#BACK IN MY DAY YOU COULD JUST GO TO A STORE AND RUMMAGE THROUGH A BARGAIN BIN TO PICK A GAME BASED ON HOW EDGY AND ANIME THE CHARACTERS LOO

[blackcatanna]

I remember being excited when Fire Emblem Awakening came out back in 2012 because, although I couldn't afford it and knew I wouldn't be able to for a while, I thought that the price would go down eventually and I had loved Radiant Dawn so much (after picking it up second hand at a game store) that I didn't mind waiting. FLASH FORWARD OVER TEN BLOODY YEARS AND THE PRICE STILL HASN'T DROPPED AND ALL THE OTHER GAMES ARE ALSO ABSURDLY EXPENSIVE (not that I even have a Switch, just my beloved 3DS). SIGH. At least I still have my Wii and copy of Radiant Dawn for when I need to get my Fire Emblem fix... I CERTAINLY CAN NEVER PLAY THE FIRST PART OF THE STORY (Path of Radiance) LEGITIMATELY THOUGH BECAUSE PEOPLE ARE NOW SELLING IT FOR £200 ON EBAY X_X Good for them, I guess XD Maybe it's time to finally try making an emulator work...

[pucksandpower]

The Girlfriend Test

Lando Norris x girlfriend!Reader

Summary: no new LN merch is deemed ready for sale unless it passes the girlfriend test (or in which you are Lando’s favorite hoodie thief and the sight of another driver’s brand on you drives him just a little bit crazy)

You hear the front door open and close, followed by the sounds of Lando rummaging around in the entryway. “Babe, I’m home!” He calls out.

You’re curled up on the couch in his latest hoodie design, a soft charcoal grey number with black sleeves and his LN logo embroidered over the heart.

“In here!” You reply. Lando comes into the living room and smiles when he sees you wearing his new creation.

“Well hello there, hoodie thief,” he says, leaning down to give you a quick peck on the lips before flopping down on the couch next to you. “So I see you found my newest sample.”

You grin and snuggle further into the super soft fleece. “I don’t know what you’re talking about. This is my hoodie now.”

Lando laughs and tugs lightly on the hood. “Oh is it now? I could’ve sworn this was a prototype I brought home from my design meeting a few days ago.”

“Nope, definitely mine,” you say cheekily. “It’s so cozy I don’t think I can ever take it off.”

“In that case, I guess it passes the girlfriend test with flying colors,” Lando declares. At your confused look, he elaborates. “Oh, I never told you about the girlfriend test? I can’t launch a new LN design until you have stolen it out of my closet. That’s how I know for sure it’s comfy enough for my fans.”

You raise an eyebrow in amusement. “You’re telling me every hoodie so far has passed this supposed test?”

“You got it,” Lando grins. “I’ll leave the samples laying around and if you end up snagging one and wearing it all the time, I know it’s prime merchandise.”

You think back and realize it’s true — Lando’s hoodies have a habit of migrating into your wardrobe. The papaya one is your go-to for grocery store runs. The tie-dye version is your favorite for lazy Sundays. Even the bold purple hoodie he released last month has already earned a permanent place on your desk chair.

“So you mean to tell me this was all part of your master plan?” You ask in mock offense. “And here I thought I was sneakily stealing your comfiest clothes.”

“Baby, if I really didn’t want you wearing my stuff, I wouldn’t make it so tempting to take,” Lando says sincerely, wrapping an arm around you. “But it makes me so happy to see you in my designs, wearing my brand.”

You cuddle into his shoulder. “That’s really sweet, babe.”

“Anything for my number one fan and favorite hoodie model,” he says, planting a kiss on the top of your head.

You snuggle together in contented silence for a few minutes, your head tucked perfectly under his chin.

“So, how was the simulator today?” You ask. “Get some good practice in for Monza this weekend?”

Lando nods. “Yeah, had a really solid session. Tweaked a few things with the setup that I think will help with the low downforce.”

“Nice,” you say. “Maybe another podium this week?”

“We’ll see,” Lando replies. “Ferrari looked quick in Spa so it could be tough. But I feel good going into the weekend.”

“Well, I know you’ll kill it babe,” you say supportively. Lando smiles gratefully and pulls you closer.

“But anyway, enough about F1. How was your day off?” He asks.

You launch into a recap of your relaxed day — sleeping in, catching up on chores, and working on some creative projects you’ve had on the backburner. Lando listens intently, asking questions and commenting on the new songs and recipes you’re dying to try. The conversation flows easily, as it always does between you two.

Before you know it, Lando’s stomach rumbles loudly and you both crack up. “I guess that means it’s dinnertime,” you say, checking your phone. “Pizza sound good?”

“You read my mind,” Lando replies. While you call in the usual order from your favorite local pizza joint, Lando queues up Netflix and scrolls through options for tonight’s viewing.

Thirty minutes later you’re back on the couch, the coffee table littered with pizza boxes and cans of soda. Lando hits play on an episode of Brooklyn Nine-Nine and you settle in, toes tucked under his legs to stay cozy.

You’re only halfway through the episode when you feel Lando’s gaze on you. You turn and find him staring at you wearing his newest hoodie creation, a small smile on his lips.

“What’s that look for?” You ask around a mouthful of pizza.

Lando shakes his head, the smile growing wider. “Nothing really. Just thinking about how lucky I am.”

You tilt your head curiously and he continues. “I have my dream job, getting to race cars for a living. And then I come home to you and … I don’t know. It just feels really good. Like everything is kind of falling into place.”

You set down your pizza slice and cuddle up to him. “Aww babe. That’s so sweet.” You give him a greasy kiss on the cheek. “I’m the lucky one you know. I get to see you living your dream every day. And then I get to be here to celebrate the wins with you and cheer you up after the tough days. It’s pretty amazing.”

Lando wraps both arms around you in a hug. “Love you so much,” he says softly.

“Love you more,” you whisper back, your head tucked perfectly under his chin once again.

***

The next evening, you’re sprawled across the bed browsing on your phone when you hear Lando come home.

“Honey, I’m home!” He calls out in a sing-song voice. You grin, expecting him to come give you a kiss. But instead you hear his footsteps stop abruptly.

“Babe, what … is that?” Lando asks slowly.

You look up confused. “What do you mea-”

Then you spot what he’s staring at in horror: the soft teal hoodie you’re wearing with an embroidered Enchanté logo across the front.

“Oh this?” You say casually. “It’s from Daniel’s new merch drop. The fleece is so soft, I couldn’t resist snagging one.”

Lando’s jaw drops open. “You … you bought a hoodie? From a competing merch brand?”

You stifle a laugh at how seriously Lando is taking this. “Well yeah, you gotta support your friends right? And I told you how comfy it looked in his posts.”

Lando just blinks slowly, looking utterly betrayed. You almost feel bad for riling him up.

“Babe, come on, don’t look at me like that! You know I’m your number one fan.” You get up and go to hug him, but Lando dodges you.

“Nope. No hugs until that … that enemy hoodie comes off,” he says dramatically.

Now you really have to hold back your laughter. “Lando, don’t be silly.”

But he crosses his arms and sticks his chin up. “I’m dead serious, Y/N. My own girlfriend, wearing another man’s merch!” He shakes his head in despair.

You bite your lip, trying not to smile at his antics. Time to have some more fun with this.

“Well if you’re going to be like that, maybe I’ll just keep it on,” you say nonchalantly, snuggling back into the ridiculously soft fleece.

Lando’s eyes go wide. “You wouldn’t dare!”

You raise your eyebrows challengingly. “Try me.”

You stare each other down for a few tense moments, before Lando huffs loudly.

“Fine then. Desperate times call for desperate measures.” And with that ominous statement, he lunges forward and lifts you up, tossing you over his shoulder.

“Lando!” You shriek through laughter. “Put me down!”

But he marches down the hall determinedly, you still slung over his shoulder. He brings you into the living room and gently tosses you onto the couch. Before you can react, he rips the Enchanté hoodie up over your head in one swift move.

“Lando!” You squeal, trying to reach for the hoodie, but he’s quicker. In a flash, he has the offending article of clothing in his grip.

“How could you bring this … this enemy propaganda into our home?” Lando accuses dramatically. He holds the hoodie between two fingers like it’s contaminated.

You have to press a hand over your mouth to contain your giggles. Lando looks utterly scandalized at the sight of you in his rival’s merch.

“I’m sorry babe, but you left me no choice,” Lando says solemnly. And with that, he crosses the room, opens the fireplace, and tosses the hoodie in.

You gasp loudly. “Lando Norris, did you just burn my hoodie?”

“I had to protect the sanctity of this home! Can’t have you falling for another man’s branding,” Lando exclaims. But you can see his facade cracking as he fights back a smile of his own.

You get up from the couch and poke him in the chest. “You’re absolutely ridiculous, you know that?”

Lando grins sheepishly. “Maybe. But you love me.”

You roll your eyes but can’t fight back your own smile. “Debatable at the moment,” you joke.

Lando pouts and gives you his best puppy dog eyes. “Come onnnn, you know I’m your favorite driver.”

You pretend to think about it for a moment. “Hmm well Daniel does give the best hugs ...”

“Hey!” Lando exclaims and tackles you into a bear hug. You dissolve into giggles as he squeezes you tight and sways you back and forth.

“Nope, absolutely not allowed,” he declares, still holding you captive.

You lean back to look up at him with a smile. “Oh yeah? And why’s that?”

“Because you’re my girl and I don’t share,” Lando states matter-of-factly. His eyes are soft now as he gazes down at you.

You feel your heart melt a little. You stand on your tiptoes to give him a sweet kiss. “You’re right, I’m all yours Lando.”

His answering smile is dazzling. But then a thought seems to occur to him and a grin spreads across his face.

In one smooth motion, he strips off the neon green hoodie he’s wearing, leaving just a black t-shirt underneath. Before you can react, he pulls it down over your head, enveloping you in soft fleece that smells like him.

“There. That’s better,” Lando declares satisfied.

You snuggle happily into Lando’s worn hoodie, his warmth still lingering in the fabric. Looking down, you recognize it as the exclusive design he wore constantly last season.

Lando’s eyes crease with happiness as he looks at you swimming in his hoodie. “That’s my girl,” he says softly, pulling you close again.

You nuzzle into his chest, perfectly content.

“Am I forgiven for my momentary lapse in loyalty?” You ask cheekily, peering up at him.

Lando pretends to consider this for a moment. “Hmmm, I guess I can let it slide this one time,” he teases back. “But only because you look so damn cute in my clothes.”

You smile and tighten your arms around him. You sway together slowly, Lando humming tunelessly under his breath. The fireplace crackles gently beside you.

After a few moments, Lando speaks again, his voice quiet. “You know I was only joking around before, right? You can wear whatever you want babe.”

You lean back to meet his gaze. His brown eyes are warm but serious now.

You touch his cheek softly. “Of course I know that Lando. Your hoodies might be the comfiest, but they’re not the only clothes I own.”

Lando nods, looking relieved that you understand. “I just never want you to feel like you have to choose between me and your own style or interests.” His voice is earnest. “I want you to always feel free to be yourself.”

Your heart swells at his words. You reach up and kiss him tenderly. When you pull back, Lando is smiling again.

“Thanks babe,” you say. “That really means a lot to me. And same to you, obviously.”

Lando grins. “Of course, it’s you and me against the world! Oh, and McLaren against the other teams,” he adds cheekily.

You laugh and snuggle back into his chest. “Yes, McLaren over all,” you agree, just to make him happy.

“That’s my girl,” Lando says again, pressing a kiss to the top of your head.

[waitimcomingtoo]

Rumor Has It

Pairing: Peter Parker x Reader

Synopsis: chaos ensues when Peter suspects you may be pregnant

Masterlist

“Do we have any salt and vinegar chips?” You asked as you rummaged through the kitchen pantry.

“No, because those are disgusting.” Rhodey replied without looking up from his newspaper.

“Actually, they’re delicious.” You insisted. “Clearly someone agrees because they’re all gone. I need something bitter. Do we have any pickles?”

“I think we have some left over from Cap’s birthday blowout. I’ll help you look.” Peter got up from his seat at the kitchen table and went over to help you look.

“I’ll look too. I need some cheese balls.” Sam patted his stomach and went over to the pantry. What he found inside was a nearly empty bag of cheese balls waiting for him. Sam slowly held up the bag to everyone sitting at the kitchen table so that they could see it.

“Who ate all the balls?” He said calmly.

“It wasn’t me.” You answered.

“Not me. I don’t eat that crap.” Bucky scoffed.

“What do you call that then?” Tony asked and pointed to the pop tart in Buckys hand.

“Well it’s strawberry flavored, isn’t it? That’s a fruit.” Bucky replied.

“You’re a fruit.” Tony mumbled.

“Come on. Fess up.” Sam urged. “Who finished all the balls?”

“Not me.” Peter answered while everyone else stayed silent.

“Well it was fookin’ one of yus.” Sam snapped and threw the bag to the ground.

“Don’t look at me.” Tony held up his hands in defense. “I haven’t eaten cheeseballs since the 80s. That was also the last time I tried crack. Unrelated.”

“Someone needs to tell me who ate all the balls or there’s about to be an Avengers level threat in this kitchen.” Sam warned.

“I did it. I ate all the balls.” Carol confessed and stood up from the table.

“And just put back an empty bag? Don’t you think the rest of us would’ve liked some balls?” Sam asked as he slowly walked towards her.

“Maybe.” She shrugged. “Or maybe I didn’t care.”

“Maybe you should care. I was looking forward all week to those nice, crunchy balls.”

“We don’t always get what we want.” Carol replied and narrowed her eyes.

“Why did we all decide to drop “cheese” and just say balls?” Peter raised his hand to ask.

“If you finished the balls, you should have replaced them with more balls.” Sam told her.

“I’ve been busy.” Carol shrugged him off.

“Doing what?” Sam scoffed. “Eating all the snacks and not replacing them?”

“Why’d you ask if you already knew?” Carol asked sarcastically, making Sam grow madder.

“I’ll kill you.”

“I’ll kill you harder.” Carol warned back.

“Guys. No fighting in the kitchen.” Tony quipped. “It makes the fruit go bad faster.”

“He’s right. The bad vibes make the banana go brown instantly.” You insisted. Carol looked down at the empty bag of cheese balls and sighed.

“I’m sorry I ate all the balls.” She said sincerely. “I’m on my period right now and I honestly don’t even remember doing it.”

“Fine. You get off the hook this time. But only because I don’t understand how periods work.” Sam said with the same sincerity.

“I can go get some more balls now at the store.” Carol offered. “I need ibuprofen anyway. My cramps are killing me.”

“Hey, sparkles, can you get me some cough stuff while you’re there? My throat is acting up.” Tony said and rubbed his sore throat.

“Why are you always sick?” Sam asked him.

“Your immune system gets weaker as you get older. This cold could very well be his last.” Peter pointed out.

“Thanks.” Tony replied sarcastically through a cough. Carol left for the store and you looked down at the cheese ball bag in confusion.

“What’s today?” You asked Peter.

“The 25th.” He replied. “Don’t ask me what day of the week though. I’ve never known.”

“Hm.” You frowned and put your hand on your stomach.

“What’s wrong?”

“My period was supposed to come on the 10th. I wonder why it’s so late.” You shrugged.

“Weird.” Peter shrugged as well and didn’t think anything of it.

“I guess these will have to do. As entertaining as this was, I’ll be in my room.” You said as you grabbed a bag of tortilla chips, kissed Peters cheek, and left the kitchen. Sam turned to Peter with an amused look on his face, making Peter frown in confusion.

“Uh oh.” Sam chuckled.

“What oh?” Peter asked.

“Nothing. Just don’t ask me to babysit.”

“Babysit who?”

“Your kid.” Sam said simply.

“What kid?”

“The one your girlfriend is pregnant with.” Sam said like it was obvious.

“What?” Peter laughed. “She’s not pregnant.”

“Did we just see the same thing? Her periods late and had weird food cravings? She’s definitely pregnant.” Sam insisted.

“He’s right. Only a pregnant person would willingly eat salt and vinegar chips.” Rhodey said from the table.

“You guys don’t know what you’re talking about. There’s no way she’s pregnant.” Peter laughed it off but felt his stomach start to turn with anxiety.

“Oh. My bad. I didn’t realize there was no way.” Sam snorted and looked Peter up and down. It took Peter a minute to realize what Sam was implying and he quickly shut that down.

“Now hold on a minute. Best believe I’m in my baby’s room every night leaving her adequately satisfied. I’m saying there’s no way she could be pregnant because we use protection. And because I have lighting quick reflexes.”

Tony threw a a buttered bagel at Peter from the kitchen table and it stuck to his chest. Peter looked down at the bagel before looking at Tony in shock.

“Why would you do that?” Peter asked.

“The question you should be asking is didn’t your tingle tell you I was gonna do that? Maybe your reflexes aren’t as quick as you thought.” Tony shrugged and went back to his breakfast. Peter peeled the bagel off and tossed it in the trash before looking at Sam.

