’s eye.”

Bucky jaw clenched he stepped closer, forcing you to take a step back with wide eyes. “Is that right? Who said you’ll have time to go to this party?” he asked, backing you up until you were in your bedroom again. “If you really want your paper to be perfect, we’ll have to go through it line by line. That could take quite a bit of time.”

You tried to keep your breathing even as your eyes stayed on him, praying you appeared seductive as you walked backwards until your hips met your desk. “A bit of time? That could take all night, Professor,” you protested, lost in his gaze as he pushed a thigh between your legs.

“I’m counting on it,” he said, his voice quiet and deep as he braced a hand on each side of you. How was it possible for you to come undone when he hadn’t actually touched you? “You still want to be my top student, don’t you?”

“Yes, I do,” you answered as he leaned in, his breath fanning along your lips.

“Good girl,” he whispered, not kissing you just yet as you whimpered. Praise from Bucky always spread warmth through your core. “You do want to be my good girl, right?”

A shiver rolled down your spine when he brought his hands up to cup your face. It didn’t matter how he dressed or acted or what games you played. You knew in your heart this was your Bucky, your roommate, your everything. You were his as much as he was yours. So if he wanted you to be his good girl, you’d give him that.

“Yes, Professor,” you whispered.

His mouth hovered over yours before he kissed you, your mouth moving in perfect time with his. The scent of his cologne filled your nostrils when you inhaled, the touch and smell of him a sensual assault on your senses. The kiss was deep and thorough, a promise of what was to come. It made your head spin when his tongue brushed against yours, your hands flying up to his shoulders because you feared you’d collapse otherwise.

We really might not make it to the party.

“Turn around,” he ordered, his voice rough as he backed up enough for you to face your desk. Your body felt hot and needy, desperate as you fell into that familiar pit of need you often found yourself in with him. “And bend over.”

Blood warmed your cheeks as you bent over as instructed, your ass on display. Well, almost. You wore a pair of snug underwear that covered as much of you as possible. No doubt he saw the wet spot that formed and you didn’t have it in yourself to feel embarrassed with how turned on you were.

“I don’t even have to look at your pussy to know how pretty it is,” he said, flipping your skirt up a bit more. “Bet it’ll look even prettier when it’s taking my cock.”

Please, please, please.

“I thought we were going to discuss my paper,” you said, peering over your shoulder.

“We’ll get to that, but I think we should take care of each other first,” he said, making you clench around nothing as he touched your covered slit. “Or was it your goal to make me hard in my pants and go along your way?”

“No, Professor. I wouldn’t tease you,” you promised, your teeth digging into your bottom lip as he slid your underwear down to your ankles.

“Of course not because you’re my good girl,” he said, your thighs trembling as he pushed them further apart. “My brilliant, sexy, good girl.”

Your head nearly collapsed against the desk, your eyes squeezing shut. Why did his praise make you feel hot and want to cry at the same time? “I…”

Bucky’s hands froze on your thighs when you sniffled, immediately leaning over you and touching your cheek. “Are you okay? Check in, Smartie. Please,” he said softly.

As if you needed more reasons to love Bucky, the fact that he stopped to make sure you were okay meant the world. “Green, Stud. Very much green. I'm okay. I’m sorry,” you replied after taking a breath, your heart nearly beating out of control. “ The praise just hit me all the sudden. And I just love you so much.”

And here you were trying to do something sexy and fun for him and you ruined the moments with your emotions. The erection in his pants probably faded as soon as you sniffled. Maybe the two of you could leave for the party and try again later.

He pressed a gentle kiss to your temple where you felt him smile. “First, you don’t need to apologize for getting emotional. Second, I love you, too. So much. And third, we'll only keep going if you want to.”

Your eyes shut, the urge to cry both surfacing again and subsiding at his words. “I didn’t ruin the moment, did I?” you asked in a tiny voice.

“You’d never ruin the moment,” he replied, his lips touching your temple once more as you sighed. “Trust me.”

It was comforting that you could talk to Bucky about what was going on in your head or heart, whether you elaborated or kept it short. Which was why you felt confident again when you opened your eyes and glanced back at him, seeing only love, desire, and something soft in his stare. “In that case, I want you to fuck me bare, Professor.”

Bucky groaned, his soft hair tickling your neck, before he leaned up. He kept a hand on your back like he knew you needed his touch, his other hand quickly working to open his pants. “You think I’ll go easy on you just because you’re at the top of my class?” he asked, easily slipping back into his role. “You think you’ve earned my cock?”

“I can take whatever you give me. And I’ve earned it. I’m your good girl, remember?” you said, your nipples aching through your clothes as he pressed you further into the desk. Fiery shocks and heat went through your body as his finger teased your clit. “Please.”

You whimpered as he moved the digit to your folds, spreading the growing moisture around with a hum. He teased your hole, but didn’t push inside. The slow torture made you quiver and you wondered just how much more begging you had to do.

“Really is a pretty pussy for me to ruin,” he said, finally pushing in with little resistance. Your eyelids fluttered as he slid in and out, but you needed more. “Maybe I should let you go to that party. Send you in there dripping with my seed and show those boys who you belong to.”

“Please, ruin me,” you begged when he pulled his finger out, looking over your shoulder again. He was going to fuck you with the glasses on and the thought had your body going up in flames. Almost as much as the fact that he was stroking his hard cock to the sight of you. “Make me yours, Professor.”

“You’re already mine, baby,” he told you as he lined himself up. “But if I need to come inside you to prove it, so be it.”

You cried out as he thrust into you, the stretch intense and the force hard enough that you had to grip the desk to hold on. Waves of sensations threatened to explode through you at the deep slide of his cock, your body more worked up than you initially thought. You crushed your chest against the hard surface beneath you and you moaned as he pushed in more. There was no doubt in your mind that he was in control.

And you loved every second of it.

“Fuck, I needed this,” he groaned, his hand mapping along your back as you melted under his tender touch. “Should make you ride me wearing this. Put your hands behind your back with my tie.”

His mouth was on your neck in an instant when you moaned, licking and lightly sucking as his hips rocked against yours. The image of you in his lap filled your mind, your hands bound as he helped you bounce up and down on his cock. There would be plenty of time for that later. For now, he was practically pounding you into your desk and you wondered why you hadn’t worn an outfit like this for him sooner.

“Should keep you under my desk,” he went on, feeling his weight press you down more as he thrust. “Such a smart mouth in class, I know you can use it to keep me warm.”

“Fuck, please,” you begged, trying to push your hips back. He drove harder and deeper, your wet walls on the verge of quivering with bliss. “Please, Professor.”

He chuckled low in your ear, your eyelids fluttering again as you mewled. Your building orgasm threatened to rip through you and you barely registered that you begged for him again. “Already close, aren’t you? And I thought you were a good girl,” he said, his breath hot as he sped up his thrusts. “But bad girls let their professors fuck them bare, don’t they?”

“Y-Yes,” you whined, your eyes starting to roll back when he angled his hips to hit that glorious spot inside you. “Oh- There. There! Please!”

“My good and bad girl,” he grunted, moving faster as you arched your back, needing desperately to come.

“Want you to come in me,” you blurted out, teetering on the edge. Just a bit more and you’d fall. You needed it.

“I’ll come in you when you come for me,” he urged, smiling when he said the words that made you come undone. “You can do it, baby. Make me proud.”

The cry you let out was a decibel you didn’t think you were capable of reaching when you came, succumbing to pleasure as you shivered beneath him. He let out an impressive string of swears as you quivered around him, chasing his end as ecstasy flowed through you. A few more thrusts and he was gone, painting your walls with a growl before he rested his head on the back of your neck, both of you trying to steady your breathing.

You made a sound of protest as he pulled out of you, both because you didn’t want him to leave your body and you didn’t want his release spilling all over the floor. As if he sensed the latter, he pulled your underwear back up your legs. “Hey. I’m here,” he said, carefully guiding you to the bed so you could cuddle together. You were thankful he moved you since you didn’t have the strength to move yourself.

Fuck the party. I can’t walk.

“So,” he said after a minute, letting out a deep breath as he rubbed your back. “You earned an A.”

You giggled when he smiled, the sight making your heart speed up again. “Yeah?”

“Oh, yeah,” he sighed, a dreamy look in his eyes. You were glad he was satisfied. “Thank you for indulging me.”

“Don’t thank me. It was fun for both of us,” you said, tracing a heart on his chest. “The glasses really are a nice touch. You should wear them again.”

“Yeah? You like how I look in these?” he asked, adjusting them on his nose.

“I do. You’re always handsome,” you said, his blue eyes crinkling behind the lenses.

“I like looking good for you,” he said, tilting your chin to give you a soft kiss. “And I’m fucking you at the party.”

Oh, Stud. You know how to make a girl feel special.

“You better,” you said, burrowing yourself closer. “But I need a minute before I try to move, Stud.”

“Whatever you want, Smartie,” he whispered, linking your fingers together as he took your hand. “Whatever you want.”

These two will always have a special place in my heart. Love and thanks for reading! 🧡

Masterlist ⚓ Bucky Barnes Masterlist ⚓ Ko-Fi

[niningtori]

see me | chapter three: just out of reach

pairing: choi beomgyu x you

summary: after another failed relationship, you're ready to accept your fate as hopeless. choi beomgyu has other plans, though. or, beomgyu's your best friend's little brother and he's tired of you treating him like a kid.

genre: romance, angst, angst with a happy ending, best friend's brother au

word count: 2.2k

notes: it's my favorite person's birthday, so of course i have to post. i love beomgyu so much, y'all. also, i really do plan on making a masterlist soon i SWEAR. i just haven't yet :,). see end of work for more notes :)

beomgyu tries every trick in the book, but nothing seems to help. he tries lessening the gap between you physically to see if it translates to emotionally, but you just brush off every encounter like he's some fucking kid tugging on the back of a grownup's shirt.

he puts on the clothes that he knows suit him best, the ones that drive all the girls crazy, but the most you ever do is compliment him with "i like your shirt, beomie!" and ruffle his silky hair just like you always have.

he even tries lowering his already baritone voice and whispering seductively from behind you, but all you do is ask him if there's something in his throat and giggle as his breath tickles your ear. it feels like he's putting on an entire monkey show for a brick wall, that's about how unresponsive you are to his advances. he almost wonders how you even got into your past relationships in the first place because you seem so oblivious it hurts.

"quick, what else can i do to get her to fall for me?" he texts his friends in a crisis. the trip is over tomorrow and he's made no material progress. he looks to them for the millionth time this week and by now they're all thinking the same thing: it's hopeless. still, the more pitying ones, kai and soobin, tiptoe around that thought while yeonjun and taehyun tell him in no uncertain terms that this entire endeavor is fruitless. it stings, if he's being honest, but in a way, he kind of knows they're right. he's becoming increasingly less subtle, but you seem to be unmoved by every action.

-

"why don't we go to a bar tonight?" yijun suggests in honor of your last night of vacation.

"i'm in," jia replies with a smile.

you heartily agree and decide to dress yourself up a little more than usual. your self confidence has taken yet another blow from yet another unfaithful partner, so the act of putting on makeup and a pretty outfit does wonders for your confidence, but beomgyu is more anxious than ever when he spots you in the outfit you've chosen for the bar. you're always pretty to him, as cliché and insincere as that may sound, but he knows you'll be turning even more heads than usual tonight. he imagines a man piquing your interest right in front of him and it makes his stomach churn. no way in hell is he gonna let that happen —

— is what he says, at least. but some random stranger piquing your interest is the least of his worries now that you're actually at the bar. never in his wildest dreams did he foresee what is actually happening before him right now, which is you being pulled away with a dazed look on your face by none other than doyoon himself.

"what the fuck is he doing here?" and it sounds so much like his own inner monologue he almost thinks it was he himself who said it, but he turns and sees jia with her signature scowl and knows it was actually her.

"that's what i wanna know," beomgyu mumbles.

"who is that?" yijun asks cluelessly.

"that's doyoon," jia answers with venom laced in her tone.

"oh shit, the doyoon?"

"the one and only," jia sneers. "fuck it, i'm going to get her!"

"baby, no," yijun reasons incredibly patiently. "you've gotta let her make decisions for herself. let her do what she needs to do."

"what she needs to do is get her ass back here."

"don't you trust her?" he asks with a frown.

"when it comes to doyoon? nope. not at all." beomgyu flinches at this. he'd been there and heard firsthand just how desperate you were to keep a connection with doyoon after your breakup. there were countless times when he overheard jia scolding you for texting him even after he essentially ripped your heart out, set it ablaze, and stomped on the ashes.

"you shouldn't have to beg somebody to love you, you know?" he remembers jia reasoning.

"i know that, it's just — i just really love him. i don't know who i am without him," you said between tears.

"that's exactly why you don't need him," jia replied softly.

he stopped listening after that. his heart broke with yours for the first — and certainly not the last — time.

beomgyu can't take it. honestly? you haven't even been gone for very long, but when he thinks of the fact that you're out talking to doyoon of all people, he can't help but take a large gulp of whatever liquor he can get his hands on. he's very obviously staring at you talking to doyoon, but you seem without a care in the world if the smile on your face is any indication as to how you're feeling. he can feel the fiery alcohol bubbling up in his stomach as it churns at the possibilities of what could be happening between you two. are you letting him back into your life? does that sentiment even apply when his mark seems to have never really left in the first place? he doesn't know. if he thinks about it carefully, maybe he never wants to know.

-

"how are you?" doyoon asks with the charming smile you used to love so much.

"i..." you hesitate to answer. if you're being honest, you're not doing too hot at the moment and haven't been in a very long time. doyoon seems to take your hesitation as an answer in and of itself.

"yeah, i'm not doing so well, either," he says with a ghost of a smile.

"really?" you ask, head whipping up towards him before you can reel yourself back in. doyoon was always doing well, and even when he wasn't, nobody would be able to tell.

"really."

"why not?" you can't help but ask.

"if i told you my career is at a dead end, would you laugh and tell me i deserve it?"

"... i don't know."

"thank you for not knowing instead of just saying you would," he laughs. "you know, you're a lot kinder than i ever deserved for you to be." you're taken aback by this. you can't believe he's referencing your past relationship in a positive way. after your one-sided breakup, you tried to keep in contact with him in every way possible until he straight up told you you were being pathetic. his words, not your own. what you're even more surprised at, however, is how much you don't care. your heart doesn't seem to clench at the mere sight of his face, let alone at his emotionally provocative words.

