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#ugh he has no business being this fine
lesbiansanemi · 4 months
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Oh god. I have to see my family in three days
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helluvapoison · 2 months
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Possessive
how the overlords would put a claim on you
ʕ•̫͡•ʕ•̫͡•ʔ•̫͡•ʔ•̫͡•ʕ•̫͡•ʔ•̫͡•ʕ•̫͡•ʕ•̫͡•ʔ•̫͡•ʔ•̫͡•ʕ•̫͡•ʔ•̫͡•ʔ
˚✧₊⁎ Carmilla Carmine ⁎⁺˳✧༚
As much as she loves spending her mornings in bed with you, wishfully thinking she could stay there all day, she can only give you 3 more minutes at best. Being an Overlord and a CEO keeps her rather busy. You’re grown, you can handle yourself (you have to in this world) she’s not keeping tabs on your whereabouts. Carmilla isn’t itching for a fight like these new “up and comers”. Giving you something to protect you when she’s not around simultaneously puts a target on your back. A simple ring with her name inscribed would suffice, satisfying any possessive vices she may or may not have
˚✧₊⁎ Zestial ⁎⁺˳✧༚
Abhorrent is jealousy, driving the younger generations to filth like, ugh, hickeys. Although, on a certain level he does understand. Being in Hell for as long as he has and alone the same amount, he knows all too well the primal need to claim what other’s might steal. One must leave their mark as a warning sign for others. Zestial’s exceptionally charming when he wants something, notably not asking when he presents you with the crisply wrapped gifts. There’s no less than twenty. Boxes upon boxes of accessories and clothes that suit you but hold his color palette, spider and web details to boot. He’s utterly thrilled when you wear them, showering you in compliments and declaring himself the luckiest soul in Hell
˚✧₊⁎ Rosie ⁎⁺˳✧༚
Goodness, have you seen how sinners nowadays go about the whole ordeal? What happened to romance!? Call her old fashioned, but Rosie likes a smidge of glamour in her techniques! She’ll walk shoulder to shoulder with you, holding her parasail over the both of you. She’ll accidentally press her painted lips on your cheek and forget, quickly getting swept up into conversation with someone or the other. It’s fine, no one would question her! Not if they wanted to live anyways. Butterflies swarm her stomach when she notices you haven’t wiped her imprint away, a proud smile spreading across her face. It becomes purposeful as the days go on
˚✧₊⁎ Alastor ⁎⁺˳✧༚
While happy to broadcast newsworthy exploits, sharing his private affairs with the world is out of the question. Of course the appeal of it all isn’t lost on him, he merely doesn’t see the point. Why broaden your horizons of potential dangers by claiming you publicly? To calm that unruly, covetous alien in the pit of his chest? He’s not that selfish! Besides, nothing less than something permanent could truly satisfy him anyhow
˚✧₊⁎ Valentino ⁎⁺˳✧༚
If he doesn’t have eyes on you, he’s working. Those measley hours apart won’t stop him from reminding all of Hell you still belong to him. He doesn’t trust anyone down here. He’ll convince you it’s for your safety that he tightens the collar around your neck. With a hum of approval, Val’s long and slender fingers twist the tag with his name on it. Heart shaped, of course, he loves you after all!
˚✧₊⁎ Vox ⁎⁺˳✧༚
Only the insecure need to put a claim on their person. That’s not Vox, no way! You’re never really out of his sights anyways, what with today’s power of technology and all! The need to brand you goes a different route. He wants everyone to know you’re spoken for, pulling you on camera every chance he gets. He wants them to stare in awe and envy but cast their eyes down when you walk by in public. A slight on you would be a slight on him personally and no one messes with The Vees
˚✧₊⁎ Velvette ⁎⁺˳✧༚
Truthfully, there isn’t much she wouldn’t do. You’re all over her Sinstagram and that says it all. Every runway show, every red carpet walk, every paparazzi shot you’re always beside her. Vel dresses you left and right to match her OOTD somehow. She snaps a pic every single day (sometimes more) to show her followers their favorite couple is thriving and stylish as always! The description never fails to scream how your all hers
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swampthingking · 1 month
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can’t study for my test because i’m having brain rot about neil accidentally getting super drunk and stumbling up to aaron like “andrew???” and aaron is like “wrong one” and neil is like “andrew.” and aaron is like “???? are you stupid” and neil goes to look for andrew but he stumbles into the table, and aaron has to catch him or he will get trampled for fucks sake, and neil just collapses into him in a drunk cuddly heap. and aaron is like “neil. you need to stand up” and neil is like “i am” and aaron is like “that’s because i’m holding you up” and they get neil to stand but neil kinda just flops into aaron’s arms again. and neil is like “i don’t hate you, i don’t, but it’s okay if you hate me” and aaron is like “ugh, ew are you really an emotional drunk???” and neil, to aaron’s horror, looks at him with tears in his eyes because you know when you’re too drunk and you kind of just get a little scared and you need help???? ya. and aaron is like … ok. and kinda holds neil until andrew comes back from the bar with more drinks. and he sees neil basically asleep on aaron’s shoulder, and aaron looking uncomfortable but accepting, so he kinda raises an eyebrow, an okay? and aaron nods and is just patting neil on his back
and tomorrow they’ll wake up and neil will toddle downstairs with his hand against his temple and aaron will have advil ready for him, and he’ll say “you’re annoying and you don’t know when to shut your mouth or mind your own business, but i don’t hate you” and the thank you for helping repair my relationship with my brother and thank you for testifying and thank you for staying goes unsaid but yeah
and that’s how aaron and neil became kind of friends
edit: vomited out a one shot for y’all (this will prob become a 5+1)
Aaron swirled his drink a few times, listening to the ice clacking against the glass.
Eden’s was packed tonight, courtesy of it being the end of the school year. College students and the regular patrons flocked to the bar, the dance floor, and all of the tables, leaving Aaron to reserve a high-top table, and his legs to dangle from the stool.
“Drew?”
Aaron ignored him in favor of the twinkling sound the ice makes in his glass. He’d already taken shots, danced, had another drink, danced again, and now Aaron’s body was heavy with alcohol and exhaustion.
“Drew,” Neil said again.
Aaron looked around their table and didn’t see Andrew. He remembered Andrew getting up and walking to the bar with their empty tray. Aaron found him a few seconds later, hands in his pockets at the bar. That and Neil, staring up at him, looking uneasy.
Before Aaron could tell Neil to get out of his face, Neil was speaking.
“Are you’nt having fun?” Neil frowned, blinking sleepy, hooded eyes at him. He leaned closer to study Aaron’s face.
“What are you doing?” Aaron grumbled, pushing Neil’s face away.
Aaron hadn’t even pushed him hard, he more removed Neil from his space rather than pushed him, but Neil wobbled like his world had tilted out of orbit. Aaron realized, quickly, that Neil was going to fall backwards. He grabbed two fistfuls of Neil’s shirt and pulled him forwards. Neil’s head lulled on his shoulders with the force, his chin hitting his chest then righting itself.
Aaron’s stomach lurched, sick with the thought that someone had put something in one of Neil’s drinks, as he would for anyone, but thankfully he’s never been put in that situation. Neil’s eyes were hooded, his face flushed. Aaron snapped once at Neil’s ear, and Neil recoiled immediately.
“Does your head hurt or anything?” Aaron asked. Neil shook his head, frowning.
“Are you dizzy? Follow my finger.” Aaron pushes Neil back so he can see his face, keeping one hand on Neil’s shoulder to hold him up. Neil follows Aaron’s finger as it moves back and forth, albeit a little labored, but not as if he’d been roofied. Aaron declares that Neil’s reaction times and responses are fine, but he still pulls the front of his shirt up and checks his belt, the button of his pants.
“What—?” Neil slapped a hand on his abdomen, stopping his shirt from being lifted any higher. Aaron didn’t need to see anything but his pants, but it was reassuring that Neil still had inhibitions.
His clothes were fine. His belt was still done, zipper up. No one had tried anything. Aaron relaxed.
“Sorry,” Aaron said. “Sorry, I just needed to…”
While racking his mind back to why Neil is this drunk, Aaron remembered Neil taking shots with Aaron, Nicky, and Kevin. Four shots. He’d seen Neil sip on another drink like the idiot had the tolerance for alcohol that the rest of them had.
“You’re a fucking idiot,” Aaron said and released Neil. Neil attempted to step back, his hands raised in surrender.
“No?” Neil asked warily. Even drunk as fuck, he still respected boundaries. Andrew’s boundaries specifically, as it still hadn’t registered that he wasn’t talking to the right twin.
“I’m not Andrew,” Aaron said.
“Where’s Andrew?” Neil asked, turning his head pathetically in search. Aaron only had a good view of Andrew because they were seated at a high-top. Over the throng of taller people coupled with strobing lights, Neil’s view was obstructed.
“At the bar,” Aaron nodded in that direction.
Neil turned towards the bar. Well, he attempted to. He pivoted, lost his balance, and toppled into the table. He tried to right himself and started to fall to the other side. Aaron caught Neil before he could bust his shit and get trampled.
“Jesus Christ, Josten,” Aaron spat, righting Neil with hands on his biceps. Neil slapped a hand on the table and leaned his weight on it. The table quaked under such abuse, but held.
Neil turned slowly, grappling against the table as if he was standing in one of those spinning fair rides. In his excursion to simply spin 180°, his hand slipped off the edge of the table as he faced Aaron once again. He reached for the table, missed, reached for it again, missed, said, “Motherfucker,” under his breath, and finally gripped onto the edge. His eyes locked on Aaron’s again, and Neil’s useless hand landed on Aaron’s shoulder.
“Andrew,” Neil said. Aaron didn’t know if it was more a request or if it was just not registering.
“Wrong,” Aaron said, tense under Neil’s hand, but he didn’t push him off. He’d rather hold Neil up than peel him off the floor. “Aaron.”
“‘m very drunk,” Neil said, looking up pleadingly at Aaron as if he had a magical cure to shitfacedness, and all Neil had to do for it was look a little scared. “I’m sorry.”
“Why?” Aaron asked.
“I’m drunk.”
Aaron snorted. “That’s kind of the point when you’re at a bar.”
“But,” Neil said, taking a labored breath, “I’m…too drunk.”
This was beginning to feel exceedingly similar to speaking to a child. Aaron was annoyed, but not completely heartless, unlike the narrative of Aaron Neil had likely concocted. “It’s okay, Neil,” Aaron said. “You should sit down.”
Neil promptly sat as if there was a chair under him, but there was not. Aaron, still holding Neil vertical, got pulled out of his chair with the momentum. To avoid toppling to the ground—which did not get mopped as often as it should—Aaron planted his feet on the floor and hauled Neil up by his armpits.
“Help,” Neil murmured. His arms dropped to his sides as he yielded his dead weight to Aaron.
“Stand up,” Aaron grunted, readjusting to wrap an arm around Neil’s back. One of Neil’s arms flopped over Aaron’s shoulder.
“I am,” Neil complained.
“No, you are not.”
“I am.”
“Neil,” Aaron said through clenched teeth, “I am holding you up. You need to lock your knees.”
“Oh,” Neil said. He looked at his feet as if he needed to check they were on the ground.
To be fair, Neil did lock his knees, but he also leaned all of his upper body on Aaron, arms still hanging limply at his sides. He tucked his head into Aaron’s neck with, what seemed, every intention to make a home there for the night.
“Neil,” Aaron said, frozen against the hair tickling his cheek. “God dammit.”
“And…ron,” Neil spoke against his shoulder.
“Yes,” Aaron said sarcastically. “That’s me.”
“Can I j’stay here?” Neil slurred.
From what Aaron had seen of Neil’s dynamic with his brother, he knew Neil would get off if he said no. He could place Neil into a stool or pull up a chair with a back so he wouldn’t fall out and concuss himself. He could shove Neil off and make him fend for himself. He could pawn him off to Andrew.
At the moment, those other options seemed like far too much work.
That, or maybe it was the med student in him, the intrinsic urge to heal and help and nurture that smarted at the thought of pushing Neil off.
Aaron didn’t push him off when Neil readjusted and tucked an arm into his chest, the other gripping Aaron for stability. He didn’t when Neil asked again, a quiet, “Aaron.”
“Okay,” Aaron conceded. He rubbed a hand up and down Neil’s back placatingly, but also because Neil seemed like he needed it. And he came to Aaron for it. Well, he came to Andrew and got Aaron. But he didn’t push Aaron off, and Aaron hasn’t done the same.
And they just…stood like that. For what seemed like a long time, but it probably was only a few minutes before Neil spoke again.
“Aaron,” Neil said.
Aaron hummed in response.
“I don’ hate you.”
“What?” Aaron asked. “What the fuck are you talking about, Neil?”
“I don’t hate you.”
“What?” Aaron said again.
“I don’wanna fight.” Neil lets out a colossal breath.
“We haven’t fought in a long time,” Aaron says, his idea of agreement. Acceptance.
Neil was quiet, because it was true. Neil seemed content to lay in Aaron’s arms, and Aaron didn’t have another stool next to him. He sure as shit wasn’t giving his up for Neil, but Neil was genuinely so unsteady on his feet that Aaron couldn’t let him go.
He trembled a bit, and Aaron was almost amused that after everything Neil had been through, being a little too drunk is what finally did it for him.
But Aaron had felt that way before. Inebriated and scared in a crowded room of strangers. Neil, however, has people he knows. How can Aaron be upset at Neil for wanting the comfort that he also craved? How can he be upset that Neil feels safe enough with Andrew to ask for help? That his brother finally feels safe with someone too?
“Aaron,” Neil said.
“What,” Aaron said.
“It’s okay if you hate me.”
“Oh God,” Aaron groaned, “Ew. Are you really an emotional drunk?”
Neil pulled back and, to Aaron’s horror, there were actual tears in his eyes. His lip trembled as he bit it, holding the tears in. Aaron hated how much of himself he was seeing in Neil tonight. The harrowing fact that maybe they are quite similar.
“Oh God,” Aaron said again, mortified. He grabbed the back of Neil’s head and shoved it back into his shoulder, effectively hiding Neil’s teary face.
He cast a desperate look to Andrew, who was finally on his way back to the table. He patted Neil on the shoulder, like one would burp a baby when they have no idea how to do so.
“Andrew.”
Andrew didn’t need prompting to look. His eyes were trained on Neil and Aaron from the moment he turned around. By the nonchalance of his movements and his lack of alarm, Aaron guessed he had been watching their interaction.
Andrew set the tray down on the table and cast a significant look between them, settling on Neil’s intoxicated form keeled over on Aaron’s shoulder.
Andrew raises one eyebrow, a silent question, an okay?
Aaron finds himself nodding, and unsure why. All he knows right now, a few drinks in, is that he doesn’t hate this. And he doesn’t hate that Neil doesn’t hate him.
-
The smell of coffee set Neil’s feet moving like a Pavlovian response. He was half awake already with a pounding headache, like his eyeballs were beating his closed lids to death.
Neil toddles down the stairs with his eyes closed, a hand pressed hard to his temple, stabilizing his brain.
Aaron was standing at the counter already, facing the sputtering coffee pot. His arms were crossed, hair ruffled from sleep. At the sound of footsteps behind him, he turned.
The memories from last night played past Neil’s mind like a sped-up movie. He grimaced in embarrassment, and felt a little sick at how drunk he was. How stupid he was, to drink that much. He should have known his tolerance isn’t matched with the rest of them. He could have gotten hurt, could have said something—
Fuck.
“Fuck,” Neil said, covering his eyes. “I’m sorry.”
“It’s fine,” Aaron said. He turned back to the coffee, though his posture was rigid.
Neil grabbed a glass of water. He noticed Aaron watching from the corner of his eye, but Neil chose to ignore him, figuring that’s best. He sat on the counter with his water, sipping it slowly while he and Aaron waited for the coffee to finish brewing.
The silence was thick, but they were both too stubborn to leave the kitchen. Usually, they preferred to wait and pretend the other wasn’t there.
That’s what Neil thought, at least. After a painful few minutes, Aaron huffed and grabbed the bottle of Advil from the drawer next to the sink. He shook two pills out and sat them next to Neil.
Neil stared at them until Aaron cast a pointed look at the pills, then physically gestured to them with raised brows. Neil took them while Aaron watched.
The coffee pot beeped. Aaron made a split second decision, grabbing two mugs and pouring coffee into them. He slid Neil’s across the counter. It sloshed over the side, but Aaron wasn’t capable of caring at the moment. His mind was busy, and he knew Neil had noticed his lack of eye contact; the analytical fuck.
“Look,” Aaron said. He did not look at Neil to say it. “You’re annoying, and you never know when to shut your mouth or mind your business. Most of the time, I’m convinced you have a death wish, and a lot of the time I find myself resenting you. You complicated our lives, put us all in danger, didn’t give a shit.”
Neil’s chest hurt. He didn’t know if it was anger or guilt. Aaron started talking again before he could figure it out.
“But I don’t hate you. I can’t, really. I can’t even fault you for the shitty things you did, because it all worked out.” Aaron glanced quickly at Neil, looked away. His cheeks were red.
The thank you for helping repair my relationship with my brother and thank you for testifying and thank you for being good to Andrew went unsaid, but Aaron hoped Neil wasn’t obtuse enough to force him to say it out loud.
Neil must have understood, because he nodded. Aaron figured that was as close to a reconciliation they were going to have, so he leaned against the counter and pretended everything was normal.
For the first time, they drank their coffee in silence without animosity orchestrating it.
Neil’s mug was half empty when Andrew joined them. He paused in the doorway, squinty eyed and mussed, looking between the two. Neil on the counter, Aaron leaning against it. Their silence, but lack of tension.
“This is weird,” Andrew finally said, his voice gravely from sleep.
“Yeah,” Neil and Aaron said simultaneously.
Neil glanced over his mug at Aaron, the corner of his mouth twitching. Aaron regarded it, but looked away, because something like contentment had made its way onto Andrew’s face.
Aaron smiled at that instead.
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slayfics · 5 months
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Katsuki gets caught being sweet to you.
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You started to finally catch your breath being at the top of the hiking trail Katsuki had dragged you out too.
"Alright there, it's just us up here so tell me already. What the hell has been going on?"
"That's why you brought me out here?" You asked.
"Just tell me already, stop being so damn stubborn." He pried you impatiently.
"I told you I'm fine Bakugo, just busy like everyone else." You replied.
"Don't give me that shit. Do you think I'm stupid? The other extras are too dense to notice but I can see how exhausted you've been this whole week. So just tell me- what's going on," He said.
"You didn't need to drag me out here on a hike in freezing weather to do this, you know," You said, slightly irritated at Katsuki continuing to push you.
"Ugh- will you stop stalling and talk already," He yelled, causing you to let out an annoyed sigh. Katsuki put his hands in his pockets and looked out at the view, his demeanor softening slightly. "You can talk to me, you know," he added, his voice lower and kinder than before.
You stayed looking at the view for a few more moments trying to figure out how to unpack everything that had been stressing you out. It wasn't like some big thing, but a summation of a bunch of little things that were beginning to become too challenging to manage.
A cold breeze blew by causing you to shiver. You wondered why Katsuki had insisted on bringing you up this mountain to talk to you. He could have pestered you in your dorm where it was warm.
Katsuki stole glances at you occasionally then focused back on the view not wanting to intimidate you too much from his glare. Hiking always helped him to clear his mind and gather his thoughts when they seemed too loud. He thought maybe it would help you too, and being away from all your classmates might make it easier for you to talk to him. At the very least it made it easier for Katsuki to be more vulnerable with you. He found it too daunting to express himself fully with all the attention of his classmates around. It was much easier being only in your company.
You took a deep breath, "I guess- it's just been hard to balance everything recently," You finally spoke, breaking the silence. Katsuki made it easy to open up to, as he had no problem sitting in silence for long extended periods. Others in your life felt the need to fill that silence with useless chatter which always prevented you from sitting in your emotions and being able to formulate them into words.
You took in another breath feeling a lump in your throat form. You hadn't wanted to talk to anyone about what was going on for fear of opening up the flood of emotions and not being able to stop. Now here it was. You didn't want to cry on this fucking hill.
Katsuki patiently waited while you gathered your thoughts.
"It's just been so much and I've been barely keeping up. It's- been getting to me recently. I've been forgetting things I shouldn't. Being unusually upset at things that aren't that big of a deal- and I just- it's dumb." You cut yourself off afraid to say anymore.
"It's not dumb. Don't hold that shit in, it's not healthy," He said encouraging you to keep talking.
You sighed, "I just... know that it could be way worse, and I've been through way worse so- I feel so irritated at myself. What I'm going through now isn't something I can't handle. I know that. So why do I feel so fucking exhausted with everything," You replied wiping a stray tear from your cheek.
"Hmm," Katsuki grunted, processing what you said. "You know, it's ok to be tired, and- to not be perfect. You can't just deny yourself from feeling overwhelmed because it could be worse. If you're exhausted now then those feelings are real- and it's ok to have them," He spoke.
You looked down at the view watching the distant cars pass, "Thanks," You managed to say taking another deep breath.
"You shouldn't wait to handle them until they explode either. Trust me, I know what that's like," He said, causing you to let out a small giggle. "You're too damn hard on yourself you know that?"
You let out a full laugh, "Oh that's pretty good coming from you. You're the pro at having too high expectations for yourself," you laughed.
You and Katsuki were wrapped up in your conversation causing you not to notice approaching classmates in the distance. Mina and Eijiro had also decided to come up the hill after class and spotted both of you in the distance.
"That looks like we shouldn't interrupt," Eijiro said.
"Yeah," Mina agreed. "But maybe... we could get a little closer to make sure everything is ok?" She said, pulling Eijiro into the bushes to spy on you and Katsuki. Eijiro was highly against the plan but was unable to protest for fear of you two hearing.
"Yeah I know I have high expectations for myself... that's why I know what it fucking looks like when you're being too hard on yourself. So- tonight I'm coming to your dorm and, I'm making sure you get to bed at a reasonable fucking time."
Mina's eyes widened as she looked at Eijiro, "Coming to their dorm?!" She whispered, and Eijrio covered her mouth, silencing her.
"You mean Grandpa time at 9 p.m.?"
"Shut up! 9 p.m. is late as hell! You damn idiots just don't know how to have a good sleep schedule! Look I'm making sure you get some sleep and tomorrow I'm taking you out. So- figure out where you want to eat, I don't care where. And I'm not letting you say no you need a break," Katsuki replied.
"You don't have to do that Bakugo."
"Of course, I don't have to but, I want to. So just shut up and let me take care of you ok. You better not be afraid to order enough food this time either! I'm buying so- just get whatever you want, alright?"
"Ok ok," You laughed, feeling your mood brighten.
"Next time, just tell me when you're having a bad day or something. Stop making me drag it out of you. I- worry about you, you know? Now let's go back to the dorms. I see you shivering," He said, beginning to walk back down the hill.
Mina squirmed again under Eijiro's hand, keeping her silent. Her eyes said it all. She was in disbelief at Katsuki's words.
"Here," Katsuki said, holding his hand out and offering it to you. "I'll warm your hand with my quirk," he said.
You grabbed his hand interlacing your fingers with his.
"Don't dare say anything about how sweaty my hands are!" He barked.
You giggled, "How many times do I have to tell you I don't care Bakugo. It's part of your quirk, and your quirk is amazing you shouldn't be self-conscious about it. Besides, I'm always happy to hold your hand," You said as you two walked down the mountain.
"Tch whatever," Katsuki grumbled looking away from you as a small tint grew on his cheeks.
Finally, when you and Katsuki were far enough down the hill, Eijiro released Mina.
"WHAT WAS THAT?!?" Mina exclaimed.
"Shh shhh," Eijiro pleaded.
"WHAT- He wants to take care of them?!? OH MY GOD! They are totally dating right?! That's what he said he's taking them out to eat! And he's sneaking into their dorm! Wait wait- when they held hands it sounded like that had before! AND AND BAKUGO WAS TOTALLY BLUSHING! NO WAY!" Mina said looking like she might pass out from all this information.
"Ashido relax, we shouldn't have heard any of that!" Eijiro replied.
"Yeah but but-" Mina exclaimed, her head spinning. "Who knew Baklugo could actually be so sweet! I can't wait to tell Jiro-" She said, pulling out her phone.
"NO!" Eijiro said, grabbing her phone from her. "Uh- sorry, I didn't mean to be so harsh but- you can't tell anyone what we heard ok?" Eijiro said.
"WHAT?! I just heard Bakugo being the sweetest boyfriend ever and you expect me not to say anything about that?!"
"YES!" Eijiro yelled. "Look they both like their privacy and there is a reason they were all the way up here talking, Ashido. I think we should keep this a secret and let them do things at their own pace ok?" He said, handing Mina back her phone.
"UGH-" She exclaimed letting out a big sigh. "I guess you're right... but wow who would have thought Bakugo could be a decent person much less a good boyfriend." She said.
Eijiro just shrugged at her words, "I don't know he's not a bad guy like you all make him out to be you know."
"Wait! You totally already knew didn't you!" Mina said, slapping Eijiro's shoulder.
"Hey! I mean- Bakugo is my best friend you know, so yeah I did..." He answered truthfully.
"You suck! Keeping secrets like that from me!" Mina said playfully, waving a finger at him.
"I'm sorry, but it's their business you know?" He said.
"Yeah I understand, guess we should go back to the dorms too now," Mina suggested.
"Yeah it is pretty cold up here, let's go." He agreed as they both started to walk down the hill. "I don't have Bakugo's quirk or anything but- if you're cold you can hold my hand too if you want," Eijiro suggested.
Mina's face tinted a darker pink as she reached out and grabbed Eijiro's hand.
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Tags: @unofficialmuilover @maddietries
Picture taken from @everypanelofkatsuki, thank you for all your hard work! Go check them out if you haven’t!
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tenelkadjowrites · 7 months
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Video Girl - Seonghwa x Reader (NSFW)
📼 Summary: On the cusp of 1998, your quiet life working at a department store is upended when an attractive new coworker named Seonghwa awakens your desire for sexual exploration.
📼 Word count: 22k
📼 Genre and warnings: smut one shot. coworkers to lovers. fem pronouns for reader. use of a camera during sex. oral sex. unprotected sex. creampie.
📼 fic playlist here.
this fic is not meant to represent seonghwa in any way, shape or form.
Monday, October 6th, 1997
“What happened to the stack of CDs I put right there?”
               “Right where?”
               “Right there,” You gesture to the empty space that once housed a cluster of CDs that needed to be put on the shelf.
               Your coworker, San, pops his head up from where he had been busy sorting through one of the boxes of new inventory. His brows furrow while staring at the spot as if he could magically make the CDs appear.
               “What was it?”
               “The new Janet Jackson album.”
               “The new…oh shit, wait, I might’ve knocked it into this other box,” He ducks back down out of your view and you hear him wildly rummaging around.
               With a sigh, you slump against the shelf and stare out at the store which closed half an hour ago. Now, you’re stuck restocking new releases in the CD and VHS section for another hour before your shift ends. At least there are no customers, you think gratefully.
               “What’s it called?” San asks, still trying to find what he accidentally misplaced.
               “The Velvet Rope, I think,” You reply, wishing your feet didn’t hurt so much.
               The stack of CDs really isn’t that important but you just needed an excuse to take a break. It’s been a long day, working a double to cover for someone else, and you were sick of being here about three hours ago. The vest you have to wear while clocked in has long been discarded, tossed onto the counter as soon as the last customer finally got the hell out.
               “Wait, I found it,” San says with the same enthusiasm of someone completing a lifelong goal. He circles around the aisle, holding the pile of CDs, “Where should I put them?”
               “I’m just stacking them next to Mariah Carey,” You reply while taking them out of his hands and turning back to the shelf, “I don’t care.”
               “Fine by me.”
               You’ve worked with San for two years now and know him as well as one can know another coworker. He rarely missed a shift, probably because he enjoyed flirting with the women who wandered into the electronics section too much. There were two things San liked to do outside of work: work out and go clubbing with his best friend, Wooyoung. He was good looking to the point that even the ugly work mandated vest couldn’t take away from his jawline sculpted out of marble.
               “Thanks for helping me out,” San says.
               “It’s cool, dude. I really did not feel like working in my department tonight.”
               “You’re sick of organizing all the tube tops? Don’t see any of them you want for yourself?” He jokes, knowing how bored you are of working in the women’s clothing department.
               You make a face. “Ugh, as if.”
               San leans against the shelf, crossing his arms. “Did you hear about the new guy they hired for the men’s department?”
               “No,” You reply, uninterested.
               “I heard he’s good looking,” A thought strikes him and in an alarmed tone, he goes, “You don’t think he’s better looking than me, do you?”
               You shove the last CD onto the shelf although it teeters close to the edge. You stare at it, willing that it doesn’t fall and when the case stays in place, you finally turn your attention to San. “Why, worried you’re going to no longer be the Resident Hottie?”
               “Pfft, no. But…you’ll let me know, won’t you?”
               You lean down and pick up one of the boxes of CDs, balancing it on your knee until you get a better hold on it. “Why are you buggin about a new hire?”
               “I’m not buggin about him,” San protests quickly.
               “Yes, you totally are. I’m sure he’s nothing special. Don’t worry about it,” You turn away from San, getting ready to head down another aisle to finish putting the CDs away, “I can’t even remember the last time we hired someone who impacted me outside of asking and then promptly forgetting their name.”
