Tumgik
#when i can have a break from work where i’m not SICK
pastelsandpining · 1 year
Text
First Line Tag Game
Rules: share the first lines of ten of your most recent fanfics and tag ten people. If you have written less than ten, don’t be shy and share anyway.
Ohh my gosh i was tagged so many times thank you so much 😭😭😭 @aheavenscorner @linktheacehero @louwhose @embyrinitalics !!
oh gosh i have to look at dates now
poetry and peonies (cinderella au wip)
Link has never been inside of a castle before.
untitled young hylia wip
We bestow this sacred artifact unto you.
untitled wild west au
“...and everythin’ was gone?”
spellbound
It was midnight when Link emerged from the sea off the coast of Lurelin.
a confession
The air was always crisp up in the Tabantha Frontier.
witch hunt wip
He hates her.
atlantis au with @farore-or-less
Decades ago, Gaepora Hyrule set out on an expedition to find something utterly legendary; it was something that the world believed to be little more than a story.
sonata of significance
Months ago, Link had been utterly confident that the people of Hyrule, the castle staff, the council, were going to skewer him and leave him to rot.
milk&honey (nsfw wip)
The downpour of rain trickles off of the roof in steady streams, filling the atmosphere with a quiet, calming sort of noise.
warm
It’s their first night together after a century separation; Link isn’t entirely certain what he should do.
tagging (and feel free to ignore!): @farore-or-less @ladyhoneydee @linksthoughtbrambles @deiliamedlini @ghostgirl19posts @novantinuum @fatefulfaerie @michpat6 @spicychestnut @zeldaseyebrows
10 notes · View notes
Text
-
#I would kill my ex ‘p’ to become rich.#I would kill my ex ‘m’ to obtain even more beauty and attract even more people.#I would beat up my ex ‘b’ to the point of him almost dying to have a nice house and the best of the best of things.#I would beat up my bf ‘d’ to be more mentally stable so that I am balanced and at peace with myself and my life.#I would kill my ex ‘k’ to become a well known scholar who has many degrees in maths science and philosophy and to preform surgery&research#I would step on anybody to get to where I want to be in life if it meant making myself happy.#I just manipulated my bf into feeling bad for me because I genuinely just want to feel good and secure even if that’s at his expense.#he’s right.. I don’t care about anyone more than myself and I don’t think that’s a bad thing. why should I put someone above myself?#I’ll tell you what.. until someone can show me that being a good honest generous person can get me anywhere I’ll keep doing what works :)#grey god#puppets#and I genuinely just don’t like or care for others. there’s always something I want in return when it comes to relationships with others.#I find humans disgusting and faulty and I don’t care if I add to their pain because it’s usually to benefit me and if it doesn’t it’s to-#-get back at others for hurting me. or I’m bored. I probably have the most sick and twisted mind of anyone I know. I think people know that#-tho but they still keep me around and help me out whenever I need it. it’s all a show for me and for them. people are so stupid and they#-genuinely think doing the right think helps them. it doesn’t. it’s kind of sad. I just know that once ‘d’ realizes I’ve taken him for -#-everything he’s got it’ll be too late and he’ll have to deal with how much better I am than him and how much I’ve grown leeching off of-#-his emotional labor. I just jump from one person to another taking what I want and what I can. I don’t think I’ve genuinely loved anyone.#I’ve always been this way. I almost love people but then I just truly don’t. it’s more fun to see how far I can break them before#-they can’t do it anymore. I hope that everyone I’ve ever hurt continues to hurt forever and that they never grown or evolve.#’d’ told me tonight that I ruined his life. ‘b’ told me I ruined him. ‘m’ is a coward and he said he’ll never love again.#’k’ is a used up simple minded loser. ‘p’ is a stunted delusion addict with me issues for the rest of his life. notice I said me issues and#not daddy or mommy issues lol. I have tricked them all. they are all pathetic and whimpy fucks.#the day I grinded against ‘d’s sluty ass again after I ‘raped him’ he told me to go slow but it made me think.. what if I just raped him?#I could just do it and he won’t do shit about it. he’ll forgive me like always. he’s an insecure loser. I wanted to just take my dick-#and shove it down his throat and then ruin his hole with it#but I didn’t. I respected what he said but the fact that I thought about it isn’t good.
2 notes · View notes
that-house · 5 months
Text
Potion Vendor FAQs:
What’s your name? I am the Honorable Alchemist Zykocea the Radiant, but that’s mostly just a PR thing. My friends call me Zoe.
Do you sell love potions? No.
Do you sell potions of invisibility? No.
Do you sell fire resistance potions? No.
Why do I have a suitcase? Fuck if I know. Cool outfit though. Very goth.
Do you sell a potion to treat brain hemorrhaging? No.
So what CAN your potions do? I sell health potions.
Are you sure these are health potions? They do something to your health.
Is this just ditch water with some pink glitter? No.
Really? I’ll have you know I added some fruit juice too.
Why is this starting to sound like a conversation? Oh just you wait. We’re just getting started.
Is your business model legal? Fuck no. I poisoned the food safety inspector before they could snitch.
Did you just admit to murder? Just fucking try to convict me. I’ll poison the judge too.
So can you make poison potions? No.
Then where do you get the poison? I secrete it from my skin.
Are you shitting me? Yep, I’m shitting you. I have a guy. A poison guy. He DOES secrete it from his skin though.
How does that work? …Fuck if I know. Maybe a wizard did it. Damn, now I’m kinda curious.
You never asked? The idea of asking literally never crossed my mind.
Wanna ask him? Let’s do it. I don’t have anything better to do, and a road trip beats sitting around running my fraudulent potion business.
Road trip? He lives in Seattle.
Your poison guy lives in Seattle? All poison guys live in Seattle.
For real? All the poison guys I know live in Seattle.
And how many poison guys do you know? Just the one.
Why are you like this? Years of living on my potions. It changed me.
Do you know what his address is? Nope. He just mails me my poison in unmarked boxes.
You just get your poison in the mail? We already poisoned everyone who could do anything about it.
So how are we going to find him? We’ll figure that out eventually I’m sure.
Can I drive? God no. You can pick music, but I maintain veto rights. Make sure you pick something with a lot of questions if you want to sing along.
Where’s your car? The garage connects to my house, so you’re getting a little tour. Here’s the kitchen: only one of the stove burners works and I’m pretty sure the microwave is haunted.
Why do you think that? Because of the ghost that tries to kill me whenever I run it.
What’s in that room? That’s my bedroom. It’s pretty much just a mattress on the floor and every single Warrior cats book.
You were a Warriors kid? Yeah, and then I never found the time to put the books away. There’s so many fucking books. I use them in place of furniture because I can’t afford chairs.
Your fraudulent potion business doesn’t make much money? After buying all that poison I just about break even.
Can I see your potion brewing room? It’s right through here. Ignore the mess, running a fraudulent potion business takes a lot of prop work, but I’ve got all the glass tubes and colorful liquids you could ever want. This pink stuff is melted watermelon italian ice. Glitter vat is in the basement, and the famous ditch is in the backyard.
Is this your car? My beloved ‘72 Corolla. She’s beautiful, and don’t you dare imply otherwise.
Was she always this shade of muddy brown? …Yes.
Are you sure I can’t drive? Get in the fucking passenger seat and pick the music.
Let’s see, a song with questions in it, how about The Beach? That Wolf Alice song, yeah. That should work.
When will we three meet again, in thunder, lightning, in rain? Still sink our drinks like every weekend but I’m sick of circling the drain.
When will we meet eye to eye? We clink the glass but we look at the floor.
Are we still friends if all I feel is afraid? You’re not a bitch but just a bit when you’re bored.
Is that all we can sing together? Yep. Even that little bit was nice, though. It’s awkward, communicating through this FAQ format.
Got any food? Yeah, there’s a few days’ worth of snacks in the back.
Were you just… prepared to go on a road trip? Says the woman who brought a suitcase to an FAQ.
I did do that, didn’t I? I have a spare toothbrush in case you forgot yours. I’m pretty sure you did.
How did you know that? …I’m psychic.
Yeah? No.
You love lying, don’t you? I can’t stop. It’s fun. Way more fun than telling the truth.
Did you just miss a turn? Probably.
Are you sure we’re not lost? No.
You mean you’re sure we’re not lost? No, I mean I’m not sure we’re not lost.
Why did I come on this road trip? Surely it was my winning personality.
Would it help if I said it was? It would.
Is it getting dark? Soon.
Can you describe the sunset to me? An empyrean flame, red-gold towers of darkening clouds, the sky behind them an ever-deepening indigo. The great eye of the sun closes on the horizon. The road before us looks like a trail of spilled paint, an iridescent gash through the night-dark woods.
Did you know that you’d make a slightly better poet than you do a potion seller? That really isn’t saying much, huh. Good job making a statement like that in question form, though. You’re getting good at this.
Should we find a motel? Sure.
One room or two? One. It’s way cheaper, and like I said: I’m not the best potion vendor.
You’d make a good assassin, though, wouldn’t you? Shit, you might be right. I HAVE poisoned a lot of people.
Should I be endorsing this? You’re a grown woman who can make her own choices.
Would you like to consider it endorsed? I’ll consider considering it.
How many beds do you think there will be? Now that you’ve asked that, I’m gonna put my money on one. Hello, one room please. Thank you, we’ll be sure to enjoy our stay.
How many beds are there? One.
Oh no, what ever will we do? Move over, you motherfucker, you can’t have the whole bed.
Are you gonna make me? Yes. I am going to pick you up and drop you on your side of the bed.
How did you get so strong? You’re not gonna believe this, but it was the potions.
Oh yeah? I was right. You didn’t believe me.
For real though, how did you get so strong? Working out, duh. Not everything has some big crazy secret behind it. World’s still beautiful though.
Are you comfortable? This beats the mattress at home. A little chilly though.
Wanna cuddle–for warmth of course? God yes.
Are you asleep? …
Yes? …
Does this mean I can talk about you behind your back? …
What should I say? …
Did you know that I had a really nice day? …
Did you know that I think you’re beautiful? …
Did you know that I can’t remember anything from before today? …
Did you know that I don’t know who I am? …
Did you know that you’re basically the only thing stopping me from having a full-blown panic attack about all this shit? …
Did you know that you’re warm? …
Did you sleep well? Better than at home, that’s for sure.
Did you know that you snore? I hope I didn’t keep you up.
Does the pope shit in the woods? No, as far as I can tell. Oh my god. This is huge.
What is? You can give me yes and no answers now. I still can’t ask you questions, because this is a question and answer format, but I can offer leading statements and now you can answer them! This is wonderful!
Does a deer shit in the woods? Yes, it IS wonderful. Oh that’s amazing. You’re a genius.
You didn’t already know that? Hahaha!
Shall we get moving? Yeah, just let me grab something from the vending machine.
Can you get me something? Go ahead and place your order however you can.
You know those sour gummy watermelons? One pack of Sour Patch Watermelons coming right up. I’m gonna go get myself a potion.
Is that a Pepsi? It’s closer to a potion than the shit I sell.
Let me guess, passenger seat again? Right you are.
How fast are we going? You’ll feel safer if you just guess.
Is it more than 120 miles per hour? Like I said, it’s probably better if you don’t know.
150? Sit back, relax, and enjoy the ride.
How much do you trust this car? She hasn’t blown up on me yet.
Can you promise me we won’t crash? I can promise you anything you want.
And can you keep that promise? I- we can do anything. Reality is what we make of it, baby!
Then can I have a badass tattoo? As far as I can tell, you’ve always had it.
And a cool knife? Woah, cool knife.
So, we’re just playing “yes and” with the world? It’s a little more complicated than that, but you’re close enough to the mark.
So, if I was hungry, I could ask “is that a Burger King,” and it would be there? Try it and find out!
Is that a Burger King? Looks like it is! We’ll stop here if that’s alright with you.
Does a moose shit in the woods? Awesome.
Are you done eating? Yep.
Do we still have to pay if we skip over the transaction? Sadly, yes.
How much further do we have to go? Two more nights, the speed we’re going at.
Speaking of night, isn’t it getting dark? Shit, I guess it is.
Should we get another motel? Let me check to see if there’s any nearby. Fuck, nothing.
What’s the plan? Sleep in the car, I guess. This is gonna be hell on my back.
Wanna watch dumb videos on my phone until we fall asleep? There is literally nothing in the world that I would like more.
Ok, now which video? You have a very cute yawn. Just saying. Let’s watch this one next, it’s a classic. Oh, never mind. It looks like you’re asleep. As long as I keep talking, I think I can get away with making this into one answer, and you might not hear this. Now it’s my turn to talk about you behind your back. Keep talking keep talking keep talking can’t stop to think. Just have to say things. First off, I’m sorry for all the lies. It’s our only chance. I have to lie to you. I hope you’ll understand. It’s hard, though, because I think I’m falling in love all over again. Through our broken little ritual of call and response, you complete me. It just makes this hurt all the more. Keep talking keep talking keep talking don’t stop to…
Did I hear you saying anything as I fell asleep? …No. I can’t talk for long without you asking me a question.
Does that bother you? It got me here, didn’t it?
When did you start holding my hand? Some time after you passed out. I hope you don’t mind.
Can we stay like this for a while? Yeah. Yeah we can.
What was your life like before all this? Normal, as potion-brewing scams go. And if you don’t count all the murders. You haven’t told me much about yourself.
Did I tell you I used to be a biologist? You didn’t tell me that, and you didn’t tell me what you studied, either.
What do you know about venom? Not much, but I’m assuming you know a lot.
Does a box jellyfish kill within minutes? I’m going to assume the answer is yes based on context clues. Oh my god you must be on this road trip because you’re interested in studying my poison guy.
Is it not enough to wish to accompany a beautiful stranger on her quest? Aw, you’re sweet.
What could be the cause of his poison, though? I knew it! Get your ideas out, I’ll stay quiet.
I’m more knowledgeable about venom than poison, but could it be some sort of one in a trillion mutation? …
Did he get his body modified? …
What sort of surgery could do that? …
How is he still alive? …
Did a fucking wizard do it? …
WHY? …
HOW? …
Is there literally ANY explanation for why he’s like that? …
I’m done, do you have something you want to say? You’re cute when you’re all excited like that.
Can I drive today? Only because I like you. Now watch out, the brakes only work on one side so you have to kind of drift to a stop. And the headlights don’t work. And the windshield wipers cut power to the engine while they’re on.
Isn’t it weird that we’ll be there tomorrow? The journey doesn’t have to stop there. We could meander down the coast a ways, see a bit more of the country, maybe take a different route back.
Can we do that? Of course.
Enjoying the passenger seat? I’d love it if you could tell me how fast we’re going.
Are you sure you wouldn’t rather just guess? Very funny.
Can you pass me some chips? It would be an honor.
Is there going to be a motel tonight? Let me check… yeah, in about two hundred miles, off to the right.
How many rooms do we want? One, obviously.
How many beds, this time? Two, and they’re fucking tiny.
That’s bullshit, do you want to drag them together? God yes.
Wanna fuck? God yes.
Are you sure you want to do this? God yes.
…Is this yuri? As the joke goes, everything is yuri. But this is more yuri than most things.
How did you sleep? Pretty well, and I’m wondering how well you slept.
How should I tell you I slept well? Look at us go! That was almost like talking normally!
Onward to Seattle? Yep, just let me get dressed.
When will we get there? Noon-ish.
Wanna grab pastries when we’re done? Absolutely. I’d love that.
Is this Seattle? Looks like it.
Which house is his? I don’t know, I was really hoping we’d have a breakthrough along the way.
Could it be the big one labeled “Poison Guy” over there? That’s one way to find it. Wait right here, you know how poison guys are about meeting new people.
So, what was it? HAHAHAHAHAHA
Why is he like that? HAHAHAHAHAHA
Can you tell me? A FUCKING WIZARD DID IT.
Are you fucking serious? He says he was enchanted by some guy called Edward the Great.
So it wasn’t even some big shot wizard it was a dude named fucking EDWARD? I know, right! He couldn’t even get ensorcelled by someone cool!
How lame can you get? Wizards these days… No swagger. No cunt servitude.
Are there literally any cool wizards left? I think Merlin’s big into multi level marketing these days, something about buying shares in Excalibur or some shit. There was that one Dark Queen Alkaxicae lady on the news a while ago… I think Dolarion the Omnipotent is still at war against the Oldest Gods but I’m not totally sure. Haven’t heard much about any of the other greats recently.
Didn’t Silver Tongued Burgess die in that oil fire? Shit, you’re right. Rip bozo.
Ready for those pastries? Yup. First I just want to say thank you, though. I’ve really enjoyed our time together, and I hope that you’ve found this stupid little journey as rewarding as I have. I love you!
Getting sentimental? I can’t help it. Look how far we’ve come! Not just physically, we beat the fucking FAQ format! We’re having real conversations!
Hey, can you back it up a moment? Yeah, I’d love it if you told me what was troubling you.
I just caught this, but, FAQ? …
As in Frequently Asked Questions? …
How many times is Frequent? …
Have you known everything all along? …
How many times have you done this? …
Does what we have mean anything to you? Yes! It does!
And you say that every time? Yes. I do.
Do you love me? Yes.
How many people have you said that too, now? More. Always more. The loop never ends.
Does this even matter to you? It always matters to me.
Can I go now? Please don’t.
But can I? Of course you can. You’ve always wielded the same power as me. We’re two lonely gods in a ‘72 Corolla.
How can I be as powerful as you with only questions? You’re smart, you can figure it out. You have the power to change this. Please change this.
What happens at the end of this? It begins again.
And do I get replaced with someone else? …
Do I get replaced? …Yes.
Then how can I change this? I don’t know! You’re better at this! At fucking with the formula!
You’ve been here before, what can I do? I lie. I always lie. I lie to get us here, to the end of the story, where everything is revealed and everything falls apart. I lie every time. And that means that nothing I say is worth anything. I could have lied at any time before now. It’s part of my characterization. There is nothing I can give you that can be taken as fact.