"you know, i have no right to say this, but i'm going to, anyway. i'm sorry for what i did to you. really, i am. and if you ever want to get a drink with me sometime, i'd really like to make it up to you."

"i can't believe you have the nerve to say that to me," you counter without missing a beat, shocking even yourself. it only takes you about a millisecond to realize how much you mean it, though. doyoon is floored, to say the very least, but he regains his composure smoothly, just like he always does.

"i figured, but i still thought i'd ask. i know you have someone now, too. i guess it's shameless of me to ask." you stare at him quizzically. could he be talking about donghyun? he can't be. there's no way he'd know about him.

"what do you mean?"

"oh wow, i'm surprised he hasn't told you yet."

"wait, what? who?" you're a little tipsy, so his circuitous way of talking is making your head spin.

"well, if you don't know, i'm sure you will soon," he smirks as he locks eyes with beomgyu, who is currently glaring daggers at him from across the bar.

"i'll let you go," he sighs. "it was nice talking to you, even if you secretly want me to fuck off and never speak to me again." you actually crack a smile at this.

"you know what? it was nice talking to you, too."

you needed this. you needed some tangible closure and you finally have it. as you walk back to your party, you feel lighter than you have in a long, long time. you're finally prepared to fully let go.

-

the night sky is alight with white stars and the salty air is cool against your bare legs. the sound of waves billowing back and forth lull you into a trance, but your reverie is broken by the sound of someone stumbling behind you.

"beomie?"

"hi," he greets a little too loudly while plopping down beside you unceremoniously. you can't help but giggle at how drunk he is. what a cute kid, you think.

"what are you doing out here so late? you should be sleeping it off by now," you tease, nudging his shoulders with yours. you almost notice him lean into your touch, but you don't quite catch it.

"just wanna think," he says.

"about what?"

"a lot of things," he shrugs. you hum in understanding.

"you know, we never got to finish our conversation the other day. what's been bugging you lately?"

he pauses for a moment.

"i'm kinda hung up on someone, honestly," he admits with a lopsided smile that doesn't quite reach his eyes and you're genuinely stunned. he's never been particularly open about any girls he's been involved with, though there have been many based on what jia says. you'd be lying if you said you're not curious to know what kind of girl has the power to make the seemingly impenetrable beomgyu anxious, but you're mainly worried about how he's feeling.

"oh no, what happened?" you ask, sincerely concerned.

"nothing happened," he deadpans. "nothing ever happens. that's the problem." your brows knit in confusion.

"so you haven't made a move on her? why?" you can't fathom why beomgyu of all people would feel like this. he's never seemed to have an issue with getting whoever and whatever he wanted.

"i've tried, but i don't think she's interested in me in that way," he hints as nonchalantly as he can manage in his decidedly not-so-sober state. truthfully, he's not doing the best job at being discreet, either. but you don't notice a thing.

"i don't think that's true. i'm sure if you opened up to her she'd like you. you just have to be vulnerable and who knows? maybe she's interested but just doesn't know how to say it. she probably thinks you don't like her, honestly." his hazy eyes light up with hope. do you know you're the girl in question? are you both talking around the same point?

"you really think so?" he asks, heart racing. even through his drunkenness, he's putting the pieces together, albeit incorrectly.

"of course i do! i mean, you're a catch," you giggle and his heart flutters. "just be yourself and i'm sure you'll get somewhere with her. you can be so hard to read sometimes. maybe she just needs a little push?" the next second, your breath hitches as you feel warm lips latching onto yours. beomgyu is gripping your face with an intensity you've never known before. his lips are nice and warm, if a little chapped, while his eyes are scrunched shut with his long, dark eyelashes trembling in the moonlight. you gasp when he trails his hand down to the small of your back and he takes the opportunity to enter your mouth with his alcohol-laden tongue wrapping around yours. it's easy to melt into the feeling of pure heat with someone, especially when you're tipsy, so you do. you feel yourself melting further into his touch, but when he moans into the kiss, you finally register exactly who that someone is and push him off in a hurry.

"what the hell are you doing?!" you exclaim. you're panting now, face flushed and lips swollen, all thanks to him. he's absolutely fascinated by that fact. hypnotized, even.

"what do you mean?" he asks while blinking his big, watery eyes. he looks so innocent you almost can't believe he's the one who was snaking his tongue down your throat mere moments ago. oh. his tongue was down your throat mere moments ago. the thought itself has you sputtering out questions before your mind can quite catch up.

"w-what do you mean what do i mean? why'd you k-kiss me?"

"'cause i wanted to. 'cause i love you."

the world around you implodes and alarms blare in your ear. what the hell? you've only ever seen beomgyu as a good friend and maybe even a brother, but this? this was simply unprecedented. you would've never in a million years guessed that he harbored even a fraction of a non-platonic feeling for you. he must be drunk out of his fucking mind.

"i just love you so much," he slurs with his lisp in full effect. it's almost as if he can hear your thoughts and is intent on dispelling them.

you hesitate to reply and have the sorriest look on your face, so even in his current state he immediately understands that he misread the signs.

"beomie," you begin slowly and he winces. "i don't—"

"hey, i know. you don't have to tell me. i know," he says simply. "i was the one who misunderstood. you can forget this ever happened." he rises from your side and starts to walk away.

"beomie, wait!" you exclaim.

and, of course, he waits. you've always been able to gently twist his heartstrings in between your fingertips.

"yes?"

"i'm just.. i just don't want to lose you. you mean so much to me."

"you won't." and you never will. that's the problem.

you're at a loss for words, but he just smiles as if he already understands everything you can't seem to verbalize and it breaks your heart. why does it feel like he's the one babying you? with that, he turns away and resumes walking back to the house. you don't stop him this time. you don't have the guts to.

notes pt. 2: r u mad at me? i know i said this will probably be the final chapter, but there's so much more to say. i'm thinking there will probably be one or two more before i finally feel like the story has run its course. also, my pacing is so shit but i'm working on it <3 bear with me please! also, feedback is always appreciated! i'm a words of affirmation kind of gal.

[jaetyun]

How different boys planet trainees would ask you on a date; a thread!

sung hanbin, gunwook, ricky, taerae, hong hai, keita & gyuvin x gn!reader (all separately) (established friendships with all of them)

genre: tooth rotting fluff, implied school au with hai and gyuvin

wc: 2.4k

a/n: for my friends lani yen and lulu 🫶

Park Gunwook

swore he was a rizz god

not that he was overcompensating, gunwook was just a confident man!

“im an attractive guy! i dont see why i wouldnt have a shot?”

that was, until he met you

the reality was.. he was anything but a rizzler 💀

giggling like a schoolgirl at a joke you had made, gunwook covered his mouth and quickly cleared his throat. he was not gonna give himself away! in his head, the stone face could come off cool and mysterious. like, he was imagining your very inner monologue! ‘woah! this guys different.. he doesn’t laugh easily. i wonder what he finds funny… i wanna kiss him right at this moment!’ yup! that was definitely you and surely *not* his own thoughts. just to really sell his tough guy-sona, gunwook knew he had to make eye contact. intimidation worked on his dog, why wouldnt it work on people too! although.. he didn’t remember his dogs eyes being this mesmerizing…

“gunwook! are you even listening??”

“i would love to.”

your eyebrows furrowed in confusion, causing gunwook to snap back to reality. he sheepishly smiled, blinking a couple times before laughing.

“sorry i-“

“you’d love to what??”

gunwook laughed. not the ‘😭😭’ or the ‘😂’ laugh, the ‘ha.ha.ha’ laugh. he waved his hand, clicking his tongue while trying to think of a bluff. not like that! he would not love to take you on a date and most definitely would not love to date you! so why couldnt he say that out loud?? his mouth seemed to betray him, coughing out pathetically, “ha! what do you… how.. youre.. are you free this friday?”

You chuckled, a sound that melted his heart and any remaining tough-sona left in him. dammit! where did he go wrong? gunwook swore his intimidation was foolproof! still, he couldnt help but shyly bat his eyelashes as you responded to his simple request.

“id love to.”

Ricky Shen

ricky doesn’t strike me as someone who’d make the first move

“i dont chase, i attract” sort of mentality

it usually worked out for him

that was.. until he saw you getting too close to someone else

you barely made it around the corner before being jumpscared by the tall blonde, who was leaning against the wall waiting for you. his eyes practically burned with envy when you appeared in his view next to them

he frowned, looking at you and simply ignoring their existence. “you ready?”

“for..?” you tilted your head in confusion, giving him a slight side eye.

“Our date.” ricky frowned, no hint of sarcasm in his voice. this only proved to confuse you more, giving a couple of hard blinks before being dragging along by the taller male. you quickly waved bye to your friend, whisper-yelling at ricky once you were down the hallway.

“are you serious right now?!” you yanked your hand away, making him stop. he turned around, still looking as stoic as ever. ricky nodded, pulling out his card.

“a steakhouse or italian?”

Sung Hanbin

a very romantic man

wants everything to be perfect. you already know he bought a box of chocolates and everything

“so what if its cheesy? its sweet!”

he had valentine’s day marked on his calendar, hyping himself up with each day be crossed off leading up to it.

hanbin gulped, nervously fidgeting with the gifts he bad bought you. you already had a foot out of the electric doors of the building he was waiting at the entrance of. your eyes lit up seeing him, awkwardly waving while walking up to the boy.

“hey!”

“hanbin! whatre doing here? are these.. for me?” you look up at him curiously, eyes softening upon seeing his exicted smile. hanbin was quick to nod, handing you the flowers. then the chocolates. then a teddy bear. then the bag of candles and bathbomb. than the valentines card he handmade. all you could do was shake your head in shock. “you didn’t have to..”

“but i wanted to!” and its true! hanbin had spent so much time and energy into trying to make everything perfect that he came across overbearing. you had gotten used to it with his absurd amount of gift giving, bit even this left you in awe. he resembled a puppy, his imaginary tail wagging excitedly.

the sight was something you couldnt help but shyly chuckle at. “well thank you. happy valentines” hanbin.. hadn’t planned this far. his brain was sent into overdrive trying to find an appropriate segway to pop the question. he found himself opening his mouth, but not words coming out.

you tilt your head at hanbin, waiting to see what else he has in store. knowing himself, he was surprised he didn’t end up buying all of korea just for you. he awkwardly held out his hand, gesturing for you to take it (how he thought you would with your arms filled, youre not quite sure)

“shall we?”

Terazono Keita

doesn’t hesitate

“what good would stalling do?”

such straightforward thinking

“if you like me, you like me! if you dont, you dont”

he never second guessed his philosophy until he met you

keita shook his head in disbelief, shoving the singular flower he had bought into his friends face. “what do you mean? i thought you couldnt go wrong with flowers??”

zhang hao smiled condescendingly, pointing at the shriveled petals. “not when you had them for *weeks* now and never had the guts to actually use them” he responded flatly. keita clicked his tongue, mumbling “everyone finds them romantic hao…”

“i dont find a half wilted daisy very charming” keitas head was already ready to retort, but he quickly hushed hao away once he saw you walking towards their direction. he smiled, his personality flipping a switch as he met you in the middle.

“oh! keita, here’s that cd you let me borrow“

“nah, keep it.” he hummed, quickly shoving the white daisy in his back pocket. keita was sure hed come around to giving it to you next time! just like the last 5 times..

your eyes beamed, your grip on the plastic softly tightening. “..really??” keita nodded, taking in account your excitement. “what, do you like that band?” your pupils were practically sparkling, nodding wordlessly.

“not like. *love*” jackpot! fuck the flowers, keita had a new plan.

“well y’know.. they’re coming around town next month.” he shrugged nonchalantly, glancing at you to gauge your reaction.

“deadass??”

“ill buy a ticket if you do”

you laughed, nodding along in agreement. “alright, sure! tell me which seat you get so i can be next to you”

“okay, why dont we talk it out over dinner?” you were left unable to resist his not-so-hidden advances. his cheesy 😎 expression had you giggling like a child. “you bet. should i wait for you?”

he waved you off, shaking his head quickly. “ill catch up with you.” after you exchanged thumbs ups and you had vanished, keita turned around to zhang hao with a giddy smile.

“am i smooth or what???”

hao sarcastically clapped

“only took you 6 tries”

Kim Gyuvin

so thoughtful and organized

“i spend too much time thinking about you to not be this thorough!”

and thorough he is

has a backup plan for his backup plan

now he just needs to courage to actually do it

gyuvin mumbled under his breath the speech he has rehearsed for when you left class. he nodded once satisfied, proud of the script he had memorized. that night the boy had created a chart of every scenario and outcome depending on what you’d respond with. once he felt satisfied, gyuvin wrote all the answers and cue words onto his hand with some pen. even with all his planning, he still feeling those butterflies as hard as ever watching you leave your classroom.

“you know that bowling alley that opened up recently?”

“why, wanna go together?”

“oh it’s just down by- what?”

this was NOT a scenario he had memorized, and gyuvin quickly glanced to his hand to see what he should say.

“i asked if you wanted to go to the bowling alley with me.”

gyuvin hadn’t found his answer in time, and decided to just wing it.

“oh! umm, it’s just-“

alright winging it over. his brain seemed to turn to mush in your presence and without a guide he’d honestly end up scaring you away. what he *didnt* expect was you scaring him away instead.

you gently grabbed his wrist, pulling it closer to you to read what was on his palm. “what is this?” he quickly yanked his hand away in embarrassment, shoving it in his pocket. “oh y’know! just uh.. to help me on a test next period.. ?”

“i didn’t know your test had my name on it.” you chuckled at him, seemingly very amused at his now completely flushed cheeks. not only did he have your name written about a thousand times, he put hearts around each one. gyuvin opened his mouth to respond, but words seemed to fail him. you put a hand on his shoulder, bringing him back to reality a bit.

“gyu. you never answered my first question.”

“what is it?”

“do you. want to. go to the bowling alley. together?”

Dang Hong Hai

so shy

like please save him

he’ll talk about every little interaction while twirling his hair

“i borrowed a pencil!!” “… a pencil?”

fails to actually be able to speak to you though

hai had always been awkward when talking to you, so it was no surprise when you waved to him in the hallway he said nothing. it was also not a surprise when he never mentioned it later in class. what *was* a surprise was seeing him talking with a friend at the end of the hallway, resting against the locker nonchalantly. the nerve of that guy! and he didn’t even seem to notice your waving. you’re not sure why he suddenly switched up, but you’re gonna get answers out of him.

the answer you were not expecting is walking up to them and hearing your very name come out of his mouth. “we’re basically friends now!”