“Do you really think she’s pregnant?” He whispered.

“I don’t know. Do you?” Sam asked.

“I don’t know. Do you?” Peter asked back.

“Why don’t you just ask her?” Sam suggested.

“Yeah. That’s a really good idea. Let me ask my girlfriend if she’s pregnant. That definitely won’t effect her self esteem in any way or make her mad at me at all.”

“You’re right.” Sam agreed. “You have to sleuth.”

“Or I could just wait until she feels ready to share the news.” Peter pointed out.

“No.” Sam shook his head. “You gotta go sleuth.”

And so, Peter left the kitchen to sleuth. He went to your room and pushed your door open to find you.

“Hey, honey bee.” Peter greeted you as he walked into your room. You were standing in front of your floor length mirror with your shirt pulled up a little.

“Do you think I’ve gained weight?” You asked as you examined your reflection.

“Uh….” Peter looked behind him for help getting out of this question. He ended up turning in a full circle twice and got dizzy.

“Peter?” You asked and rolled your shirt down.

“Ummmmm.” He stalled and pretended to take sudden interest in the things on your dresser. He knew girls had a record of asking things and wanting certain answers and he was almost positive that this was one of those questions. Your question had also watered the seed that Sam had just planted in Peters head about you possibly being pregnant. Peter knew he needed to avoid answering this question before you got suspicious that he might know something.

“Did you say something?” He asked you.

“I asked you a question.” You laughed at his obvious attempt at avoiding the question.

“You did? I must’ve miss that.” He played dumb.

“Just be honest with me. Do you think I’ve gained weight?” You repeated.

“I don’t understand the question, sorry.”

“It’s a simple yes or no question.”

“I’m confused. Are you asking me?” Peter forced a confused laugh and pointed to himself.

“Yes, you. You’re the only one in here. Do you think I’ve gained weight? Be honest.” You asked and looked back at your mirror again to see your side profile.

“In what regard?”

“Oh my God.” You laughed. “Just answer the question. I’m not gonna be mad. It’s not the end of the world to gain weight. I just want to know if you’ve noticed it.”

“I’ve never noticed anything. Ever.” Peter replied.

“Right. Thank you.” You chuckled and walked over to him to wrap your arms around his neck. He kissed you hello and momentarily forgot about what Sam had suggested.

“Why do you ask?” He asked you.

“I don’t know. I was just getting dressed and I realized I used to put this belt on this hole but today I put it on the hole after that.” You shrugged and showed him your belt.

“Maybe it shrunk.”

“Maybe. Or maybe I grew.” You shrugged.

“You look beautiful either way.” Peter said sincerely. “Whether you got bigger or not. You’re still the only girl I want to holla at.”

“I think so too. Thanks.” You smiled warmly at him and rested your head on his shoulder to hug him. Peter wrapped you in his arms and sighed happily and you gently rocked back and forth.

“You’re welcome.” He answered. For a second, he wasn’t panicking about the possibility of a baby. Instead, he felt excited to start a family with the person he loved most.

Later in the afternoon, you and Peter strolled into the kitchen to get some snacks. Tony and Sam were making lunch while Carol restocked the snack cabinet.

“Oh, I almost forgot. Here’s your cough syrup.” Carol said and gave the cough medicine to Tony.

“Thanks. My throat is killing me.” Tony sighed and cracked open the bottle.

“Here. We have measuring cups in the-“ You started to say as Tony took a long swig of the syrup.

“Or chug it. Okay.” You nodded while Peter stifled a laugh.

“Ugh. They can’t figure out how to make this taste any better?” Tony grimaced and wiped his mouth.

“I’ll make you some tea to wash it down.” You offered and filled the kettle with water.

“Thanks, kid.” Tony smiled. “I love when my annual man flu lines up with when you’re home from school. You’re so good at taking care of people.”

“Thanks for saying that. I don’t know what it is but I really like taking care of people when they’re sick. It makes me feel like a mom.” You said as you poured the hot water over a tea bag. Peter started choking on the water he was drinking while Sam gulped.

“You’re gonna be such a good mom.” Carol told you. “You’re so giving.”

“Aw, thank you. I hope so.” You smiled and patted your stomach twice. Peter and Sam exchanged a look with equal panic on their faces. Sam grabbed Peters arms and pulled him aside.

“Did she just pat her stomach?” Sam whispered.

“No way. This can’t be happening. You can’t be right. You’re never right!” Peter whispered back as he started to panic.

“Maybe this time, I was!” Sam whispered harshly.

“She can’t be pregnant. There’s no way. She would’ve told me.”

“She is telling you.” Sam insisted. “She’s dropping hints like crazy.”

“Oh my God. Why’d you have to put this idea in my head? I’m freaking out, man.”

“So am I. You think I want a spider baby crawling up the walls and shit like it’s the exorcist?”

“Technically the exorcist is the guy who gets rid of the demon. He doesn’t crawl up the walls. The possessed person does that. Well, I guess depending on the demon.”

“Jesus Christ. This kid is about to be so god damn annoying.” Sam sighed.

“You know what? No. She’s not pregnant.” Peter decided and walked away.

“Are you sure about that?” Sam called after him as he went back into the kitchen. When Peter got there, you were mixing honey into Tony’s tea while helping him with something on his phone. Peter watched you patiently teaching Tony and smiled to himself. He once again felt that maybe it would be okay if Sam was right. If you were pregnant, it wouldn’t be the end of the world. It was unexpected and jarring, but not impossible for Peter to handle as long as he had you.

The pregnancy rumor that existed between only Peter and Sam died down for the next few days. It wasn’t until a rainy Sunday that Peter thought about it again. You were watching a movie in the living room with some of the team when Natasha came in.

“Carol and I were gonna go train. You wanna join?” Natasha asked you.

“I would but my lower back is killing me. I think I slept weird.” You said and cracked your neck. Peter felt his face heat up when you said this, and Sam caught it too.

“Did you hear that? Her back hurts. Because of the baby!” Sam whispered to Peter.

“That’s not why. Didn’t you hear her? She said she slept weird.” Peter whispered back.

“Duh, she slept weird because of the baby!” Sam whispered again. Peter waved him off but couldn’t help but wonder if he was right.

“I could crack it for you.” Natasha offered.

“Could you? Thank.” You got off the couch and went over to Natasha. She wrapped her strong arms around you and was about to squeeze when Peter jumped off the couch.

“Not so fast.” He said and pulled you away from Natasha.

“What’s the matter?” You wondered. Peter was dumbstruck for a second when he realized he couldn’t say he didn’t want Natasha to crack your back incase her giant muscles squished the little baby in your tummy.

“I just don’t think it’s safe to be cracking her back if you don’t know what you’re doing. You could hurt someone.” Peter tried to explain but didn’t sound convincing.

“I’m not gonna hurt her. I’ve cracked her back plenty of times.” Natasha insisted and pulled you back towards her.

“Okay. Just be careful. Baby on board.” He mumbled the last part quickly.

“What was that?” You asked him.

“Nothing. What did you say?” Peter asked you to throw you off.

“I didn’t say anything. Weirdo.” You laughed at his odd behavior and let Natasha crack your back. Peter held his breath until you were safely out of her arms.

“Oh thank God.” He sighed. “We survived that. Cool.”

“Did you not think we would?” You laughed in confusion.

“I don’t know how to answer that question.” Peter answered honestly.

“You are being so odd lately. More than usual, you know that?” You chuckled as you pulled him back towards the couch.

“That’s just my boyish charm.” Peter laughed weakly and settled back onto the couch. He pulled you into his side and told himself that your back could be hurting for any number of reasons and didn’t necessarily mean you were pregnant. You watched the movie for a little bit until Peter felt you shift and wince a little.

“Are you okay?” He asked you.

“Yeah. My boobs are just sore.” You said and adjusted your bra uncomfortably.

“Why? Did you sprain them?”

“Um, no.” You chuckled. “I don’t even think you can sprain them. I must be PMSing.”

“Oh, thank God.” Peter said too enthusiastically. “Your period came?”

“No. Why do you seem so excited about it?” You furrowed your eyebrows and looked at him. Peter gulped and avoided eye contact with you.

“Excited? I’m not excited. Your men’s trail cycle doesn’t evoke any emotions within me. But if you don’t mind me asking, how are you PMSing without the P?”

“I’m pretty sure the P stands for “pre”. But you still get the symptoms sometimes even if you’re not on your period.”

“Interesting, interesting. Follow up question, are you usually this off kilter?”

“You mean irregular?” You laughed. “No. I haven’t been late in years.”

“Hm. Weird.” Peter forced a laugh and tried to focus on the movie while his mind raced.

“You’re telling me. My boobs hurt like a bitch.” You whined and pulled the blanket up to your chin.

“Ahem, I could help with that, m’lady.” Peter smirked and held up both his hands. You looked at him for a long time with a disgusted expression before turning back to the movie.

“I want pretzels.” You said.

“Coming right up.” Peter jumped off the couch and ran to the kitchen. Sam saw him leave and got up to go after him.

“How’s it going?” He asked Peter once they were alone in the kitchen.

“I don’t know.” Peter sighed. “She hasn’t told me anything yet.”

“Is she showing any other signs?”

“She said she thinks she gained weight but I can’t really tell. I don’t think about that stuff. I just see her and I’m like “oh my god it’s a girl”. Have you noticed anything else?”

“I mean, I wasn’t gonna say anything, but I saw her rip the wrong banana from the bunch and broke down crying.” Sam admitted.

“Oh no. Is craving bananas a symptom of pregnancy?”

“No, idiot. Mood swings are. For your future child’s sake, I really hope she isn’t actually pregnant. No one deserves this dumb of a father.”

“I know.” Peter whined. “What do I do? I’m freaking out.”

“I’m sure she’ll tell you soon. And if she doesn’t, you’ll find out anyway. It’s kinda hard to hide a pregnancy after a few months. Just relax, man.”

“Okay. You’re right.” Peter agreed. “I’m not gonna freak out until I know there’s something to worry about. Now excuse me while I pee out this apple juice.”

Peter walked away from Sam and went into the bathroom. After peeing, he blew his nose and went to throw it out when he saw something strange in the trash. He frowned and pulled it out before feeling all the color drain from his face.

“Oh no.” He said gravely. In his hand was a pregnancy test with two red lines.

“Positive? What? Are you sure?” Peter whispered harshly and shook the test. The lines stayed the same and Peter felt his stomach drop. All those moments of thinking everything would be okay seemed so far away now. Now that it was real and not just an idea, Peter felt overwhelmed. You were really pregnant and he really didn’t know what to do. He felt his heart start to race and he fell against the door with the test in his hand. You heard Peter thud against the door and went to go investigate.

“Peter? Are you okay in there?” You asked as you knocked against the door.

“Go away! I’m pooping!” Peter screamed as he ran the test under hot water to try to change the answer.

“Why is that always your response?” You sighed and walked away. Peter waited until you were gone before sneaking out of the bathroom. He went to go find Sam and yanked him into another room.

“Dude. It’s true. She’s pregnant.” Peter said and handed Sam the test.

“Oh shit. Are you sure?” Sam asked and shook the test.

“I already tried that. It’s true. She’s pregnant.” Peters mouth went dry as he said it out loud. It felt even more real now and he didn’t know how to handle it.

“Dude. This is serious. Aren’t you guys in like middle school?”

“We’re both in college. But still. I’m not ready to be a dad. I can’t even take care of myself. Look at this rash.” Peter whined and lifted his shirt to show Sam the red ring around his armpit.

“Oh my God. What the hell is that?” Sam grimaced and raised his hands to protect himself from Peters rash.

“A rash. Like I said.” Peter said flatly. “I think I’m allergic to my deodorant.”

“So use a different one.”

“But I like how this one smells. It’s called Flannel, see?” Peter said and got closer to Sam with his arm raised.

“Get your armpitt out of my face before I make it where you can’t have anymore kids.” Sam warned and Peter put his shirt down.

“What am I supposed to do?” He whined. “Mr. Stark is gonna kill me. And then May is gonna kill me. And then Y/n’s parents. I’m gonna die three times. Three times!”

“Yeah. No, I agree. You’re definitely fucked.” Sam agreed.

“What? That’s not helping!”

“I’m sorry dude, but how am I supposed to help you in this situation?”

“I don’t know. Tell me it’s all gonna be okay?”

“Is it? You’re not out of college yet and neither is she. Neither of you have jobs that can support a child. And it’s not like you live together either. Where would the baby even stay? Your crappy apartment? Or here at this tower full of nuclear weapons and glass windows that aren’t baby proof?”

“I didn’t even think of those things.” Peter realized and started to panic all over again.

“Clearly you don’t think at all. How did this even happen?”

“From sex.” Peter whispered and covered his mouth.

“I know that.” Sam rolled his eyes. “But don’t you guys use protection?”

“Of course. Always. Wrap it before you tap it. On god.”

“Well is she on the pill?”

“What pill?”

“You know. The pill.”

“Tylenol?” Peter asked.

“Oh my God. This poor baby.” Sam groaned and rubbed his eyes.

“What am I gonna do Sam? I’m not ready to be a father. I only had one until I was 9. What if the kid turns ten? I don’t have any examples of being a father past age 9. What am I gonna do?” Peter whined and shook Sam by the shoulders.

“She could get an abortion?” Sam suggested.

“Maybe but that’s not up to me. If she wants to keep this baby, we’re keeping the baby.”

“Maybe it won’t be so bad. Have you ever babysat?”

“Just Ned’s tomagotchi. And it died. Like, immediately.”

“Well lucky for you, Y/n is gonna make a great mom. You’ve seen how caring she is. She takes care of all of us when we get sick. And she gets weirdly excited to do it too. If you so much as sneeze around her she runs to get you a thermometer and a blanket. And she knows all the passwords for streaming services.”

“You’re right. She’s got this. I can learn from her.” Peter said and started to calm down.

“Are you gonna tell her you know?”

“No. She deserves to tell me in her own way on her own time.” Peter decided.

“I think that’s smart. In the meantime, you should probably hit the books. There seems to be a lot you don’t know.”

“You’re right.” Peter realized. “I need to know what to expect when I’m expecting.”

“Can I be honest?” Sam asked.

“Sure.”

“I kinda thought that between the two of you, you’d be the one to carry the baby. Not her.” Sam told him.

“No, I get that.” Peter nodded in agreement.

That night, Peter opened his laptop and started to research everything he could on pregnancy.

“I’m gonna the father the shit out of this kid.” He whispered to himself before diving into his research. By the time the sun came up, his eyes were red and glazed over. His hands were cramping from all the typing and his back was stiff beyond repair. He had spent the night reading every article he could find and took extensive notes. He shut his laptop when he heard birds outside and padded out of his room. When he walked into the kitchen, he saw you about to take a bite of a bagel with lox.

“No!” Peter screamed and shot a web at your bagel. He yanked it away from you and threw it at the cabinet, where it stuck. Everyone turned to look at Peter and he felt his face heat up.

“What the hell was that?” You laughed in surprise.

“You can’t be eating that in your condition.” Peter blurted.

“What condition is that?” You asked and Peter realized he had said too much.

“Um, dating a boy who thinks fish is gross?” He smiled weakly.

“It’s just lox. Try it. I think you’ll like it.” You said and started to make another bagel. He realized that if he ate the rest of the lox, you couldn’t eat any. He had read in his research that uncooked fish was not safe for pregnant women to eat but it seemed like you didn’t know that yet. Keeping it away from you without telling you what he knew was his best bet.

“Okay. Yeah.” Peter reluctantly agreed and sat next to you at the table. You handed him your bagel with the fish on top and he gagged a little. Peter the opened his mouth and shoved the entire bagel inside. He chewed it slowly and gagged every so often.

“You ate the whole thing.” You said in disbelief over what you had just witnessed.

“Uh huh.” Peter said with a full mouth.

“Did you like it?” You laughed and wiped some cream cheese off his mouth.

“Yeah. Yummy.” Peter said weakly. He turned his head a little and gagged loud enough for you to hear.

“Peter, if you don’t like it, don’t eat it.”

“I love it.” He lied and kept chewing. He slowly swallowed the massive bite and made a face as it went down.

“Do you want to throw up?” You asked him.

“Yes please.” He nodded. You brought Peter to the bathroom and held his messy hair back as he threw up into the toilet. Once it was all out, he rested against the wall. He caught sight of the garbage can, the very one ye had found your pregnancy test in.

“Soon, this will be me helping you throw up.” He said.

“What?”

“What?” Peter said quickly when he realized what he had said.

“Are you feeling okay?” You laughed and checked his forehead.

“Are you?” He genuinely asked, wanting to know if you were experiencing morning sickness yet.

“Yeah. Why do you ask?”