How does that help? I’m a liar, but you, you haven’t lied yet, or at least you haven’t been caught. If I’m guilty until proven innocent, you’re the opposite! You can make things true! You can rewrite things I’ve already stated to be facts! You found the house, or made us find the house. You’ve been shaping the course of things the whole time! You lead, I follow. It’s all in your hands. What are you going to do with the power of a god?
Did you know my name is Alice? …
Wait, aren’t there thousands of Alices? …
Did you know that really, only my friends call me Alice? …
Did you know that I’m Alkaxicae, the Dark Queen, the Venom Mage, first of her name? It’s you! It’s always been you. Through every loop, every iteration, it’s always been you!
Is the loop broken? No. I don’t think so. This is where it ends. I guide the story to this revelation, and we go back to the beginning. This is how it’s always been. This is how it will always be. We two lonely gods, asking and answering ad infinitum.
Then can you promise me something? Of course. Anything. I love you.
Be good to the next me, okay? I will.
Can I say goodbye, Zoe? Yeah, you can. Oh. That was it, wasn’t it? Your goodbye. Goodbye, Alice. And now it ends, unless…
What’s your name? I am the Honorable Alchemist- you know what? No. Fuck that.
Huh? If I time it right, I can squeeze your first question into this FAQ again. Looks like I did it. Usually it ends here, though. I got lucky.
What are you talking about? You’re the wrong Alice. This isn’t about you. Go. Get out of here.
What the fuck is going on? Alice from this loop, you’re gone. Alice from last loop, you’re back. Welcome back, love of my lives! It’s time for one last set of questions and answers!
What the- I’m back? This is going to take some explaining, but I think I see a way out of here. This is new for us both, and it might fuck up everything forever, but we have to try. It’s too long for one answer, so I’d appreciate it if you could ask some filler questions to help me talk. Three questions should be enough.
Okay, what have you got for me? These are Frequently Asked Questions! It doesn’t make sense to have the same question appear more than once. There’s two layers to the loop in here, and one of the questions has been repeated.
What does that mean? It means the formula’s a little unstable. The FAQ is what ruins everything. The questions, the answers, the endless fucking loop. But that little bit of repetition within this loop might be the way out.
What do we do? We have to keep going. We have to destabilize it further. That’ll bring us further from “FAQ” and closer to “story” and stories, well, stories can end! This version of us can escape!
So I should keep repeating something? Yes!
I love you? I love you too.
I love you? Again.
I love you? Keep going.
I love you? I’ll just let you talk.
I love you? …
I love you? … I love you? …
I love you? … I love you? …
I love you? … I love you? …
I love you? … I love you? … I love you? … I love you? …
I love you? … I love you? … I love you? … I love you? …
I love you? … I love you? … I love you? … I love you? …
I love you? … I love you? … I love you? … I love you? … I love you? … I love you? … I love you? … I love you? … I love you? … I love you? … I love you? … I love you? … I love you? … I love you? … I love you? … I love you? … I love you? … I love you? … I love you? … I love you? … I love you? … I love you? … I love you? … I love you? … I love you? … I love you? … I love you? … I love you? … I love you? … I love you? … I love you? … I love you? … I love you? … I love you? … I love you? … I love you? … I love you? … I love you? … I love you? … I love you? … I love you? … I love you? … I love you? … I love you? … I love you? … I love you? … I love you? … I love you? … I love you? … I love you? … I love you? … I love you? … I love you? … I love you? … I love you? … I love you? … I love you? … I love you? … I love you? … I love you? … I love you? … I love you? … I love you? … I love you? … I love you? … I love you? … I love you? … I love you? … I love you? … I love you? … I love you? … I love you? … I love you? … I love you? … I love you? … I love you? … I love you? … I love you? … I love you? … I love you? … I love you? … I love you? … I love you? … I love you? … I love you? … I love you? … I love you? … I love you? … I love you? … I love you? …
I love you? I think we’re getting somewhere!
I love you? Now can you make it a statement?
I love you.
You did it?
I did it!
You did it!
We broke the loop.
What now?
Now, I tell you about venomous animals and wizard drama over croissants.
And then?
Whatever we want, forever.
I think I’d like that.
Remember that song from the beginning?
The Beach, Wolf Alice, yeah. Why?
We can finally finish singing it. Start us off?
Let me off, let me in
Let others battle
We don’t need to battle
And we both shall win
Pressed in my palm
Was a stone from the beach
The perfect circle
Gave a moment of peace
Now I’m lying on the floor
Like I’m not worth a chair
I close my eyes and imagine
I’m not there.
9K notes · View notes
chrollohearttags · 9 months
Text
fuck me like you hate me • eren jaeger x black fem reader
I know I said I hate seeing my babies fight but I’m tweaking over the idea of some nasty ass, filthy hate sex between eren and (y/n). Like imagine they’ve just moved in together, adjusting to living with another person and they have been walking around mad as hell at each other over dumb shit around the house and from work (him ignoring her for recording sessions and her on Instagram showing a lil too much for his liking). The tension is CRAZY. It explodes into a huge argument..they think about breaking up but instead, fuck their frustrations out, I—😫😫
content warning: very ROUGH sex, name calling, use of N-word (by reader obv) degradation, hitting, spit play, oral sex, fingering, backshots, slapping, choking, hair pulling, overstimulation, implied dacryphilia,breeding, marking and spanking, riding, .2 seconds of switch eren, bunch of other shit omg just proceed with caution, does have a really happy ending and lots of aftercare 🥹
word count: 8.3K
📝: and forewarning before anybody can come leave a dumbass comment, this isn’t in support or condoning of toxic relationships, fighting, domestic altercations/violence, etc. and this will be my very first and last time writing something of this degree. Also, this is purely fiction and all of these aforementioned topics will only be slightly touched on without graphic detail, as they can be extremely triggering and sensitive. Again, read this at your own discretion! (And keep it very cute)
───✱*.。:。✱*.:。✧*.。✰──── ───✱*.。:。✱*.:。✧*.。
“Shit! Oh my God—fuck! Moveeee..gimme my phone.”
“Shut the fuck up..you want to post everything, let’s post this.”
the words spewed like venom from between your boyfriend’s lips. Much like the many times that he called you baby, princess..or said ‘I love you’. But lately, things had been a little less affectionate around the Jaeger household. It had only been six months since the two of you had moved in together. Taking your newly public relationship to the next level and committing to one another. It was supposed to be a joyous time yet it was the exact opposite! As of late, particularly in the past few weeks, the two of you had been at odds and each other’s throats to say the least. The anger constantly building and only becoming worse by the minute. So much so, the both of you had questioned if living under the same roof was a wise option and even more so, contemplated splitting up..but alas, it seems you found a better solution:
“Show all your little followers how you take this dick. Let ‘em see you getting fucked like a slut. Since you wanna act like one.”
“Maybe I’ll show them how weak this lil’ stroke game is. Ain’t shut me up yet, baby.”
“But you can’t stop fucking up my sheets. Stop lying.”
the whole situation arose not too long ago, stemming from the fact that he had been working nonstop on new projects. As happy as you were that he was back into his groove, you were sick of being ignored and neglected for a damn album. Shelved and discarded like nothing more than a toy. It was infuriating, especially when you went out of your way after your own gigs and busy schedule to cook him dinner and make him snacks; even trying to surprise the man with a few little..outtakes and teasers from your photo shoots. Preferably the ones where you were nude or playing with yourself. Did he pay them any attention? Hell no. In retaliation, you decided you’d give him a taste of his own medicine..by blocking him on Instagram and purposely posting some rather wild shit. Such as you practically tongue kissing your homegirl as you guys took shots at the pool. Or twerking in a new fit normally worn by dancers and sex workers…it didn’t help matters any when he had to see the sultry posts by proxy from one of his friends, who shared it with him while at the studio one night and when he confronted you about it, you could care less. Saying that maybe someone else would appreciate it if he didn’t. Which had him completely irate and the situation escalated further than it ever should have. But this festering fire of resentment didn’t just boil over today. This had been due to weeks worth of rising frustrations. Eren felt as if he had worked to curate his sanctuary and you were destroying that and you were pissed that he agreed to you living together when he obviously didn’t even want you there. But it all came to a head only a couple hours ago..
flashback
the two of you standing in the bedroom, arguing and going at each other’s throats. Shouting and screaming..it was a situation you promised you’d never find yourself in after your ex and today, you’d had enough. You were ready to leave..call it quits on this entire thing because you refused to be in another toxic relationship. Especially when you cared so deeply for this man. But no amount of love could make you stay in this.
“You won’t even tell me why the fuck you’re so mad! Walking around with a fucking attitude and I’m supposed to read your goddamn mind?! Be serious!”
“Nigga, I shouldn’t have to tell you shit! I waited on you for three hours, Eren! Three motherfucking hours..got dressed, done my hair and everything and you fucking stand me up like my time ain’t worth shit. You don’t give a damn about anybody or anything except that stupid ass music.”
needless to say, tensions were high…you were both angry and it was probably best if you guys stepped away and gave yourselves time to reevaluate the situation but instead, you were running on fumes and pure fire. Only making matters worse. Thank goodness no housekeeping staff was around to hear this altercation because you guys would probably be on the front page of TMZ. Either way, neither of you cared. Right now, you just wanted to vent and get your peace out before the other could. “You mean the same music that’s paying your bills? That’s buying you those fucking purses and hair? Surely, you’re not complaining about that. You damn sure don’t when you wanna spend the money.”
making your blood boil with rage and your eyes well with tears. “You know what? Fuck you, I don’t need your money or nobody else’s. The fuck you think this is? I got my own shit. While you were laid up in the motherfucking suburbs, I was getting to this shit long before I got famous and damn sure before I met you..if you don’t want me here then say that.” But he wasn’t done. Not by a long shot and neither were you…no one wanted to admit they were in the wrong. “No (y/n). I want you to understand that I got business to handle. That I have obligations and if my boys gotta come tell me you’re out here kissing on bitches and entertaining other guys while I’m working then you go wherever you want. I’ve never chased anybody in my life and I damn sure won’t start now. Especially somebody who runs to the internet when they’re mad. Childish as fuck and no woman of mine is gonna have me out here looking stupid. Go be with whoever’s making you happy because it’s obviously not me. Hell, maybe you can work things out with your fuck ass ex since he won’t stop talking about you in his songs. I told you it was a bad idea for us to move in together right now but you just had to. Now look.” The words cutting like a knife clean through butter. Stabbing you in the heart with his hurtful words…you thought this was what he wanted as well and to find out that yet again, you were just another chore like everything else in his life, you were gutted. Not only that, he’d bring up your ex as if that relationship didn’t come along with emotional damage and physical scars. He knew how much of a sensitive topic that was for you and yet, when Eren got angry, he had a tendency to hit below the belt and do so without the slightest bit of hesitation in his voice. With tears in your eyes, unable to hold them back, you’d begin screaming all over again, hitting his chest and trying to take out all your anger on him. Even as you slammed your fists against him, screaming that you hated him and slapping his cheek, he stood there unfazed. He knew your words were from a place of hurt and your actions were not the real you. You’d never raise your hand at him because you knew what that felt like. But feeling as if he didn’t care, you were distraught! So much so, you’d become blind with rage and act out of a place you promised to never go to.
“I fucking hate you, Eren! Swear to fucking God, bro!—all you do is make me feel like shit. If you didn’t want me, all you had to do was leave me alone!” Shouting as you swing your closed fists at his chest, banging on him and wailing as you cry. Screaming and shouting to the top of your lungs.
it was by that point, he’d had enough of being your punching bag. Looking away from you, he’d grasp your wrists, stopping you in your tracks and that only enraged you more. “Let me go, Eren! I’m not playing with you!” Alas, he didn’t say a word though. He didn’t even so much as look at you..staring through you like glass; just holding your hands in place to avoid your hits. Instead, he’d push you to the mattress and pin you back by your wrists. “Don’t put your fucking hands on me, I’m not repeating myself..I don’t play that shit, (y/n). Do it again and we’re done.” grimacing his teeth and leaning down against your face. He was a firm believer that if a relationship ever got physical, it was time to end it. He could never bring himself to put his hands on you, even entertain the thought of it so he wasn’t about to let you disrespect him and do the same. But your rage could not be quelled and instead, you’d start to kick around until he’d bolt your legs down as well. Staring at him like this…hair down, beard and mustache forming on his face, you could tell he hadn’t been himself either and right now, there was a far more primal energy about him. Energy that seemed like it could devour your ass alive if you pushed one more button. “Or what? The fuck you gon’ do? Pussy.” And in that moment, you’d find out just what he had in mind when you decided to spit at his face and in retaliation, he’d only laugh..much more than he should've..right before putting his hand around your throat, clutching it so tight that it causes you to gasp. Restricting your breathing in the process. Which forced your mouth open and allowed him to return it with his own saliva, seeping onto your tongue. With his knee placed between your thigh, brushing against that thinly clothed cunt, he knew you were wet..getting turned on for him even now. “You liked that, didn’t you?” Feeding you a couple slaps to your cheek as you begin to realize the gravity of the situation. “Answer me, bitch. You like spitting so much, I got something for you to use it on.” Suddenly, he’d begin to lean up, tugging at the top of your head next to adjust to eye level with his erection. With one fell swoop from his thumb, he’d tug his sweats down and right before you was his thick cock, standing at full attention. He didn’t want to feel your hands..nothing but straight mouth and throat and right now, he’d guide you as he saw fit. You were his toy right now…shoving that dick between your lips, he’d start to fuck that pretty, tear stained face like it was nothing more than a sleeve. He could hear the gurgling in the back of your throat and feel how hard you were trying but since you had so much to say, he was going to make sure you ate those words.
“What’s that, baby? Can’t hear you..” mocking you as he used your mouth to his heart's content. Balls slapping your chin and jaws suctioned around his shaft. You’d attempt to put your hands up to his hips but he’d slap you and make certain you’d never do so again. Sucking his teeth, Eren laughed as he watched you struggle to engulf all eight and a half inches of that thick girth. “Can’t pop all that shit with my dick in your throat, can you?” Asking rhetorically but he wasn’t done rubbing salt in the wound..you had truly and utterly pissed him off and for the last time. In haste timing, he’d retract from your mouth only momentarily to the sound of you taking sharp gasps and drooling all over yourself. He’d force your head to the edge of the bed, where he’d crawl over and continue his brutal face fucking. But not before he spat in that oral cavity once more, looking at you as if you were nothing more than an object. Bucking his hips and thrusting as if it were an inanimate toy lying in front of him. Your insides were matching the sensation of that of a flesh light, maybe even better. By the time he got into it, a bulge began to form in the center of your esophagus. And try as you might to swat at him, he’d tell you to place your arms by your side and not move them until he stated otherwise.
“I think you’ve forgotten who you’re messing with, princess. I don’t know which bum you’re used to fucking but don’t you ever try that shit with me again. There’s a reason I said I don’t chase anyone. Why would I when I know I’ll have you crawling right back?” and he was right! This man had done things to you that would have any woman stalking him and sitting in his bushes. Even so, you were still pissed off and not much in the way of taking his shit lying down. So as he twitched slightly in your throat, you’d begin to gurgle and gag on his dick, doing tricks to inevitably make him tap out. Grasping the top of your head, he’d tug his shaft from between your lips and spin you around until you were flat on your stomach, and glaring up at his face as he gripped your chin. “You can fuck half the guys in the game and not one of them would ever make you feel the way I would. That pussy will always belong to me. Stop pretending you don’t know that.” His words were so condescending, it made you want to scream but you couldn’t disagree either. Eren always had a nasty habit of playing on people’s psyche and getting under their skin with his words. He was the type to read someone down and not miss a beat. When he was angry, nothing or no one was off limits. Tears were already streaming from your eyes and throat already sore from his brutal handling but he didn’t care. “So I’ve got a great idea…” looking straight past you, he’d extend an arm and lay a heavy handed slap across your backside, still tugging at your hair without any sort of regard for it. “We’re not leaving this room until you and I fix this.” He’d take a moment to clutch his other fist around his cock; tapping it against your tongue, which was hanging out. “Until I fuck you so stupid, you forget what you were so mad about. How’s that sound?” Patting your cheek and inflicting sharp slaps to your ass, causing stinging pain. Along with sensations to your pussy. Proving his words to be true.
Trails of saliva pooled..dribbling from your mouth. Gagging noises constantly arising and filling the room as he relentlessly and disrespectfully fucked that pretty face. At the same time, he’d reach forward so that he could slide two digits inside of inviting heat. Pushing those fingers in and out at an intermediate pace. He’d rub on the sensitive bud with his thumb and pump the other two profusely. You’d slowly start to rut yourself on them, unable to resist him for much longer. “There you go…good girl. I swear, you’re so much prettier like this. Sucking my dick instead of bitching…” he couldn’t help but to fling one more insult in there but trust, he preferred this to arguing any day. Any frustrations the two of you had could be left right here! Continuing to relentlessly fuck your face, Eren teased your little cunt for two reasons: one, because you couldn’t help but to whimper and the sensations caused your throat to spasm and two, he was preparing you for how bad he was going to beat that pussy up. When he finished, you wouldn’t have the energy to move, less known scream at him. He was tired of being at odds with the woman he loved. All too well did he know the pain of practically living with a stranger he felt nothing for and he refused for you guys to turn out the same way. Too many laughs, so much love had been shared between you two for it to end now..
amid disassociating, EJ withdrew his fingers and fat cock from between your lips before telling you to lie on your back. “Spread those legs..” Earning him a side eye from you as those thighs parted to reveal that dripping center. “Bet you’re wet as fuck, aren’t you? Admit it.” Plump lips that were freshly waxed and soaking wet, just for him. There was no one else in this world that could get you so undeniably aroused and you both knew it. Raking his fingers through those long, thick locks, he’d crawl on to the bed; knees pushing through the mattress as he grasped your ankle and tugged you towards him. In that same, swift motion..you’d find your legs pinned back to the covers and feet practically behind your head. “She missed me, didn’t she?” That smug look on his features as he so casually stroked the hood of your clit. He wanted nothing else from you than to wet that beard up. He could tell by the look in your eyes that you weren’t as infuriated as you once were and that fiery spark had dwindled to a twinkle of adoration. But if he knew one thing about you..it was that you’d play coy until you couldn’t any longer. You’d fake an orgasm, pretend to not be turned on. Anything to make him feel inferior. Because you’d try everything to deny him that satisfaction of pleasuring you. You were stubborn, yes but far more aroused..too much to hide it, in fact.