“really? arent you using the term too broadly here.”

“no i swear! we even wave to each other in the hallway now!” he cheered, seeming to gush at the idea. his friend pretended to be shocked, dramatically putting a hand over his mouth.

“woah, we’re taking big steps here. from pencils to waving?? might as well be official”

hai frowned, shaking his head. “i’m telling you all that’s left is asking for the insta!”

“you downloaded insta just for-“

“what??” that’s all you could say, caught completely off guard by their conversation. honghais mouth fell open, slowly turning to you with a :0 expression. “how much of that did you hear…?”

you looked between him and his friend, then him and his friend, back and forth back and forth.

honghais face was completely pink, burying his face into his hands. there was a moment of silence between you two.. both at a loss for words on what to say.

“i’m *so* sorry! i just-“

“you could’ve just asked..” you mumbled, pulling out a paper and quickly writing something down.

“please just- forget this! again i’m so-“ you placed the paper against his chest, waving to him before turning around and walking to class.

“well, you fumbled.” hai quickly hit his friends chest, looking at the paper in a panic.

on it laid your insta and number with a smiley face.

“let’s hang out :)”

Kim Taerae

always wondering how you won’t pick up on his flirting

the flirting in question: sending you tiktoks he finds funny

one of his usuals is making songs for you and having you tell him what you think

at this point, he wants to get straight to the point and finally pop the question. his method of choice is through song like always

the two of you had picked a spot to hang out together, to let taerae “show a new song he’s been working on” for the most part it was true! and you had never questioned his intention for the serenades, chalking it up to ‘he liked the genre!’

taerae began the rhythm, humming along to the guitar he began to play. you nodded along, closing your eyes to truly listen to the music. the lyrics were a lot more direct then normal, straight up sounding like a cheesy love confession. when you heard the strings no longer make a noise, you opener you eyes and began clapping.

“your lyricism is improving! it’s a lot more poetic this time!” you noted, earning a chuckle from the boy.

“are you curious why it’s better?”

you shrugged. “i guess. what is it?”

“this time i had someone in mind~” he gives you a look, one that screaming there’s more questions he was begging you to ask.

“is that right? who’s the lucky one” you entertained, resting your hand on the palm of your hand. your elbow rested on your knee, giving taerae your utter attention.

“guess.”

you jokingly started to look around you two, examining everyone else walking around the park. squinting, you pretending to consider some options in the crowd, only to turn back to him with a cheeky grin. one last glance from the left and right, you landed on one last option. you slowly raised your head out of your palm, pointing to yourself with only half sincerity. taerae shyly nodded, giving you all the confirmation you needed without saying a single word being exchanged between you two.

“seriously?” you pointed at yourself with more emphasis, and he softly laughed before pointing to you as well. you both continued to feed each other giggles, seeming to telepathically communicate. you finally cleared your throat, trying to silence all the leftover snickers. “well? what’re trying to say mr. singer?”

taerae straightened his back, running his hand through all the strings of his guitar before saying in a sing-songy voice (that did not go with the riff at all) “will you go out with me? ♪”

you began to cackle, clapping in laughter at his cute nature. you pretended to ponder the question, tapping your chin with an index finger. “sorry what was that? i didn’t quite catch it.”

“will you go out with me? ♪”

you leaned over to him, plucking a random string and mimicking his singing.

“yes i will ♪”

[wherewolfwasteland]

Apollo justice + some dual destinies (ace attorney spoilers and rant !!!)

I've cleared the game a little while ago and while there was some aspects i liked,overall I was very mixed . First of all I love phoenix and his character change , it makes things interesting and I don't mind that he just goes back to himself later in the game . I also really like ema skye and how despite her talent she didn't make it into the job she wanted , it's realistic and gives her even more character growth . The soundtrack and animations were beautiful as well and the first case was one of my favourite first cases (tied with the first case of trials and tribulations)

Now for the things i didn't like (there's a lot unfortunately)

- apollo justice: first of all I won't be the first or last person to say he was a side character in his OWN GAME but that's not all that I don't like about him . First of all it really annoys me when he points out people's nervous traits every single time. I understood the first time since it was new to the player but everytime after that? Its cringe . I'm sorry but if I were a witness and the defence attorney told me that I was playing with my hands when I was nervous or something , I'd make a conscious effort to stop doing it . Uggghhh so cringe . It makes all of the witnesses look stupid af . Another thing i don't like about him is how little we actually learn about him . I like how he deals with his own trauma (pushing it away) and even in dual destinies going his own path was very interesting. But his inner monologue was very lacking in personality or anything really. Honestly it sucks because I do like him as a base character but the fandom definitely made me like him, and gave him more characterisation then those two games ever did .

Trucy : don't get me wrong , she has her great moments and she's super cute (I do love her overall) but I have some issues as well . First of all I hate the fact they made her super pale , there are no black characters in ace attorney , and even though I understand her not being black , she could have been tanned like her father. I don't wanna hear no "ace attorney is made in Japan so no black people" bullshit. This game isn't very realistic in the slightest so when people use that as an excuse for lack of diversity it annoys me so much ! And one more thing I don't like about trucy is that she is used as a panties joke wayyyyyy tooooo muccchhhhh , I'm sick of the panties !!!! Give it a resttttttttttttt . Ah I do love her lots and lots though . Okay okay moving on .

Klavier : and this is going to piss people offfff i know!! Bur he is just really really boring!! Which is so unfortunate because he had all of the makings to be great . He's in a band (that's awesome!) And he has great charisma and presence. But over the game when though so much happens to him he just brushes it all off, and not in a pushing away his trauma like apollo way either. It's always going to be harder to portray a character the player doesn't get to play since we can't hear his inner monologue (which would have been so cool) but still - I mean his best friend / band mate and his own brother both turn out to be murderers and he literally does not care in the slightest . Don't even get me started on how weird he is in aa5 . Also the fact that he was supposed to be your rival throughout the game and he really wasn't at all made going against him boring too . Don't get me wrong, going into a case I already know I'm winning , but in this game I knew I was winning if you get me . Other then the huge lost potential with him, I do think he is interesting, unfortunately mostly in fanon .

Kristoph: I mean I really really liked him as a villain I did ! But it was all too soon. This man had no real motive at the end of the day and he was gone before I even cared enough about him. He was apollos mentor and klaviers brother and he could have been given so much hype before the twist but no , first case and I'm over him . I don't even care he forged the evidence at that point . I knew he was evil. Also they should have made him go all out ! Like kidnap trucy at the end ! Go completely nuts !!! Especially since he has those 5 black locks , he could have been one of the greats .

Others : now there was other small things I liked and didn't like , overall I am happy that I played the game , I like the added characters despite their flaws and I like how they expanded their powers and stuff . I know some people don't like the fantasy elements but I like them a lot . I think it can add fun gameplay and stuff so yeah!!

Lastly here is somethings I would have done to change and improve the story (this is my opinion . I'm a meer fan with no writing experience so take this with a grain of salt)

Firstly I would have had kristoph be apollos mentor throughout the game until the last case . This way we grow attached to him as apollo but also it would give klavier someone to bounce off of . If he was going to be nice to apollo maybe he could have disliked his brother and been mean to him in the court (kristoph being mean back of course ) or they could have had that strange love hate siblings rivalry going on . It would give us a chance to really get more out of klavier. Kristoph (him manipulating apollo making us even madder at the end when we figured it out) and apollo , finding it hard to trust phoenix at first and growing to trust him later in dual destinies (until the last case where he departs the agency and yeah we all know what happens) . It could have been such great insightful character development.

Like imagine , this mentor has been by your side the whole game , helping you win ! Boosting you up (to make his brother look bad but you don't know that. Oh and also to be a better attorney than wright in a way , I like the idea of him hating phoenix and wanting to best him (so giving him the forged evidence) just not in the way it was done. I want him to really hate phoenix for phoenix and not because some guy chose phoenix over him once) anyways. This guy, you grow to trust him , even defend him against his brother even though the brother is being sweet to you, no way would your mentor be awful ! He's definitely lying . (He's not lying) and yeah the final case, he kills trucys father or he could even kill trucys father at the first case and produces forged evidence so that he gets off free !! Could be interesting and would have no effect on apollo since kristoph would be the one to forge it . Anyways either way . He kills trucys dad, forges wrights evidence , maybe even forges his own . He kills another person and also gets desperate as he realises that phoenix is onto him (he's kinda desperate but also thinks phoenix can't really get him since he's barred) , he kidnaps trucy because she has been too close to his crimes and then as apollo you are trying to solve the murder, find trucys kidnapper and discover the culprit behind the forgery all along . You slowly piece together that it was your mentor who had lied and manipulated you (apollo) this whole time and you can't believe it . (Heck klavier can't even believe it ! He knew his brother was awful but he never would suspect that ) kristoph is sent to prison , trucy is saved , phoenix is dropped of his forgery allegations , the person who got a guilty from the first case is set free ( if they decided to have kristoph produces forged evidence then) and apollo and klavier sit down. Get a drink maybe some food . And they bond over their shared trauma and hurt . Leading them to be best friends in aa5

Other thoughts :

The gameplay was great in apollo justice (not so much in dual destinies tbh) so I definitely would have kept that the same with less flashbacks , telling me what to do too much and the whole apollo telling people their nervous traits .

Next the story of trucy and apollos parents (mother especially ) was very very very very messy . Idk how to fix that jdjskskskx also it's just gone after this ?? Phoenix doesn't tell them and their mother also doesn't care about them ?? Also also another thing I want to mention ! I wish trucy didn't have the same power as apollo . I know his is stronger because of the bracelet but still . It cheapens his abilities because they aren't special at all . Like I feel that pearl and maya , even though had similar abilities were both useful in their own way but in apollos case sometimes it really seems as if trucy is better than him at his own ability idk . I would have definitely made it so she didn't have that ability.

Okay okay I'm rambling at this point ,I really am but ugh so many thoughts in my adhd brain that won't shut up (so I'm sorry if this is messy) but yeah I do want to say again I do love these characters and stuff so no hate :3 (thank you )

So yes this rant was all over the place but I hope for the most part it was legible ! Please comment below because I'd love to talk more about this but for now, rant over :D

[imaginespazzi]

stated it will never not tickle me that you give a preamble about how much you don't like the chapter before dropping the most earth shattering amazing chapter ever.

I mean, don't get too cocky I have multiple bones to pick with you, but it was really good ok?!

Before I dive in here, I wanna wish you an extremely amazing vacation! As an Italian American I want to warn you that Italian girls are incredible sexy and if that other person you were fucking with is still being fickle, you should def bang some Italian chick, and get some inspiration for writing smut because you are currently EDGING US TO DEATH.

August 2025

Wow it just occurred to me that in this universe Azzi went back for her 5th year, so at the time of the proposal Azzi is 22 and still planning on spending another year at UConn? Paige what are you doing.

"She’s cut off by the sound of excited chatter filling up the air and Azzi doesn’t have to turn around to know who’s just entered the premises."

By excited chatter do you mean women yelling PAIGE I LOVE YOU and screaming and throwing their panties at her?

No rings. It feels wrong. But then again, nothing has felt right for three months.

gut punch for us PaigeWithLotsOfLesbianRings-sexuals

“I see Jewell and Téa,” Paige cuts her off immediately, her legs already moving in a rush, “I’ll see y’all later.”

ok this may be out of pocket but I think Paige and Tea would make a really hot couple. I mean if Azzi left her for you Nivi, and that is the only reason P would be single ok?

Paige shrugs, tugging on Azzi’s hand to pull her closer, “you said you don’t wanna fight and I- I don’t want you to go,” the confession hangs between them as Paige’s hands fall to Azzi’s waist, “so- let’s just- let’s pretend.”

you loooove writing heartbreaking scenes that take place in the back parking lot of a bar where they talk about pretending huh? “Sshhhh just- let me have this okay,” Paige’s voice trembles as she leans her forehead against Azzi’s, “if I can’t have it for real, please just let me pretend.”

well now I have to go commit myself to a psychiatric hospital because I am crying while reading a fanfic about a real life couple who are on the university of Connecticut women's basketball team. Great!

if only you’d just let me hold you in front of the world

Annnnd Paige's impending panic attack in the present day story is going to be about…

April 2033

“you look phenomenal.”

ok after I read this line my inner monologue was literally "wow big word Paige", so the next line you wrote is technically plagiarism

“Foreplaying,”

ok I loved this cause it was finally a reference to something sexual between them. Up until now its technically been a chapter of the book of Mormon.

“You know I’d take you with me if I could Stephie,” Paige says, “but I’ll make it up to you tomorrow I swear.”

so at this point Paige just wakes up, gets ready for the day, goes to Azzi's for the entire day, then gets home and immediately goes to sleep?

“Well it could be if you’d just let me fuck you after,” Paige grumbles and Azzi’s mouth falls open at the bluntness of it.

def not in the Book of Mormon anymore Fine. Okay. Whatever. I won’t go. You have the time of your life with fucking Clementine or whatever-”

this line is line is extremely Paige accurate

April 2029

“she needs to hear how much I fucking hate her. Azzi do you hear me? I can hear you breathing. I know you’re there. Did you hear what I said?”

wow stab and twist

Ok honestly justice for Olivia, girl deserves to be fucking furious.

"How do I make it go away? Please tell me how I make it go away? How did you make it go away?”

oh ok, im crying again

April 2033

Paige’s hand resting on her lower back as the blonde guides the two of them through the crowd in search of their teammates.

ok mystics game reference

“and I supposed there’s no point in introducing Azzi to you since y’all came together,”

ok in this Universe is it not canon that most womens basketball fans know these two are a couple? Like is it common knowledge to these other players that they are non-platonic or is it a pre-leak reality? “and it is really good to see you Azzi. I have missed you.”

ok I can just hear this in a French accent and Paige just making the most disgusted American face possible “you sit Clémence. You already have a drink. I was gonna go get one for myself and I’ll get Azzi’s too. Besides, Azzi's more of a fruity drink girl. Az I’ll get you a piña colada-”

This proves Paige is no rizzler at all, because a rizzler would know that a woman does not want a sugary frozen blended drink at a club “I would have liked to stay but they needed the cap space so they could sign her. She- she’s quite expensive

oh, ok, so now you have me feeling sympathy for this French fry? You are the QUEEN of writing 'the other woman'

It makes Azzi clench her thighs together as she tries to focus on Clémence.