“No reason.” Peter lied. You found his behavior strange but decided not to question it further. You knew Peter well enough to know that this was just how he behaved sometimes. You brought him back to the kitchen and made him some tea for his tummy as Peter watch d carefully from his seat. He felt himself relax for the first time since finding the test. Now that he had some some research and remembered how good you were at taking care of people, he felt more confident in your combined skills as parents.

That feeling was confidence was shaken later that day when Peter went into your room to find you. He pushed open your bathroom door and found you sectioning your hair into parts with the faucet running. Beside the sink was your hair straightener. Peter gasped dramatically and yanked the plug out of the wall before shutting off the water.

“Are you crazy? What the are you doing?” He asked as he took the straighter out of your hands.

“Doing my hair? Is that okay?” You laughed in confusion and reached for the straitened.

“You can’t be using this when the waters running. What if you drop it into the sink and get electrocuted?” Peter said as he held the straightener up.

“I’m not sure it works like that. I think it the sink would have to be full of water.”

“Oh. Well I don’t know how hair straighteners work, okay? I’m not God.”

“Peter, you’re being ridiculous. More than usual. Let me straighten my hair. I have to go out tonight.” You whined and took the straitener from him.

“Go out where?”

“It’s Kate’s birthday. We’re gonna go to karaoke and then go to a bar.” You explained as your ran a section of hair through your straightener.

“A bar?!” Peter nearly screamed.

“Yes, oh my God.” You laughed at his outburst. “What’s with you today?”

“What’s with me? What’s with you? You know you’re not supposed to drink when you’re…” Peter trailed off and you looked at him in confusion.

“When I’m what?”

“When you’re on medication.” He said quickly. “Obviously that’s what I was going to say. I saw you take Tylenol before. You’re not supposed to mix alcohol and medicine.”

“That was just for my back pain. I think I’ll be okay.”

“Please don’t go out tonight.” Peter whined and wrapped his arms around you. You stopped doing your hair and turned around in his arms to face him.

“Why not?” You wondered.

“Because…” Peter trailed off as he desperately tried to think of something. He only knew one thing that would be sure to get you to stay.

“Because I’m not feeling so good.” He lied and faked a cough.

“Oh no. You’re sick?” You gasped and felt his forehead.

“Yeah. So sick. Tony must’ve given me whatever he has. I feel horrible.” Peter whined and clutched his stomach.

“But Tony’s throat was bothering him. Does your stomach too?” You asked when you saw what Peter was doing. Peter realized he was faking the wrong illness and nodded.

“Oh yeah. My throat and my stomach hurts. And I think I’m getting a fever too. And my toe fell off.” He laid it on thick to get you to stay.

“Aw. Poor baby.” You pouted and pulled him into your arms.

“Baby?” Peter whispered in fear.

“I’ll take care of you, okay? I’ll tell Kate I can’t make it.” You smiled sweetly as you cupped his face. Peter felt bad for lying to you but he couldn’t let you go out drinking if you were pregnant.

“Thanks, honey bee. You’re the best.” He smiled back. You took his hand and brought him to his room to tuck him into bed. Peter felt guilty all over again when you went to go make him some soup. He was feeling perfectly fine so your efforts were for nothing. You came back and fed him the soup, making him feel even worse about lying.

“I feel like Peeta in the cave.” Peter joked as you held the spook to his lips.

“Ugh, dirty Peeta in the cave is so hot. I would’ve won the games with the things I’d do to that man on camera. I’ll tell you that.”

“Wait, what?” Peter sat up and looked at you.

“How about some tea?” You smiled sweetly as you changed the subject.

“Can we circle back to what you just said about-“

“I’ll go make some.” You cut him off as you left his room. You came back soon with a hot mug of tea for Peter. He was already sweating under the blankets you tucked him into and the hot soup, so tea was the last thing he wanted. But he felt that that’s what he deserved for lying to you.

“Oh, no. You’re so sweaty. You must be getting a fever.” You frowned once Peter had finished his tea.

“Oh no. Must be.” Peter laughed weakly and discreetly fanned his face.

“I know what will make you feel better.” You said and climbed into Peters lap. You started to kiss his neck and he went into high alert mode.

“What are you doing?” He asked and gently moved you back.

“Kissing you?”

“With a suggestive undertone.” He replied, sounding accusatory.

“Is that a problem?” You laughed and bent down to kiss his neck again. He pulled you off and looked at you in disbelief.

“You want to have sex? The very thing that caused this?”

“Huh? Caused what?” You asked.

“The pregnancy.” He said like it was obvious. Peter slapped his hand over his mouth as you tilted your head in confusion.

“Wait, what? What pregnancy?”

“Your pregnancy.”

“My pregnancy?” You asked as you sat back on your knees. Peter sat up as well and pushed the blankets off himself.

“I’m sorry. But I know.” Peter admitted with a sigh.

“Know what?” You laughed in confusion.

“You don’t have to pretend anymore, honey bee. I already know about the pregnancy.” Peter said as he took your hands.

“Wait, I’m confused. Who’s pregnant?” You asked him.

“You are.” He said simply.

“I’m pregnant?” You asked and pointed to yourself.

“Yes. You’re pregnant.”

“Me?” You asked and looked behind you for who else he might be talking to.

“Yes, you.” He urged and shook your hands.

“Hold on. Who told you I was pregnant?” You laughed at how serious he was.

“You did.” Peter said like it was obvious.

“Me?” You questioned and pointed to yourself again.

“You’re the only one in the room right now.”

“Peter, I never said I was pregnant. I think I would remember saying something like that.”

“That’s because you didn’t say it with words. You’ve just been dropping hints like crazy. The sore back, the eating of salt and vinegar chips-“

“Those are-“

“No they’re not.” He cut you off before you could defend them.

You stared at Peter as you tried to gage if he was being serious or not. He stared back at you as he tried to figure out if you were upset or relieved that he knew.

“Also I found this positive pregnancy test in the trash.” He said as he pulled the test out of his pocket. You took the test from him and looked at it for a long time. Peters heart raced as he waited for your reaction. Finally, you flipped the test over and showed him what it said on the back.

“This is a strep throat test.” You said calmly.

“What?!” Peter shrieked and took the test back. Sure enough, the back said “rapid strep throat test” in raised letters.

“Tony has strep throat. You knew this.”

“This looks exactly like a pregnancy test.” Peter defended as he showed you the test again.

“Peter, this looks nothing like a pregnancy test. Do you know what a pregnancy test looks like?”

“Apparently not.” Peter scoffed. You stared at him for a minute before cracking up laughing.

“You really thought I was pregnant? That’s why you didn’t let me eat fish or straighten my hair? And tried to stop Natasha from cracking my back? Which I still don’t see the correlation, by the way.”

“I didn’t want you or the baby to be in harms way. What if the straighter shocked you and the baby came out like the Flash? What if it just ran right out of your womb? Or what if Natasha squeezed you so hard and the baby popped out like a rocket?”

“You know shocking little about pregnancy.”

“I know. But as nervous as I was, I was also kinda excited.” Peter admitted. “I know you’re the person I’m gonna be with forever. It would be nice to have a little one that was a combination of the both of us.”

“And one day, we will have one.” You assured him. “And hopefully, they’ll inherit my intelligence over yours.”

“I hope so too.” Peter chuckled. You leaned down to kiss him and he felt himself fully relax for the first time in days.

“I hope you know that if we do have a kid one day, you’re carrying it. I’m not getting fat.” You told him once you pulled away.

“I don’t know if that’s medically possibly yet. Not for cis men, anyway.“

“We’ll find a way.” You shrugged. “We can ask Bruce. You can be like a seahorse! Or Cosmo from the Fairly Oddparents.”

“I’d do it for you, honey.”

“I know you would. That’s why I know you’re my forver person too.” You smiled and leaned in to kiss him again. Peter pulled you into his lap and slipped his hand behind your head to deepen the kiss.

“So, now that we know you’re not pregnant…” Peter trailed off and played with the buttons on your shirt. You caught on to what he was suggesting and laughed as you pushed his face away.

“Not a chance.”

Tag List 🏷️

@thebookwormlife @imanativeofswlondondahling

@tom-hollands-wifey

@whatareyouhidingpeter @takenbyheartstrings

@imyourliquor-youremypoison @andreasworlsboring101

@peterparkoure

@justcallmehitgirl @jackiehollanderr

@emmamarshmellow @unbelievableholland

@sovereignparker @every-marveler-ever @undiadeestos @eridanuswave

@solarxmoonchild @canyouevencauseicant

@quaksonhehe @lovelessdagger

@thesuitelifeofafangirl @nooneinvitedfascistbarbie

@maybemona

@alexxcorona113 @lethal-wisdom

@pandaxnienke

 @officialsimppage @peterbenjiparker @itsemohours

@freakofmusic25 @tomholland85

@olixerwxxd @leilanixx

@whereismytelephone @so-very-asleep @white-wolf1940

@spideyspeaches @hihiweezing

@dhtomholland @insomniac-nerd-posts-things @prancerrparkerr @loudthoughts-softspoken

@hallecarey1 @adayasgeorgia @blackwidowisthebest @imawhoreforu

@nellabellaa @pinklxmonade-blog @boogywoogywoogy @ciarahollands

[tenelkadjowrites]

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.

[evanpetersmybf]

Be mine?

Tate Langdon x female!reader

Summary: Meeting you was his destiny. He had to make you his so he could feel alive... It was meant to be.

Genre: Smut.

Word count: 3,172

Warnings: Virgin and inexperienced reader, mentions of bullying, self-harm (just once and is nothing detailed), obsessive and stalkish behavior, swearing, cunnilingus, fingering, unprotected p in v and cumshot.

A/N: English isn't my first language and this is my first time writing smut, so sorry if it sucks or if I have grammatical mistakes or something TT. Btw, also sorry if Tate's out of character. Anyways, hope you enjoy it!

⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ཐི ♡ ཋྀ

Tate had another bad day. It was the usual. Bullying, failed tests, the teacher humiliating him after he couldn’t solve a simple equation on the chalkboard, his mother scolding him. Nothing seemed new, and it seemed that nothing wasn’t going to change at any point.

He needed something, a reason to live, something to make him feel alive. Because he was dead. Dead in life, which in his own opinion, was even worse than being a rotten corpse.

He headed to the music store after secretly stealing some of his mom’s money, just a few bucks; the enough amount to buy a vinyl or some CD’s. Tate was sort of a music elitist, always believing that the artists nowadays just created pure, hollow, and trashy songs. In fact, he didn’t believe those could even be considered music.

Walking around the nearly empty store, rummaging through the shelves filled with Nirvana vinyl’s, someone bumped into him.

“Oh, sorry.” You spoke, after accidentally taking too many steps back and bumping into Tate’s behinds.

He frowned, somewhat annoyed at you for disturbing his moment of peace. The blonde turned around to look at who it was, scanning your body from head to toe, taking note of your appearance. Then, his dark eyes drifted to the sign that was on top the shelf, which indicated the musical genre of the records that were on that rack. Alternative pop. His gaze went to the album you were hugging to yourself.

“Cry Baby? What type of crap is that?”

“Huh, excuse me?”

“Never mind, you won’t understand.” Tate talked in such a volatile and rude manner, already feeling superior because of his likes.

You arched an eyebrow. What was his problem? You did nothing to him and yet he was here, judging your amazing music taste.

“Well, people’s free to like whatever they want to, hmm?”

“Uh, yeah, but what’s the point of that if everything is so generic?”

“Have you ever listened to Melanie Martinez at least once?”

He shook his head no, still scowling, now fidgeting with a ring that was on one of his fingers.

“Have you listened to Nirvana?”

“Just like… Two songs?”

“Don’t tell me. Smells Like Teen Spirit?”

“Guilty.”

Tate rolled his eyes. What was going on with this generation? What happened to good music, to the greatest artists? Why was everyone just listening to trash?

After sharing your names and a few more words, debating about who was right and who wasn’t, you placed one of your hands over his right shoulder, as an attempt to stop his rant of how superior he was. And indeed, it worked. The teen stopped venting and stared at you, all confused and a bit uncomfortable. You noticed it and quickly stepped back, apologizing for touching him without permission. He told you it was okay, that you just surprised him. But deep down, that simple yet complex touch meant a lot to Tate, even if it was absolutely nothing to you.

For the first time he felt something more than sorrow.

“So… What do you think of this? I’ll make you listen to some songs by Melanie and other artists, and I’ll listen to your beloved beautiful grunge music.” You said those last words in a mocking way.

Tate huffed, clearly offended by the way you referred to his taste. Nevertheless, in the end he agreed with you.

After paying the stuff you two picked, both of you went to Tate’s place. As you walked next to him, your fingers brushed his, making his cheeks turn a light shade of red and his heart flutter. He felt dizzy, not sure about what was going on.

In his house, he took you to his room. The boy didn’t want his mother to see you, otherwise she’d be too nosy and probably scare you and push you away from him, and that was the last thing he wanted.

“Get comfy.” He mused, extending his hand as if inviting you to take a seat wherever you feel to.

“Thanks.” You sat on the floor, using one of the sides of the bed as a support for your back. He did the same and sat right next to you.

He was nervous. So damn nervous and excited. He brought a pretty chick to his place. The Tate Langdon, the outcast, the bullied, that Tate Langdon was in the same room with a girl? He couldn’t believe it.

“Ladies first.” Tate pointed the record-player with his thumb, and you obeyed, placing the CD in it. The music started playing.

“We could’ve used Spotify, y’know?”

“Nah, I don’t like it. I prefer the old school.”

‘Cry Baby’ was the first track that was listened to.

He squinted his eyes and rubbed his chin, analyzing the sounds, the melody, the harmony and of course the lyrics.

Although it wasn’t his style, you definitely were. The way you looked, talked, walked. How you stood up for your beliefs and didn’t allow him to step on you (even if you just discussed about music). It was new for him. He craved your independence. He craved you.

That was the very moment when he realized that you were the thing he was looking for all his life. You were the one who was meant to be his, he was meant to be yours. It was destiny. Tate truly believed it was some kind of divine prophecy, and he wasn’t going to let you go.

He was so immersed in his mind that he didn’t pay attention to the song anymore. He was solely focused on you, remembering how warm and kind your touch was, how sweet your voice was. ‘Oh, she’s mine’, he thought.

“So… That was the first track. Its name’s Cry Baby. Did you like it?”

Tate snapped out of it and bit his bottom lip. He didn’t listen to your question.

“I’m sorry, what did you?—”

“Did you like the song?”

“Ah, yeah yeah. It’s quite… Innovative. I’ve never heard something like that.”

You smiled and clapped your hands. “Of course! She’s such a genius. Let’s finish the album, hm?”

He just nodded, as a little smirk appeared on his face.

The days flew by, and Tate asked you out on many friendly dates. Or at least that’s what you thought because you were so oblivious at the fact that he had a fat crush on you.

With every hang out, you noticed that Tate was lonely. Like, really lonely. Maybe that’s why he was so clingy with you.

He told you about his family, about how annoying Constance was, about his siblings and about how his father left him behind. He also mentioned the bullying he suffered and almost talked about the self-harm but stopped himself.

Both of you grew closer, as his obsession.

Since you went to a different school, he would skip class and infiltrate your campus just to see you. He couldn’t stand being away from you. And if he did, his mind was full of you, thinking of you all day, unable to focus on his homework and tests. Tate didn’t care anymore if he failed subjects, as long as you were next to him, he was happy and alive.

The void he once felt, was now fulfilled with your mere presence. You could step on him, and he would thank you. In his twisted little mind, you were free to have everything of him.

He was willing to do anything to keep you by his side. The thought of losing was so terrifying that it would make him throw up.

Tate learned every single detail about you. Your mannerisms, your likes and dislikes, your dreams, and your fears. Everything. And that includes your schedule since you wake up, and since you go to sleep.

That was his definition of love. No one ever taught him about how to express it, and he ended up being the way he was with you.

One day he invited you over to his place. The Langdon's house was empty, and he was going to take advantage of it. No doubt.

“Your mom isn’t home?” You questioned as you followed him behind, going upstairs straight to his bedroom. Little did you know this wasn’t going to be another afternoon of playing board games while listening to some music.

“Nah, dunno where she went but she won’t be back any time soon.” He shrugged and let you inside of his private space,

You went to lay down on bed, feeling relief in your aching back after a long day at school. “Damn, I need some rest!”

Tate chuckled softly and sat on the edge, looking at you as you closed your eyes and tried to relax. He was focused on your steady and calm breathing, on how your breasts went up and down with every inhalation and exhalation. His eyes stared at your lips, at how kissable they looked. He felt a sudden desire, the intense urge to make you his. Feeling conflicted, he shook his head and tried to distract himself, pretending to ignore how aroused he was getting.

He wasn’t going to say it out loud, but of course he already had some wet dreams of you. He imagined you beneath him, your precious body shivering and responding to his touch, to his kisses. Your cunt wet and ready for him, just how he wanted to.

“Y/N…” Tate cooed, unable to hold back any longer.

