✮⋆˙about: i'm 26 and i'm an wooyoung ult! i love ateez, svt, nct, p1h, skz, &team, etc. i've been a stan since 2015 but i recently started writing in my free time so bare with me ♡︎ my personal is @hausofwoopersonal (it was my main) so if u see that acc interact w u, that's me!
i love reader. idc if she’s a bimbo or a crybaby or a little unhinged. good for her tbh. i love her in all shapes and forms. she is barbie. she is a doctor and a student and a barista and she can take five dicks at the same time. what a beautiful world we live in.
summary: You're so excited to get the opportunity to sound design your favorite show, Hadestown. But the new lighting guy really knows how to piss you off.
warnings: 18+, minors do not interact, sound designer!reader, lighting designer!seungcheol, switch!reader and switch!seungcheol, fight for dominance, unprotected piv (don't do that), oral (f and m receiving), semi-public?, munch behavior, head pusher (SORRY IM SORRY), use of petnames (babygirl, sweetie/sweetheart, good girl, baby)
author's note: so hi. if you've noticed i've been gone for like months and months, no i haven't mind ya business. ANYWAYS this was a VERYYYYY indulgent fic bc as you may be able to tell i dabble in theatre. but im not a sound person, maybe one day ill do a fic from an actor perspective but something about being in the booth got me IDKKKKKK. also this would never happen and don't do this it's so incredibly unprofessional. and thank you to my betas, @hausofwoo and T, yall always have my back (and so does neo).
It’s always exciting getting started on a new show. The new people, new creative outlets, new ideas to try. After the last couple years of being a sound designer, you really feel like you found your groove when it came to jumping into a new show.
This is a theatre you have worked for a few times before; a small one but it paid the techies well and even got you some union points.
The production manager, Moonbyul, was a longtime friend and had called you in to sound design Hadestown. You had to say yes, of course, to one of your favorite musicals. You had seen it on Broadway a few years before and fell in love with it, especially the production design of it all.
Moonbyul had also mentioned that they were bringing in a new lighting designer. The last one you had worked with was very lovely, but also an older man that would fall asleep between cues so probably for the best…
At the first production meeting, you were eager to get started and fire off all the great ideas you had for the production, so you wanted to get there early to get all your notes organized.
You walked into the theatre about half an hour early, expecting to see Moonbyul and Vernon (the stage manager) running around, but they were nowhere to be found.
You set your stuff down in an audience seat, and head to the stage. It had been a few years since you had been on this side of things, but it always gave you a rush to see the audience from this view; standing center stage.
Retiring from performing was not an easy choice, fueled by hate and trauma and self-judgement. But when it was time to leave, you found a space in sound design. Being taken under the wing of a longtime mentor, Jihoon, made everything come to you easy and you’ve been hooked ever since.
Even though the stage is dark, you can close your eyes and imagine the audience in front of you, lights shining, costume sparkling. You hum a few bars of “Flowers” to yourself, slowing your breathing and your brain for just a second.
BOOM. A bright light cuts through your vision. You hold your hands up in front of your eyes to shield them before you open them.
“What the heck??” you shout at whoever is in the booth.
“Sorry, sorry.” says a voice, the light too bright for you to make out a face. “You just looked like you could use a spot.”
“I’m good thanks…” you answer back coldly.
“Alright, but just know you look great from up here. Made for the stage.” the voice says.
“Thanks..” you answer under your breath, not sure how to react to the obvious compliment.
The spot shuts off and you blink a few times to adjust your eyesight. Standing in the booth is a figure, a taller man with broad shoulders. But it's still too dark to see his facial features.
It seems as if he’s just standing there… looking at you.
“Um… can you bring up the house lights?” you ask him.
“Oh yeah! Sorry..” he responds. The house lights come up a second later. “I’m gonna come down there, hold on one sec!” he says.
You step off of the stage, a little embarrassed you got caught lost in a daydream. You walk over to your stuff, digging through your backpack to get out your Ipad and pencil, if only you could find the damn thing…
A tap on your shoulder startles you and you turn around in defense. In front of you stands maybe the most beautiful man you’ve ever seen. His hair was long, his bangs perfectly framing his dark, deep eyes. And man were those shoulders broad… he could probably pick you up and throw you around a little….
You were staring.
“Um.. sorry you scared me.” you said, trying to cover up your obvious gawking.
“No you’re good, I tend to sneak up on people. I’m Seongcheol by the way, nice to meet you.” he holds out his (very large) hand for you to shake.
“___” you respond, and take his hand. You’re too stunned to even move your hand to shake his, but he holds your hand strongly and commands the handshake.
An obvious indicator that he can take control.
You shake away that thought, remembering the pact you made with yourself to stay far far away from another showmance.
Your hand is still in his, and his eyes have not left yours. Has time slowed down?
“Good, you guys have met!” says Moonbyul, walking down the aisle where you guys were standing, Vernon trailing close behind. Seungcheol lets go of your hand and quickly turns around to face them.
“Ready to get this meeting started?”
The rest of the production team trickles in and the production meeting promptly starts; Moonbyul is not one for tardiness.
All the designers give their presentations, and this is always so exciting for you. To watch the production blossom from pieces of paper to onstage art is a beautiful thing. You especially love the costume designers concept of using color to show contrast between the human characters and the god characters.
Finally comes Seungcheol’s presentation. He opens up his laptop to a lighting program, already set with the stages dimensions and the set design and presses play. He explains while the lights change from scene to scene, full of color and different gobos to add texture.
There is obviously a lot of thought put behind this design. He is extremely talented. And hot.
His presentation finishes and it’s obvious how his shoulders relax. Those broad shoulders. He must not like being the center of attention, you think.
It’s your turn next, so you shake the thoughts of him away before stepping in front of the others with your laptop in hand.
You are always very prepared, already having the mic plot done and the sound effects downloaded to the board. You are super excited to present your concept for the final song- I Raise My Cup. Having seen the show on Broadway, you have a good idea of how the audience will react to the final scene of the show. Complete silence. So your concept is to have the characters sing this song with no help of the mics, completely acapella and completely raw.
“But what if the audience claps?” Seungcheols voice shoots through your confidence.
“They won't,” you reassure.
“But they might, and then what? We won't be able to hear Persephone and then the rest of the cast will be thrown off for the rest of the song,” he pushes.
“I promise, that won’t be a problem. The audience will be stunned by the heartbreaking ending, they won’t know what to do.”
“I don’t like it,” he says blankly.
Okay maybe he’s not so hot anymore.
This little shit is totally bursting your bubble, what the fuck? You were so proud of this idea, why did he have to embarrass you in front of the director and entire production team??
“Let’s put a pin in that one. Thank you for that great presentation, let's move on to props!” says Moonbyul, cutting through the tension.
You take your seat next to Seungcheol, but not before shooting him a piercing scowl.
He leans over to you once you sit down. “Hey, no hard feelings. I'm just a skeptic, ya know?” he whispers over the presentation.
“Yeah well next time please keep it to yourself. Some of us are trying to make a name in this theatre,” you shoot back.
The rest of the meeting is spent with your arms crossed, trying not to melt into the smell of Seungcheol’s cologne, but rather hold steady in your annoyance with him.
The next day is the first day of rehearsal for the cast, and although you aren’t called, you decide to come in to organize the booth a little bit.
They’re learning music on the stage, so you open the booth window so you can hear the cast sing. The music of this show is so beautiful, so romantic. It's nice to listen to while you work.
It’s when the actress playing Eurydice starts singing Flowers that you space off, lost in the beauty of the song. If you were still acting, this role would be a dream role for you. Of course you belt this song all the time in your car.
You start to sing along under your breath, knowing that no one will hear you up here.
Flowers, I remember fields of flowers, soft beneath my heels
You sing to yourself, imagining a beautiful field laid out before you instead of a 10-year-old soundboard.
I remember someone, someone by my side. Turned his face to mine, and then he turned away, into the shade.
In the field of flowers, who pops into your head but Seungcheol. That asshole is so damn beautiful you can’t help but imagine him as your Orpheus.
The song finishes out with the final notes and you sigh as your day dream dissipates, shaking away the thought of ever seeing Seungcheol in that way and returning back to the box of mystery chords you were wrapping.
Someone clears their throat behind you. You really hope it's Vernon.
“Didn’t know you could sing?” says Seungcheol from behind you.
“I don’t anymore.” you reply coldly, not really interested in conversing with him.
“You should, you have a beautiful voice,” he says.
You turn away from him as he comes to the lightboard next to you, hiding your blush.
“Thanks,” you say, trying not to show too much emotion in your voice.
Silence fills the space as he pulls up a chair and opens up the light programming app on the desktop. You direct your attention back to your cords that connect to god knows what.
“So about yesterday…” he starts.
“Yeah, that was a dick move,” you blurt out. Maybe not so direct next time.
“Look I get that you’re upset, but I just call them like I see them. I get your idea but I don’t think it's gonna work. What's wrong with a little bit of criticism?” he asks.
You take a breath before you turn to him and give him a piece of your mind.
“What’s wrong is I don’t know what gave you the idea that I asked for criticism. I’ve been working at this theatre for a long time, you’re still fresh meat. Really isn’t a good look to come flouncing in giving everyone unsolicited criticism,” you spit at him.
You get so worked up that you stomp over to where he is sitting on the other side of the booth. The look on his face is unwavering though, in fact it turns into a smirk as he stands.
He is easily a foot taller than you, looking down at you without closing the space between the two of you.
You feel so small. You swear you feel yourself throb.
“Someone’s got their panties in a twist,” he says, still smirking.
You are stunned, mouth falling open but no words coming out. That sentence has never sounded sexier.
“It’s alright, I’ll be nicer to you from now on, knowing how sensitive you get.” he says, leaning down to whisper in your ear for extra effect.
And then the asshole just walks away and sits back down as if nothing even happened.