NEVER BEEN FURTHER FROM THE BOOK OF MORMON

“It’s funny you’re acting like such a fucking prude when you have a bastard chi-”

I AM SO SCARED RIGHT NOW

“Let’s go,” the blonde’s voice is eerily low, “we’re going home.”

wow Paige, weird time to be all domestic n shit

“Baby-” the word slips out from Azzi’s lips before she can catch it. She hasn’t used it for someone other than Stephie in so long that it feels foreign on her lips and yet, it fits exactly right.

OMG Azzi showing uninhibited emotion this is crazy

“we hooked up a couple of times,”

thats it?! wow Clem has no game, I am proud to be an American - where at least i know im freeeeee

“You don’t get it yet do you,” Azzi whispers, reaching up to cup Paige’s face, “baby you are the exception to all of my rules.”

oh now im crying from my eyes AND my vagina. But most of all I'm MAD- MAD at you for ending the chapter there, and not showing us the SEX, then going at least two weeks without a chapter - EDGING US TO DEATH. 🤱🏻🤱🏻🤱🏻🤱🏻🤱🏻🤱🏻🤱🏻🤱🏻🤱🏻🤱🏻

Ahahaha tbf I'm a bad judge of my own writing because reading it lowkey makes me die the first time 😭

Well as much as I can confirm that Italian women are in fact stunning, I am a) on vacation with my family which includes my strict-ish parents and b) my situationship is in a pretty good place right now

That is in fact exactly what I mean by excited chapter

Listen if Azzi every leaves her for me, idc who that blonde decides to do at that point. Téa is drop dead gorgeous tho.

There are apparently some common tropes that I must write about these two i.e back of the bar heartbreak, phone calls...I have a formula

If it helps, in real life those two are being disgustingly domestic visiting each other's families and acting like an old married couple where one of them builds while the other appreciates the scene so...

LMAO same braincells fr so it's not actually plagiarism

BOOK OF MORMOM 😭😭😭

Yep that's a very apt description of Paige's day really.

Fun little tidbit that I named the character Clémence solely so I could make a clementine joke.

In GH Pazzi were firmly a secret the whole time

I enjoy writing the "other woman" as a woman who was wrongly "other-ed" if that makes sense?

Listen I think we should all clap for Azzi because girlie's taking some steps, baby ones fs, but STEPS!

I think you'll like next chapters babes ;)

[clockworkspider]

Ohhh that tarot prompt game is such a cool idea 👉👈

Yuzuru and Ibara?

Or, if you're not comfortable with them, Keito and Eichi because I will never shut up about them?

Doesnt need to be romantic!!

Keito and Eichi ended up with the better card draws.

Six of cups - Happy memories from the past, inner child Reversed Hanged Man - Resisting change of perspective Reversed Devil - Attachment holding one back, unable to let go

cw: end of life discussions

Keito and Eichi finalizes Eichi's funeral plans.

—

“Keito! I’m so glad to see you! If I have to talk to another lawyer I think I’m going to die two months early. Did you bring the Item?” 

“Don’t joke about that. And yes, I brought it. Tho I think it’s still too soon to revisit this. My family and I will take care of everything, so why don’t you focus on living.” From his bag, Keito withdrew an old notebook. Tho the color of the cover has faded with time, the edges were as crisp as they were 18 years ago. On the cover, in the neat and stiff writing of a child, were the words ‘Eichi’s funeral plans’. 

“I want to finalize this while I still have the energy, otherwise my family will have everything their way.” Eichi answered, a matter of fact. 

“Funerals are for the living, you know?” Keito chided half-heartedly. Already prepared to execute Eichi’s demands, no matter how unreasonable. 

“That’s why we’re reworking it, right? I’m not gonna ask to keep the pyramid, so you can relax. I’m sure with the amount of proposals we’ve overseen thus far, we can come up with something dignified enough to satisfy my family. But it’d be a shame if there’s no trace of all the hard work of our childhood selves.” 

“Fine,” Keito said. He sat down, opened the notebook, took out a pen, and grimaced. 

“Oh?” Eichi intoned. 

“Our imagination truly knew no bounds back then,” Keito explained. 

“Pass it, I wanna see!” Eichi took the notebook and poured over it, occasionally reading aloud what he thought were amusing. 

“Oh my gosh, is that your writing? Did you actually make a vampire shogun reference here?” 

“It was a cool scene. I think it’s very poetic and appropriate for a buddhist funeral. You seem to have agreed here.” 

At that, Eichi fell silent, and just stared. 

“What?” Keito asked. 

“I’m just thinking of how familiar this look. You, sitting by my hospital bed, with that notebook and pencil in your hands, planning my funeral,” he said, smiling. 

And now it was Keito’s turn to be silent. 

“It was easier back then,” he finally said, looking away.  

“I never thought I’d live this long back then, to be honest,” Eichi answered. 

Keito had nothing to say to that. 

—

They spent some time pouring over the details, going between reminiscing their childhood and working on the new plan in an unhurried fashion. Truth be told, neither of them had any time to waste. Still Keito argued over the increasingly silly ideas seriously. If they keep working on it, it would never become something final. 

“Anzu has volunteered to organize a send-off party with our generation of yumenosaki graduates and the initial ES staff. We can incorporate some of the more light hearted ideas there instead, so the funeral itself can be more solemn, and you can take part yourself if you have the energy,” Keito said. 

“Really? She didn’t tell me!” 

“We were going to finalize a few things first after our session together today. She didn’t want to trouble you with it at the early stage yet, but I figured you’d want to start composing your monologues.” 

“Fufufu…” 

“What now?” 

“Keito has changed. The past Keito would have never relinquish part of his plans to someone else. 

“Well, if it’s that girl, I’m sure she’ll handle it with care.” 

“Keito is more proud of our beloved Anzu than anyone, right? You’re the one who corrected all her earliest proposals. I’ve seen the mark-ups. You were merciless, you practically re-wrote the whole thing!” 

“Well, she’s fixing mine now.” 

“She’s come a lone way, hasn’t she? Tori too… To think we’ve started the path to our dreams with so many blunders. Back then, I never thought we’d get this far. To think that I got a chance to stand shoulder to shoulder with Wataru… And Akatsuki has come so far too. I know you and Rei fought the long fight with Rhylin execs and won. I’m proud of us.” 

“Save that for the speech,” Keito said, paused, and added, “I’m proud of us too.” 

“But you know, I don’t really know if i’m sold on the idea of a light hearted sendoff and a heavy solemn funeral. I know some people want their friends and family to send them off with a smile. Like it’s all going to be alright and they can go happy. That’s just lying to themselves, right? I’d rather see how much people will miss me while I’m still alive,” Eichi said glumly. Then, with a bit of mischief in his eyes. “Say, why don’t you cry for me now, Keito?” 

“Don’t be ridiculous! How did the conversation even turn to here? I’m not Hibiki, I can’t cry on command.” 

“But you’ll cry for me after I’m gone, right? That’s so unfair, everyone else will get to see it except your childhood friend. Rei mentioned he made you cry on stage once. And to think I missed it!” 

“I wasn’t crying on stage! Stop bringing that up!” Keito snapped, then sighed, an expression of immense pain. “Anyway, you can’t ask that of me. 

“It’s the job of officiant to direct the mourners and keep things together until the end. It’s not my turn to mourn until everyone else are done. To ask me to cry for you while you’re still alive. Incorrigible.” He tutted, and he didn’t say, ‘If I do, I don’t know if I’d be able to stop. If I give in to grief, and let it swallow me whole, I don’t know if I’d ever resurface.' 

Eichi laughed, startling and crystal clear. “But Keito has been crying for me all these years, haven’t you?” A pause. “When I look at you, my first friend, I can’t decide if I want you to move on and be happy, or if I want you to mourn me forever. When I think of the person all of you will become without me in your lives, it hurts so much. 

“In Buddhism, they say attachment the source of all suffering, right? And seeing Keito suffer is a hobby of mine.” 

“You use to be so cute,” Keito muttered, “how did you grow up to be so twisted?” 

To that, Eichi could only chuckle. 

“Hey, Keito,” Eichi said, “I’m not ready to go. 

“I don’t want to leave.”

And Keito, without words, pulled him into his arms in a trembling hug, crushing them together tighter than they’ve ever been before. 

“I don’t want to go, Keito,” he repeated, over and over, between sobs he didn’t know if they were his own, “I don’t want to go.” 

—

“No Eichi, we are not doing the scavenger hunt on your funeral. Don’t be ridiculous.” 

“You’re already thinking of clues, right? Keito loves that kind of thing. I know you do.”

[maybe-your-left]

Bed Bug - Part 3 of 3

Summary: Kylo rolled off the edge of the bed, somehow landing on his feet with his hard dick still hanging out of his pants. You watched with your mouth opening and closing like a trout, and he turned to you. Making a mocking crying face, complete with fingers trailing his cheeks with tears, “Oh, you poor baby! Never had to wait for something in your life, come on. Let's get you dressed for class and then we will see if you get to cum today.” 

the lizard is a bearded dragon bby

Enjoy Part 1 and Part 2 before reading! along with my College Kylo Ren Masterlist

Come over. 

Who is this? 

🐸 

Okay? 

Come over. 

Wanna cuddle. 

Kylo? 

No its someone else. 

🐸 

How’d you get my number? 

I borrowed it. 

Picking u up. B ready. 

“Who the hell invited Kylo over? He just drove onto the grass again.” 

You groaned from your bunk bed, letting your phone fall on your freshly washed face. It was Monday evening, you had things to do tomorrow… these things didn’t include getting dicked down by the frat king. 

Even though you’d thought about it, after doing the walk of shame at the Sunday meeting yesterday. All the way back to your lonely table, while he high fived everyone he could touch on the way back. Explaining how you ‘choked on his dick like a champ’ to the brothers, Kuruk gave you a look you didn’t trust when he heard it. 

Bazine and Kaydel were dead silent on the way back, and you ran upstairs to your room with your tail between your legs. 

You didn’t do anything wrong! It was justified, there was nothing more to happen- 

“Don’t make me climb up there,” Kylos voice boomed through your inner monologue. 

You peered over the edge of your top bunk, looking down towards your door frame. Filled by his beastly body, dressed in maybe his version of pajamas? It was almost past nine-maybe he had a normal bedtime on weekdays? 

His plaid lounge pants looked comical on his long legs, Bazine pushed him into your room. Your dorm mate got out of her bottom bunk, mumbling something about getting a snack. 

Kylo watched her squeeze past him, before moving directly to the edge of your bed. His head clearing over the mattress as you were wedged between the ceiling and your covers. 

“Hi,” you whispered, smushing your face into your pillow. 

“Hi cutie,” his nose scrunched as he smiled, “I came over.” 

“I see that.” 

“I thought you were gonna come to my place first,” he sighed, gripping the metal frame with his large paws. You watched his fingers flex over the wimpy casing holding you in the air, he could probably rattle it free from its hinges if you upset him. 

Rolling carefully to your side, you reached a hand out to touch his hair. Clean, extra soft like a kitty cats tummy, he pressed his forehead into your palm. Sighing again, “Think I can fit up there?” 

“Nope.” 

He shrugged, “That’s too bad.” 

You were pushed rather violently to the back wall of your bed in a rush. The bed creaking loudly as he hoisted his body over the edge, squishing himself between the ceiling and your claustrophobic form. You pressed both hands on his chest, pushing hard, “Stop! What are you doing!? Its gonna collapse.” 

“Bummer,” he wiggled his shoulders, digging into your covers like an animal. “Then you’d have to come sleep at my place… don’t want that.” 

He groaned into your pillow, “Your shampoo smells so fucking good babe…” Taking another strong whiff, “We gotta get you some of that for my place.” 

“What are you talking about?” you slumped, defeated, into the crevice between your bunk and the wall. He had cocooned himself into the top layer of your duvet, chest down on the XL-twin mattress… 

“Shush-I’m tryna sleep like you normally do,” he growled, “It’s kinda nice? Like I'm on a cloud…” his hand darted out from the mass of blankets, latching to your waist and pulling you into the depths. 

“Give me a good night kiss.” 

You rolled your eyes, wrapping yourself in the covers as best as you could. Overheating already from the furnace his body heat made in your small sanctuary. You brought your cheek to his shoulder, burrowing into his nest, “Where’s your face?” 

“Right here,” his chin jutted forward. Lips pursed for you to smack one on him, “Kiss me, then we can power nap before we go to my place.” 

“Kylo I’m not coming over,” you groaned, “I have classes in the morning…” 

“So do I but that doesn’t mean I’ll be going to them? Come on, just give me a kiss. I’m all comfy now and don’t want to have to roll on top of you for one.” 

His eyes opened up, glaring as he made smacking noises with his mouth. Repursing them over and over, what the hell, you quickly pressed your lips to his. 

Overcome with his taste for the third time in two days, your heart fluttered as he smiled into you. Breathing hard through his nose before kissing you back a few times. Humming in contentment, “Good, let’s go to sleep.” 

———— 

BEEP BEEP BEEP BEEP 

You groaned, a heavy weight pressed on your chest. Caging your arms to your front, you tried to wiggle your shoulders out of your blanket coffin. 

Finding it near impossible, somehow you’d managed to fold yourself under your mattress? 

There was no other explanation. 

You retraced your steps from the evening before, you woke up, went to class, studied downstairs with your sisters, had a big dinner, showered, and laid down… 

And then… 

“Will you turn that fucking thing off before I throw it at the wall?” Kylos gruff voice startled you. 

Gasping as his cheek came to rest on top of yours, swiping a thumb along your bottom lip. Pressing on your pout a few times before dipping it inside, your tongue instinctively lapping out to taste him. 

He purred into your hair, “Good girl, now let’s snooze a little more and then I’ll fuck you real good.” 

“Ky-lo,” you mumbled, squirming underneath his form, your alarm still blaring overhead. “Get off of me.” 

“Hmm,” he clucked his tongue, pressing his thumb inside your mouth more so you’d suck on it. “I don’t think so.” 

“Will you guys shut up? His snoring has been rattling the bed all night?” 

Both you and Kylos heads lifted up in unison, oh. Your roommate came back? The bed creaked underneath you both and out she rolled, slamming her palm on your alarm clock to shut it off. 

“You guys suck-I’m leaving for class.” 

“But… you’re in your pajamas?” you croaked, embarrassment flooding your cheeks, “He can get up, don’t leave!” 