“Yeah?” You opened one of your eyes and spotted him, sitting on the bed with his fists clenched over his thighs, while his breathing looked kinda rapid. “You ‘kay?”

“No.”

“Uh? What’s wrong?” You reincorporated and sat straight beside his warm figure. Your right hand touched his left, rubbing it up and down with your thumb.

Tate shoved you to the bed, pinning your arms above your head and holding them tight.

His breathing pattern was no longer normal. It was a heavy one.

His dark brown eyes locked with yours. Your orbs were wide, not understanding what the hell was going on. Or maybe you did but were in denial.

“Please. I want you.” He purred, seeing you with puppy eyes, the ones he knew you couldn’t resist.

“Hahah, you funny.”

He let out a frustrated whine, almost begging on his knees for you to get the hint.

“I’m not kidding. Pretty please. I need you.”

“Do you mean…?” You raised your head a few centimeters to look at his crotch in order to confirm your suspicions. Your cheeks had a cute blush as soon as you noticed Tate’s erection restrained by his jeans. It looked painful, and it actually was.

“Yes. I want to. Please, I truly need it. Please, please, please?” His voice was shaky and low, a needy desperate whisper. “Can I?”

This wasn’t what you expected for today. You saw Tate as a best friend, but you couldn’t deny he was handsome… And that he already provoked butterflies in your stomach before.

Hesitantly, you gave a shy nod with your head, giving him consent to continue. “But Tate… I’ve never done this before, I dunno what to do, I—” You trailed off, being cut off mid-sentence when Tate placed his lips over yours. The kiss was slow and tender, not rough at all. Your bottom lip was between his, as he nibbled it with extreme care to not hurt you.

After some seconds, he pulled apart and led his hand towards the side of your face, brushing some hairs away. “Don’t ya worry, princess. Leave it all to me, hm? I’ll be gentle. Unless you don’t want me to.” With that being said, he leaned into your neck, pressing his mouth on your sensitive flesh. He left sweet kisses, making you hum as you melted under him.

His lips continued to tease your skin, leaving some little bites between every kiss, trailing down to your collarbone. Tate stopped there and helped you get rid of your blouse, tossing it aside and continued his journey, this time kissing your sternum while his right hand cupped one of your breasts, kneading it gently over the fabric of your bra. He pulled down the straps and took off the piece of lingerie, setting your tits free.

The cold air hit you and your nipples perked up, looking ravishing and making him desire you even more.

He introduced one of the hardened buds into his warm mouth, sucking it greedily and making lewd wet sounds as he did so. His left rubbed the other nipple in circles, taking it with his thumb and index, pulling it and pinching it.

“Hmph… Huh…” You let out soft whimpers, slightly arching your back meanwhile he abused your breasts.

Tate stopped after some minutes, letting go of your nipple and looking at you, grabbing your chin and tilting your head to the side. He approached your ear and whispered, “You like this?”

“Yes…” You begged. Your voice was already ragged and shaky.

Instinctively, you pressed your thighs together, rubbing them as a pathetic try to feel some relief. Tate realized it and spread your legs with one of his hands. He took his digits right to your clothed pussy, eagerly rubbing the spot where your clit was.

“Someone’s already wet? Cute.” He giggled and took off his striped sweater, throwing it away. He positioned himself between your limbs and pulled down your pants, mesmerized as he saw your damp panties. Tate continued rubbing your bundle of nerves over the fabric of your underwear, still fascinated at how humid you were.

This was the moment he had been waiting for the past weeks. He wasn’t going to need to jerk off to your photos anymore, because now he would be able to jerk off to your tits in person.

Tate removed the last barrier that was stopping him from touching your womanhood directly. He pulled them down to your ankles and you helped him to get rid of it by shaking your feet.

He got closer to your cunt and placed your legs over his shoulder, spreading your folds with two of his large digits, blowing some air at the sensitive meat. Finally, he started sucking on your swollen clitoris, enjoying the feeling of your dampness against his face.

“Mmh…” He moaned, still toying with the nub. You grabbed him by the hair, not thinking about what you were doing. You just let yourself go and pulled him closer to your pussy, wanting to feel more. Your body twitched, unconsciously bucking your hips against his mouth that was currently making slurping sounds.

His attention changed and was now on your slit, teasing just the entrance with his hot tongue, while his nose rubbed against your clit. He lapped your pretty cunt, savoring your juices as if they were a delicacy.

Looking at your adorable face contorting in pleasure, he introduced his ring finger into your wet, tight hole. It was a slow and kind movement because the last thing he wanted was to hurt you. He slipped it deeper, pumping it in and out with care, increasing speed after a few seconds once he saw you comfortable. “Tell me if it hurts…”

“Mhm… It feels nice. Huh…” Your melodic whimpers and moans were just too much for him. He could listen to you for the rest of his days and never get tired of you.

Without further ado, he introduced his middle finger, now finger-fucking you with two. Tate’s thumb was also working wonders on your lil’ bundle of nerves in circular motion.

She was clenching around Tate’s large fingers, that he curled inside of her, hitting the right spot to make you squirm and feel a new and foreign sensation in your lower belly.

“Fuck it, I can’t wait anymore.”

He undid his belt, unzipped his pants and pulled down his boxers, quickly getting rid of them and letting them fall to the wooden floor.

You just stared in awe; it was the first time you saw one in real life.

Tate grabbed his hardened cock and stroked it a few times on top of you, finding amusing your silly reaction. The reddish tip was glistening with pre-cum, which he used as lube. He spat at your pussy and rubbed his slick saliva with two digits, before finally thrusting his dick.

He did it slowly, beginning with the head. Eventually, he pushed his entire length, hitting your cervix and stretching you out for the first time.

“Fuck, you’re so tight!” Even if he was taking the lead, he was a whiny mess, vocal and loud.

He continued pounding into you, his gaze never leaving your face. Tate loved how you rolled your eyes to the back of your head and how your little mouth was letting out such nasty sounds.

The room was filled with slapping and wet sounds, created by his skin slapping against yours, his balls always hitting you with every stab. Again, he placed your legs on his wide shoulders to have a better angle and pump into you deeper than before.

His big veiny hands were roaming all over your body, specifically your breasts. Within minutes, he developed an addiction to them. Probably because of his mommy issues? He grabbed them roughly, tweaking both of your nipples as he fucked you mercilessly.

Tate lolled his head as he felt your hole gripping him tight. Very tight.

He increased the pace and moaned your name, begging you to squeeze him tighter.

“Oh, please, please, please!” The blonde kept whining. He left one of his hands taking care of your nipples, while the other went back to torture your clit. He stroked it in circles, and then up and down, applying the enough amount of pressure to make you beg for more.

“Tate, I feel like I’m—”

“It’s okay, let it go, mhm?”

You couldn’t hold yourself any longer and squirted all over him, coating his lower body with your warm fluids.

“Oh, oh, oh, oh, gonna cum!” Tate pulled out from your cunt and pumped his cock with his hand finishing with a loud moan. His hot sticky white cum coated your breasts and abdomen, creating an incredible sight that he always imagined.

All spent, Tate threw himself next to you on the bed, pulling a blanket to cover both of you as he filled your pretty face in candy pecks.

“Did it hurt? First time usually does.” He looked at you, concerned for your wellbeing. “I was too rough?”

You laughed and shook your head no, caressing his messy locks with your fingers, tenderly scratching his scalp. “Don’t worry, I’m fine, really.”

Tate smiled at you and kissed you on the lips, “You’re so pretty, Y/N.”

You hugged him from behind, him being the little spoon this time. Your mind was going wild; you were still processing what happened and was about to drift to sleep when he whispered.

“Y/N…?”

“Mh, what is it, Tate?”

“I love you… Please be mine?”

[garoujo]

✩ ˛˚ . NAGI SEISHIRO ; — nagi’s never been one who cared about running late before, so why does he now?

ஜ ˖ ࣪࿐ྂ warnings! none, fluff, early date scenario. ♡ ˖ ࣪࿐ྂ note! these random writing ideas are haunting me istg! why is my brain suddenly trying to work again :< back w my baby <3

nagi seishiro has never unnecessarily ran for anything in his life

call him a slacker, lazy.. he never felt the need to exceed more energy than required — always looking for ways to get him out of everything that he found bothersome.

so why is he running now? casting glances at the screen of his phone between strides because he said he’d meet you at 1pm and he’s got 3 minutes but he’s 5 minutes away. he can remember the way your smile twitched at the sides and the little, subtle glow your eyes held when you asked if he’d like to visit a new cafe with you and he shrugged his shoulders with his ‘kay. hes thankful that the messy mop of snowy hair that falls over his features helped to hide the way the tips of his ears flushed that day.

but why’s he remembering that now? what a pain.

nagi huffs as he slows at the crossing, panting softly before he’s tapping his phone screen again. he’s almost there but he’s sweating hard.. he could really go a bath, maybe he would’ve worn something a little lighter than his usual oversized clothes if he knew he was going to be running through the streets.

the crossing turns green & nagi’s off again, another few blocks—a few heavy breathes and it’s like a relief when he’s turns the corner to see you’re still there. still waiting.

“nagi?” you question suddenly as his tall figure shuffles its way towards you, his hair is more disheveled than usual and you think it’s amusing how suddenly wobbly he looks—urging you to reach to steady him as he catches his breath.

“ah, sorry..” nagi’s words are breathless as he finds himself leaning his weight onto you, just enough for him to balance himself before he takes another deep breath. “i think i’m gonna die.”

although you’re still curious.. and concerned, he could’ve been running from some mob or wild animal for all you know. “are you okay, what the hell?”

“nah, i kinda fell asleep.” nagi manages and you really try to hold in the giggle you can feel bubble through your throat. but you still let a grin twitch at your lips as he gives you a sleepy look.

“you’re only 2 minutes late.”

“ehhhh, really? so bothersome.” that’s when you really laugh as you feel him drape more of his weight on top of you, self-consciously you think.. but maybe it’s because he can just pass off the pinker flush of his skin right now to exhaustion but also a little embarrassment.

“oh, uh. i brought you this.“ nagi speaks again after a few more moments, reaching in to rummage around in his hoodie pocket before he’s pulling out a crumbled little package and placing it softly into your palms.

“a vitamin jelly?” you ask earnestly and there’s something charming about the way he shrugs before sending you a starry-eyed look then suddenly looks away when you meet it with your own.

“uh.. yeah, i thought you’d be hungry i guess. the store was busy so it was a hassle.”

“are you hungry?” it’s an honest question and you can see nagi humming it over in his mind for a few moments before he’s shrugging again, “a little. i’m sweaty, wanna take another nap now.”

although you think he seems a little perkier now as you let yourself grab onto the hem of his sweatshirt, urging him to follow behind you as you send him a pretty smile from over your shoulder that makes him burn.

“it was probably all the running, big guy. let’s get you some food.”

“hey, i just didn’t wanna make you wait.”

nagi thinks it was worth it though because you’re beautiful when you’re caught somewhere between a smile and a laugh— still holding onto the vitamin jelly he brought you and everytime his hand brushes against yours he can feel the urge to intertwine it with his own.

“are you sure you weren’t just excited to see me?” that really gets to him because he swears the rate of his heartbeat spikes like he just ran around tokyo twice, it’s unfamiliar—he’s not used to stuff like this. how’s he supposed to act? what does this even mean?

“don’t tease me, ‘ts no fair. ‘m too sleepy to fight back now. wanna carry me?” nagi drawls out lazily and he’s a little surprised when you actually laugh. another brush of his hand against yours as you walk and he thinks that maybe he’ll let it linger with the next one.

“no, but i can buy you lunch.”

“hm, ‘kay.”

© 2023 GAROUJO. please do not copy any of my layouts or writing and translate or repost onto any other sites.

[talesofesther]

yours only

Wednesday Addams x Reader

Summary: You make Wednesday feel something she never felt before; jealousy. And maybe a bit of something else too.

Requested by anon

A/N: First time writing for her, who stole my heart pretty quickly. I hope this is okay, hope I could somehow capture her personality that's definitely not an easy one. Let me know what you think. Requests for her are open. <3

Masterlist

You felt a little petty, just a little, as you walked amongst the woods to meet Xavier in his secret spot, the one where he stored most of his paintings.

But he's been a good friend of yours ever since before Wednesday came to Nevermore, and if she can spend however long she wants in that coffee shop, why can't you do the same?

You weren't expecting to fall for her, in reality, you couldn't stand her in the beginning. But one doesn't choose one's feelings, and when underneath all that secrecy and nonchalant attitude she does things like; take an extra tray of breakfast for you when you wake up a little late, or help you in class when you forget the particularities of a flower, or even send Thing to your room in the dead of night with a written note for you to meet her the next day for an outing, which was code for sneaking out to investigate, but the gesture is there.

It was safe to say you were a goner. As much as it might be — her words, not yours — a terrible decision.

But lately, Wednesday has been distant. And you were jealous, even if you didn't have the right to be. So over the past week, you've been spending a good amount of time with Xavier. He's been helping you with your drawing skills, the piece you're working on now is almost done, and you're quite proud of it.

The entirety of your day is spent in Xavier's shed, laughing and painting and getting your head off of things. You think you see a dark silhouette spying on you from outside, but when you go looking, it's gone.

It's already late at night when you do go back to your dorm, your roommate is sneaking into her boyfriend's room tonight, so it's just you. You're looking forward to the quiet night.

You open the door to your room with a yawn escaping your lips. Your backpack is thrown somewhere to the side and you don't care much for where it lands, you stretch your muscles, a little sore for being in the same position most of the day. Only then do you take a glance over your room, and in the right corner, sitting by the end of your bed on the floor and mostly covered by the darkness, is Wednesday.

You almost jump out of your skin. With the way your heart is beating under your hand, you swear your soul did leave your body for a second; "holy shit Wednesday, a little warning next time."

Wednesday gets up, taking a single step towards you before deciding against it, her eyes never leave you. "You're distracted today, why?"

"Hello to you too," you grumble, taking off your jacket, "and, how did you even get in here, the door was locked."

There's a ghost of a smirk on her burgundy-painted lips, and it gets you wondering if they'd leave a print on you if you stole a kiss. "You can't expect a simple lock to stop me," Wednesday tells you.

You chuckle, knowing damn well there were few things out there that held any power over her. You just don't know that you happen to be one of them. "no, of course not."

A beat passes where you just look at each other, both waiting on something, wondering whether the other person’s feeling the same way. The air feels heavy around you, almost electrical.

You clear your throat and walk past Wednesday and to your wardrobe to pick up your pajamas, figuring a shower would do you good.

Wednesday has a staring contest with the back of your head as you rummage for clothes, her jaw is set tightly in place and she hates the feeling that's in her stomach right now. "You didn't answer my question," she says, with more bite than usual.

You huff, running a hand through your hair as you turn to her again. You walk up closer, your personal space mingling with hers.

She sucks in a sharp breath when you stop before her, her gaze darting to your lips before settling back on your eyes. It's so fast that you don't notice it.

"What question?" You ask.

Wednesday gulps, twisting her words into what she really wanted to know; "why are you spending so much time with Xavier?" She deadpans, as if she couldn't care less.

Your lips tilt up on the sides, because you know better, but you won't indulge her just yet. "Why are you spending so much time with Tyler?"

"This is childish."

"Indeed."

"His father is the sheriff, and I need information on the attacks," Wednesday raises her brow, "my relationship with him is merely convenient."

You bite the inside of your cheek, nodding softly, "well, Xavier has been my friend for years already, so…" You shrug and walk around her, heading to the bathroom.

"It doesn't look like it."

"Like what?" You turn and ask impatiently, waiting for her to do the same and look at you again.

Wednesday does so slowly, staring at you through her lashes. "Like you two don't want to be more than friends."

There's something complicated about her tone that you can't quite put your finger in. Her eyebrows are a little crooked, her eyes glinting just a little brighter under the moonlight and her hands painfully closed into fists. You realize she's upset.

You soften. For her, this might just be the equivalent of a crying plea. You walk over to where your backpack lays forgotten on the floor and carefully pull out your sketchbook. The cover is black and a little worn as you run your fingers over it, taking a steadying breath.

You sit down on your bed with it and pat the space beside you.

Wednesday regards you with caution, she's lost and not in control, two things she absolutely hates; however, she doesn't feel as uncomfortable when it's with you. She takes calculated steps to your bed and gently sits down beside you, closer than she thinks she should have, but it's too late to back down now.

"Xavier has been giving me a hand with a few of my drawings," you explain, opening your sketchbook on the last page you used, "and uh- this is the one I'm working on."

Wednesday takes the sketchbook from you, holding it tenderly between her fingers as if it could fall apart. Her heart beats erratically against her ribs, for a moment she thinks she can hear it. The feeling is foreign to her.