               San looks mollified, taking comfort in the fact that everyone knows he is the hottest guy working in the store. You plop the box down, sorting through it to see what to put away first.
               The routine is comforting in that sort of mind numbing manner, the same pace of your life unchanging with no disruptions on the horizon. Tomorrow, you’d wake up and be here again to sort out ugly women’s clothing and clean up the fitting rooms after old ladies leave piles everywhere.
               That’s how it always goes, how it will continue to go.
Tuesday, October 7th, 1997
               “I don’t want this one,” A customer declares, thrusting a crushed velvet mini dress into your arms, “Or this.” A denim dress is tossed as the customer saunters off back into the aisles of clothing racks.
               You stand there, momentarily bunching the fabric in your hands with irritation before collecting your features into a pleasant expression. You go back to organizing the clothing from the fitting room racks to put them away. There are two hours left in your shift and your feet hurt yet again.
               “Sorry, I don’t mean to interrupt,” A voice cuts cleanly through the music being piped into the building. It is deep, almost melodious and you look over your shoulder curiously, expecting to see a lost looking man trying to find something to buy for his wife or girlfriend.
               There is, in fact, a lost looking man standing there but his blue vest indicates he’s a coworker. The slightly confused expression combined with the outfit leads you to believe this is the man San had been talking about the other night.
               “I just started working here yesterday and the person who was supposed to be training me called out so I’m running the men’s department alone. I just had some questions and was hoping you could help me.”
               The man is tall and slender with black hair carefully combed. The ugly blue vest does nothing to take away from his uniquely pretty face – beautiful brown eyes with a strong nose, perfectly straight white teeth and full lips. In his hands is a small collection of clothing, long fingers splayed out across to stop it from tumbling onto the floor. His shoes look brand new, the shine making it obvious. A belt loops around his small waist, wearing simple dress slacks.
               You’re so used to going through the motions at work, typically zoned out that only something absolutely wild could shatter you from that usual feeling. Seeing someone so pretty against the backdrop of the woman’s department brings you up short.
               “Uhhhh,” You go before managing to collect yourself swiftly, replying, “Yeah, I can help you,” Your eyes fall onto his nametag, and you tentatively say his name aloud for the first time, “Seonghwa.”
               He smiles, a sort of strange smile in which he looks vastly uncomfortable, saying your own name after reading it from your tag. You trail after him, cutting through the organized racks of the women’s department into the general shitshow of the men’s.
               For some reason, it was impossible to keep a full team in the men’s section. They always quit or just stopped showing up. Over the two years you worked here, you normally didn’t speak to anyone in the men’s department too much since they never seemed to last long. That meant the department always looked like a group of wild school children tore through it regularly and today is no exception.
               Seonghwa takes you to a large box dumped unceremoniously onto the counter near the men’s fitting rooms. “I was told to process these returns but I don’t…actually know how to do that,” He admits bashfully.
               “Oh, it’s not difficult. I can show you.”
               He looks relieved, thanking you. As you begin to show Seonghwa the process, you sneak a glance at his face out of the corner of your eye. His eyelashes are long, his lips prettily plump and his skin seemingly perfect. What planet did this dude come from? You wonder, unsure how someone like him stumbled into working at a store like this.
               “You know how to fold the clothes the right way?” You ask at one point.
               “Yeah, I’ve worked retail before in my last town.”
               “Oh, you moved here?”
               Seonghwa looks up as you hand him a particularly ugly dress shirt made from a shiny fabric. In the horrendous fluorescent lights which make almost everyone look garish, he seems to be immune.
               “Yeah, just a couple weeks ago. Not far away, just a few towns over.” He quickly changes the subject off himself, “Have you worked here long?”
               “Around two years.”
               “Do you like it?”
               “It’s retail,” You reply dryly, “I think it is the same everywhere.”
               The corners of his lips turn up for a second. “Yeah, I guess you’re right.”
               Seonghwa turns his attention back to the pile of clothes, folding them swiftly. You watch the way his long fingers smooth out the fabric before expertly folding it. Every movement of his seems to be precise and completely under control, a far cry from yourself.
               “Are you settling in okay then?” You ask, trying to wiggle more information out of this professional handsome guy who for some reason is working at this shitty store instead of modeling overseas somewhere.
               He carefully folds another shirt while replying, “Yeah, I’m doing alright. Have you always lived here?” Another deflection. It’s growing obvious Seonghwa doesn’t want to talk about himself.
               “Yeah, I have. It’s really nothing special though. Pretty generic place.” You study his face while asking the next question, “Why did you pick here?”
               Without missing a beat, he goes, “It was convenient. What do you like the most about living here?”
               You find his answer curious but decide asking Seonghwa questions is pointless because he only swiftly tries to put the conversation back on you.
               Stumped by his question, mostly because nothing really comes to mind, you finally settle on, “The weather is alright.”
               He tilts his face in your direction at your answer, one eyebrow slightly raised. “That’s it?”
               You shrug, “Yeah, I guess.”
               His gaze is heavy on you, a beat too long before turning his attention back to folding the clothes. You swallow hard, wondering why you feel so unnerved. As beautiful as Seonghwa is, he has the sort of intense presence that knocks you a little off balance, almost as if he can see some part of yourself that most people cannot.
               “Alright, finished.” His voice brings you back to the moment as he picks up the clothing, “Do I just put them back now?”
               “Yup, that’s it. Do you want me to help you?”
               “No, I got it. I should start learning where everything goes,” He turns to go and then stops, looking over his shoulder, “Thanks for your help. I appreciate it.”
               “It’s no biggie. You can pop over again if you have any other questions.”
               He smiles again, exposing the most perfect teeth you’ve ever seen. “Alright, thanks. Talk to you later.”
               You give him a small wave, turning around to head back to your section, wondering why you feel so thrown off balance over someone you’ve known for ten minutes.
*
               “So, how is he?”
               “Who?”
               “Don’t play coy with me,” San says, leaning closer to you, “The new guy.”
               You’re in the break room, poking at the unappealing lunch you brought. The break room is covered in tacky motivational posters, a bulletin board filled with random flyers about things like worker safety, requesting time off and a garage sale ad. A small TV in the corner shows the local news. The image, as usual, is extra grainy due to the bad signal off the cheap antenna. There is no break from the harsh fluorescents even in this room.
               “You saw him, didn’t you?” He presses.
               You relent and reply with a casual, “Yeah, I saw him.”
               “And? What’s he like? Is he hotter than me?”
               Another noncommittal shrug. “He’s…different. He’s friendly, don’t get me wrong, but he seems distant. I guess he moved here from a town nearby. That’s all I know about him.” San is staring at you with a serious expression on his face. You shift uncomfortably in the hard chair, finally glaring at him. “What?”
               He points at you sternly. “You do think he’s fine.”
               “What?” You bluster. “Where the hell did you get that idea?”
               San gestures wildly. “It’s written all over your face! We talk about every new hire in detail and now suddenly, you give me a couple of sentences. What spell did he cast on you?”
               “No spell,” You say crossly, irritated at somehow being too obvious when believing you played it cool, “You’re caring too much about my opinion.”
               He slumps back in his chair, crossing his arms, pouting. With a sigh, you push your meal away and turn to face him.
               “Come on, dude. You’re giving a new hire way too much power. Everyone knows you’re all that and a bag of chips. You think the confused old ladies who still don’t understand what a cordless phone is are not gonna be charmed by you? That they’re suddenly going to head to the men’s department instead?”
               “They tip me, you know,” San says defensively, “That’s why it’s important to me. They give me a couple of bucks when I finish explaining what a portable CD player is compared to their 8 track.”
               You skirt around the fact it is against company police to take cash tips from customers, opting to continue reassuring him instead.  “Don’t give someone else so much power. I mean, look at the size of your arms. No one in the store can compare with that.”
               “That’s true,” He says begrudgingly, “Fine. And I’ll give the new guy a shot only cuz you think he’s fly.”
               “I don’t – will you stop –” You sputter.
               San stands up, snatching his work vest off the table and slipping it back on. “Alright, I’m going. Talk to you later.”
               You say bye, now alone in the break room. Normally, you relish the quiet moments here without a coworker talking your ear off. But you’re longing for a pointless discussion, some sort of distraction from the fact that you’ve spent ten minutes around Seonghwa and are seemingly attracted to him.
               You’ve fallen into such a routine between work, occasionally going out on the weekends, and watching TV that suddenly finding someone hot is like an electric bolt to your chest. Things have been quiet for so long, in both your mind and life, that the last thing you want to deal with is forming an attraction to a coworker.
               Luckily, Seonghwa seems intent to keep mostly to himself. The emotional distance should help, you think, should make it easier not to get swept up in some guy.
Wednesday, October 8th, 1997
               Once it hits 4pm, all you care about is punching out and getting home. You’re so wrapped up in this that when you turn around to dart out of the back room, you collide immediately into Seonghwa.
               It’s like striking a wall. Even though he’s slender, his body is firm, resulting in you ungracefully flailing for a moment. His hands go to your upper arms to steady you, allowing yourself to recover from toppling back against the wall.
               “Sorry, I wasn’t paying attention.” You’re embarrassed by being so spaced out.
               Seonghwa, who you have successfully avoided all day, doesn’t seem to be impacted by the collision. He’s still in his work vest but today he’s wearing a long sleeve black shirt. His hands rest on your upper arms and your eyes drop to his fingers, taking note of how they look against the fabric of your clothing.
               He clears his throat gently, a mild noise of embarrassment, before dropping his hands back to his sides. “No, I should have let you know I was behind you. My shift is done too so I was just punching out.”
               You shuffle to the side, letting Seonghwa finish up. Your heart is beating quickly in that annoying way you’ve been trying to avoid since your last relationship. You should just say goodbye now and head out. But your feet refuse to obey and you find yourself lingering to walk out with Seonghwa.
               After shaking out of his work vest and tossing it unceremoniously into his locker, he leans against it, watching as you fumble with your own lock.
               “How was your day?”
               “Uh, it was alright. What about you? You settling in okay with everything?” You successfully open your locker, shoving your own work vest in there and grabbing your bag.
               Turning to meet Seonghwa’s gaze, your eyes unintentionally flick down to his torso. His long sleeve shirt fits him a little too well, is a little too snug, and you’re now acutely aware of his small waist on top of the fact he’s definitely in shape.
               “Yeah, it’s going well. A bit disorganized but it’s fine.”
               The two of you are leaving the backroom together, cutting through the electronics section. San is milling around in front of a display of Tamagotchis which is already half empty. He glances up and notices you, waving.
               “Hey,” He goes, “Oh, you’re the new guy, right?”
               You’re secretly hoping San doesn’t embarrass you. Even though you denied thinking Seonghwa is attractive yesterday, you know that San doesn’t believe you for a second.
               Seonghwa introduces himself and then glances at the display. “These things go fast, don’t they?”
               “Tell me about it. I end up having to restock the display every shift,” San replies disgruntled, “I don’t get it. An electronic pet?”
               “I had a Tamagotchi,” Seonghwa muses, “It kept beeping while I was sleeping so I shoved it in a drawer and forgot about it.”
               “What happened to it?” San asks.
               “It died,” He replies seriously, “I felt pretty guilty.”
               “I’m sorry to hear that,” San says just as grimly.
               You glance between the two men and their bonding moment over a dead Tamagotchi before clasping your hands together. “Okay, well, this has been truly touching but I don’t wanna miss my bus. See you tomorrow, San.”
               As you turn to leave, you hear Seonghwa mumble a quick goodbye before catching up with you. “You take the bus to work?”
               “Yeah, no car.”
               “I can drop you off at your place if you’d like.”
               You glance at him in surprise. “You don’t even know if I’m completely out of your way or not. We could live on opposite sides of one another. On top of that, how familiar are you with the town? You got a map in your car or something to help you get home afterwards?”
               Seonghwa looks perplexed. “I guess I didn’t think of that.”
               The doors glide open as you step out into the late afternoon air. The temperature has dropped since this morning, a chilly bite that cuts through your t-shirt. Seonghwa had the right idea with the long sleeve, you think. Feeling flustered by his invitation to drive you home, you stop walking and turn to face him.
               “Sorry, I didn’t mean to come across so harsh. I just wouldn’t want you going out of your way on my account.”
               “I get that,” He replies, a wind kicking up and blowing some of his hair into his eyes which he impatiently brushes back, “But I really don’t mind. I need to learn where everything is anyway.”
               Chewing on your bottom lip, you fight the urge just to agree. Logically, you should just take the bus home. If you’re trying to steadfastly ignore the fact that Seonghwa is attractive then obviously being in his car will not help things. But on the other hand, being alone with him also sounds too good.
               “Alright, fine. But if you get lost, I warned you.”
               He smiles and you can feel it in your chest. Following him to his car, which looks as though it has seen better days, you get into the passenger seat and toss your bag on the floor, looking around. A pair of small dice swing off the rearview mirror, the only decoration in the car. There is nothing else to learn about Seonghwa in here – the car is neat, clean and smells nice.
               He stretches out his long legs in his seat, starting the car. You are trying very hard not to stare at him, not notice how smooth his skin is nor how his muscles pull against his long sleeve shirt.
               You open your mouth to tell him your address when suddenly Wannabe by the Spice Girls begins to blare out of his car speakers. Startled into silence, you can only watch as Seonghwa looks mortified, quickly slamming his hand down onto the eject button which spits the CD out of the player in his car dashboard.
               He grabs the CD swiftly while going, “Uh, I didn’t know – I forgot – ‘’
               “Seonghwa, it’s fine,” You reassure him, “It would be stranger at this point if you didn’t own that CD.”
               He turns his body to grab something off the back seat, plopping the CD holder into his lap. Quickly, he opens it, flips to a random page with a spot available and hastily shoves the disc inside before closing the big binder of albums. Seonghwa seems to collect himself after a second or two, returning the binder to the backseat and quietly clearing his throat while turning on the radio. Sunday Morning by No Doubt quietly fills the car.
               “Alright,” He says, neatly skirting around the Spice Girls incident, his hands wrapping around the steering wheel, “Help me get to your place.”
               You give him a couple of directions and soon enough Seonghwa is on a main road. You make a mental note to eventually Map Quest some stuff for him later so he can learn the town layout faster.
               Wanting to fill the silence before your brain gets swept up in the mental image of sitting in his lap, you go, “Are you excited for Halloween? Hopefully we don’t get stuck working late.”
               “Do you usually do something for Halloween?”
               Of course he deflects immediately. You should have known better than to ask Seonghwa a question about himself. “Sometimes. Last year I went to a party but it was a total buzzkill. I don’t know what I’m doing this year.”
               “Do you like horror movies?”
               “They’re okay. Do you?”
               “Yeah, I like them.” Wow, finally an answer out of him! Progress.
               “Oh, wait, turn right at this light,” You say as Seonghwa shifts into the other lane.
               At the red light, he looks out the side window and says, “So far, this is near my own place. Maybe we don’t live too far away from each other.”
               “Maybe.” Did you dare ask another question? “Do you live alone?”
               Seonghwa hesitates for a moment and then replies, “Yeah, I do. What about you?”
               You spare an extra second to study his face. Every interaction with Seonghwa, while friendly enough, gives you the feeling that he is constantly holding back in some respect. Aspects of himself are carefully hidden, making you wonder what he is like behind the perfectly pleasant façade he shows at work.
               “Yeah. Do you like living alone?”
               “It’s a little different than what I am used to,” Seonghwa says carefully, glancing at you for a moment.
               You point to a road ahead. “You can turn down here.” After he does so, you ask, “What are you used to?”
               Seonghwa’s hands tighten around the wheel. You get the sense he is struggling to answer, torn between talking about himself and staying private.
               “Listen, Seonghwa,” You begin, “I get the sense you really don’t like talking about yourself. That’s fine. I don’t want to come off all ‘hey, tell me your life story’ and shit. I know we just met.”
               There is another red light and the car stops. Seonghwa tilts his face to look at you. You’re struck again by how handsome you find him and how his intense gaze startles you into silence.
               “It has nothing to do with you. I don’t mean to seem so closed off.” He turns his attention back to the road, drumming his fingers against the steering wheel before saying, “I moved here because my girlfriend and I broke up recently. I’m not used to living alone because I lived with her.”
               “Oh,” You mumble as the light turns green, feeling awkward, “I didn’t mean to – I mean…”
               “It’s okay,” He reassures you, his attention back on the road, “I’m a private person but I don’t want to come off rude.”
               Quietly, you point out the next turn. It doesn’t take long to stop at the small apartment complex you’ve lived in the past year. Grabbing your bag, anxious to get out of the car after fumbling straight into making Seonghwa feel as if he needed to explain himself, you stop just in time to remember he might not know how to get to his own place.
               “I can figure it out,” He claims while you rummage in your bag for a stray sheet of paper and pen.
               “No, no, you were nice enough to drop me off. What’s your address?” After he says it, you scribble down rough directions that he can follow and thrust the paper in his direction. “Here, this should help.”
               When he takes the paper from you, his fingers brush against yours. Your breath catches at the small touch.
               “Listen, I meant what I said,” Seonghwa says, “You don’t need to feel bad.”
               “Yeah but I didn’t want you to talk about anything negative like a breakup. That is way uncool of me. It isn’t any of my business why you moved here or who you live with.”
               “True but I also don’t wanna come off like a jerk.”
               “You weren’t, I just…” You’re struggling to find a safe sentence to land on. How did you not say that you wanted to learn more about him because you were immediately attracted and therefore curious? “Wanted to be friendly. Since we work together.”
               “We’re chilling, don’t worry about it. Let me walk you to your door, at least.”
               “You don’t need to do that,” You protest even though your heart skips a beat.
               “I don’t mind.”
               You know that you’re probably supposed to refuse again until Seonghwa relents and even though you still have anxiety from the misstep of having him open up about his past, your desire to be around him for longer wins out. You nod in acceptance, getting out of the car and rubbing your arms in the cold air, reminding yourself to bring a hoodie tomorrow.
               Seonghwa circles around the car, waiting for you to shuffle over. The apartment complex isn’t anything special, just two floors and a run down looking pool in the middle that is currently closed for fall and winter. You lead him up to the second floor, stopping in front of your apartment. Seonghwa is peering over the railing to look at the pool. Some of his black hair falls in front of his eyes. His hands are shoved in the pockets of his pants to keep them warm. Your eyes drop to his slender waist and you swallow hard. Everything about this man seems to have been specially created to drive you up the wall.
               “You ever use the pool?”
               “Not really. Why, do you like swimming?”
               “I do. My apartment complex doesn’t have a pool though.”
               Without thinking, you offer, “Well, when the pool reopens, you can come here.”
               He looks over at you, something flickering across his eyes quickly. Straightening up, he nods, giving you a small smile. “Alright, that sounds sweet.”
               Shifting the weight of your bag onto your other shoulder, you go, “Well…thanks again for the ride. Try not to get lost on the way home. Do you work tomorrow?”
               “I do.”
               “I’ll see you tomorrow then.”
               Seonghwa lingers for a moment. Once again, you get the feeling he is restraining from doing or saying something that might expose too much of himself. It is a curious thing, you think, especially given that you just assumed the whole ex-girlfriend thing is why he was being so reserved. Maybe that’s just him as a person though. Just really private and constantly filtering his behavior through a thousand nets.
               “Alright, talk to you later.”
               “See you later, alligator,” You reply and immediately chastised yourself for ending on such a corny line.
               Seonghwa turns around, walking back towards the staircase. You trace the curve of his shoulders underneath his shirt, getting a brief mental image of your hands flat against the top of them while you’re under his body. Shaking your head to fend off the fantasy, you turn away.
               He’s probably incredibly boring in bed. He’s an attractive guy but he’s so mild mannered and pleasant in an easily digestible way. Why get distracted into some annoying crush when the end result won’t be worth it?
Thursday, October 9th, 1997
               “Wassup?” San plops down in the chair next to yours while gesturing at the TV. “You watch this?”
               Once again, it is mid-afternoon in the break room. You’re eating lunch, staring at the grainy image on the TV that is showing a Buffy the Vampire Slayer ad for the new episode on Monday night.
               “No, do you?”
               “Nah but Yeosang records it every week to watch.”
               Yeosang is San’s roommate. That information doesn’t really surprise you seeing as he also watches The X-Files religiously.
               “Well, I bet he will enjoy this episode,” You squint, looking at the ad closer, “About a gigantic reptile thing in a frat house.”
               It is at that moment that Seonghwa steps into the break room. He is wearing a short sleeve black shirt today along with the ugly blue vest and a pair of black jeans. San waves when he enters.
               “Hey, dude. Are you on break?”
               “Yeah, I am.”
               San kicks out the chair on the other side of you, motioning to it. “Wanna chill with us?” When Seonghwa isn’t looking, he winks at you. You fight the urge to punch his shoulder.
               Seonghwa nods, stopping to get something out of the fridge before settling in next to you. He catches your eye and gives you a small smile. Your cheeks feel warm so you turn your attention back to your sandwich but you can still feel his gaze.
               “Damn, I wanna see this,” San interrupts whatever the hell was passing in between Seonghwa and yourself.
               “I think the title is kinda goofy though,” Seonghwa remarks.
               “You don’t like I Know What You Did Last Summer? I think it sounds a little mysterious. You know, it’s by the same writer as Scream,” San nudges you, “What do you think?”
               “I think I haven’t seen Scream so that sentence means nothing to me.”
               “Whoa, what, you haven’t seen Scream?” Seonghwa’s attention is back on you, “The sequel comes out soon. You should watch it. It’s really good.”
               Slightly desperate for something new to discuss with Seonghwa that didn’t involve asking questions leading to awkward moments, you leap at this opportunity. “Alright. I guess I can see if Blockbuster has it.”
               San scoffs. “Are you serious? I’ve been asking you to watch Scream for months – ow!” He winces as your foot collides with his shin under the table.
               Seonghwa frowns. “Are you alright?”
               “Yes,” San wheezes, “I always forget about the metal bar under the table. Just whacked my leg against it.”
               “He’s fine,” You say quickly, shooting daggers at him.
               Seonghwa tilts his body in your direction and goes, “I own Scream. I can bring the VHS tape tomorrow if you’re also working.”
               “I don’t have a day off until Sunday so I’ll be here. But are you sure? I don’t want you to lend me anything…”
               “Yeah, it’s okay. Don’t go to Blockbuster. I always do and then forget and end up owing them an annoying amount of late fees.”
               San has quickly forgotten the shin kicking incident and nods in agreement. “He’s right. Avoid it if you can.”
               “I’ll bring it tomorrow.”
               “Okay, well, thanks.”
               “Hey, when you’re done watching it, can I borrow it? Yeosang still hasn’t seen it either,” San goes, “He’s so bad at watching movies.”
               “Yeah, that’s no problem,” Seonghwa replies, “I’m still unpacking but I know where it is.”
               “Great, thanks dude,” San exclaims before turning his attention back to the TV.
               San says something else but you don’t really hear him because Seonghwa is still looking at you. Even though Seonghwa is friendly yet distant, your body seems to react to him in a way that takes you by surprise every time you’re close. It’s the warmth of his body so near combined with his toned arms and perfect skin. The effect is slightly dizzying. Toss in the fact you haven’t had a crush on someone since your last relationship ended three years ago, you are struggling between thinking his personality doesn’t match up with yours and wanting to throw yourself at him. The entire thing is confusing.
               Seonghwa’s lips are slightly parted as if he was going to say more but falls silent while staring at you. There is something brewing in his eyes, something you haven’t seen before. It’s intense and your stomach swoops as if leaping off a cliff. His hand presses down hard against his knee to steady himself. He suddenly looks away towards the window, cutting the moment short.
               You’re breathless, wondering what the hell that had been about. The way Seonghwa looked at you mingling with the feeling that he was reigning himself in, closing something off – you don’t know what to make of it. Could it be he also is attracted to you and is trying to hide it? In all your interactions with him, he’s been kind and considerate but nothing indicated he saw you in a physical way.
               You force yourself into focusing on whatever San is saying, trying to push all the swirling emotions out of your mind.
Friday, October 10th, 1997
               You sigh, plopping down on your bed, stretching out. Work today was a chore but Seonghwa had given you his copy of Scream. With San bothering you to watch it quickly so he could let Yeosang borrow it, you figured you’d just watch it tonight before going to sleep.
               Leaning over the side of your bed, you rummage through your bag until your fingers feel the edge of the VHS tape. Pulling it out, you gaze at the cover for a few seconds, lost in thought. You’re thinking about how Seonghwa looked today right before his shift ended. You were on your break and he was at the lockers, tugging a hoodie over his head. His white shirt lifted up so slightly that if you hadn’t been already staring at him, you wouldn’t have noticed the quick glimpse of a few inches of hard abdomen. That was enough to send your body into overdrive, something you still hadn’t calmed down from when he came over to hand you the Scream VHS.
               “Thanks,” You mumbled quickly, hoping that he didn’t have the ability to read your mind.
               “Not a problem. You can just give it to San as soon as you’re done with it. I’m not in any hurry to get it back.”
               He gave you that same easy going smile, the type of smile that made you wonder what he would be like if his kind demeanor cracked and he had you pushed against a wall with his lips against your neck.
               “Right, yeah, cool.” You said in what you hoped was a casual tone.
               When he turned around to leave, your eyes lingered on his waist before turning your attention back to your food, the VHS tape in your lap like a heavy weight.
               Dragging yourself back to the present moment, you pull the tape out of the sleeve, finding it a bit curious there isn’t a sticker with the movie name on it. You wiggle to the edge of your bed, shoving the tape into the player. There are a few seconds of VHS tracking and then the picture pops into view.
               You’re staring at a palm tree against a blue sky, slightly out of focus. The tape goes grainy for a moment and then the camera swoops downward. Someone’s face comes into view, filling up the lens before their hand pushes the camera away while they are laughing.
               Uh, okay, this is not what I thought the movie was gonna look like, you think while squinting at the TV.
               “Can you get the camera out of my face?” comes a familiar voice.
               “Stop, you love when the camera is on,” A woman replies coyly.
               The shot snaps into focus then, showing Seonghwa against a wall. He is wearing a sleeveless white and blue striped shirt, his black hair ruffling in the wind. The sight of him is like a punch to your chest, knocking the air out of your lungs. His smile is bright, completely different from the ones you’ve seen at work. It is unguarded. Even his posture is relaxed with none of the slightly stiff professional nature he has at work.
               Entranced, you can only stare as the scene continues. Seonghwa runs his long fingers through his hair, his smile turning into a grin.
               “So do you,” He counters.
               You can hear the sound of ocean waves just off screen. He turns his face to the side, the camera lingering on this for a moment before it lowers for a second, showing a wooden pathway. It cuts suddenly, immediately shifting into another scene.
               Seonghwa is standing on the beach now, slipping his shirt off and tossing it onto the blanket that is on the sand. You didn’t think it was possible to see him look so comfortable in his own skin. He doesn’t seem to be shy at all, staring at the camera with a challenging look on his face. On top of that, the sight of Seonghwa shirtless is bowling you over. He is toned, tanned and has muscles you want to press your hands against.
               “What?” He goes.
               “Nothing,” The woman says, “I can’t film you getting into the water?”
               “You’re just filming me undressing.”
               “Well, it’s not the first time, is it?”
               He rolls his eyes but there is a good natured expression on his face. He shoves his thumbs into his swim trunks, tugging them down half an inch before exploding into laughter and turning around, jogging towards the water.
               Another cut. New scene. This has to be him and his ex. I need to turn this off. It’s obviously not meant for me.
Seonghwa is sitting at a table in a diner, looking over a menu. He raises his eyes, making eye contact with the camera then he laughs again. He looks relaxed, his smile bright and posture resting comfortably against the booth.
“You look wicked good tonight,” The woman remarks and Seonghwa playfully shakes the menu in her direction.
“Good thing you’re getting it on camera, right?”
“Exactly.” She zooms in a little more. “Do you want to tell the imaginary audience what we’ll be filming later?”
“Oh, well, I think the imaginary audience knows by now what we like to film,” He says with a mock seriousness that makes your heart constrict. “Isn’t that right?”
The woman giggles and the scene cuts suddenly. This time the camera is in a bedroom with the lens focusing on Seonghwa once again. He is shirtless, close to the camera.
               “You gonna keep it on while I fuck you?” He says in a low voice.
               The woman doesn’t reply, just giggles.
               Seonghwa’s eyes drop for a moment before locking back onto the camera. You’ve never seen such an expression on his face – a combination of lust and reveling in the fact the entire thing is being filmed. It is as if the exterior you’ve seen on him since he began to work at the store is all bullshit, a lie in which he hides behind, and you’re seeing him for real now through the lens.
               “Maybe I’ll film you when my cock is down your throat,” He continues, “You want that?”
               The woman titters again before going, “Yeah, I want that.”
               Seonghwa grins, moving back a little so that his entire body is in view. The low light makes it difficult to fully make him out but you can see the curve of his shoulders, the stiffness against the fabric of his boxers, and the way he motions for her to come closer.
               “Then give me the camera and get on your knees,” He says sternly while lowering one hand towards his boxers, starting to pull them down –
               The sight of Seonghwa about to expose himself finally snaps you out of your shock. Quickly, you lean over and smash the eject button on the tape, yanking it out of the machine and dropping it to the floor as if it is going to burn you.