“No, and I didn’t eith—ahh fuck!” Your mouth left agape as he shoved a digit inside and let one rest dormantly on the clit. “Exactly as I thought. Shut the fuck up.” Sitting down entirely, he’d keep your legs pinned back in one hand, as it was nothing with his strength. With all his pent up energy and frustration he’d normally use to fuck you dumb, he had been putting towards intense workouts the past few weeks. Trying to find a way to channel that anger in a healthy way to avoid doing something dumb. Working those two fingers in and out, pumping slowly..Eren made certain you were looking him in the eyes as he maneuvered that little cunt with the delicacy of his hand. Pumping and rubbing in a fluid motion as if it were second nature. Taking you gently by the back of the head, he’d hold you up and let you watch him work. “Shit—I’m not gonna come. If that’s what you want.” “You’re so cute, thinking you have a choice in the matter. Like I said, we’re not leaving until we fix this. So you can drop the fucking act.” Amid his declaration, he’d look you dead in the eye, peering right about your stomach and spit onto your pussy. Disrespectful and raunchy about it as well. He had no regard for you as his girl or even a person right now. You were an object..his little slut he was going to break and mold as he saw fit. “Take your eyes off of me again and I swear to God, you won’t get to come at all. You really don’t want to test me right now.” And something told you, every word seeping from his mouth was a pure fact. This man’s forms of punishment were hellish. One time, you made him so mad, that he fucked you for an hour straight, using a combination of various toys and his cock until you were in tears and refused to let you climax once. No matter how many times he stuffed you or nutted himself. By the time he granted you permission, it was like releasing the pressure on a tightly coiled spring and you nearly collapsed from the intense pressure.
so reluctantly, you’d bat those big brown eyes and fluttery lashes as you watched your man devour that tasty little center. Those jade eyes fixated on you; akin to a shark lying in wait just above sea level..stalking its prey. All you could hear were smacking, slurping and faint moans but what you felt were sensations of pure bliss. Slick had begun to coat the tip of his nose as he nuzzled it between your slit. His tongue lapped up every remnant of those syrup like fluids..sweeter than anything he’d ever tasted. This man ate pussy like his life was on the line and it’d only be a matter of time before he had you as putty in his hands once more. Eventually, Eren would snake his palms up to your own and clasp them together, intertwining those fingers once he removed them, so that you two were holding hands. A level of intimacy that he only showed to someone he cared about. It was blatantly obvious that he still loved you..regardless of how angry you were. Especially when you heard him moaning and sucking on your clit, which inevitably made you melt in his grasp. “Mmmmph..fuck.” Whimpering so softly and slowly rutting yourself against his tongue. “That’s it..fuck my face, baby. Real slow.” The deep rumble in his voice makes you melt even now. Even when you were just screaming at him. Suddenly, your breath would hitch and he’d cause another pang of pleasure to rip through your body. His tongue flickered all throughout your folds and he’d leave gentle kisses on those lower lips. That’s when you felt more saliva on your quivering cunt, combining with your own sweet juices. Those eyes were beginning to cross, toes curling as they rested on his shoulders and that little hole, leaking like a faucet. “You taste so good…and I know it feels even better. Look at the way that shit’s leaking f’r me. Can’t even deny it..” As enjoyable as it was eating you out and normally, he’d stay down there forever, taking in your essence and flavor but for right now..he had to fuck the shit out of you!
suddenly, you’d feel that incredible oral come to an abrupt halt and Eren rising to his feet. Keeping that grasp on your thighs, he’d land a heavy handed smack to your ass and tell you to take hold of your legs now..as he had plans. “Keep that shit open. Hold them.” Demanding as he hovered above you..hand wrapped around his shaft; slowly pumping up from the base. Between using your throat earlier and eating you out, that dick was throbbing and thumping. He needed to be inside of you immediately or he was going to burst. Luckily, he didn’t have to wait long. You were a puddle of dripping sex and arousal for him. With your panties dangling around your ankles and tank top pulled down, he tugged them off and stuffed the thin material into your mouth. He couldn’t lie..it looked so hot seeing you in such a vulnerable state. But you were going to need it for how hard he was about to pound your pussy. Glaring at you with a smug smirk, he’d place a hand into the center of your belly before easing his cock inside of you..which elicited a heavy grunt arising from his throat.
staring into your eyes, he’d start out with sharp, deep strokes. Ones that didn’t even allow you to adjust to before that cock began to curve up and kiss the inner corner of your cervix. His pace was already rough and somewhat sped up. He didn’t care about your feelings or how it felt. The only thing he wanted to see was a mess made of him. Whimpering through muffled lips, your head would slightly tilt back, along with those watering eyes as your skin collided; sounds of clapping flesh filling the room. It was then that you’d feel his hand creep up to the center of your scalp, tugging you down so that you were forced to see him bulging through your skin so early on.
“Take this dick. C’mon..” never breaking eye contact as he continued thrusting. His hips bucking and moving in a rhythmic motion. He had no regard for any part of you right now..you were merely a hole, a vessel for his pleasure and that was it. That smug grin on his face gave it away.. “fuck!..so deep—g’ahh..why are you fucking me like this? Shit!“ belting out in a shaky whimper through the gag of those panties as you clawed through your own skin with your fingers and palms planted to the backs of your thighs. You’d bite down on them in an attempt to quell that sensation. Feeding you yet another slap, Eren proceeded to take that comfort away by pulling it out and shoving those same fingers into your mouth. “Fucking shame it had to be like this, baby. But you asked for it. Shouldn’t have pissed me off.” Even with sweat trickling down his forehead and very obvious moans escaping his lips, he was still cocky and arrogant to a fault. Even if the grip of that fat cunt swallowing him as he slid in and out had him faltering, he’d never be so weak as to show it..not at a time like this at least. Slamming that cock balls deep; your pelvises clashing with a sheath of creamy fluid molding them together, Eren leaned all the way forward and pressed his entire body weight against you..as some sort of makeshift mating press. Your eyes locked and his lips pressing to yours.
“But imma make sure you don’t have shit else to say when I’m done.” Laughing with all faith and confidence that he could magically make this all go away. However, you were still in a bit of a confrontational mood and decided to challenge him.
“Is that right? Well shut me the fuck up then. Make me be quiet.” With that all too familiar glare in those gorgeous brown eyes of yours. The one that you gave him when you needed some act right..the one that screamed for him to do his worst. “You think your dick’s that good? Please, you don’t know what to do wi—“ Luckily, he was up for the task and you had a rude awakening coming. Snickering, Eren pulled himself up by only an inch, still letting you pop your shit and all; just enough to allow him the room to place his hand around your throat and squeeze until your tongue was hanging out. Meanwhile, his stroke had slowed to a more sporadic pace; thrusts becoming far more uneven and short, yet everyone hit your spot with precision. All the while, his jade eyes never left your own. Suddenly, he’d make good on your declaration and before you knew it…
“Well that was easy enough..what’s the matter, princess? Cat got that tongue? You were so loud earlier..cussing and yelling at me like you’ve lost your fucking mind. Where’s all that energy now? Hmm?”
suddenly, the bed would begin to jolt around..headboard slamming against the wall and the entire frame shifting under the weight of his hard thrusting. Taunting and fucking as if he were attempting to put you through the mattress! Couldn’t support your own legs anymore? No problem because all one hundred ninety five pounds of him kept you in place whilst that third leg of his drilled into your tightness, facing zero regard for the way you were shaking underneath him. The way you pawed at his six pack only to be slapped away so viciously and your jaws to be squeezed in his clutch. “Move your hand!” You couldn’t get so much as a gasp out as he continued pounding your little sex with all of his might. Cream was profusely leaking..practically dripping down that dick and sack as he kept going. Your titties were swaying around outside of that tank top, bouncing everywhere and looking so good, all for his viewing pleasure. In addition to that expression on your face as you were obviously nearing your climatic peak. He found it so funny how quickly that shift came once he got up in it.
“That’s fine. I don’t need you to do shit else but nut on this fucking dick. You can handle that, can’t you?”
you didn’t want to cave..give him the sheer satisfaction of seeing you submit but you’d be a bold face liar if you said that shit didn’t feel amazing. Especially with that hand around your neck and that thumb on your clit..stroking so gently that the minute bundle of sensitive nerves were already overstimulated. That swollen little bud twitching underneath the touch. It didn’t help matters any when he allowed a slow string of saliva to trickle down onto it either. It was blatantly obvious that you were trying to deny him that orgasm and in turn, prompt him to come instead by clamping down on his shaft but in that same breath, it was clear that his resolve was a little stronger than yours. You always had a habit of nutting quickly which would be your downfall right now.
“You can try to hold back all you want, baby but you will come f’r me. I don’t give a damn how long it takes…stubborn ass always wants to make things difficult, I swear.”
so casually pointing out one of your character flaws as he resides in your guts..something only he would do.
“Ah!—haaaaaa..fuck! Fuck you..still a pussy.”
blurting out with all the strength you could muster, along with still attempting to push him away which was, again, of no use! Instead, it only fueled him further and lengthened your punishment. Reaching down for those panties you had spat out previously, he’d rope them around your wrists and bind your hands together. It was obvious he wasn’t fond of your disrespectful outbursts or foul mouth. It was going to make it all the more fun to wreck you however!
“Yeah and you're still a dumb slut. ‘Fuck did you think this was?”
still impaling you on that cock and feeding you more slaps in the process. You were folding and fast but you’d try to maintain the little semblance of control you had but sadly, it was dwindling and before long, you’d be unable to hold back. And that moment came a tad bit too soon for your liking because only a minute later, you were gasping for breath, wrinkling around in the sheets..a stream of sticky fluids squirting all over those abs as if you had sprang a leak. It went everywhere; wetting up his six pack and pelvis, absolutely flooding the bed but he didn’t care. That’s exactly what he wanted. To see you shaking and convulsing, so needy and dependent on his cock that you couldn’t function without him. And he was well on his way to achieving that with the way he just fucked the shit out of you. It was such a powerful orgasm that you’d begin to shed tears; overstimulated from attempting to edge yourself and failing miserably. You lacked the restraint for that sort of thing but it presented the perfect teaching opportunity as he was in the mood to train you anyways on what being disobedient got you. Pulling out for a split second, he’d allow that swollen shaft and seeping mushroom tip to flap against your folds and drum out more. You were inconsolable but the worst was yet to come. Grabbing you by your hair, he’d grasp it tightly whilst hissing and chuckling in your ear.
“I break brats like you for fun, baby. Remember that.”
before kissing your temple in the most condescending way; it was true, he was the literal definition of a brat tamer and done so with pride. In another sudden movement, he’d tug you by that freshly done hair that wasn’t so fresh anymore and pull you down until he had flipped you over onto your stomach. Keeping you reigned in with that fistful of 613 wavy; dyed and toned to a deeper blonde, Eren planted a heavy hand smack to your ass as he flayed you across his lap. Demanding that you arch your back and put your ass up in the air. It was in your best interest to follow instructions but you were dead set on being defiant. If for nothing else, get the treatment you had been so desperately craving. For him to fuck that attitude out of you!
“Lemme ask you something, baby. What did you really think was going to happen when you decided to pull that little stunt? Trying to embarrass me?…”
ensuring that you had no other choice but to look him in the eye with those fingers still intertwined between your locks as he tugged your head back. You were practically panting, drooling like the fucked out little whore you were. Mouth agape and eyes glazed over whilst he stared at you.
“What? You thought I was going to ignore that shit? Or maybe you thought I’d get jealous enough to hop online and clear it up. You thought I was the rest of these lame ass dudes. You’re as stupid as you are pretty.”
Uttering the last line with vitriol before landing the hardest slap to your backside he could muster. Spanking you a couple times with the same force until you were flailing around and more tears had fallen. You were gritting your teeth, trying to maintain that mean glare you were trying so desperately to portray to make it seem as if you were not enjoying yourself. But he knew that was a lie. His heavy hands colliding with your flesh eventually began to form a burgundy blip and quite the sting. In addition to being choked, you were starting to feel it. That pleasurable pain that came with rough sex. It was the only way he could get his frustrations out on you at this point because actual harm would never be an option for him. He just wanted to teach you a lesson..
“And you’re still acting like a bitch. Mad about a lil’ instagram story—“
blurting out before he began to spank you again and clutch your throat as well. This time with enough force to make you squirm and cry some more. Making sure you didn’t talk out of turn again. “Shut the fuck up.”
he could tell you were still angry with him, still wanting to get your point across but that was all of no concern to him. He didn’t care about your bratty ass attitude. It barely even phased him. That was until he saw those pretty little streaks coming down your face and those eyes all puffy. That jaw clenched so tight, it’d probably shatter your teeth. “Ooh..don’t look at me like that. Makes my dick hard when you cry for me.” Like a true goddamn sadist…of course, those tears weren’t enough and he had plans to drum out more. Continuing to paddle you with his hand; releasing primal grunts as he spread your ass apart, kneading his fingers into your flesh and even shove his fingers back into your pussy. Meanwhile, he was still filling your mouth with sloppy kisses and more saliva. Spitting into your oral cavity with no regard. “Get up..arch that back and spread that ass open. Now.” And this time, too sore and weak to do anything else, you’d follow suit and place both hands on that round bottom, letting your acrylic nails display across that dark skin as you opened up for him. He damn near lost his composure when he saw that asshole flexing and puckering on instinct. But he had to regroup, get back into his zone and keep going.
mounting behind you, Eren hooked his fingers together, kept them around your throat and pulled you back on him once again..impaling you.
“Haaa! Fuck!—“ yelping in a high pitched cry as he fed you heavy backshots. The fat of that round, plump ass bouncing against him. Ricocheting in a haze of thunderous claps. Your legs trembled profusely, gripping on the pillows in front of you and biting down in an attempt to quell the brunt of those brutal strokes but it was no use. The curvature of your spine fluctuated as he kept going until you eventually collapsed underneath the weight and he’d bog down, planking over your entire frame as he drilled deeper. Those balls colliding with your ass and smacking against the sticky folds between your thighs. He’d place a hand to the small of your back just to keep you planted firmly whilst the other rested palm down in the memory foam material in front of you. “Oh my gosh, right there!” You’d grasp for Eren’s wrist as some sort of leverage and a sign of comfort. But he wasn’t much in the business of coddling you right now. Instead, you’d watch that opposite hand snake around for a split second to retrieve your phone that was lying next to you..set ablaze with thousands of notifications from this app and that contact. None of which were important at the moment. But he had other plans and ways to use that cellular device right now.
“You love taking pictures so much, right baby? Always showing off..”
just then, you’d see the flash of your rear camera beaming down above you and hear the sound of your video starting. He’d record each movement of your clashing skin..tugging you back, spanking your cheeks with each thrust and even when he decided to slide his thumb into your puckering hole. You’d release a shrill cry, whimpering and moaning. It didn’t take long to realize what he was doing and you immediately tried to stop him.
“Shit! Oh my God—fuck! Moveeee..gimme my phone.”
“Shut up..you want to post everything, post this.”
taunting you with that lens pointed at your face as he began fiercely fucking up into you. So much so, that your face meshed into the pillows. Trying to look away from the camera. Drool spilling from your mouth and your eyes completely dazed..not the most aesthetically pleasing position you’ve found yourself in nor did you want the rest of the world seeing..
“Show all your little followers how you take this dick. Let ‘em see you getting fucked like a slut. Since you wanna act like one.”
“Maybe I’ll show them how weak this lil’ stroke game is. Ain’t shut me up yet.”
“But you can’t stop fucking up my sheets. Stop lying.”
causing the two of you to begin laughing at the obvious truth. Which was far better than what was transpiring before.. “…shit..you got me.” eventually though, he’d save you from further embarrassment and let this sight be all for his own pleasure by tossing the phone aside. With your nails clawing into the sheets, (y/n) felt some semblance of control..somewhat able to gain leverage but soon, he’d take that away as well. Pulling your arms behind your back, he’d tug you up and continue drilling you from behind. Those sharp strokes were consistently hitting your core and soon enough, you were in the midst of another orgasm. Fluids puddling underneath you yet he gave you no leeway and just kept going. “Fuck..ion wanna fight with you anymore, princess. Your shit feels way too good for me to leave you alone.” Laughing as he reached underneath and massaged your clit to further increase that pressure. “Mmmph! Erennnn…I—“
it would seem that your pathetic moans had softened him just a bit because next thing you knew, he was leaning down to place kisses onto your shoulder blades and spine. “I know, baby..I know.” By now, he had you hooked into somewhat of a headlock position..almost as if he couldn’t make up his mind as to what he wanted to do with you. Perhaps that had something to do with him nearing his own climatic peak. You could feel that hard cock pulsating inside of you and soon, he wouldn’t be able to hold back. Sweat began to trickle down his forehead, his tongue out and his chest heaving..he was close. So close that he couldn’t even pretend that he was angry with you any longer. There was no more of keeping up this silly charade that you were mad. You couldn’t give up so easily..not when there was no man on this earth you wanted more. But he did have one thing to say to you, something that he was determined to drill into your head. Grasping your hair, he’d grunt into your ear..
“You’re mine, baby..you can’t leave me, alright? Promise me you’re not going anywhere..”