You’re still frozen in place, in shock at the intense flirting that just happened.
“So, you said you have worked here for a while, how have you liked it?” he asks, continuing the conversation with no indication of what just happened.
This is going to be a long day.
After a few hours of genuinely torturous small talk with Seungcheol mixed with palpable silence, you decide to call it an early day. You got almost nothing done, besides wrapping and unwrapping a bunch of useless cords and clicking on random folders on the sound desktop.
As you leave, he promises to see you tomorrow and sends you off with a wink that makes your knees weak.
The next day, you get there later than usual. The cast is learning blocking in the dance studio, giving the techies free reign of the stage for the afternoon.
You’re hoping your tardiness will allow you to avoid the overlap with Seungcheol and you can have the booth to yourself.
But, no luck. There he is, sitting in the rolling chair at the lighting desktop in the sexiest skin tight compression shirt you’ve ever seen.
You don’t even realize you’re gawking when he turns the chair around. “Like what you see?” he teases.
You come back to your senses at his words. “You wish,” you grumble as you head to your station, hoping to get some work done today.
You swear you hear him scoff as he turns back to the desktop.
“Blackout!” he shouts down to the set people on the stage, as he presses the “next cue” button. A series of “thank you blackouts!” follow, in proper theatre etiquette.
You keep quiet though.
He goes through a few more cues, calling blackout a few more times, and you still don’t say anything.
“You know, it’s proper manners to say ‘thank you’ when I call blackout,” he points out after the 4th time.
“What do you know about manners?” you grumble under your breath.
He crosses over to you, again smirking, as he says “Enough to know that you need to learn some, baby girl.”
Shocks of electricity go straight to your clit.
“Don’t call me that, get that stick out of your ass, and fucking leave me alone Seungcheol!” you shout, unsure if you're more angry or turned on or both.
You grab your stuff to leave in a hurry, all the while he doesn’t move from his spot where he’s standing; just leans against the counter and crosses his arms to watch you angrily throw stuff in your bag.
You turn to leave, expecting him to apologize for his inappropriate comment. But when you turn to look back at him, all you see is him looking at you with that stupidly sexy smirk on his face. He waves a finger at you before you stomp down the stairs and out of the booth.
You text Moonbyul and Vernon some bullshit excuse about period cramps and that you have to leave early, before going home and using up all the battery in your vibrator.
Saturday no one is called, so you use this as an excuse to go in and pick up where you left off before leaving in a huff.
Luckily you have keys, so you let yourself into the empty theatre and up to the booth.
It’s really nice to work in the silence of the empty theatre, only the ghostlight lighting the stage. You leave the ceiling light off in the booth, only leaving on the string lights you and Jihoon added to make the space more cozy.
You put on your headphones and get to work. The music director sent you a recording of the cast singing, so you make sure all your cues align with the music.
You work for about an hour before it's rudely interrupted by Seungcheol lifting one side of the headphones off your ear. You feel his breath on the shell of your ear, sending shivers down your back, before he whispers, “Boo.”
Jumping out of your chair a little bit, you snatch his hand away from your headphones and turn back around without a word to him.
“Sorry to scare you,” he giggles. “I just forgot my charger last time.”
You give him no reply, not interested in potentially entering another conversation where you leave dripping.
“Actually, would you mind if I stayed and worked on a few things?” he asks.
Again, you don’t respond.
You see him shrug his shoulders in your peripherals and sit down in his chair to get to work.
Both of you sit in heavy silence as you work, and the more silent it is, the more you feel the tension rise, with anger burning in your chest.
What is the deal with this guy? Does he like just getting a rise out of people? Why does he feel the need to torture me? What did I even do to him??
“Gum?” he asks, holding out a pack to you.
“What the fuck is your problem?” you shout back.
He looks stunned as he takes a piece out and unwraps it, popping it in his mouth. “So, no gum then…”
“Why do you treat me this way, Seungcheol? It’s fucked up,” you shout, moving towards him to really give it to him.
“Treat you what way exactly?” he asks slyly.
“You just keep saying annoying shit to me, pushing my buttons and pissing me off. But then you make me leave every conversation so turned on that I can’t even think straight. I don’t get it, what is your issue with me??” You shout at him.
He looks at you in silence for a second, his expression unreadable.
“I… turn you on?” he asks.
Oh shit. You may have revealed a bit too much….
“I… what? I didn’t mean to say that,” you stutter.
“Oh well in that case… it won’t mean anything to you if I do this?”
He stands up and turns to face you, arms leaning against the countertop, caging you between them. You swear you see the veins straining against his skin, bulging out from his thick arms as he moves closer.
He leans in close to your ear, breath fanning down your neck. You’re frozen in place, trying to focus on slowing your breathing.
“Jump,” he says. And you do, hopping up to sit on the counter. Why did you just obey him??
“Good girl.”
Oh that’s why.
“Now,” he starts, his lips moving all over your neck, so close but not touching as he breathes the next few words onto you.
“I’m really curious to know exactly what it is I do that turns you on?” one of his hands snakes up the side of your thigh, dipping just slightly under the skirt you’re wearing and playing with the edge.
“Can you tell me, baby girl?” he says before he licks a stripe up your neck.
You shudder and lean into him a little bit. It’s over for you now.
“Say the word and I’ll stop,” he says, hovering in front of your lips now.
You grab his arm to stop him from moving back. “Please,” you say in a desperate voice.
His lips meet yours, and slowly he starts making out with you. His big lips make it sloppy, but it's so hot you could care less.
He sneaks his tongue into your mouth, swirling around yours so sensually it goes straight to your throbbing pussy. He snakes his hand into your hair, guiding your head with his big hand to deepen the kiss.
The strap of your tank top falls and before you can put it back, he takes the opportunity to bring it down even more, revealing your bare breast to him. He pinches your nipple between two fingers, lightly twisting it enough to make you whimper into his mouth.
He pulls away after a few seconds, a string of spit connecting your lips. You look up at his large frame through your lashes, breathing heavily.
And then he does something you don’t expect. He drops to his knees.
He grabs your ass and forcefully pulls you forward on the counter to access you better. You know he can see the wet spot forming on your white panties, and try to cross your legs out of embarrassment.
“Absolutely not.” he says in protest, snaking his arms underneath your thighs and grabbing them so you’re practically sitting on his shoulders.
He kisses up and down your thighs, not yet touching you where you need him. You whine and wiggle your hips, attempting to bring him closer.
“Someone really does have their panties in a twist…” he smirks from below you. That little shit.
He barely gives you what you desperately need, lightly kissing your clit through your panties.
“Cheol, please…” you whine, attempting to get him to give you a little bit more.
“Babygirl, I know you can beg better than that,” he says, lifting his head up. He keeps a finger pressed to your clit as he talks, rubbing in small, torturous circles.
Your cheeks heat up, probably turning red. You’ve already given in to this annoying shit, there’s no way you’re begging for him. You just whine in response, not willing to give him what he wants.
“You sure you don’t want to beg for it?...” he questions slyly, while at the same time moving your now completely wet panties to the side.
He gives your pulsing clit a few kitten licks, just enough to give you a taste of what you could have, all while never breaking eye contact with you.
You whimper at the contact, starting to reach out your hand to grab his head and pull it closer. He knows what you're up to, though, and grabs your wrist, forcing it back to its place on the counter.
“Now try again baby, beg for what you want.” he says, slipping your panties off in anticipation.
You sit there a minute, chest already heaving with desire, dripping all over the counter.
“Please Cheol, you know how badly I need it. I deserve it after all the shit you put me through,” you say, the words tumbling out of your mouth before you can think about them fully.
He raises his eyebrow at you, smiling that stupid fucking smirk that makes you shiver. “Oh is that so?” he questions.
And then he dives in. It’s as if he has been eating your pussy for years, somehow finding the exact rhythm and pressure on your clit that makes the string lights turn blurry. His arms are wrapped around both of your thighs, as if he was trying to choke them out.
You grab the back of his head with one hand, and start rolling your hips into his mouth, chasing the high that is hurdling closer. He loves it, judging by the way he growls into your pussy, barely pulling away to mumble “fuck yes” before plunging two fingers into you.
It only takes him hooking them into your g-spot a few times along with flicking your clit with his tongue before you are cumming into him, gasping and not letting go of the tight hold you have on his hair.
He pulls away, resting his head on the inside of your thigh, breathing heavily as if he just ran a marathon. His plump lips are completely drenched with your wetness. He looks up at you through his lashes, as if you were a goddess.
Oh, it really is over for me.
“Stand up,” you order.
He questions you at first, but then gets the message when you hop off the counter and drop to your knees.
He pets your hair, towering over you, but not unbuckling his belt like you so want him to.
“You really don’t have to, baby. But it’s so sweet seeing how compliant you are.” he says with a slight smirk.
“Shut up,” you say, all the while undoing his belt. He continues to pet your hair, watching your every move.
You pull his cock out of his boxers. It's perfect; long but not too long, and slightly curved upwards. He’s definitely a fucking munch seeing how much it's already dripping precum.
You hover your lips around the tip, kissing it lightly. He hums above you in approval.
“Now, it's your turn to beg for it.” you tease, pulling away from him.
He chuckles from above you, fucking chuckles, before grabbing the back of your head with more force than before.
“Oh sweetie, I don’t beg.” he says, before pulling your head forward onto him.
A head pusher? Yeah… But for some reason, this time, it was the hottest thing he could have done.
You get to work, watching his mouth drop open in pleasure while you work your mouth up and down his length. You cup your tongue around the underside of him, pulling out every trick in the book to try and get the upperhand in this fight.
He’s very obviously enjoying it, moaning loud enough for anyone in the theater to hear and eyes locked into contact with yours. He swipes his other hand through his bangs, which are now collecting the sweat from his brow. God he’s beautiful.