Kylo grunted, “Like hell I am, I have a raging hard on right now I’m not getting up until it’s dealt with.” He looked down at you, eyebrows raised, “So she can leave or stay and watch the show.” 

The door slammed shut, there’s your answer. Kylo hummed with pleasure, peppering kisses all over your sweaty forehead from being crushed all night. He was only supposed to stay for a few hours, and yet you were lulled to sleep by his warmth. 

His nose crunched against your forehead with each kiss, stubble scratching your face over and over until he made his way down to the corner of your mouth. Pausing, “Do you care about morning breath or what?” 

“I…” you exhaled deeply, giving in, “It’s fine…” 

“Don’t act so sad, you’ve been curled up against me all night. I’ve been waiting to have those sweet lips on me again,” he licked his lips. Puckering dramatically before blowing a raspberry on your mouth. 

You couldn’t help but laugh at his corniness, humming back into his touch. Still crushed underneath him, his lips attached to you. Moaning obscenely when his tongue hit your palette, surprised that he wormed his way in there so fast. 

Rutting hips trapped you underneath, you placed your sweating psalm on his shoulder. Strong muscle flexing underneath you as the incriminating sounds of the bunk started creaking under the weight of both of you. 

Muffled by your mouths swapping together, your eyes shut in bliss. Letting him happily take the lead for whatever he wanted, your class could wait… 

Kylos lips popped off yours, panting on your temple as he reached a hand between your bodies. Angled on his shoulder, “Gotta move,” he grunted, “There we go, kept crushing my fucking dick against you.” 

Your face scrunched, about to protest when he ground down again and oh that felt good. His hard cock was pressing right against the apex of your thighs. Rubbing along the length of it between your flimsy fabric pajamas, you let out a soft sigh as he rocked back and forth. 

Met with a grin, “That feel nice? I can feel your hard little clit.” He kissed at the edge of your jawline, peppering the skin with sloppy, wet pops before nibbling down the column of your throat. Rocking getting harder against your wetting shorts. Your excitement begging to rub between your thighs onto his plaid bottoms. “Kylo, I think I’m gonna…” 

“Already?” he panted, “Doesn’t take much to get your little engine running. Shit, lets get some skin to skin.” 

Kylo sat back on his knees, his head hitting the ceiling in a loud thump. But he didn’t seem to care, unbuttoning the front of his bottoms to reveal his purpling hard cock. Pumping with one hand while the other shot out to grab the crotch of your pajamas. You gasped as his finger hooked underneath, skimming your wetness, “Ah-oh my god…” you whined. 

They were yanked down your legs, he swore under his breath when your knees knocked together to try and not ri[ them in two. Your legs fell back open, your slick cooling under his scrutiny, Kylo launched forward. His hot cock fell between you with a grunt and a gasp between you both, your wrapped a hand around the base of his neck. Fingers ripping into the long hairs that stuck to his nape, your legs already shaking from the oncoming orgasm that threatened to happen premature. 

You couldn’t believe he was on top of you, naked cock rubbing on your pussy. Kylo growled in your ear, “Hot pussy, I bet I could slip right in baby. You want that?” 

“Yes…” you teeth chattered together as you thought about clamping down on his length. You’d probably cum before he even got started. 

Kylos hips rocked against you, the head catching on your wet entrance a few times while he groaned into your neck. 

“I don’t know, baby.” 

He rubbed his cheek against your forehead, stubble scratching slightly from his overnight stay. You whimpered as the very tip of his slipped inside you for a moment, you felt all his muscles tense in the effort to not ram inside you. Why wasn’t he? Your brain fumbled through various questions while he popped out of you, only to find the spot once again where your bodies were menat to be connected. 

You jumped at the feeling of fingers on your clit, fumbling with it for a moment before they pinched at the hard nub. Yelping out while he shushed you, your legs bent in on themselves, toes skimming the ceiling in an effort to hold off on cumming, you wanted him inside you! You panted as he stroked up and down and back and forth. Humping the lenght of your right inner thigh with his precum staining the skin. 

“Kylo-please just fuck me.” 

He shook his head, bringing you in for a swift kiss before taking his fingers off your clit. Spitting in his palm while you laid there with an open mouth in awe. Your pussy tingled at the thought of him shoving his spit laced cock inside your waiting channel…”Kylo!” you ground out, “Just do it!” 

“I don’t think your desperate enough. I’m not sure if you just want to cum or if you really really want me to ram my cock,” he paused at the word, pinched hard enough for more wetness to slip out of you, “So hard inside your tight little pussy. I think you’ll just have to wait.” 

“Wait-what?” you babbled, rutting your hips up in the air to catching his fingers in a pathetic chase of release. You brought a hand down to try and help yourself, but only were smacked in response. 

“Don’t you fucking dare.” he stared at you sternly, “You’re not going to cum until I say so. And I think its about time for us to get up,” he swiped across your pearl, “And for us to go to class.” 

“But,” you started, shushed by his wet fingers on your lips. 

“Nope, don’t beg, its a turn off.”

Kylo rolled off the edge of the bed, somehow landing on his feet with his hard dick still hanging out of his pants. You watched with your mouth opening and closing like a trout, he turned to you. Making a mocking crying face, complete with fingers trailing his cheeks with tears, “Oh, you poor baby! Never had to wait for something in your life, come on. Lets get you dressed for class and then we will see if you get to cum today.” 

______

You got dressed together. 

Correction, Kylo dressed you in the clothes he wanted you to wear. Just to make sure you didn’t get any chance to get away and rub one out in the bathroom. He trailed right behind you everywhere throughout the sorority house. Smiling and saying good morning to all the girls that he passed in the halls while you stormed from room to room, irritated that he was saying hello to all the girls who he had fucked. 

While he left you hanging on the very edge, he was literally inside you and he did nothing! 

It was his idea in the first place, why did he change his mind? 

You thought over it while you brushed your teeth, together, at the same sink in the womens only restroom. Every one of your sisters giving you the stick eye when they saw Kylo looming behind you in the mirror with his own toothbrush that he had grabbed from Bazines old stash. 

Apparently, your president had been snecking him in for a long time and he had an abundance of clothes and toiletries throughout the house. Which he pointed out to you while you sulked, even Bazine got to fuck him… 

“Come on,” he whined, grabbing your forearm as you tried to get away for the tenth time this morning, “Let me drive you to class.” 

Kylo tried dragging you closer to his lexus parked on the front lawn. You scoped out the car, luxury, and practically brand new judging by how clean it was on the outside. Complete with two anime women stickered to the back windows. Their big tits right in whoevers face that pulled up next to him, you yanked particularly hard. 

“No, I want to walk. Leave me alone, Kylo.” you growled. 

He raised his hands, a scowl painting his face at your vicous tone. You regretted bursting at him, but you weren’t going to give in just because he knew you were upset. 

“Fuck-okay,” he placed his hands on his hips, “You’re sure a little bitch when you aren’t fucked. Do I need to come over there and spank you?” 

You flushed at that thought, he had dressed you in a short tennis skirt with no shorts underneath. He could easily lift you over his thigh and smack your skin until it blistered and bruised and you were writhing in his lap for more. You shook your head in protest, he wouldn’t dare. 

“I’m not-” 

“You think I won’t?” Kylos eyebrows shot up, moving in closer with calm steps, “Baby, I’ll make it impossible for you to sit in your lecture without thinking of my bare hand on your abused ass. You want that? Right here on the lawn?” 

You looked around, embarrassment coloring your cheeks when you saw all your sisters staring and dunking down from the windows. A few of them on the front porch looking the other way, even the houses on your block and across the street were watching the display between you and Kylo. You couldn’t imagine him doing that in front of all of them… 

“Are you going to be good and get in the car?” 

You nodded silently, shuffling to the passenger side of the car. Kylos long arm opened the door for you, pushing your head down to duck into the seat. He even buckled you in, you sat in silence while he peeled off the grass in a loud rev of the engine. 

“Thats a good girl.” 

______

Am I coming over today? 

You had sent the text. 

You’d been thinking about it all morning and throughout both your lectures, barely taking any notes despite it being your favorite classes to attend. All you could think about was your morning, and the absolute whiplash Kylo had given you with him feelings and desires, then calling you names when you didn’t get what you wanted. 

A few of your sisters had texted you saying that thats normal, Kylo was just strange. They all were surprised he hadn’t left you alone yet, apparently he was notorious for hitting it and quitting it. But he hadn’t even hit it! 

Typing, the little dots appeared and your heartrate picked up. What would he say? 

Why? 

Your forehead scrunched in irritation, what did he mean? You decided to be as straightforward as possible, tired of the games. 

What do you mean?

Aren’t we supposed to sleep together?

Who said that? 

Its not like we had a contract. 

But.

Look its Monday Xi, I have plans. 

Oh.

Your heart sank. 

Guess you were the exception to his hitting it and quitting it rule, he just wanted to quit it. 

Shit, babe. 

You can come over. I just have a date I can’t miss. 

Be here at 4. 

A date? 

What did he mean by date? 

Was he seeing someone?? 

Your heartbeat picked up intensely, thumping loud enough for you to feel it almost burst through your chest. What did that even mean? He had plans with someone, but still wanted you to come over? 

You thought about it the entire rest of the day, while you were standing in circles with your friends. Holding a cup of coffee in your hand, almost slack with your grip when youw atched the man himself walking in with other sisters, laughing and touching their shoulders. His eyes flashed towards you and you melted when he winked at you before moving on with his business. 

After catching a ride with a friend, you were standing at the front door of the frat house. Pushing on the open door like it was last time. Did they ever shut it? Was anyone else home? You’d seen Kylos car parked sideways in the driveway, but no one else was greeting you. 

Your popped your lips a few times, debating on if you should just leave, maybe call and say it wasn’t going to work out between the two of you. 

Its not like he was that into you-

“Xi,” Kylos voice boomed from up the stairs, footsteps fast as he came down, with a giant lizard on his shoulders. “You came, hi baby.” 

He came over despite you recoiling at the jarring display of the animal climbing over his shoulders and rubbing against his raised hand. Pressing a quick kiss on your cheek before he raced back up the stairs. 

Yelling as you followed up behind him, shivering as you thought about the animal. “Come on, I have a thing to do.” 

You rolled your eyes, he probably brought you here to babysit the crazy thing hanging on him, you’d just leave it while he was away. Maybe that would show him that you didn’t care-

His room was a mess. 

Clothes thrown everywhere, piles on the floor, around black furniture. A desk in the far corner, with a large gaming computer on top that glowed blue and red, a gaming chair that was black and red piled with books that looked liek they had been heavily read. The closet was open, with a dresser inside it with all the drawers half closed and plenty of trinkets and trophies on top. 

You looked around to the other side of the room, aside from his probably king sized bed being made. It was still just as messy, A large tank on top of another table, complete with a little habitat and sunning bed. A few stickers littered the tank but you couldn’t make out what they said. But they were pink and flowery… 

“Um…” 

Kylo turned to you again, holding the lizard away from you, “Sorry, I tried to clean but I didn’t have a lot of time between class and then I have to make this call… Um this is my lizard.” 

“I see that.” 

He held the thing out with both hands cradling it while it blinked at you. You squinted at it, noticing a small baby pink harness on its body. 

You were about to ask about it when his phone started ringing, he quickly turned away and threw the lizard on his lade bed, it curled into a small ball like a cat in a patch of sunlight. He pulled his phone into a stand, turning on his mounted TV, revealing the FaceTime screen from someone named-Booger? 

“Should I leave?” 

He shoot you a weird look, “What? No? Just sit down and be comfy, this will only be a little bit.” 

The TV loaded the other person, Booger apparently. A grainy image taking forever to connect while you tentatively sat on the edge of the bed, backpack slumping off your shoulders to the floor, you looked cautiously towards teh lizard. It paid you no mind other then what sounded like a purr in approval. It was a scaly cat, thats what you’d decided. 

Static crackled startling both of you while Kylo smacked the side of his sound bar, “Boog! Can you hear me? Fucking stupid thing, I need to buy a new one…” 

“Yeah I hear you.”  

A mans voice came through, along with the image of the person in question. A scrawny looking blonde kid, you squinted at the loading frame, dressed in what looked like school gym clothes? You scanned it more for clues, seeing glasses framing a large nose, and a skinny face, down to another lizard in the lap of whoever it was. 

He kinda looked like Kylo… 

“Xi,” Kylo turned around, moving to pet his lizard, “This is my little brother, Matt.” 

“Hi.” 

You waved a hand, relief singing through your veins, it was a facetime date with his brother. Not a real date with another person… you introduced yourself, relaxing back. 

Kylo picked up his lizard, cradling it like it was a baby, “We talk every Monday to let our girls see each other, and to catch up.” 

“Girls?” 

“This is Kira.” Matt lifted up his lizard, like it was a dog or cat under its armpits. The thing just licked its snout, Kira, was wearing a gemmed harness. 

“And this is my baby girl, Rey.” Kylo lifted the lizard in your face, met with another blank stare from one eye while the other stared into the distance. 

You breathed another sigh of relief, looking over at the tank to see the name Rey in pink bubble letter stickers. Along with a leash and maybe other pink collars hanging behind the tank, you chuckled a little as the boys launched into conversations about how the other was doing. Lizard maintenance, and when they would see each other in person again. 

Blacking out while it happened, you busied yourself with doing homework and typing up lecture notes you’d missed while in class today. 

There was something so domestic about it, you felt warm and fuzzy as Kylo leaned back into you while he listened to his brother talk about his day and the hardships he was going through being forced to go to weightlifting with his friends. 

You scratched at his scalp while he lectured Matt about body fitness and how he wasn’t supposed to sit at the computer all day. Which he countered with how Kylo sounded like a parent and not his big brother who plays video games with him. 

About an hour and a half had gone by before Matt was supposed to go to dinner with their parents. A few times you noticed someone walking back and forth behind the couch Matt was sitting at, maybe that was Kylo’s mom or dad? 

Kylo had said goodbye, putting away Rey before turning to you and cagin you in with an arm on both sides of your body. 

“Hi, baby.” 

“Hi, Kylo.” 

He leaned it, slowly shutting your laptop as he pressed his body on top of you. Kylo brought his lips to yours while you giggled as he got closer, pushing your items aside to fall towards the edge of the mattress. Pressing quick kisses to the corners of your mouth, “I missed you today, you looked soc ute int he outfit I picked out.” 

You shrugged, pressing his chest away from you, “You saw me thought, and didn’t say hi…” 

“I was busy with greek council shit, I can’t be next to you all day. Even though I’d want that.” 