               You stare at it, breathless, your mind spinning. It didn’t take a genius to figure out where that tape was going to lead. After all, people still talked about the tape of Pamela Anderson and Tommy Lee; it had been covered in media for months and was still often a topic of conversation.
               You are aware Seonghwa just moved and the tape must be misplaced. Do you tell him? Do you just pretend you watched Scream and not mention it? But San wanted to borrow the copy as well. Obviously, he couldn’t get his hands on it. You could lie and say the tape didn’t play. But the excuse wouldn’t work because Seonghwa would try it on his own player and realize what was really on it. You could pretend you lost the tape and destroy it. But that also didn’t seem right. It wasn’t your tape, after all, and eventually Seonghwa could put the pieces together and believe you kept the tape to watch or worse. It felt as if the only choice would be to come clean to Seonghwa and let him know he accidentally gave you the wrong tape.  
               On the other side of things, you couldn’t believe how different Seonghwa was on camera. There was such a relaxed, casual demeanor to him. He seemed more at ease in front of the lens than in reality. For the first time since meeting him, it felt that you truly saw him. The quiet confidence, no hint of shyness in the way he spoke or removed his clothes. On top of that, his body was absolutely banging in a way that made your thighs clench and hands bunch up in your blanket.
               Then give me the camera and get on your knees.
               You think about that moment in the break room when Seonghwa’s eyes were heavy on yours and his hand gripped his knee. The little bit of his true personality coming through before being shoved back down, perhaps? Just an hour ago, you thought everything about Seonghwa had been figured out. Not anymore.
               Your mind flashes back to his smile and the expression on his face while the camera filmed. Unguarded. Exposed. Hiding behind nothing and leaving everything, including sex, on a VHS tape.
               What would such a thing be like? A small voice in your head wonders.
Saturday, October 11th, 1997
               “Hey, good morning.”
               You jump out of your skin, slamming your locker door shut and turning to see Seonghwa standing there.
               “Hi, Seonghwa! How’s it hanging?!” You exclaim loudly with such false cheer that you inwardly wince.
               Seonghwa outwardly winces. “You’re at an excitement level I can’t quite reach given we are at work.”
               Then give me the camera and get on your knees.
               You make a garbled noise in response, eyes darting all over the place. You can’t stare at Seonghwa’s face because then you think of his unguarded smile. You can’t stare at his chest because then the mental image of his abs pops into view. You can’t even look at his small waist, something that had been giving you great pleasure to sneak glances at during the week, because you’re picturing the way he was tugging down his boxers.
               “Are you…uh…feeling alright?”
               “Yeah, just didn’t sleep well,” You say quickly, “Tired.”
               His eyes move to your locker and he gestures to it. “Oh, did you watch Scream?”
               Your head turns sharply. The VHS tape is poking out of the top of your bag. You stammer out a collection of gibberish, stalling for time. You didn’t want to have this conversation right now; you had been picturing it after work, maybe in his car or something. Not in the break room before it hits ten in the morning.
               Seonghwa looks perplexed once again. You don’t blame him.
               Finally, you settle on, “I would really like to discuss the tape with you.”
               His features brighten. “Yeah, sure.”
               “After work?”
               Confusion once again but he slowly replies, “Alright.”
               You scurry past him, shouting your goodbye while exiting the room and hurrying to the women’s department. Seonghwa’s smile from the tape is still blazing across your brain in vivid colour and no matter how much you try not to think about it, you can still see the lascivious look in his eyes as he began to remove his boxers.
               You’ll tell him after work, you think desperately, even though it will be mortifying and he most likely will never speak to you again.
               As long as you get through this shift without losing your cool, everything should be fine. Just don’t think about him on the tape. Don’t think about him having sex and recording it. Don’t think about how relaxed he looked. Don’t think about how sexy his body looked.
               Should be simple.
*
               You manage to avoid Seonghwa the entire day, including an awkward moment where you wedged yourself into a clothing rack as he walked by. You were worried about blurting out what was on the tape in the middle of his work shift or even worse – admitting that you were curious about how he filmed himself doing such things and how it felt to let go with a camera on. In quiet moments when a customer wasn’t bothering you, your mind travels back to him like an overplayed record.
               You have a difficult time wrapping your head around the Seonghwa on the tape and the Seonghwa in reality. Always polite, yet distant, always kind but professional, in the few days you’ve known him, you’ve bounced between wanting him physically and believing his personality would keep a deeper connection from potentially forming.
               But on the tape, you viewed Seonghwa as to how he truly is. There is no façade when the camera is on him. You see him unfiltered. The hint of mischief in his smile, that sense of freedom when he was jogging towards the waves, his quiet confidence when he was talking dirty – why were such things hidden in his day to day life?
               By the time the end of your shift comes, you are anxious to get the tape and tell Seonghwa you need to talk. Since you were finishing shifts at the same time, you figured you’d wait for him in the break room. It is a little past seven by the time you enter. The break room has a couple of employees milling around but not San, who snuck out an hour earlier in order to hit up the club with Wooyoung.
               Standing in front of your locker, you reach for the lock but as your fingers graze the cold metal, you realize with a jolt it is unlocked. With a small sigh, you realize San must have opened it earlier. You had a bottle of ibuprofen in your locker that he would use occasionally and eventually gave him your locker combination so he would stop bothering you.
               But as you reach for your bag, your eyes narrow. Heart thudding, you rummage around in it with growing panic. The VHS tape isn’t in the bag. The tape isn’t in the bag.
               “What the fuck?” You hiss in between your teeth, your heart plummeting.
               You are about to upend the bag onto the floor when Seonghwa’s voice cuts through. “Hey, finishing up too?”
               Surprised, you jump, flattening your back against the locker, clutching the bag against your chest. “Seonghwa! Hey! Hi!”
               “Lots of enthusiasm for work today,” He notes, removing his work vest. His slender fingers twist the dial on his locker. You stare at them, momentarily transfixed. He glances at you. “What?”
               “Nothing. No, that’s a lie. Seonghwa, I seem to have misplaced the tape.”
               “Oh, Scream? Nah, San came to me earlier and said he noticed it was in your locker. I told him you watched it and he grabbed it before he left to give to his roommate. He said he was cutting out early to head to the club or something. Yeosang…that’s his roommate, right? San mentioned that Yeosang was gonna watch it with him and everyone else later tonight.”
               Every word out of his mouth, every word tumbling out of his beautifully plush lips, makes you want to sink into the planet’s core. The panic that had been wiggling in your brain while looking for the tape is now washing over your body like a cold wave.
               You picture Yeosang, whom you have only met briefly before, hitting play on the video. A room filled with his friends plus San and Wooyoung. The video starting, them seeing Seonghwa. How long would they let the tape run? Probably to where you ejected it. Enough for them to know what is on that tape, enough for them to know what Seonghwa does for fun.
               You drop your bag to the floor in shock, reaching out for Seonghwa. Your hand grips the front of his sweater. His eyes widen in surprise.
               “Seonghwa,” You say in a choked voice.
               He looks a bit flustered, eyes darting over your shoulder to see if anyone else is seeing this. “H-hey, I…” He swallows hard. “I…”
               “Seonghwa, that movie isn’t on the tape.”
               His nerves, possibly because he thought you were literally throwing yourself at him during work, are now washed away in confusion. “What do you mean?”
               “Scream is not on that tape. It’s…something else,” You steel yourself, plunging forward, “It’s a home video. Of you and your ex.”
               The colour immediately drains from Seonghwa’s face. Your grip loosens on his shirt, watching as he goes through a myriad of facial expressions before settling on something that looks blandly neutral. You’re amazed at how quickly he collects himself.
               “I didn’t watch it,” You say hurriedly, talking a mile a minute, “Well, I watched like 3 or 4 minutes but then it was starting to get a little….anyway, I shut it off then. I was going to tell you. I brought it back today so I could tell you after work. I just didn’t think San was going…okay, it’s fine. It’s fine. We’ll page him. He’ll know to call here, right? I’ll just page him.”
               Seonghwa takes a slow deep breath. You can’t tell if he wants to scream, cry, or punch something. His calm demeanor does nothing to relax your own nerves. You don’t know what he is thinking. You go back to digging through your bag, pulling out the tiny phone number and address book you keep in there. Quickly, you head to the break room phone, yanking it off the receiver while flipping through the book to find San’s beeper number. You page him, hurriedly inputting the phone number of the store before hanging up.
               “Okay, we’ll just wait here for a few minutes. He’ll call back.”
               You aren’t sure if Seonghwa heard you. Looking over your shoulder, you see him standing in the same exact spot, his back to you.
               “Uh…Seonghwa?” You say tentatively. “Are you freaking out?”
               He turns around then, his features still amazingly collected in an extremely calm appearance. “Do you know where San lives?”
               “Where he lives? Yeah, I do. Oh, you want to go there?” You glance at the clock. “Yeah, I mean, it might be too early for him to be at the club. But shouldn’t we wait in case he calls?”
               “No,” He says curtly, “You’ll come with me and show me where his place is.”
               “Oh – oh, okay. Yeah, sure. Let’s go.”
               You can hardly keep up with Seonghwa’s long strides, scampering behind him as you exit the store and into the chilly weather. Tightening the hoodie you’ve managed to shove yourself into while following him, you get in his car silently. Even though Seonghwa is amazingly calm, you can tell he is on edge. The veneer he portrays to the world is on thin ice and you can almost feel the roiling tension under his skin. He starts the car and the radio plays softly.
               Pulling out of the parking spot, Seonghwa gets to the exit and grunts, “Tell me how to get to his place.”
               “Okay,” You say, adding on, “You’ll take a left at the light,” You hesitate before going, “Seonghwa, I’m sorry. I didn’t mean for this to happen.’’
               His hands tighten on the wheel, the only indication of his stress. “It isn’t your fault. I should have checked the tape before I gave it to you. Due to my move and breakup, things are all over the place. I don’t even know how it ended up in the Scream case.”
               “Even so, I should have turned it off immediately. I just…” What do you even say? I was entranced by how different you were on camera. I’m deeply attracted to you and I want to get to know the version of you that was on the tape. I’m curious about what you do for fun. Maybe a little too intrigued for my own good.
               “It’s fine,” Seonghwa interrupts you swiftly, “I really don’t want to discuss the tape while this is on.” He gestures to the radio which is currently playing Supermodel (You Better Work). “Just a little too ridiculous for me right now.”
               You fall silent, the words tumbling around in your chest. “A right up here,” You mumble after a couple of minutes.
               You know it is a morally grey area to keep thinking about Seonghwa in the bedroom, talking openly about getting his dick sucked and filming it. You know it’s wrong to wonder what the rest of the tape looked like. Your curiosity feels like a mark against your moral code.
               Fifteen minutes later, you have pulled up to the apartment complex that San resides in. Getting out of the car, you study the building, trying to remember what number his apartment is.
               “The door,” Seonghwa points, “You don’t happen to have a key to get into the foyer, do you?”
               “No. I guess we can buzz and see if anyone answers. But I…I can’t remember his apartment number.”
               He looks at you swiftly. “Please try to remember.” You can tell it is taking him great effort to keep his voice even and not start shaking you.
               But you’ve only been here a couple of times so nothing appears in your head. Seonghwa takes off towards the door, giving you no choice but to follow. He stands in front of the door, looking around to see the chances of someone coming by so he could slink in after them.
               “You remember it yet?”
               “No, sorry.”
               He turns to the set of apartment numbers written out across the buzzers and randomly hits one. No answer. He presses another one.
               “Is this your plan?” You ask.
               “Yes,” He replies calmly.
               “What are you going to do if someone answers?”
               “Lie.”
               You aren’t sure what to say. This is yet another new side of Seonghwa, one driven by the desperation of someone seeing the tape and finding out what he’s really like.
               On the fourth buzz, someone gruffly goes, “Who is it?” The speaker crackles.
               “Hi, I live a few places down from you and forgot my key,” Seonghwa says smoothly, “I’m so sorry to bother you. I just wanted to get buzzed in real quick.”
               “Yeah, whatever.” The door clicks open and the speaker goes silent.
               Seonghwa grabs the door handle, shooting you a look as he holds it open. You slip past him into the entrance of the building. Once you stand in the foyer, staring at the row of small mailboxes, the apartment number bounces back into your brain.
               “It’s #1117!” You declare, happy at your brain’s ability to recall such a fact.
               “Great, let’s go,” Seonghwa says while walking towards the elevator, pressing the button.
               The foyer is silent as the two of you wait for the elevator to come down. You bounce on the balls of your feet a little, your nerves getting the best of you. You’re worried about Seonghwa, you’re worried about someone seeing that tape and his secret getting out and you’re still dealing with the fact your mind won’t drop mental images that it shouldn’t be thinking about.
               In the elevator, Seonghwa exhales slowly. It is the only sign of tension brewing in him. You marvel at how calm and collected he is. If you were in this situation, there would be no chance of being in control. You’re barely in control of your emotions now, dealing with something that technically would have no impact on your life.
               The doors glide open and Seonghwa marches down the quiet hallway. His steps are muffled against the carpet, coming to a stop in front of San and Yeosang’s apartment. He rings the doorbell but there is no reply. He tries again. Nothing.
               “Maybe they really have gone to the club already,” You suggest.
               In response, Seonghwa bangs his fist against the door before resting his hand against the wood, closing his eyes. You can feel the energy crackling off him, just like that moment in the break room the other day - that same sensation of him wrangling himself under control, shoving his real self into a small box and tying it up with a bow.
               “Do you know what club they go to?”
               “Yeah. It’s nearby.”
               “Let’s go.” He turns around to return to the elevator.
               “Wait,” You hurry after Seonghwa, “We’re just going to go to the club and what?”
               “Ask where the tape is. If it’s in the apartment, I’m going to ask for San to get it for me. If he still has it on him, I’ll just ask for it back.”
               “How are you going to explain why you need it so badly without…you know.”
               The elevator arrives and he steps inside. “I don’t know. I’ll figure it out when we get there.”
               You stand next to him, feeling the warmth off his body. He’s wearing a form fitting white sweater today due to the temperature and you cannot help but notice how it lays across his chest. His black jeans are also snug against his slender waist. It is difficult to look at him and not picture the images of him on the beach and in the bedroom. Cheeks getting warm, you stare steadfastly ahead at the elevator doors, which finally open to release you from the ever growing tension.
               Back outside, Seonghwa is hurriedly walking back to the car. The sun has fully dipped below the horizon now, the last strands of dying daylight long gone. You cross your arms, the cold seeping into the fabric of your hoodie.
               “Seonghwa,” You say tentatively as he reaches the car, “Do you wanna talk about it now? Since Rupaul isn’t playing, I mean.”
               “I really don’t.”
               “I don’t want to make things awkward between us.”
               His hand, hovering over the handle of the car door, drops back to his side. His eyes are on you, focused in a way they haven’t been since the news of the tape landing in San’s hands were uttered to him. You suddenly feel exposed.
               Seonghwa crosses the small gap in a couple of seconds, looking at you intensely. “What do you want to talk about exactly? You want to discuss something, surely, and I don’t think that it is about your apology.”
               “I don’t know what you mean,” You mumble quickly, balking at the way his eyes tear through your defenses.
               “You want to know more about the tape? You want to know what I do in my spare time?”
               “N-no!” You lie, “No, I just didn’t want this to mess up anything between us.”
               Seonghwa shakes his head, pulling away from you and exhaling slowly before he loses his cool. “There isn’t time to sit and chat about everything. Can you please just get in the car and tell me where this club San goes to is?”
               You nod silently and Seonghwa turns around, getting into the car. Rooted to the spot for a moment, your heart thrumming in your chest, you try to ignore that little voice in your head – a voice entirely new, one that you don’t know what to do with.
               What if you stopped getting yourself back in control, Seonghwa? What would that look like? I want to see what it looks like. I want to see what the real you is and I want to keep pressing against that exterior until it cracks.
               You’ve never dealt with such a desire before. It is as if a giant dog is tugging you along on a leash and you can’t pull it back. You can dig your heels against the pavement, yank on the leash and beg for the dog to stop but it doesn’t work. The little voice in your head, the centre of your curiosity about Seonghwa mixed with your attraction to him, is a dangerous thing.
               Perhaps it isn’t just Seonghwa who is always struggling to remain cool, calm and collected in every situation. Maybe you’re not so different from him.
*
               Twenty minutes later, Seonghwa is parking at the club San frequents. The place is crowded with a line snaking around the outside of the building. Seonghwa stares at the line quietly after turning off the car. You know what he is thinking – time is important and he isn’t going to waste it waiting in a long line with the risk of the bouncer saying no. His fingers are curled lightly around the steering wheel, his brows furrowed together in concentration.
               “What’s the plan? You gonna gank someone’s VIP pass?” You joke lightly.
               He shifts, pulling his wallet out of his pocket and opening it. His fingers glide across the bills inside as he counts them quickly before looking in your direction. “How much cash do you have on you?”
               “What?”
               “I’ll pay you back,” Seonghwa says impatiently, “We’re just going to bribe the bouncer and skip the line.”
               “Is – is that allowed?”
               “No.”
               “Oh. Uhm,” You fish your wallet out of your bag. “I have a hundred bucks.”
               “Great, and I have two hundred,” He holds out his hand, wiggling his fingers at you.
               “Wait, we’re going to give the bouncer three hundred dollars?” You ask incredulously.
               “No, we’re going to start with a hundred and go from there,” Seonghwa explains, “They might be content with that. Your money is last resort.” When you hesitate, he sighs. “I told you, I’m good for it. I’ll pay you back immediately. I’ll pay you back tonight. As soon as I get the tape. Don’t start wiggin out on me now.”
               “I am not wiggin out,” You say defensively, “I just have never bribed someone before.”
               “Technically, I’m bribing. You’re merely watching.”
               As soon as the words leave his mouth, an awkward silence settles across the car. Seonghwa neatly averts his gaze, pretending to be fascinated with the money in his wallet. You swallow hard, unable to stop yourself from thinking about the tape.
               You thrust the money at him which he takes with a mumbled thanks before getting out of the car. You look down at your hoodie and work pants, unable to recall if this place has a dress code or not. Probably, given the long line. You sigh, opening the car door and trailing after Seonghwa.
               He stops at one point, looking over his shoulder at you. “Are you comfortable pretending we’re on a date?”
               “Excuse me?”
               “I’m going to bribe the bouncer under the guise that I’m trying to impress you. Can I put my arm around you when we get up there? I won’t do anything else.”
               “How do you come up with this shit?” You say without thinking, “The entire night, you just seamlessly come up with these ideas and lies and stories.” Every interaction we’ve had before tonight has been pleasant and normal to the point where I thought you were attractive but a little boring, is what you don’t add on to the sentence, and now I’m seeing all sorts of sides to you I never thought lurked inside.
               Seonghwa ignores the question, instead asking one of his own. “Are you comfortable with me putting my arm around your waist?”
               “Yeah, fine,” You mumble although the idea of him touching your body is making your skin warm.
               “Alright. Try not to look so nervous.”
               Seonghwa walks towards the club with a confidence you cannot hope to possibly mimic. Gone is the easy going attitude he carries at work. Instead, he acts as though he owns the place and is merely popping by to give it a look. His arm circles around your waist as the bouncer comes into view. You can hear people complaining about him cutting the line but Seonghwa doesn’t pay them any attention.
               His arm around your waist is distracting in an agonizing way. Every nerve in your body has awakened to him and the desire is dizzying. As you approach the bouncer, Seonghwa nods his head in the man’s direction, extending his hand outward and slipping the hundred dollars in his palm.
               “How’s it hangin?” Seonghwa asks casually, pulling you closer against him.
               The bouncer glances quickly down at the money and replies evenly, “Could be better.”
               Another hundred dollars is given and the bouncer pretends to study his clipboard and nods, moving to the side. “You’re on the list. Have a good night.”
               Seonghwa nods, guiding you past him and into the club. On the way in, he brings his lips close to your ear and murmurs, “See? Didn’t even need your cash.”
               You’re feeling slightly in awe of the Seonghwa on display tonight – gone is the fake work personality, just someone tackling the situation at hand in whatever way would work best even if it included lying. His arm is still around your waist, his body angled at a slight slant as he leads you through the crowd of people and onto the main dance floor.
               The music is loud, cramming your skull immediately as a crush of people squeeze against Seonghwa and yourself. The flickering lights dance over Seonghwa’s hair as his grip tightens on your waist so the two of you don’t get separated. He pulls you along until he finds an alcove, releasing his hold and facing you.
               “Do you know where they’d be?” He shouts.
               “The dance floor! San always talks about dancing a lot when he’s here!” You yell back.
               Seonghwa scowls. “I fucking hate clubs!”
               Your hand reaches for his, pulling him out of the alcove and towards the main dance floor while This Is Your Night blasts so loudly that you can feel it vibrate along your bones. Wiggling through the vast swarm of people, you successfully make your way to the main dance floor. It is impossible to find San in the crush of people. Seonghwa tugs on your hand, getting your attention while pointing to a large staircase leading to the second floor.
               You nod and he takes the lead, quickly lost in a sea of gauzy club clothes in colours that could cause someone’s retinas to bleed, seeing more cleavage and mini dresses than you thought possible in one space. Your hoodie and work pants and lack of high heels have you receiving a few confused glances as Seonghwa works his way through the crowd.
               Of course, you also notice that Seonghwa is attracting a lot of attention in his own way. No one seems to care that his outfit isn’t club attire in the same way they cared about yours. While making your way up the stairs, you can hear giggles follow as people check Seonghwa out. This sparks an intense irritation in your chest for reasons you can’t fully explain.
               Standing on one of the stairs, you gaze out across the dance floor, squinting to try to spot San or Wooyoung. Someone bangs into your side, cursing at you standing there. Seonghwa turns around sharply, glowering at the woman with such an intensity that she scampers up the rest of the stairs, wobbling on her strappy sandals with huge heels. His hand is on your lower back protectively.
               “We are standing right on the stairs,” You shout at him.
               “I don’t care,” He says crossly, “They can move around us. The staircase is huge.”
               Seonghwa’s gaze is steady on yours and for a few seconds, time seems to stretch out. The music becomes background noise, his hand against your back, his body facing yours. He has one strand of hair that has come out of place, betraying his inner turmoil that he has been attempting to hide all night.
               You bring your hand upwards, pushing his hair back into place before you can stop yourself. He reaches for you, fingers gently wrapping around your wrist. Your breath catches, thrown off by his touch and the intensity of his stare. For a brief second, you think it is finally going to happen – the fissures that have formed in Seonghwa’s carefully constructed polite personality are going to shatter –
               But then, over his shoulder, you spot San weaving his way away from the bar, holding two drinks over his head, heading towards a small table where Wooyoung is.
               “I found them!” You exclaim and the moment passes as Seonghwa looks over his shoulder, eyes narrowing as he spots San.
               He swiftly turns around to head back down the stairs, holding onto your hand again. His impatience is exposed through the way he practically shoves his way through the crowd. The time the grumbles are not of admiration but of annoyance. Seonghwa doesn’t seem to care.
               San’s eyes widen when he spots you and one eyebrow raises at the sight of Seonghwa holding your hand. Suddenly embarrassed, you pull your hand away from him although Seonghwa doesn’t seem to notice. He’s on a mission and only one thing is on his mind.
               The print on San’s shirt defies logic and reasoning, distantly reminding you of a Taco Bell you stepped into a few weeks ago. Paired with even more colourful pants, you are unsure how it took this long to spot him in the crowd.
               “What are you two doing here?” San exclaims loudly.
               Without preamble, Seonghwa goes, “I need the Scream tape back.”
               “You came all this way for that?” He asks confused.
               Wooyoung slides out of the small booth he was occupying, plucking the drink out of San’s hand. Tonight, he’s wearing a nylon dark pink button up with three of the buttons undone, exposing his tanned chest. His pants are so tight that you aren’t sure how he even got into them.
 Wooyoung waves at you and goes, “Who is your friend?”
               “New coworker,” San exclaims over the music before turning his attention back to Seonghwa. “I don’t have it. I gave it to Yeosang when I got home and he took it with him when he left.”
               Seonghwa’s hands flex at his sides, a motion only you notice. “Where is he?”
               “I think he’s out with Mingi and Jongho tonight. They were gonna watch the movie at Mingi’s place. We were going to meet them there later.”
               “Where is he now?” Seonghwa grinds out between clenched teeth.
               San is picking up on the tension, glancing at you but your expression gives nothing away. “Is everything alright? Why do you need the tape back so badly?”
               “I’ll explain later. I just need it back tonight,” Seonghwa replies.
               Wooyoung, who has been silent this entire conversation, his eyes bouncing between the two men, throws his arm around San’s shoulders while pointing at Seonghwa, still holding his drink. “Who is this guy? I like him. He gets right to the point. He’s very money, you know what I mean?”
               You interrupt quickly. “It’s to do with me, San. Please don’t ask any questions.”     
               It’s a lie, of course, but you know San will respect your request. You can feel Seonghwa’s eyes flick to you for a second.
               “Yeah, it’s no problem. I don’t mean to be pushy. Yeosang is at the minigolf course. The one with the big wizard in the middle, you know it?”
               “I do, yeah. Thanks for the help.”
               “It’s all good,” San replies.
               “Are you sure you don’t wanna hang?” Wooyoung asks Seonghwa, “We’re just getting started here.”
               “I appreciate the offer but we gotta bounce. Nice meeting you.” Seonghwa is already turning away, eyes darting towards the exit.
               You give the two men a small wave and then it is back to being smushed in the crowd, wiggling through the writhing bodies as the music pulsates around you. You’re walking behind Seonghwa, his hand searching for yours so the two of you don’t get separated. Your fingers curl around his and you find yourself studying the curve of his neck, the way his shoulders look in his sweater. From this angle, you can just make out the muscles underneath the tight fabric.
               Seonghwa glances over his shoulder to make sure you’re alright. You can’t read his gaze; something shifts behind it, ever changing and unfolding. In that moment, it feels as if you’ve known him forever, in a thousand different locations across a thousand different universes.
               Back into the night air, Seonghwa turns to face you. “Do you know what minigolf course San was talking about?”
               “Yeah, I do.”
               “Great, come on.” He takes off across the parking lot towards the car. His back is illuminated by the neon from the sign of the club, dousing him in a bright blue that his hair soaks up.
               You follow, catching up with him as Seonghwa asks, “What are you gonna tell San when he asks why you needed the tape?”
               “I don’t know. I just said that because I knew he would drop it.”
               “Well, you bought us time,” He remarks, opening the door to the car, “Tell me how to get to the minigolf course.”
               Back in the passenger seat, you can still feel the tension rolling off Seonghwa. Unable to help yourself, you try to reassure him. “We’ll find Yeosang there. I’m sure he will have the tape on him. It’s nearby too.”
               Seonghwa brushes off your words. “Just tell me how to get there.”
*
               It takes fifteen minutes to get to the minigolf course. A large garish wizard hat juts out of the centre of the course, covered in purple lights to make it glow. There is an assortment of other tacky objects sticking upwards – palm trees, a poorly made replica of the leaning tower of Pisa, a UFO that used to rotate five years ago but has since broken down and not been repaired.
               Seonghwa gazes at the sight through the windshield, clearly assessing the situation before getting out of the car. You take off after him, fighting the urge to grab his hand. It made sense in the club, not here.
               As you approach the entrance, the sound of top 40 radio plays loudly over speakers. Seonghwa bypasses the ticket booth completely, instead opting to head directly onto the course. But a bored looking employee glances up from the magazine he’s reading and gets to his feet quickly.
               “Whoa, hey there, homeslice. I need to see the ticket.” He extends his hand out to Seonghwa.
               “I’m not playing,” He says quickly, “I just am getting something from a friend.”
               “Sure, I can just let anyone pass by without a ticket,” The man rolls his eyes, “No ticket, no entrance.”
               “It’ll take less than five minutes,” Seonghwa protests, the agitation at being so close and so far starting to get to him.
               You hover by his side and quietly go, “Seonghwa, let’s just go buy a ticket.”
               “I don’t want to buy a ticket. The ticket is for playing minigolf and I’m not playing,” He grinds out, staring at the attendant, “So, just let me in.”
               The attendant, who is stuck wearing an ugly polyester blue button up, looks positively thrilled at finally having something interesting happening. “No can do, dude,” He says gleefully.
               You grab Seonghwa’s upper arm, briefly distracted by the firm muscles underneath, before carting him away from the entrance. While gesturing to the ticket booth, you go, “Let’s just buy a ticket. Do you really wanna throw down with the guy working the minigolf course? We won’t get to Yeosang that way.”
               “I don’t care,” He says stubbornly, “He’s being an asshole.”
               Your irritation gets the best of you. “If you could wrangle your repressed anger under control for two seconds –”
               “My what?”
               “You know exactly what I’m talking about, Seonghwa. The entire night, you’ve been furious at me and just won’t say it. So, you just shove everything down and ignore it and pretend you’re so calm and collected but you’re not –”
               Seonghwa takes a step towards you. His demeanor is icy cold now. “Not everything is about you,” He replies in a tone that could frost over a window, “As much as you want it to be.”
               Your eyes narrow. “What the hell does that mean?”
               “If I’ve been repressing anger all night, you’ve been holding back too. The multiple attempts to steer the conversation back to how sorry you are, how you found the tape, how little you watched of it.” Another step closer, close enough to touch now. “Why don’t you stop bullshitting and just admit you wanna ask me questions about the tape and what I do in my spare time?”