Even though his hand is holding your head down, you still have full control, so you slow down your pace just a little to try another trick.
You bring your hand up to cup his balls, lightly squeezing and tugging to bring him closer. You feel his cock pulse in your mouth at the added pleasure.
But nothing could’ve prepared him for your next trick.
You slowly trail your finger backwards, lightly circling his rim to test the waters. But before you can even think about going further, you hear a gargled moan come from him, and he pulls you off your knees by your hair.
Your face meets his, foreheads touching, but you divert your eyes down, scared you may have crossed a line.
“Why the fuck are you trying to make me cum before I get to feel that pussy around me?” he asks.
Your cheeks heat up knowing that it worked, filing that info into your head for another time.
“Turn around,” he barks, but you stay still. You bring your eyes up off the floor to meet his, determined not to let him win the struggle for control.
“Funny if you think I’m going to let you fuck me from behind right off the bat.” you say, trying to put power behind your words even though you feel so little in his arms.
“Oh, well then what’s your alternative sweetheart?” he cuts back at you, as if humoring you.
“Take this off,” you say, tugging at his shirt, “and sit down.”
“Hm… but aren’t you going to take anything off too?” he asks, pulling away and pulling his shirt over his head from the back of the neck.
You get distracted by his toned stomach, your retort getting stuck in the back of your throat.
He giggles at you again, before stepping forward and grabbing the hem of the crop top you were wearing.
“How about, we take this off, but leave the skirt on?” he says, dragging his fingers along the bottom of your shirt, waiting for your consent.
You nod at him, and he swiftly lifts the top off of you, leaving you in your skirt and bra.
He silently backs up into the chair, sitting down and draping his thick arms over the arms of it.
You slowly walk towards him, really wanting to drag this part out, before you lift up your legs to straddle him in the chair.
You hover over his cock, but before you drop down, you make eye contact with him. He’s staring into you, as if looking into your soul, and you stutter your movements, all of the sudden getting nervous.
It’s as if he senses the nerves, and brings a hand to the small of your back, trying to reassure and ground you silently.
You reach your hands up to cup his cheeks, before leaning in to kiss him. This one is different though, not like the intense one before. This one is slower, tongues just brushing over each other. Kissing like you have all the time in the world.
Your hands tangle in his hair as you slowly sink onto his length, pausing the kiss to moan in each other's mouths.
As you bottom out, he holds your hips in place, not allowing you to start bouncing. “Just give me a minute, baby. You feel too good.” he sighs out.
You find it endearing how close he already is just from the kiss, and as much as you are tempted to start the game of control back up and just start bouncing, you stay still.
You press your body against his in anticipation, so that your stomachs are pressed together. He feels so warm against you, and his arms circle around your back as he lets go of your hips.
You take this as a green light and start bouncing on him, never breaking the contact of your forehead against his.
He fills you up soooo perfectly, the curve in his cock dragging so deliciously along your g-spot. You can’t help but to speed up, the sounds of his balls slapping your wet pussy fill the booth.
He’s circled his arms around your hips now, grabbing your ass and basically moving you up and down on his cock without you having to do any work. But even with that, the awkward position makes your legs burn and you start to slow down.
“You getting tired baby?” he asks, and you nod. “Do you need me to help you?” he asks, to which you nod again.
He wraps his arm underneath your thighs and picks you up out of the chair as if you weighed nothing. You knew those arms would come to good use. He sets you down on the edge of the counter before entering you again.
You keep your arms wrapped around the back of his neck as he starts thrusting into you. This angle is different than before, allowing him to directly hit your g-spot every time.
His pace is somehow way more effective at pushing you to the edge than your own pace was, and you find yourself getting desperately close to your second orgasm.
It’s as if he can read your mind, or it's probably just him feeling your pussy pulse around him tightly, but he smirks to himself. Almost too small for you to notice. But you do notice, and next thing you know he is pulling out and jacking his cock off in between you both. You whimper at the loss of him filling you up.
“Help me cum and maybe I’ll let you cum again when I get you in my bed tonight,” he breathes out heavily.
You huff out in frustration, but unfortunately, you are completely under his spell. You reach in between you both and take over jacking him off. Your other hand snakes around the back of his head, pulling it down towards you so you can whisper in his ear.
“Maybe if you make me cum again tonight, I'll let you fill me up.” you whisper in his ear.
That sends him over the edge, and he grabs the counter as he stutters in your hands, cumming all over your skirt.
You giggle as his orgasm trails off. “You owe me a new skirt now I guess.” you say.
He catches his breath before scooping you up into his arms again. “I’ll buy you a hundred new skirts if you suck my dick my like that again.”
With another giggle, you peck him on the nose. “So, does this mean I won the fight?” you ask.
“I don’t know what makes you think that babygirl,” he chuckles as he sets you down.
He hands you your shirt before finding his own. Still a gentleman even when he’s being an asshole.
A door in the theatre opens, scaring the shit out of both of you. You both scramble into the spotlight room to put your clothes back on out of sight of the huge window.
“Hey guys! I know you’re here! The director just emailed me back with some tech notes.” Vernon yells from the audience.
“Okay come on up, it's unlocked!” Seungcheol yells down to Vernon from the enclosed room, now fully dressed.
He pecks you on the lips before rushing out of the room to his seat at the counter. Which you just fucked on.
You scramble to clean off your skirt with a tissue before rushing to your own chair and sitting down. But it isn’t until you sit down that you realize, you’re still not wearing panties.
It’s as if Seungcheol reads your mind and you both lock eyes in terror. There are your panties sitting in the middle of the counter.
The door opens and Vernon starts walking up the stairs to the booth as Seungcheol grabs your panties and haphazardly stuffs them in his pocket.
“Hey guys, glad you're--” he stops in the middle of the sentence. “It smells like dick in here what the fuck??” he exclaims.
You hid your face, scared you might burst out laughing.
Seungcheol takes the heat for you though, explaining it off as him leaving some leftovers in here overnight.
Vernon takes you both through some notes before leaving, with a peculiar expression on his face.
Something tells you he has a suspicion, and you might be hearing some rumors tomorrow thanks to the nosy theatre bitches you surround yourself with…
It’s silent for a moment after Vernon leaves, before you both burst out laughing.
“Okay well that was fun, but I’m getting my chair all wet. Can I have my underwear back now?” you ask after the laughter dies down.
“Um, absolutely not! I’m keeping these,” Seungcheol says with a wink before turning back to his desktop to finally get to work.
And later that night, you both get what you promised.
a/n: thank you for reading, and please reblog and leave feedback! 💕
AHHHHH support my bestie with her new fic! cheese im so proud it’s so good!! totally captured the theatre vibes ugh i love a showmance (even though they’re always toxic lol)
summary: you move into a shitty apartment with a long list of maintenance issues. your landlord puts off sending someone to fix them, only making your frustrations grow. that is, until the maintenance man finally arrives and you discover that he's hot... and you find yourself making excuses for him to keep coming back.
warnings: 18+, minors do not interact, maintenance man!san, tenant!reader, reader is kind of a perv lol, unprotected piv (wrap it up!), oral (f receiving), san is a tease, fingering, hair pulling (m receiving), cumplay, kitchen counter sex!!!, he kinda throws u around hehehe, choking, dacryphilia, use of a petname (baby), lmk if i forgot anything!
author's note: umm.... hahaha um...... so this is lowkey based on a recent experience i had of my maintenance man coming to fix some shit in my apt and he strangely had SO much rizz and i was like wait a minute.... this could be a great fic idea LMAO thank u to @hausofmingi for being my beta-reader ily always ♡
when you signed your lease at your new apartment, you didn’t expect to sign up for a list of problems.
you desperately needed a new place to live, and with the measly budget you had for rent, all that was left available were slim pickings. so when you finally found a small 1 bedroom apartment that wasn’t double your desired price, you jumped at the opportunity. you applied for the place on the spot and were approved the same day. you didn’t really think anything of it, but when you finally got settled in and actually gave a good look at your newfound home… you were in for a fucking nightmare.
for starters, the window unit in the bedroom wouldn’t blow cool air. it’s right in the heat of the summer, so coming home after a long day only to sweat all night long was not cutting it for you. you put in a maintenance request through your tenant portal app the first day when you realized this.
another annoyance was the dishwasher. one of your biggest must-haves was to have an actual working one. maybe you were asking a bit much with your budget, but with the amount that you work, it was imperative. you were thrilled to see the dishwasher during the viewing, only to find a few days worth of dirty dishes later, that said dishwasher was rusty and moldy. literally unusable. so you put in another maintenance request.
last one, and maybe now you’re just getting picky because you’re pissed, but your shower water pressure sucked, and by the time you would finish a shower, the water would take forever to drain. another request sent.
all these maintenance requests and not a single one fixed. you started to wonder if the tenant portal app even worked, so you called your landlord, only to grapple with them on finding a time for them to fix it while you’re still home. you might want these things fixed asap, but you’re not willing to let a stranger in your space when you’re not there.
you started to fucking lose it. a few weeks with no cold air, shitty water pressure, and dishes piling up your sink, and not one thing being done about it. you call your landlord one more time, urging them to finally fix these issues, arguing that they should’ve been fixed before you even moved in. and with that last push, they finally caved and did their fucking job. they said they’re sending someone there first thing tomorrow.
so when you finally wake up and go about your day-off routine, you’re constantly watching the clock. when they said “first thing tomorrow,” did they mean “first thing tomorrow once the maintenance man feels like it”? because it’s already pushing noon and you’re getting impatient. it’s obnoxious; you’re not able to run any errands (let alone actually go out and enjoy your day off) and you’re just waiting around for some dude to actually do the job you’ve been asking for for weeks.
just as you find yourself dialing the landlord’s number, you hear a knock at your door. fucking FINALLY. you jump off your couch, mind spewing profanities out of frustration. you walk towards the door, ready to give this stupid maintenance man a piece of your mind. you swing open the door, and your heart drops.
the maintenance man stands before you, with a tight black tank that hugged his muscular build and dirty worn jeans. he has a tool belt strapped to his (surprisingly small?) waist and a heavy tool box gripped in his hand. he’s a little dirty, and his chest is shiny with sweat due to the humid outside air. his rugged exterior is a huge juxtaposition to his face, however, with sharp yet kind eyes and a sweet smile.