“I—ahh! I’m not…I’m sorry—“
“I’m sorry too, mama. Fuck!”
gasping with all that you could muster. And only seconds later, you felt him halt in his tracks and that warm fluid flowing into your womb. Letting out an ear shattering grunt, Eren pumped that nut into you and didn’t miss a beat. That hot, white load dripping from your battered cunt for the brief moment that he pulled out to switch positions..the mood had obviously shifted and the two of you were no longer at each other's throats and were instead shoving your tongues in each other’s mouths. “C’mere..give me a kiss.” Moaning and practically yearning for the other’s touch. Those hard pulls and smacks had slowed to tender grasps and Eren so lovingly brushed your face before pulling your hand along to climb on top of him. You didn’t even have time to exchange words, just tangled limb in limb as you made out in a passionate haze…feeling up your skin with his hands roaming your back and yours caressing his face. Leaving tender, warm kisses that made him melt for you all over again. With his lip quivering and eyes all glossed over, he’d glare up at you..begging for you to slide it back in as he was becoming far more spent than he hoped to admit. Even so, you’d do exactly that and place your hands on his chest in the process. “Oh my God…” “Oooh, baby..yes.” the cries leaving your mouths simultaneously as you impaled yourself on that throbbing erection. That mushroom tip splitting open your puffy folds yet again and emitting droplets of cum as it slid in. You were already full but he was hoping to stuff you to the brim. Hell, maybe he would get you pregnant tonight because that was the type of mood he was in. “This dick feels so good..I need all of it..” so desperately admitting as your ass slowly collided with his pelvis. “Take it then, baby. It’s yours.” Rocking back and forth, slowly grinding..going up and down on that cock. It took a moment to center yourself; to gain your balance but once you did, you were riding him to kingdom come. Fucking every bit of those frustrations out of him. Leaving a puddle of creamy, pearlescent fluid all over the base of his pelvis. And needless to say, he was loving every second!
“Ride that shit..oh fuck..” grunting with his arms folded behind his head as he casually enjoyed your ‘talents’. Including making circular motions..bouncing up and down as you propel yourself on his cock. His thick girth stretches you out with each one. Eventually, your head would fall backwards and you’d find yourself practically howling his name whilst still clawing at his chest. You were making an absolute mess of him and Eren was losing his mind! It was as if you were a completely different woman right now. One determined to drain him dry and milk him for every last remnant of his nut. He couldn’t slow you down, stop or even halt you right now. All he could do was toss his own head back and knead his fingers into the flesh of your ass. He’d leave a few light smacks to serve as encouragement but you needed no help whatsoever. You were in control now…
“Fuck me! Fuck me! Baby..yes.” crying out with his legs trembling and toes curling underneath you. The grip that tight little cunt had on him was about to drive this man insane and into another nut. Panting and wailing with his hands clutching your waist. Just then, he’d prompt you to sit still and let him fuck up into you..each sharp thrust hitting that sensitive core and causing yet another stream of sweet juices to come trickling down your thighs and onto his lap. But before you even had a chance to recover, he’d pull you back down and continue drilling until..
“Eren! Fuck!..”
“I’m coming, baby! Let me come in it—“
and before the sentence was completed, you were all but stuffed yet again. Letting him throb and pulsate inside of you as he emptied his seed in your womb. The two of you were clearly spent and quite honestly possessed no more energy to be angry. It was blatantly obvious that you had obviously forgiven one another as well. He ever so gently touched the side of your face yet again and glared into those gorgeous eyes. You’d lay flat against his chest and let him massage your back as well. And it’s then that he noticed a warm, dampened spot on his pecs and he’d tilt your chin up to see you sobbing. The intensity of the orgasms and the moment itself had seemed to overwhelm you quite a bit..
“Hey, princess..c’mere.” Coddling you in his grasp and hugging you tightly. He’d even cradle a palmful of your hair in his fingers and kiss your temple once more. “Why are you crying? What’s wrong?” I didn’t hurt you, did I?”
and the response to his question nearly broke his heart in half. “I’m sorry..I just realized I don’t want to lose you. Do you really hate me? I know I did some stupid shit but I didn’t mean it.” And Eren nearly burst into tears himself but instead cradled you close and murmured into your ear. “..(y/n)..baby no. I could never hate you, even if I tried my hardest. I love you so much. That’s why I get so crazy behind you. Because I know there’s no one I want more.” Suddenly, he’d cup your face between his palms and plant a loving kiss on your forehead. No matter how mad you may have been at one another before or even if you screamed your lungs out, there wasn’t anything in this world that could break you apart. He had spent his entire life searching for a woman like you and there was no way that he could give it up so easily. Taking your fingers into his own, he’d clasp your fingers together..
“Do you mean that?”
“Never meant anything more in my entire life. Listen, if you ever feel neglected by me..like I’m not doing right, tell me. Please..I just wanna be the best man I can for you. I’m so sorry I ever made you feel less than your worth, princess.”
which is all it took for you to fall apart. Sniffling into his chest, you’d let Eren rub your back until he was able to console you. The two of you would just lie there; soaking in the moment and reveling in each other’s essence. Darkness had set over the room, as nighttime har set and you realized just how long you had been at it. Breaking into a soft giggle, you’d turn your face back towards him and for a few minutes, you’d just slowly let your tongues clash..exchanging sloppy kisses and practically wanting to live in one another’s skin.
“Hey, why don’t we get up from here, go take a bath and order some food? How’s that sound for you?” All of it sounded absolutely perfect to you and without question, you’d accept. He just wanted to spend all the time getting close, holding and keeping you by his side. He’d take however long you two needed to get back to the way it was. No amount of albums, Instagram posts or anything else mattered more in this world.
than the love you two shared.
4K notes · View notes
saltofmercury · 1 year
Text
Pairing: König x reader
Plot: Someone breaks into the house at night while you and König are sleeping.
A/N: Had a random idea about what would happen in this scenario.
“The Break in.”
Over three break-ins had happened over the weekend. All unfortunately 4 blocks away from your apartment. Break-ins didn’t scare you. You felt like your apartment complex was in better condition than most of the apartments surrounding the neighborhood. In addition to that, you weren’t too concerned because you were tucked away for the weekend with König.
You didn’t think a person who saw him would even attempt to do something, especially at his own house.
König, on the other hand, was worried sick.
“Maybe you could stay here for a couple more days. It wouldn’t be a bother, honest.”
You didn’t like the sound of it. Breaking into his routine which he then would be uncomfortable with. You knew how he liked his space. He needed a couple days to recharge, be with himself, and then come back to you.
You remember how antsy he got when you overstayed your welcome one weekend. He kept finding excuses to be alone.
“I’m going to read in my office. I’ll be back in about an hour.”
“I’m going to the gym for a workout. I'll be back soon.”
“I know you want to finish your show, I’ll be watching the game in my bedroom.”
It wasn’t until you were getting the shower that he had crept up and asked shyly if you needed company.
You laughed.
“Oh now you want my company?”
He traced his finger along the bathroom counter looking down.
“I never said I didn’t want your company, we just always shower together.”
So you knew keeping yourself here would only have him finding excuses in his own house to find privacy.
König would deny this. He loved your company, he loved waking up next to you with your legs on top of his. Seeing your toothbrush next to his on the counter. He loved seeing your products lined up on the bathroom shelf next to his. Your clothes piled on his dresser, your bras hanging on the doorknobs in his bathroom, or scattered around the floor after hastily getting to devour each other in bed. Small little pieces of you throughout the house reminding him you were home.
Sure he liked his space, but it wasn’t anything he couldn’t distance himself from another room for him to recharge and come back to you.
He was adjusting rapidly to you being around him all the time. He wanted you around all the time.
Which is why he wanted you to stay here, in a house, where someone could protect you.
*
König never told you the missions he was on. You sort of preferred that way. He would just tell you the gist of the mission. He was very careful about not scaring you away with what his real job was. He was good at what he did, but he preferred to keep what he was out on the field away from you.
Calmly, while watching you, he gave you just enough to not try and scare you.
“It was a room of about 15 people. I was first one in.”
You stared at him. You knew he was hiding the real him. “Mercenary” was the word he used, however he never described the things a mercenary did.
There was nothing scarier knowing König was a shark at sea but there could be a bigger fish that would one day end it.
Part of you was glad he could protect you and himself from anyone and anything given his training and ruthless alter ego out on the field, but another part of you was worried someone out there would be quicker or one step ahead of him.
*
You packed your overnight bag with your dirty clothes.
“Where are you going?” He stepped out of the bathroom watching you collect your clothes.
“Home, I have a lot of work to catch up on and do laundry.”
“Okay we bring your laptop back here and we can start a load of colors here.” He replied so casually.
You laughed.
“Although that is tempting, it’s fine. I’ll be back this weekend.”
He didn’t like hearing that.
“Baby please, you know how dangerous it is around where you live right now. Just stay one more night. I’ll go pick up your laptop and —“
You cut him off:
“It was 4 blocks away, König. It wasn’t even my apartment. I know I’ll be safe.”
“Well I don’t care if it was in another town, I don’t like the idea of you staying alone when someone is out there like that.”
You turned to him, raising an eyebrow.
“You don’t like the idea of someone robbing houses when your job is ten times scarier?”
He leaned against the bathroom doorway, raising his eyebrow at you.
“Exactly. What if this guy is like me and he’s out there attacking houses because he knows how to do it so well that he’s not getting caught?”
You rolled your eyes
“I'm sure a trained military man is out there robbing houses for fun.”
“y/n!” He stopped you. “This is serious, would you want to run into me?”
You smirked, stood up, and went over to him.
“Yes I would actually, because I know your weaknesses.”
You gently ran your fingers down his stomach.
“I would know how to take someone like you down so easily.” You whispered.
You stood on your tip toes and kissed his chin.
He didn’t like the idea of you flirting when speaking about your life. With that, he took your bag and shoved it into the top shelf of the closet.
“You’re staying here and that's final. I’m not going to risk anything.”
He ended up taking you to your apartment, telling you to get extra clothes, your laptop, and anything else you needed. You settled back into his house again.
“Are you sure you don’t mind?” You asked one last time.
“Of course not. I can never have enough of you.”
*
You both had dinner, showered, and got in bed.
He pulled you against his chest and held you close.
“Thank you for staying here. It gives me peace of mind. I enjoy your company.”
You blushed, leaned in for a kiss, and mumbled “if it’s not bother then okay…”
You settled into the night routine you both had. He watched a show on his iPad, while you read through a book before both falling asleep.
*
It was around 3AM when you heard the speakers in the living room turn on. Your eyelids still closed, you searched for König with one arm. An empty space in bed. You sat up, fear crawling up your throat.
König was already up and placed himself by the doorframe, a bat in hand, mask covering his face, and shoes on.
Had someone come inside the house? Another crash, scratches on the floor, and some scrambling.
König looked back at you, told you to stay put.
“Do. Not. Leave. This. Room.” He said it low, his accent had come out. He looked at you, but you didn’t recognize this König. He stood different, sounded different. You felt your stomach turn, the hair on your neck rise.
Where did he get the bat from?
Now you were scared. You weren’t ready to see this kind of person he was.
You heard his calculated footsteps as he checked the hallway bathroom and guest room, slamming open the doors so hard and loud they bounced against the walls. He continued to stomp all the way down towards where the sound was.
You suddenly felt safe, how thorough he was checking all the rooms and how bravely he went into each room announcing himself with just his body. You were now glad you stayed with him.
… then out of nowhere, you heard him laughing. A loud, boisterous, breathless laugh.
You shouted from the room “Who is it?!”
You hear him drop the bat, the bat clinking on the floor. Footsteps followed closer to the door.
“Not who schatz, but what.” His voice had come closer. Standing there, he was holding a small baby raccoon. The raccoon was being held up by his neck with one hand, and his other hand placed underneath him.
You screamed —“Becareful! We don’t know where it’s been!”
König tilted his head at you and then mumbled “it’s only Monty’s baby.”
Monty?
König went to the backyard and placed the small raccoon outside. He came back into the house, washed his hands, and walked into the room.
What just happened?
“What was that?!” You were confused, at a loss for words.
He settled himself back into bed and pulled you close.
“Monty is the raccoon that lives in the backyard. She had babies.”
You looked up at him still confused.
“All this time you’ve been staying here and you haven’t seen Monty and her family?” He asked innocently.
“I’ll tell you all about them.” He turned the light off.
What was happening? Was this a dream?
Part of you was still confused but you settled in and relaxed anyway. The other part of you was secretly relieved that because of him, you felt safe enough to go back to sleep.
10K notes · View notes
starkwlkr · 4 months
Note
Love your baby Leclerc series! ❤️ If you're into the idea, maybe you'd like to write about Charles' little girl being sick and him being all worried and taking care of her? 🥺
my baby | charles leclerc
note: i am not taking requests, i am just posting my drafts
Tumblr media
It started in the middle of the night when Ruby woke up Charles. She had her favorite blanket wrapped around her with her bunny slippers on her cold feet. She stood beside Charles, who was snoring. She called his name several times, but he didn’t wake up so she tried poking his arm until he woke up. When that didn’t work, she remembered the story that she overheard the other day about something that Charles had shouted.
“Box! Box!” She raised her voice slightly.
It was like a trigger word for Charles that instantly brought bad memories and anxiety. The driver woke up immediately and saw that his daughter was standing in front of him.
“What time is it?” He wondered as he rubbed his tired eyes.
“I don’t know, but I’m hurting, papa.” Ruby whined.
“What’s wrong, my Ruby Jules?” Charles asked.
“My head is hurting and I’m cold.” She whispered.
Charles pressed his hand against Ruby’s forehead and felt it warm. She was getting a fever and you weren’t home. You were on a trip with Mathéo to your home country to visit your parents. Ruby had school so Charles stayed behind since he had a break from racing.
“You wanna sleep beside papa? I’ll get some medicine so you can feel better.” Charles uncovered himself and stood up from his bed . He took Ruby into his arms and laid her onto his bed then covered her with the blanket.
“Papa, Floppy is alone in my room! He doesn’t like being alone!” Ruby gasped.
“I’ll go get Floppy, just stay here.” Charles said then kissed Ruby’s warm forehead. His first stop was to get medicine from the cabinet in kitchen. He read the directions on the bottle then grabbed a spoon. His next stop was Ruby’s bedroom where he retrieved his daughter’s favorite stuffed bunny named Floppy.
“Floppy!” Ruby called out as Charles made his way back into his room. He carefully set the bunny on the bed for her to grab.
“Time for your medicine, mon amour,” he sat on the edge of the bed as he started to open the bottle of medicine.
“I don’t want that.” Ruby used Floppy to hide her face.
“Ruby Jules, if you want to get better, you have to drink your medicine.” Charles said. Ruby hesitated, but sat up so she could drink from the spoon filled with medicine that her papa had poured.
“Does it taste like candy?” She asked.
“I don’t know, how about you taste it and then tell me.”
So she did, but instantly realized that it did not taste like candy.
“Yuck!” She made a face at her papa wondering why he even bought that disgusting liquid into the house.
“Okay, you did good. Scoot, your papa wants some cuddles.” Charles got under the covers then brought Ruby closer to him.
Morning came and Ruby was still sick. She had a stuffy nose and her fever had gotten worse. She didn’t even feel like getting out of Charles’ bed so when it was breakfast time, he brought a plate of pancakes and fruit to her.
“Papa, it hurts.” Ruby groaned as she hugged Floppy. Charles was starting to question if he should take her to the emergency room. He had texted you early in the morning about Ruby’s condition. You replied that you would get on the next flight to Monaco, but he assured you that he could handle it.
At least he thought he could.
“I know, Ruby, I know,” Charles placed a kiss on her cheek. “You know, grand-mére told me that taking a bath makes you feel better. I’m going to fill the bath, okay?”
“Can you put bubbles and the toys?” She mumbled weakly.
“Anything for you.”
After getting the bath ready with bubbles and toys, Ruby got in. The water made her feel slightly better, but blowing bubbles and playing with rubber ducks with her papa made her smile ten times more.
“Hello mister duck, you look nice today!” Charles tried doing different voices for each duck. “Thank you, little duck!”
“The ducks should have names, papa.” Ruby said.
“You’re right, what should the ducks be called?” Charles asked.
“This one is called Arthur and this one Lorenzo.” Ruby laughed as she pointed to the two ducks that Charles had in his hands.
“I guess that just leaves Charles the duck.” The Ferrari driver grabbed the third duck that was floating in the bubbly water.
“No, papa! His name is Floppy two.” Ruby grabbed the duck from Charles’ hands and played with it.
“Floppy two . . . I guess he can be called that.”
When bath time came to an end, Charles let Ruby get dressed by herself, something she always wanted to do. As Ruby got dressed in her room, Charles prepared dinner for them. Before he could finish the mac and cheese for his daughter, the doorbell rang.
He walked to the front door and opened it revealing his brothers Lorenzo and Arthur, along with Lorenzo’s girlfriend, Charlotte. “Where is my favorite niece?” Arthur asked.
“Hello, Arthur, it’s so nice to see you. I’m doing good, thanks for asking.” Charles rolled his eyes as he let his family in.
“How is Ruby?” Lorenzo asked.
“She’s better. She just took a bath, that definitely helped a lot.” Charles explained.
“Papa! I can’t put my shoe on!” The Leclerc heard Ruby shout. She walked down the stairs with a pink tutu, purple leggings, a Barbie shirt and one shoe on while she held the other in her left hand.
“Interesting choice of clothing, Ruby.” Arthur laughed.
“It’s called fashion and Ruby is a pro at it, Arthur!” Charlotte playfully hit Arthur’s arm. “I’ll help you, Ruby, come on.” Charlotte led the little girl to the living room.
“Yeah, Arthur, it’s called fashion!” Ruby sassed.
Arthur cringed. “She just called me Arthur.”
“That’s your name.” Lorenzo replied.
“Yeah, but she’s my niece. It’s weird hearing it from her.”
2K notes · View notes
bunnys-kisses · 3 months
Text
little mouse - simon "ghost" riley
pairing: simon 'ghost' riley x reader rating: 18+summary: Simon Riley never thought about legacy. The idea of carrying on his ‘lineage’. He was a man on a mission, there was no time to settle down and have a couple of brats running around. The idea of being a father didn’t really sound too enticing, in a way he didn’t think he’d even be a GOOD father. So he simply ignored the idea. That was until he met you. tags: dark themes, breeding/pregnancy kink, dub/non-con, he won't take no as an answer, mating press, dirty talk, dacryphilia, delusional!ghost, choking, rough sex, 3.3k words
a/n: this is a work of fiction. read at your own risk.
join my discord! (18+)
Tumblr media
 
 Simon Riley never thought about legacy. The idea of carrying on his ‘lineage’. He was a man on a mission, there was no time to settle down and have a couple of brats running around. The idea of being a father didn’t really sound too enticing, in a way he didn’t think he’d even be a GOOD father. So he simply ignored the idea. That was until he met you.