               You hadn’t thought it was that obvious. Seonghwa striking the centre of your heart with his accusation makes your breath catch. You can’t bring yourself to reply.
               “The tape not only has me on it but also my ex. It violates her privacy for anyone else to see it, not just mine. That’s the most important thing going on right now, not you having some sort of sexual awakening at seeing a few minutes of it.”
               You make a strangled noise in the back of your throat, knowing Seonghwa is correct but also feeling exposed at the same time. He stalks off past you, going towards the ticket booth. The employee at the entrance is gawking at the two of you although he didn’t hear anything said.
               “You and your boyfriend are pretty intense,” He says over the din of top forty music.
               “He’s not my boyfriend,” You mumble, looking over your shoulder at Seonghwa.
               Seonghwa is smiling casually at the person working the ticket booth. All earlier signs of irritation are wiped clean from his beautiful face. He is chatting as though he doesn’t have a care in the world. Was I really that obvious? Or is he just that good at reading people? You are embarrassed but manage to make your facial expression look as placid as possible when Seonghwa returns to you.
               “Ready?” He asks as if the two of you hadn’t just been at each other’s throats a couple of minutes ago.
               After you nod, Seonghwa thrusts the tickets at the attendant who takes them in an over the top gesture and tacks on, “Have a good night!”
               Entering the minigolf course, you stop to grab one of the little putters. Seonghwa notices and drawls, “Really?”
               You hand it off to him. “Yes, really. You wanna blend in or look like the weird guy stalking across a golf course?”
               He takes it, holding it daintily with his long fingers while studying it. “You were right. About the ticket. I wasn’t thinking clearly.”
               You’re holding your own putter now, staring at him. “I know. I wouldn’t think clearly in your situation either.”
               Seonghwa looks at you for a long moment. You get the sense he wants to say more but he gives a small shake of his head, turning his attention back to the course. “Come on. We’ll just start at the first hole and wander around until you spot them.”
               The next ten minutes are spent navigating the busy course which includes a moment where Seonghwa ducks to avoid a little kid swinging the putter and another where you almost lose your footing and awkwardly trip off a tiny fake bridge. There are a few questioning glances shot in your direction as the two of you bypass playing completely while you try to spot Yeosang.
               Finally, near the gigantic wizard hat, you spot him along with who you assume is Mingi and Jongho. Yeosang, in baggy jeans and an oversized green hoodie, looks to be talking very animatedly with a tall man who is wildly gesturing. The other man is watching them with an amused expression on his face as if it is a very funny TV show.
               “There they are.” You nudge Seonghwa to get his attention. “Are you doing the talking or am I?”
               “You start and I’ll follow. Yeosang is familiar with you and doesn’t know me.”
               “Alright, let’s go.”
               You cut across a particularly ugly ice cream cone that is the centre of hole number ten and call out Yeosang’s name. He looks up in surprise but waves when he sees you.
               “Wassup? Didn’t know you like minigolfing,” He says as you and Seonghwa stop in front of the group. “Mingi and I were just having a disagreement about how many hits he took to get the ball in the hole.”
               The tall man, who is dressed entirely in acid wash denim, protests. “It was four strokes. You’re saying five and that’s not true.”
               The other guy, who must be Jongho, goes, “Can we please move on? I want to get an Icee.”
               “In this temperature?” Mingi asks, momentarily distracted.
               Jongho tugs on his long sleeve, wearing a plaid dress shirt with all the buttons undone, a black t-shirt underneath, topped off with a simple pair of jeans. “It isn’t that cold in this.”
               Seonghwa, who is already radiating an intense energy that will be overflowing at any second, swiftly interrupts, “Sorry, but I was talking to San and he said you had the Scream tape?”
     ��         Yeosang nods. “Yeah, it’s in my bag. Oh! You must be the coworker he is borrowing it from?”
               “That’s right. I just need to see it for a second please.”
               “Sure,” He turns around, scooping his bag off the ground which it had been unceremoniously dumped on and pulls out the tape, handing it to Seonghwa. “There you go.”
               “Thanks so much,” Seonghwa replies calmly.
               He immediately pries his fingers into the slots and begins to unspool the tape, wildly tugging it out onto the ground. Everyone, including yourself, falls silent, watching as Seonghwa then drops the plastic shell onto the ground and begins to take the putter to it. His hair falls out of place as he beats the shit out of the VHS tape with the putter, the shell cracking from the sheer force at which he strikes it.
               “This dude is wacked,” Mingi mumbles.
               “I heard Scream was a good movie,” Jongho says, brows furrowed in confusion.
               “Guess we won’t find out now,” Yeosang replies dryly, “I suppose we’re watching Mystery Science Theater 3000 tonight.”
               Seonghwa exhales, his cheeks puffing out while doing so, tossing the putter to the ground while scooping up the remains of the VHS tape. He runs his fingers through his hair although it doesn’t fix it.
               “Thanks guys. Have a good night.” Seonghwa says as if he just didn’t go postal in the middle of the minigolf course.
               He glances at you before taking off back the way he came. You give an apologetic look at Yeosang, unsure what to say and settling on nothing. Following Seonghwa, who is still holding onto what little of the tape remained, with the cheery pop music playing over the sound of laughter and people talking, you aren’t sure if speaking right now would help him. Does he need comfort? Is he relieved? He showed no hesitation in destroying the tape immediately. Had that been his plan the entire night?
               Luckily for the attendant working the entrance, the exit loops around the other side of the course, taking you both into the parking lot before Seonghwa can start bickering with him again. He drops the pieces of the plastic casing into the nearest trash can although he is still holding the film, wrapping it carefully around his slender fingers.
               “Seonghwa,” You say tentatively and he stops, looking over at you.
               In the lights of the parking lot, Seonghwa is a slim figure with his black hair glowing. His breathing is slightly uneven, his features not nearly as collected as they’ve been all night. There is something raw wiggling underneath the surface of his composure, something you desperately want to touch.
               “I’ll take you back to your place now,” He says roughly, “Come on.”
               You don’t know what to reply with so you merely nod. A few minutes later, the car is pulling out of the parking lot and back onto the main road. You quietly tell Seonghwa how to get to your apartment from here. The tape is in his lap, the film nestled like a snake in between his thighs. You wonder what he will do with it. Set it on fire, maybe. He seems intent on destroying it completely. You understand why but still feel a pain of regret in your chest. There would be no viewing the rest of the tape now.
               You suddenly feel very tired. Between work and the entire events of the sex tape, you’re ready to crawl in bed and sleep in tomorrow. You lean back in the seat, staring idly out the window. The radio is playing music quietly and Seonghwa doesn’t say a word. You still get the sense he is wrangling himself in. Does he do that all the time? Why bother? Why shield yourself from people to the extent he does? You see his smile from the tape in your mind once again. To your surprise, you feel a spark of jealousy buried in your chest. His ex got to see the real Seonghwa while you’ve been seeing his façade. You want to know him like that. You want to touch him like that.
               The silent admission to yourself is unsettling. It’s been ages since you’ve wanted someone. Your attraction to Seonghwa earlier this week seems easier to digest when you thought your personalities wouldn’t be compatible. But his words outside the minigolf course were correct – those few minutes of him on your TV screen are making something deep inside you stir.
               The streetlights swim lazily across Seonghwa as he drives silently. They blend in with his white sweater before appearing on his tanned skin, small pools of light that travel over his body before eventually being lost behind the car.
               When he parks at your apartment complex, he goes, “I’ll walk you to your door.”
               This time, you don’t refuse. Back into the cold air, you stop at the outskirts of the pool near the staircase to the second floor.
               “Seonghwa,” You say again, your hand resting against the cold metal of the banister, “Now that you got the tape, and everything is sorted out, I really –”
               “Don’t,” He says swiftly, “You’re going to apologize again. It isn’t your fault. I already told you that.”
               “I know what you said,” You are two steps up on the staircase, looking slightly down at Seonghwa, whose hand is inches from yours on the banister, “But outside of the golf course…”
               “Was I too harsh?”
               “I just don’t understand why you’re pretending all the time,” You say after a beat of silence, “When I met you earlier this week, you were pleasant enough. But it’s obvious that isn’t what you’re really like. Just the few minutes of the tape showed that to me. And I’ve caught it once or twice before, at work, when you are obviously shoving your real self back down. Throughout tonight, I’ve seen glimpses of who you actually are – the quick lying, the flashes of irritation, your nerves at someone seeing the tape…I just don’t understand why you hide it everywhere but on a VHS tape.”
               There. You said what you’ve been thinking the whole night. Seonghwa’s face doesn’t change the entire time you speak. But you aren’t fooled by it anymore.
               Seonghwa places his feet on the first step of the staircase. He’s extremely close to you now; his body’s warmth seeps into your skin. You fight the urge to place your hands against his chest to pull on his sweater so that he will kiss you.
               You aren’t sure what his reply was going to be but you aren’t prepared for the way his voice drops to almost a murmur. “You’re really intrigued about the tape, aren’t you? I wonder what makes you so curious. It is the idea of letting the camera see all of you for who you truly are? Is it just the idea of fucking and recording it that you find so compelling? Maybe both.”
               You’ve gone still, frozen in surprise at the words leaving his mouth. He leans forward, his lips so close to your ear that your heart skips a beat. “Do you regret turning the tape off when you did? Your conscience prevailed; you did the morally right thing in a few minutes. Others would have watched the entire thing. But some part of you wishes it kept it running so you could watch me fuck my ex, listen to what we talked about. You know, I was so focused on getting rid of the tape, I don’t even know what one this one contains. We filmed so many,” He lingers on the last word as your brain fills up with mental images of tape after tape of Seonghwa, “What happened in the first few minutes of the tape?”
               Shakily, you manage to whisper, “You were on a beach. And then in a diner. Finally, a hotel room.”
               You don’t see Seonghwa smile but you can feel it, like an arrow in the dark, so fast that the sensation is gone in a second. “The vacation tape,” He pauses and continues, “I prefer being on film. Being seen. I feel comfortable and at ease. The camera misses nothing. The lens cuts through everything. All the noise and the bullshit. It isn’t about watching it back later. It isn’t about sharing it. I fill a tape, shove it in the collection. Destroy them when the relationship ends. Rinse and repeat. It’s about capturing that one moment and putting it on film. Everything when the camera isn’t on feels like bullshit. I feel like bullshit.”
               “Why?”
               Seonghwa shakes his head. “Dunno. Just always have. I only exist when the camera is on. Otherwise, I can’t be myself. Been that way forever. I’ll ask you again – did you regret turning the tape off?”
               It doesn’t even enter your mind to lie. “Yes.”
               “You wanted to watch me fuck my ex? Or did you want to be on that tape with me?”
               Your body is growing hot all over. You wish Seonghwa would touch you. His hand is so close to yours that you would settle for him just to brush his fingers against your skin.
               “Yes,” You whisper so quietly that if he weren’t so close to you, it would have been impossible to hear. You aren’t even sure what question you’re answering. Maybe it is both.
               But Seonghwa pulls away abruptly then. With his warmth gone, it feels like a hole has opened in your chest. He runs his fingers through his hair but you take note of the slightly uneven way he is breathing. You want to grab him, see him for who he really is with no pretenses, have the camera lens on his body while he –
               “I need to get home. I won’t be able to relax until I finish destroying the film,” His eyes trail along your body quickly and it feels deeply personal to have Seonghwa look at you in such a manner, “Goodnight.”
               You don’t want him to go. You want him to follow you to your apartment and fuck you silly. But he turns around and in a couple of seconds, he has rounded the corner, leaving you alone with your thoughts, your desires and the briefest glimmer of the man Seonghwa truly is.
Monday, October 13th, 1997
               “You gonna explain why Seonghwa opened up a can of whoop-ass on a VHS tape in the middle of a minigolf course on Saturday night or am I not privy to that information?”
               You stifle a groan, unable to duck and dodge San any longer. You had yesterday off, which didn’t end up being as fun as it sounded, due to the fact all you did was lay in bed running the events of Saturday night over and over in your head.
               And you still hadn’t come up with any sort of realistic story to tell San about the tape especially since Seonghwa had opted to destroy it with a minigolf putter.
               “It’s complicated,” You finally settle on.
               San’s eyebrows shoot upwards. “Complicated? Should I be concerned about your little work crush? Could he be a little…unwell?”
               “He’s not unwell,” You say defensively, “It’s just complicated. Can you just drop it, please? It was his tape, after all.”
               “Just makes no sense. You said the situation had to do with you. But why did Seonghwa go postal on the tape like that?”
               You’re starting to get a headache. You’ve had way too much coffee before coming into work and your nerves are frazzled between the idea of seeing Seonghwa and how much time you’ve spent analyzing his words to you Saturday night before he left. Yes you told him on the staircase, yes you wanted to watch the entire tape, yes you wanted to see him have sex with his ex and yes, you wanted to be on film with him. A jarring admission, one that you’re still grappling with.
               “San, my break ended a few minutes ago. Just please, for the sake of our friendship, I’m asking you to drop the entire thing.”
               He holds his hands up in a gesture of innocence. “Fine. Consider it dropped. However, it is not forgotten.”
               “I’ll take it, thanks,” You reply, heading quickly to the exit. “Listen, I’ll help you with inventory sometime this week, okay?”
               “You’re just sucking up to me.”
               “Yes, but you hate inventory,” You fire back over your shoulder.
               “I do so I’ll accept it!” He calls after you.
               Back in the store, you meander your way towards to the women’s clothing department. Part of you is desperate to run into Seonghwa while the other part is dreading it. What do you even say to him? Just a simple hello? How can you look him in the face knowing his entire personality is carefully curated bullshit to hide who he really is? How can you talk to him after what he said to you last night? How can you hold a conversation when you are so desperate to have him?
               You end up avoiding the shortcut through the men’s clothing section. Even so, your eyes carefully scan the area for any sight of him among the racks of ugly dresses and t-shirts. Once you’re safely in the dressing rooms, reorganizing and cleaning out the mess people leave behind, you relax slightly.
               You wanted to watch me fuck my ex? Or did you want to be on that tape with me?
               Seonghwa’s words bang around in your brain no matter how much you try to push them away. Even as you go through the motions of work, your mind lingers on how warm his body was so close to yours on the stairs, the low timber of his voice in your ear, and how he saw through you and all your pretenses.
               In fact, you’re so swept up in work and your thoughts, that you don’t realize Seonghwa is in the dressing room area until he says your name. Flinching in surprise, you look over your shoulder.
               He stands there in his blue work vest, his arms so full of clothes that it looks like they could spill onto the floor at any second. Seonghwa’s face is beautifully impassive. You get the sense he has also been avoiding you.
               “Wanted to drop off all the women’s clothes that ended up in the men’s dressing rooms before my shift ends,” He explains in a clipped tone.
               “Right. Thanks.” You move closer, trying to take the clothes from him.
               But there is simply too much and a good portion falls onto the floor. Your hands brush against his in the mess of fabric, sending your heart racing so quickly that it almost makes your chest hurt. Seonghwa is staring at you through his long lashes although his eyes dart away when yours meet his.
               You manage to wrangle a good chunk of the clothes away, tossing it onto the small table at the end of the hallway that you use to organize them. “You can just dump the rest here.”
               Seonghwa does so and then an awkward silence settles across the empty dressing rooms. The store closes in ten minutes. You didn’t think you’d be seeing Seonghwa at all today. We filmed so many he had whispered, teasing you with the mental images of whatever lurked on those tapes.
               “Do you want any help?” He offers.
               “I got it, thanks,” You say quickly, knowing the longer he stands next to you, the higher chance there is at the conversation going sideways.
               His fingers are touching one of the t-shirts, his expression unfocused. “I wanted to apologize.”
               You hesitate and then go, “For what?”
               “I was pretty…intense Saturday night. I also talked to you out of line at the end there,” He swallows, staring at the pile of clothes as if they were a fascinating creature, “I shouldn’t have done that. I’m sorry.”
               You feel stuck. It would be simpler to accept the apology and put the entire thing in the past. But a much larger part of you has shifted since discovering what Seonghwa is really like, brought to life by his words and the images on the tape, growing louder every passing moment. It is difficult to ignore these new feelings inside your chest.
               “It’s all good. It was a stressful situation. I think it would make anyone start trippin although San is asking questions and I have nothing to tell him. It is a little harder to come up with a story when you…beat the shit out of the tape in front of everyone.”
               “Yeah,” He looks at you sheepishly. “I lost my cool for a sec.”
               “Cracked your pleasant exterior there,” You joke quietly.
               His lips twist up into a smile for a brief second. You’re feeling hot all over, knowing it would be far easier just to let the conversation stop here. Easier to return to the way things were before the tape. Let Seonghwa be a work crush and nothing else.
               “But, uhm,” You pick up a shirt, carefully folding it so that you don’t have to look at him, “I didn’t mind how you talked to me. At the end of the night.”
               Seonghwa’s breathing changes slightly, something you wouldn’t have noticed a few days ago. But it is as if viewing the tape, learning about who he is and spending Saturday night with him has synced you up to Seonghwa in a new way.
               “Is that right?” He finally replies, his voice even and without emotion.
               “Yeah, I’ve been…thinking about what you said,” Your voice trembles slightly, betraying your nerves.
               Seonghwa moves ever so slightly closer to you. Relief swoops through your body at his close proximity. “What about it?” He murmurs.
               You take in a small breath and go, “I was thinking about asking you to come over. Tomorrow night.”
               He hesitates for a small second. “To your place?”
               “Yeah. I mean. If you’d want.” You are a mixture of anxiety and desire.
               But you push through it to look at Seonghwa’s face. You recognize the expression this time – he is teying to maintain his calm exterior, aware that he is at work and in a public setting.
                “Should I bring anything?” He asks in a forced nonchalant voice.
               Your grip tightens on the shirt. After spending all day trying to dodge Seonghwa, you can’t believe how you’re cracking after a couple of minutes around him. But perhaps avoiding him was your own way of denying what you wanted.
               “Maybe your camera,” You say with forced casualness.
               But the words seem to crack Seonghwa. He moves closer to you, just as close as the time on the staircase. In a strangled voice, he goes, “You’re not making fun of me, are you?”
               Surprised, you exclaim, “What? No, not at all.”
               His hand reaches out for you but then thinks better of it. Falling back to his side, he flexes his fingers. His voice drops to a whisper. “I work a closing tomorrow but I’ll come over afterwards.”
               You’re done work at five tomorrow which gives you plenty of time to get ready for…whatever you’re getting into. Seonghwa’s gaze is heavy, his energy buzzing. You want to push him, crack him open fully so that you can experience what he is like without any barriers…and maybe you want the same thing for yourself too. You want to know what it would be like being stripped away of all things you carefully hide behind without even realizing it. You just didn’t know that such a thing was so desired until you saw Seonghwa on that tape.
               You nod, wanting to say more but nerves getting the best of you. He pulls away, trying to control his breathing. There is a slight flush of colour creeping up his neck. You get a vivid mental image of being on top of him, your hands against his chest, taking him fully inside you –
               Quickly, you look away, afraid your thoughts might be all over your face. Seonghwa wishes you a goodnight, leaving the dressing rooms quickly before the energy crackles and explodes, spilling out into work.
               He works so hard to keep everything separate, after all.
Tuesday, October 14th, 1997
               You’re looking out the window of the living room, staring at the unremarkable view. The neon of the Taco Bell sign washes over the street, bathing the cars in the bright colour for a second or two as they drive by. You can just make out the interior, a swirl of pink, blue and purple, like a little lighthouse in the night.
               You don’t think you’ve never felt so nervous staring at Taco Bell before.
               It’s past ten which means Seonghwa will be here in about twenty minutes. Having invited him on a whim, driven by a combination of lust and curiosity, you’re now dealing with the reality of what you suggested. In asking him to bring his camera, you’ve basically admitted to him and yourself that you want to see what filming together would be like. And while you’re aware that you can change your mind and tell him to forget it once he arrives, the truth of the matter is that you don’t want to do such a thing.
               Your attraction to Seonghwa has only been heightened since seeing the tape, and your own sexual exploration seemed to be spilling out of you with a mighty need. As nervous as you feel, you also have no interest in denying it any longer.
               You aren’t sure how long you stare out the window, spacing out, but a soft knock at the door startles your thoughts away. Exhaling slowly, you cross the small living room, opening the front door to see Seonghwa standing there.
               He’s wearing a very colourful button up tucked into a pair of blue jeans. A bag is slung over his shoulder and his hair is a little messy from the chilly wind. Your heart skips a beat violently at the sight of him.
               “Hey. Oh, uh, come in,” You say awkwardly, moving to the side as Seonghwa walks past, “How was work?”
               “Fine, the usual. You know how it is. I like your place.”
               You blink. “Really? I don’t think it’s anything exciting.”
               He glances over his shoulder. “Well, I didn’t say it was exciting. I just like how comfortable it looks.”
               “Thanks. How are you doing with unpacking your own place?”
               Seonghwa places the bag on the coffee table while replying, “Besides the mishap with the tape, it has been uneventful.”
               He speaks of the tape so candidly now although given the circumstances, why wouldn’t he?
               “Did you and your ex live together long?” It no longer felt awkward to mention his last relationship – so much is different now with Seonghwa.
               “We did although that seemed to be our undoing. Only lasted a few months after we moved in together,” He replies while turning to face you. “For the sake of honesty, I haven’t been with anyone else since my relationship ended. Does that bother you?”
               “No because I haven’t either. I find those things…distracting. I just was focusing on work and other things in my life.”
               “Am I a distraction?”
               “What?”
               He repeats himself.
               Your cheeks grow warm. “I mean – technically, yes.”
               Seonghwa is fighting off a smile. You can tell by the way he tilts his face away from your direction to look at your TV.
               “Do you want anything to drink?” You offer.
               “Just some water is fine, thanks.”
               “Alright. Uh, please sit down. Don’t feel like you need to stand there.”
               You scamper out of the living room, wishing your nerves would settle. Now that he is here, you feel scattered. Your attraction to him has grown tenfold in the last few days and you can’t remember the last time you’ve wanted someone this much.
               Returning with a couple of glasses of water, you sit down next to Seonghwa on the couch. Desperate to fill the silence, you turn on the TV, immediately blasted with a Surge ad.
               “Listen,” Seonghwa says after a few minutes, “We don’t have to do anything tonight. I don’t want you to think I went into anything with expectations.”
               Hurriedly, you reply, “I know that.”
               “I understand you’re curious because the concept is new to you. But that doesn’t mean you’re going to be into it.”
               You turn to face him, your fingers wrapped around your glass of water. Seonghwa tilts his head in your direction.
               “I am curious,” You say quickly, “And I don’t really understand why. I’ve never thought about something like that until I saw those few minutes of the tape. And I…” You swallow, feeling shy. “Well, I only think about it with you. I was attracted to you right away but…you seemed so…nice. As if there wasn’t a lot going on underneath the surface. So, I assumed the attraction would never deepen. But after I saw the tape…I felt like I saw you.”
               “And?” He prompts.
               “And I was intrigued. At you. At the idea of filming stuff like that. The idea of a camera around, catching all these private moments. I started realizing how much you pull yourself under control, how you’re wearing a mask all the time.”
               “Everyone wears a mask in public. Most people just don’t realize it.”
               “You think I’m realizing it now then?”
               “Maybe. I don’t want to speak over your feelings or pretend I know what you’re thinking of. But yes, you’re right about me. I struggle with being vulnerable, being myself. I always switch into this false personality. I don’t even mean to do it.”
               “But you don’t do it while recording.”
               “That’s right. Something about seeing that little red light on switches it off.”
               “And what about…” Your shyness deepens.
               “Filming myself having sex?” After you nod, Seonghwa goes, “It just turns me on. Makes sex better. Makes me more relaxed. In that moment of filming, I feel free. Capturing those moments of pleasure…it feels crucial to my enjoyment.”
               “Has everyone you’ve been dating into it too?”
               “After I realized how much I like it, yeah. When the relationship ends, I destroy all the tapes. Just out of respect. Recording it isn’t really about watching it back anyway. It’s just about that moment of filming the intimacy of it.”
               You fall silent, battling more questions and your ever growing desire for Seonghwa. He turns his attention back to the TV, although you get the feeling he really isn’t engrossed in the episode of NYPD Blue playing. Your eyes land on the large bag he brought.
               Could you record yourself sleeping with Seonghwa? Knowing that moment would be captured on a tape with him? It’s all you have been thinking about since discovering Seonghwa’s secret. But now that you can make it a reality, your nerves are still battling for dominance.
               “Could I see it?” You ask suddenly, “The camera, I mean.”
               “Sure,” He replies, leaning forward and pulling the bag towards him.
               Unzipping the bag, he pulls out a large and chunky camcorder, resting it in his lap. He runs his fingers along the side where the spot for the tape opens while saying, “I was reading that they’re making these new cameras that are apparently a lot smaller and would be digital, if you could imagine such a thing. Would make filming a lot easier than this heavy thing.”
               “So you don’t…hold it during…”
               He laughs. “No. I just plop it down on a table or something during sex. But if the digital cameras end up truly becoming a thing, I suppose I could hold it during sex. Or you could,” He immediately realizes what he casually said and looks embarrassed. “Not that I meant – I don’t mean to assume that we would sleep together. Or you would be comfortable filming anything.”
               You reach for the camera, grabbing it out of his lap and into your own, studying it. It isn’t as though it’s your first time holding such a thing but it has been a while. “How do you start recording?”
               “You insert the tape and then press this button,” He leans closer, showing you where it is located.
               You study his face, eyes lingering on his lips. “Where’s the tape?”
               Seonghwa meets your gaze for a beat before moving away to retrieve it from the bag. He presses a button, the side popping out so he can insert the VHS tape. Snapping it shut, he says, “Then you can hit record. Each tape can roughly film for two hours.”
               You hesitate for a moment before reaching for the camera. Your fingers touch his, an electric vibration that sparks along your skin. You can hear Seonghwa’s breath catch slightly but he relinquishes the camera. You look into the camera’s viewfinder while popping the cover off the lens.
               You know what you want – Seonghwa and the exploration the recording will bring. Even though it is something you’ve never thought of until that moment you saw Seonghwa on your TV, with his beautiful smile, toned chest and low voice talking dirty, it seems to have awakened something deep inside you. Something that won’t rest, won’t stop, until you explore your desires.
               You press down on the record button, making sure Seonghwa is in frame. You know he can see the red light, aware that you’re recording.
               “Tell me about the first time you filmed yourself having sex,” You ask bluntly.
               Seonghwa raises an eyebrow although the chuckle he emits makes it clear he isn’t offended. “You interviewing me now?”
               “A little.”
               “It actually wasn’t my idea, if you can believe it. My girlfriend at the time brought it up to me one night after she noticed how much I liked recording home movies.”
               “Did she notice how comfortable you seemed on camera?”
               “Yeah, she did. It felt like a natural progression to me like oh, why hadn’t I thought of it? I was always trying to get in front of the camera ever since I can remember. But she was the first one to suggest taking it that far.”
               “Were you nervous?”
               “No.” Seonghwa looks relaxed now. The tension you hadn’t even realized he carried has now softened, his shoulders are lowered while he leans against the couch, still facing you. His hair grazes against his cheek from the angle. You catch yourself admiring his face, the slope of his nose, how his fingers rest in his lap. “No, I felt comfortable right away. What about you?”
               “What about me?”
               “You ever think about filming yourself having sex before?”
               “No, absolutely not.”
               “Not until my tape.”
               “That’s right.”
               “You like filming me?” He asks and after you nod, he goes, “This time, you don’t have to shut it off before it gets to the good part.”
               “A little cocky now, don’t you think?”
               He gives a casual shrug. This is the Seonghwa you saw on the TV – relaxed, confident, letting each emotion come easily without judgement. This is the Seonghwa you’ve wanted.
                You lean back against the couch, the camera still recording in your lap while motioning to the front of the TV. “Why don’t you show me how comfortable you are in front of the camera?” You can hardly believe the words after you say them. I guess it isn’t just Seonghwa who shows new sides of himself to the camera.
               But Seonghwa only grins at your request, getting up and standing in front of the TV. He pulls the colourful shirt from the confines of his jeans, his fingers swiftly undoing the buttons to expose a thin white tank top underneath. Your heart rate is already accelerating at the sight of the fabric resting against his taunt stomach.
               “Is this what you wanted?” He teases and your thighs clench at the fact you’re hearing that tone of voice being used on you now.
               “Don’t be coy.”
               Another grin. Yes, Seonghwa is correct – that little red light on from the camera changes him entirely. He shrugs out of the shirt, exposing his shoulders before it falls to the floor. Wearing just the tank top now, he hooks his thumbs into the front of his jeans, staring at you with an expression that looks almost devious.
               “What?” You say defensively.
               His grin widens. “Nothing. You’re just obvious.”
               “What does that mean?”
               “Come here and I’ll show you.”
               You stand up, holding the heavy camera while ambling towards him. He reaches for the camera, taking it out of your hands and placing it on the top of the TV stand, giving the lens a view of your faces down to just under your shoulders.
               After he finishes positioning the camera, Seonghwa turns his attention back to you. He is as close to your body as he was the other night on the stairs. Your breathing is uneven, aware of the camera on you, aware of everything you’ve been secretly thinking about is going to come to fruition.
               “See?” He murmurs.
               “What?”
               Seonghwa smirks while running one finger down along your arm and your body shivers in response. “That. How much you want me.”
               “Well, some of us aren’t experts at hiding ourselves all the time,” You counter.