“you need some maintenance done?” he asks.
“oh, uh, yes,” you stumble, suddenly at a loss for words. “come on in.” you hold the door open, allowing him to walk through to your living room.
“so you’re having issues with your water pressure?” he says, looking around the apartment.
“yeah, that and a few other things,” you reply. “but the biggest thing is the window unit in my room. it doesn’t blow any cold air.”
“i can fix that,” he looks at you with a grin. “which one’s the bedroom?”
you walk him to your room, thanking god he can’t see the blush forming on your face. he walks in and places his tool box down, promptly inspecting the window unit.
“i’ll just let you do your thing,” you say, twiddling your thumbs. “i’ll be in the living room if you need me.”
he nods, and you go back to sit on your couch. you mindlessly scroll through your phone, all while spiraling in your head. did your landlord hire this guy from a fucking modeling agency? he has the build for handyman work, that is certain. however, his face is what’s really getting to you. he could be on the cover of vogue and you wouldn’t bat an eye. but there he is, working on a shitty a/c window unit in your room.
you suddenly become hyper aware of the appearance of your bedroom. what does he think about your decor? is he cringing at the plushies sat on your bed? what if you left a pair of underwear out? oh my god, did you leave your nightstand drawer open, with your vibrator out for the whole world to see?
“it looks like you’ll need a whole new window unit,” he says from your room, interrupting your swarming thoughts. “this one doesn’t even have heat, and you’ll need that for winter.”
“oh, yeah,” you say, getting up and standing in your bedroom doorway. “how long will it take to get a new one? this heat has been brutal.”
“i should be able to bring one tomorrow, if you’re available,” he says, turning back to look at you as he closes up the tool box.
“i’m available,” you say all too quick. dude. be cool. “i mean, yeah, i can try to get off work a little earlier, maybe at like 3?”
“works for me,” he smiles, standing up. “can i get your number?”
you can’t hide your blush this time, nodding at the insinuation, but knowing it was just to iron out arrangements. “here,” you say, opening your phone messages so he can send himself a text.
he types away and hands your phone back. “you need a new dishwasher too, right?”
“i do,” you confirm.
“i can try and get you one by tomorrow too,” he says. “i’m off duty by like 5, so hopefully i’ll have enough time. now the shower?”
you nod and lead him to your bathroom. he examines the shower head, and you watch your cat approach him from behind.
“oh my god,” he says, startled at your cat rubbing against his leg. “this little dude came out of nowhere!” he reaches down to pet him, all while he’s purring up a storm.
“wow, he really likes you,” you stand shocked. your cat is always so standoffish to strangers, usually hiding under your bed or couch. but he’s rubbing against your maintenance man’s legs like he’s best friends with him.
“cats tend to really like me, i don’t know why,” he chuckles, scratching at your cat’s head. “what’s his name?”
“leo,” you say.
“like the zodiac sign?” he looks up at you while still petting him.
“yeah, i wanted to name him after his own sign but he’s a cancer, soooo…” you trail off, awkwardly fiddling with your hands.
“i’m a cancer!” he lights up, looking back down at leo. “no wonder we get along.”
you smile, and then realize you’re staring again. “i’ll go back in here so you can work.”
after distracting yourself with your phone again for a bit, you look up and see the man starting to walk out the bathroom doorway, already with his things together.
“okay, it should be good now, but let me know tomorrow if there’s any issues,” he says. you nod to him and lead him to the front door. you open the door and he walks out, but turns to you before he leaves. “so, i’ll see you tomorrow?” he has a smile on his face, with a hint of something behind it that you can’t quite read.
“yeah, tomorrow,” you say.
after locking the door behind him, you slump onto the couch with a big sigh. that was somehow the most nerve-wracking thing you’ve ever experienced. you remember he texted himself on your phone, so you open your messages and see the unsaved number.
sent 12:28 pm
this is san :)
you can feel heat rising to your cheeks. even a stupid smiley face in a text has got you kicking your feet. you text him back, telling him your name and a quick thank you.
dear lord. this man didn’t even do anything, but he will be the death of you.
you come home early the next day, even earlier than you mentioned. partly because you wanted to clean up your place a bit, but the other part to mentally prepare yourself for a hot man in your apartment again. you clean up your room, tidying up so it looks a tad better than it did the day prior. once you’re done, you find yourself fixing up your makeup, realizing you’re putting way too much effort into seeing a fucking handyman fix your a/c.
are you really doing this? intentionally getting dolled up for this?? haha never! right….?
you hear a knock at your door and jump up. you check yourself in the mirror one last time, fixing the gloss on your lips. you go to open the door to reveal san, standing in front of you again with a familiar sweet smile on his face. you smile back too eagerly.
“i got your window unit!” he says, nodding down to the large box in his hands.
“oh, come in, that must be heavy!” you say, ushering him into your living room.
“mind if i go in your room?” he asks.
“of course, please,” you say, opening your bedroom door and letting him set the box down. you attempt to subtly watch his arms flex as he drops it. oh my god he is so hot.
you retreat to the living room as usual, allowing him to work in peace. you work on some things on your laptop to pass the time, but the thought of this man working on your a/c, muscles protruding, sweat glistening… it’s all too much of a distraction. you decide to put your ear buds in, trying to drown out your own perverse thoughts. you finally are able to hone in on your work, catching up on the things you couldn’t finish during your shift today since you left early.
you don’t realize that san finished installing the window unit until you feel a hand on your shoulder, making you jump.
“oh!” you stammer, pulling an ear bud out. “sorry, what’s up?”
san has a smile creeping on his face. “my bad, i didn’t mean to scare you. i just wanted to let you know i finished putting in the unit.”
“that’s great, thank you so much,” you say, standing up. “did you get the dishwasher today too?”
“yeah i did,” he says, but then he checks his phone for the time. you realize it’s about to hit 5 pm, and he said he’s off by that time.
“you’re almost off, i forgot,” you say apologetically. “you can just come back another day?”
he checks his phone again, contemplating. “well… i mean i already have it in my truck, so i don’t mind working a little bit over my time.”
“you really don’t have to, san,” you plead.
“it’s okay,” he says. “i’ll be right back with it!”
he exits your apartment, giving you a moment to kick yourself. having a dishwasher that works would be so great right now, but you feel guilty for having him work past his time. another part of you wants him to go anyway, if it meant he would come back again.
you hear a loud noise outside your front door, so you open it to see san with the new dishwasher on a dolly. you hold the door open for him, allowing him to enter your apartment and bee-line to the kitchen. he props the dolly down to drop the box.
“i should be able to finish this in about an hour, is that okay?” he asks, already unboxing it.
“as long as you’re okay with working this late,” you shrug.
“i don’t mind at all,” he smiles, looking up at you.
“okay, i’ll just be in here,” you point behind you, gesturing to the living room.
“alright, dishwasher is done,” san says, walking into the living room with a broken down empty box in one hand and dolly in the other.
“thank you so much,” you smile.
“is there anything else you need then?” he inquires, quirking up an eyebrow.
a moment of silence washes over the room momentarily, with you wracking your brain trying to find a reason for him to stay longer. but you push that away, knowing he’s been working way too long past his scheduled time.
“no, i think that will do it,” you sigh, unintentionally sounding disappointed.
“well,” he mumbles, toying with the box in his hand. “well you have my number, so if you need anything, feel free to shoot me a text.”
you walk him to the door, thanking him. he stands out in the hallway, you looking at him out your front door.
“really though,” he insists. “if you need anything.” with one last sweet smile, he leaves.
so what does he mean by that? “anything.” maybe you’re delusional for thinking there’s a hidden meaning behind that statement. as in, you can text him if you want him to fuck your brains out, “anything?” definitely not, but your mind wanders at the thought of it; that he’d drop everything and book it back to your apartment, heaving and sweaty, ready to take what’s his. you’re actually fucking crazy.
and to make yourself even crazier, the next few days you find yourself itching to get another reason to have him come back. you check your kitchen sink’s water pressure, it’s fine. you test out the stove for the first time and it cooked your food perfectly, no gas smell. then you find something. one of your kitchen drawers won’t close completely. it’s something small, but enough to put in a maintenance request. for the first time since you moved in, you feel grateful you live in a shitty apartment.
you swing the door open, happy to see the cute grin san always gives you the moment he sees you.
“sooo… a drawer, huh?” he quips with a hint of a teasing tone.
“y-yeah, i tried to fix it but i don’t know what i’m doing wrong,” you defend, rubbing the back of your neck.
“i can fix that,” he says, passing into the kitchen, tool box in hand. you’re ready to retreat to your living room as usual, but san stops you. “you know, you don’t have to wait around in your living room for me to finish. i like having company.”
“oh,” you mumble, turning around. “i thought you might want privacy while you work.”
“no, it’s okay,” he says, opening his tool box to grab a few items. “if you wanted, you can hang around. i like learning about the tenants i’m working for.”
“okay,” you murmur. you open a kitchen cabinet to grab two mugs. “do you want some tea?”
“i would love some tea,” he says.
you put the kettle on the stove, heating up some water. you chat with san about work, how many units he has to visit in a day, about the interesting tenants he meets, how long he’s been doing this. once the kettle starts whistling, san is already finished fixing the drawer, placing it back into it’s assigned slot. you can’t help but feel disappointed that your time with him is almost up. you put the tea bags in the mugs of hot water, offering one to san.