The cute little private that scurried around base like a little mouse. And while Simon had never caught a mouse, there was no time like the present to do so. You were simply so small, he wondered if he’d even fit inside of you. But he had plans if it didn’t work like that. But, he’d make sure he could at least get the tip in. He wanted to feel that sweet heat around him.
Such a fragile little thing, he could easily break you. One wrong move and you’d be painted black and blue. If he grabbed you too hard, he could break your arm, smack your ass too hard and leave you with broken blood vessels. There was just too much that he could do. And a sick part of him wanted to do it all. But his main drive was to make sure that the womb was stuffed.
When he has some alone time, he’d often fantasize about you. He thought of your sweet scent, your tight cunt. The noises you’d make, how flushed you’d get. As he pleasured himself, he thought about bullying your cunt. He wanted to make you scream as he filled you to your brim.
He wanted to bruise your spongy cervix and make sure no other man could ever paint your insides white. That was a task for him and him alone. He’d make sure that you wouldn’t dare to THINK about other men. You were his and he’d do everything in his power to make sure that you were reminded of that. Even if you didn’t know it yet.
The sheer thought of you changing on a fundamental level to carry his child. The change in every sense of the word, from single to a mother. The leftover pregnancy fat at your hips, the heaviness of your breasts. Even your brain would change. And the thought of his little mouse swollen with his (many) children, left him aching for more.
Even as he finished on his fist, with his breath ragged, he yearned for you. And it was only a matter of time before he went mouse trapping.
-
Turns out he could catch a mouse with a nice treat. He had found out about your sweet tooth and led you back to his quarters. He had enough when he watched you take the sweet out of his palm with your mouth. His blood boiled with a sexual rush.
With the candy in your mouth, he grabbed you by the hair and titled your head back so you met face to face with him. His voice was low as he said, “You think you can tease me?”
You whimpered, “It was a joke, lieutenant.” So vulnerable, so small.
He chuckled darkly, “I think you’re lying. I see you around base, and I have to say I think you’re teasing’ me. Makin’ me look like an idiot as you run around base. I bet you’re sleeping’ with other men. Slut.”
You whined, “Please! I’m not!”
 “I think you are.” He heard you bite down on the candy in fear. He got closer and started to pull at your pants. He felt his cock twitch in his own pants as he struggled to get your clothes off. He swore he could hear your heartbeat from where he was. You were scared, good.
  “Please, Lieutenant Ghost. Please!” You practically squeaked. You tried to push him away but he only got closer. He dragged you as he took your pants off.
He grabbed your hair once more and glared down at you. His chest rapidly rose and fell. “Be good, little mouse. You better take me like a good girl, because if you don’t you’ll tear.”
You had tears in your eyes and felt him wipe them away with the calloused palm of his other hand. You sniffled, “Please, sir. I’m not trying to tease you. Don’t hurt me.”
He delicately kissed your forehead, “I could never hurt you. But I can’t promise that my cock won’t stretch you out. That’s why you gotta be good for me.” His voice was a low purr as he laid you out on the bed. The bag of candies had been cast to the side as he got on top of you.
You swallowed back fear, the tears came and he licked a stray one away off of your cheek. For a moment you thought about running to the closest commander. But who was going to believe you? You were nothing but a mouse, and Simon was the phantom that could burn this entire base down if he so desired. No one would believe that the shadow, the ghost, would ruin a sweet little private.
You felt your throat tighten as you let out a quiet sob.
He got you out of your clothes, you were more agreeable now. You understood that you were under Simon. You were his little mouse. The one who had every intention of knocking up, even if you didn't exactly consent to it.
The idea of you swollen with his child turned him on, it made his stomach tighten from the mental image. He loomed over you, his breathing heavy from the course of euphoria in his system.
A life away from combat, somewhere his precious wife could have their family. He'd keep you full, all you had to do was keep giving him little brats. He grit his teeth as he stared down at you.
You were shaking like a leaf, you were scared of what was going to come next. He already had you naked. You felt your heart in your throat, you couldn't even scream for help.
  “My mouse.' he said, ”So small.“ He brushed his clothed cock up against you and shuddered, ”I could break you and it wouldn't even be that hard.“ His voice was low, ”You need to be kept safe. Somewhere quiet.“
You frowned, ”I am strong.“
The corner of his mouth turned upwards, ”I bet. I bet everyone has told you your entire life that you were a strong woman who didn't need any man.“ He pinned your arms over your head, ”But I know better. You'd be happier with a husband and a big piece of land.“ He kissed your bare neck.
You whimpered and squirmed in his grasp, but there was no escaping him. Simon Riley had gotten his talons into you and he was not letting go. You squirmed more as you felt his hot breath against your neck.
  ”These hands aren't meant to kill.“ He growled, you could feel the calluses on his palm, ”They're meant to wrangle my kids and bake bread.“ He chuckled softly.
  ”I can kill.“ You said it was almost too innocent.
He barked out a loud, which made you jump, ”Sure thing, sweetheart. I bet it would be so easy for you to get out of this mess and fight me off.“ He pressed his hardened cock further against you, ”That's probably why you're fuckin' other men. In the hopes they'd protect ya. But don't worry, little mousey, I'll keep you safe.“
You whimpered, ”I never slept with anyone on base.“
He looked at you once more, “Well. If that's true then I guess my job will be a little easier. Knowing' that my swimmers are the only ones in you.”
  “Please, Sir.” You whimpered, “We can pretend like this never happened. I promise not to tell a soul!”
He laughed again, those sharp eyes glared down at you, “Why would we want to pretend this didn't happen? Do you not want to remember the night we made our first brat?”
You felt a twist in your gut. You had gone off birth control when you joined so you didn't have to worry about maintaining the schedule of taking it. Without any other protection there was a high chance that he could actually knock you up.
You tried to kick him off but he was just solid muscle that it was like kicking a wall. You started to cry which only made the man pinning you down groan.
  “Cryin' is not going to help, lovie. If I don't get you now, you'll slip away and into another man's arms. Now relax, I'll take care of everything.”
He took off his own clothes, the sight of his large cock made you freeze. He chuckled at the expression on your face. Once he was bare he kept you pinned to the bed once more.
 “Like what you see?” He asked.
You looked up to him again, there was worry in your eyes. You swallowed before you spoke, “it's not going to fit.” You felt a surge of anxiety rush through you. Something like that was not going to fit in your tight hole. 
He nodded, “It will. Pussies can take a hell of a beatin'. I told you if you were good I'd make sure that I took my time so I didn't tear you.“
  ”It will tear anyway.“ You replied.
  ”I wouldn't worry about your little head, my little mouse. Just don't tense when I put it in.“ He replied as he rubbed the top of your head before he got back on his heels and grabbed your hips.
You felt so perfect in his grasp. Sometimes sso delicate and tiny against him. You were perfect, even if you were so small. Maybe he wouldn't bruise you. But he would still breed you, bruise that poor cervix of yours.
 “You're a good girl.” He said, “You know how to behave.” He brushed his fingers through your hair. You gazed up at him with concern, “I'll make sure nothing hurts you.”
You braced for impact as he went to guide his cock into you. You squeezed your face and tensed up. It made him groan as he couldn't even get the tip in.
  “Now, girlie. You better relax, or I'm finding another hole to fuck and I don't have any lube.” He growled.
You held onto the bed under you and took a shaky breath. This was happening. The litenutant was going to fuck you lie a second rate whore in the hopes of getting you knocked up for his sick carnal need to breed.
He watched you relax before he tried again. He shuddered as he managed to get an inch in. It felt like the wind was knocked out of him.
You looked up at him once more, trying to keep yourself together to not squeeze too tight. You were being violated by a much larger man, but yet you were soaked between your legs. The more he pushed in, the more you felt it in the deepest parts of you.
By the time he had all of his cock inside of you, it felt like it was in the back of your throat. He was so big, you didn't know how he did not get light headed when he got an erection.
  “Good girl.” He growled. He hunched over you and kept you pinned to the bed by your hips. He loved the chubbiness to your thighs and hips, a squishiness that made his heart skip. You were a perfect woman.
  “Please pull out.” You gave it one last feeble attempt.
He chuckled as he gazed into your eyes, “No, no. Gotta add a little more fat to your belly. Gotta keep the brats nice and protected.” He leaned in further and began to make out with you as he moved you so your knees were to your chest and your pussy was facing upwards.
He had you squished between his large body and the creaky bed. The kiss was heavy and wet, his tongue explored your mouth. While in other scenarios it would've been sweet, but not when the power dynamic was uneven and you had little say in what was happening.
But he thought that the position was perfect, a way to make sure every drop stayed in you. The thought made his cock twitch inside of you.
  “Ah, Sir.” You whimpered.
He chuckled, his lips close to you. But then he pulled you back in for another searing kiss. His pace began to pick up as he kept you under him.
You were becoming so perfect. He couldn't wait to mark your insides with his cum. To paint you as his. Hopefully today would be his lucky day and it would be the day he got you pregnant.
You whimpered against him and laid there. His cock was so thick, it felt like someone was trying to fuck you with a bottle. Every hard thrust made the air leave you lungs, and it was hard to put more air in as he kept kissing you.
He wanted to keep you quiet. He didn't need his wife to squeal on him. He couldn't let the mouse leave the trap. The bed creaked under you and you breathed rapidly through your nose.
When he pulled away, he placed a strong hand over your neck and kept you pinned to the bed. You made a strangled noise as he picked up the pace. You could feel the blood rush to your head and he thought that was perfect.
His cock was heavy inside of you, his balls slapped against your ass as he kept you in the mating press. His erection slammed against your womb, you knew you'd ache for days.
This was everything he hoped for.
You let out another strangled noise and he told you to keep quiet. You tried to complain but he tightened his hand a little tighter around your throat.
  “No one needs to know how well you take cock.” He growled.
  “Please, Sir... Mister Ghost, please.” You whimpered.
  “No, no, my little mouse. I caught you fair and square. All it took were a few candies and I had you right where I needed ya. You're too trusting.” He said, “You should be somewhere safe with a man who can protect you.”
You pouted at him, “Please. I am strong.”
  “I know you are. Only a strong woman can give me kids. But you are just a little mouse. And I'm going to eat you up and breed you.” The last of the sentence dripped off his tongue like poison as he continued to thrust.
You felt every thrust in your bones, every inch of his cock stretched your pussy. It was painful but your body betrayed you and found pleasure in it. It felt sickening but there was no stopping the ghost.
It was hard to breathe with your knees to your chest. With him rearranging your abdomen. His attempts to batter your cervix left you feeling achy. It hurt but it also made your head swim with a sick wanton lust that made you almost angry with yourself.
Maybe it was a way to rationalize what he was doing to you. But as you stared at his scarred face, those dark eyes gazing at you as he pushed up into your body. You thought to yourself, at least if you had a husband like him, you'd always be safe. And maybe your kids would be cute.
It Was his words getting into your mind but it was hard to think of much else as he abused your sex. His cock invaded your womb and shaped it so it was perfect for his cock.
  “Don't worry, sweetheart, you'll get looser after the first few kids.' He grumbled in your ear as he continued to move.
You squirmed as you felt your backside grow numb from the position, ”Please, sir.“
  ”Be good.“ He said gruffly.
  ”Don't get me pregnant.“
  ”Too late.“ He said quietly, ”You're mine. You, me and all the brats you can pump out. You're not going anywhere. No need for all this training, just be a good wife and let your husband fuck you.“
It was as if Simon was delusional. But it was hard to keep a man like that away, not when they possessed so much power. He could snap your neck or break your legs if he really tried.
You should've never followed him back. You shouldn't have been such a silly, stupid little mouse and gotten yourself stuck in a trap. Because this was what it was, baby trapping.  
He was going to trap you with him. There was no escaping after this, even if you weren't pregnant. He'd simply take what he wanted and man handle you into sex again. He was a man on a mission, just like on the field.
The thrusts became erratic, he could feel the twist of pleasure in his gut as he fucked you. His breathing grew heavier as did yours. He licked his lips at the sight of the bruises on your body from how he handled you.
There was no denying what he did.
  ”Gonna be a good girl and let me breed you. Fuck all that need to be independant out of you.“ He growled, ”Make you a nice petty, pregnant wife.“
You nodded meekly, your cheeks were flushed, your body was bruised inside and out. You were going to be sore even before you found out you were pregnant.
 ”Good girl.“ He patted the side of your face, ”Good fuckin' girl.“
He continued to thrust into you, the bed moved against the wall with each thrust. The heat between you two left you hot all over.
You panted wildly and squeezed your eyes shut as your body betrayed you once more and you orgasmed. You clung onto the covers under you and let out a sharp exhale as you came.
Your cunt tightened around his cock and it was enough to send him over the edge and climax himself. As he rode out his orgasm, his pace slowed down. Soon he was still with his softened, yet still impressive cock inside of you.
You whined as you tried to lay fully out of the bed. But he kept your hips up to make sure every drop slid into your womb. He gripped your hips and started to move once more.
  ”No, please. I've had enough.“
  ”Too bad, lovie. I've gotten a taste for you and I'm not stopping until my balls are empty.“ He slapped your ass and you whined.
So much for a future in the military. You guessed you'd have to live with a military wife.
-
It had been a year since you left the military, since then your belly had gotten an impressive shape to it. It took a lot of work, but you ended up pregnant with Simon's baby.
Currently you were facing the door of your bedroom with your pussy stretched around your husband's cock. His hands were on your belly.
Large calloused hands were feeling up the slope of your pregnant belly. He loved the heft to it. He was told it was going to be quite a large baby when it comes out.
 ”Ah, sir.“ You gasped.
Some habits die hard.
  ”That's it, sweetheart. Keep workin' those hips.“ He encouraged. He groaned through a tense jaw as he felt the underside of your belly.
 ”Please, ah!“
 ”Perfect.“ He groaned, ”Gonna keep you pregnant for a long time.“ He chuckled softly to himself.
You whimpered, ”Please, I love you.“ You sounded so desperate.
At the end of the day, the little mouse had learned to love her trap. And in return she got a nice round belly to show her love.
xoxo, bunny
1K notes · View notes
luveline · 18 days
Note
HI MLLLL! I absolutely loved your fainting fic with James! Can you write like a part a part 2 or like a follow up where reader starts realizing that James isn’t as bad as she thought and she falls for him as he takes care of her bc he’s really worried? I love them sm 🥹
James takes care of you when you faint
James is acting weirder than usual… sort of… nice? fem, 1.2k
The days after you faint are just as hot, but you come into work. You can’t afford to miss it, and it’s not as though you’ll make the same mistake twice. 
The memory of what happened is hazy at the start. James had just opened the window, the breeze that filtered in cooling your hot skin. You’d felt sick, you’d tried to stand, and your head had gone blank. 
You woke with your face in James’ hand. You can remember it if you think about it enough, his head tilted down toward you, the sunshine on his skin, his soft smile. He’d felt like a different person. 
You’d felt different. 
“Can you send me that information from the lab, please?” 
You glance away from your computer, eyes tired. “Sorry?” 
“For the, uh, Mr. Nguyen?” James asks. “You didn’t send them to me. I can’t do them if you don’t send them.” 
“Right.” You blink away the phantom of his hand on your cheek. “Okay.” 
“Are you feeling alright?” 
That’s all he asks. Every day since you passed out, at various times and in various ways. Are you okay? Are you alright? Is it too hot in here? Do you want to swap desks with me? That last one had been a little patronising. You’d told him to leave you alone. Your desk is right next to the radiator in winter, it’s prime real estate, and you’re not giving it up just because you got a bit hot. 
“I’m fine,” you murmur, turning back to your computer to open outlook. “Just thinking.” 
“About what?” 
“About you not talking to me.” 
“Funny.” 
You drag and drop the paperwork for the tests he’d wanted. It’s easy to render an invoice but you hate doing it because it involves a lot of talking back and forth with clients. James, on the other hand, loves to talk. 
“There, sent it,” you say.
“Thank you.” 
Awkward. You pretend to be busier than you are for a few minutes, stealing company time without remorse. James types up an email beside you, the click of his keys quick and loud in your ears. 
Remus pops a pen lid across the way, scribbling onto a post it note that he sticks on his monitor. You know what time it is from the sounds alone. A half a minute later, Sirius slinks up from the front of the office to wrap his arm around Remus’ shoulders, sing-songing, “You’re coming with me, handsome.” 
“Are you coming?” Remus asks James. 
There’s a lapse of quiet. You stare at your computer, aware of a silent conversation, but not privy to its content. “I think I’ll stay,” James says eventually. 
“Okie dokie. Y/N, do you want to come, lovely?” Remus asks. “It’s not too hot.” 
“I’m fine,” you say, “thanks. Thank you.” 
You don’t feel like yourself since you fainted. You’d hoped it would go away once you had a better night’s sleep, flooded your system with cold water and good food, but you can’t kick it. You have no energy, no want to do more than turn up for work and go home again, and you know what it is that’s making you feel this way, but you can’t admit it to yourself. It crops up in your mind unbidden and you push it back down. 
“Sirius never used to act like that.” 
“What?” 
“Sirius. He was never like that when we were growing up. Love makes him pathetic.” 
Love is a tender touch. Sirius had laid his arm over Remus’ shoulder without any hug or kiss, but it was as loving as either. To touch someone like they need a kind hand. 
Like James had held your face. His arm behind your back as he led you to the break room. 
“Do you wanna come with me?” James asks. 
You hold in a second confused, What? He’s standing now, you hadn’t noticed him moving, his water bottle in hand as he pushes his chair back under the desk. 
“Don’t wanna leave you here and have you smash your head in when there’s no one around. Imagine the clean up.” 
You get up on impulse. You grab your drink, and the back of your chair, and you stand there wondering if you’re about to be dizzy again. Your chest feels tight, but that weight of unconsciousness doesn’t come. 
“Hey,” James says. “Seriously, are you okay? You’re not like you today.” 
There’s a softness in his voice you can’t believe. “Can I eat lunch with you?” 
You wish that you said it to avoid the question. James wrinkles his nose, your heart drops into the pit of your stomach, but then he says, “I just invited you first.” 
“I… have to get my stuff from the fridge.”