               His lips hover just above yours, hands coming up to cup your cheeks. Your body is screaming for Seonghwa, your brain buzzing with need, lips parted in anticipation.
               There is no witty retort from him. Instead, Seonghwa kisses you. Softly at first, enough to shake the centre of you. His lips against yours makes you feel slightly delirious as if not realizing you were dying of thirst. The camera’s gaze remains steady on both of you while the kiss continues. His tongue slips past your lips, exploring your mouth so tenderly that your hands hold onto the band of his jeans to steady yourself.
               Your whimper is muffled against the kiss, face warm, body responsive to this man you’ve only known for a week – and only truly known for a few days. Seonghwa’s hands are in your hair as yours circle around his small waist, pressing him against your body. He is stiff in his jeans but still his hands travel downward until they rest on your ass, squeezing it. The kiss continues, growing deeper, hungrier, breaking briefly so you can pull off his tank top.
               You are pressing your hands against his hard stomach, running up along his chest until curling them around his shoulders, breathless at the sight of him. His skin is warm, inviting, and the sight of him in just his jeans is incredibly sexy.
               Seonghwa brings his face to your neck, kissing along there while his grip on your ass tightens. Your eyes flutter closed for a second. The barriers of your clothing are becoming an annoyance now. You want more of him, you want all of him.
               When you open your eyes, they land on the camera. A silent observer, missing nothing, no judgement to be found.
               “Seonghwa,” You whisper and he stops, pulling away just enough to look at you. His eyes are hazy with lust, lips parted prettily. “Come with me to my room,” You pause for a second before adding, “And bring the camera.”
*
               In your room, the camera is once again propped onto the top of the TV which gives it the perfect angle of the bed. When originally purchasing the second TV at a yard sale, a friend had questioned needing another one. Now, you’re grateful for it – where else would the camera filming the two of you go?
 You are still fully dressed, something Seonghwa looks to rectify from the way he gently nudges you into view of the camera while he stands behind you.
               His hands are on your waist, skittering upwards until your shirt is pulled off, tossed onto the nearby dresser. In just your bra and sweatpants now, acutely aware of the camera, your breathing grows uneven. Seonghwa’s hands continue to travel, now onto your bra, squeezing your breasts together. He is kissing along your neck once again, his lips a soft whisper along your skin.
               He tugs down on the bra, exposing your tits not only to his hands but to the camera as well. The entire thing feels more intimate than any other sexual encounter you’ve had before; the camera adds to the feeling as strange as it sounds in your head.
               Seonghwa’s hands are warm. He cups your breasts, thumbs brushing across your nipples. You’re soaking wet, overwhelmed by the desire you’re experiencing for him. He rolls your nipples in between his fingers, pinching them a little, allowing the camera to take in the sight of him groping you like this.
               You tilt your face in his direction and his lips find yours once again. You like how Seonghwa tastes in your mouth – it is familiar, almost as if you’ve kissed him before, kissed him a thousand times. When he pulls away, the look in his eyes is heavy, laced with lust and stripped away from any pretenses he usually carried so close to him.
               You brush his hands away from your body, instead grabbing him by the waist band of his jeans, moving him closer to the camera on the top of the TV. Unbuttoning his jeans, you rub him through the denim, taking note of the way his breathing catches.
               You lean towards the camera, moving it to the shelf underneath the TV, giving the lens a perfect view of you on your knees in front of Seonghwa. You look up at him, unzipping his pants and pulling them down until his boxers are exposed.
               The camera can’t catch his facial expression but you can see it – the way he looks at you with his plump lips slightly parted, his eyes dancing across your hands down to your breasts. It isn’t just giving yourself over to him, it’s giving yourself over to the camera too.
               Your hands rub against the bulge in his boxers, feeling the warmth through the fabric. Your hands dip into the band of his boxers, pulling it down until his cock springs free. Gently wrapping your hand around him, you bring your tongue across the head, sweeping across it once, twice, three times. Seonghwa exhales slowly while you begin to pump his cock, looking up at him. The camera’s gaze is steady on the two of you, the moment you take his length into your mouth captured on film.
               Your tongue presses against the tip of his cock for a few seconds before taking more of him, filling your mouth with his length. Your other hand goes to his balls, fondling them while your tongue presses along the underside of his shaft.
               Spurned on by the soft noises of pleasure that escape Seonghwa, you begin to bob on his cock. Sometimes, he pops out of your mouth, the tip of him a sticky sweet mess of your salvia and his precum. It glistens in the low lights before you take him once again, as much as you can. You enjoy the way he fills your mouth, stretches out your lips with his thickness.
               Seonghwa’s eyes close, his head rolling back as a guttural groan topples from in between his pink lips before he curses sharply and pulls away. His cock slides out, precum smearing against your cheek.
               With a small shake of his head, he goes, “I don’t wanna finish. I want to feel you wrapped around me.”
               Seonghwa helps you up, scooping the camera off the shelf and back onto the top of the TV. This time he puts more care into the angle, asking you to sit on the bed while he looks through the viewfinder until he looks pleased with it.
               “Look at you, big shot director,” You tease at one point.
               He raises his eye from the viewfinder. “Hey, it’s your debut,” Seonghwa says gravely but the twinkle in his eyes makes it evident he’s joking. “Lay sideways on the bed for me, will you?”
               “Yes, sir,” You are still poking at him.
               When he seems satisfied, Seonghwa circles back to the bed. He crawls up along your body, stopping to remove your sweatpants and underwear. You’re completely naked with him on camera now while his lips travel across your stomach, stopping at your breasts. His tongue flicks over your nipples and he gently bites down on one, tugging on it with his teeth just to hear you gasp.
               Seonghwa is skin to skin with you, not an inch in between your bodies as he finally kisses your lips. Your legs curl around his waist urgently, tugging on his bottom lip with your teeth until he groans in response.
               It is simple to enter your pussy, having been wet for Seonghwa since he stepped foot inside your apartment. His length fills you swiftly until his hips touches yours. The next kiss is messy, a mixture of muffled moans and whimpers as Seonghwa goes still, allowing you to get used to the sensation of being filled with his cock.
               His hands snake up along your arms, gently pinning your hands above your head, just at the edge of the mattress. Almost lazily, Seonghwa rocks his hips. The motion is small, just enough to send shocks of warmth and pleasure through your body. You groan out his name in a plea for him to move faster but he doesn’t obey.
               “Sorry, my boo, but I’ve been thinking about this all week and I want to take my time,” Seonghwa declares, your hands entwined together, “I saw the way you looked at me when we first met, saw the disinterest flicker across your face when I drove you home the first time.” He moves his hips, pulling almost completely out of your hole. “And I went home that night and thought about inviting you over, teasing your body until you crumbled and begged for me.” He thrusts now, all the way back inside, until your hips meet once more and you gasp, your fingers curling around his for something to hold onto.
               You can recall the memory, the way you mused that Seonghwa was too pleasant, too kind in that sort of neutral, placid way that meant even though he was beautiful, he faded to the background of your memory. But there is your side of things too…
               “Your veneer isn’t perfect,” You counter with a small gasp when he rocks his hips again, “Maybe to others but not to me.”
               “Is that right?” He growls.
               Breathlessly, you explain, “I got the feeling multiple times you were holding back, hiding parts of yourself. You were so restrained all the time.” You remember the moment in the breakroom where he flattened his hand against his knee, wrangling himself under control. “But sometimes, I would see pieces. It made me want to crack those parts open, see you.”
               Seonghwa is moving your legs now, sliding his arms under them so that they fold closer to your chest. He is still as near to you as he can get physically. But the angle change is intense and you grab the edge of the bed, gasping as he begins to pump his cock deeper into your cunt.
               “And now?” He prompts but you can’t focus on the conversation anymore, not when his cock feels this good and he’s finally fucking you at a pace that only heightens the desire and pleasure. After your garbled moan, Seonghwa goes, “I’ll take that as your answer.”
               Your eyes flutter open, the red light from the camera like a spotlight. This moment - captured either forever or until Seonghwa and you were to break apart. Tiny parts of yourself, combined with Seonghwa, in this intimate moment for the camera lens.
               Your thighs shake, your pussy tightening around Seonghwa’s cock as your orgasm approaches. He keeps up the steady pace, the bed shaking with every thrust, your legs bouncing with each jerk of his hips. Your knuckles are white from clutching the edge of the bed, your bedsheets tangled around your fingers as Seonghwa pistons his cock into your wet cunt.
               And then your orgasm begins, Seonghwa’s name a shattered piece of glass on the tip of your tongue as your hips meet his. The pleasure blots out everything; it is so exquisite that you lose yourself entirely to him.
               Seonghwa pulls out, allowing you to stretch out your legs. “I want to fuck you from behind,” He says, his hands on your thighs, “Will you let me?”
               You know that means facing the camera, allowing it to capture every expression on your face. You nod and Seonghwa helps you get into position on all fours, your ass in the air and hands pressed against the bed. He runs his hands over your ass before tugging you down a little, towards his cock.
               “Seonghwa,” You say, looking over your shoulder at him. His hair is messy, his breathing rough, but all his protections over his personality are gone. He looks sexy, inviting, warm, all yours. “I want you to finish in me.”
               He stops for a moment, glancing up at you before nodding. You turn back to the camera while he enters you once again. You gasp loudly – he feels much different from this angle and your eyes almost roll back into your head from how amazing it is. Seonghwa doesn’t stop this time. He immediately begins to pump and you curse roughly as his hips smack against yours.
               One hand reaches for your hair, pulling it on it in a sharp tug, keeping your head up so that the camera captures your ever changing facial expressions. You like that it’s being filmed, both you and Seonghwa’s faces being recorded as you chase the pleasure your bodies can give.
               He grunts out your name as he fucks you, releasing his hold on your hair so that he can grip your waist. Your hands shake and you finally relent, lowering your front half onto the bed. This allows him to fuck your cunt even deeper. You’re cursing loudly, begging him to keep going because you’re going to cum again. He doesn’t stop and you’re sure that the camera is going to show a thin layer of sweat across his forehead from how quickly Seonghwa’s hips snap into yours, his balls smacking against your ass, your wet pussy taking him easily.
               Your hands grip the bed sheets, face down in the bed now, trying to muffle how much noise you’re making because of the neighbors. Seonghwa is grunting, panting, his fingers digging into your soft flesh as his cock pounds into your sopping wet hole.
               Your orgasm starts suddenly, without any warning, and your back arches. You bring your ass backwards, trying to meet his erratic thrusts. At the same time, Seonghwa groans out your name and it sounds like gravel against the bottom of a shoe. He begins to spill inside of your cunt. Together, you both cum, in full view of the camera. His warmth overflows and when he pulls out, you can feel him dripping out of your cunt.
               Legs like jelly, you fall against the bed, completely exhausted. But Seonghwa slides off, reaching for the camera and bringing it onto the bed. He plops it briefly onto the sheets while his hands go to your hips, rolling you onto your back.
               “What?” You mumble, slightly dazed.
               “I want to see your cunt filled with my load,” He explains, bringing the camera close, peering through the viewfinder.
               His other hand gently spreads your lips apart, showing his cum leaking out from in between your folds. It’s lurid, completely pornographic, and you find it thrilling.
               “You’re a perv,” You tease him.
               His finger dips into your cunt, scooping up some of his cum. His hand trails up along your body, along with the camera lens, and when his finger is against your lips, you open, sucking his cum clean off.
               “And what are you then?” He says.
               “Your new girlfriend,” You reply boldly.
               Seonghwa pulls away from the viewfinder, his eyes meeting yours. In the now quiet room, the only noise is of his soft breathing mingling with yours. The past is wiped clean, replaced with the new tape, the collision of two people caught on camera, entwining together both physically and mentally.
               “That sounds perfect to me,” is what he finally says and you can read in between the lines – you aren’t just privy to Seonghwa’s true self through a camera lens anymore. You get access to him all the time.
               You smile up at him, fucked out completely and never been more content.
               Seonghwa returns the look, his finger hovering over the button to stop recording.
               “What do you want to do now?” He asks.
               You think for a moment before going, “We should –”
               And his finger presses the button, ending the tape.
the end.
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empress-simps · 20 days
Note
Can I get period comfort with the marauders? and or all of them is fine, and it can be romantic or platonic! I might be projecting because I just got mine the time I’m typing this. 😩
Feel free to ignore this request if it makes you uncomfortable to write :-)
Hi darling, thank you for requesting, this is too cute ugh- I hope you don't mind but I made it Poly!Marauders! (I seriously need to have more fics of poly!Marauders) I also crave period comfort fics when it's that time of the month, so I hope this is what you had in mind, enjoy! (Note: I literally published this the second I finished writing it, expect possible typos and grammatical errors)
Lazy Days
Pairing: Poly!Marauders x Fem! Reader
CW: Language and Marlene being herself. (1.4k words)
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“Godric’s balls, this shit bloody hurts.”
You groaned, it hasn’t even been a whole minute since you woke up; and you were already writhing in pain from your lower abdomen and the headache that was slowly getting stronger every second. Out of all the days you could’ve gotten your period, it just had to be where you made plans with your boyfriends to go to Hogsmeade.
You sometimes wondered what you did in your past life to deserve this monthly pain- Marlene tells you you’re just being overdramatic, but who is she to say that about you when she honestly thought she was going to pass out just because Dorcas talked to her? She had no right.
Lily looked over her shoulder and your direction as she was busy fixing her hair, trying to look presentable for the day as she scanned your form. “Your turn?” she asked, lightly frowning. You could only nod in reply as you watched her take out some heat pads, urging you to take it. You immediately snatched it out of her hands, muttering thanks to the red-haired girl and placing it in your tummy. “Are you still going to Hogsmeade with your lover boys?” she asked, applying a bit of lip gloss and mascara.
“Lils, can’t you see the state I’m in?” You complained, rolling in bed as two of your friends are already getting ready to go to their respective Hogsmeade dates. She shot you a pitying look, “I have a solution.” Marlene announces out loud, trying her best not to burst out laughing. “I know it won’t be any good as long as an idea is created in that head of yours, but let’s hear it.” You sat up, crossing your arms and staring at your friend, an eyebrow raised, urging her to go on.
She clutched her imaginary pearl necklaces and glared at you playfully. “How could you?! This solution will be effective for a couple of months, you know!” Now, that got you interested. Scooting to the foot of your bed, you leaned closer to what Marlene had to say, heck- even Lily stopped getting ready as she turned her full attention to Marlene. Was it a potion that can minimize period cramps? If so, you’re ready to spend hundreds of galleons just so you can get a hold of it.
“I say you get one of them to knock you up.” She cackled, barely avoiding the pillow you threw at her and Lily’s shocked gasp.
“You’re bonkers, Marlene!” You cried out, chucking another pillow in her laughing form which hit her in the head, making her stumble, but she continued to laugh hysterically.
Lily shakes her head, looking with a disapproving look at Marlene, like how a mother looks at her child when they misbehave. “We still must graduate, Marls. I’m sure Y/n is responsible enough and are taking… precautions.”
You blushed, looking away. “Damn right we are.” She grumbles, making Marlene laugh even harder.
“Darling? You in there?” Remus knocks gently, Lily opened the door to see Remus dressed in one of his grandpa sweaters, his messenger bag that he got from the three of you on his birthday was already with him, clearly ready to go.
“We’re still waiting on Padfoot and his hair care routine but other than that, we’re good to go- “Remus stopped when he stepped inside the room and saw you, disheveled and far from ready for your date. Your scarred boyfriend frowned, immediately placing the back of his hand on your forehead, checking your temperature. “Feeling under the weather, love?” before you could even answer, the little shit- Marlene, answered for you.
“She wants the three of you to knock her up so she wouldn’t have to deal with monthly periods.”
You can feel your boyfriend sputter beside you, no doubt blushing like a tomato as he managed to stutter, “W-what?” Merlin, you just want to dissolve than be here at this exact moment.
“Marlene, shut up before I hex you too much you couldn’t go on your date with Dorcas.” You warned, looking everywhere and anything to just not meet one of your boyfriend’s eyes. “I’m joking! Love you, Y/n! See ya later!” She rushed out of the room before you could even think of grabbing your wand, bumping into James and Sirius in the process.
“What was that about?” James asked no one in particular, his arm wrapped around Sirius’ waist as they entered the room. Lily sighed, “Just Marlene being Marlene.” She grabbed her bag, about to leave. “I’ll see you later, Y/n! No funny business.” Lily glares in warning at the boys, before shooting you a smile and closing the door shut.
“Now, why aren’t you dressed yet darling?” Sirius kissed your cheek in greeting, sitting beside you as James took a seat beside Remus. “Period cramps.” You grumbled, plopping on your bed again, sighing. “Sorry my loves, looks like you three have no choice but wish I was with you in Honeydukes.” You joked, seeing them exchange a glance with each other. “If you can’t go then we won’t go.” James concluded, already taking off his shoes as Sirius shimmied off his leather jacket and Doc Martens, racing with James, seeing who can cuddle with you fastest.
Remus sighs, sharing a look with you as he saw both his boyfriends almost squish you. “You blokes.” He proceeded to take off his converse and join the cuddle puddle, placing a hand on your lower abdomen, “heat pads?” He asks, looking at you.
“Yeah, Lily let me borrow hers.” You protested when Remus basically took it and threw it on Lily’s bed. “You’re mean, Remmy.” Whining, you try to get up and get it back when the boys gently push you down, not letting you escape their grasp.
“It was already pretty cold, darling. Besides, I’m here.” Remus places his warm hand on your abdomen, even massaging it lightly. You visibly relaxed under his touch. “See? Much better.” He grins. You chuckled, “Yeah, I forgot. You’re a walking furnace, love.”
“If we dropped an egg on Moony, would it sizzle? Or just slowly cook?” James asked curiously, making you throw your head back in laughter.
The room was filled with warmth, with Sirius and James’ presence as well as Remus’ literal warmth. You nestled deep into the cozy nest that the boys had seemed to create, as if protecting you from the outside world, their perfumes wafted into the air, making you relaxed and a tad bit sleepy.
 “You know,” Sirius started, his lips brushing gently against your temple, “I’ve heard that cuddling is a natural remedy for period cramps. Scientifically proven, I swear.”
James, who was sprawled out on the other side of the bed, nodded eagerly. “Absolutely. It’s in the Marauder’s Handbook, right next to the chapter on pranks and secret passageways.” Remus rolled his eyes playfully at their antics.
“Marauder’s handbook, huh? So, you’re telling me not only do you have a map but a magical handbook as well?” She teased, raising one eyebrow at Potter’s claims. “I have to see it.” James grins sheepishly, “Erm, well… Moony’s still writing it- “
“Don’t drag me into that, Prongs.”
“Such dorks… I guess I’ll just have to take your guys’ word for it, huh?” You grin, while James hums in agreement. Now, you wonder if you were a hero that saved a nation in your past life to even call the three dorks cuddling you your boyfriends.
“Who needs Honeydukes when I’ve got you guys?” You gestured to their faces, earning a chorus of mock protests. “Oi, I’m not a chocolate frog,” Sirius protested, but his eyes softened as he gazed at you. “But I’d gladly be your Honeydukes substitute.” He winks playfully.
“You sure do look like one though, Padfoot.” James teased as he wiggled his toes under the blanket.
“What was that supposed to mean?!”
“Nothing, I’m just joking!” James automatically shielded his face as Sirius tried to hit his arm, whining.
Together, they cocooned you in affection, their laughter blending with yours. In the little corner of your dorm, you were surrounded by love, laughter, and the promise of more lazy days with just you and your boys.
“So,” James said, breaking the comfortable silence, “who’s up for a game of Exploding Snap?” You groaned, “What if the cards explode all over my bed? I don’t have the energy to clean up after you guys.”
Sirius grinned. “Then we’ll just have to cast a cleaning charm. Besides, it’s worth it to see Moony’s face when he loses.”
Remus rolled his eyes. “I’ll have you know I’m an excellent card player.”
“Sure, Moony,” James teased. “Just like you’re an excellent cook.”
Remus snorted, “Like you’re any better than me, Prongs.”
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i-cant-sing · 10 days
Note
I’m letting him smooch my forehead for the nth time if it means I get affection and smooches 🥹🥲 I’m desperate ok?! 🫠 mf I’ve been single for way too long… I need some dopamine…. Also Forehead smooches just hit different
Ugh Baldwin is just so- imagine being mad at him for whatever reason (maybe he was a bit late to come when you called for him because he was busy with court affairs and now he has to deal with a pissed princess who's huffing and puffing because she cant get her time machine to work and out of frustration, she misplaces her anger and takes it out on Baldwin).
He has you trapped against the wall, arms on caging you as you refuse to look at him. Baldwin is trying so hard to supress his smile, because you look even more adorable when youre mad.
"Princess-" he smooches your forehead. "No." You puff your cheeks, brows furrowed as you look to the side, eyes full of anger and distress. Another smooch to you kiss. "Princess, Im sorry-"
"No." You cut him off and he automatically lands another kiss, this time right under your left eye, if only to make you look at him momentarily.
"I'm sorry I was late-"
"You said- no! No more kisses!" You evaded his lips as you glared at him, making him pout. "You said nothing is more important than me. That you'd come anytime I'd call you. I waited for 2 hours! TWO HOURS!"
"I know, my love and Im sorry. The council had some affairs that needed to be dealt with immediately, and time just slipped out of my hand. I promise, it wont happen again." He jutted out his bottom lip (and although anyone else wouldve looked ugly like this, this is Baldwin we're talking about. he's never ugly.) "Forgive me?" His blue eyes held remorse for his mistake, and it didnt help when he brought them even closer when he rested his forehead on yours, making your breath hitch.
"I- uh- fine! Fine! I forgive you!" You finally breathed as your face turned pink, moving it away from him, only for the king to chuckle as he sweetly kissed the apple of your cheeks. "Thank you, princess!"
Ugh. Pretty privelege.
You shot him a glare. "What was so important that the council wouldnt let you leave anyways?"
"Hm? Oh, they wanted to discuss who should be allowed to attend our wedding night."
You stared at him. "What?"
"Well, as per tradition, they wanted to discuss who would be allowed to see us consumate-" he burst into laughter as you threw a book at him. Your face was all red as you began pulling at his blonde hair and was about to beat him when Baldwin suddenly lifted you up and slammed you on your bed, knocking the air out of you as he caught your wrists in one hand while the other tapped your nose.
"As if I would let any see my pretty little prude." He grinned, leaning down to kiss your nose. "You're all mine, princess. All mine."
For the rest of the day, you were too flustered to say a word to him, or even look at him. And so, it never occurred to you to ask him how he convinced the council to make an exemption of this tradition for you.
If you'd asked, Baldwin would've told you that the council wanted confirmation that their monarchs did the deed... to which lover boy replied-
"When you see the queen having to be carried around after our wedding night, you'll know."
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clockwayswrites · 2 months
Text
Masked in Amity
CW: Sam doesn't come off great in this, but not Sam bashing. She just has a lot of growing up to do still and knee jerk reacts badly. (I also don't want to listen to any Sam bashing please and ty.)
Sam’s room still looked the same as always. Danny supposed that’s what happened when someone moved out for college but still came home again— especially to a home like Sam’s. There were only a few posters, a few photos, and a knickknack or two that had changed between high school and now. Danny sat on the edge of the bed like always.
“So how’s school doing?” Danny asked into the awkward silence. Silences never used to be awkward between them, or was that just looking back with rose colored glasses?
“Ugh,” Sam gripped and flopped back onto her bed next to Danny. “Why would you even ask me that? You know I hate it.”
“Because it’s what you’re doing right now? It’s a huge part of your life, you can’t just… avoid it.”
“Watch me,” Sam said, bitterly. Her snarled lips looked weird without the dark purple lipstick. “I’m going to get my stupid law degree my parents are paying for and work at some stupid corporate firm Dad has connections at and when my trust fund has made enough in interest I’m going to quite and go open a non-profit and sue all those fuckers I was forced to work for over how they’ve fucked up the environment.”
“Okay,” Danny said. He didn’t want to argue about this. He just hoped this plan worked better than the last three Sam had had before her privilege knocked her down a peg.
“Can I ask about, I don’t know, your time in Chicago at least?”
“Chicago is amazing,” Sam said, wistfully. “Being in Chicago, I mean, I’m sure you know how it is, it really makes it clear how backwater Amity Park is. The things people worry about here are so small compared to what’s out there!”
Danny just hummed in response. He didn’t exactly know what to say to that. It didn’t feel completely wrong, but it wasn’t right either. Worries weren’t a competition like that.
“And the bands!” Sam continued, thankfully changing the topic. “I have got to see so many amazing bands. The local scene alone is amazing and no one knows about them so you can be right up close and a lot of times even talk to the band after. You should come for a show sometime.”
“I can try to,” Danny said. Sam’s music wasn’t usually his thing, but something like that might be fun. It would be different at least. Danny gave her a little smile. “Maybe Tucker could make it out too.”
Sam rolled her eyes. “You know he won’t. When was the last time you talked to him not on the computer or the phone? He’s only here at Christmas when you aren’t.”
“You know how I feel about Christmas, Sam,” Danny said, holding back a sigh. Sure Tucker had been busy lately and that had made him more distant, but he was still one of their trio. “And if we plan something then Tucker can schedule for it. Don’t count him out just because he’s busy.”
“Alright, fine, we can plan something for a bigger show with Tucker,” Sam agreed, “but you still need to come out to something local. They’re really better anyways. We’ll go out to eat first and hit up a bar or three after. I know some really great places— places like you’ve never seen.”
Sam reached up and wrapped her hands around Danny’s neck, pulling him down a little. “It can be a date.”
Something in Danny balked at that. It was an innocent enough comment. Sam and him had dated and then not and then dated again or just had fun together. They’d known each other so long that it was easy to just ebb and flow out of the different levels of a relationship like that.
This time, though, Danny found himself resisting the tide. “Or we can just hang out.”
The almost dreamy smile Sam had crumpled into a frown. “What? I mean, sure, it can, but why? Are you seeing someone?”
“Yes? No? I mean, I’ve been… sleeping with someone, but we’re not dating or anything.”
“That’s okay,” Sam said easily. “I’m not going to make you be exclusive. I don’t want to be either right now; we’re not around each other enough for that and You know that I’ve been sleeping with my roommate sometimes and I’ve met a cute person in study group now too with amazing fingers.”
“No, I know, just…” Danny gave a frustrated noise. Nightwing and him weren’t even close to being exclusive. Someone like Nightwing could have anyone they wanted and with how much he liked sex, Danny was pretty sure Nightwing did have whoever he wanted. Danny was just… convenient for the hero side and Danny didn’t begrudge the other that. It was convenient for Danny too. It was just…
Danny didn’t want to keep living the same cycle with Sam where he was her world for a few weeks or months and then just back to an occasional phone call. He didn’t want to keep being pulled back to Amity Park. Maybe meeting her in Chicago would be different enough, but Sam was still so tied to Amity and always would be by her parent’s money.
“Maybe we shouldn’t do this again,” Danny said slowly, feeling the words out as he said them. “Maybe it’s time just to leave us dating in the past?”
Sam dropped her hands and sat up. “Excuse me?”
Danny rubbed at the back of his neck. “Just, we’ve tried being together in a lot of different ways and we always end up in the same place.”
“So you want to leave me in the past?”
“No!” Danny said quickly, trying to get ahead of this before Sam spiraled too badly from making assumptions. “I’d love to come to Chicago and see a band with you! Just… not as a date.”
“Because you want to leave that in the past,” Sam snapped and got up off the bed.
Danny scrambled off also.
“That’s not a bad thing. I enjoyed it and I know you did too. Just more, okay, maybe that wasn’t the best phrase? I mean maybe we shouldn’t go down that road again when we know where it’s going to end.”
Sam crossed her arms. That was never a good sign. “Right, because I’m always going to be a dead end, is that it? Not like you who’s off playing hero with the big names?”
“What? What does me being a Titan have to do with this?”
“Don’t play dumb, Danny, we both know you’re not. You left to go be a famous hero and hardly looked back at Amity Park or me or Tucker or your parents. What if the town needed you?”
Danny threw his hands up in the air. “Why would they need me? I destroyed the portal, came to an agreement with Vlad, made sure my parents couldn’t build another working one— it fixed everything!”
“And then left.”
“So I could help other people!”
“Sure it wasn’t so that you could be famous?”
Danny closed his mouth with a clack.
Sam winced at her own words. “Danny…”
“No.” Danny backed up a few steps from her. “No. You don’t get to— you of all people don’t get to come at me like that! I never wanted to be a hero, Sam! You’re the one who said I needed to protect Amity and you were right, sure, but it’s never what I wanted! You wanted it!”
“Danny, no—” Sam reached out for him and Danny stepped back again, hitting the wall.
“Yes you did, Sam! You did or I never would have had to die a second time after your wish! I lost everything again! I don’t have a future like you and Tucker, I just have being a hero. I just have being dead.”
“Come on Danny,” Sam tried. She moved close again, slowly, like Danny was some sort of feral animal.
Maybe he really was just a caged beast.
“I’m just— I better go. I’m just going to go,” Danny said. In a flash of light he was back to being Phantom. He let himself tip back and phase through the wall.
As he left Amity Park behind, he couldn’t help but think it really said something that he was far more comfortable being Phantom these day than Danny.
--
AN: Here's yous all voted on treat for the day! This comes before Danny showing up at Dick's door, quite upset.