The drawing is a perfect picture of her, undoubtedly by your eyes, as she sits beside you in class, focused on her notes. It's a sight you're all too familiar with, one that you love. The lines are a little rough still, all black charcoal and dark ink; tracing the lines of her jaw and hair to perfection. It's pretty, probably not a word Wednesday usually would use to describe herself, but it's true now.

"I couldn't see Xavier as more than a friend," you tell her quietly, so as to not break the bubble of intimacy around you, "I'm afraid that spot is already taken."

Wednesday's gaze snaps up to you, and you think that's the most emotion you've ever seen her let on. You wish you could bottle this moment up like fireflies in a glass jar.

You reach out a hand, and Wednesday holds her breath before you even touch her, you do too. Her hair, deep black and so incredibly soft, meets the pad of your fingertips as you push it behind her ear. The motion is all delicacy and shyness, just a breath over the fragile line between you and her.

Wednesday's lashes kiss her cheeks when her eyes almost drop closed for a millisecond before she takes back control. She's stiff, hands now with a bruising grip on the sketchbook, "what are you doing?"

You inch closer, and when she doesn't pull away, you gently cup her cheek; her skin is a little cold under your touch. "What do you think I'm doing?"

For the first time in her life, her words get caught up in her throat before she forces them out; "Something you'll regret."

Smiling against your own volition, you whisper; "do you really believe that?"

Wednesday wonders if you're aware that you're killing her slowly; agonizingly, because you're so kind with her demise. She's the one who closes the gap between you, when you're just a hairs width away from her, one hand letting go of your sketchbook in order to bunch up your shirt in her fist and pull you to her.

It's everything you're not expecting, her eagerness, urgency even. She's kissing you like she's trying to memorize you, not sure if you're real or not. It's still soft though, still uncertain, still her.

When she parts, it's slowly, her lips almost refusing to let yours go. The outlines of your mouth are faintly smudged with her lipstick, testimonies of her affection, of how lucky you are to have it.

The sight pulls a smile from Wednesday, and consequently from you as well once you see it. Because albeit small, her smile is real, and you think you already have your next project for the sketchbook.

⋆* ☾ ⋆*･ﾟ:⋆*･ﾟ

Thank you for reading this little story. Feedback and reblogs are very much appreciated. <3

Wednesday’s taglist: @milkiane @bookfrog242

[wjehfshs]

Hope you are having a good day/night

I was wondering if I could request tf 141 boy x male reader who had went missing after recklessly sacrificing themself to make sure the team got out safe either with hostages or information your choice. At the time Ghost and Reader were in a relationship, but with reader going missing getting suck in enemy hands for 3-5 years (your choice) they think he's dead.

What happeneds when they hear about someone killing off enemy forces and possibly having Intel the team needs? What is it turns out to be their missing comrade? Reader's unrecognizable from the scar cover half his face, a missing eye, his vocal cords damaged so his voice sounds different (if you're ok with it maybe a cybernetic arm?) Who would put the dots together first? Maybe reader stayed away knowing they would be hunted and didn't want the people they cared about to get hurt?? Specially Ghost!

Thank you for the request! This is actually a great idea

Reader being reckless and self sacrificial, Ghost X Reader (romantic) reader being kidnapped, reader being tortured, reader having scars and missing limbs (replaced with a prosthetic arm) male reader, mentions of violence. Drug mention once, Ghost being depressed and somewhat having no will to live ☹️

Gore mentions

4 years ago, on a mission, you where being reckless, little care for your own safety, you where trying to get information from the other side about where they had illegal drugs stored, you where killings people left and right, not caring if you where sneaky or not

Unfortunately due to your recklessness you had gotten caught and thrown into a helicopter on the rooftop

Simon saw this and he tried to chase after you but someone attacked him before he could get to you, and everyone else was too far away

They tried tracking the helicopter but it was stolen and they left it in the middle of nowhere and probably took a plane back to base

For months Simon was stressed, they tried so many times to get you back

They just couldn’t find you

After 7 months Soap finally told Ghost it was probably too late

He didn’t wasn’t to believe it but there was nothing else he could do

For the next 9 months he was self isolating, rarely ate, obviously depressed

The others sometimes even heard him crying in his room

They tried to console him but it just didn’t work

They noticed he was also more violent on the battlefield

You where all he had, of course he loves his friends but you where the love of his life, the only one who he felt safe letting hold him

Everyone else he flinched away from but you, he felt warm in your grasp

That’s why he grieved for so long, he lost his only will to live

After more time passed he finally came to accept it, of course he still loved you but he knew he would never see you again

One day, they heard from Laswell that someone had attacked the opposing side, killing them in mass numbers.

Simon immediately knew something was up, he could just feel it in his gut

They had been sent off to the base to see what was going on

When they got there it hit them how many people actually got killed

“Bloody fuckin’ hell” Simon commented

“Out of all my years in the military, this is probably the worst case I’ve seen” Price mentioned

The base that they where at also manufactured high tech material such as guns and… prosthetic limbs. They noticed one of the rooms holding fake, robotic arms had been broken into, one arm being ripped out from its holding spot

They walked around a bit before they heard a crash

“Sh, there could still be someone here” Price whispered before he snuck towards the sound

When he saw a figure rummaging through the canned rations, he raised his gun, seeing that he was unarmed

“Put your hands in the air!” He shouted, the figure turned around, face scarred and torn, the back row of his teeth showing on one side, and, a cyber arm

They knew this was the guy who broke into the room

The room was dark so immediately Gaz turned the lights on to get a better look at the man

As soon as the lights buzzed on and the white light filled the room, Simons heart jumped, he felt like he was going to faint

It was you, the love of his life

The way he knew? The giant scar under your eye on the right (your left) side of your face

He dropped his gun and stepped closer

The others, after some time, came to the realisation that it was their missing teammate from 4 years ago

Simon ran up to you, engulfing you in a suffocating hug

He kept muttering your name over and over again, tears in his eyes as he was rocking you back and fourth

“I miss you so much, you don’t even know, I’ve grieved over you for so long, life has been so empty without you” he kept going on about how much he loves you and missed you

The others also put their weapons away and ran up to you

Simon let you go for a little bit to let the other’s suffocate you in their one big group hug

They had never seen Simon so soft and loving towards someone, it was almost a shock, for the past 4 years, even before you went missing, he was cold and almost empty

Simon cupped your face and traced his fingers over your scars he had never seen before

He was just so overwhelmed he let his tears spill as did you, he took off his mask and pulled you into a loving kiss, he felt like he was dreaming

After he finally pulled away to let you breathe, his eyes trailed down to your robot arm and brought your hand up to his chest

Even if you where missing a nose and had horrible scars, exposing the inside of your mouth, he loved you just as much

He felt like his heart was full again

After they finally got back to base you explained what happened during the past 4 years

After the other side took you to their base, they tortured you everyday, they forced you to work for them in their factory

During a freak accident while you where working, your arm was torn off

Later on after the accident you tried to escape but they set off a grenade close enough to you to do damage, but not kill you, resulting in the tissue of your face coming off

The other scars where from years of torture

You had finally managed to get a hold of some explosives and a gun with some ammo and had gone on a killing spree, grabbing a cyber arm from one of their rooms, and dashing from room to room to hide

You had finally learnt from your lesson all those years ago, you finally learnt to be sneaky and not just go for the kill when you wanted

That night after you said your good nights to everyone else, Simon led you to his room and pulled you to his bed

His grip on you never let up through the whole night

He was so unbelievably happy to have you back in his arms

Even while you where asleep he stared at you lovingly, tracing your face and leaving feather kisses all over

He couldn’t stop himself from crying himself to sleep (from happy tears ofc)

[swamp-chicken]

distant worlds, ethubs, 2042 words

“You know, I really should have established a timeline for how long I would be your employee,” Bdubs sighs, stocking boxes with enderpearls. “Because I’m sure not doing this forever.”

Etho is sitting at his desk, idly doodling in the corner of his accounting book. “Aw, you’re not?”

Bdubs stretches, cracking his neck. “No! I need to go and build stuff! Make things! I have my own life, you know.”

Bdubs’ pink shorts are riding up a little. Etho tries not to look. “Mmhmm.” he says instead, his go-to when he loses track of a conversation. The doodle on his accounting book is starting to look suspiciously like a series of little hearts. Etho hastily scribbles them out. 

‘You know, you don’t have to sit here and supervise me. I’m not going to wreck your shop or anything.”

“Yeah, but…” But it’s been years since Etho has had Bdubs like this, working at his side. 

Bdubs sighs dramatically. “You don’t trust me?!”

Etho spirals the pen around the page. “You’re a trainee, I gotta keep you on the straight and narrow.” In this case, lying is less pathetic than telling the truth.

Bdubs huffs, but doesn’t argue. They subside back into silence, Etho stifling a smile at the muffled expletive Bdubs lets out when a shulker box closes on his hand. 

The pen travels across the page.

Years ago, a day like this wouldn’t have been so rare. 

 ———

Bdubs was humming and hawing over Etho’s newly-constructed bridge.

“It’s bad,” Etho sighed.  “You can say it’s bad.”

“No, no, no,” Bdubs chided. “No one’s saying that. It just needs a little… umm…“ he rummaged through his inventory, then brightened. “Leaves! Dude, just add some leaves.” He scattered some across the bridge railing with a flourish. “See? Fixes everything.”

Etho hummed, unconvinced. “And then maybe some… trap doors under those?”

Bdubs clapped his hands. “Oh yes, that’ll do it.”

Etho placed the trap doors and stepped back to take in the full picture alongside Bdubs. “I dunno…”

Bdubs’ hand dropped to his shoulder and squeezed. His touch was distractingly warm. “It looks great! Very rustic.” 

Etho tilted his head. It did look a little better than before. 

Satisfied that today’s job was mostly done, he went to go empty his inventory. Bdubs decided to stick around as he worked. He had been doing that a lot more lately. 

Etho put away the final stack of cobblestone and cleared his throat. “There’s actually, uh, something I’ve been meaning to ask you.”

“Oh, yeah?” Bdubs was tooling around on Beyonc, showing off her elegant lines and five-block jump.

Etho watched them circle the area and tried to breathe through his sudden spike of anxiety.“Remember the game we worked on? In the modded server?”

Bdubs kicked Beyonc into a flying leap that landed her on top of Etho’s chest stack. “How could I forget? All those hours wasted!”

“Well, yeah.” Etho chewed his lip. “I was actually thinking of building something like that here. In vanilla.”

“You can do that? With redstone?”

Etho shrugged. “I can try.”

Bdubs snorted. “Friggin’ genius.”

“The thing is, though…”

Bdubs nudged Beyonc forward and she landed gracefully before Etho.

“The thing is though…” Etho continued. “I actually may need help—” 

“I’ll do it,” Bdubs interrupted, before Etho had even finished his sentence. 

“You sure?” Etho hesitated. “I don’t want you to put you on the spot or anything…”

“Of course!” Beyonc reared and Bdubs sat comfortably astride her. “We’ll do it together. As a team.”

It was Etho’s first time leading a big project, so he wanted it to do things right. He chose the location and dug out the area himself. He even decided to build a worker’s shack where he and Bdubs could sleep and store all of their materials. 

In retrospect, Etho thought as he mapped out the floorplan, marking two separate bedrooms for him and Bdubs, he shouldn’t have been nervous about inviting Bdubs to join. Bdubs was a kind person and they had already tackled several projects together.

Etho paused. So kind that he probably felt like he couldn’t turn Etho down. So kind that he unflinchingly put up with all of Etho’s various idiosyncrasies and insistences. So kind that, any time they had a disagreement, he would capitulate with a laugh, easy and unbothered.

“You don’t have to help,” Etho blurted the first time Bdubs came to visit the worker’s shack. 

Bdubs was standing in the doorway of the bedroom Etho had built for him, but still a glimmer of uncertainty crossed his face. “What, you don’t want me here?”

There was a lump in Etho’s throat. “No, I just…I don’t want to force you into anything.”

Bdubs placed his bed down in the room like a declaration. “There’s no forcing.” He met Etho’s gaze and smiled, so warmly that Etho felt it in his chest. “I’m gonna decorate this place so good.”

Etho had worked with Bdubs before, but he had never lived with him. It was different, not having to say their goodbyes at the end of the day.  Instead, they walked back to the worker’s shack side by side, chattering about everything and nothing. It was different, waking up in the morning and finding Bdubs already in the kitchen, sleep-mussed and cooking, asking Etho how he liked his eggs. 

It was different— Bdubs’ toothbrush in the bathroom, the wet puddle after he showered. The flowers that appeared in the windowsill and the laughter that echoed through the halls. Prepared meals, easy company, warm nights of doing nothing much but enjoying each other’s presence.

It was a different kind of torture, Etho learned, having Bdubs so near and liking him so much. He was too kind, making eggs just the way Etho liked, telling stories that made him laugh, helping unflinchingly with the enormous task of building this arena. He was so kind that Etho couldn’t help falling in love with him. 

Nights were the worst, were the time when Etho felt furthest from any semblance of rationality or self-control. Lying in bed, staring through the darkness, he felt hyperaware that Bdubs lay just a short distance across the hall. So kind that he just might let Etho climb into bed with him. 

Etho rolled over and willed himself to sleep. 

Days passed, and then weeks. Spring was pushing into summer and the days were getting hotter. One particular day the heat was so oppressive that it even invaded the underground bunker where Etho had been doing most of the redstone wiring. 

When the sweat started dripping into Etho’s eyes, he had no choice but to take a break. He stood, wiping sweat from his face with his shirt bottom, and took a deep draught from his water bucket.

Bdubs, he knew, was probably even worse off. He was building outside in the blazing sun. Etho decided to check on him. He felt bad that Bdubs was working so hard on a project that Etho himself wasn’t certain they could finish. 

The end of the season had been announced a week ago and since then they had been scrambling to complete the arena before they had to leave this world and go to the next. There was a pit in Etho’s stomach every time he thought about it. This had happened to them last time, and now it was happening on the project that he was leading— the project that he had roped Bdubs into, that they had spent so much time on.

The worst part, though, was leaving their home. Etho didn’t know when he had started calling the worker’s shack home, but he had. It certainly felt more like home than any other place he had built on the server. He couldn’t deny that was in a large part due to Bdubs’ presence. 

He didn’t know what the next world would hold. He didn’t know if he would find an excuse to live with Bdubs again. He didn’t even know if Bdubs would want to work with him again, especially after this project had turned out to be such a thankless grind.

Etho found Bdubs building on the outskirts of the arena. He was shirtless, sweat beading along his shoulderblades. The sight was so overwhelming that Etho almost turned to leave.

Bdubs was grunting with the effort of building a wall, dropping blocks into place. “You don’t have to push yourself so hard,” Etho ventured once he felt more in-control. “I’m not even paying you.”

Bdubs put his blocks down with a heavy sigh. “You think at this point my ego’s not all tied up in this too?”

Etho snorted and drew near. “Good point.” This close, he could see the smile lines crinkling at the corner of Bdubs’ eyes. “Want a break?” He held out his water bucket and a snack. 

“Golden carrots!” Bdubs exclaimed. “You spoil me.”

He took the water bucket first, though, and drank from it deeply. Etho’s eyes were drawn to his throat as he swallowed, to the sweat droplets that chased each other down his torso. 

“Ahh,” Bdubs sighed, refreshed, and Etho snapped his gaze upwards. “Do you mind?” Bdubs asked, gesturing to the water.

Etho shook his head, confused, but before he had much time to ponder, Bdubs was tipping the bucket over his own head, sending water crashing down around him. 

Etho squawked and hopped backwards out of the splash zone.

“Oh,” Bdubs groaned, “Oh, that feels so good.” His hair was dripping, plastered to his head. Water was still sheeting down his body and soaking into his jeans. His eyes fluttered open and he caught Etho’s shocked gaze. He blinked. “You said you didn’t mind!” 

There was a note of petulance in Bdubs’ voice that wouldn’t have been there a few months ago, before they had started living in each other’s pockets. Before Bdubs—before he was comfortable—

Something inside Etho snapped. 

Bdubs lifted the bucket uncertainly, “I can get more water, I didn’t think it would be a big deal.”

Etho carefully took the bucket out of Bdubs’ hands. 

“…Etho?” Bdubs was stepping back awkwardly, falling back on those sloppy forms that had gotten him killed by Etho more than once.

Etho grabbed Bdubs’ hand and Bdubs froze, blinking up at him from under his soaked fringe, eyes soft and worried. 

“You—“ Etho tried. “I—“ His ears burned with embarrassment.

He gave up on speaking and pulled the mask underneath his chin, pressed his lips to Bdubs’ hand.

“Oh,” Bdubs said. So kind that he didn’t pull away.

Etho turned Bdubs’ hand and pressed a lingering kiss to his palm.

“Oh,” Bdubs said again, voice hushed. “You don’t— do you?”

———

Etho wants to reach out, wants to take Bdubs hand, but he can’t. He’s too afraid Bdubs will run through his fingers like water, melt away like he has so many times before.