“i know you’re done, but if you still want it,” you say, and he accepts the drink with a grin. you both sit at your kitchen table, continuing to chat. your cat leo enters the kitchen, going to straight to san’s legs to rub against him.
“there’s my boy,” san coos, scratching leo’s head.
“i still can’t get over how much he likes you,” you laugh. “he’s never this friendly, he’s only like this with me.”
“he seems friendly to me,” san says. “maybe he just has good taste in people.”
you chuckle, wondering in the back of your mind if he meant that about you too.
san checks his phone, realizing the time. he sets down his tea and stands. “i should probably get out of here, there’s another tenant waiting for me.”
“i didn’t mean to keep you—”
“no no,” san interrupts. “it’s okay. i really liked this. not a lot of people are this welcoming.”
“of course,” you reply, standing up with him. “i—i really liked this too.”
san smiles, biting a bit at his lip. you look at each other for a moment, feeling an intriguing tension in the air. he finally shakes head, going to grab his things to go. you walk him to your front door. you say another thank you, about to close the door.
“like i said,” he repeats, leaning against the door frame. “anything.”
you hadn’t seen san in over a week. it was driving you mad. you became addicted to his energy, to his warm greeting at your front door, to the lingering gazes you shared. you didn’t have any reason to see him again, and you needed to find another. so you did something you’re not entirely proud of… something that an actual crazy person would do. you loosened a bolt on a pipe under your kitchen sink, allowing water to trickle the smallest amount in the lower cabinet.
listen. you know it’s bizarre at this point, but you had to see him again. it’s not like anything would happen; he’d probably just fix it up, have another nice chat with you, and be on his way. is it so bad that you meddled with your sink just to see him?
when san arrives, he has that all-knowing grin on his face the moment you open the door.
“the sink now, hm?” he asks.
“yeah,” you chuckle anxiously. “the sink.”
he goes to the kitchen and inspects the pipes under the sink. you lean against the counter, hoping to god he doesn’t notice that the pipe didn’t magically get loose.
“ah i see,” he laughs to himself. “it’s just a loose bolt. easy fix.” he tightens it with his tools, quickly finishing.
“oh, haha,” you say, nerves bubbling in your stomach. “i guess i could’ve done that.”
“you know, it’s so interesting…” he trails off, standing up to face you, running a hand through his hair.
“what?” you ask.
“i’ve never had to do so much maintenance work for one tenant before,” he says, sly grin across his face. fuck. do you think he knows?
“and i swear, that bolt kinda looked like it was loosened by a wrench…” he trails off again, stepping closer to you. HE KNOWS.
“n-no, i would never,” you defend, feeling backed against the counter.
your eyes are locked on san, wandering over his built frame, over his sharp features. he’s inching closer and closer, and you feel your breath hitch. he catches your trailing eyes as if to ask for permission, and leans in to kiss you.
finally, the thing you’ve been wanting so bad from him, to feel his lips against yours. he cups your cheek with one hand, letting you melt into his touch. your lips part to allow his tongue to slide in, deepening the kiss with fervor. his form pushes against yours, pressing you against the kitchen counter. his hands begin to wander, grazing from the side of your face down to your waist. he holds you in a tight grip, pulling your hips forward to meet his. you can feel him harden in his jeans as he lets out a groan against your lips.
“you did this on purpose, hm?” san says, separating from your lips. he lifts you up and places you to sit on the kitchen counter in one swift motion. he kneels to the floor, grabbing at the waist of your pants. “just to see me?”
you nod emphatically, watching as he pulls down your pants and underwear. the cold air hits your core and you try to close your legs, but san pushes them back open to admire you. putting your legs over his shoulders, he runs his fingers against your folds, eyes drinking in the sight of you. you shudder at the feeling, knowing all too well that he’s already got you soaked.
“you like seeing me like this?” he whispers, looking up at you. “i bet you imagined me like this, between your legs.” when his fingertips graze over your clit, your body lets out a shake, and he knows he found what he wanted.
he attaches his mouth to your core and places a firm hold on your outer thighs. licking stripes up to your clit, each stroke of his tongue feels like heaven. he dips down to your hole, dragging your slick upwards. he moans at the taste of you, devouring at you with more passion. your hands grasp at his hair, relishing the stimulation.
he tugs his head back, looking as pussy-drunk as ever. “i imagined you like this too,” he moans, lips still hovering over you. you unintentionally tug at his hair, yearning for his mouth back on you. “i wanted you so bad the moment i saw you.”
he releases a hand off your thigh and snakes it back between your legs, teasing at your hole as he goes back to circle his tongue around your clit. he looks up at you as he slides his middle finger in, watching you crumble at the feeling. once he can tell you’re comfortable, he slides in another, slowly starting to pump them into you. you whimper at the feeling, walls contracting around his fingers.
your moans are uncontrollable, and he matches them, letting the vibrations enhance the stimulation. he curls his fingers into you, hitting that perfect spot. he can feel your core clenching more erratically, causing him to pick up the pace, but maintaining a steady rhythm. his tongue flicks at your clit just right, making you squeeze your eyes shut and tighten the grip on his hair.
“s-san,” you let out. “i’m gonna cum.”
he detaches from you briefly, still finger fucking you. “cum for me, baby, i want to taste you.” he immediately latches back onto you, eating you like his life depends on it.
you feel a wave of pleasure wash over your body, feeling like chills. you’re shaking now, unable to control the sheer amount of bliss your body is experiencing. you moan out to san, coming undone on his tongue. he continues to work at you, allowing you to ride out the entirety of your orgasm.
he finally disconnects from you, pulling out his fingers coated in your essence. he licks them clean, looking up at you with the same look of desire. he stands up, promptly placing his lips on yours in a passionate kiss. you can taste yourself on his fucked-out lips, and it makes it that much hotter. you can hear him fumbling with his belt, and your hands reach down to help. you place your palm over his bulge, it twitching at the contact.
san separates from you, letting out a heavy sigh. he pulls himself out from his underwear, rubbing the tip at your spent pussy. he looks down and lets a string of his spit hit his throbbing cock, spreading it around the expanse of it with his hand. he angles himself into you, and slowly starts pushing in. you gasp at the size, him stretching you out much more than his fingers initially did. he takes it slow, acknowledging the whimpers leaving your lips.
once he’s fully inside, he groans. “god, you’re so fucking tight.”
he watches himself enter you as he starts rolling his hips into you. he places a hand on the back of your neck, pushing you towards him for a messy kiss. he starts to pick up his pace, earning a sharp hiss on his lips in between kisses.
“you feel so good,” he murmurs to you. “i knew you would feel good.”
you moan in response, completely unable to form any words. all you know is that the stretch of his cock is deliciously painful, and the sweet kisses he’s peppering over your neck gives you goosebumps all over. you can’t even believe this is happening right now, that your fantasy of fucking your maintenance man is coming true, and it feels even better than you imagined.
“you wanted this so bad,” san teases, continuing to piston into you. “for me to fuck you like this. you probably imagined it, touching yourself the moment i left.”
and he’s right, you found yourself needy and horny after every visit he made. you couldn’t stop yourself from grabbing your vibrator and pretending he was the one fucking you, not yourself. but the feeling of the real thing was much different, much more euphoric. to have his chest heaving in front of you, sweat beading on his temple, desperate energy emanating from his body, saying i want to have all of you.
suddenly, he lifts you from the kitchen counter, holding your thighs firmly with his cock still in you. something about the fact that he can completely hold you up, still bouncing you on him even… you feel like his little play toy that he’s throwing around. he takes you to the bedroom, dropping you down on your bed and landing on top of you.
he wastes no time in sliding back into you, desperate to continue feeling your tight walls around him. his body is hovering over yours, your legs tangled as he thrusts into you. he pecks around your neck, hand ghosting over your throat as if seeking permission. you place your hand over his, allowing him to choke you until you’re lost in a euphoric haze.
his thrusts become more intense and forceful, each stroke sending chills down your spine as his length reaches deeper inside you. you swear you’re shaking the whole bed, the headboard repeatedly slamming against the wall. you’re so clouded by pleasure that you barely even notice he’s fucking you so hard that he’s pushing a dent into the wall from your bed frame.
“i can fix that,” san whispers with a smile, not even bothering to stop.
you let out a chuckle, then press a soft kiss to his lips. his hips begin to slow, as though he’s really taking his time to melt into you, to feel every part of you. he then lifts up to hit a new angle inside you, gripping your waist and slamming your hips into his with powerful, deliberate motions. you move your hand to your clit, feeling your walls tighten around his throbbing cock. your vision blurs, tears starting to well up in your eyes from the overwhelming pleasure.
“you gonna cum for me?” san asks, sensing the irregular pulsing of your core. you nod up at him, eyebrows furrowed and lip caught between your teeth. “cum on my cock, baby, let me feel you.”
your orgasm builds to a peak and then cascades over you, sending you into a state of pure bliss. san is still fucking into you, extending your orgasm while still chasing his own. it’s not until his hips begin to falter that you feel him shoot ropes of his cum into you, filling you completely. his moans echo yours, his hips gradually slowing until he finally comes to a stop.
he pulls out of you, falling next to you on the bed. the room is filled with the sound of your heavy breathing as it gradually returns to a normal pace. you look at each other, smiling with a shared understanding of the unexpected moment you just experienced. he wraps his arm around you, drawing your head to his chest to where you can hear his heartbeat.
“sooo…” you chuckle softly, pointing at the dent in your wall. “you’re gonna fix that, right?”
san grins, pulling you closer. “i mean, i can, but then i’d have no reason to come back tomorrow.”