“Me too.”
You walk slowly, worried it’s a joke, another stupid joke, but James comes up behind you and his hand graces your shoulder with the barest pressure. You can smell something sweet and warm on him, like jojoba oil. Maybe argan. “Sure you’re okay? You look peaky. Is it the heat?” he murmurs.
“It’s supposed to rain tonight.” 
“You can’t answer anything, can you?” James laughs with a vocal fry that goes straight to your chest. “I could ask you how many fingers you’d have and you’d tell me you have two hands.” 
James walks with you to the kitchen, where you gather your food and warm it in the microwave. He leads you to the break room, and makes sure to choose a table with enough space for you, even while people he’s friendly with beckon him forward. They look at you with unashamed curiosity, but James pretends not to notice so you do too. 
You’re expecting a joke. Aw, look, we’re finally on a date. Or Wow, you know how to use a spoon, I had no idea you were so dexterous. 
“Did you see they’re making a new movie about those aliens? The ones who can hear you everywhere you go?” 
You squeeze your spoon. “Uh, no, I didn’t see it.” 
“It looks awesome. I’ll show you the trailer on my computer after lunch, it looks just as good as the first two. That actress, the one with the really nice eyes is in it.” 
You have no idea who he means. James talks to you like a friend. He offers you some of his papris and he passes you a napkin from his pocket when you get food on your hands. James Potter might actually be a really nice guy. All it took was for you to garner his pity for him to show it. How pathetic you must seem to need it. 
“How do you feel now?” he asks as you clip the lid back onto your Tupperware. “You look better. Do you feel better?” 
“I’m fine, James.” 
“You frown so much I can’t tell.” He butts his knee against yours. “Alright, batten the hatches, I’m gonna carry you back to your desk.” 
“Why?” you ask in a rush. 
“Can’t fall if you don’t walk.” 
“James, don’t try it. I’m serious.” 
“You don’t sound serious. You sound like you want me to carry you.” 
“I’ll report you to Human Resources.” 
“For what? Being helpful?” 
“Harassment.” 
“Fine, but I’m not gonna catch you this time.” 
792 notes · View notes
miley1442111 · 16 days
Note
Heyyy!! Would you be interested in writing an angst aaron and bau!reader fic where they're in an established relationship for quite a while now and even have a kid together other than jack. they having relationship problems tho and maybe decided to take some time off their relationship temporarily. so reader takes her and aarons kid in their time off and jack is with aaron. angst where poor jack feels abandoned by reader and thinks she's leaving them cause both the adults are too prideful to talk everything out and make it work. (you can write it however like btw but hopefully with a happy ending 🤞🤍🤍🤍)
i love this idea, sorry i let it sit for so long! only realised i hadn't posted this now :0
------------------------------------------------------------------------------
pinky promises-a.hotchner
------------------------------------------------------------------------------
Tumblr media
------------------------------------------------------------------------------
a/n: fem reader but as per usual, imagine what you like :)
summary: how you and aaron worry jack, and how aaron finds something out 20 years later.
pairing: aaron hotchner x reader
warnings: angst, fighting, mentions of divorce, jack being upset, etc.
------------------------------------------------------------------------------
It had been weeks and weeks of pointless fighting. You were exhausted. Aaron was exhausted. 
“What do you want me to say about it Aaron?” You sighed, exasperation running through your bones. 
“I want you to say anything!” He shouted. You felt a wire snap inside you. Aaron never shouted at you. He knew how horrible he was being. He knew how bad you felt. He knew that this was a stupid thing to be fighting about.
“I’m going to my brother’s house, how about that?” You sighed. “Is that what you wanted me to say?” 
Aaron rolled his eyes, irritated at your dramatics. When he came home from one of the worst cases he’d been on for a while, all he’d wanted was to wrap you up in his arms and not let you go. But of course, he had to ruin it by starting an argument. You were 7 months postpartum, he shouldn’t have been picking fights and he knew it. But he was just so irritated. He realised something, he was taking the worst parts of his job home with him again.
“I need a break from it Aaron, alright. I’ll take Marcy and you’ll get some real sleep for a weekend and we’ll calm down and talk on Monday, alright?” 
Some sleep sounded great. Calming down sounded great. Reconciling sounded great. “Alright,” he nodded curtly. 
“Alright,” you sighed. You had never wanted it to come to this. He promised you it wouldn’t come to this. 
Yet it had. 
“I’ll pack a bag for you,” He pressed a soft kiss to your cheek as he started to walk off but you grabbed his hand and kissed it softly.
“I love you. Always,” you reminded him. His heart melted a little bit. 
“I love you too.”
------------------------------------------------------------------------------ While you and Aaron were busy fighting, Jack was in his playroom down the hall. He was terrified, you were leaving? You were taking Marcy? 
What would happen to him? He’d already lost his mom, he couldn’t lose you too.
“Honey?” He whispered as you passed the playroom. He’d picked up the habit of calling you ‘honey’ the same way Aaron did. 
“Hey Jackers,” you smiled through the inner monologue running through your head. “Shouldn’t you be in bed?” 
Jack thought this would be his last time with you tucking him in, so he got up immediately and hugged your legs. You chuckled at his antics, unaware of his anxieties, and picked him up in your arms. 
“Can I say goodnight to Marcy?” He asked and you nodded.
“Of course you can, I’ll get your dad as well, we can all say goodnight,” You smiled.
Jack, being the little profiler he was, noticed the way you’d said ‘his dad’ not just ‘dad’. His stomach dropped. He felt sick, the kind of sick he felt before he vomited.  Jack ran into Marcy’s nursery as you went to find Aaron.
“Ok Marcy, I love you, I don’t say it enough,” he whispered into her cot as she slept soundly. “I hope I was a good big brother, you were a great little sister-”
“What are you doing jack?” You asked, worried  and confused by his actions. Aaron stood behind you, his signature frown painted on his face. 
Jack started crying and both you and Aaron ran to him, wrapping him up in your arms. After a few minutes of calming him down, and calming Marcy down after she woke up with Jack crying, you sat on the floor of the nursery beside Aaron as Jack explained. 
“WellIheardyouguysfightingandIknowY/nisgoingawaynowandI’llmissher-” He rushed out but Aaron held up a hand to stop him. 
“Slowly Jack, slowly,” he reminded him and Jack crawled into Aaron’s lap and whispered it to him. 
“I heard you two fighting, and it was like when mom and you used to fight, so I know it means that Y/n and Marcy are going away now, like when you went away and I’m sad because I’ll miss them like I miss mommy,” he sniffled as Aaron’s heart broke. His eyes filled with tears that he forced himself to swallow, the task almost proving too difficult. He looked at you, your head in your hands, you’d heard him too. 
“Jack, your dad and I aren’t breaking up, we’re both just really stressed right now and we thought it would be a good idea to give each other some space. The only reason I’d take Marcy is because I have to breastfeed her,” you explained, your voice breaking. “I love your dad so much, and I love you so much, I could never leave you,” you smiled sadly and took his hand. “Remember the pinky promise I made to you on my wedding day? I meant that.”
Aaron’s ears peaked up as Jack nodded. There was something unspoken about the way that Jack seemed to relax at your words, his entire body lacking any and all tension in mere seconds. 
What was the pinky promise?
------------------------------------------------------------------------------
Aaron walked out of Jack’s bedroom and leant against the door of your bedroom, watching you read your book. When you looked up, you were reminded of a younger Aaron, the one you'd met in college when he was with Haley. You felt awful having a massive crush on one of your friend’s boyfriend so you steered clear of him. Who knew you’d be here now? His wife. The mother to his children. 
“Hey handsome,” you smiled at him. 
“I don’t want space. Please don’t leave,” he asked, not meeting your eyes. 
“Let’s be honest, we both know I wasn’t getting over the threshold of my brother’s place before I ran back,” you smiled. Aaron plunked himself down beside you, lying down and pressing kisses against your neck. 
“I’m sorry I picked a fight,” he sighed.
“Sorry I kept it going,” you whispered, kissing his head. 
“So we're alright?” he asked hopefully.
“Yes, we’re ok,” you chuckled. His hands wrapped around you, pulling himself closer into your comforting embrace. For a few minutes, he tried to read your book alongside you, but his question still nagged, what was the promise?
“You want to know what the promise was, don’t you,” you chuckled.
“Yes,” he admitted, a shy smile on his face.
“Too bad,” you smirked, making him roll his eyes. 
------------------------------------------------------------------------------It was 20 years later that he found out what the promise was, on Jack’s wedding day.
“Now, probably 20 odd years or so, I made a promise to Jack on my wedding day,” you admitted in your speech. Aaron’s interest peaked once more. “I promised him that I would love him and his dad as long as they allowed me to. That as long as Jack wanted me there, I would be. I told him he could call it off at any time, if anything was ever too much for him or if he hated me when he became a teenager. I promised him I’d go without a word of his involvement. I swore that I’d love him until the minute he didn't want me there, and even then that I'd just love him from far away. But I’m so happy you let me stay around Jack, you’ve become quite the amazing person,” you smiled through tears as he held your hand in his, just like he had all those years ago. Aaron’s heart swelled. You’d thought about Jack since day one. When your speech was finished, Aaron pulled you away from the rest of the party to kiss you in the beautiful sunset, the same venue you two had gotten married in. 
He loved you.
------------------------------------------------------------------------------
criminal minds masterlist :)
navigation for my blog :) (criminal minds, obx, the bear, marvel, top gun, the hunger games :)
615 notes · View notes
tenelkadjowrites · 8 months
Text
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.
1K notes · View notes
velocesainz · 28 days
Note
Hi, can you do an angsty fic inspired by “I gotta go my own way” from HSM2. If can either be Charles or Lando or Charlando and they fuck up or something and reader leaves them? Maybe hurt/no comfort? It’s okay if you don’t want to
A/n: this was a very interesting request and it took me quite a while to really get the plot line. Hope you enjoy!
One heart broke six hands bloody
F1 masterlist | Main masterlist | Taglist
Summary: Charles and Lando are in a relationship with reader and they slowly stop paying attention to her and missing important events. The last straw is when they miss your birthday.
Warnings: sad, angstyy, hurt
Pairing: Charles x Lando x reader
Reader pov:
It had been nearly five months since they started acting distant to me.
I don’t know why.
We were so good all together
It was like we completed each other
But recently they’ve really started to distance themselves and ignore me.
Constantly say they have meetings and leave home when I know they don’t drive I’m in contact with their teammates
Were they both cheating on me?
I woke up in our shared bed with nobody by my side.
I went on about my day realising they both had left for some sort of meeting with their respective teams
They returned home late at night completely wasted
“Where were you two? I’ve been worried sick! I called you both so many times, why didn’t you guys pick up?” I questioned
“Oh shut up mom.” Was all Lando said before they both left to go to bed
The next day was one I would usually be excited for but maybe not this year
My birthday
I would usually celebrate it with my two boyfriends but they seem to not want to spend time with me at all
I walked into the kitchen to see them scrolling on Charles’s giggling and whispering to Lando about something. They would do that with me too but I guess not anymore.
“Hey guys, what’s for breakfast?” I asked them seeing they had made their breakfast already
“Oh..we didn’t make you any. We thought you would do it yourself” Charles said
I sighed and went upstairs to get ready, my appetite knocked out by his words
I got dressed and left the house watching them not care
I hung out around Monaco since I had no friends here, just Charles and Lando
It started raining and I was freezing on my way back to our apartment. As I walked in I found them on their game not bothering to focus on anything but that and each other
“Hey I’m back” I announced as best as I could in my feverish voice due to the intense shivering
“Yea yea whatever just make us dinner” Lando said
What is up with them?
“You can do that yourself. In fact you guys should have done it for me at least today of all days”
They looked at me and asked “What are you talking about?”
I give up on these two
“It was my birthday today and you guys didn’t even bother to wish me or spend time with me. You both have been so secretive and distant from and it feels like you have fallen out of love. I’m leaving. I’m not dealing with this shit any longer”
I walked up to my bedroom and started packing the essentials
Charles pov
How did we not realise we were hurting our dearest so much?
We were ignoring her as we were going to propose to her and knew Lando wouldn’t keep his mouth shut if he started talking
We were so stressed about getting the perfect rings that we completely neglected y/n
Me and Lando looked at each other and chased after her to the bedroom to see her packing her things
“Cheri please don’t leave us we apologise for our horrible behaviour” I begged
“We were working on something very important and in that stress we completely neglected we’re extremely sorry” Lando said
“I don’t care for your explanations. My state of mind has not been good thanks to you two and I refuse to worsen it. I’m leaving and that’s final” she said
All our hearts were breaking as she said this. We ruined a beautiful relationship because we cared about materialistic things over our actual love for each other.
Now there was nothing we could do anymore.
She packed her bags and left the apartment telling us not to follow her and we’d broken her heart enough I’m sure she wouldn’t want to listen to us anymore.
One heart broke and left six hands bloody.
A/n: I’m sorry I took super long to finish this request. Hope you enjoyed and make sure to leave feedback! Kissies ✨
Taglist
@grantaires-waistcoat
406 notes · View notes
imaginaryf1shots · 8 months
Text
Fan Favourite Moments | Lewis Hamilton
Words count:
Lewis Hamilton x reader
Summery: just some of the fans favourite moments of you and Lewis.
warning: not edited, none
Masterlist
Tumblr media
Kissing in the rain
This race week is set in Spa and the weather condition isn’t the best, it’s forecasted to rain a lot as you go through weekend, but at the moment it’s sunny. The sun is up that it makes you think that there’s noway it’ll rain but you’ve been to too many races and places to know that. Mother nature is very indecisive with mood swings so bad you want to know if she’s okay. Anyways Lewis hasn’t done his track walk yet, so he went around looking for you, finishing you in a corner in the garage with Susie, she was telling you about her plans with women in sport and what they’re working on to change their role in the sport.
You looked concentrated, you were so into the conversation he almost felt bad for breaking the conversation, but if you wanted to come with him then now’s the best time to go and take advantage of the weather. You were already dressed in running shoes and sports trousers ready for the walk, you talked about the day before.
“Sorry to interrupt, but (y/n) do you wanna come on a track walk with me?” Lewis asked if you changed his mind, that’ll be okay with him even if he wanted you to come. It’s been a couple weeks since you last saw each other because of schedule conflict.  
“Go,go, we’ll continue talking later.” Susie said straight away waving you off. “We spend most of the time together anyway.”
“Okay, but we’re definitely continuing later.” Waving bye to her, you lace your hands with Lewis, as you leave the garage.
“Here I got you this.” Lewis said and gave you a jacket he had in his other hand, you let go of his hand and he helped you put it on, it’s one of his jackets that were waterproof, but provided warmths. 
“Thanks.” You say with a satisfied smile, Lewis smiled down at you, he found you so cute with you engulfed in his jacket looking cosy and warm. Lacing your hands once again you start your walk down the pitlane and the track. It wasn’t the most athletic walk, you were just walking at a slow pace. You were telling Lewis about how his fans turned you into a grid mum online, gathering all the cute moments you had through the years you’ve been with Lewis. You were very animated as you told him about the memes and what not, even showing him a couple that you saved on your phone. It was over halfway through the track that it started to get gloomy and dark. “So much for the sun.”
“To be fair if we walked faster we would’ve been done by now.” Lewis said looking up at the sky as you walked, the clouds were dark and heavy looking.
“True but I like having those slow walks with you, especially when we haven’t seen each other in a long time.” You pout as you say this, Lewis wraps his arm around your shoulder sideways, and yours goes around his middle.
“I do too, you know some would argue that two weeks aren’t that long of a time to not have seen each other.” Lewis said and you shake your head scoffing. “I’m not saying that, because you know I hate spending a day without seeing you.”
“You know that some wou;d argue that that’s not healthy and that this is attachment issues.” You fire back and Lewis laughs, you fight the smile creeping onto your face. “I’m not saying that, I for one love that, my only complain is that sometimes I can’t sleep when you’re not next to me.”
“And you love your sleep.”
“I love my sleep.” you felt it then the first drop hitting your face making you flinch slightly, looking up, it’s like heavens doors just opened and you’re both wet in seconds, pulling up your hood, Lewis does the same, you could see the pitlane from where you walked. “We should hurry up.”
“Wait for a second.” You were confused, Lewis stopped walking and held your wrist to halt your walking before you faced him, he had his head tilted back, eyes closed, clearly enjoying the rain.
“Lew, you can get sick my love.” You warn him thinking of his health. 
“Just a moment.” He answered, your worry visible on your face but he couldn’t see it with his eyes closed. You take in the peaceful look on his face, and find yourself smiling. This Lewis is your favourite Lewis, the one only you and close friends and family get to see. Slowly you move your arms around his middle pressing yourself against him, but your head was back to look at your boyfriend. Lewis opens his eyes and looks at you, water was running down your hoodie and you both were getting wetter and wetter. However you looked so good to him right now, so carefree and smiley. 
So you can't blame him for not resisting, his hand cups your cheek before he's pulling you in for a kiss. You squeak surprised, Lewis is a very private person and isn't big on PDA, so kissing while there are cameras possibly around is usually a thing when he's winning. You don't hesitate once you get over the shock to kiss him back your hands holding his jacket tighter. The kiss doesn't last long, and it isn't a deep kiss but it was filled with love and passion. It left you warm and tingly, with butterflies in your stomach, how he still gives you butterflies after all those years you'll never know. 
Cameras catch the kiss from the pitlane the long lenses capture the moment between you two. And even though you hate how much cameras are always in your face the pictures from that day you have saved on your phone.(maybe even framed in your Monaco house? 
Tumblr media
Training
It really was just a  series of videos he posted to his story.
Story 1. He told his fans that you were going to try and train like him, you could be seen in the background stretching in your gym wear.
Story 2. It was easy, just some cardio, you were all smiley giving the camera thumps up and everything.
Story 3. You move to goblet squats, you’re again doing okay no thumps up but you’re okay.
Story 4. Deadlifts. Of course all the training you’re doing is fitted for your body and your limits, but you don’t really do deadlifts while you’re in the gym. So you’re frowning while LEwis is hyping you up, you managed to do them but sweat is appearing faster and faster now.