Bdubs is squirmy that way, surprisingly hard to pin down. One minute he’s swearing his eternal devotion, the next he’s mocking Etho, eyes gleaming with mirth. There’s months and years he’s not even there at all, times when he’s nothing but a sore spot in Etho’s memory. 

That day in the unfinished arena, Bdubs had kissed him. His hair had dripped into Etho’s eyes. Etho hadn’t thought anything of kindness that night when they curled together, Etho’s chin propped on his chest. Bdubs was too busy looking at him like he was a puzzle he had found the last piece to. 

Things change, Etho knows. That world ended, a new one began. Bdubs never kissed him again. 

It can never be like what it once was, Etho fears. Here is too distant from there.

“Done!” Bdubs announces. “Your enderpearls are all sorted. Now can I leave?”

Etho sighs, but he doesn’t have any good reason to keep Bdubs longer. “Yeah, that should be it for today.” 

Bdubs is already packing his inventory. He pauses on his way out the door. “You know, you didn’t even comment on my uniform.”

Etho is caught off guard. “I—I didn’t?”

Bdubs gives a spin. His legs are on full display. “I made it just for you!”

Etho swallows. When he meets Bdubs’ gaze, he winks. “I’ll see you tomorrow, boss.”

[the-dixon-effect]

Just a Girl

requested by: @dixonsgirl93 which you can find here -> masterlist

A/N: thank you so much for the request my love!! i love this concept so much that it had me up at 4am writing it after recovering from a long-haul flight, so so sorry that this took so long for a little drabble xx

It was too tempting.

Not after years of stumbling around in dirty rags and a single pair of worn combat boots. Not after fighting for your life every single day, were you going to pass this up. Today, you were safe. And right in front of you, in this completely empty mall, were a pair of pristine black stilettos.

You held one in each hand as you admired them, a treasure of a world lost in time. You felt like a different person just clutching them.

"Hey, Maggie!" you are unable to control the wide smile cast across your lips. "Look what I found!" the girl glanced in your direction from the entrance of the store, scoffing at your excitement.

"Whatcha gonna do with those?" she asked, chuckling, as she jogged up to the display table coated in a thick layer of dust.

"I don't know. Walk around. Dance. Put 'em on a table and forbid anyone from touching them," you said quietly, smiling as you palmed at the crisp black leather. "They could be a symbol. Y'know, Lord of the Flies style," you joked, meeting the farmgirl's eyes. Strangely enough, the ghost of a boutique was relatively empty apart from these shoes, a few scraps of useless clothes scattered around and many plastic hangers adorning the white-tiled floor.

"Alright, fine. But ya' have to bring that little black dress back, too," she teased, in that familiar Southern drawl. Pointing to a rack of clothes on the other side of the store, you spotted a lone black dress threatening to fall off the flimsy hanger. It was no surprise that when the remaining survivors came through these parts, rummaging through stores and kitchens and bunkers, a pair of high heels and a mini dress didn't make the cut for the survivalist supply list. It had been a couple years by now, and indeed no one back at the prison would care if you indulged in a bit of fun. Besides, you're just a girl. And a girl's gotta do what a girl's gotta do to get by.

~

Most evenings were spent in the foyer swapping stories and enjoying the ever-expanding group's company, now that everyone was feeling more comfortable in the prison. Daryl was perched on the second step of the cool, steel staircase fletching some bolts for his crossbow, after the fairly uneventful run earlier. One thought did linger in his mind, however - as he tuned out to the rest of the conversations engaging in his midst. You had briefly shown him what you managed to pick up back at the abandoned mall, some scraps of food, some comics for Carl, and... what could only be described as an image from one of his wildest dreams. Or worst nightmares. What the hell would he do with himself if you suddenly appeared in that dress? And those heels? Probably run, and hide someplace where nobody would notice his reaction. And just when he was imagining what you would look like in that outfit from earlier, he heard a voice call out from upstairs.

"Hershel! You better believe these things are harder to walk in than a peg leg!"

The foyer erupted in chuckles as conversations ceased while everybody looked up at you on the balcony, held up firmly by Maggie who couldn't control her laughter either.

"Come on down, Y/N. Betcha can't do it!" the grey-haired man exclaimed as the rest of the group watched you stumble to the top of the staircase.

Oh God. She's so popular. And beautiful - were the thoughts swirling around in Daryl's head as he turned a swift 180 and looked up at your perfect figure. You looked so pretty when you laughed like that; a face that lit up the room - lit up this rotten world - when the sweet sound that even a siren couldn't mimic echoed over the walls of the dismal building. And that outfit; the smooth black dress that clung to your thighs so perfectly with a neckline that revealed just enough to make him go insane. Those heels. Daryl always had a thing for girls with nice legs, but he was always too embarrassed to mention it. It may have slipped out in front of his older brother once upon a time, and for the years to come he never shut up about it. Humiliating Daryl whenever a gorgeous girl like you walked past. Daryl never denied it, though, that you and that perfect body of yours were gonna be the death of him someday. And that felt like right now.

"Maggie, don't you dare let that girl fall!" Michonne shouted, laughing as she kicked her feet up on the cafeteria table and leaned back.

"Daryl, I swear to God, if you don't catch me I'll kill you," you began, addressing the archer that was gawking up at you, the one slightly obstructing your wobbly path down the staircase. Everybody in that cell block watched the poor man snap out of his daydreams as he shot up and grabbed your hand as your knees threatened to buckle beneath you. Maggie let go of her tight grip on your shoulders and erupted into giggles, as though she were playing Cupid.

"Thank you, Daryl," you said sweetly, not realising that Daryl is physically suffocating as you clutched Daryl's calloused palm. You took the opportunity to steady yourself on both feet and do a little twirl, lifting Daryl's arm up over your head as you spun around as gracefully as you could manage. A couple of cheers escaped from your audience, making you smile deeply. You hadn't felt this pretty in a long time.

"Whatcha doin' playin' dress-up anyway?" Daryl drawled, quietly.

"Well, I'm just a girl."

taglist: @alldevilsarehere90 @poisonmenegan @radcollectivesoul @emilykolchivans @pinchoftheoutsiders guys the taglist is looking a little lonely!!

[tomssexdoll]

omgg write a fluff w tom/ bill where him and the reader are high outta their minds that would lowk be hilarious it could also be a little smutty in the end 👀

HAHAHA YESSS

Stoned

PAIRINGS: Tom 2007 x Female reader CONTENT: FLUFF + SMUT (just a bit) SYPNOSIS: Y/N and Tom are high as FUCK, they are friends and she comes over to his house to try this "new" thing he has. She assumes it's some sort of drug or weird guitar solo, they watch movies, cuddle and at the end get a lil bit freaky... A/N: haven't been high in over a year so don't bash me if i get the feeling wrong, it's from what i remember lmao WARNINGS: teasing, kissing, drug use (weed)

Me and Tom have been best friends for over 10 years, he has been my rock, supporting me through everything. He never changed, always hanging out with me, showing me off to new friends. He was amazing.

One day he called me and said he had something to show me, something "new" he wanted to try out with me. I immediately knew it was a drug or a weird guitar solo, he is full of surprises I guess.

I got into my car and started to drive to his house, wondering what stupid thing was going to consume my day.

I arrived eventually and greeted Tom, hugging him tightly and walking inside, sitting in his room. He came in with a little baggie of what looked like weed, he handed it to me and I sighed "Tom this is a lot of weed, do you plan to smoke it all tonight?" he chuckled "no of course not, if we like it we can try it again at the party next week" he rummaged through his draws, pulling out a small black bong, decorated with skulls.

"Wowww real edgy" I rolled my eyes playfully, he laughed and slapped my arm playfully "shut up it was on sale, i'm not spending 50 fucking dollars for a small bong."

I stood up and grabbed the grinder that went with is, putting the bud in there and grinding it down, once it was finished I grabbed the bong, packing some of the weed in there.

"Wow you really know how to do this huh?" he smirked, admiring what I did. "Well my brother smokes and it's not like I haven't done it before so.." I shrugged and grabbed the lighter, sparking it and hovering the flame over the bud, sucking in the smoke. (did i just give you guys a tutorial..)

I inhaled it, feeling it burn the back of my throat but in a nice way, a familiar feeling to when I smoked cigarettes. "Fuck..that's some good shit..where did you get it from" I blew the smoke out, starting to get the effects already.

My head a bit woozy, eyes drooping ever so slightly and everything becoming a bit more brighter. I looked back at Tom, finishing the rest of the cone, the way he threw his head back when inhaling was so sexy..the way his lips slightly parted and his eyes slowly shut.

"I got it from Greg, you know, Janes older brother" he looked back at me, blowing out the smoke as well. "Oh.." I said slowly "well it's not dodgy weed I'll tell you that" I giggled.

Everything was a bit slower, my talking, movements. It felt wonderful, like I was as light as a feather.

"Let's have some more, cmon" he scooted closer to me and we had 3 more cones each, it was hitting hard now, things were much more slower, I looked down at my hands and they were slightly out of focus, like I had 4 hands.

I got up from his bed and grabbed his hand, going towards the kitchen and raiding his pantry, grabbing all the snacks I could find and a few cans of soda. I sat down and dropped everything onto the coffee table, laying down next to him, resting my head on his lap, "should we order pizza.." he mumbled, I nodded slowly and grabbed my phone, dialing the store and ordering 2 large pizzas, one cheese and one meat lovers.

"Fuck..we are gonna feast" he chuckled, his eyes super red and droopy, I smiled and picked a movie to watch.

After 45 minutes our pizza FINALLY ARRIVED. I ran to the door and quickly gave the pizza guy the cash, slamming the door and almost tripping trying to get back to the couch, "fuck!" I yelped, Tom just laughed and grabbed one of the boxes, stuffing his face with pizza.

"Mmm...so good" he groaned, I grabbed a slice and ate it, savouring the taste "has pizza ever tasted this good?" I said, it was like they put magic into it, usually pizza was mid but this time it was amazing. Our movie was ending soon, we picked a horror, which was kinda dumb because we were so high.

I sat up and held him tightly at the suspense, screaming and hiding my face into his arm when the jumpscare popped up "jesus" he chuckled "it wasn't that bad" I rolled my eyes and softly shoved him "shut up..wasn't even scary.." I mumbled

By the time we had finished 3 movies everything was DEVOURED. We decided to chill for a bit, have a talk and enjoy each others company. I layed down on the couch and he spooned me from behind, holding me close.

Usually we'd always cuddle, it was never weird to us but this time, the tension was super high. Not even in a bad way, it's like the air was thicker...the way his arms were wrapped around me and his face pressed softly on the top of my head made me feel some kind of way.

I turned around and looked up at him, it's like in that moment, we were the only people alive. His eyes washed over with desire and love, surprising me. "You know, you are so beautiful y/n, you're the most beautiful girl i've ever seen" he smiled softly, brushing a hair away from my face.

"Yeah whatever, I'm sure you tell every girl you hook up with that.." I rolled my eyes, secretly enjoying the praise. "No, y/n..I mean it, you are so beautiful" he leaned closer, our lips basically inches away.

"Tom..." my breathing hitched slightly, searching his eyes for deciet but all I saw was sincerity, love and compassion, I smiled softly, blush creeping onto my cheeks.

"I want to kiss you.." he whispered, his breath hot on my lips.

"ok pizza breath.." I giggled and leaned in, kissing him gently. He kissed back, wrapping his hand around to the back of my head and pulling me closer, locking our lips into a passionate embrace. His kisses got more urgent, his erection becoming prominent in his pants, pressing up against my leg.

"See how you make me feel? You drive me crazy" he moaned against my lips, slipping his tongue in my mouth. I reached my hand down and softly palmed his clothed cock, making him groan softly.

His hands snaked down to my waist, then to my ass, squeezing it softly. Then, his hand came back up, slipping under my shirt and grabbing my breasts, rubbing his thumb over my nipple, sending shivers down my spine.

I had grabbed one of his shirts earlier, removing my bra since you weren't able to see much anyway, it was getting a bit hot so I changed my outfit.

"My shirt looks so good on you..might have to fuck you in it" he mumbled, grinning widely.

I chuckled "we'll see about that", I rolled us over, flipping me on top of him, deepening the kiss.

[kkongdakz]

“ IS THIS MINE? ” ft. ot9

synopsis : their reactions when they see you wearing one of their clothes.

ot9 x gn!reader, genre : fluff, warning : none, wc : 1.922

it's one summer night, after a long day of work, that jiwoong comes back to the apartment you share together. after unlocking the door, he is greeted by the smell of the meal you are preparing, and it's when he looks at you that he realizes, the shirt you're wearing is strangely familiar to him. « isn't that my shirt? » he said as he approached you, slipping his arms around your waist to give you a back hug. looking away from your pan to observe him, you notice that his gaze is even softer than usual, you seem to have touched his heart. shrugging your shoulders and offering him a smile before rising on your tiptoe to kiss his cheek, you finally get back to cooking, ignoring his wandering hands that slip under the shirt you're wearing to brush against your skin. « it doesn't matter, you're cute in it. » he says, placing a kiss on the bridge of your jaw.

when you left home this morning, you had absolutely no idea that it would rain cats and dogs as you left school. luckily for you, your best friend hao, had an apartment not far from the campus, to which you had a spare key. so, running as fast as you could, you reached the street where his building was located before inviting yourself into his completely deserted apartment. hao was probably still working as a private music teacher, so to make up for your sudden intrusion, you decided to cook him a nice hot meal. but first, you had to get rid of your wet clothes — you hurriedly rummaged through his closet, looking for something to cover yourself, putting on one of his t-shirts, you then headed to the kitchen to cook. an hour later, the apartment door opened, revealing a hao who wasn't all that surprised to see you here, « when i saw the weather, i knew you'd be here. » the radiance of his smile filled your heart with warmth as he approached you. placing his hands on your cheeks, he left a brief kiss on your forehead before looking you up and down, « isn't that my shirt? » you nodded and explained to him why you were wearing it, without noticing that his heartbeat had suddenly accelerated by the simple fact of seeing you warring his shirt.

working in a café wasn't always an easy task, especially when you come across customers who are either clumsy or too bitter to be at least a bit friendly. today was just such a day, when a customer had just jostled you and spilled the contents of four cups of scalding hot coffee all over your outfit. your colleague and friend hanbin rushed to help you, forcing you to go to the back of the store to change and check for any burns on your skin — you were so frustrated that you ended up crying when you realized you had no spare clothes left in your locker. finally deciding to rummage through hanbin's locker, you found at least one long-sleeved t-shirt which you hastily put on, quickly drying your tears. just as you were ready to get back to work, hanbin entered the locker room, approaching you with a look of concern on his face. « are you okay? » you didn't answer, just nodded, not expecting for a second that his fingers would slide over your face. raising your eyes towards him, you noticed that he was carefully inspecting your skin to make sure you had no wounds. « i'm fine, i promise. » you say in a small voice, as a relieved sigh leaves his lips, his hand slipping into yours mechanically. suddenly, he frowned, trying to hide the smile that appeared on his face, « is that my shirt..? » — before he could say or do anything, you placed a kiss on his cheek, slipping away into the breakfast room without answering. unfortunately, he never got to tell you that day that seeing you in his t-shirt had made him miss a heartbeat.

waiting patiently for your boyfriend matthew to return from his day's work, you began to feel seriously lonely and bored. and above all, you missed him terribly. so, to take your mind off things and wait for him to come home, you headed to his bedroom to hide under the sheets — but you suddenly came across his sweatshirt lying on the bed. without hesitation, you slipped it on and wrapped yourself in the blanket, smelling your boyfriend's familiar scent all around you. you really couldn't wait for him to get home so you could take full advantage of the little free time you had together. after long hours of waiting, the bedroom door finally opened, and you leapt from the bed right into his arms, matthew barely catching you with a crystalline laugh. « hey baby. » he said softly, pulling you close to him when you didn't want to move a millimetre away. after a second glance, he noticed that the sweatshirt you were wearing was the one he'd forgotten to take this morning on his way out — and he was far too happy that you were carrying him to say anything. but without much surprise, you could easily feel his heartbeat against yours.

the last thing you'd want to do is look for something decent to wear in taerae's closet. but it was a case of force majeure and you had no other choice. so after a long search and a few grimaces here and there at the ever-present errors of bad taste, you finally found a sweatshirt that wasn't so bad that you could barely tolerate it. before going down to the living room, you looked several times at your reflection in the mirror, while cursing about the fact that you've stained your beautiful new t-shirt and have to wear this instead. but in the end... the good thing was that he smelled like him — the same cologne on his clothes that comforted you. finally descending the stairs to throw yourself literally against him, snuggling into his arms, taerae's eyes instantly noticed that you were wearing one of her shirts instead of her sister's. « isn't that my shirt? » if your eyes could shoot lightning bolts, he'd probably be six feet under by now. but that was before you noticed his sudden shyness and silly grin, « it really suits you, wear it more often. » — and you couldn't say no to him, because he was far too adorable.

getting lost in ricky's dressing room wasn't something you had planned when you decided to spend a few days at his place. when all you wanted to do was find a piece of jewelry you'd left at his place sooner, you found yourself among his many sweatshirts and shirts. while you tried not to give in to the temptation to try on every item of clothing around you, a particularly pretty shirt seemed to call to you from the back of the closet, urging you to put it on without further ado. but what you didn't expect was to run into him as soon as you walked through the door. his catlike eyes settled on you, before a smirk played across his lips, his finger pointing at the shirt you were wearing, « isn't that my shirt? » pretending to look around you before shrugging your shoulders and looking up at him, you end up running far away from him as fast as lightning. unresponsive at first, ricky eventually looks behind him as he watches your silhouette move away, letting a mocking laugh escape him. « why are they running? they're cute in it. » — he said to himself before going back to his room to get dressed, thinking about how pretty you looked in his clothes.

something gyuvin would have loved you to do, but you always refused : you wearing his soccer shirt during his games. but doing that kind of thing wasn't your thing at all, especially when he was wearing the same shirt all the time. but maybe for once, for his very last game of the season, you could make the effort to wear his spare shirt with pride. without telling her, you slipped into his room with the help of his brother, to borrow it before going back home, slipping gyuvin' soccer t-shirt into your backpack. obviously, you did a little preparation before heading off to school, waiting outside the locker room door proudly wearing your best friend's player shirt. when gyuvin finally came out, his eyes instantly falling on your silhouette, the biggest and most beautiful smile was drawn on his lips. he approached you just as quickly, wrapping his arms around your body and sending you whirling through the air, « isn't that my shirt? » you nodded, laughing at his enthusiasm, before slipping your arms around your neck, « yes, it's yours. are you happy? » — of course he was happy, with you wearing his shirt, he was 100% sure of winning this game. « if i win, i'll kiss you. » he said suddenly, resting you on the floor before rejoining his team, without giving you time to reply.