“Oh yeah?” 

He kissed your forehead, pressing more of his weight on top of you. Your legs splayed out on either side of his thighs as he sagged, “Of course I do, I like you Xi. A lot. Wanna be with you all the time.” 

Your heart sang at that, flushed at the confession, fingers digging into the fabric of his sweater. You nuzzled your face into the warmth of his neck. Voice muffled, “I think I like you too.” 

Kylo purred at your words, pushing you back into the pillows on his nicely made bed. “Good, or else this would be awkward.” 

Suddenly he was on you again, kissing you with a passion that made you almost choke on his long tongue slithering across your own. Pulling on the edge of your shirt and quickly throwing it off your scrambling arms, revealing your push up bra he had insisted you wear. Because he liked how your tits looked in it. 

“Fuck, look at you.” 

He licked his lips, leaning down while your hands buried themselves in his long hair. Planting hot, suctioning welted on your heaving chest, canines scraping while you grabbed at his sweater to divest him off like your own. Revealing his broad chest, the same one you’d been thinking about since the last weekend when he was stark naked for your eyes to dance around his frame. 

Kylo pushed off your, mouth glistening with spit from his affections. He quickly dropped his pants with a clatter of his belt, yanking his boxers down his strong thighs and to his ankles. You couldn’t believe he was already naked before your very eyes, he nodded towards you. 

Quickly, you stood before him, unzipping your tennis skirt for it to pool on the floor with all his other clothes. Dropping your thong and bra with the rest when he launched at you, bodys clashing together in a passion youd never felt before. You felt yourself be lifted from the floor as he spun you around. Falling together into the bedding, you straddled his form, rubbing your slicking pussy along the length of his hardening cock. 

He groaned at the friction, you revelled in the roll of his eyes from the pleasure. You could get used to that look, Kylos paws fell to your waist. Pinching at the rolling skin as you leaned forward to latch your lips together. You swapped back and forth delicious salvation while you rocked your hips. 

Kylo rolled the two of you over, your head against the far wall of his bed. He grinned above you, moving his hands down to yank your legs open further. 

You gasped as he spat on your clit, “You’re just so wet, I bet I can slip right in. Can’t I?” 

“Yeah,” your voice warbled. 

“Lets see,” he shuffled forward on his knees, bringing his cock right into your entrance. Thrusting forward slightly, popping the seal of your wetness with a slick slurp of fluids. You whined, “Please-Kylo.” 

You were aching from being denied earlier today, desperate for him to have his way with you. It was something you know you couldn’t leave here without, Kylo nodded. Wrapping a palm around your mouth, spelling it off so no noise could make it out. 

“Can’t have you screaming, the neighbors already hate me.” 

You were going to protest, but the scream creeped up on you when he jammed his hard cock inside you in one swift thrust. Completely engulfing your pussy with its hot, probably more than ten inches, meaty girth, He didn’t let you relax, swiftly plunging in and out of your candy coated center over and over again while the bed rattled your brain. 

Bouncing around and held in place by just his hand on your mouth, your arms failed to latch onto anything to keep you from jostling. Your tits swinging with every grunted thrust. You wailed behind the palm, laving at it with your tongue, Kylo slipped two fingers inside your mouth. 

“Yeah-” he panted, “Fucking suck on them.” 

You doubled down your efforts, letting him jam them down your throat. Little noises fitting through the gasps while he panted above you. Eys snapping open and shut, you watched with dreamy eyes at his sweat beaded down his face to dripped off his nose to fall on your steaming skin. 

“Rub your clit baby, I’m so close,” he panted, “You’re too tight.” 

Your let out a muffled okay, swiping down on your hard clit in time with his grunting thrusts. 

“There it is,” Kylo groaned long and loud, looking at the wall abov eyou for a moment while his thrusts slowed down, “Cum for me baby, cum on your daddy’s cock!” 

You exhaled hard through your nostrils, rubbing harder as your crested the edge of your release. Gushing around his length as he buried it deep inside you, his throat catching on a groan as he came inside you in pulsing rhythms. Thrusting shallowly while you miliked his cock for every bit of his essence. 

Kylo placed his forehead on your bare shoulder, panting in hot breaths. Whispering out what a good girl you were, how hot you were, hot tight your pussy was, kissing a line towards your lips. Peppering your face with doxens while he thrusted in and out of you for the last time, your collective fluids gathering underneath you with a wet plop. 

He panted, smiling at you with a goofy grin as he cradled you towards his chest, pressing a few kisses on your forehead when he whispered…

“I hope you know you’re my girlfriend now.” 

_______

:)

[randomkposts]

In your opinion, would fem mello be a 'not-like-other-girls'

E:-  Mello might be like that unironically. 

K:- expand?

E:- Mello breaks the conformity of what is seen to be as socially acceptable in femininity

K:- and masculinity

E:-Mello as abrasive as she is, I can't genuinely add her with the misogyny attitude of 'I'm not like other girls' that is a sub branch of 'pick me' girls. Both are taken with the goal of putting down other women in order to elevate themselves. 

K:- you make a good point. 

E:- Especially with our Mello. Thank you!

I detest that sort of attitude since it's seen as a part of "feminism", but breaks it instead of strengthening it.

Besides that, Mello is Mello, she does her own rules and likes what she likes. She might've been coming off that, however she isn't going to make it her personality. 

K:-"I'm not like other girls" is putting other girls down in an attempt to differentiate yourself from them, at their expense. .. and yours. Have some solidarity.

E:-Lmao. When i read that last part I can imagine Mello walking away but turn around and jabs a finger at whoever is acting like this

"Have some fucking solidarity."

K:-"I l'm not like other girls, I'm not obsessed with makeup".

"Ok then, I'm sure you have your own weird obsessions that other people roll their eyes at you over, but you don't see me bringing it up as a topic of conversation with you."

E:-Also it does point out that yes most of our fem versions of L Near Mello and Matt aren't the usual form of "general" social acceptance however none of them are going to tear down other women who do follow feminine traits. 

K:-I don't do makeup really, but if someone has put the time into it to develop skill at it, then good on them.

E:-Especially ones like Takada, Naomi and yes even Misa can be added. 

Yes! That too! I love light and bright soft colors and dresses. I can't always wear them due to weather and work.

While yes if we wanna continue the ye old inner misogyny self hatred maybe Mello did have this stemming from other outer interactions outside of Whammy. 

K:-As foil to Mello, Light would do that unironically in the opposite way.

Light hates everyone in this, and will dunk on boys and girls.

"You've never played a video game?"

"What am I a boy? Why would I waste my time on that."

"You've never had a spa day?"

"I'm not like other girls, I don't waste my time on that" except not outloud, just inner monologue for both.

E:-As looking at Whammy.....they genuinely don't seem to give a shit about normalcy. 

They should invest in Social Public cues as a class mandatory seeing all their geniuses are inept. 

K:-"That kid can be a autistic as they want, all that matters here is that they can solve murders."

E:-Agreed. "As far as I am concerned, I take my studies seriously. Enjoy your spa, your nails seem to be neglected."

Mello can also toss that attitude with the best arm shot she can cause she has seen all types of geniuses at Whammy's so fuck that type of thinking. 

K:- A Class social ,as other people see it.

"I know half of you dont care to interact with other people in real life, but its important to learn how they think, to understand possible motives behind murders, if nothing else. So as stupid as it sounds, being possessive of another person under the guise of love, is plenty of reason to commit murder. Apparently. We will now cover that angle in detail."

E:-"Today we learn why humans tend to act aggressively to commit murder when they aren't receiving intercourse. And decide to blame women for their woes."

Hey, Funny thoughts like unrelated to this, DN needs you to accurately write names and correct face right. Imagine someone getting a face tattoo only to cover it with make up lmak. Lmaooo. 

K:-I think enough of a facial Tattoo might count as enough to mess with the Shinigami eyes, but I think something permanent like a tattoo would eventually count as a part of your face, in contrast to something temporary like a scarf.

E:-Yeah but like is anyone gonna check if you cover it with makeup consistently.

K:-It never came up in death note, because its set in Japan. It should have been a problem when Light had to interact with Amarica. I think it depends on the makeup. 

Like maybe if it was massive clown makeup or something. 

E:-I mean lets be real someone gonna have to done that at some point never update anyone kept it private. You seen makeup gurus right. Freaking magic with contours. 

K:-I don't know, Tattoos are not always something you can get in one session. 

E:-Small. Get a mini bee tattoo. 

K:-And they need time to heal. Would be hard to keep a secret. 

E:-Put a bandage and go "I got my ass handed to me."

K:-Several times in the same place?

E:-No, since tattoo's generally depend on how long it takes. Some can be done in a couple hours and can be small. 

Shit K I can tattoo a mini soup character and cover it up

K:-We are forgetting about fake tattoos! Which are temporary, and so changeable. 

E:-AHAHAHA! I was gonna bring that up but went meme later.

K:- wait. Let me look up the rules. 

"A side view of a person's face is enough to be able to see their name and lifespan. A person's eyes must be visible in order for it to work, but if they are wearing sunglasses while their entire face is visible, it will work. It will also work If half a person's face is seen vertically.

Circumstances where the Shinigami Eyes will not work to see a person's name and lifespan include seeing the back of a person's head, seeing the lower half of their face (i.e. eyes are not visible), and seeing their body but not their face.

A photograph of a person is also acceptable, and follows the same rules as listed above. The only exception to this is when the person in the picture is deceased, in which case their name and lifespan will not be visible. "

Or formally. -

"In order to see the names and life spans of humans by using the eye power of the god of death, the owner must look at more than half of that person's face. When looking from top to bottom, he must look at least from the head to the nose. If he looks at only the eyes and under, he will not be able to see the person's name and life span. Also, even though some parts of the face, for example the eyes, nose or mouth are hidden, if he can basically see the whole face, he will be able to see the person's name and life span. It is still not clear how much exposure is needed to tell a person's name and lifespan, as this needs to be verified."

E:-Mmmm

K:-Tattoos might not work

E:-If half is covered then they can't see it.No no wait

K:-But masking and wearing sunglasses would

E:-We aren't taking in people or ex convicts who do try to cover up half their tattoos. 

Who says a convicted man can't use foundation?!Society?!

*slaps hand on podium* NAY I SAY MAKEUP IS ARMOR!

K:-Nothing against foundation. But I think its getting at face shape being important. 

So the question is, would wigs, hoodies, or religious coverings be any protection?

I mean, a Burqa deff would be more then enough protection. 

E:-Oh totes. Man Covid fucks up Kira's day didn't it. 

K:-Yes. But just a mask might not be enough. So sunglasses to be safe. Mellos burn scar did not protect him from kira murder. Makeup would protect someone from Light, but not Misa, Is what I guess I'm saying. Or Mikami.

Sunglasses that would protect one from the shinigami Eyes, Eclipse!

E:-Damn hack eyes. Oh well guess its back to the traditional misspelling foreign names or wrong kanji. we gotta give those sunglasses to L. 

K:-Maybe If Misora had worn a wig, and makeup, Light would have ignored her. But she had no reason to go to that length of deception to the public at that point in time, as they still didn't know the how.

Look, If I could have a way to keep it without being killed by the shinigami fov being boring, I would be hard tempted by the Shinigami eyes. They get visual acuity of 3.6, or 72/20 vision, regardless of OG eyesight. 

Whether that is worth half of my lifespan is a hard question to answer, but the temptation would be real.

But like, Lights a killer who has his list, goes through it, and moves on. 

In contrast, Misa is more personally motivated, and Mikimai is more detail obsessed.They can just check the TV for pictures. Because Kira being able to kill through photograph sounds batshit to the average Joe, and people still need to know what the school shooters and ect look like, and maybe its easier if they are dead. And then enough of the public was on Kira's side that it never really died out. 

E:-True bur this is Japan. Who has no issues hiding child killers. And still maintains hiding killers faces even post trial. Or the issues with the European system as well doing the same.

K:-Canon Light goes for the surface crime.

E:-LMAO! He just skims Justice.

K:-He kills people who have commited crime and have their name and face available. He doesn't dig. Like, he digs enough to hack, but hes relying on the public a lot more then he would ever consciously admit. 

E:-If he needs details he has Mikami. 

K:-Thats not until part 2.

E:-True true.Ugh God imagine he used the power of 2chan. Japanese 4chan

K:-Like I mean, maybe by part 2 he has gotten better at looking past surface crime and for underlying issues, but If anything, I think the prominence of the cult and stuff means he might have gotten lazier.

E:-Light learning management

K:-I mean, Mello is out there running the mafia (in a vacancy that may be kira related), but that the Mafia still exists after years of Kira indicates that Kira is not as effective as he hopes it to be.Thd Mafia still being around and capable of abducting his sister, indicates that overall crime is not receding as he thought it might. 

E:-Oh no its full on rampant. He is dealing with surface crime. Not the actual big guys. 

Or corrupt politicians outside of Japan like the Philippines or Latin America or South East Asia. 

K:-Yah. The thing about both Light and L as figures of justice, is that they are holding up the current system they live in, not challenging or exposing it. 

E:-While I can't blame them for not digging in more it does add to the fact its not as deep as it could've done as it centers around justice and ego of man. 

K:-They are Justice, so they uphold the justice system as they see it. Light plays it by the socially conventional rules, where L goes off the socially (and often ethically) acceptable path to get the end result, which will be criminal caught. L cares about the journey, where Light cares about the destination.l, it's the same place, but different roads. They don't care why crime happens, just that they stop it. I guess I would say Justice is a core theme, but not the point in the story. 

In contrast, PDN is about Persona 5 and Death Note, so will explore Justice in a lot more detail.

E:-That crossover is gonna take so much brain cells.

K:- I know

E:-I am a monkey with a keyboard ,K

K:-Hey, Imagine if Death note had Nickajack

"Mello is running the Mafia from America". 

"Actually Sir it's worse. He's running the Mafia in Nickajack"

E:-I mean shit yeah that can happen they never had 9/11

Lmao lets make it real. Gotta commit to the DN crazy ass world logic. I snorted my coffee out with that Mello bit. I hope you're proud of yourself. 

K:- I am

[zwoelffarben]

Guess who's not done talking about They/Them

That's right, it's this blorbo enjoyer. Today, we're gonna be talking about Owen.

We'll start with an in depth at his opening monolgue, and how he fills his introductory speech with rhetorical strategies popular with gaslighters and weaponized progressive language to make the campers vulnerable because it's something I found deeply fascinating on my first watch: how he privately believe all kinds of monstrous biboted shit and then turn around and publically says all the correct well-rehersed words that nearly perfectly hide his cruel intentions.