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cobrakaisb · 1 month
Text
day 'n' nite
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summary: every friday night, like clockwork, the older counselors and campers waste their nights away at a party. usually you’re the one taking care of luke but tonight the roles are reversed and all the cards are laid out on the table.
word count: 3.1k
featuring: drunk!reader, happy luke + reader (hence the happy luke picture in the header), them being giggly and in love, a little sad at the end (but only a teeny tiny bit)
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giggles tumble out of your mouth, filling the already loud atmosphere with your pure joy. you clutch onto katrina’s arm, pulling her flush against your side, as your cheek rests on her bicep. she laughs at you, moving her arm to support your weight. 
you gasp, loudly, as her hand rests gently on your waist. “i have a boyfriend,” you snap, suddenly able to hold yourself up.
you stand, albeit a bit slowly, and move away from the girl. she does her best to hide her laughter, but fails. her laugh, however, builds up more anger in your chest, and you cross your arms.    
“oh he’s your boyfriend now? i thought you two didn’t do labels,” katrina teases.
you pout at her words, answering, “well luke says that not me. everyone knows we’re together.” 
“who’s together?” jade, a girl from the apollo cabin asks, sliding into the spot next to katrina.
you throw a nasty look in her direction, or what you assume is a nasty look. even in your inebriated state, you know that jade can’t be trusted. she was one of the first campers to hate on you, and she’s one of the few that continue to do so. once the novelty of hera having a demigod child wore off, most people left you to your own devices. there were still the occasional whispers and rumors, but jade and her friend group always seemed to be behind them. 
“none of your business,” you snap, turning your nose up at her like a fifth grader. 
she scoffs at you, “ugh whatever,” and walks away. 
you smile, a satisfied look on your face as you reclaim your seat next to katrina. she’s holding onto two cups, and you’re positive that one of them belongs to you. you reach for one of them, but she pulls it away, lifting it just out of your reach.
“i think you need a break,” she says, voice soft and caring.
“no ‘m fine,” you mumble, trying to reach for the cup again but completely missing. 
that’s the funniest thing in the world, and you burst into another giggling fit. katrina stares at you, a soft smile on her face. your hand comes up to cover your mouth, but your shoulders continue to shake with, now somewhat stifled, laughter. you can’t even register what’s so funny, but everything seems to have you in a giggly mood. one that only gets worse when luke walks across the way, followed by a group of boys who you know to be his friends.
“luke looks like a dragon prince,” you announce, pointing in his direction. 
katrina chuckles at your words; they make no sense. you, however, think they’re the most accurate description in the world. the orange and red hues from the large fire pit, courtesy of cabin nine, illuminate his features. he’s laughing at something one of his friends said, but his eyes are still deep and serious. the white scar tracing down his cheek shines brightly in the dark, and you wonder if landon knows he hurt his king. 
luke feels your eyes on him, because he turns and meets your gaze, smiling at you. you gasp as he throws you a subtle nod, like something out of a teen movie. your right hand clutches at katrina’s shirt sleeve, and you shake the material vigorously between your fingers. she looks to you, and notices the deep flush and dilated pupils. 
“he’s looking at me. i think he has a crush on me. oh my gods what do i do? i know my mother’s the goddess of marriage, but i’m not ready for this,” you ramble.
katrina laughs, again. luke looks your way, again. you start to panic, again. 
“relax,” katrina says, “he’s your boyfriend.” 
her tone is teasing, but you don’t pick up on it. all you feel is shock. your mouth falls open, and your head swivels between the curly headed boy and your best friend. 
“you’re lying,” you conclude. 
katrina shakes her head, “i’m not.” 
before you can refute her claims, the dragon king himself is in front of you. he slides into the empty seat on your left hand side, throwing his arm casually over your shoulder. there’s a can of something in his other hand, and he lifts it up to his mouth for a swig. you watch, with deep fascination, as his adam’s apple bobs while he swallows the liquid. when he’s done, he leans down to your ear, lips ghosting over the piercings that adorn it. 
“hi,” he whispers, pulling at your golden hoop helix piercing with his teeth.
you're stunned into silence. all that you can muster is a small gasp, and you turn to katrina, wondering what you should do. she’s already staring at you, but so are these other two guys, and a girl who you barely recognize. you point to luke with your thumb, asking a silent question. katrina nods, and one of the guys, another brunette, hides his laugh behind a red solo cup. 
you turn your head again, making eye contact with the cute guy next to you. you just stare at him for a while, and he holds your gaze the whole time. his right hand, you realize, is tracing circles on your exposed shoulder. the pad of his thumb is calloused and rough against your soft skin, but you like to contrast. you lean into his touch, shifting closer to him on the wooden bench. 
“ouch,” you mumble, lifting up your hand. 
“what’s wrong?” he asks, eyebrows furrowing in concern.
“i think i got a splinter,” you explain, holding up your palm for him to see. 
he inspects your hand, and there’s absolutely nothing there, but replies, “don’t worry. i’ll take you to the infirmary tomorrow.”
you nod, and he kisses your palm, right where the supposed splinter is. his lips are soft, you think, but then why is everyone giggling? you look around, but none of the four people surrounding the two of you provide any sort of explanation. 
“i know. my girlfriend makes me use this lip balm she really likes,” he says, and you’re still confused. 
“huh?” you ask, head tilting. 
“my girlfriend gave me this lip balm. it’s from glossy or something,” he answers, holding up the tube. 
you snatch it from him, looking at the label. even drunk, you know a high quality lip balm when you see one. 
“glossier! i love it there,” you exclaim.
everyone laughs again, even the boy next to you this time. you look at him, a shy smile on your face, as you unscrew the cap. you squeeze the tube, and lift the lip balm to your puckered lips. you rub them together, smacking them a couple times. luke doesn’t take his eyes off you; you don’t take your eyes off him. 
there’s relatively no distance between you two now, but you can’t bring yourself to care. luke doesn’t seem to mind either as he shifts his arm and way that pulls your body even closer to his. the little space that remained is gone, and your thighs are pressed together. you want to be touching him in some way, and lift your left leg to drape over his right one. you nudge his left calf with your converse, gaining his attention. you giggle at that, stifling your laughs with his shoulder. 
“she’s gone,” he observes. 
“oh i know,” katrina answers. 
“you smell so good,” you say, adjusting your head so that your cheek rests against him, and your eyes meet his. 
the two boys, the ones who you can’t recognize at the moment, burst out laughing. your eyebrows furrowed at that, a soft huff escaping you as you cross your arms and lean further into luke. you close your eyes for a minute, basking in his warm presence and the smoky undertones emitting from his shirt. 
“how many drinks have you had?” he asks, large hand rubbing up and down your back. 
“two,” you answer confidently, holding up two fingers. 
katrina scoffs, “try three cups of jungle juice and whatever else at the pregame.” 
“you pregamed?” luke asks, voice low against your ear. 
“mhm. cause what if they didn’t have any drinks i liked?” you reply, holding your hands up in defense. 
he chuckles at your words, humming in agreement as he kisses your forehead. that action, for some reason, registers as oddly intimate in your mind, and so you’re pushing him away. in your drunken state, you can't comprehend that he’s your boyfriend.
“i shouldn’t be doing this. katrina says i have a boyfriend,” you slur, shaking your head. 
“no, you said you have a boyfriend,” katrina replies. 
“well either way!” you yell, throwing your hands up in exasperation. 
“isn’t he your boyfriend?” one of the boys asks, pointing to luke.
“he can’t be. he’s too hot,” you answer confidently. 
everyone laughs at that, except for you and luke. luke’s cheeks are flushed red, but he looks at you with nothing but love and adoration in his eyes. he smiles at you, gently shaking his head in disbelief. 
you shrink back into yourself, slouching down in his arms so that the back of your head rests against his shoulder. luke’s hand fiddles with the hem of your jeans, fingers ghosting over your hips, and you squirm. you shove his hand away, covering your face with your own. 
“what’s wrong?” he asks, bending down so only you can hear him.
“i embarrassed myself,” you whine, peeking at him through a gap in your fingers.
luke chuckles, “it’s okay baby. i still love you.” 
you light up at his words, wrapping your arms around his neck. you pull his face down to yours, smacking kisses all over, only stopping to giggle from pure, unfiltered happiness. normally, you save the affection for the private confines of your cabins, but all of your reservations are out the window at the moment. 
luke smiles brightly at your actions, dimples and everything, as he squeezes your hips three times. it’s your silent code, an unspoken way for the two of you to communicate your love and appreciation for one another, and you smile happily at his use of it. you hug him again, burying your face into the crook of his neck. you can tell that he’s been smoking, and maybe that’s why his eyes are a little red-rimmed. you don’t mind, however, and opt to keep your head resting there. his arms wrap securely around you, cradling your body the way someone would hold a toddler. 
“tired?” he asks, rubbing a hand down your back.
you want to say no, but the giant yawn betrays you. 
“c’mon, i’ll bring you to bed,” he says, patting your thigh to signal for you to get up. 
you agree, holding out your hand for him to take. once your fingers are safely stowed away in his palm, you walk up to katrina. 
“goodnight tree,” you mumble, hugging her tightly. 
“g’night,” she replies, squeezing you just as tight.
with that, you let luke lead you towards the hera cabin as you focus on not tripping over your own feet. you stumble on the stairs, and luke squeezes your waist, holding you steady. he’s your rock, and you don’t know what you’d do without him. 
he opens the door, waiting for you to enter the cabin before following. you look around, and your eyes land on the giant statue taking up a majority of the room. you gasp, hands covering your mouth, as you meet your mother’s cold and calculating stare. 
“i don’t think she should be seeing me like this. can we go to your cabin?” you ask, turning to face luke.
“it’s a statue,” luke deadpans, shaking his head.
“but she’s all knowing,” you reply, pointing to the marble goddess. 
“you’re gonna be fine,” luke explains softly. 
you’re eyes are wide, and you continuously shake your head no. you grab onto luke’s hand, intertwining your fingers together. his hand is rough and worn from all the training he does, a testament to how long he’s been at camp. your mind wanders back to his position as king of the dragons, and you want to ask him if his hands are scarred from the claws of a rival. yet, it doesn’t seem appropriate, so you keep your mouth shut. 
“where’s you toiletry bag?” luke ask, letting go of you hand as he wanders around the cabin. 
“i don’t know,” you answer, following him towards the area you’ve deemed your bed. 
he huffs, standing back from the bed to monitor the situation. his hands are on his hips, eyes scanning the area for your bag with makeup remover, skincare, and other bathroom necessities. you find the pose extremely comical, and laugh. he looks at you over his shoulder, eyebrows furrowed in confusion. 
“what’s so funny?” he asks.
“you look like my dad,” you wheeze. 
he pauses, mouth agape like a fish out of water. he opens and closes his mouth a couple of times, but ultimately comes up empty handed. just when it seems like he’s about to say something, you’re bounding over to your bedside table, grabbing a bag that’s clearly overloaded. 
“found it!” you shout. 
luke cringes at the volume, but takes the bag from your hands without further questioning. he marches over to your closet, the one he helped you set up, and grabs a small towel from one of the shelves. you smile at him. he’s so endearing, you think, how’d i get so lucky?
“let’s go to the bathroom,” he says, tilting his head towards the door of your cabin.
you nod in agreement, taking his outstretched hand. luke smiles at you, allowing you to lead the way, despite your drunken state. he admires your beauty in the moment, although he knows you’d argue you’re anything but. your makeup is messy, your cheeks are flushed from all the alcohol, and your top is falling off your shoulder, yet he still believes that you can rival aphrodite. he shouldn’t think that, he realizes, as she’s one of the only gods he still prays to, but he does. 
the two of you enter the bathroom, and you're surprised by how empty it is. however, the peace and quiet is nice for a usually chaotic space. you decide on a mirror and sink in the middle of the collection, and turn to face luke, waiting for his approval. when he sets the bag down, and removes the towel from his shoulder, you know you’ve made a good choice. 
“alright, let’s take your makeup off,” he says, patting the small of your back. 
you fumble with the zipper of your pouch, trying and failing to get the bag opened. you pout, holding it out to luke, with a pleading look in your eyes. 
“i’ll help you. you want to sit on the counter?” he asks.
you nod, and turn around so your back is towards the sink and mirrors. you brace yourself, ready to test your physical strength in your drunken state. you fail the first attempt, not even making it onto the ledge. luke watches, amusement clear in his eyes, because it’s not like you to ask for help. 
“need a hand?” 
“no i can do it! i’m a demigod,” you answer, as if it’s the most obvious thing in the world. 
he chuckles at your response, but goes back to digging through your bag for the cotton pads and micellar water. he also takes out your face wash, moisturizer, toothbrush, toothpaste, and other skin care items he thinks you might need. 
“luke,” you whisper, tugging on his sleeve. 
he hums in acknowledgment, turning away from the array of products to face you. 
“help?” you ask with a shy smile. 
“i thought you didn’t need it, cause your a demigod,” he teases, crossing his arms. 
you’re drawn to his muscles, flexing against his tee and you’re temporarily left speechless. he’s just so hot, you think. 
“gods i hope my mom answers my prayers,” you blurt out. 
“about what?” 
“us getting married. i really want to. i think…if we were in vegas, i’d drag you down to the chapel,” you reply. 
luke’s mouth drops open in shock, “you think about marrying me?”
“nonstop,” you answer, finally climbing onto the counter. 
he stands there for a minute, unsure of what to say or do. all he knows is that he thinks about getting married to you too. he envisions you, regal as ever, like the true daughter of the queen of the gods, walking towards him down an aisle. it’d be small. you, him, and a handful of close friends, but every single part of it would be meaningful. 
“let’s get you ready for bed,” he says, changing the conversation. 
“okay!” 
it takes him much longer than usual to get you through your bedtime routine, but he doesn’t mind if you don’t. and, you seem pretty content right now. you’re smiling and giggling, making goofy faces at him in the mirror with toothpaste smeared on your chin and a fluffy headband keeping your hair at bay. the whole scene feels oddly domestic, especially when he takes your towel and gently wipes the corners of your mouth. it’s serene. it’s perfect. 
“you’re perfect y’know that?” he asks, looking at you earnestly. 
you flush, turning away from him. 
“stop.”
“‘m not lying! you’re perfect for me,” he whispers, cupping your cheeks. 
you pucker your lips, and luke lays a gentle kiss on them. you burst into giggles, engulfing him in a hug. 
“i want to change. come back to my cabin? please?”
he agrees, following you to the end of the earth. it was an easy request, nothing too extraordinary.
“let me get my pajamas, and then i’ll be right back, okay?” he mumbles, kissing your forehead before leaving you alone with the eternal glow of hera’s flames. 
by the time he gets back, you're standing in one of his tee shirts and a pair of sleep shorts. he’s just wearing a tank top and flannel pants, put he comes up behind you to wrap you in his arms. you away for a minute, dancing to a song only you two can hear. then, you wiggle out of his grasp, climb into bed, and pull the covers up to your chin.
“come lie with me,” you beg, patting the spot next to you.
he wraps you up on his arms, pulling you flush against his chest. once your breaths even out, he sneaks out of the bed, waiting just a second to make sure you don’t wake up. quietly, he pulls the candy out of his pocket — two blue raspberry jolly ranchers.
“please hera, let me marry her. aphrodite, keep her by my side, whatever it takes. please.” 
and for the first time in a long time, luke castellan makes a genuine offering.
taglist: @percabethlvr @iwantahockeyhimbo @hottiewifeyyyy @loveryoushouldcomeoverr @maraschinocherry3 @used2beeeeee @harrysnovia @cami-is-reading @mxtokko @cxcilla @obxstiles
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7ndipity · 2 months
Text
“Are You Confident?”
fwb!Jungkook x Plus Size Reader
Summary: The one where you get fed up with Jungkook’s teasing and decide to take him up on his offer.
Word Count: just under 1.7k
Warnings: +18 mdni, smut. oral(m. receiving), swearing, Jk starts out fuckboy-ish but turns subby, slight dom reader, reader’s referred to as Noona, not proofread
A/N: This idea has been sitting in my drafts since early December, but I finally managed to finish part one! This is sort of a prequel to this drabble, so if you can read it too if you liked this one. I’ll also be posting part two and a masterlist(hopefully)later this week, so lmk what you think!
Masterlist
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If you had to choose a favorite place in the whole world, you would choose Jungkook’s apartment without a thought. Not your own apartment, not you favorite shop, not even the dream vacation you’d been planning and saving up for forever, just being tucked into the corner of Jungkook’s couch, Bam curled up next to you, his massive head resting in your lap, subtly begging for pets as you vented to his owner about your most recent dating fiasco.
The guy one of your friends had set you up with had seemed nice enough at first, but as dinner progressed, things had progressively gone downhill.
“Did he least pay for dinner?” Jungkook asked, sprawled on the opposite end of the couch.
“I’d assume so, I walked out before the bill even came.” You replied, taking a long drink from your glass.
“Why do you even bother with dating anyway? You said before you hated it.” He asked.
“I’ve told you, I’m… lonely.” You said pointedly, avoiding his eyes.
He squinted at you, understanding suddenly flashing across his face.
“Ah, so you just need to get laid?” He asked, sitting back with a smirk as your face flushed with color. “Why didn’t you just say so? I could help you with that.”
“Ugh, shut up.” You groaned, getting up and heading to the kitchen.
“I’m serious.” He said, following you. “It’s better than fucking some random asshole.”
This type of conversation was a recurring thing in your friendship. Jungkook loved to tease you, and with a relationship that had grown as close as yours had, he had plenty of opportunities.
Your friends often joked that the two of you should just date already with the way you acted with each other, often toeing the line between what was typically considered okay for ‘just friends’. You’d slept in the same bed more times than you could count(a fact that had made Taehyung nearly choke on his drink when he’d found out), you’d even kissed at his friend's New Years Eve party after a few too many drinks and a similar conversation to the one you were currently having, lamenting about not having someone to kiss at midnight.
You didn’t know what had possessed you to do it, all you could remember was hearing the countdown and leaning in, connecting your lips with his for the briefest moment, only for him to quickly chase after yours when you had started to pull away.
Neither of you had brought it up afterwards, but the memory of it was permanently seared into your mind; the feel of his lips moving against yours, the way his hands had gently gripped your waist-
You shook your head, redirecting your attention back to the current moment, trying to ignore Jungkook as he leaned against the counter next to you.
“Look, if you don’t want to, that’s totally fine, I’m just offering a possible solution to your problem,” He said, shrugging as he grinned at you. “You know, if you’re really desperate.”
You scoffed. “You’re one to talk. When's the last time you even went on a date again?”
Your words had the desired effect on him, turning his expression sour.
“That’s different, I’ve been… busy.” He said grudgingly.
“Uh-huh, sure.” You grinned triumphantly.
“I mean it though,” He said. “If that’s really all you’re after, I’d be glad to help.”
You blinked at him in disbelief. “Seriously?”
“Yeah,” He shrugged. “I mean, like you said, it’s not like I've got anything going either. It doesn’t have to be a big deal, just two friends helping each other out.”
“That is, if you think you can handle me.” He added with a smirk.
You rolled your eyes, letting out an irritated laugh. “Please, I could handle you.”
“Are you confident?” He asked, quirking a brow at you.
“Yes.” You answered immediately, catching both him and yourself off guard as you stared him down.
Your words weren’t entirely true, you weren’t all that confident when it came to things like this, but Jungkook had a way of triggering your stubborn streak, whether it was with that cocky smile he always threw your way or the domineering tone he like to tease you with, something about him made you suddenly brave and willing to challenge anything he said.
Normally, that was part of what made your friendship fun, the two of you constantly bickering and at odds with each other, but this was much different than arguing over where to get dinner or what to watch on tv.
You were chest to chest now, able to feel his heart pounding surprisingly fast as he stared down at you.
“Prove it.” He said, his tone having lost its teasing edge as his gaze flickered between your eyes and your mouth.
That was all it took to make you break.
You closed the gap between the two of you, pushing him back against the wall as your lips clashed.
This wasn’t at all like the first time you’d kissed, there was no hesitancy or tender playfulness, it was hot and rushed and needy, full of tongue and teeth.
You were aware of a voice in the back of your head frantically screaming at you, something about how this was terrible idea and could ruin things between you and Jungkook completely, but you really couldn’t bring yourself to care as his warm hands found your waist, pulling you flush against him as his tongue fought with yours for dominance. He tasted sharp and sweet like the wine you had brought, his skin hot under your fingertips as your hands slipped from his shoulders to tangle in his hair, tugging lightly at the strands and earning a low grunt from him.
His grip on your hips tightened before sliding down to grope your ass, grinding you against the growing bulge in his pants.
A surprised squeak left you, making him chuckle against your lips as you mentally cursed yourself. You were not about to let him have the upper hand, not this quickly.
You slipped a hand down between you to palm him over his pants, squeezing just enough to cause what sounded very much like a moan to you to release from his throat, though you knew he’d tried to deny it.
Just as suddenly as you’d begun, you pulled away, making his eyes snap open in confusion.
“What are you-?” He panted, stopping in shock as you dropped to your knees in front of him.
“I’m helping you out.” You said simply, undoing his belt as you looked up at him with doe eyes. “Is that okay?”
He nodded, breathing unsteadily.
“I need words, Sweetie.” You said, making him flush at the petname as you fiddled with his zipper. “I can’t give you what you want if you don’t tell me.”
“I want it,” He quickly blurted, giving up control with surprising ease as he stared down at you, eyes black with need. “I-I want your mouth, please.”
“Good boy.” You tugged his jeans down, revealing the prominent tent in his boxers, a small wet patch on the material showing just how eager he was.
“These are cute.” You commented, toying with the waistband before letting it snap back against his skin, making him jump slightly. “Purple looks good on you.”
“Noona, please.” He whined in frustration, his head falling back against the wall as his hips twitched forward involuntarily.
“Fine, since you’re asking so politely.” You pulled his boxers down, letting his cock spring free, hanging heavy in front of your face.
He was slightly bigger than you expected, the tip flushed deep red and leaking precum as you took him in your hand, making him shudder.
“Mm, should’ve known, even your cock’s pretty.” You mused, leaning in to give it a cursory lick, sucking the tip into your mouth for a moment before pulling back, leaving a few kisses along the underside of his length as you glanced up at him to gauge his reaction.
He was staring down at you slack-jawed, his breaths coming out in uneven pants as you pumped him with your hand.
He already looked slightly fucked out and you’d barely done anything to him yet, giving you a massive surge of confidence as you held eye contact with him, gathering as much spit as you could in your mouth before letting it dribble down over his twitching length.
“Fuck.” He muttered under his breath, squiming slightly.
Still holding his gaze, you took him fully into your mouth, sinking down as far as you could go.
“Fuck!” He gasped, his head falling back against the wall with a thump as you pulled back, swirling your tongue around him teasingly before sinking down again, letting him hit the back of your throat and holding him there for a moment before pulling off.
You quickly found your rhythm, bobbing your head up and down on him and using your hands on what wouldn’t fit in your mouth.
He let out a low whine, fists clenched so tight against his thighs his knuckles had gone white.
Noticing this, you used your free hand to guide his to your head, letting him tangle his fingers in your hair and giving him something to ground himself with.
All too soon, you felt him beginning to tense, his grip on your head tightening as his thighs started to shake.
“Fuck, ‘m gonna cum.” He whimpered. “Where do you want me to-?”
You only answer to him taking him and deeper and swallowing around him, making him cry out as his hip bucked forward, fucking your face as he chased his release.
“Shit, Y/n, I-” His words were choked off with a groan as he came, cumming down your throat in hot spurts.
He slumped back against the wall, breathing hard as you slowly pulled off of him, making a point to meet his eyes again as you swallowed.
“Shit, Y/n,” He said weakly as you stood back up. “That was-”
You cut him off with another kiss, feeling him twitch against your leg as he tasted himself on your tongue.
“I’m not done with you yet.”
Taglist: @sopebubbles-replies @btsw1fe @this-must-be-my-tardis @whitefoxgirl @bethanysnow @coffeedepressionsoup @main-bangtansmauyeondan @feminympho @a-gayish-unicorn @dfqcsqueen @ldysmfrst
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harunayuuka2060 · 9 months
Text
MC's stepmother: MC, I told you to clean the bedrooms! What are you still doing there?
MC: Cooking.
MC's stepmother: How dare you answer to me!
MC: 'Cause you're asking.
MC's stepmother: Hmph! Clean the bedrooms! And stop being lazy, you pitiful brat! *walks away*
MC: 'You pitiful brat' *while making a face*
Their father: *walking into the kitchen* *chuckles when he sees them*
Their father: I've heard your mother—
MC: She's not my mother.
Their father: Okay. I've heard my second wife yelling. Don't mind her. She doesn't know any better.
MC: I've got used to it. And I still despise you for marrying again. You should've stayed single.
Their father: Come on. We're not talking about this again.
Their father: Anyway, I have a good news for you. *shows them an invitation letter*
MC: What's that?
Their father: An invitation to enter Night Raven College~! Haha! I knew you would be chosen!
MC: ...
MC: You know I don't have magic.
Their father: You do! It— It hasn't awaken yet, but you do!
MC: I'm 16 years old, Dad! I went to different schools of magic, had undergone trainings to awaken this "magic" which I didn't have.
MC: That invitation must be fake.
Their father: No, it's not! It has the official seal and your name on it!
MC: *looks sternly at him* Did you use your connection?
Their father: *guiltily* No.
MC: Dad—
Their father: You should hurry! The carriage will be arriving any moment! *pushing them out of the kitchen*
MC: How about the food?!
Their father: My second wife will do it! Quick! Quick! Run along! Enjoy your youth!
MC: Seriously?!
Their father: I'm gonna miss you. *sniffles* Don't forget to write!
MC's stepmother: *hands them her credit card* Use that.
MC: I don't need it. I have my own money.
MC's stepmother: Just use it, I'm telling you.
*The carriage has arrived.*
MC's stepmother : That child is claustrophobic. Is it okay if you not ask them to be inside that... *looks creeped out with the "gate"*...thing?
MC: They'll put me to sleep. I won't even know.
MC's stepmother: ...
MC's stepmother: I slipped an axe into your bag.
MC: ...
MC: Are you crazy?
MC's stepmother: What?
Their father: Enjoy your trip! Me and my second wife will be fine here!
MC: *rolls eyes and gets into the gate*
MC: *on their first arrival*
MC: *sigh*
MC: Can I drop on my first day?
Professor Trein: Not possible.
MC: But I don't have magic! And you didn't have to give my dad a refund if that's what you're worried about.
Professor Trein: You might be a late bloomer and we're not giving up on you.
MC: Ugh...
Crowley: Is this our new student? *has approached them*
Professor Trein: Yes.
Crowley: Welcome to Night Raven College. What do you think of our school so far?
MC: Just like any other schools I've been from.
Crowley: *gasped* I don't think I can accept that. Night Raven College is the most prestigious school in all Twisted Wonderland!
MC: There's Royal Sword Academy.
Crowley: They're our rival! *clears throat* We promised to your father that we will awaken your hidden magic. You need to trust us.
MC: You accept nepo-babies. Why would I trust you? *their father is a well-known movie producer*
Crowley: ...
Crowley: Let's go to the Mirror Chamber. Follow me.
MC and Professor Trein: ...
MC: He's not trustworthy.
Professor Trein: I can't disagree with you.
MC: *ends up in Ignihyde*
Idia: ...
MC: ...
Idia: Do you have any questions?
MC: No. I just want to go home.
Idia: Mwehee! Me too. *clears throat* Sorry. No one will bother you in Ignihyde. I can assure you that.
MC: Thanks... I can see that all of you here are minding your own business.
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yesimwriting · 3 months
Note
oh my god yes i'm very much interested in a drabble about my favourite besties kissing as besties do!!!!!!!!
the one that i really can't stop thinking about is the "i trust you more than anyone else" stuff like it's me and you against the world i'm such a sucker for that!! especially since felix is surrounded by people who wanna be close to him all the time and as easy going and open as he seems with anyone, it's of course on an entirely different level with reader
ugh the intimacy of it all makes me melt i love them😭😭
you get the vision!!
also had to start off a little angstier than usual bc the bestie kiss ™️ is only justifiable if both of them are upset enough to be more focused on being close than anything else, y'know
----
The taste lingers. The bitterness infects all it touches, poisoning you from the inside out as you down the drink that some guy pushed into your hand a few minutes ago.
A familiar warning briefly flashes to the front of your mind. Don't take drinks from strangers...especially not drinks that you didn't see them make. One of a hundred safety rules that you usually adhere to.
You've never really under the self destructive urge after drinking thing. Maybe it's just being tired. Maybe it's just this.
You wipe at your eyes with your palm, only remembering the products you had so carefully applied to your skin a few hours ago after the fact.
"Are you--" A familiar voice cuts through the music. You blink once, but it's not enough to force your eyes to adjust, so you try again. After screwing your eyes shut for a second, you can finally make out the person in front of you. Annabel. "You don't look like you're doing too good."
Your irritation has nothing to do with her, and yet seeing her standing there, effortlessly flawless with a slight edge that just fits here, you feel the knot in your stomach tighten. But that's not her fault, so as stabiliy and politely as possible, you answer, "I'm...fine."
She regards you for a moment, eyebrows pinching together in uncertainty. "Why don't we find Felix, yeah?"