“now that i think of it,” you say, chuckling. “i think there’s probably a few more things that could be fixed…”
“anything you need,” he says. “anything.”
a/n: guys this was so fun to write, i hope u enjoyed it too!! something about san lately oml... plz leave feeback as i'm new to writing, and reblog to support me! it motivates me to write more!
honestly this just is not okay, and is really a precedent for how toxic fans can control their groups with a company’s support regardless of what the members want.
it also goes to show how the opinions of international fanbases do NOT matter. as much as i love riize and have wanted to support, this is all just unfair. i genuinely wish them all happiness, and i feel terrible that they’re at the mercy of that fuck ass company and their “fans.”
my heart breaks for seunghan and the members of riize. i just know nothing these “fans” can offer them as idols will ever EVER undo the damage that has been done to them as human beings.
summary: stuck in the monotony of your job at the mall, every day feels the same: opening the store, sitting behind the register, and counting the hours til close. you've even memorized the routines of the stores around you. but when a new guy starts at the comic book store across the way, you realize your predictable days may soon change.
warnings: 18+, minors do not interact, comic book store employee!mark, retail employee!reader, really cute and fluffy until it's not, public sex (public space but no one is there), unprotected piv (DONT DO THIS), mark throws u around like a lil play thing, oral (fem recieving), fingering, use of a petname (baby), lmk if i forgot anything!
author's note: this one took forever yall i know its been a while! been going thru some shit irl but things are settling and i was deadset on finishing this bc it's so cute :'-) thank u to T and @hausofmingi for being my beta readers ( ˘ ³˘)♡
working at a mall can be really tiring, but it’s not so bad when you have a crush.
you’ve been working at a retail store at your local mall for a few months now. it’s boring, there’s too many people on the weekends, and you have the worst hours. you found yourself working open to close for far too many shifts. but at the end of the day, at least it keeps the bills paid.
on slow days during the week, you’re always sat at the register, scrolling through your phone or twiddling your thumbs, counting down the seconds til closing time. sometimes you would even stare off into space, watching people pass by all day long.
you went to work always knowing exactly how the day would go; set up shop, maybe help some customers, and do fucking nothing for 8 to 10 hours. maybe a wave to the employees at the stores surrounding you, but sadly, that was usually the most interesting part of your day. you became accustomed to the monotony though, watching the same employees open up their shops next to yours.
the store directly across from yours is a comic book store. you know the few people that worked there, usually just saying “good morning” and going on with your day. you swear, you have this store memorized, knowing when the employees take their breaks, who’s working, what they’re working on that day. you didn’t really mean to, but when all you have to do is daydream, you kinda picked up on the routine there.
so when you arrive in the morning for yet another brutal open-to-close shift, you expect to just roll up the security shutters and sit back at the register all day. but there’s something different today; or rather, someone different.
sitting at the register at the comic book store is a man you’ve never seen before. his hair is perfectly messy and his glasses framed his eyes, which are focused on reading a comic. he’s working all by himself, which is surprising to you since you’re certain he’s new. you catch yourself staring and try to brush it off. he’s a new guy, so what?
you try your best to go about your day as normal, but you can’t help stealing glances over at the man at the store across from you. he has a captivating energy, and it makes you want to know more about him. he seems charismatic, being friendly with customers and earning smiles, then resuming his doodling once they leave. you notice that when he looks really focused, he bites the corner of his lip gently.
you gotta stop staring, or he will definitely notice. you decide to actually work on something for once, organizing the stock and straightening the shelves. soon enough, closing time creeps up on you. you do all of your closing duties and grab your things from the back. you close the security shutters, looking behind you quickly to see that the man is doing the same. he notices your gaze, so you kindly wave at him. instead of a wave back, blush forms on his face with a shy smile. and with that, he walks away.
the interaction was unreadable. he seemed to be so extroverted with customers, having no issue having casual conversations with them. why is he getting all shy now?
you started to pick up on the new routine at the comic book store. from what you could tell, the man worked similar hours to you, often opening and closing too. he rarely worked with anyone else, so the majority of the time you glanced over, he was reading comics, manga, or doodling in his notepad.
you never really got into comic books like that, and only dabbled with reading manga, but the growing interest in this man made you curious about learning more on what he was reading. maybe it wouldn’t hurt to check out the selection? perhaps get some recommendations? you just finished a short shift today so now was the perfect opportunity.
after grabbing your things and saying goodbye to your coworker, you make your way over to the comic book store. you approach the man, who’s sitting at the register as usual, reading. you see his name tag on his chest; a cute red pin with a spider-man drawing next to his name, “mark.”
“hi,” you say, pulling his attention away from reading.
“oh, hi,” he says, placing his comic down. “sorry, i didn’t see you come in.”
“it’s okay,” you reply, looking around at the goodies at the register. “i was wondering if you have any recommendations for a beginner at reading comics?”
“oh for sure,” he says, eyes lighting up. “marvel has tons of great ones. you could start with an ironman one, or maybe captain america? i personally like spider-man, but i’m definitely biased.”
“i’ll try spider-man,” you say after a beat.
mark gives you a nod with a warm smile before leaving the register to grab your comic. he searches through the spider-man section until he finds the first issue. he returns to the register, ringing you up.
“i think you’ll like it, it’s really good,” mark says, handing your receipt to you.
“i’m definitely looking forward to see what all the hype is about,” you chuckle. the conversation pauses for moment, clearly indicating that the interaction is pretty much over with. but you don’t want the conversation to end there, so you find something to keep talking about. “you’re new here, aren’t you? like you just started working here?”
“yeah, sort of,” he says, sitting back in his seat at the register. “i used to work here a while ago and i just came back ‘cause they needed someone.”
“oh nice,” you reply. “welcome back i guess?”
“haha, i guess,” he smiles, rubbing his hand on his neck. “it’s chill here, but it gets kinda boring.”
“tell me about it,” you chuckle. “it’s so slow during the week. i usually have nothing to do.”
“yeah, i just read or draw to pass the time,” mark says, pointing at his notepad on the counter.
“you like to draw?” you ask, curious.
“yeah,” he places a hand on the notepad, grabbing it. you can tell he’s getting shy again. “it’s just doodles.”
“you’ll have to show me some of those ‘doodles’ sometime,” you say with a sweet smile. you check your phone for the time. it’s getting closer to dinnertime and you’re starved. “i guess i’ll get out of here.”
“okay,” he stands again. “well, let me know what you think of the comic.”
“i will,” you say, turning to leave, then flipping back to look at him. “mark, right?”
he nods, asking for your name as well. he beams at you. “it’s nice to meet you. see you tomorrow?”
“see you tomorrow,” you say with a wave, walking out.
for the next week, you find yourself aching to talk to mark again. you read the comic he gave you, and it provided a little bit of insight into him… that he’s a bit of a nerd. definitely not a bad thing. it’s actually really endearing to you, knowing his life basically revolves around superheroes, free time and work alike. that he probably draws little comics in his notepad, and has sweet dreams about being superhuman. why is that so fucking cute?
you have a reason to talk to him again, of course: the next issue of spider-man. the problem is building up the courage again, which is ridiculous because he’s just a guy. a nerdy one at that, and you know that he would be putty in your hands if you really wanted him to be. but the longing you developed for him during those long hours of your shift, seeing him across the way, looking so cute in his round glasses… it’s making you nervous in a way that is difficult to explain.
you’ve been putting off going back to his store at this point. wouldn’t someone that wanted to get into superhero comics come back for the next edition? why aren’t you using your excuse to talk to him? not only that, but he even said he wanted you to come tell him what you thought of the comic. you’re just overthinking things.
you have another short shift one day, and decide today is the day. you gather your things and walk to the neighboring store, feeling the familiar butterflies you felt the first time you approached mark at the register. he’s drawing this time, crouched down and focused. he hears you walk in, lifting his head to meet your eyes. maybe you’re crazy, but it looks like his eyes light up.
“hey,” he says, closing the notepad in front of him. you present the spider-man comic to him, and he flashes a smile at you. “what’d you think?”
you chuckle, holding the comic close to your chest. “it was good, but too short. there’s another issue, right?” you joke, hoping it lands.
he lets out a giggle, “yeah, there definitely is. i’ll grab the next one for you.”
he walks over to a section near the front of the store, flipping through the excess of papers before he finds the 2nd issue. “if you liked that one, you’ll like this one even more.” he returns to the register with the issue, placing it on the counter for you.
“duel to the death with the vulture?” you read from the page. “i haven’t seen any of the movies recently so correct me if i’m wrong, but i don’t remember there being a vulture.”
“oh yeah, he’s in one of the later movies actually,” mark starts. “but you got a long way to go til you finally meet one of the iconic villians like the green goblin, or even the love interests gwen stacy or mary jane. it’ll be so worth the wait though.”
“how much do i owe you?” you ask, already pulling out your wallet.
“you can borrow it if you want,” he says.
“but this one belongs to the store, won’t you get in trouble?” you ask.
“just bring it back and it’s like it never happened,” he whispers, faking a shhh at you. “let’s just say it’s mall employee perk.”
you smile and accept it.
your new routine feels like a nice change of pace. every second of every day used to drag by, and yet at the same time, when you got home, everything that happened was so unbelievably boring that it all felt like a blur. nothing really significant happened to you. but something about trying something new, learning about a brand new niche interest, and even developing a crush… it’s finally something exciting.
you looked forward to the next time you got a new issue. not just that, but the next time you got to talk to mark. he has this charm about him that piqued your interest. it feels so easy to talk to him, as if you’ve already known each other for a long time and it isn’t just a budding friendship. you’d find yourself stopping by the comic book store a few times a week, anticipating the next comic and the underlying tension between you and mark.
like today, when you finally got off of work after a long shift. you were able to close up shop quickly and now you’re walking over to the comic book store, attempting to run in before mark locked up.
“hey, is it cool if i get the next issue real quick?” you ask, popping your head in the store.
“yeah, one sec,” he says, looking up from counting the cash in the register. “lemme just finish closing up the register.”
“are you implying that you’re gonna let me borrow another comic?” you ask, a flirty tone floating beneath.