« what are you doing here? » was the first thing gunwook said when he entered his room, finding you on his bed doing your homework. raising your head towards him for a few seconds, quickly returning to your math problems, you replied nonchalantly : « your mom let me in. » — the boy nodded and discarded his belongings before joining you on the bed, resting his head against your back. but it was at that precise moment, when it came into contact with the material of the sweatshirt you were wearing, and the logo drawn on it, that he recognized one of his favorites top. « wait y/n, » he began, tugging lightly on your sleeve, « isn't that my sweatshirt? » turning your gaze towards him, you raised an eyebrow, a playful smile on your lips. « yes, it is. what? you don't like it when i wear your stuff? » — gunwook's cheeks took on a rosy hue, as he quickly looked away. he finally dropped down beside you, clearing his throat as he busied himself on his phone, ignoring the sudden burning heat in his heart, « i don't mind, do what you want. » — the big baby trying to act like a man.. how cute.

thanks to the fact that one of your teachers was absent, you were able to leave school early — but unfortunately, that wasn't the case for yujin, who didn't have the same classes as you. so you decided to pick him up at school after spending some time with his sister at his place, but you didn't expect to be cold all of a sudden. so without question, you slipped on one of his sweatshirts before heading off to school, choco-banana milk in hand. after waiting a few minutes, yujin finally stood in front of you, one eyebrow raised despite a silly little smile on his lips, « isn't that my sweatshirt? » — shrugging, handing him the choco-banana milk to shut him up, you slipped your hand into his and dragged him behind you. of course you didn't notice his cheeks flushed slightly, until he spoke up, « keep it. it looks good on you. gremlins. »

·˚ ༘ taglist (fill out this form to be added to the taglist) : @snowflakemoon3 @annoyingbitch83 @kpoprhia @neroislost @invuwrld @ilovechanhee @wtfhyuck @beomibeom @shiyachime @deafeningtyrantmilkshake @watamotee33 @shiningstar-byulxx @zuzu-the-simp

[guccifrog]

MEDDLE ABOUT P3

TW: this chapter mentions SA please don't read if you don't feel comfortable

band!chris sturniolo X reader

warnings: swearing/ band chris/sa

ᵗʰⁱˢ ⁱˢ ᵐʸ ᵒʳⁱᵍⁱⁿᵃˡ ʷᵒʳᵏ// ᵈᵒ ⁿᵒᵗ ˢᵗᵉᵃˡ ᵒʳ ᶜᵒᵖʸ

˚ ༘ ·˚꒰Meddle about-chase atlantic꒱ ₊˚ˑ

1:35 ━━━●───── 3:47

↻ ◁ II ▷ ↺

↠ⁿᵉˣᵗ ˢᵒⁿᵍ ↺ ʳᵉᵖᵉᵃᵗ ⊜ ᵖᵃᵘˢᵉ

ʷᵉˡˡ ᶜᵒᵐᵉ ᵃⁿᵈ ᵍᵉᵗ ⁱᵗ ⁿᵒʷ

part 2

☆ ★ ✮ ★ ☆

y/n's pov

"Have a good day and- and oh you better be on time tomorrow!"My boss's words echoed as I walked out of the store, swinging my tote bag over my shoulder. I let out a sigh, the cold air stinging my cheeks. It was only 6:00 PM, but I had asked him for an early dismissal since I still had to get ready for that stupid party tonight. Ugh, why did I ever agree to go in the first place?

I hurried down the busy street, weaving between people who seemed to be in just as much of a hurry as I was. The thought of that stupid party only made me more impatient, but I knew I had to go. I really regret saying yes but I can't cancel on Liv last minute. She'd kill me.

Thirty minutes later, I finally made it home, my shoulders slumped in exhaustion. The moment I stepped inside our tiny apartment, I kicked off my shoes and collapsed onto my bed, too tired to even change out of my clothes. A quick glance at the clock on the wall told me I had exactly an hour to get ready.

I pushed myself up off the bed, wincing as I stretched out my stiff muscles. I groaned and walked over to my tiny closet, rummaging through the hangers and mess of clothes until I found something halfway decent to wear.

I didn't want to go all out but I also didn't want to look like a total loser. After much thinking, I settled on a black mini skirt with some ripped fishnets and a sleeveless band shirt that I cropped, and finally my platform dr. martens. Not my best outfit but it would have to do. I quickly straightened my hair and threw on some makeup.

"y/nnnn" Olivia called from the living room. I let out a small groan, knowing that meant she was already waiting for me. "Just give me a minute!" I yelled back, quickly putting my rings, earrings, and necklaces on. Once I was finally satisfied with my appearance, I grabbed my purse and jacket and headed out of the room.

As I stepped into the living room, I could already see the impatient look on Olivia's face. She was sitting on the couch, her posture perfect as always, wearing a fitted red dress that hugged her curves just right. Her long brown hair was pulled back into a sleek ponytail and she had a pair of black heels dangling from her fingers. "About time!" she said with a roll of her eyes. "You took forever."

I rolled my eyes playfully" Shut up I just came back from work" I said as I walked over to the couch and sat down next to her. "Besides, we have to be fashionably late "I added with a grin. Olivia laughed and smacked my arm lightly.

We were interrupted by a knock on the door. "Are you ladies ready ?." Said a deep masculine voice. I glanced at Olivia, who nodded, indicating that it was indeed her boyfriend. We both stood up and headed towards the door.

I let Olivia open the door, not really wanting to deal with him right now. As soon as she did, her boyfriend, Alex, stepped inside, his green eyes scanning me up and down. Ew.

I always hated Alex. From the moment Olivia introduced him as her boyfriend, there was just something wrong about him. Maybe it was the way he always looked at me like I was a piece of cake, or maybe it was the way he treated Liv like shit, but she was too blind to see. Whatever it was, I couldn't help but feel uncomfortable around him.

As he stepped into the apartment, I glanced at Olivia, trying to gauge her reaction to his presence. She was always so damn good at pretending like everything was okay, but I could see the tension in her shoulders and the way she bit her bottom lip.

"You look amazing, Liv," he said, his voice smooth as silk. "As always." He gave her a quick kiss, making my skin crawl.

"Thanks, Alex," Olivia replied, her voice a little shaky." Let's go" I added, trying to break the awkward silence. "We're gonna be late." I grabbed my jacket from the couch and shrugged it on, hoping to hurry this whole thing along. Olivia shot me a grateful look before turning back to her boyfriend.

We got inside Alex's car, I sat in the back, as usual, and Olivia in the passenger seat. I glanced out the window as Alex drove, trying to ignore the uncomfortable silence that settled between us.

After a fifteen-minute drive, Alex finally pulled up in front of a fancy looking house. I sighed, knowing that this was going to be a long night. As we got out of the car, I couldn't help but feel a little out of place. The other girls here were dressed in designer dresses and heels, while I looked like I was going to a rave.

We walked up to the door and Alex knocked, waiting for someone to answer. A moment later, a tall, blonde girl with a smile on her face opened the door. "Alex, you're here. Come in." She stepped aside, motioning for us to enter. I shot Olivia a look as we walked in, feeling even more uncomfortable.

The house was huge, with high ceilings and expensive looking art on the walls. There were so many people here, all of them dressed to impress. I felt even more out of place than before. I tried to stay close to Olivia, hoping she would make me feel better about being here.

A few minutes passed, and I found myself getting bored. This party is lame as fuck. Olivia seemed to be having fun, talking to some of her friends, and laughing, but I was regretting coming here. I mean, I know I should support her and all, but I just can't stand this.

"Liv," I said, trying to get her attention. "Can we, like, go somewhere else or something? I'm kind of bored here." Olivia glanced over at me, a frown tugging at her lips. "Okay, hold on a second," she said before turning back to her friends.

I sighed in frustration as I waited for Olivia to finish her conversation. This party was even worse than I thought. The music was awful, the people were fake, and I was starting to feel dizzy.

I decided to go get a drink since Olivia was taking forever. I made my way through the crowd, trying not to trip over my feet in these ridiculous shoes, and finally reached the kitchen.

A group of people were already gathered around the counter chatting and laughing. I stood in the back, trying to decide what I wanted to drink, I grabbed a glass and filled it with ice, then poured some soda into it. I wasn't in the mood to drink alcohol tonight.

Just as I was about to turn back with my drink, someone bumped into me, causing me to spill soda all over my shirt. I let out a frustrated groan, already hating this night even more.

"alright motherfucker" I turned around, ready to give the person who bumped into me a piece of my mind, but the words died on my lips when I saw who it was.

"I'm so sorry- wait y/n ?"

"Matt ?" I said, my voice small. He looked just as shocked as I felt. "What are you doing here?" I asked.

He smiled. "Lucas invited the whole group" He shrugged before looking down at my now ruined shirt. " Shit..um..I'm so sorry about your shirt" He said softly.

"It's fine don't worry about it," I forced a smile, trying to play it cool.

"Matt what the fuck is taking you so long…y/n?!" A voice called out behind him, causing me to glance over my shoulder.

"hey ?" I said looking at Chris who looked so confused. "What are you doing here ?" he asked now standing next to Matt. "I'm just here with my roommate…uh…she's right there I guess," I said pointing at Olivia. She was still talking to her friends and didn't seem to notice.

"Ohhhh, I see…well…um…good to see you…I guess?" Chris said nervously, clearly not sure what to do with the situation. Matt was now talking to Nate who was standing behind Chris.

I glanced down at my shirt. I was wearing nothing but my bra under it, but they got wet as well and It was getting uncomfortable. "fuck" I muttered under my breath, and Chris seemed to notice. "you alright?" he asked, looking genuinely concerned. "Yeah, I'm fine." I lied, not wanting to make a scene.

"Wait why is your shirt wet ?" Chris asked, now looking really concerned. I glanced down at my shirt again, feeling a little self-conscious. "It's nothing," I said, trying to sound more confident than I felt. "It's just a shirt, I'm sure it'll dry off soon." I forced a small laugh, but he didn't seem to buy it.

"Here," he said suddenly pulling his sweater over his head, revealing a black tank top underneath. "Take this." He held the sweater out to me.

"Chris it's fine really…" I started to say, but he cut me off.

"No, it's not. You need it, and it's not like I'm cold or anything. Take it." He insisted, I hesitated for a moment before finally taking the sweater from him. "Thanks, I appreciate it." I smiled softly.

He nodded, seeming satisfied." I'll go find a bathroom to change into this. Thanks again, Chris." I said, and he smiled warmly. "No problem, I'll be waiting for you here when you get back." I nodded and made my way through the crowd.

After a few minutes of searching, I finally found a bathroom, just as I was about to twist the doorknob, the door opened from inside. And as if this night wasn't already bad enough, it was none other than Alex. "Oh hey, fancy seeing you here," he said, a smirk playing on his lips.

"Alex if you're done using the bathroom please move aside so I can get in," I said, annoyance clear in my voice. He chuckled leaning on the door frame.

"What's the hurry, Y/N? We're all friends here, aren't we?" He smirked, his eyes roaming over my body. I felt a shiver run down my spine. I gritted my teeth, trying to keep my anger in check. "I'm not your friend," I said. "And I'm in a bit of a hurry."

He laughed, stepping aside but as I was about to walk past him, he grabbed my wrist. "Oh wait, where's the fire?" he said, pulling me closer. "Let me just check if you're okay…" His other hand reached up and cupped my cheek. I felt trapped, my heart pounding in my chest as I tried to free myself from his grip.

"Let go of me, Alex," I hissed through gritted teeth.

He laughed, tightening his grip on my wrist. "Oh, I'm just trying to help you out. You don't have to be so…aggressive." He leaned in closer, his breath hot against my ear. "You know you want this, Y/N. You've always wanted it."

I tried to wriggle out of his grasp, feeling panic rising up inside me. "Let go of me, Alex," I repeated. I felt so trapped, so helpless.

His grip tightened even more. "Oh, come on," he growled, "you're not going to make this easy, are you?" He leaned in closer than before if that was even possible, his hot breath fanning my cheek.

I couldn't breathe. "I could make you scream," he whispered into my ear, his hand still gripping my wrist so tightly it felt like it was going to break. "I could make you beg"

I felt tears prick my eyes, but I refused to let him see them. I wouldn't give him that satisfaction. "Let me go, Alex," I whispered, trying to keep my voice steady.

He laughed, as his hand trailed down my body, resting on my hip. "You know you want this, Y/N," he whispered in my ear, his breath sending a chill down my spine.

"Alex please let go" I plead, tears starting to fall down my cheeks.

" Alex ? Y/n ?" A voice called out from the end of the hallway and Alex finally let go slightly pushing me.

oh no no no no this can't be happening right now, I thought desperately as I felt the tears running down my cheeks, the warmth of them making me even more miserable.

Olivia stood there, her face flushed and her eyes wide with anger. "What the hell is going on here?" she demanded, her voice shaking with fury.

☆ ★ ✮ ★ ☆

lmk what you guys think ♡︎

taglist★

@mattestrella @littlebookworm803 @sturniolooooo @athaliahxoxo @rac00ns-are-c00l4 @crybabycat1 @ducksturniolo @pepsiimaxx @ilovemattsworld @secret-sturniolo @fuckshitslover @lvr-111 @opheliaofficial07 @chrislapdog @therealcody1 @rodysuntiedtie @kiarastromboli @sturnsgasoline @sunsetmill @strniololoverr @sleepysturnss @st7rnioioss

[felassan]

Letters from Lovers

Transcriptions of the letters from the various gear store items. under cut for length.

Isabela:

“My dear Hawke, Do you know anyone with a flock of parrots? I'm trying to cheat on a bet with Varric and the stakes are exceedingly high. If you help me, I shall take you to that breathtaking beach you so crave. Free of ancient horrors, too. I think. I'd hate to take respite from all my adventures, but there are other ways to make the heart flutter. In fact I'm already imagining a few. Aren't you? Sailing there can be fatal, but Admiral Isabela will keep you safe. Are you interested? I would love to see you again. Yours, Isabela”

Morrigan:

“My love, Now before that grin reaches your ears, perish the thought that this letter was my idea. 'Tis Kieran who would not give me peace until I wrote to ask how you are faring. Regale us, if you please, with another of your tales that I might read to him in bed. He is particularly fond of those wherein you spur mischief whilst you save the day. Thank you for your most delightful gifts. I shall make certain to wear them the next time you come home. Dream of me until then, my Hero of Ferelden, and have a care. Morrigan”

Dorian:

“My dearest Amatus, Home is ever as it was: a glittering whirl of dancing, politics, and murder. I'm used to people staring daggers at me - I quite relish it, actually - but the glares seem to possess a new intensity since my return to Tevinter. Do they disapprove of House Pavus freeing its slaves while I work in the Magisterium to end slavery across Tevinter? Perhaps they simply covet my cheekbones, and who could blame them? Real reform will take time, but we're making inroads. I miss you terribly, Amatus, perhaps almost as much as you miss me. I treasure you and your belief in my work here. Yours always, Dorian P.S. I wouldn't take it amiss if you might send me another barrel of that dreadful Fereldan beer?”