Why does everyone always assume that Felix is the solution to all of your problems? "I'm okay," you try again, voice a little more certain, "really."
Annabel still doesn't seem too convinced. She turns her head, scanning the crowded room. It doesn't take long for her to find Felix. It never does.
He's sitting on a loveseat that's been pushed towards the edge of the room. A few people are standing around him, a girl is sitting on the chair's arm, her legs swung over his lap.
"And he seems..." You force your face to remain neutral as your eyes finally land on him. "Busy."
Annabel looks back at you, her lips pressing together. Her expression only adds to your unease. "He wouldn't mind. It's you."
You shake your head, the motion adding to your slight nausea. Usually, you wouldn't think twice about sticking by Felix's side. Especially in this kind of setting, but after the words the two of you exchanged earlier, everything feels off its axis.
You're not used to fighting with Felix. It's such a foreign concept that the strange tension that had you walking away from him earlier probably doesn't even constitute an actual argument. But it's enough to make you feel out of place.
Swallowing once, you force yourself to focus on Annabel. "I think I just need some air." Annabel's still regarding you with uncertainty. "I'll be back in a minute, and if I feel sick or anything, I'll go get Felix." She doesn't move until someone calls her name. "Go. Have fun. I'll see you."
Annabel nods once, giving you a polite smile before leaving.
The door is near where Felix is sitting, which means there's no leaving without walking past him. There's enough of a crowd around him that him not noticing is a likely option, so you feel safe crossing the room.
You push your way through the room, eyes trained on the ground to help your balance. It's also a good excuse to not look at Felix as you reach the door.
There are stragglers--a group of girls chatting and giggling in front of the door, some guys doing shots, a girl in the middle of a phone call that looks painful.
You walk around the side of the house until you find an empty section of the sidewalk. The party feels far away here, even though the only thing dividing you is a few cars, a mailbox, and a streetlight. You sit and let yourself pretend that the bit of distance you've managed to create means something.
You could actually leave. Sure, this is a slightly off campus house party, but it's only a few blocks away from the street that'll take you to your dorm. You did walk here, but that was when you were focused, sober, and you had Felix with you.
But that's--you brought cash. You think. Maybe you should call a cab. It's not the worst idea. You drop your attention to the ground, instinctually searching for your purse.
Ugh. Your purse. Felix. You gave it to Felix.
Okay, you're still an independent person. This is probably for the best. It's never a good idea to leave a party without at least telling the person you came with, and this way it won't be a big deal. You'll ask for your purse so that you can call a cab. He probably won't even care.
You just need a minute to get it together. Then you'll be able to go back in, tap Felix on his shoulder, and get your purse. He won't even have to get that girl off his lap.
It is such a double standard. Felix completely forgetting about you is perfectly fine, but you talk to one person that isn't more Felix's friend than yours at one of these things and that must mean you're trying to replace him as a best friend.
Maybe you've been deluding yourself, convincing yourself that your friendship means more than it actually does. The thought makes it hard to breathe right.
"It's cold out."
Your palms press into asphalt as you snap your head to find the source of the sound. Felix. A lump wedges itself in your throat. "I'm fine." He takes a step forward. "I just wanted some air."
You turn your head, forcing yourself to stare ahead. Soft footsteps, the crunching of asphalt echoes, somehow sharper than the music coming from the house. Felix sits.
He's farther than he usually is.
You lift your hands, taking your time brushing your fingers against your palms to get rid of the debris that indented itself into your skin. "You um--you have my purse, right?" You fold your hands against your lap. "I need my phone. I--I need to call a taxi."
"What?" His voice doesn't come out angry, but there's a flatness there that burrows deep into the pit of your stomach. It almost feels disappointed. "Why?"
You squeeze your hands together, "I want to go home." You still can't look at him. "I want to go back to my room." Your voice starts to crack on the last word. Nails instinctually dig into your knee.
Felix sighs, angling himself towards you, "You don't have to do that." His voice is soft, cautious. "If you want to leave, I'll take you."
"No," you shake your head once, attention still focused forward to keep him from noticing the fact that your eyes are now watering. All of this feels so dumb, so small. Why are you almost crying? "It's okay, you're having fun, I can get back by myself."
He lets out another breath, moving his arm so that his hand sits between both of you. "You're drunk."
"So are you."
A beat of silence that feels like an attempt at admitting that he's more than just drunk. You saw Tyler--or Trevor, or maybe Timothy--wandering the halls. Some guy whose name you can never remember because he only shows up at the end of nights, when you're too out of it to do much more than just be happy. He's known for carrying--and sharing--harder stuff.
Not that you'd know. There's nowhere that Felix won't take you, nothing that he keeps from you. That's part of the beauty of your friendship, the lack of judgement. But Felix isn't fond of you participating in everything all the time.
If you ever show interest in anything on a night that Felix isn't feeling too sure about, he'll offer to get you whatever you want later, when it's just the two of you. Maybe you'd mind his concern if you cared about getting high more.
You can feel Felix's stare, the weight of his full attention. "You don't actually think I'm going to let you go anywhere alone, after drinking, in the middle of the night."
There's a patience there that makes it hard to sit still. You turn your head, finally looking at him, "I'm fine. I can--" You cut yourself off with a slight sniffle.
You wipe at your face with the side of your palm. Felix's eyebrows are pinched together. You don't know what to make of the way he's watching you. Felix lifts his hand, fingers finding their way against your jaw before you can move. "You're upset."
Pressing your lips together, you try to force yourself to look as neutral as possible. "I'm fine." He doesn't move. "You should go back to your party, Felix."
"The party?" His expression briefly contorts in confusion. "I don't care about the party." Your vision is starting to blur. "There are other parties. You're crying." Felix shifts his hand up your face, his thumb brushing against the apple of your cheek.
You try to take a stabilizing breath, "It's not a big deal." You will yourself to move, to rely on him less. "I don't think I'm going to be any fun tonight, you should go, and I--I'll talk you tomorrow."
He frowns. "You don't have to be any fun." Felix shouldn't have to coddle you. Embarrassment and guilt further knot your stomach. "If you want to sit here, we can sit here. If you want to go inside, we can go inside. If you want to go home, we'll go home."
"Earlier," you manage, focusing on keeping your voice as even as possible, "When we--" Tears pool in your eyes, something at the back of your throat constricts. "I didn't--I don't know--"
You're not making sense, forcing out fragments of thoughts that don't work together. Felix seems to understand anyway, his thumb grazing against your cheek. "We don't have to talk about that now." You nod slowly. "If you still want to go home, let me take you."
You attempt a full breath, "But what ab--"
He tilts his head in a way that makes it feel like he's telling you a secret, "If you ask about the party again, I'm calling you delusional."
You roll your eyes. It's a relatively lame threat, but it serves its purpose. The corner of your mouth tugs itself upwards, your lips pressed together to hold in a partial laugh. "Okay."
Felix's hand slips from the side of your face and finds a new place against your shoulder. "Yeah? Let's go then."
He stands first and then extends an arm to help you. His stability makes it easier.
There is no laughter or pausing on sidewalks to try to hold onto each other. The two of you are quiet, but Felix does keep your fingers intertwined the entire way back to his dorm.
You don't think to question where he's taking you until you're in his room. "Felix." The walk had been good for you, the fresh air and time to gather your thoughts providing enough of a reprieve for you to get it together. "I want to go to sleep."
"Yeah," he mumbles, "I know, I'll get you your favorite shirt."
Your eyes focus on the ground. "I think I should sleep in my room tonight."
Felix sighs, turning away from the door. "You're trying to leave again."
The accusation only half makes sense, but there's a quietness to his voice that gets to you. All the nervous, alcohol fueled energy is coming back with a vengeance. "When have I ever left you?"
Felix scoffs, the sound bitter. "You left me tonight." If his voice was any less raspy, any less urging, you likely would have laughed. He's the one that got mad at you. "You just--you walked away from me. Like I didn't even matter to you."
The a thinly veiled sadness there that almost feels nervous. He can't meet your gaze. The pride encouraging you to stand still bleeds from you. Without its heat, its fire, there's not much keeping you stable.
You move forward, footsteps cautious. "Felix." You stretch a hand forward, fingers brushing against his forearm. He doesn't move. "Of course you matter to me. So much." Your fingers bend around his wrist. "You're my best friend."
He turns his arm. Your body tenses, preparing for his rejection. Felix's hand squeezes yours. There's a tension in his hold, but you embrace it all the same. "You walked away from me."
You take another step towards him, freehand finding his arm. "That's why." He sets a hand against you waist. The contact is firm, unforgiving. There's still hurt, but the only thing more unthinkable than holding on is letting go. "What you say means so much to me, because you're my best friend." His fingers press into your side. "And you were upset--and there were so many people--" Tears prick the corner of your eyes. "And I couldn't do that there."
"No." He squeezes your hand. "No, don't--don't cry, we're okay." As if to prove his point, Felix pulls you closer. The movement's too sudden for you to keep your balance on your own. You tighten your hold on Felix's arm. "Still my best girl, yeah?"
This is nowhere near the closest you've ever been to him. He has a hand on your hip, but that's far from the touchiest he's ever been. It shouldn't--he shouldn't be this distracting. It takes you a second too long to remember to nod.
He angles his head downwards, his cheek finding a place against your shoulder. Felix's breath is warm against your neck. "Wouldn't leave me."
You nod, moving your hand to rest against his back. Felix relaxes against you. It's not easy to stay stable with the alcohol still in your system and Felix's weight on you, but you manage.
"No." You mean it so much it almost hurts to get out. You'd never walk away from him. There's nothing like your bond with Felix. You could talk to him, be around him forever without feeling drained. "Of course not."
Felix turns his head, brushing his lips against your neck. "Stay over, then?" The question is soft, fragile. It'd be smart to create distance. If tonight's proven anything, it's that you're too attached to him. "Please?"
You smooth your knuckles against his spine. "Okay." He presses a kiss against your shoulder. "Yeah. I'll stay."
He hugs you even tighter. "No more tears, alright?"
You squeeze him back. "Alright."
For awhile, the two of you stay like that. There's nothing left to say, and that still manages to be comfortable. Silence is never uncomfortable with Felix.
He eventually shifts to place a kiss against the side of your neck. "We should get ready for bed."
You hum once in agreement. Neither of you move. Things are simple when you factor out the rest of the world. Things are easy when it's just you and Felix.
An overwhelming wave of fondness brings you back. As gently as possible, you start the process of untangling limbs. Felix pouts at you, expression drowsier than before.
Your fingers carefully brush his hair out of his face. "I need to change."
Felix fully straightens. His hand finds the back of your head. He pulls you towards him, pressing a kiss against your forehead. "Okay."
He lets go of you before walking towards his dresser. Felix opens the top drawer and finds your usual sleep shirt. You take it before entering his bathroom.
Going out outfits are cute, but there's something about the moment you get home that immediately forces every ounce of discomfort to hit all at once. You shed the restrictive layers before pulling Felix's T-shirt over your head.
You swear there's some kind of rich guy secret to keeping clothes this soft. A combination of fabric, fancy detergent, and some third thing that's reserved for those in the know.
You turn on the sink, ready to wash what's left of the night off of your face. Felix has never gotten rid of or moved anything you've left in here. What's left of your buzz has you more emotional than usual, making the evidence of your life in his space heavier than it should be.
The feeling is good and bad all at once. Your attachment to Felix is the kind of thing that can only come from fully understanding someone. But there's an inherent danger in knowing someone like that, carrying about them like that. Especially Felix, who has everyone so he doesn't need anyone.
You splash some more water onto your face, attempting to shake off any lingering angst. You don't want to dissect your friendship until it eventually falls apart into nothingness.
When you finally step back into his room, Felix is sitting on his bed, back pressed against the wall. He's managed to change into pajama pants, but seems to be struggling with everything else. His shirt's half unbuttoned, and his fingers are actively working at undoing the rest of them. Felix's movements are slow and clumsy as he tugs on the fabric.
Wow. Maybe you were right to think he was high. "Hey." He looks up at you, hands still attempting to pull apart his shirt. There's something endearing about the clumsiness. He drops his head back down to refocus."Do you--uh--do you need help?"
He angles his head to one side, a smile playing at his lips. "Are you asking to undress me?"
Heat burns through your chest, leaving you hollow. You approach his dresser, leaving your neatly folded outfit on the wooden surface. "Figure out your own shirt."
"No," his sigh is light, almost a laugh, "'M kidding." Your glare only seems to add to his easygoing mood. He smiles, dropping a hand to pat the space next to him. "Come here."
You give in with a sigh, crossing the room and sitting at the foot of his bed. He reaches forward, briefly squeezing your shoulder before returning to work on his shirt. It's hard to watch him stumble through undoing a single button, just to have to start the process all over again.
You pull your legs onto the bed, turning to fully face him. Your knee is pressed against his thigh.
"Lovie," he hums, as if your presence is some kind of revelation.
"Felix." He grins, hands releasing his shirt in favor of trying to grasp your arm. "Wait--" His fingers wrap around your wrist. "I'm--trying--" He pulls your hand towards him, placing a kiss against your knuckles. You laugh. "I'm trying to help you."
He tugs on your arm. His pull isn't harsh, but the unexpectedness of it paired with your buzz makes it enough to throw off your balance. Your freehand presses against the mattress in an attempt to stabilize yourself. Felix laughs, tugging on you again.
Fighting your own fit of giggles, you instinctually push yourself onto your knees in an attempt to regain some control. Felix gives you a second to find your footing. You gently pull his hand off of your forearm and set it on his lap. He frowns.
You extend your arms, placing your hands on his shoulders. Part of the reason for it is to help keep you stable, the rest of it is to keep him focused. He looks up at you, eyes pools of hesitant affection. "Stay still."
He lets you reach for his shirt. "Y'don't have to, I'm okay."
Shrugging, you continue to work at unclasping his buttons. "It's okay, I like helping you."
You unbutton the few buttons that are left. "Better?" Felix nods. "I'll get you a pajama shirt."
Before you can get far, Felix grabs your hand. "We're..." He focuses on bending and straightening your fingers. "Good, right?"
There's something soft about the question, almost shy. "Yeah." He turns over your palm, tracing the lines etched into your skin. "Of course we're good." You adjust, crossing your legs beneath you to sit down.
"Honestly, I was thinking about it, and part of the reason I was upset is because..." This is harder to admit than you thought it'd be. "You seemed really okay without me, and that--I don't know. It's dumb, because I really do want you to be happy, but it made me feel a little replaceable, I guess."
"What?"
You sigh, dropping your attention to your intertwined hands. "I know, I said it was dumb." You pause, eyes darting up to look at him. His expression isn't judgmental or like he needs space. You can't fully read his expression, but nothing about the way he's looking at you feels unkind. "I only mentioned it to be honest, I don't like the idea of keeping se--"
He pulls on your arm again, this time his hold a little firmer. You're closer now. Felix's other hand finds your hip, anchoring you in place. You're too confused to do anything but blink at him.
Felix lets go of your arm, fingers finding their way beneath your chin. He angles your head so that all of your attention is on him. Your lips part, a half thought out question is on the tip of your tongue when Felix leans towards you. His lips meet yours.
You're still, shock and something a lot more electric rendering you in capable of anything else. This isn't the first time Felix has pressed his lips against yours. He's affectionate, especially when drinking is involved. He'll brush his lips against yours after taking a shot together, or just because at the end of a long night. It's not an everyday thing, but it's happened from time to time.
This--this isn't that. He's lingering, lips parting so that his teeth can graze against your bottom lip. Felix pulls away just enough to look you in the eye. His thumb brushes across your cheek.
"You're my best friend." Felix's words are so urging, so pleading you nod before you can think. "Best mate. You're the--the only one that gets me. Really gets me." His hand moves to the back of your head, pulling you back to him.
Any sense of hesitance vanishes the second time he kisses you. He's all consuming, lips dragging against yours with a desperate patience that's dizzying. It's disorientating, the desire to be that much closer to someone when there's no way to get there.
Felix's hand finds your back. He pushes you towards him. There's no good way to oblige. You try anyway, shifting your weight back onto your knees. Felix pulls you forward by your waist. You're too focused on him to realize what's happening until you're on his lap.
He takes his time letting you go, teeth tugging on your bottom lip. "I trust you more than anyone." Felix leans back in, placing a quick kiss against your lips. "You're not replaceable." He squeezes your shoulder. "You know that, right?"
Still breathless, you nod. He's watching you with so much patience, so much care it's almost hard to bare.
His thumb smooths circles against your shoulder. "Let's go to bed, yeah?"
You lift his hand off your thigh to press a kiss against the back of his palm. "Yeah, lets go to bed."
He squeezes your shoulder once before letting you go. You move off of his lap carefully.
Felix sits up enough to push his shirt off of his shoulders. Your eyes instinctually fall to his sheets. "Do you want me to get you a shirt?"
"Why? Distracted?"
You roll your eyes in an attempt to the fact that you are struggling to look at him. "Shut up."
He grins as he pulls back his sheets. "M'okay." You take the opportunity to slip beneath the layers of fabric. Felix waits until you're settled to crawl beneath the sheets. "It's warm enough, even with you stealing my blankets."
"I do not," the sentence is more of a mock gasp than anything else. Felix shifts onto his side before collapsing his weight on you. "Felix."
"What?" He rests his cheek against your chest. "This is the only way to keep you from taking my sheets."
You sigh, feigning annoyance as your fingers find his hair. "Rude. I'm a great bed sharer."
Felix lets out a partial laugh against the side of your neck. His hand finds your hip. "You are pretty great."
Your hand trails down towards his back, nails grazing against the bare skin. "You are, too."
Silence stretches between the two of you for so long you assume that he's already fallen asleep. Felix has a talent for drifting off in the blink of an eye.
"Lovie?" He whispers the term so lowly you almost convince yourself the sound is a figment of your imagination.
"Yeah?"
You can feel the shift in his breathing. "It's you and me--just you and me, when it comes down to it." His thumb brushes up and down your side. "You know that."
He relaxes as your fingers trail down the start of his spine. "Yeah. Of course I know that." A part of you feels naive for believing his words so easily. He's too adored to just be your Felix at the end of the day, and yet-- "Just you and me."
Felix leaves an open mouthed kiss against collarbone. It's the kind of warm that leaves goosebumps breaking out everywhere the contact can't be felt. "Good."
----
taglist; @vader-is-hot @spiritofbuddha @getosangie @freyafriggafrey @ilovehyperfixating @aryiannarae @willowpains @ker0senebunny
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ifimdreaming · 2 months
Text
i don’t deserve you
//
Luke Hughes x Reader
authors note: i wrote this super quick and also on my phone so idk the word count or if this even makes sense because it is unedited lmaooo but I hope you enjoy it!
-
You had just hopped out of the shower and were putting on uour leggings and one of lukes hoodies to wear for the day.
You hadnt really been wearing anything besides for lukes hoodies when you have a day at home since you two started dating so honestly it was nothing new.
Going back to your room after cleaning up the rest of your stuff in the bathroom, you remembered you forgot to text Luke back last night. he always gets on you about that but you always forget how worried he gets when you don’t reply to his calls or texts.
And when you head to look at your phone that’s plugged into the charger on your bedside table, you see many missed notifications from your worried boyfriend.
(4 missed called from: Lukey @ 10:37am)
Lukey: hey you said you’d call me at 10?
Lukey: call me back pls
it was now nearing 12:00pm and you knew he would be more than a little bit pissed off that you weren’t answering him.
and you felt terrible about forgetting so you unplug your phone and called him back right away, sat on your bed with a towel around yojr hair as the phone rings in suspense.
“baby? ...let me guess? you forgot to check your phone again?..” he quickly says as you are getting more comfortable on the bed, relieved he had answered your call.
You just hum in response as he pours out his concern to you, knowing that all he’s saying is true.
“i’m so so sorry. i completely forgot. i know you’re looking out for me but i fell asleep without texting and i literally just got out of the shower.” You say and hear him sigh at your words.
“Luke i promise i’ll try to keep my phone close by cuz i know you worry...but i’m fine i promise” you say apologetically .
“i didn’t get murdered or anything..” you add jokingly but quickly follow up with an “i’m kidding...” before luke gets a chance to be a smart ass and tell you not to joke about that.
You laugh a little hearing him sigh with an unamused tone in his voice.
“anyway, how are you?” You ask trying to move on from the subject knowing he is already annoyed about you not answering his calls.
“i really miss you...” he sighs out and you hear the little bit of sadness in his voice and instantly feel exactly how he’s feeling.
“i miss you more bubs...trust me time will fly by way faster than you know it…we’ll see each other soon..i promise.” You reassure him, not trying to sound too cheesy but also trying to lift his spirits somewhat.
it’s been over 2 months since you’ve seen each other last. School has picked up and made it impossible to be able to visit him in jersey, even just for a weekend.
You were starting to forget a time where it actually was easy to see each other.
And you were getting so used to late night phone calls to one another, and luke sending you random long ass text messages about how much he misses you at random hours of the night. and you being so fed up with everything that you cave and just call him even when you know he’s busy or at practice, because you miss hearing his voice so much.
“it’s just been so long since i’ve seen your face. ugh i hate this shit so much. i’m just... so fucking over it.” Luke continues pouring out and his words are laced with a bit of anger, causing his voice to have a scratchy and dark quality.
he’s clearly getting more and more frustrated about the current situation the longer it goes on and you know he’s getting irritated with only being able to talk on the phone and over facetime. we both are.
“Luke i understand... i miss you and i love you so much. And look, i know you’re upset but there’s really not much we can do about it right now is there?” You say before luke interrupts you with a loud sigh.
“hey what can i do though? huh? ...how can i help you feel better?” You ask with as much reassurance in your voice as possible, trying hard to keep your voice high and uplifting even though youre feeling just as down and unhappy as he is right now.
he doesn’t answer and you are sat in silence for too long to still be expecting him to answer your question.
“what’s on your mind? Will u just talk to me?” You ask innocently.
“ugh. fuck! i don’t know! nothing i guess.” Luke sighs out, raising his voice and catching you off guard.
“i’m just trying to help … can you calm down a little..” you say quietly because you know he was probably wound up about a lot of stuff on his mind and you can tell that he is putting his anger in the wrong places.
“you don’t need to tell me to calm down...there’s nothing you can do ok? it’s fucking awful. i hate this...fuck..” he spits out at me. “can we just talk about something else?” he asks with his voice still raised.
“look, im not trying to force you to talk to me if you don’t want to but you called me and clearly something is on your mind..whether it’s the fact that we can’t be together right now or something else but you can’t just get angry with me for no reason.” You say sternly and hear him about to say something more but you interrupt him “just please lower your voice...” you add.
“i’m not getting angry. i’m just really fucking annoyed and you’re not helping” he says exasperatedly and you are taken by surprise with his words and a little pissed off that he’s taking out whatever he is angry about at you.
You stay silent on the other end of the phone as his words instantly put tears into yohr eyes and you don’t say anything because he is being so unnecessarily rude to you.
“i’m sorry, i’m just having a really fucking bad day...” he adds and you hold your breath trying to not make your shaky breathing noticeable as he keep talking.
You begin to feel the tears slowly start to stream down your face but you quickly blink them away knowing he’s only mad about the situation and not worth yours tears. but his words made you feel so so hurt.
there’s silence between the both of you for a few seconds as you try to get yourself together and acknowledge that he hurt you.
“Ok. Im not gonna sit here and listen to you complain about something that i literally cannot fix or change right now. i’m sorry you’re feeling upset and angry with what’s going on but you can’t just call me and take all your fucking anger out on me. it’s just not fair. i really miss you too ok? ...i’m sorry we can’t be together right now but i can’t do anything to help if you’re not going to tell me what’s actually wrong...just...call me back when you calm down a little” you say trying your hardest to not raise your voice and lash out exactly like he just did to you.
he’s quiet on the other side of the phone and you hear him about to reply as you hang up the phone before he has the chance to respond, knowing you are probably not going to like or want to hear what he has to say to you at this moment anyway.
this isn’t the first conversation that’s went like this recently. this past week luke has been getting more and more pissed off and angry rather than just upset about you not being able to see each other right now and it’s not doing you any good.
Youve been trying your hardest to just hear him out and be there for him but today’s conversation was different, usually you share a mutual sadness about not being able to see each other and talk about all the things you miss and then it cheers you both up hearing all the fun things you can do together once exams and the hockey season ends.
but today luke wouldn’t even tell you what was bothering him without getting mad and it didn’t help that he was putting his anger towards you.
Feeling really frustrated about that conversation, you plug your phone back into the charger and start to feel a slight sinking in your stomach.
You hated the fact that you just hung up on him and didn’t resolve your discussion. And you knkw it was his fault for getting angry at you but can’t help but feel a little guilty for just hanging up the phone without saying goodbye.
to get your mind off of it for a while you start tidying up your room and play some music to drown out the silence.
Now it’s almost nearing 2pm and luke hasn’t called back or even texted and it’s been almost an hour.
You begin to get more and more pissed off that he hasn’t said anything and consider just sending him a text but you remember the things he said to you . so you ignore the feeling and continue waiting for him to call you back.
-
After deciding to lay down and read a book to distract yourself, you accidentally fell asleep for a few hours. Waking up to see that it’s around 6pm...you definitely slept longer than you should have.
Surprisingly, you see that luke tried calling back and left a few texts as well.
Lukey: hi
Lukey: i’m really sorry about earlier
Lukey: can you call me back please? i need to apologize...i didn’t mean to get upset at you. i know none of this is your fault
Lukey: please call me back
You decide not to answer him right away and start making yourself some mac and cheese and sitting at the dining room table waiting as you wait for the water to boil.
You were beginning to get so impatient. Impatient with everything, but especially with luke. You wanted him to call you again. Do something, say something. Try harder.
Your thoughts were spiraling and you knew calling him back was really the only way to stop them.
After finishing making and eating your dinner you sit down at the couch to finally call luke back. at this point your stupid argument definitely didn’t feel worth all this and you felt a little guilty for ignoring him all day long.
You ultimately decide to facetime him so you can see his face and he answers you on the second ring.
immediately you see him laying down in his bed wearing no shirt and his wet hair hanging down his face on one side and his face slightly smushed against his pillow.
he smiles at you knowingly and waits for you to say something so that he knows if i’m still angry at him or not.
“why are you staring at me?” You blush a little, ignoring your anger for a moment. he just smiles back at you with his pretty little face and completely ignores the question.
Luke sees you awkward laugh a little feeling a bit insecure with the way he’s staring at you, but he continues. and he laughs lightly as he sits up and turns the light on so that you can see him better.
“i’m really really sorry baby...” he starts “i’m sorry for getting upset at you. I shouldn’t have done that. i was just so fed up and tired of not being able to see you and i let my feelings get the best of me, i also was just having a really shitty day. Practice fucking sucked today and you already know how shitty our game has been lately.” He says with honest sincerity and regret in his voice.
“i took my anger out at you which i should not have done...and im really not trying to make any excuses because I know i hurt you. And i promise i won’t get mad at you about this ever again, especially since you did absolutely nothing wrong...” he spills out apologetically.
You say nothing at first and just wait for him to continue his apology. making it clear to him that he was completely out of hand and you are not gonna put up with his bitchy attitude. And he continues,
“... to be honest i’ve been feeling like you don’t miss me as much as i miss you which sounds stupid but i just got so angry because i didn’t understand. When you forget to call or text i just…i take it hard..” he says trailing off at the end.
“what? luke i’ve been trying so hard to keep it together for you because i know how upset this makes you. trust me when i tell you i miss you more than anything...i suck at remembering things like texting goodnight and stuff because I’ve just been so exhausted with work and school. You’re on my mind all the time and i promise you that i will try harder to not forget those things.” you quickly reply, making sure he understands just how much you mean it.
“i love you so much.” You add and smile at him as uou see his small smile on your phone screen.
“i love you too baby. i’m so sorry for getting mad..” he says quietly and puts his head down a little.
“it’s ok...i understand your frustration.” You add with a little laugh letting him know you’re over it.
“i saw your instagram story..” you change the subject and he smiles at you with his face getting a bit red.
“You posted us?” You say knowingly as he smirks at you and runs his hands through his hair.
Luke had posted a slightly blurry photo of the two of you on the boat last summer saying he misses both the summer and you. It made you melt to see him gush about you, especially because he was typically such a private person.
“You are so cute..” you say honestly. and youstart to laugh a little remembering that night on the boat together and how it was the night luke asked you to be his girlfriend.
Luke wasnt always the most romantic person but he put so much thought into that night, his words, every little thing he planned he put so much care into and it was such a beautiful moment.
You would never forget it.
“im glad you saw it. i wanted to show you how much you mean to me..and how sorry i was.” he chuckles and it makes you softly laugh, knowing the world would have no idea that post was technically an apology to you.
“will you stay on FaceTime with me tonight? i miss falling asleep with you…” you ask politely and luke nods his head and smiles at you.
“of course...” he replies.
“i’m glad you’re not mad at me anymore baby” He says quietly.
“I could never stay mad at you..” you say knowing how true of a statement it honestly was.
“...and I don’t deserve you” luke says almost in a whisper, seemingly more to himself as opposed to you
-
-
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mattslolita · 1 month
Text
psycho killer - c. sturniolo ( 001. )
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in which ... a killer is terrorizing the town of boston and charmaine soon realizes she's the final girl in his twisted game.
ghostface!chris x black!fem oc
warnings ; blood , gore , death , eventual smut , angst , ghostface!chris , final girl! oc
"𝒅𝒐𝒏'𝒕 𝒕𝒐𝒖𝒄𝒉 𝒎𝒆, 𝒊'𝒎 𝒂 𝒓𝒆𝒂𝒍 𝒍𝒊𝒗𝒆 𝒘𝒊𝒓𝒆!"