“well of course,” he says, swiftly closing the cash drawer. “unless you want to start collecting, which by the way, SUPER expensive.”
“i think i’ll stick to being a casual reader for now,” you joke, approaching mark at the register.
“i don’t know, you might change your mind after this one,” he says, grabbing a comic from his bag. he holds it out to you, you grabbing it with your fingers briefly brushing past his. the motion makes you feel a little dizzy, and you can feel heat rising to your cheeks.
you shake your head, realizing this one doesn’t belong to the store. “wait, is this your own personal comic?”
“yeah, it’s one of my favorites,” he says, half focusing as he’s writing something on a sticky note at the counter. “i brought it in so you can borrow it.” you can see the corner of his mouth turning up, as if he’s trying to hold back a smile.
“you didn’t have to do that—”
“i wanted to,” he says, lifting his head up to hand you the sticky note he was writing on. “just treat it with care.”
you take the note, which is pale blue with a cartoon spider-man in the corner. in the middle of the note is a scrawled out phone number. you look up to see mark rubbing the back of his neck nervously.
“if you want to tell me what you think?” he says, almost like a question.
“or maybe when i get bored during my shift?” you ask, chuckling.
“i’d like that a lot actually,” he smiles, his previous nervousness quickly washing away.
“you’ll regret it though,” you say, sticking the note on the front page of the comic. “because i get bored here a lot.”
“don’t worry,” mark laughs, shaking his head. “i don’t think i’ll get sick of you anytime soon.”
you finally reached issue #14 of spider-man, the one mark is lending to you. you grab it out of your bag at the beginning of your shift, sitting back in your chair behind the register and getting comfortable. you realize what it’s about and immediately text mark.
sent 10:17 am
omg wait i didn’t realize this issue is the first appearance of the green goblin
you look across the way, seeing mark pick up his phone and smiling.
sent 10:18 am
mark: oh yeah, he’s fuckin sick
mark: you’re gonna love it
you click your phone off with a soft sigh, flipping back to your comic. you go about your shift switching from helping customers and checking them out, and reading. every once and a while, you’ll message mark with your comments and he would always reply with enthusiasm.
the end of your shift approaches quickly, and soon enough you’re closing the security shutters. you look behind you to see mark locking the doors and then doing the same. he must’ve felt your eyes on him, because he turns and flashes his famous smile to you. you walk over to him with the comic in hand.
“you were right,” you say, handing it him. “green goblin is super sick.”
“i told you,” he says, reaching for it, and your hands momentarily touching like last time. he gets flustered. “uh, i can give you the next one tomorrow if you’re working.”
“i am, yeah,” you reply, adjusting your bag on your shoulder. “i am so curious though—when the hell does gwen stacy show up?”
“oh,” he giggles to himself. “you’re like, halfway there to finally seeing her.”
“i didn’t realize how extensive this series is,” you chuckle. “not that i’m complaining. i’m actually surprised by how much i like it.”
“i’m glad,” he says sweetly. “well, just come by tomorrow and i’ll give you the next issue.”
“i will.”
the following weeks, you became overtaken by superhero comics and stupid-fucking-adorable mark. you would read an issue of spider-man at work, and text mark with your reactions to certain scenes. at first you thought it might be annoying to him, but he actually seemed to encourage it, asking for your opinions on the characters and storyline.
it doesn’t help that every time you see mark, you get butterflies in your stomach. and it seemed to only be getting worse; you keep finding yourself smiling when his name pops up on your phone. you wake up excited to go to work, because you know you’ll probably have another interaction with him. sometimes, mark would even catch you staring at him and give a little nod with a smile. but what made things exponentially worse was when you catch him gazing at you too, catching you off guard but making a smile spread across your lips. you are smitten, and if anyone else was concerned, mark is probably smitten too. the issue is getting him to finally take the hint and making a real move on you.
he may get a little flustered around you, but he’s not exactly shy. after all, he did give you his number unprompted. but after weeks of going back and forth strictly talking about comics and work, you started to lose hope. you just want him. he must want you back just as bad.
after another closing shift, you watch the mall-goers pass by and file out of the building. the mall is basically empty now, most of the neighboring stores already closed and employees leaving for the day. you had to stay a little bit late, cleaning up a huge mess in the store from some rude customers. you thought you would have time to stop by to see mark, but with the amount of things you have to put away, your chances are looking slim.
you shuffle around the store, placing items back on the shelves and organizing the tables of merchandise. you eyes shift over to the comic book store, expecting to see it dark and locked up. but it isn’t; mark is still in there, half the lights still on, with him unboxing comics from their latest shipment. you already knew it was restock day for them (god you have way too much free time), but you didn’t realize how many boxes they got in.
you open the front door of your store, whisper-yelling through the security shutters. “mark!”
mark’s head turns to look at you and flashes a grin at you. “yo, you’re still here too?”
you nod, leaning on the glass door. you hold up a few of the displaced items in your hands. “go-backs,” you shrug.
he points at the pile of boxes in front of him, “restock. we got a lot of shit in early for christmas.”
“don’t say christmas please, i don’t want to think about it yet,” you say with a laugh.
you turn away to get back to work, putting all the merchandise back to their assigned spots. you don’t know what the hell got into people today; messing up all your organization you’ve done and putting things in all the wrong places. it didn’t help that you had to deal with some assholes with returns today too. you always theorize it’s from a full moon or mercury retrograde or something; those things must be the reason people start acting up.
after about an hour of cleaning, you finish up and can finally call it a day. you close up shop and turn to see mark still working on stocking at his store. you approach the security gate of the store, with its front door still propped open.
“i still need my next issue by the way,” you say to mark, who stands from his crouching position in front of an open box. he walks up to the gate and pushes it up, just enough for you to come through. you look hesitant.
“come in, it’s okay,” he says, motioning you in. you duck under the security gate, slipping into the store. “how was your day? looks like you had a lot to do.”
“yeah, the store was a mess,” you say, following him to the register. “i’ve never had to stay so late after close.”
“it’s only gonna get worse the closer it gets to christmas,” mark says while weaving around the boxes with you.
“what did i say about christmas?” you joke, nudging his shoulder softly.
“sorry, sorry,” he laugh, putting his hands up. you wait patiently for him as he kneels behind the register, looking for your comic. he pops back up with a stumped look on his face. “i swear i thought i put it up here to give to you but i can’t find it. i’m gonna go check the back.”
he starts walking to the back room, and looks back at you. “feel free to sit if you want. our stockroom is a wreck, this might take a sec.”
you nod to him, squeezing past the tower of boxes to sit in the chair at the register. it feels kinda funny to sit back here, like you’re seeing the store from a different perspective, from mark’s perspective. you look around behind the counter, seeing the little notes and cute super-hero knick knacks gathered around.
there’s a mini batman funko pop positioned in the corner, with a sticky note placed under his feet reading “no drinks at the register.” you look over to see a large iced coffee with mark’s name in sharpie. well, we all bend the rules a bit. his name tag is placed on the counter by a stack of comics. you grab it to take a closer look. it’s a plastic red pin with a white pop-art bubble. in the corner is a small piece of paper stuck on it, attached with office tape. on the paper is a spider-man doodle, made with red and blue marker and pen ink.
you’re sure this must’ve been drawn by mark. you have yet to see any of his drawings (despite your prying), so maybe seeing this one up close will give you a sneak peek into his style. it’s a little messy, with scratchy lines and colors bleeding outside the borders. despite that, it has a distinct style that you’re fond of. it’s not perfect, let alone does it look like the super-heroes you’ve been reading in your comics. but it has a quality to it that feels less polished and flat. it has character. the messiness makes it feel more… real.
you set his name tag down, placing it back next to the large stack of comics. these must be his go-backs. he’s been so wrapped up with his shipment he probably hasn’t had time to put them away. you think maybe it would be nice to help a bit. he’s been nice enough to let you borrow comics from the store, and you’re just waiting around after all.
you pick up the stack of comics, situating them into your arms, when you look down and see that under the stack is mark’s notepad. it’s not closed like you’re used to seeing it, opened to a clean white page with a drawing covering up a majority of it. it’s in a comic book style, you’re not surprised. but it has the same quality that his name tag doodle does; scrawly and messy, with no real precise lines. the colors are splashed across the page, with blotches of scribbled colored marker decorating it. then realize what it is—who it is.
it’s you.
the whole image captures you and a little bit of your surroundings. positioned at your normal spot at the register, you’re looking down at a comic with your fingers playing with the ends of your hair. but it has a dream-like feel to it, with the pages of the comic illuminating your face as if a source of power is emanating from it. and then the best part: the wings. placed behind your shoulders are pair of feathered wings, outstretched in a sketched black ink. it’s beautiful.
it’s beautiful and it’s you. mark drew you.
“yo, sorry that took so long,” mark says while emerging from the back, eyes still focused on the comic in his hands. “i finally found it, but dude i had to do some digging—”
mark’s words are cut short when he notices you holding his notepad, comics that were placed atop abandoned on the counter by you. he visibly gulps.
“mark…” you start, not moving your eyes from the drawing. “what’s this?” without a response for a few moments, you tear your eyes away to see mark with blush on his cheeks, mouth open but unable to let any words out. “did you… did you draw me?”
“look, it gets really slow during the day, i just did a little sketch to pass time—”
“mark, this isn’t just a sketch,” you say, looking back down at the notepad. “this is amazing.”
“y-you like it?” mark says, hand rubbing the back of his neck.
“of course i like it,” you say.
“you don’t think it’s weird that i drew you without telling you?” mark asks, nervousness radiating from him.