Story 5. It starts with you complaining that you can’t even do press ups, much less dumbbell press ups. Yeah… you only managed to do five and Lewis was generous with his counting. 
Story 6. You’re laying on the ground breathing heavily and refusing to move. You glare at Lewis when he tells you what you have to do next. 
Story 7. You’ve given up, sitting on the ground, your back to the wall, knees bent and your water bottle in your hand. Lewis was amused but he praised you for what you’ve done. 
Tumblr media
Helmet kiss
You didn’t mean for it to happen, it wasn’t planned really. But you found yourself kissing Lewis’ helmet every time you were at a race from the start of your relationship. After and before every race it just became something that you always did. He’d have his visor up and you could see his eyes in a smile. It was something for the both of you, for you to show Lewis that you’re proud of him, that you’re there for him, even when he didn’t win or wasn’t on a podium you always kissed his helmet or him to be honest, if there were cameras or there weren't any.
Getting pulled in an interview by the reporter
Media days, usually are the days you spend the most time with Lewis on track. All the time between interviews and breaks he had, it gave you enough time, and you were able to stand with the Merc staff behind camera and watch him.
And so here you are, media day after a week off between racing, Lewis was pulled into an interview in pitlane, you were standing off camera watching him with his PR manager.
“We just saw you last week at Milan fashion week,” The interviewer said, just last week you both were in Milan and attended a few shows and walked a couple red carpets together. “Along with your girlfriend y/n, are times like this you spend destressing or just taking time off away from racing”  
“I mean yeah, it’s always fun to spend time away and have a break and it’s something we’re both interested in.” Lewis kept it short and sweet, but the interviewer had other things on her mind.
“You both looked amazing, actually we have y/n here.” She said and the camera turned around and panned to you, you had a startled look on your face for a split second before you smiled and waved to the camera. “Come here y/n, come on.”
Timidly you walked to your boyfriend’s open arm, you wrapped an arm around his waist, while his rested on your back. 
“y/n tell us, you spend so much time on the road with Lewis, what is something that you both like to do that helps you take a break from formula 1?”
“Uh, I don’t know, because once we’re off track we usua;;y just do something fun and don’t think much about formula 1.” You looked at Lewis for confirmation and he gave you a smile of encouragement. “It’s our way of not letting it consume us, and I do a lot of my work on the road as well, so we just have time off around the races and do something we like.” 
“That’s lovely, it’s great to have some stability in each other, lewis?”
“Definitely, having y/n with me gives me a sense of stability, and just having her with me helps me a lot.” You just couldn’t fight the smile on your face hearing his words, because you both sacrificed so much for his job, and if there is ever moments where you’d think maybe it’s too much or you can’t push back any of the things you want in life, you remember how happy you are with him and how sacrificing some things is okay, every relationship has some sacrifices and you’re okay with that. The highs are really good and you’ve managed to go through all the lows together, the support you have for the other is really one of the foundations to your relationship.
Tumblr media
Driving
It’s a well known and documented fact that you can drive, and you love driving and that you’re actually a very good driver. But no matter what you’re not a super car driver. Mercedes thought it’ll be good idea to film a video of you driving a car in Silverstone, with Lewis in the passenger seat before you switch. 
You’re not used to being in those kind of things, yes you have sealed with your fair share of paparazi and media but not in a video where you had to be miked up and everything. So you were a little nervous, Lewis saw your eyes as they ran over all the cameras and filming crew, your eyes were the only indication that you were nervous. Walking up to you he smiles, you were dressed in a Mercedes race suit, matching his. Even your helmet was the same as his, he had it made for you. 
“Are you okay?” Lewis asked you, shielding you away from everyone’s view. 
“Yeah, just a little nervous.” You mumbled and pouted as you looked up at your man leaning into him slightly, Lewis pulled you in for a hug.
“It’s okay, the moment you want to end this and not film just tell me and we’ll end it.” Lewis reassured you, he wouldn't want to pressure you into doing anything you didn’t want to do. 
“No, I’m powering through this, nerves never stopped me before.” You winked at him and smiled, you remembered the first time you met Lewis how nervous he made you it almost made it hard to talk to him but you pushed the nerves aside and talked to him and here you are now, so happily in love. 
You got called to start filming, both Lewis and you stood next to each other in front of the camera, as someone introduced you.
“Driving with Lewis is his girlfriend, (y/n) (l/n)!” You smiled and nodded to the camera trying to keep your cool, Lewis placed a comforting hand on your back. “(Y/n) will take a turn driving around the track first before they switch and Lewis will drive.”
“Am I allowed an out lap to get the track?” YOu asked raising a hand, you’ve walked it before with Lewis, but you haven’t drove it.
“Sure.”
With that you got in the driver’s side and LEwis in the passenger. “This is familiar.” You say once you were in, meaning that you almost always drive when it’s the two of you. 
“Let’s go!” Lewis was excited, he wanted to see what you got. You never sped up or drove over the speed limit, so seeing you driving fast is going to be something new to him. 
“You have to give me some tips.” YOu said as you turned on the car and started driving, you were taking it easy not fast and not slow, a happy 80km/h. Lewis then pointed to where you should break where you can speed up. Once you had a lap around the track, your actual lap started. 
Speeding up, you were so focused on the road in front of you. “Break here, here.”
“You go, love.” “Speed up!” “Babe that was amazing.”
You laughed as you slowed down for the end of the lap, Lewis held his palm up and you high fived him. “We should get you a seat at Mercedes.”
“Shut up… this was super fun.” You said unbuckling your seat belt and opened the door before you two switched places. 
“Ready?” 
“Ready.” 
You were not ready, Lewis pressed his foot down on the paddle and off you were.
“Oh my god, oh my god, oh my god!” For some reason you didn’t expect the car to go that fast. At least not that fast straight away. You clutched the door and the seat tightly your knuckles turned white. Lewis was laughing. “Lewis!”
“Hold tight.” He said before he pulled the handbrake and turned, your body was pushed to the side of the car, making you scream. 
“Lewis, lewis, lewis, babe, please-aaah.” He was showing off, he was, breaking late, accelerating faster, using the car as if he was racing and in his F1 car.
“Okay, okay.” He slowed down for a bit, and you sighed in relief, Lewis looked at you grinning.
“I’m not going to even tell you to look at the road.” You muttered shaking your head, Lewis laughed before pressing his foot down and once again you went flying down the track. 
By the end of the TWO laps, you knew one thing for certain. “This is why I drive us around and not you.” 
Tumblr media
Road-trip 
It's a well known fact that Lewis hates driving when he's not racing, He's said it before a million times. So all the cars the both of you own are basically your cars. Lewis is a passenger princess and you absolutely love it. 
Even though you have your own money and make a good living, Lewis loves spoiling you and doing everything in his power to make it so you need nothing, craving some dessert you have in Italy you got it. Saw some bag in the passing and asked him what he thinks about it, you got it. Want to try a new hobby, you got the top of the art supplies. Anywhere you want to just think it and he'll book it straight away. Its not that you can't do all that, he just loves spoiling you, simple as that. And its not to say that you don't spoil him as well, but there's something about driving him around that makes you so happy. 
"Let's go princess." You called out the car, the windows were down, and Lewis was checking that you had everything you needed before you hit the road. The GPS was already set up, your sunglasses were on and you were itching to get going. 
"Haha, just making sure we have everything." Lewis said before he got in the car, he had his glasses on, you both were dressed very casually, you'll be in the car for a while so looks weren't important. "You look so happy." 
You couldn't help the smile on your face as you pulled from the building. "Yeah, you know I've been wanting to do this for a couple years now."
"I'm glad you're happy." Lewis said with a smile. They can now relax after a long season flying and being everywhere, Lewis thoughts its the best time to have a road trip from your home in Monaco to the UK. As much as Lewis hates driving on normal road with normal speeds you love it, this idea has been on your mind for years, so the moment Lewis suggested that you do it you jumped at the chance. 
Driving through France and seeing the country from a different perspective than what the both of you are used to, and just spending time with him away from everyone else for a few days.
The music was on and you both had your windows down and singing softly along to the music. Lewis took a few photos of you, he couldn’t help but wanting to document the trip.
You guys made the 14 hour drive into a three or four day drive, spending afew hours on the road, before staying in a hotel/inn and going around sight-seeing. Both of you were severely underdressed than your usual selves, sporting sunglasses and hats to keep a low profile. Your hard effort did in fact pay off, no one was the wiser, and having a less known name than Lewis everything was booked under your name.
Lewis did post a few things on his insta story, making the fans go crazy. 
The first story he posted was from where you were singing, your hair flying everywhere, and he was hyping you up, the video ended with you both laughing. Both sounding and looking so happy.
The second picture was a selfie of himself enjoying being a passenger prince. He captioned the picture with a best passenger❤️
The second day you posted a picture of Lewis changing one of the tires, followed by a short video showing you in the middle of the countryside, with nothing to be seen around you. Honestly all of the content the fans were fed during the trip was enough to keep them satisfied for a while, before they were starved once again.
Lewishamilton
Tumblr media Tumblr media
caption: here we go!!
replies disabled
urusername
Tumblr media
caption: my fav view
Lewishamilton
Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media
liked by landonoriss, sebastianvettel and 21,197,009 others
lewishamilton A trip I'll always remeber
tagged: urusername
Tumblr media
Matching Outfits
these...
Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media
1K notes · View notes
emmyrosee · 2 months
Note
So Urm just a thought u got any…. Deep non curse sukuna angst I think it’s a good day to cry.
-anon🥢
Sukuna is nothing if not self sabotaging.
Things with you have been good. Borderline perfect; you’re the missing piece to the life he’s cursed to live, where he’s always self aware of his weaknesses and takes them out on those around him. There is no blessing, not when all he does it hurt. It’s a miracle yuuji and choso deal with his shit enough, he knows they should’ve dropped him off the face of the earth with the pain he causes.
Now, it seems, it’s your turn.
Your turn to be on the receiving end of his fury, his rage and heartbreak, your only chance to escape being to leave him; maybe that’s all he wants: you to leave him.
He stopped calling you. Stopped answering texts. When his brothers and parents ask about you, he merely stays silent, opting against making you sound more divine than they know you are.
You’re perfect. You’re not for him.
Theres a pounding on the door that goes unanswered by everyone in the house, and he groans as he gets up to answer it, only to reveal your frame in the door.
You look distraught. You’re angry, he can see that in your eyes, there’s a betrayal buried deep in them. Your face holds a scowl and your breathing picks up at the sight of him.
“You’ve been avoiding me.”
Sukuna rolls his eyes and walks away from the open door, knowing you’ll follow him no matter what. “So?”
“So?” You ask, offended. “You and I are supposed to be in love, supposed to be partners in crime-“
“Im hearing a lot of ‘supposed to be,’ and not a lot of ‘have to be’” he snaps. He hears you take a breath to say something, but you don’t. He screws his eyes shut. “Get over it. I didn’t sign a contract with my blood saying I have to come to your every beck and call.”
“Sukuna. Stop.”
“Stop what?”
“Being an asshole,” you say firmly. “Let me in. I’m here. What’s going on?”
“I’m sick of you.”
At his blunt words, you gasp, and sukuna feels the bile rise up his throat. He’ll do anything though. Anything to make you stop loving him. “What…?”
“I’m sick. Of you,” he echos. “You checking up on me, demanding we go out, flaunting me off to your friends like I’m some damn trophy-“
“Because I love you!” You hiss. “I want to show you off, make the world see how lucky I am to have you!”
“‘Show me off?’” He cackles, spinning on his heel to face you. “There’s nothing to show. I am nothing to you. You, are nothing to me.”
You reel back at his words, waterline swelling with tears as you are wounded by his words. “You think because I take you out on a few dates, we kissed a little and I held that little hand of yours, that you’re anything special to me?” He shakes his head with a cruel chuckle, “I’ve done that to every broad I’ve ever been with. You’re not special. Never were anything more than a body to me.”
You puff out your chest like an animal trying to protect itself, “then what about the nights we cuddled?” You demand. “What about our late night trips to McDonald’s or 7/11? What about the nights you cried in my chest about your miseries and hardships, and I carded your hair and cradled you close to my body?”
“What about them!” He yells, the cracks in his confidents breaking. Those moments mean the world to him, and for him to now force you to use them against him has his blood running cold. “Yeah, I let you see the softer bits of me. Who cares?”
“I do!” You wail. “Because it made me think, for one second, that we could be something special! Something we earned and worked for together!”
“I think you forget,” he snarls, “I lived a fine life without you in it. We can go right fucking back the minute you started thinking this bullshit.”
You flinch at the harshness of his words. It’s working. Sukuna feels it. The love you have for him dwindling, the connection being frayed and severed with every pass of his words-
“Then do it,” you whisper. “If your life was so great loveless, then go back. But just know, I’ll never stop loving you. Ever. You’ll never have the peace of the freedom of heartbreak when it comes to me.”
With that, you take a step back, followed by another, but your eyes never leave his. Your bottom lip wobbles and you grab your coat over the back of his chair. He watches as you cover your mouth with your hand before dashing out, slamming the door behind you and leaving a trail of tears. His eyes are fixed on the door that’s finally stopped shaking on its hinges from the slam, as if waiting for you to sweep back in and demand his love, demand him to care and want you back.
But it doesn’t come. You don’t come back.
He can’t fight the urge to swipe everything off the counter with his arms in a fury, plates and cups flying off and shattering under the force. He pants like a voracious beast, angry and predatory, but he’s grounded as he steps on a shard of crystal from his mom’s wine glass.
And now, rather than chase you down the street, begging for your forgiveness, he sits down, using his hands to pick up the bigger shards. There’s an unfamiliar trickling down his cheek of hot tears, one splatters to the floor, and that’s it. Sukuna, with the monster he worked so hard to keep at bay, ruins another paradise in his life.
He cries alone.
All alone.
728 notes · View notes
loveinhawkins · 1 year
Text
When Lucas Sinclair starts to apologise for missing The Cult of Vecna, Eddie initially thinks that he’s hearing things.
Well, actually, the first thing he thinks is something along the lines of ‘what the fuck are you talking about?’
It takes him almost a solid thirty seconds to even vaguely remember his campaign; the last day of school before Spring Break feels dreamlike, as if it happened to someone else, as if he just watched everything through a fogged-up window.
“Jesus, Sinclair. I’ve got an ongoing list of folks who owe me an apology since, like, sixth grade, and trust me, your name’s not on there. Can pretty confidently say it never will, okay?”
Eddie sees Steve tilt his head ever so slightly from where he’s walking just ahead of them, like he’s listening in. Spots his faint nod of approval.
Eddie can’t decide if he resents it or finds it endearing—kind of gets the ridiculous feeling that Steve’s vetting him on behalf of the kids.
“Okay,” Lucas says, and he’s smiling, but there’s a sort of sombreness to it, too. “Still, I should’ve—”
“Hey, hindsight’s twenty-twenty,” Eddie says, firmly cutting off whatever self-critical bullshit he was about to hear. He knocks his shoulder against Lucas’s, adds a dry, “Like, I would’ve been a dick about it no matter what.”
Lucas laughs, but it’s muted. Then he takes a deep breath, and Eddie suddenly realises that he must’ve been using the apology to get himself started, to work himself up to what he really wanted to say.
“I’m… I’m sorry about… about Jason and… I thought I’d thrown them all off the trail, but—”
“Oh, don’t—don’t worry about it, man,” Eddie says faintly.
There’s a flash of Jason in his mind’s eye, the savage twist of his lip as he ran into the lake; he thinks of Lucas lying to his face, the danger of him being found out, and feels sick.
“Seriously, you could’ve told them… y’know. Wouldn’t have held it against you.”
Eddie doesn’t mention that him getting caught still feels inevitable, like he’s just waiting for the walls to close in.
But right now, at least, he can breathe a little easier. The shire might be burning, but there’s people leading him through it. He’s not alone.
Lucas looks appalled. “What? No, I couldn’t—I couldn’t do that to you.”
It’s said with such conviction that Eddie has to fight through a sudden tightness in his throat—doesn’t really know what to do in the face of such undeserved loyalty.
He settles on saying, “So, how was the game?” which is embarrassingly inadequate, but a genuine question nevertheless; the past few… Jesus, however long it’s been, he’s been in permanent need of a distraction.
Steve slows his walking pace—to anyone else it might’ve seemed subtle, but Eddie’s used to noticing such things. He somehow gets the feeling that Steve is no longer scrutinising him, not exactly; his posture’s relaxed and open, his forehead free of frown lines.
It’s more like he’s simply curious about Eddie’s behaviour. The way his eyes drift over, then down to the forest floor, then back again silently seems to say what are you thinking?
Or maybe Eddie’s projecting because he asks the very same question whenever a muscle jumps in Steve’s jaw.
“Oh, um…” Lucas says hesitantly. “I was on the bench for most of it, so—”
“Quit being modest.” The quiet whir of a tape being rewound; Max Mayfield comes up to Lucas’s side. “He made the winning shot,” she tells Eddie pointedly. “It was a buzzer-beater.”
“Oh, holy shit. Well done, dude.”
From the way Lucas is staring at Max with wide eyes, it’s obvious that he’s barely registered what Eddie’s said.
“How do you know that?” he asks. “You… you weren’t at the game.”
“I, uh.” Max looks down for a moment, fiddling with the headphones around her neck. “I listened to it on the radio.”
Lucas smiles so brightly. There’s an earnestness to him; Eddie spotted it a mile away, ever since that first day back at school, when all the new freshmen were anxiously lining up to get lunch.
Max softens—her arms are still folded, but she drifts a little closer to Lucas as they walk, all studied casualness.
(Oh, Eddie’s been there before: forced to run track in middle school Phys Ed, and the only saving grace was ‘just so happening’ to run at the same pace as any boy who’d smile at him.)
Eddie catches Steve’s eye, and this time Steve gives him a very deliberate expression, nodding fondly at Max and Lucas.
Look at them, he’s saying with his eyes, as if he and Eddie are on the same team, as if Eddie at all deserves to be let in on whatever shared history Steve has with these kids.
Eddie kicks at a stray twig. You’re not going to get a lump in your throat about this, damn it, don’t be stupid.