˗ˏˋ ꒰ ♡ ꒱ ˎˊ˗˗ˏˋ ꒰ ♡ ꒱ ˎˊ˗˗ˏˋ ꒰ ♡ ꒱ ˎˊ˗˗ˏˋ ꒰ ♡ ꒱ ˎˊ˗˗ˏˋ ꒰ ♡ ꒱ ˎˊ˗˗ˏˋ ꒰ ♡ ꒱ ˎˊ˗˗ˏˋ ꒰
in the comfort of charmaine's home, she sat on one of the bar stools at the end of the small kitchen table — her best friends, morgan maldonado and madison filipowicz were both with her, but occupied with separate things; morgan was on the phone with who charmaine assumed was her boyfriend ( unless she felt like cheating on him ), and madison was busy making popcorn for the film they were going to watch.
"hey char, what happened to that cheesy popcorn you always have?" madison asked, as she searched the girl's fridge, "there's like, none left."
"i'm gonna be honest madi, i ate it all," charmaine shrugged, as she scrolled through her phone.
madison shook her head, and went back to the fridge, biting down on one nail as she continued searching. charmaine looked over at morgan, who was sprawled out on her couch, twirling her dark hair around her fingers, her face painted with a rosy tint and a smirk plastered on her face. the evans girl frowned, wondering who it was that she was even talking to.
"wow, chris is making you blush that hard?" charmaine teased quietly, and morgan rolled her eyes, waving her off.
"this isn't even chris, girl," morgan whispered to her friend with an eyeroll, "he doesn't really make me blush like this anymore, anyway."
charmaine nodded, but her jaw clenched at the thought of morgan cheating on chris — christopher sturniolo was morgan's boyfriend, who also happened to be charmaine and madison's best friend, too. he had two identical brothers aside from himself, and they were both best friends with the triplet brothers. charmaine has liked chris for as long as she can remember, and it always puzzled her as to how he chose morgan over her. of course, chris never knew this, and she didn't plan on telling him — it was something bound to break up their friendship ( though charmaine knew the triplets longer ).
the smell of butter wafted through charmaine's senses, telling her that madison had put the popcorn in the microwave. the filipowicz girl came and sat down on the counter next to charmaine, a small grin settling on her face. "which horror movie are we watching tonight?"
charmaine grinned back, having always loved that she and madison loved horror movies. "oh, it's definitely a friday the 13th kinda night."
"ugh, we always watch that one," morgan whined suddenly, as she sauntered into the kitchen, her arms crossed, "can we watch the craft or something?"
"can you stop being a hoe and sleeping with every guy who gives you attention?" charmaine sneered, causing madison to snort and hold back a laugh, and morgan to give her an unimpressed look.
"you say that like it's a bad thing," morgan suddenly grinned, causing charmaine to roll her eyes and shake her head, "it's not my fault i'm sex positive!"
"whatever you wanna call yourself, morgan," madison giggled, causing charmaine to stick her tongue out at morgan playfully.
"whatever, friday the 13th is it," morgan sighed, resting her elbows on the counter, "let's play something while we wait for the food."
"what're you thinking?" charmaine questioned, setting her phone on the counter and facing her best friend.
"truth or dare."
morgan grinned, and madison and charmaine shared a knowing look. "girl, is this an excuse for you to just tell madi to make a move with that one girl already?"
madison's cheeks tinted, and she rolled her eyes. "that's not happening, by the way!"
"ugh, fine!" morgan grunted, but she sent madison a pointed look, "you don't even have to pick dare if you don't want to!"
"whatever, let's just play," charmaine said, waving both girls off, "m, truth or dare?"
morgan pretended to tap her chin in thought, then she smirked at charmaine. "dare."
"i dare you to call that one strip joint and pretend you wanna get hired there."
madison's eyes widened and morgan's jaw dropped, causing charmaine to burst out laughing. "what the actual fuck kinda dare is that?"
"it's a good one, don't lie!" madison grinned, pointing to morgan. 
"fine, whatever, i'll do it," morgan said with an eyeroll.
before she could make a move to grab the phone though, it began ringing — the three best friends exchanged a glance with each other, before morgan shrugged and moved towards it. "this doesn't count as your dare by the way!"
"it's probably just steven again," morgan grinned, as she picked up the landline, bringing it up to her ear, "hello?"
madison sat on the counter idly, and charmaine scrolled through her own phone as morgan talked to whoever it was she was talking to ( charmaine wouldn't be surprised if it was another one of her side pieces ). but from the way morgan's eyebrows furrowed, something was off.
"who is it?" charmaine mouthed her, madison raising her eyebrows expectantly.
"i don't even know," morgan mumbled, holding the phone away from her momentarily, "it's just fucking silence."
"here, let me see," madison said, hopping off the counter and going to grab the phone from morgan, "hello?"
but madison was met with silence as well, causing all three girls to share a look with each other. finally, charmaine shrugged and walked over to the phone, taking it from madison and holding it up to her ear. "hello?"
"hello? who's this?"
charmaine's eyes widened, causing morgan and madison to watch closely. "who're you tryna get to?"
"i don't know," the voice said, and charmaine felt a chill down her spine. it sounded much too deep to be normal, but something about it was highly attractive.
"well, you better figure it out," charmaine said, "bye have a good night."
"wait, don't hang up!" the voice said, and for some reason, charmaine's eyebrows rose and she didn't, "i wanna talk to you."
"yeah, they got like, five hundred numbers for shit like that," charmaine said, shaking her head, "see ya."
charmaine hung the phone before they had a chance to reply again, and both girls looked at her curiously. "so who was it?"
"i don't even know, some weirdo saying they wanted to talk to me," charmaine shrugged, and morgan grinned at the girl.
"well it's about time somebody wants to talk to you," morgan snickered, "you need to get a man."
"morgan, shut the fuck up," madison said, crinkling her nose and slapping the girl's shoulder, "she doesn't need to get anyone. just because you fucked half the school behind chris's back, doesn't mean everyone wants to do that same thing."
morgan's jaw dropped at what madison had said — truth was, morgan was always knocking charmaine for not wanting to just get with anybody randomly. she would take a dig at her about that stuff around charmaine and all her other friends too, which really upset her, being that she was supposed to be her best friend; charmaine guessed madison just finally got tired of it.
"wow, madi, didn't know you had the capability of being mean to anyone," morgan mumbled, and charmaine snorted.
"talking about everybody all the time just pisses me off," madison shrugged, turning to give charmaine a smile, "especially when it's about my girl."
before charmaine could respond to madi, the phone rang again, much to to her disappointment. with a groan, charmaine picked up the phone once again. "hello?"
"looks like i called the wrong number again," the voice said, and this time, charmaine rolled her eyes amusedly.
"yeah, i guess you did," charmaine sighed, sitting on the counter, "why did you redial it again?"
"to hear that pretty voice," he purred, and charmaine felt her cheeks get warm.
a small smile graced her features as she began swinging her feet back and forth. madison was now in the living room on her phone, and morgan; well, she was somewhere in the house. 
"huh," charmaine said, looking around.
"what's your name?"
charmaine chuckled, holding the phone away from her and looking at it in disbelief. "no way you just asked me that, dude."
"what's wrong with asking your name, pretty girl?" he asked, and for a split second, charmaine's eyebrows furrowed — she felt like she somewhat recognized the voice.
"first of all, i've seen too many horror movies to be telling you my name like that," charmaine said, as the microwave went off, signaling the popcorn was finished, "second, why do you wanna know my name?"
"cause i wanna know who i'm looking at," he said lowly, causing charmaine to immediately jump off the counter.
"what did you just say?" she asked nervously, looking around, seeing madison still sitting on the couch. morgan was still nowhere to be found.
"i said i want to know who i'm talking to," he said humorously, causing charmaine's eyebrows to furrow once again.
"yeah, nice try, that's not what you said," charmaine said seriously, beginning to grow annoyed, "look, find someone else to be all creepy with, i'm done here. bye."
"hang on-"
"it was funny at first, but you took it too far!" charmaine said.
"don't you-!"
before he could get another word out of his mouth, charmaine clicked the line off and set the phone back on its hook with a loud sigh. madison's head snapped up, and she looked up to see charmaine with her hands on her hips.
"everything okay, char?" madison asked, making her way over to the girl, "did they ever tell you who they were?"
"no, just some asshole being creepy as fuck," charmaine admitted, rubbing her temples with both her hands. "i swear-"
the phone rang, yet again.
💌 lil
i giggled when i first wrote this ngl. lmk how y'all like it so far😏.
@muwapsturniolo @luverboychris @guccifrog @prettiest-poision @mrssturnioloo @mattsivy @mattsturniolosleftnut @e1ias3 @eyeliketoeatpoosay @breeloveschris @mayhem-72 @l0akkz @summerssover
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bro-atz · 5 months
Text
all tatted up— back tattoo
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in which: there's a really good reason why san never called you after you hooked up
pair: san/afab!reader
word count: 3.8k
content: smut, san gets tipsy/drunk but in this world he's a horny drunk... not a cute drunk..., bedroom sex, unprotected (consensual) sex (remember to wrap it up irl!), tattoos, he calls you kitten a lot, creampies, spanking, a lot of what happened the last time but more?, completely consensual!
author's note: yes i saw the performance yes i stopped breathing yes i cried. two things: 1. help; 2. let's pretend that san didn't have all the brushstroke tattoos in the previous ff yeah? he has the wolf, the hand tattoos, the warrior across the ribcage, and the bands around his arms (i also edited the ff to reflect that...) and yes this is definitely a continuation of all tatted up you're welcome
tag list: @k-hotchoisan @eyeryis apply for the permanent taglist here! part one | part two | part three
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“Hey, Y/N. How’s it going?” your bouncer friend greeted you with the most irritating smile.
“Why is your face like that?” you asked with a frown.
“Well… Remember that one guy? The guy who was standing next to you when we had that big birthday party call in?”
Your blood immediately began to boil. San. Choi San. That asshole.
“Tell him to fucking get lost.”
The bouncer flinched and looked at you with slight fear in his eyes.
“W-why? I thought you’d be happy… He was like asking for you, and he was super sweet while—”
“Dude, just shut up,” you took out your irritation on the poor guy. “You don’t know anything. I don’t wanna deal with him, so just get him the fuck outta here.”
“Sorry, hun, but until he comes onto you, I can’t kick him out.”
“Ugh! Fine. Just keep him away from me then.”
He opened his mouth to say another thing, but you were done. You needed, like needed, that drink stat. You greeted the bartender, who was a little busy since the bar was busier that day, and sat your ass down in one of the bar stools and waited for your drink instead of conversing with them like you usually did. And, just as your drink arrived, so did the one human being you didn’t ever want to see ever again.
“Hi, Y/N,” San greeted softly, a gentle smile on his face.
“No.”
You turned away from him, but he just walked to the other side of the stool. You should’ve just gotten up and walked away, but you were stubborn— you were there first, so why the fuck did you have to move? You turned away again, hoping that he would give up the more you kept turning.
“Come on, don’t be like that…”
“What the fuck? You don’t get to fucking say a thing, you prick! I haven’t heard a single word from you since that night, so what the fuck dude?”
You turned away again, but San appeared right in front of you again. He reached out to you as if he wanted to hold you to keep you from turning again, but he stopped. He knew his place.
“I’m sorry, Y/N,” his apology sounded pretty sincere (which it was). “I have a reason why, but I’m sure you don’t wanna hear it.”
“Yeah, I don’t.”
You turned away once more, only to turn yourself back this time because you couldn’t resist the urge to confront him. You were pissed, and you seriously wanted him to know that.
“Why the fuck are you here, anyway? What happened to not wanting to go to a bar?”
“My friends wanted to go drinking, so I chose this place in hopes I’d get to see you again.”
“Hah!” you scoffed and crossed your arms over your chest. “You could’ve called, San. You could’ve even texted. You even fucking said that you wanted to go on a date— you were the one to ask that, not me, so what the fuck happened man?”
“I know. I’m sorry, kitten, I know I should’ve called or texted, but I just got so caught up in my own world.” You held your breath and nearly hiccuped when he brought his face near yours, his warm breath hitting the skin on your neck as he whispered, “But I never stopped thinking about you.”
“I seriously doubt it,” you responded while pushing him away.
“I promise you I seriously did think about you all the time and loved every moment with you! Tell me. How can I prove it to you? How can I make it up to you?”
“No idea. You can try, but I doubt you’ll succeed.”
With that, you stood up, took your drink with you, and fully walked away from him. Truth be told, if you really didn’t want to interact with him, you would’ve just left the bar, and even though it had been a whole fucking month since you last saw him, he still made your pussy tremble. You challenged him already knowing he’d win, but you wanted to see how he’d try to win you over.
So, it completely took you by surprise when you saw him order a beer from the bartender. You thought he didn’t drink, so this was… New. It kind of excited you in a way— you knew how he fucked while he was sober, but drunk? Definitely something you wanted to explore.
San didn’t come to you as soon as he got that beer. No, he stayed at the bar. He finished one beer, then two within thirty minutes. When he got his third beer, he finally approached you. You turned away from him, but then decided that was the worst fucking idea because he could grind into your ass. So, you faced him. He didn’t utter a damn word while he was standing before you. Even as the bar got more and more packed, he just remained standing, but the distance between he and you closed fairly quickly. Then you were pressed up right against him. You could’ve moved away, taken a step back, or fully left, but shit. San was built like a soft but firm wall and you just wanted to lean against that wall all the live long day.
The other reason you didn’t move was because he was so turned on. You looked up and saw that his face was flushed red (most likely because of the beer), but he was acting so nonchalant despite the fact that his cock was ready to burst at any given moment. He was looking away from you and somewhere, God know where, into the bar. Just that side profile and what he looked like drinking his beer while his tight, black turtleneck showed his muscles rippling from the side could’ve knocked you out from the beginning.
San noticed you staring and looked down at you, a slight smirk on his face.
“Will you let me prove and make it up to you now?”
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San’s apartment was the same as it was a month ago, but this time things were a little different— you and San slammed his front door open, kicked your shoes off haphazardly, and tore through his place until you reached his bed, your lips locked with his the entire time. His tongue was annihilating yours the more he shoved it into your mouth, his hungry, animalistic kisses wrecking your lips as well.
San tossed you onto the bed and immediately started stripping. He pulled his shirt off incredibly fast, flung it to some place in his studio apartment, and pinned you down, his lips yearning for yours once again. And just as quickly as he tossed his shirt away, he tossed your shirt and bra as well, a short gasp leaving you as you wondered how the fuck he was able to strip you down so quickly.
“Do you want me to prove it first?” he asked you breathlessly in between kisses.
“How?” you barely managed to get out.
You whined slightly when he stopped kissing you to sit up. His hands grabbed onto the waistbands of your pants and underwear, bunching the fabric up in his hands before pulling down and sending them flying at the speed of light. San was a fucking magician when it came to stripping, apparently.
A loud cry of pleasure left your soul and echoed throughout the apartment the second San rushed two of his thick fingers into your pussy. They immediately target the g-spot, and before you could even think straight for one second, he had you cumming, squirting all over his bedsheets.
“Fuck, that was quick, kitten,” there was a hint of a laugh in his words.
“Well, it’s been one fucking month, San.”
“What, you haven’t fucked anyone else since then?”
“Do you think anyone can compare to you?” you shot back. “No one will ever compare to you, you fucking beast.”
San shivered— hearing you call him beast was such a turn on, a turn on he didn’t even know he had— and grinned.
“Well, I’ll make it up to you, but first, lemme prove myself.”
With that, San dove right into your cunt, his nose pressing against your clit as his tongue pushed its way through your entrance and inside you. You gasped loudly and pushed your head back into the mattress. You were still recovering from the high of your last orgasm, still raw, so him just going at you ruthlessly had you squirming, writhing, crying.
“Oh! Oh, fuck! San-ngh, I’m—”
You couldn’t finish your sentiment. You cried loudly as pleasure washed over you, your pussy convulsing and staining the sheets with your slick. You were practically sobbing at that point, tears trickling down your face, the pleasure simply becoming too much for you to handle.
Just as San pressed his tongue flat against the lips of your pussy and dragged upwards, you reached for his hair and grasped it tightly, pulling him up and away from your pussy.
“You,” you panted, still recovering from the high of back to back orgasms. “Proved your fucking point. You proved yourself. Now make it up to me.”
“How would you like me to do that for you, kitten?” San asked while wiping the tears from your eyes.
“Fuck me senseless. I want to feel your fat cock pile-drive me into next year. I want you to fill me up until I’m overflowing and spilling everywhere. Make those tattoos dance again, lover-boy.”
San raised his eyebrows in surprise first, then smiled with a slight smirk. Wordlessly, he got off the bed and turned around to take off his pants; and that’s when you saw it.
“Woah, wait, stop,” you told him as you pushed yourself up and crawled over to him.
“W-what?”
You grabbed the waistband of his pants and sat his ass down on the edge of the bed before running your palm over and down his spine. You seriously thought the tattoo was going to rub off, so you were completely taken aback when it did not.
“When— What— How— Huh?!”
“Oh, yeah, that,” San let out a light laugh. “That was part of the reason I never called.”
“What the fuck? Why?”
“I got that tattoo like two days after we slept together. It was healing, kitten. I wanted you to scratch my back and show me how fucking good I make you feel.”
Your face got hot red as he explained himself, your entire body flushing with lust and desire.
“And you can’t really scratch a tattoo while it’s healing,” he continued to explain. “Otherwise it won’t turn out as pretty as it did.”
“Fuck…”
You, at first, were going to tell him that he still could’ve fucking called, but knowing you, the second you heard his voice, you want to fuck him immediately. He definitely played it safe.
“It’s all good and healed now, though, so go ahead.” San smirked as he quipped, “Scratch away, kitten.”
The horrible pun made you want to not fuck him anymore, but once he finished stripping down entirely, that opinion immediately changed. God, his cock. You dreamt about it ever since you slept with him the first time, and you even told yourself you’d do anything to have this cock in your life again.
Turning around so that you were on your hands and knees, you looked over your shoulder and wiggled your ass, making San’s dick twitch and rise higher. Running his tongue over his lower lip before biting his lip, San got on the bed and knelt behind you, his hand resting on your asscheek.
“Raw,” you stated the second you felt his hot touch on your skin.
“Of course.”
San rubbed the tip of his cock along your folds before swiftly thrusting into you, his cock gliding in because of how wet you were. You cried out when his waist hit your ass with incredible force, the sound of the slap drowning in your moan.
Quickly and without remorse, San pounded away. He would slap your ass sporadically, and you would yelp every single time. Your asscheeks got redder with every slap, and the stings of his slaps immediately subdued when he gripped your ass so fucking hard that his fingers were digging into your skin.
“You like that kitten, don’t you?” San bit out, his voice low and nearly growling. “You like this beastly cock ripping your insides into shreds, huh?”
“Yes! Fuck! Oh, God! Ye-es!” you responded in between each slap of his waist against yours.
San pushed your upper back down so that your ass would raise and your back would arch with a slope that made his dick go insane. His thrusts sped up when your ass was in the air and you were pressing your breasts on the bed. Your hands gripped the sheets tightly as you cried out for the man more and more, the pleasure making your eyes fog up and your tongue nearly loll out of your mouth.
“S-san!” you cried loudly, trying your best to overpower the sound of his thrusts into your red, sore pussy. “I wanna— Angh— Hold your hands.”
There were two things San could’ve done: one was to bend over you and press his hands over yours as he continued to fuck you from behind, and the other was to flip you around and lace his fingers with yours properly. He opted for the latter.
You were on your back, your legs splayed out so your pussy was on fully display. San filled your pussy so quickly and pushed himself in between your legs with such force you felt like he was going to split you right open. Lacing his fingers with yours, San had your hands resting on either side of your head, pinning you the same way he would even without your hands tight in his grasp.
San wasn’t thrusting as fast as he was earlier, but God, he was slamming his pelvis into yours so fucking hard that your ass was digging into the mattress. The harder he thrust, the closer he got to your cervix— he was going so deep into you that you were losing your sanity with every slam. Your eyes were rolling to the back of your head, and you were chewing on your lower lip trying so desperately to at least keep your words sane since the thoughts in your head were anything but sane.
“Kitten, don’t do that,” you heard San say in that baritone voice with tiny pants in between word.
Your eyes were barely able to focus on his face as you tried to make eye contact and see what it was he was telling you not to do. It wasn’t until his thumb pulled on your lower lip and he quickly sucked on it did you realize he didn’t want you to keep quiet.
“Don’t hold back. I want you to scream my name, make me go deaf.”
“FUCK!” you immediately cried, moans and groans and other profanities tumbling out of your mouth. “SO GOOD! SAN! HARDER, OH GOD I’M SO FUCKING CLOSE!”
“Oh yeah, there we go kitten,” he said with a slight grin, satisfaction laced in his words. “That’s what I’m talkin’ ‘bout.”
San sped up the tiniest bit, and you fucking lost it. You flung your head side to side as the pleasure made you writhe entirely. San grabbing and squeezing your breast did not make it better at all. You so badly wanted to cum, but you weren’t quite there yet. So, you did as he told you to. You wrapped your legs around his waist, then your arms over his shoulders, your nails immediately digging into the skin on his shoulder blades. You clawed at him, yearning for more.
“FUCK! FASTER!”
You heard San’s throaty chuckle in your ear as he dropped his head and gave you exactly what you wanted. He was moving so fast that the whole bed was shifting back and forth with his power. You clung to his back and cried his name when he finally rammed just hard enough into your cervix. You came loudly, your cunt clenching as you entire body trembled, your orgasm fully wrecking you.
San fucking lost it when you clenched that hard around his fat cock. After quickly grabbing both of your arms, the insatiable beast was pinning you down and hovering over you, sweat dripping down his face, neck, abs, and arms. His eyes were hazy, and his jaw was clenched tightly. With the way he was holding your arms, you felt like could snap them in half at any given moment. That look of his— that incredible intense version of San— made your cunt tighten.
His eyes got sharper, and he definitely dissociated. He held both your arms up above your head with one hand while choking you lightly with the other. Just seeing him grit his teeth and look at you with such intensity while constricting your breath made tears roll down your face because it felt so fucking good.
Your mind went blank when San slammed his waist into you without remorse, his cum rushing heavily into you. You felt his cock twitch and throb as he came, a deep groan leaving his body.
San pushed himself up and held onto your waist, raising it up slightly as he continued to move in and out of you, cum still spurting out of his cock. Finally, he pulled out, and along with his soft, thick cock came a flow of his cum. He caught his breath and watched his white stickiness trail down from your red, raw pussy in between your asscheeks and over your hole— and just like that, he’s hardagain.
You felt his cock stiffen and rub against you as it rose up. Before the man could even say anything, you were moving (pretty slowly because your hips and waist were on fire) towards him. You lightly pushed his shoulder back, and it was his turn to lie down on the bed.
Spreading his thighs out, you knelt in between his legs and took his firm dick into your hands. You stroked him up and down with both your hands and watched as the man ran his fingers through his hair and held it back, gasps and grunts leaving his lips with every stroke. But you wanted more— you wanted to hear him beg and leak profanities from his rosy lips.
Slowly, you took him into your mouth. Your tongue swirled around the head of his cock briefly, the man’s breath hitching. You slowly lowered yourself, taking more and more of him in. But, you took in a little more than you were able to. The tip of his penis hit your throat, making you gag.
“Ngh, yes, kitten. Just like that.”
You pressed your hands into his thighs as you continued to blow him. You wanted to mix it up when you gave head— for instance, you took him in completely, then would release as if you were sucking on a lollipop, or you just moved quickly while moaning and humming. Regardless of what you did, San fucking loved it. When you moved your head all the way up gasping for air, the mix of your spit, your cum, and his cum all mixed together and trailing from your mouth and tongue to his cock was too much for him to handle. You took him back into your mouth once more and moaned, the vibrations finally getting to him.
“Fuck, fuck, fuck— kitten, I’m—”
San couldn’t finish what he was saying because you pushed yourself all the way down on his cock once more and gagged, the gag sending him to pure bliss. He immediately reached out for your head and pushed you down as he came into you mouth with a loud groan.
Seconds later, the high wore off, and San looked at you to see him gazing at him with the glazed, wide eyes of yours that fucking turns him on, your cock still in his mouth. You waited for him to calm down before gulping down his cum, his eyes locked on you. You sat up and wiped your lips with your thumb to lick the rest of his cum that lingered on your face off.
“Oh my fucking God,” San groaned and squeezed his eyes shut before immediately sitting up and pinning you down.
You let out a little giggle as you felt San’s grasp on you tighten, his eyes and lips quivering as he said, “Goddamn it, kitten! Why are you so naughty?!”
All you do in response is run your tongue over your lower lip, bite it sensually, and then let out the tiniest giggle, provoking him once again to completely demolish you.
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San woke up mildly confused. He usually got morning wood, but he was extremely turned on— how was his morning wood that intense?
Then, he blinked the sleep out of eyes to see you pressed into his chest, your arms wrapped around his torso. He looked a little closer and saw that you were fucking cockwarming him this early in the morning. You planted a little kiss on his chest before moving away from him slightly to gaze at his dazed and confused face.
“Good morning, handsome.”
“Fu-uck kitten, you… You’re really…”
San couldn’t find the words after that— he was speechless. So, he did the next best thing and showed his gratitude by grabbing you by the neck and kissing you roughly this early in the morning, his thumb pressing into your neck a little too much, so much that it turned you on and made you roll your body against his, making San take in a deep shuddering breath.
“Just saying,” you purred into his ear. “If you ghost me again, this is what you’ll miss out on forever.”
You then swung your leg over his waist and intentionally rolled your body into his this time. Then, you took his hand and moved it to your ass, the man immediately rubbing and clenching your ass cheek.
“So, will you ghost me again?”
“Fuck no,” San said definitively. “God no.”
“What about if you get another tattoo?”
“Even if I get another tattoo, I’ll let you scratch the shit outta it— Fuck, Y/N. You’re so fucking perfect. I will never ever ever let go of you now.”
He leaned in to whisper, “You’re mine, kitten.”
“Good boy.” You grinned and kissed his chest lightly. Then, you brought your finger to his neck and trailed a line while saying, “Now, about that neck tattoo…”
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jadeylovesmarvelxo · 1 year
Text
💕 Moments 💕
Inspired by this scene in s4, with a similar occurrence happening. Lil fic, all fluff. May expand to write more cute moments if my readers want it ❤️🌸☺️ Minors Dni.
Summary; You're crushing on Eddie and it becomes very noticeable much to your friend Maddie's horror and Chrissy's delight.
It also becomes obvious to Eddie who may be a little bit smug with knowing this.
💕
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💕
Eddie was showing off again, it was like clockwork, every school day around lunchtime he would be loud, opinionated and you couldn't help but admire him.
Okay scratch that, you had a big crush on him and spent a night or two at the Hideout when Corroded Coffin was playing to see him shred on his guitar.
It was the hottest thing you'd ever seen.
Your friend Maddie rolls her eyes as you approach the table Eddie is strutting around on.
"Ugh, Munson being a freak again. What's new?" you ignore her, and your heart skips several beats as you approach the Hellfire table.
Chrissy tells her off saying Eddie is nice and not to call him a freak. You knew the two of them were friends and had been for months now.
The rest of the cheer team told you he was "mean and scary" and Chrissy was too much of a sweetheart to say anything.
You just thought they were far too judgemental.
You're so busy watching him that you don't realize that Maddie is talking to you.
"Hello? Earth to yn please?" she snaps exasperated and you come out of your reverie.
"Oh, sorry. Was distracted" Maddie follows your gaze.
"By that freak of nature? He's a loserboy" her mean assessment causes you to snap.
"Would you stop that? He's not a freak or a loser just because he listens to heavy metal or plays dnd it's just a fantasy game" Maddie's eyes widen.
"Oh my god take a chill pill or something why are you so defensive over... Oh my god. Do you have a crush on Munson?" she snorts.
Chrissy rubs your arm smiling kindly and throws a glare at Maddie.
"It's fine if you do honey, you should go for it. I think you two would be cute together" she beams and you know now that Chrissy knows this, that she will play matchmaker.
Eddie jumps off the table bowing to his friends in Hellfire who applaud him and he flips Jason the bird who has been watching Eddie with a scowl on his face.
He smiles as you, Chrissy and Maddie approach and steps back, motioning for the three of you to go ahead.
You chance a look back and he's still staring, there's a cheeky grin on his face and he winks at you.
You struggle to keep the grin off your face and decide to flirt back, why not? He was cute and you weren't going to let any of your friends dictate who you liked.
So you blow him a kiss and his eyes widen, he makes a show of catching the kiss adding an overdramatic flourish which makes you giggle.
Little did you know but that day Eddie Munson walked around with a goofy grin on his face all day, he went back to his trailer with the big smile still firmly on his face.
Wayne assumed it was something to do with his boys band or a new Dnd campaign he was cooking up.
Eddie really was planning how to flirt with you more, maybe you would blow more kisses his way?
All he knows is the most beautiful woman in Hawkins noticed him and that made him a very happy guy indeed.
💕💕
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