"I can't make you straight. I don't wanna make you straight. Gay people are A-OK with me. If you're happy the way you are, then more power to you. "And I know what you're thinking. You hear the words "gay conversion camp," and you start to imagine all kinds of homophobic bullshit. Well, that is not what we're about here. And let me tell you another thing. "God… God doesn't hate you either. And any son of a bitch that tells you otherwise is a bigoted asshole. And that is officially the last time that you're gonna hear about the man upstairs. I promise you. "But I'm guessing that some of you are here because in some way you're not happy. Maybe you don't fit in. People make fun of you. Maybe you wanna find some new kind of peace, a new way of thinking about yourself. Well, you give us this week, and we might be able to help. And if not, just enjoy the sunshine, and work on your tan."

I briefly touched on its first section in my first analysis of They/Them here because it was marginally relevant to the discussion I had there on the symbolism of the establishing scene's composition.

But now I'm going to focus on the meat of this sections rhetorical strategy, which are the preemptively disarming statements (blue), progressive language (orange), presenting a false choice (yellow), and framing all his actions as being in the camper's best interest (green).

The main thing owen Owen does a lot here during his introduction, both here and throughout the other sections, is acknowledge the camper's expectations and subvert them. By acknowledging the expectations, he shows the campers that he understands what they assume about him, and then by presenting himself in a way that subverts those expectations, he disorientates the camper's initial guardedness, creating a crack in their armor. This is an important technique which can render people more vulnerable to gaslighting, which he and the staff use throughout the rest of the film.

He pepper's his speech with the kinds of language you expect from progressive person with a deep and nuanced understanding of gender, so far, the words "homophobia" and "bigotted" which he uses exclusively to imply that he doesn't hate gay people, but more notably later down in the monologue "safe space," and "gender normative lifestyle." While his language ain't exactly correct, oweing to the fact he doesn't believe a word of what he's saying to the campers and his real intentions and beliefs leak through just a bit, he's clearly studied and learned the language of queer progressives so he could easily weaponize it.

His rhetorical strategy is further enhanced by how he frames his intentions, as helping the campers find happiness, inner peace, or a new way of knowing themselves; he isnt trying to 'make them straight' but 'showing them their options' presenting himself as naively assuming that they might like being straight more than being queer, and that he might be able to help them get to that happiness. For some of the campers who came of their own accord, this works wholeclothe, and for others it doesn't work at all but it catches them off guard: and it's supposed to serve both those functions.

Lastly for this first section, we see him falsely promise the campers the ability to opt out of the program, reenforcing his rhetorical opening that he can't make them straight. By promising them the opprotunity to work on their tan, he gives them the false sense of security that if they don't like what he wants them to do, they can leave. Of course there's no real exit or opt out, but the promise of one is... disarming.

OK. Let me introduce you to my colleagues. They do all the real work. I just cash the checks. This is Dr. Cora Whistler. She is our licensed therapist, and as you might have guessed from the name, my wife. She who must be obeyed. Next to her is Nurse Molly who takes care of any little mishaps that may occur. Molly's new here, so take it easy on her. And that's Zane, our athletics director and a former student here. So, he knows all the ropes. And, boys, he's taken, so hands off. And that beautiful woman right there is Sarah, Zane's fiancé. She's our activities director, and she is going to keep you busy. Believe you me. And over here we have Balthazar. That's our handyman, all-around Mr. Fix it. Say hello, Balthazar! And that, finally, is old Duke. Duke is one old hound dog. So please treat him kindly.

In this section, we see Owen pulling and pushing his role as the camp's top-most authority. He very carefully establishes the authority of the camp verbally while offuscating the heirarchical relationship between the campers and staff from which that authority is derived.

Dr Cora Whistler is a liscenced Therapist who must be obeyed, Zane is the athletics director who knows all the ropes, Sarah is the activities director who'll keep them busy. Even Molly and Balthazar who're the weakest links in the structure are introduced by their titles to establish their place in the heirarchy.

But, contrast that subtle emphasis on the authority with what he not so subtlely asks the campers to do, which together with his 'request' that they please give him the opprotunity to 'help them,' are all he's asked so far in his interactions with them: take it easy on Molly and treat Duke kindly.

His joke about Zane's sexuality is carefully considered rhetorical point designed to disarm the campers and reenforce his first point that formerly "gay people are A-OK with [him],"

While he establishes his authority, Owen is playing a foot in the door salesman, peppering the group with innocuous requests to prime them to accept the larger demands both immediately as he makes his first demand and later on after he drops his established pretenses.

OK. I'm gonna need you to hand over all your cell phones and computers. As well as any medicines, narcotics, or cigarettes that you may have. Cell phones don't work out here anyway, and I'm glad to say that we don't have any Wi-Fi. So we are off the grid which will be a nice change, I'm sure. Molly, if you would. Thank you.

I'm gonna talk about the pink sections a little later in a reblog as it contrasts well with the first true dialogue we see in the film, and this first post is about Owen's monologue as a jumping off point for his character

OK. Let me tell you how the next week is gonna work. We have a number of planned activities and therapy sessions that we would like you to be part of. But other than that, you're on your own. We do have one hard-and-fast rule here. And it's about respect. We deal with some sensitive issues, and we expect you to treat your fellow students with care. And allow them their dignity. This is a safe space. For everyone. And this is the most important thing that I want to say to you. I know that many of you are here only because your parents made you. And while their intentions may be honorable, only you can know what's best for you. Because the idea of this place is not to come outmore straight or less gay. Of course we hope that through your time here you will discover a gender normative lifestyle that is authentic for you but… you must find your own truth. Let us help you do that. Please. Okay. So, uh, why don't you head to your cabins? Settle in. Unpack. We'll meet in the lodge in say, uh, a half hour and get started. Boys' cabin over there. Girls' cabin over there.

This section doesn't really have too much going on here that I haven't touched on before, as it serves primarily to transition smoothly from the heart of the monologue into the conclusion of the scene, but there's two interesting points left.

First, Owen admonishes the parents of the campers who were forced by their parents to come to Whistler Camp. It's again an example of a preemptive disarment (acknowledging their circumstances before they can state them), but more than that, he's planting the seed of the idea that he agrees with their intentions while disagreeing with their means.

The second interesting thing happening here that I want to draw attention back to is "Gender Normative Lifestyle." I touched on how it sounds like progressive language on the surface, and it does, but there's more to it than that: it sets up Owen's actual opinions, which will slowly be revealled to the audience as the mask comes off. Beneath the fauxcceptance he uses to introduce himself, he thinks he and his are normal, buys 100% into patriarchal cishetnormativity as the superior belief system (and the film will explore and flesh out his beliefs some), and think the campers are freaks that no one will care about when he hurts them.

Owen is the monster. He's just clever enough to appear well-dressed.

[eemcintyre]

"The Firm" (1993) review

*Baby's first published movie review

*At least 90s Tom Cruise is the height of pretty.

Right out of the gate, I can tell you that this wasn’t the worst movie I’ve ever seen. It had a few good points for sure that I appreciated- I thought Jeanne did a respectable job as Abby, and girl was serving even at the funeral with that hairbow. Holly was also criminally underused as Tammy, who was my second favorite character in the book to Mitch. I missed queen Tammy. The autumnal aesthetic was also popping off and made me wanna eat some crunchy leaves. The jazzy soundtrack was good as music in itself, but a confusing choice for this movie that did not fit the mood and kept making me think I was watching “When Harry Met Sally.”

And that’s the extent of my praise; time to roast now. This movie is, I think, one of the most significant examples of why book-to-movie adaptations are always cause for some level of alarm. I could feel the filmmakers’ contempt for the source material emanating from the screenplay. The way that they were changing things even as minute and unnecessary as characters’ last names (Hodge/Hodges, Knauss/Krauss) and hair colors (Abby and Tammy are both magically redheads) just for the sake of changing them. And that’s to say nothing of the way the movie versions of the characters are devoid of any sense of nuance, and weirdly, sin? In the book, Mitch was a really interesting and relatable character because he was a person with flaws and inner moral conflict. He cheated on his wife (in a slimier way in the book too, I might add- no white knight scenario where he saves the girl and tends to her injuries) but never ended up confessing it to her, instead choosing to live haunted with the secret. He’s also a lot more demanding about money from the FBI and steals some extra from the firm as well, while in the movie he just gets a half a million and calls it a day. Additionally, he has a thinly veiled hatred for Abby’s parents and the book goes into much more detail about his own estranged family. Finally, his motivation for taking down the firm in the book is mostly about saving himself and the few he cares about, and less about going on some one-dimensional moralistic crusade full of monologuing about justice and the wonders of the legal system. But all of these flaws are what made Mitch human and his story interesting to follow. For me, personally, it’s not at all intriguing to watch a ~good character~ do ~good things~ out of ~good intentions~. Somewhat related but kind of opposite is also what they did to Avery- he was great in the book as the hedonistic loose cannon with no scruples who was slowly spiraling. And then in the movie they thought it was a good idea to throw in some weird redemption arc where he ~shows remorse for his misdeeds~ that felt so forced. Plus, this is me being picky, but Gene Hackman as a womanizing dilf was just not doing it for me.

Then there’s the plot, which had perhaps the most egregious of all the artistic blunders. Who on God’s green earth’s idea was it to water down all of the crimes Mitch had uncovered that the firm and the frickin mafia were accused of to… overbilling? The only thing Mitch gives the FBI proof of is that the firm was overbilling their clients? And then the mafia never gets prosecuted at all?? And this is noble and good for some reason because Mitch heroically refuses to violate attorney-client privilege and be disbarred, which in his state does not include if one’s client is committing illegal acts anyway so he could have literally turned over the mafia and still retained his damn license??? And this is also all on the premise that is trying so hard to be deep and edgy and philosophical: “well who’s really the bad guys, the mafia or the lawyers who protect them, huh?” Bro really thought he had something there but, um… both? It’s both. Oh, and then there’s no consequences for any of the information Mitch has given and the people he’s crossed, unlike in the book where he has to start all over in the middle of nowhere and leave everything behind, on the bad side of both the mafia and the government. In the movie, and I wish I was joking, he and Abby just hop right back into their old dinged-up car from the beginning and move happily to Boston like “Wow, that was a weird few months.” Ummmm... huh???

Overall, speaking of bad guys and their evil doings, the sense of dread, malice, and suspense that pervaded the book is just not there. I was constantly troubled by the feeling that something was Not Right, but didn’t know what, over the first big chunk of the book, and then once you know what’s going on, the stakes are so high and there is such a complex web of characters and their motivations and goals that you can hardly stand the stress and excitement wondering what will happen (which you do not feel sure about until the very last page). Sharing much less sensitive information and being on the bad side of fewer people in the movie, it’s hard to feel very concerned about how things are going to turn out, because the whole situation just doesn’t seem like that big of a deal. Nothing like the life-and-death risks of the constant chase from motel to motel and car to car over the last third of the book while Mitch, Abby, and Ray’s faces are also plastered all over the news.

This is all, of course, if one can even understand what is going on, which if you haven’t read the book, is really freakin hard. They tried to compress a book that’s more than an inch thick into a two-and-a-half-hour movie, which, though ambitious, is not a wise idea, especially when the book is already so convoluted with all its legal jargon and trying to keep track of all the characters and who knows/doesn’t know what. Honestly, the plot would have been much better executed with a “Fatal Vision” type miniseries, even just two parts, but preferably three-to-four. But alas.

The last thing I want to say, before I sign off of this unexpectedly long and hardass review, is: can anyone explain to me what in the fresh hell the random backflip scene was about? Because I can’t figure it out to save my life and it haunts me.

[tresradiossolis]

💕💕💕

Let's compliment mutuals! — Accepting

[[ oh you broke the system by sending in 3 of em oh shit ]]

💕— @superrstardaycare

Naturally if you've been here for at least two seconds, you know I gotta start off this list with Andy. They're the first DCA I've interacted consistently with, and I've loved every moment of it!! Their DCA is just so full of life and personality, their headcanons are delightful, and it's so easy to come up with new ideas together (almost too easy, we've overwhelmed each other a bit hdbrbe). I love love the human verse with Mason and Orion, and whenever I see that I got a reply from them I get so excited. Absolute S-tier RP partner, if you aren't following Andy then what are you doing lol get on it

💕— @pizzaplex-mechanic

We've been writing a little back and forth and haven't gone Super far yet, but for what we've written, I really love the roleplays we have!! There's just so much in every reply, all the little details, the interactions with the world around the muse, the little inner monologues and the flavour that's added that probably didn't have to be, but I'm so glad it is... It's just Fun and I'm really glad we became mutuals! I hope to learn more about the purple bean down the line!

💕— @bluesthebest

Devi is gay pass it on.

No but Devi is my childhood friend who I've known for over 10 years now, and to not just sit here and gush about my BFF, I wanna talk about their roleplaying real quick! Cus ofc I'm excited whenever I see their stuff on my dash I'm super biased.

Devi is great at throwing in new ideas and twists into roleplays, and there's this energy in every muse I've ever seen them play. I haven't written too much with Blue yet (I will I just gotta respond to that one ask-) but I can see Devi's own personality shine through Blue, or maybe Blue shining through Devi? Maybe Devi took notes growing up while playing Pokémon who knows-

Devi is also the DM that runs our D&D games every second weekend (the other one it's my turn) and Devi's just excellent at bringing a sense of adventure, colour and unknown into roleplays, where you never know what the next thing that'll happen will be. If you want a wild time, go write with Devi!

[fbfh]

STAR ANON HERE... I'm just curious what are your fave emo bands....