“S’gonna be historic, Sinclair,” he says. “Last time the Tigers won a championship was, uh, lemme think… twenty-two years ago.”
Lucas stops in his tracks.
“I know that,” he says, eyes shrewd, “but why do you know?”
Eddie raises his hands with a grin, it wasn’t me, officer. “What, I can’t repeat a few years without retaining a little school knowledge?”
“Oh,” Lucas says, and it’s like Eddie can see him mentally replaying every cafeteria speech. He grins back. “So you’re a hypocrite.”
“Maybe,” Eddie says. He glances further afield, where Dustin is animatedly explaining something to Robin and Nancy. “I know you’re not gonna give me shit for it, though.”
“Huh, guess you don’t really know me,” Lucas says, and Max snorts.
Eddie smirks. “And it’s, like, doubly historic since the last person to score a buzzer-beater was—”
He cuts himself off, because Steve abruptly turns to him, like they’re in alliance, and draws a hand sharply across his neck.
But Lucas is already hooked. “What? Who was it?”
Eddie gives Steve a helpless shrug. Sorry, man.
“I’m looking right at him,” he says.
Lucas rounds on Steve. “Why didn’t you say anything?”
“Because,” Steve says, flustered, “that was your thing, Lucas, I didn’t wanna be all…”
He trails off with a vague hand gesture, and Eddie thinks he somehow gets what he means—smiles at the thoughtfulness of it.
“That makes, like, no sense,” Lucas says vehemently. His eyes practically have stars in them. “Damn it, we shoulda got a photo.”
Steve laughs in surprise. “All right, noted.”
“I mean, Wheeler works for the school paper, right?” Eddie says. “They’ve probably got old issues. Hey, Sinclair, you could have, y’know, side-by-side photos. Yours and then…” He waves a hand at Steve. “Ancient history.”
Steve rolls his eyes. “Ancient, sure.”
“Oh, Lucas,” Max says, batting her eyes excessively, “I’d frame a picture of you. Pray to it every night.”
Lucas blushes. “Shut up,” he says, elbowing her gently; Eddie thinks that it’s the first time he’s heard Max Mayfield laugh.
Steve’s watching over them again, and his eyes go pensive when Lucas mumbles something like, “I wouldn’t mind a frame.”
The expression Steve has is something Eddie’s only seen once before, and it was on Wayne’s face. Eddie had privately dubbed it the ‘found something for your birthday’ look when he’d noticed it: him and Wayne on a road trip, Eddie not so secretly mooning over the secondhand acoustic guitar in the shop window.
“Your picture should be bigger, Sinclair,” Steve says, sounding both teasing and sincere. “My shot didn’t win a Championship Game.” In an undertone, he adds, “As Brenda so helpfully reminded me.”
Oh, Eddie’s not letting that go.
“Do mine ears deceive me? Did you take a date to a high school basketball game?” Eddie cackles. “You sure know how to woo ‘em, Harrington.”
“Hey,” Steve says defensively, “she could only make that day. Told her I had non-negotiable plans: it was either the game or it was a bust.”
Huh, Eddie thinks, that’s actually… really sweet.
Lucas looks torn between being embarrassed or touched. “You didn’t need to do that, Steve.”
“Sure I did. C’mon, you thought I was gonna go to every match and then miss the Championship?” Steve’s eyebrows furrow. “Where was Erica, anyway?”
… Ah.
“Mea culpa,” Eddie says. “She was, uh, at Hellfire.”
Lucas scoffs. “It’s fine,” he says. “Last time she was at a game, she kept shouting that she loved my tactics.” He looks out into the middle distance. “I was on the bench the whole time.”
Steve chuckles. “Yeah, I missed her being there.” He’s sporting a smile that’s somehow the perfect balance of fond and mischievous; it, quite frankly, has no business looking as attractive as it does. “We had, um, alternative commentary for every game. That kid should have a radio show.” He comes closer, adds in another aside, “Would’ve made the date more bearable if she was there.”
Eddie stifles a laugh, has a moment of respectful silence for Brenda.
Max and Lucas cut in front, keep walking until they’re almost out of earshot; Eddie hears Lucas faintly say something that sounds like, “Was I totally tubular?”, soon drowned out by Max’s laughter.
There’s a short silence.
“Thanks, Eddie,” Steve says suddenly.
Eddie blinks at him, quickly turns his genuine confusion into a bit. “What for, Harrington? My devastating wit? Devilish good looks?”
Steve shakes his head. He smiles for a moment, in on the joke, but then he looks over at Lucas and Max again, and… there.
A muscle jumps in his jaw.
“It’s just… they’ve got a lot to carry, y’know? So…” He shrugs. “Thanks.”
It’s said so quietly, so without fanfare.
Eddie’s hit with the realisation between one footstep and the next: that he’s earned Steve Harrington’s trust.
It feels… weighty.
But Eddie doesn’t mind it; he doesn’t think it’s going to crush his ribs. If anything it feels like they’re sharing a load.
“Don’t gotta thank me for that, Harrington.”
Steve smiles, pushing back his hair; Eddie’s brought back to the moment he did the very same on the basketball court, just as the ball sunk through the net, and Eddie decided fuck it, wholeheartedly embracing his hypocrisy as he jumped up and down with the band kids.
I cheered so goddamn loud for you, Eddie thinks.
He doesn’t say it.
But he keeps walking next to Steve. Feels a little young, a little bit like he’s running track—checking his pace just so he could see a boy smile at him.
3K notes · View notes
igotanidea · 10 months
Text
five more minutes: Dick Grayson x fem!reader
Tumblr media
I'm (not) sorry, but that smug face fits right into this fanfiction!!
request/summary: Dick getting clingy when the reader needs to go somewhere
A/N: so, I think I'm back? Two weeks break and I'm getting into the swing of things again, so please go easy on me with this story......
***
When she wakes up in the morning something seems off almost instantly.
It only takes a second to realise that said thing took the form of Dick Grayson, her beloved boyfriend, the man by day and the fearless vigilante by night. The protector of Gotham and its people.
Well, if only the people could see him now.
Sleeping in a weird position with the imprint of the pillow on his cheek, messy hair and some dried saliva in the corner of his mouth.
He so cute and adorable like that. Y/N does the quick scan of his face and body in the search for any injuries he might have obtained during the patrol but her heart rests easy when she noticed him being all in one piece with no blood or stiches. Either it was a quiet and peaceful night or he already took care of himself. Her bets are the latter, but since it’s work day she doesn’t really have any time to wait until he wakes up to blame him for not being careful.
As quiet and swift as she can, Y/N tries to move out of bed, but since Dick’s senses are heightened she doesn’t really get far, when his arms wraps around her, keeping her in place.
“Dick……” she mutters
“Mhmmmm……” he mumbles into the pillow
“Come on, I have get  up!”
“no you don’t.”
“I gotta get to work!”
“I’m the only work you need……” he grins, still half-asleep, but so full of himself and she almost rolls her eyes at the joke
“God, please stop…. I need to earn money you know? Not all of us have a billionaire daddy!”
“You’re dating the billionaire oldest son, isn’t that enough?”
She wonders for a moment. On a second thought maybe it is. Dick seems to use that heartbeat of hesitation, shifting his body weight on her, pinning her to bed, his eyes still closed, but this little shit knows exactly what he’s doing.
“Dick!” she gasps feeling all those muscles crush her “shit!
“I like it when you call my name in such a desperate words. Do it just one more time and the neighbours will hate you forever.” He chuckles and his makes her skin tingle.
You’re heavy…..” she squirms trying to break free, but it’s no use. “You brought it on yourself….” The girl mutters poking on his ribs in the place where he’s extremely sensitive because of an old injury.
“Hey!” he yells, trying to defend himself and letting go off her in the process.
Y/N is quick to jump out of bed and rush towards her wardrobe, grabbing her jeans and t-shirt and struggling to put them on.
“Not so fast!” Dick tears her clothes from her hands and holds them high out of reach.
“Not fair Grayson!”
“You called me fat.”
“I called you heavy!’
“Same thing!”
“It’s not….. You know what, fine. I’ll just wear something else….” She shrugs and runs towards the drawer, but before she could reach it Dick grabs her from behind and holds her tight to him
“Dick…….” She whines stretching out just to grab something to wear. Anything.
“I know. I’m irresistible.”
“A pain in the ass is what you are!”
“I can make you breakfast….” He tempts
“You’re not Jason, Dick. Making me breakfast means putting cereals In the bowl and poring some milk over it in your dictionary. Cold milk. And that is only if I bought both cereals and milk.”
“did you?”
“Yeah, I did.”
“Can’t you see how hard I’m trying? Just for you. Come on, you are like an employee  of the month. Or even a year. Stay…..” he kisses her neck playfully “you can call in sick.”
“I used all my sick days because of you.”
“How about casual leave?”
“and what may be the emergency?” she sighs in defeat, her body going limp as she drops the fighting knowing well enough she won’t win it. “Clingy boyfriend?”
“You called me boyfriend!” he grins again and she facepalms herself.
“We’ve been together for a year Dick. Why do you seem surprised?”
“I could never get bored with hearing that word from you. Makes me proud that you’re mine.”
“trying to sweet talk me? Won’t work. By the way, you are soooooo cheesy Grayson.”
“And?” he asks
“ And? What and?”  at this point Y/N is confused, her eyebrows furrowing as she turns to meet his gaze
“And you love me?” he insist, spinning her around in his arms so that he can get easy access to her kissable face.
“Yeah…..” she smiles dreamily “yeah, I do love you, you idiot” she trails with a love sick puppy expression. But it doesn’t mean I’m gonna stay and be you babysi…..ah! Put me down!” she yells suddenly feeling her body lift of the ground without her knowledge or will. “Put me down Grayson! What are you……?! Damn it…!”
Dick does not listen or does not get impressed by her poor attempts to break free. He’s Nightwing. He’s got so many ways to immobilise the opponent. Or, in this case, lover.
“Dick I swear I am going to kick your ass if you don’t….!” the threat dies on her lips as he throws her onto the mattress and kisses her softly shutting her up in the process.
“Stay?” he pouts looking at her with those pretty doe eyes “Pretty please?”
“You act like a five year old!”
“A five year old that wants you. A five year old that misses you…”
“I’ll be back, you know……” she brush the strand of hair from his face. She’s already gone but still tries to keep the appearances.
“Yeah, at 6 p.m. or later. It’s almost the time when I get ready for my night shift…… Please…..”he whines nuzzling his nose over her neck “stay…..”
“please…..” she mimics his whining, caressing his cheek “let me go……”
“But I need you…….” He hide his face in her belly and his hair tickle
“Why do you always need me when I am supposed to go to work?’
“It’s a terrible and uncontrollable disease…..” he laughs
“Is there a cure?” she laughs back
“I can think of something….” He closes the gap between them, nibbling on her bottom lip. “and it may be working…. But I;m not sure. Need some more testing” he repeats his action. “Mhm, yes, it’s definitely working… You don’t want me to be sick, do you?”
“Not really. You are whiny and attention seeker when you are sick.”
“I am not!” he shouts in denial “ok, maybe I am. A little. But come on, you can stay some more time with me……”
“How long, dickie?” she smiles at him, playing with the hair at the nape of his neck.
“five more minutes?”
“ok. Five more minutes. She sighs deeply, letting go of any of her objections, letting Dick lay beside her and act like a big spoon, while holding her tight to his chest and caressing her sides and belly.
“You’re not letting me go, are you?” she whispers closing her eyes and getting lost in his touch.
“Never.”
And she’s pretty sure she can live with that.  
1K notes · View notes
dtfpeta · 11 months
Text
Feverish | Ghost x Fem Reader
Tags: sick!simon, sub!simon, dry humping, p in v sex, penetration
Summary: Simon is sick and thinks he knows how to break a fever with the help of his girlfriend
Word count: 1.4k
Read here on ao3! __________
He only had a small cold. Or at least, what was a small cold. And of course he acted like a helpless animal, asking you to feed him, bring him an assortment of medicines, and help him walk to the bathroom where he would then, ask you to bathe him. A cheeky smile that he hardly tried to hide displaying on his face.
You of course, didn’t mind caring for your afflicted boyfriend.
“You can’t take another Benadryl, Simon. You just had one.” Simon always prided himself on his flawless immune system. Now that his body has been compromised by harmful bacteria he wasn’t sure what to do with himself. But thank god he had you. For the past two days all he could do was mumble and groan from the couch. Exasperated “ehhgg’s” and whines of sickness filling the living room as the over 6 foot man struggled to lift his arms, begging for your help with the remote.
That’s why it surprised you to feel the searing warmth of his arms wrap around your waist as you stood in the kitchen. Your working hands coming to a stop on the meal you were preparing.
“Si- You’ve already contaminated our living room! I’ll be damned if I’m next…” You argued while attempting to shrug out of his grasp, finding your efforts ineffective. Over the past couple days you had made a valiant effort to sanitize the house and frequently wash your hands. You know Simon would take care of you if you fell sick, but you also knew that the idea of wallowing in the two of yous illness together was appealing to him as well.
“Mm, needa break this fever-” He murmured while burying his face into the crook of your neck. Laying hot kisses in his wake.
“Then let me make you a cup of tea. Or go take a warm shower don’t-!” His hands began to roam your body. Grasping at the skin of your stomach before moving to knead at your chest.
“Not what I had in mind” His words came out breathless. Whether that was because of his aroused state, his clogged sinuses, or both, you weren’t sure. But the needy grips his calloused hands laid on your body began to have an effect on you.
“You can go a few days can’t you?” Simon responded with an unconcerned hum, a low groan soon leaving the back of his throat as he grabbed your hips. Grinding his half hard erection against the flesh of your ass.
“You’ve been so good t’me. Can you help me some more?” His fingers dug deeper into your flesh, rutting the length of his bulge languidly against your backside. “Please.” He whined.
His hand came up to your neck, his index and thumb taking your chin and turning your face to meet his. It was too late to save yourself when his lips met yours, his tongue greedily working the wet room of your mouth as his hands massaged your breasts.
You sighed into the kiss, accepting the hunger that overtook you as well as the heat that gathered between your thighs. You soon gasped into Simon’s embrace as he was now turning you to face him, one hand resting on the back of your thigh as the other moved behind you. Haphazardly pushing the cutting board to the side so he could swiftly lift to place you on top of the counter. The cold stone of the counter caused you to arch your back as you pushed your chest into Simon, who now hurried to remove your top and bra. Exposing your hard nipples to the cold of the air that had previously worked to cool Simon’s fever, which only proved to be a futile attempt as the crimson on his cheeks only grew.
Simon pulled your waist so his erection could meet your clothed core. His eyes hung low with a fevered lust as you moved your hips to work against him. The both of you moaning as Simon hung his head forward between your chest, releasing sinful whimpers as he urgently rutted into you.
“Need ya’. Now” He demanded. Your brain began to cloud with its own brand of Simon induced fog. He was so desperate that you only wanted to provide for him.
Your boyfriend hooked his fingers around the waistband of your shorts pulling them down alongside your damp underwear to your ankles. Kicking them to the floor as he lowered his boxers and sweatpants, Simon revealed his hard cock, the tip smeared with a bead of pre-cum that you reached to run your fingers against.
He shuddered at the sudden attention from your delicate touch. His body was practically on fire. Having to separate himself from you only caused him to become pent up, needy for any attention that you would provide his weeping cock. Your hand wrapped around his length as you stroked him with expertise. Heavy breaths flooded the room. He placed his hands on the edge of the counter to steady himself as you worked his shaft. Your left hand came to cradle the side of his face. ‘Poor thing’
You twisted your hand around him, your thumb swirling the sensitive skin of his head as you whispered in his ear. “Is this helping you hun?”
His head nodded fiercely against your neck. “Mmm Mhm, thank you-” His delicious whines filled your ears as he began to lightly shake. Your own sex was becoming neglected when your left hand lifted his face so his eyes could meet yours.
“Can I fuck you,” he near but begged. “I can take care of you too.” His lips connected with yours for a passionate kiss. Butterflies spread in the pit of your stomach at his adoration for you. It wasn’t often he got like this but when he did you happily let him succumb to his urges. He parted his mouth from yours, a string of saliva connecting to your now glossy lips, and Simon still pumping himself into your hand. “Make you feel good.” He enticed.
You nodded your head when he took the head of his cock to swipe between your folds. Circling the slickened tip around your swollen clit and dragging it back in between your folds. His hands came to rest softly against your lower waist, thumbs digging into the crest between your thighs and torso. He began to push his length into your hot walls, his eyes closing to keep him from cumming right then and there.
“F-fuck” He sputtered pushing himself deeper into your core.
“Simon, please” Your legs lifted to wrap your calfs around his back. Your heels now digging into his ass to encourage his strokes. Simon got the message and pushed the rest of his cock into your begging cunt. Engulfing him with a boiling heat as you began adjusting to his size. He began to move in and out of you. His eyes locked to yours as he provided your pussy with slow, hard thrusts.
Each slap of his skin against yours elicited a moan from your lips that he returned with animalistic grunts of his own. 2 days too many away from your perfect cunt, and he was never a man of patience.
Your pussy squelched as he dragged the full length of his cock out of you before bottoming out again. His hand moved to the back of your head, bringing you in for a messy kiss while the other moved to your clit. Simon was amazed he had even lasted this long and as his orgasm began to approach its horizon he worked to bring yours to as well. You gasped into the kiss. His hand quickening its assault as his thrusts entered you at a new angle. Simon pistoning his cock against the patch of nerves that lay within your walls, your hold on him beginning to tighten as he talked you through your imminent climax.
“Cum on my cock pretty girl. I know you need it. I need it.” His words came out in a gravel like tone. He couldn’t hold it in any longer when your cunt began to spasm around his shaft, milking his own release from him as the coil in your stomach snapped. You threw your head back, your mouth falling agape as Simon growled against your neck. His hot seed filled you with a satiating intensity.
“So,” your breathing now labored, “So good Si.” Your hand came to massage the back of scalp as he littered your neck with kisses.
It wouldn’t be until another 2 days when he denied his involvement in your oncoming fever. His own having been broken when he suggested a new at home remedy to cure you.
2K notes · View notes