Alistair:

“My love, How are you? Is it true that you recently killed darkspawn with only a mean glare and a pointy stick? Ferelden is ablaze with this rumor! You do give people so much hope. Tales of your heroism never fail to astonish me and almost ease the pain of going to sleep without you by my side. Almost. I can't wait to be with you again. I'd bring you some roses, you could give me a tour of the keep, we'd drink with the new recruits and then cuddle in a tent. Without the new recruits! Tent time is just for the two of us. I want to make that clear. Now excuse me while I practice my death glare and rummage through the dog's stash of sticks. I love you. Yours forever, Alistair.”

Tali:

“By the way, I left something for you up in your cabin. Go have a look.” - Tali’Zorah  --- “Dear Shepard,   As you may remember, I presented this picture frame to you as a gift on the Normandy. It was my way of expressing my admiration for you and our bond as comrades-in-arms. On the back of the metal frame, I've emblazoned a promise that will never fade - 'Shepard, wherever you go, I'm with you.'  I know it's not much, but...this is what I look like under the mask. I'm sorry if it's not what you were expecting. I know Quarian faces can be a bit...different. Every time you look at my picture, I hope you will be reminded of our adventures on the Normandy, from our battles against the Reapers to our intimate conversations in the privacy of our quarters.    I am not one to express my emotions openly, but thank you for being my friend, my confidante, and my inspiration. I look forward to many more adventures together.  Keelah se’lai,   Tali’Zorah”

Bonus:

Shepard's N7 acceptance letter, from Anderson:

“N7 Congratulations on your graduation From Captain David Anderson Shepard, When I graduated from the N7 program I had the honor of meeting Admiral Grissom, the man who inspired me to pursue a career in the service, and I never thought I’d feel prouder in my life. I was mistaken. Don’t get me wrong, it was a big day. An important day. But there’s something about welcoming driven young people like yourself into the ranks that’s also pretty damn satisfying. Your distinguished service record may have gotten you into this program - but it was your courage, integrity, and tenacity that’s enabled you to join an elite few. You represent the best of humanity, and I feel certain you’ll make the galaxy a better place. And I’m not the only one who feels this way. Becoming an N7 means the entire Systems Alliance is telling you one thing - we believe in you. Let me end by saying this. Welcome to the team Shepard. We know you won’t let us down. David Anderson Systems Alliance Interplanetary Combatives Academy N7 N7 Acceptance Letter”

[lovingseventeen]

Hi!! Hope you are doing well!!

I absolutely love your account.

I was wondering whether you could write a scenario with svt where the boys realize they are in love.

svt realizing they’re in love ˚ ༘♡ ⋆｡˚

a/n: hi! and thank you for this request! i’m so so sorry this took so long for me to get out. i always had this in the back of my mind and i’ve been thinking about so many scenarios for the boys.. i hope it’s better late than never.. also SORRy this is a day later than i promised, school got in the way

also trying a slightly different format because the bullet points occasionally make the posts so long.. BUT ALSO ALSO: thank you for 800!!

(established relationships unless stated otherwise)

seungcheol:

he knew he liked you for the longest time, but love was another word that was so big, so strong, it intimidated him to even think of it. but he knew when he realized he was always looking for you

he was driving home and everything he passed by, his thoughts connected them to you a bakery? y/n’s birthday is coming up, i should surprised them with a cake. a billboard for a new movie? would y/n want to go see that? the trailer looked good.. a park? is that the same one we went to when y/n made that bento? even a convenience store: y/n better not be eating ramen again..

jeonghan:

it's when he sees that you don't fall so easily for his pranks. he knows you're on the same wavelength as him, truly his other half.

you're at the airport about to take your first trip together. "baby i forgot our passports at home" he suddenly tells you, pretending to rummage through his backpack.

you look back at him with a half smile, "no you didn't, you're just being silly. c'mon we have to start checking in now." he's smiling back at you even if his little prank didn't work. as he follows you from behind, he feels a little shift in his feelings for you. ah, is this what they mean about love? he wonders.

joshua:

it's when the two of you are in the car and you're singing (half-yelling). he's humming along to parts that he recognizes as he drives, but not without stealing glances to see you passionately belt out every single word.

it's at a red light that he looks over to you and at the same time, you're enthusiastically bumping along to the rhythm in your seat. you point to him as you sing along to some cheesy lyric about being in love except to him, it's not cheesy at all. instead, he feels his heart skip a beat when he realizes he loves you.

jun:

it's so simple, really. this one time, he makes this opera voice to you as he laid out options for dinner.

"so we can order from our usual or try that new place nearby that just opened up~~" he asked, trilling his voice in random places dramatically.

you think out loud, humming, but then replying in the same silly manner as you choose. "i think we can try the new place~~" you sing back, making your voice two octaves lower. you're both laughing after but his smile feels a little deeper to him and he wonders if this feeling is what he thinks it is.

hoshi:

hoshi has never run from his feelings, he's always embraced them.

it's when he picks you up for a date and sees the skip in your step to greet him. you fall into his arms for your usual hug but with a little more accidental momentum.

he laughs as he catches you, "hi pretty" he smiles. your arms are wrapped around his middle and your face is so close to his as you're smiling back at him just as big. this is when he knows. "i love you, you know" he declares, kissing your cheek.

wonwoo:

one night where he can’t sleep, he figured he really needs to hear your voice. he accidentally disregards the time, not realizing he’s been awake for so long and that it’s three am. you pick up your phone after couple rings (it took you a moment to wake up).

“hello?” you asked, voice muddled with sleep. he can't help but feel some kind of relief, some kind of comfort so specific to you.

“i just wanted to hear your voice."

"right now?" you can't help but ask. this is where he checks his phone and realizes how late it actually is.

"oh, i'm sorry" he almost whispers.

"is everything okay?" your concern warmed him.

"yeah, yeah, everything's fine," he assures you, almost whispering those three words so late into the night. "go back to sleep, love." he's never really used that pet name, but he figures it'll have to do for now.

woozi:

it hits him where he spends the most time: his studio. the last two weeks or so he hasn't been able to see you and he's been starting to feel bad. he tries to text you when he can, but he still replies hours later or not at all. somehow, his schedule was arranged down to the hour.

yet you managed to drop off food for him at the hybe building occasionally, brightening his day even a little bit. he was always in the middle of something else, whether it be a dance practice, a going seventeen shoot, a photoshoot, recording, or producing. so it was always a manager or an assistant taking the food from you to bring up to him.

when jihoon finally gets a day off, he's almost rushing to see you. he almost expects you to look unexcited, or even mad, but he's surprised to see you simply happy. he takes you out to lunch and as you wait for your meal, he blurts out what he feels is a necessary apology.

"sorry for what?" you looked back at him, puzzled.

he's caught off guard at your confusion. "um, for not really being around the last two weeks," a nervous hand comes up behind his head, "i feel like i didn't reach out enough."

you take his hand, "weren't you just working? it's a busy time right now, isn't it?"

"well yeah, but still-"

"baby i wouldn't have agreed to dating you if i would have a problem with your schedule," you assured him, "as long as we're still trying with each other, we'll be fine."

"i still feel bad," he sighs, taking your hand in both of his.

"baby, i wouldn't want you to worry about us on top of all of your responsibilities," you tell him. "i'm really okay, honestly, and if anything ever comes up, i'll promise to talk to you."

he sees the genuine look of understanding from your eyes as you sit across from him. he feels his heart hammering in his chest and it's like he's been brought to the months where we was just falling for you. but this time, it's much grander and he knows it's love.

dokyeom:

he knew he was in love the first time he made you laugh. he's probably the one member who would realize it before you were officially dating.

you held onto his arm as you laughed, shaking your head as his antics and this is when he knew. you looked at him with the warmest smile and he was already falling.

far into the future people will ask him when he knew you were the one and he'll be the kind to remember all the details of this encounter: the hoodie that you were wearing, how your hair looked, the joke he was telling, etc.

mingyu:

so you took him to one of those sip and paint cafes so the two of you could have pottery in your home with a personal touch. mingyu is also quite artistic so it would be fun. everything is going smoothly until his large hands accidentally knock over the water cup meant for rinsing your paintbrushes. then as he's trying to quickly clean up, the paintbrush that he set down accidentally touches his mug, ruining his image.

he's whining after ruining his piece, but you assure him that it's still fine. you laugh a little, encouraging that he can probably try to fix it. but, even with an attempt to correct his mistake, the little puppy that he painted is still awkward-looking.

he feels like you're just trying to comfort him when you tell him that you actually adore it. after your pieces are fired, and you're allowed to bring them home, he sees you use his mug. he sees you continue to use his mug with his painting on it weeks after too.

one day you're sipping from it and glancing at the slightly chubby puppy on its front. you smile at it fondly as you hold the cup, "i really love this, you know," you chuckle, finger tracing the puppy's cheeks.

he almost has to stop himself from blurting out, "well i love you." when he catches that thought, he realizes.

minghao:

hao realized he was in love when you went to travel to another country for a week. you sent him pictures from museums you visited of artwork you thought he would appreciate. you sent him food you ordered at a local restaurant, texting him: i'll bring you here one day because you'd like this! or we're coming back to this.

when you finally return form your trip, he helps you unpack and settle back in. however, what you're excited for is showing him everything you brought back for him.

"so i got you a couple things."

one of his hands is coming up to pat your head lovingly, "you didn't have to but thank you." he sits across you as you eagerly open up your suitcase and begin you little haul.

"so i got you this top at this local store there because the mesh has this slightly distressed feeling and you usually look good in these."

"then there were these little pins that i thought would be cute if we had matching ones."

"oh! there's this ring i found at a flea market and it reminded me of your usual jewelry!"

"and the last thing was.. drumroll please," you request and he starts patting his thighs to oblige, "some tea i thought you might want to try."

he's smiling as he picks up and examines the items you got him. when he notices you looking at him expectedly, asking him, "so what do you think?"

he knows it and he can't hold back, "i think i love you."

seungkwan:

he knows it when you tease him and he can't even find it in himself to get annoyed. you two probably have a series on ongoing jokes that neither of you can count.

where he'd usually get annoyed or whiny if one of his members teased him, he can't help but just look at you with adoration and you tease him with that smile. you're lightly teasing him, even bringing your face up close to his and all he can think of is kissing you.

"you're lucky i can't get mad at you," he rolls his eyes.

"you love me," you replies casually, not giving it much thought as you walk away from him.

"yeah maybe i do" he replies in a voice so low you don't hear him.

vernon:

sometimes you'd ask him if he wanted to do something random. so far you've made him watch that very weird indie movie, various weird food trends, and even pole dancing (he genuinely gave it his best effort). you'd ask him if he wanted to go with you on these mini adventures and no matter how weird, he'd usually say yes.

so one day, you ask him if he wants to try this new viral ice cream dessert that's been trending. even though some of these ventures have gotten you both to try underwhelming food, he still says sure.

as you're sitting in the shop, he watches you look at the donut and ice cream monstrosity in anticipation. "ok here i go," you announce, making sure to get a little bit of everything to get that 'perfect bite.'

"how is it?" he asks you, only to smile when your eyes light up. so it's a good food adventure day.

"oh my gosh, i think i just found my new favorite thing ever" you mumble with the ice cream in your mouth.

he watches as you push the dessert towards him, encouraging him to try it too. while he thinks that it's just a fine dessert, he could feel full watching you eat. ultimately, he feels happy that you're happy, and this is where he realizes.

dino:

in recent days his schedule had been so packed that he could barely see you, even more so since they had a comeback.

of course, he can't let his slight burn out show while he performs, but he can't ignore the weight on his heart. but still, he puts his best foot forward and gets up on stage.

what he isn't ready for is seeing you in the front of the crowd with a headband with his name on his. you've even come with one of those fans with his face on it.

the fans start cheering as they get in formation for the song and he feels recharged knowing you're in the audience. their song opens and he glances at you and sees that you're even participating in the fanchant. he knows his name is last and looks at you as you scream his name the loudest, giving him a wink too.

he feels alive and comforted. his new energy makes the song fly by without mistake and soon enough someone is already giving the camera their ending fairy. his eyes find you again and sees you blow him a kiss that makes his heart swell :')

[loousir]

[Werewolf] Mine.

Kinktober Day 2: Rut/Marking

Male Werewolf x Male Reader

Leon

Notes/Warnings: Rut, medication for said rut mentions, biting, rough, bottom reader, not sure what else to warn about

Masterlist

If you like my work, please consider reblogging!

The quiet sounds from the TV filled the quiet living room as you enjoyed your usual morning drink, trying to wake up so you could enjoy your weekend. Your boyfriend had gone out to do early morning shopping, right when all the stores opened. You knew it was getting close to his rut but you didn't expect him to come home early, nearly scaring the soul out of you. "Leon, are you ok?" You asked, watching as he rushed to the bedroom. Things could be heard falling as he frantically looked for something. "Babe, what's wrong?" You asked, growing ever more concerned. "Its here." He growled, still rummaging around for something. You tried the door handle only to feel it was locked. Using a coin, you unlocked the door and peaked in. Leon whipped his head towards you, his pupils dialated as he tried to keep his breathing steady.

"Please, where are they?" He asked, referring to the meds he took to keep his rut at bay. "I thought you were out? Didn't you have a prescription to pick up today?" You asked, still partially using the door as a shield, having never had to really go through a rut with him before. "Ugh fuck!" He growled, smacking his face in his hands as he hunched over. You hadn't seen him in rut but from what he told you, he gets very, very rough. "Fuck..." He panted out, doing his best to keep himself in check for the sake of both of you. He didn't want to do something to put you off but little did he know, you liked it rough.

You stepped into the room, revealing yourself to him, making his eyes widen. "Don't, please just, I'll take care of this myself." He said, trying to keep himself away from you. You approached him regardless and pulled him in for a hug. He was shaking. His quick breaths calmed down as he hesitantly wrapped his arms around you. "You sure you can handle this?" He asked, making you nod. Leon walked the two of you over to the bed, pushing you back against the plush sheets. You could feel him shifting, letting his instincts take over as his body grew and changed into his werewolf form. His clothes ripped and fhe tattered pieces fell from his limbs. He was one of the few who's face more so resembled his human form.

The sharp claws he had gripped at your hips, tempting to rip the pants right off your legs. You quickly stripped of your shirt but Leon's hips pinning your own kept you locked in place. "You smell so good..." He growled, pulling your pants off, having some form of restraint. You could feel his cock rubbing up against yours. It made you breathless, squirming for his touch. He loved it, seeing you desperately grab at his shoulders, begging for more. "You want me fuck you baby?" He teased, hands moving up to grab at your chest, claws barely digging into your skin as he pinched and pulled at your sensitive buds. "Yeah... Please..." You whined, making him grin. He leaned down and pulled you into a kiss. Leon grabbed your wrist and pulled your hand up to his mouth. He suckdd on your fingers, getting them wet before guiding your hand to your own hole. "Stretch for me..." He said, not wanting to risk injury by opening you himself.

You blushed more if possible and nodded, slipping one finger in, then two. You wanted him so badly. Even though he hadn't even don't much foreplay, you just wanted him to fuck you. Something about his rut turned you on so much. "Fuck Leon please..." You begged quickly, back arching up, hole aching for his cock. Leon chuckled and pulled your hand away. "Be patient..." He said, moving down so that your hips were in line with his face. "I wanna taste you first." He growled out, going in and eating you out without hesitation. Your back arched again, cock twitching at the sensation. "Oh fuck!" You moaned out, hands moving down to grip at his hair. Leon practically made out with your hole, slipping his tongue in as far as he could when he could.

"Leon please!" You begged him again, his eyes flicking up to you, hearing the desperation in your tone. Without saying anything, he flipped you over onto your hands and knees, but continued to eat you out. His hands gripped at your ass, claws, again, digging in a bit. After another couple minutes of him making you whimper and moan, he pressed himself against you again. "You ready baby?" He asked, knowing all too well how much you craved it. "Y-yes... Please Leon..." That was all it took for him to push in, gliding in easily at first. His cock was much bigger in his werewolf form, something that you were partially expecting. Your hands gripped at the sheets as Leon pushed in, stopping when you needed it. "Please keep going." You whispered out, causing his ears to perk as he slowly thrust in and out, making sure you were really ready for what was about to come.

As his pace picked up, his thrusts got harder, and harder, until he was slamming into you. His claws dug into your skin as he gripped your hips. "You're so soft inside..." He said, leaning down next to your ear. Leon leaned into your neck and started to kiss at it, leaving gentle nips along the way. All you could do was writhe and moan, completely at his mercy. At some point, your concept of time had faded and you solely focused on the pleasure your boyfriend was giving you. The fur on his chest and stomach tickling your back as you felt his strong thighs smacking against you with each thrust. His own pants and moans were growing desperate, a sign he was reaching his climax.

"Cum inside! Please!