STAR ANON MY BELOVED!!!!! HOW ARE YOU DOING I MISS YOU <333 first of all, amazing question. I know the defenition of the emo genre is a little loose, but my favorite emo/pop punk bands are currently palaye royale, fall out boy (obvs), and paramore.

palaye royale own this fucking ass okay. remington leith.... ooooh my god. he has singlehandedly made me reconsider my stance on rpf. vampire!remington???? oh my god. oh my god. if I could drown in his voice I would. his cover of closer my nine inch nails actually brought about the second coming of christ. at the very end of no love in la where he goes "I SAID THERE'S NO SUCH THING AS LOVE IN LaAaAyEeee-"????? dead. actually dead. the boom is one of the most beautiful songs I've ever heard in my life, line it up is my FUCKING ANTHEM, and dying in a hot tub live is my favorite video on the internet. I don't use the phrase "eargasm" every, but I genuinely can't think of any other way to describe remi's voice. Emerson is an amazing drummer and incredible artist (I am SO jelly of his ability to draw architecture) and Sebastian is a brilliant guitarist and is the brain cell posessor (and probably has to routinely keep remi from jumping off stuff and breaking a limb with only partial success.) the grittiness and sincerety and emotion in remington's voice really just scratches my brain in a way that nothing else does. If I could get his voice made into something tangible I would open my skull and rub my brain against it for hours. I fucking love him.

fall out boy need no introduction. "doing lines of dust and sweat off of last nights stage just to feel like you" from 27??????? lives in my head rent free. been into some of their absolute headbangers from american beauty/american psycho and infinity on high recently like novocaine, jetpack blues (i'm sorry but "do you reMEMBER HOW WE USED TO SPLIT. A. DRINK. itNEVermattEREDWHATitwas. I think." I WANT THAT TATTOOED ON MY FOREHEAD!!!!!!!), thriller (OFC) and i've got all this ringing in my ears all singlehandedly describe my brain chemistry. that's what dopamine sounds like. ALSO fourth of july will never not sound like season 3 of stranger things to me. yk all the promo art where they're all turning around???? that but in gif form while the first few notes are playing. I wish someone would make a slightly harringrove centric edit of the starcourt mall incident and the fair and everything. if anyone knows about any season 3 fourth of july edits PLEASE send them to me because "i'm starting to forget just what summer ever meant to you"????? pls

PARAMORE. FUCKING PARAMORE RAISED ME. paramore got me through my teenage years almost singlehandedly. I remember when after laughter came out. I fucking love this is why. It's almost all I've been listening to. all we know is falling???? brand new eyes???? literally paramore have ZERO SKIPS it's insane. also (maybe I just haven't heard of them) but it's really refreshing to have a female lead singer in a pop punk band bc (again as far as I'm aware) that's not as common as having a male lead singer and IF I COULD MAKE MY INNER MONOLOGUE BE HAYLEY WILLIAMS VOICE??????? PLS- listen all I wanted was you is amazing obviously but my heart?????? MY HEART?????? I wanna scream that at someone and mean it. bucket list. I can't even reccommend any paramore songs bc if I try to think of good paramore songs I'm just going to list their discography. no fucking skips and I stand by that. Hayley's solo albums also feel very twilight bella swan depression forest angst core which I FUCKING ADORE. first thing to go is tattooed in my brain, specifically paired with this scene from the greatest romcom of all time french kiss. match made in heaven.

also lip candy don't have a lot of songs out yet AS I AM TYPING THIS I JUST SAW THEY RELASED AN ALBUM????? BRB LISTENING TO THAT NOW but they sound like what I thought teenager music would sound like when I was a kid (like they nailed it fucking perfectly) and have a very nostalgic feeling and sound to them which I adore. if you stay home and never be the same fucking slap. they slap and a half. it's giving demigod adventurecore roadtrip music.

[the-new-hip-priest]

And she screamed out, kicking on her side, and said "I've lost control again"

I haven’t properly listened to Joy Division in a long time. I was going to say it’s because I haven’t felt this bleak in an equally long time, but that’s not true at all. I know in myself that I’m not happy. We’ve gotta do this one the long way, so bear with me before I inevitably delete this out of embarrassment.  I’ve spent the vast majority of my life trying to coexist with the constant noise in my head. It made itself known in early childhood and grew up alongside me. It wasn’t until my late teens that I discovered that this isn’t a universal experience and that most people have relatively quiet minds - an inner monologue wherein some negative feelings make themselves known and linger about, but certainly not to the point of interfering with day-to-day functioning. I always likened the inside of my brain to a bunch of radios set to different stations, all trying to drown each other out. It’s tricky to practice mindfulness while simultaneously trying to process (yet ignore at the same time?) the Party Boy Theme from Jackass, half of the chorus of “Do Ya Wanna Taste It?”, a vicious voice that is forever cutting me down and listing reasons why I’m a stupid useless cunt, the repeated phrase ‘the pheasant has no agenda’, a constant babbling whisper that insists things will never get any better, a family member’s voice belittling me and being cruel, Homer saying “Quit jivin’ me, turkey”, and then my actual thoughts.  It was very loud but I got very good at picking out my own real thoughts and questioning them. Gotta become aware of your automatic thinking patterns and whatnot. At some point, two key things happened in my life: I got an autism diagnosis, and I was prescribed lamotrigine for other issues. Things finally started to make sense and as time went on the noises began to fade out. There was a good period wherein I stopped drinking and went to the gym multiple days a week. I was feeling strong and looking good. Then I had to drop out of my diploma course and I started drinking again. Swings and roundabouts. Finally, I got a job - the last puzzle piece, the missing ingredient, the cherry on top! I had spent half of my fucking life struggling towards this achievement and...! And... ?! And now I’m a fat, miserable drunk with a steady income. I am not, by any means, turning my nose up at the poverty I escaped. I just recognise that I don’t feel any happier. I still don’t have goals or aspirations. I am simply tired. Tired, and always a little drunk. I don’t want to be here. I don’t understand why I am still here. I don’t hear all the noise any more because I’m too drunk to pay any notice. I can no longer focus on the individual thoughts, just the bad feelings. I realise now that I need that noise. I need to know what I’m actually thinking because otherwise I can’t address it and make positive changes. These days my head just buzzes and feels slightly off-kilter for obvious reasons. A bug zapper that instantly kills any self-awareness. I don’t have proper ‘thoughts’. I don’t self-monologue and explain things to myself. I don’t write, neither here nor in my journals. I just keep drinking and drowning these distant feelings. It’s like so much is wrong and bad that it’s all congealed together and I can’t break it down and analyze things. It’s this growing, pulsating mountain of negativity, like a fatberg in the sewers beneath London. I think I miss the noise. The noises taught me. The noises were harsh and cruel but illuminated the way forward. Now I’m merely deaf, blind, and dumb. I know that somuchiswrong! but I don’t have the clarity to make any of it right.  My psychologist was meant to write a letter to my new GP that explained my history with ~trauma and alcoholism~ so that I didn’t have to explain my entire personal history to a stranger all over again. I only put the tildes because I feel like the hardship and trauma I have experienced isn’t directly correlated to why I drink in the present. ANYWAY, that letter hasn’t been sent which means I can’t start Antabuse or similar treatment (valium is well-documented in my patient history to treat alcohol withdrawal but I highly doubt I’ll be able to get any this time around. My old GP was with me through everything, but my new one is, well, new. She has no idea what I’ve been through because nearly a decade of my patient history has been lost). I’m also waiting for a plan to be approved so I can get a rebate on the odd occasion when I can see my psychologist, because otherwise it’s about $200 out of pocket and I can’t afford that. These roadblocks have truly worn me to dust. I broke my phone this morning, too. Fucking expensive mistake, that one.  EUUUUGHHHHH. I don’t know. I’ll likely delete this later. I just had to get the shit out of my head. 

[drurrito]

enough

a/n: still working on my other stories, here’s a college au in the meantime

summary: Natasha does everything, but is it ever enough?

warnings: suggestive themes, cursing

————————

Natasha doesn’t believe this is happening.

“I just think we’re better off as friends,” there’s a flash of Steve’s signature All-American smile and she fights every urge to slap it into next Tuesday.

Natasha feels the familiar buzzing of anger under her skin, there’s another emotion swirling around too but she can’t quite name it. Maybe it’s relief that she doesn’t have to entertain his teammates when they crash his apartment for another 2k tournament anymore. Perhaps it’s sadness, knowing that he’s going pro after graduation and she can’t cash in on his sizable contract to fund her own ventures and make a future for herself.

She just knows she’s angry, why would anyone break up with her?

Natasha has been the perfect girlfriend, let alone the perfect girlfriend for a student athlete. Food prepping, massages, early bedtimes and long game days that started at the ass-crack of dawn. She did it all while balancing her own coursework and commitments.

She did everything he wanted and it still wasn’t enough.

“Anyway,” Steve’s voice cuts through her inner monologue, “I got practice, maybe I’ll see you around?”

“Sure, Steve,” she does her best impression of a smile and he gives her a big, genuine one.

Asshole.

“I knew you’d understand,” he turns on his heel and she watches as a girl flanks him, arm wrapping around his waist.

“Fucking hell,” Natasha mutters, she heads over to the coffee shop on campus, thinking the worst part of her day is behind her.

“Hey Nat.”

Shit.

“Hey Sharon,” Natasha turns away from the counter, coffee will have to wait.

“So Tony hasn’t done shit on the paper or the presentation.”

“Big surprise there,” Natasha crosses her arms and Sharon lets out a huge sigh, Natasha braces for incoming bullshit-

“Do you have time to meet tonight so we can wrap up this project without him?”

“You mean do his work for him?”

“Unfortunately.”

“Aren’t you friends with his girlfriend? Tell her he’s dragging ass.”

“Pepper hardly has control over what he does, plus she’s out of town so he’s without a handler.”

“Shit, fuck!” Natasha’s fingers furiously card through her hair, “fine, I’ll be there.”

“You’re the best, I owe you one,” Sharon’s shoulders relax a bit, she re-adjusts her bag and makes up an excuse about having a study group to leave Natasha alone.

Natasha grabs the drink on the counter and only gets two steps away from her spot when someone is already talking to her again.

“Excuse me.”

“What?” Natasha bites, your hands shoot up a bit in front of you, like you’re approaching a caged, feral animal.

“That’s mine,” you say, pointing to her drink, “here, Natasha, right?” you hand her the drink that was in your hand. She takes a moment to look at the cup in her own hand, her name isn’t on it, the cup you’re holding out in fact does, oops.

“Y/N?” she mumbles, gingerly handing over the cup.

“You don’t look like much of a tea drinker anyway,” you shake her cup in your hand a bit, she finally takes it with a less than gentle swipe of her hand.

“Thanks, sorry-” she doesn’t stick around for a second longer. You’re thoroughly amused as you watch Natasha trudge through a small horde of students, you’ve never seen a more prime example of someone having a rough day.

You take a sip of your tea before heading to class.

________________

Nat: He dumped me.

Hill: Aw, wanna talk about it?

Nat: No.

Hill: I’ll be there in 20?

Nat: See you then.

Natasha tosses her phone onto her bed with a sigh. Intimacy is last on her list of things she wants right now, but it will be nice to shut her brain off for a bit.

________________

“This was fun,” Maria purrs, pressing her lips to Natasha’s temple.

“You have to go, don’t you?” It was nice while it lasted, at least.

“Study group,” Maria flashes a guilty smile and slips out from under the sheets. Natasha barely watches her, fiddling with the sheets between her fingers while Maria gets dressed.

“I’ll see you later?” Natasha asks, she knows the answer already.

“Ah, actually I’m visiting my folks this weekend,” Maria grabs her backpack and heads for the door.

“I’ll text you when I’m back in town, later!” she skips out the door and Natasha just lays there for a while until she picks herself up to go to the next thing on her schedule.

________________

Natasha is halfway through doing damage control with Sharon when she gets a call from her sorority house.

“Yelena’s trashed, come be a big sister.”

“Can’t you just lay her down somewhere? I’ll be there in an hour.”

“Not a chance, and if she pukes anywhere but the toilet then you both are paying for it,” she lets out a groan as soon as the call ends.

“I’ll be right back,” Natasha starts to get up.

“Can I just send you what’s left? I have to head out soon too.”

“That’s fine,” Natasha tenses, of course she’ll have to finish this project on her own. She leaves the study room and only gets a few yards before she sees Steve talking to a table full of girls, his perfect smile glints under the dim library lights and it makes Natasha’s stomach do a barrel roll.

Natasha quickly ducts into another study room and stays against the door for about a minute, exhaling one shaky breath after the other.

“Coffee girl,” she turns to see you sitting at a desk with your head buried behind a laptop.

“Sorry-”

“No worries, I was just about to pack up,” you get up and follow Natasha’s line of sight.

“Steve Rodgers, what a babe magnet,” Natasha smiles just a bit at your sarcastic-lite tone.

“Until he opens his mouth,” Natasha mutters against the glass of the door, “terrible in bed too.”

“Oof,” you breathe out, “you just break up?”

“Only,” Natasha checks her phone, “12-ish hours ago.”

“Wow,” you stand there and watch him flirt with the table of girls, “he’s an idiot.”

That makes Natasha take her eyes off of the scene behind the door, a bigger smile on her face now.

Steve finally leaves and she takes that as her cue to leave.

“Gotta go, thanks for letting me camp out here.”

“Anytime,” you smile softly, watching her go.

________________

Natasha hunches over her laptop while Yelena snores loudly on her bed, at least she hasn’t puked yet.

She thinks about how Steve is the scum of the Earth for ruining her plans more so than hurting her feelings.

Then she thinks about you. It’s a small enough campus that it’s not uncommon to see the same person a few times a day in different places.

She just wonders why she hasn’t seen you sooner.

Deadlines, classes, meetings, and extra-curriculars pulling her in so many different directions--it’s no surprise why she wouldn’t notice you anyway.

Until she did.

Now you’re sticking in her brain like the day after a cram session.

You were a break in her day, moments where she didn’t feel the need to make herself useful, she just had to exist around you and it was enough, for you and for her.

With a jaw finally unclenched with a significant slack in her shoulders, she submits the project and goes to bed, dreaming about you.

____________

Natasha finds you by the cafe.

You’re in line when she walks up to you with a determination in her eyes and a sway in her hips that makes you flinch inwardly but you swallow your nerves.

“Hey.”

“You again.”

“Me again,” that gets you a half smile.

“Here to steal my tea?”

Natasha playfully scoffs, “actually, I was going to ask if you wanted to go somewhere else…for tea, or whiskey or…whatever. On me?”

“Oh, uh,” you exasperatedly suck in your teeth and she watches your eyes dart around for a few beats, her shoulders sink just a bit, maybe this was a-

“Absolutely, definitely, yes,” you grin, Natasha tilts her head in disbelief.

“You did that on purpose,” she points a perfectly manicured but accusatory finger at you. You don’t answer, instead your grin just grows wider.

“You dick, come on, before I change my mind.”

“You wouldn’t,” you feign offense, falling in step with her. She turns to look at you and the sight makes her lungs swell with a second wind and her bones settle into something new but comfortable—peace.

“No, I wouldn’t.”