“i don’t think it’s weird at all,” you say. “i actually love it. i like that you drew me as a superhero too, and one with wings at that.”
mark stays quiet, looking at his feet and probably overthinking everything right now. you look back up at him, tension building in your stomach as you ask what you already know the answer to. “you like me, don’t you?”
mark lifts his head to meet your eyes. he bites his lip anxiously as he nods slowly.
a streak of courage overtakes you as you grab his arm to pull him closer, him tripping over his own feet and crashing into your chest. you’re leaned against the counter, with mark’s arm behind you and hand placed flat on the surface. your faces are close, and you can feel his breath. his eyes are glued onto your lips, and he swallows thickly.
“mark, just kiss me,” you mumble, aching for him.
he wastes no time, leaning in to slot his lips between yours. he snakes an arm around your waist, holding you as close as he can. you melt into him, goosebumps floating across your skin in all-consuming desire. you move your hand to hold his cheek, thumb swiping on his smooth skin and fingers tangled in his soft, messy hair.
he pulls away, breath still shaky. “i’ve been wanting to kiss you for so long…” he trails off before leaning in and kissing you again, this time with more passion. he swipes his tongue between your lips, with you willingly accepting him. his hands trail up and down your sides, then finally places a firm grip on your waist and lifting you to sit on the counter. he slots between your legs, his body pressed close to yours. your fingers card through his hair, earning a sweet hum from him.
his hands trail down to your ass, pushing you closer against him to where you feel the bulge forming in his jeans. he can’t even hold back his moan, it being muffled by your lips. he pulls away again, this time kissing from your cheek down to your neck. he sucks at the expanse of skin while he caresses the other side of your throat. you let out a soft hum in pleasure, savoring every bite and lick—
“fuck, you sound so hot too,” he says in between kisses. he moves a hand down to your breast, kneading it roughly. you throw your head back, soaking in the pleasure from just his hands alone. his beautiful fucking hands, the ones that drew you. his lips feel so good on you, but his hands feel even better. it’s as if he’s been waiting for this moment for eternity and he doesn’t want to let you go. almost as if holding you, touching you is the only thing keeping him grounded in reality. it doesn’t feel real to you either; that mark, the cute boy you’ve had a crush on for weeks and weeks is kissing you, holding you, and yearning for you all the same.
you feel so wrapped up in the moment that you almost forget that you’re in public. sure, there’s no one left in the mall and the only people left are probably mall security, but the risk of being seen is still there. it just feels too good to stop.
“mark,” you say, giving in to the anxiety. “are we really doing this? right here, right now?”
he pulls back to look at you, still holding you close. “it’s just us here, and if it’s okay with you, i don’t think i can wait any longer.”
“i don’t think i can either,” you respond.
suddenly mark is ripping your clothes off, all while pulling you both behind one of the comic display cases. it’s your turn to take his clothes off, and you’re yanking his jacket off and pulling up his graphic tee and discarding them both on the floor. the exchange is a jumbled mess of constant touching of skin and clothes flying in every direction, a true testament to how desperate you both want each other. he’s kissing you all the while, taking every opportunity to peck at you between the tugging of clothes.
he leans you against the display bookshelf full of comics, completely unbothered when an issue or two falls off. your hand travels down into this jeans, feeling him hard and pulsing against your palm. you stroke his length slowly, focusing most of the stimulation on his dripping head. he lifts one of your legs slightly to get better access to you under your skirt, then looks at you as if he’s asking for permission.
you nod your head profusely before leaning in to kiss him deeply. it doesn’t last long, because suddenly he’s pushing inside you and you’re gasping at the stretch—
“you’re so—fuck—so fucking tight,” he hisses, attempting to push in as slowly as he can. your mouth is fully agape in bliss as he finally bottoms out, reaching deep inside of you. he catches your eyes, lust filled in his own as he slowly starts to move.
he’s slow at first, knowing that his size is stretching you out to the point where it’s nearly painful. but it feels so fucking good, his cock dragging in and out of your tight walls. you can tell he wants to pick up the pace, with his breath shuddering with each stroke. you take the opportunity to kiss him again, wanting to taste his soft lips as he gradually begins to pound into you.
he’s groaning against your lips, and your moans are muffled against his. you’re trying to salvage any sort of public decency by holding back your sounds the best you can. it’s when he grabs your legs and lifts you to press you against the display shelf that you realize that that shred of awareness of your surroundings is about to be long fucking gone.
he’s holding you up by gripping your ass, pistoning into you at a pace that you can only describe as brutal. it’s no use trying to stifle your moans anymore, with him hitting your cervix over and over and making you see stars at each stroke—
“mark, it feels so fucking good,” you can only whine out to him, wrapping your arms around his neck tighter, tugging at his hair—
“you feel so fucking good, jesus,” he groans against your neck, heaving breaths tickling at your throat.
his pace is wild, but the force in which he’s pounding into you begins to cause the comic books around you to tumble off the shelves, creating a pile at mark’s feet. he doesn’t seem to care though. that is, until a comic book falls from a shelf above you and hits him on the head.
“ah!” he exclaims, realizing what happened. he stops his movements to look at you, holding back a smile.
you can’t hold back your laugh, giggling profusely at the ridiculousness of the situation. he laughs too, shaking his head and letting out a sigh.
“this is crazy,” he says, resting his forehead on yours.
“i know,” you reply, still giggling. with one last laugh, he leans in and kisses you tenderly, smile still formed on his lips. you melt into him, ruffling your fingers through his hair as he begins to pick back up the roll of his hips into you.
it feels like a sweet moment, the fact that you can be doing such a scandalous act and still giggle with him. the tenderness doesn’t last for long, however, when he hits that perfect spot inside you that forces you to release a sharp moan.
“mark, oh my god,” you whimper, attempting to roll your hips down onto him. “keep doing that, please—”
“fuuuck,” he groans, feeling your core clenching around his length. “you take me so well, baby.”
all you can do now is nod, whimpering and whining on him. you can’t believe that this man that has always been so endearing, so kind and lovable has this completely different side to him that you’re only now getting to experience. it brings a different sort of intrigue to him; that he’s more than just a cute boy that works at a mall. he’s complex. he’s a fucking man. he’s a fucking. sex. god.
his breathing starts to become irregular, and his pace is back to merciless. his groans, fuck, his moaning. he’s bouncing you on his cock in the perfect way to where your moans are matching his. you can feel his dick pulsing inside you—
“i’m gonna cum,” he can only breathe out, burying his head into the crook of your neck. “can i?”
“yes mark, please,” you whine, tugging at the ends of his hair. all the while you’re clenching around his cock, bringing him closer and closer to his release.
with a low groan, his hips stutter and you feel his seed spilling into you, completely filling you up. the rocking of his hips stall, and he’s finally letting you down and kissing you sweetly, caressing your cheek with his hand.
“god, you are fucking perfect,” he whispers to you. you let out a giggle, leaning your forehead against his. “hey, i’m not done with you yet.”
he quickly moves you to the glass display counter, lifting you to sit you on it. he pushes your thighs open, lifting your skirt up to get a better look at you. he looks enamored, like he’s starving and the only thing to appease his hunger is by having you on his mouth.
he dives in, licking a stripe up your core with a groan. he repeats this action, as if he’s savoring every drop of your essence mixed with his release that’s slowly dripping out of you—
“so fucking hot,” he hums, releasing a hand from your thigh to tease at your entrance.
“mark, please,” you beg. “stop teasing—”
he attaches his mouth to your clit, swirling his tongue around in smooth, controlled circles. your hands fly to his head, body already twitching from stimulation. his finger is still prodding at your hole, wanting to enter but not just yet. he instead continues to ravage at your sensitive bud, intentional movements making your head spin. he knows what he’s doing and he knows he’s good, especially with the shaking of your thighs and high pitched moans escaping your lips egging him on.
he looks up at you, flattening his tongue out and doing long, drawn out licks. the eye contact is insane, the lust filled in them only making it that much hotter. he’s enjoying every second of this, seeing you shake and begging him to keep going. he loves the taste of you too, so sweet and almost addictive. he could die like this.
his teasing finger finally starts to deepen inside you, slowly at first. he can feel every pulse of your core around his finger, and it’s so hot that he can feel himself getting hard again. and you’re so wet, oh my god, so fucking wet. your arousal is dripping down his chin and his hand, making a sticky mess. when you start to roll your hips onto his face, he swears he’s in heaven.
he inserts another finger, feeling that tightness grip around them. it’s only getting more erratic now, clenching around him with each grind of your hips. he curls his fingers to prod at that sensitive spot, causing you to moan out his name—
“mark, don’t stop,” you whine, looking down at him basically making out with your pussy.
he continues the same movements, repeatedly hitting your g spot and swirling his dripping tongue on your clit. your back arches and legs unintentionally close around his head, making him push them back open with his free hand.
and then he starts humming against you. the vibrations send a shock wave through your body, that mixed with his fingers, his tongue, his hand gripping tightly against your thigh… it feels so intense and so so good. you cum on his tongue, with him desperately holding your hips down and he helps you ride out your high. he doesn’t stop until you’re shaking, and you have to grab his head and lift it.
“oh my god,” you gasp, slowly coming down.
he smirks up at you with arousal-coated lips. “yeah, oh my god.” he stands up, immediately going to kiss you and you accepting him, wrapping your arms around him. he pulls away and leans his head against yours.
“i can’t believe we just did that,” he says, sighing out an exasperated laugh.
“i know, what the fuck, right?” you giggle.
“are you- are you doing anything right now?” he asks. “like, do you wanna get food or something?”
“are you asking me on a date?” you ask teasingly.
“don’t tell me you decided you’re creeped out by the drawing now,” he laughs.
“yeah. suuuper creeped out,” you joke, leaning in for another kiss. you hear a noise behind you, and look out through the security shutters to see a mall security guard passing by, scrolling through his phone.
“looks like he just missed the show,” mark says, causing you both to try and hold back your fit of giggles.
a/n: thank u guys for reading! i rly enjoyed this one hehe :-) please leave feedback as i'm new to writing, and reblog to support me! it motivates me to write more!
