#san looks so good but this shit ugly
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I found out akaashi calls Kuroo ‘Pain-in-the-ass Kuroo-San’, so here you all go
——-
“No, truly.”
“Like, he’s so cocky, for what?”
“Literally!”
“And don’t even get me started on his hair today; like good lord, did he look in a mirror?”
From around the corner, Kuroo and Bokuto listen intently, one with a small smirk, the other with worry in his eyes. You and Akaashi had been talking in between practices for the past three days, for hours on end, and it was about time the two captains called you out on it.
What they didn’t take into account, was the one and only, calm, collected Akaashi Keiji to be such a gossip.
Even Kuroo’s got to admit, it’s kinda hot to hear his insignificant other and Bokuto’s wrangler talk shit.
“Do you think they’re talking about me?” Bokuto asks, and Kuroo shakes his head in mischief.
“No, they’re talking about me, Bokuto.”
“How can you tell?”
“They’d never talk bad about you- one, they adore you, and two, Akaashi knows better than to risk putting you in a mood-“
Interrupting Kuroo’s countdown, there’s a groan from the other side of the wall, followed by an akaashi chuckle, “hey- he’s your man.”
Kuroo smirks, “number three.”
Bokuto’s worried expression turns to one of amusement, “ohhhh, you have ugly hair!” He cackles, pointing at Kuroo. Behind the corner, the two of you go quiet, and Bokuto covers his mouth. “Well good luck, Kuroo!”
“Thanks, Bokuto,” he chuckles, stretching before making his way around the corner to face you both. “Heyyy,” Kuroo sings as he walks towards you. He lowers his eyes as you shift in shock, and Akaashi merely looks up at him in challenge. “I was wondering where you two disappeared to.”
“Same place we always do,” Akaashi says flatly, taking a sip of his water. “I’m glad you’re able to use your cognitive thinking skills to find us.”
He gives Akaashi a fake, dramatic smile, before letting his body language drop back to casual. He casts you a look, “hey babe.”
“Hey love,” you mewl, resting your head against his thigh cutely, and he knows you know he heard you and Akaashi not thirty seconds ago. He smiles and gently uses a large hand to cup the back of your head, thumb gently stroking your temple.
“Whatcha talking about?” Tetsuro chirps, smiling fakely. “Got all nice and quiet when I came around the corner.”
Akaashi rolls his eyes, “talking about them potentially becoming a manager for your team. Why’re you acting weird?”
Tetsuro lets out a loud “ahh,” in understanding. “Was that before you asked if I looked into a mirror today?”
Akaashi smirks, “before, of course.”
“Right, obviously.”
You blink at him in mercy, “we were just kidding…”
“Oh, I’m sure,” tetsuro says, pinching his brows as he nods in understanding. Then, he hunches over to be closer to you, face to face.
“Doesn’t mean I’m not going to make you pay.”
You scream as he scoops you in his bulky arms and tosses you over his shoulder, ignoring your flailing limbs and laughter. “You, I’ll deal with later,” he says, locking eyes with Akaashi.
Who only gives him a smirk to rile him further, “in your dreams, Kuroo-San.”
#did I mention I love them both sm#kuroo testuro#kuroo tetsuro fluff#kuroo tetsuro x reader#kuroo tetsuro x gn!reader#kuroo tetsuro x reader fluff#kuroo tetsuro imagine#kuroo tetsuro haikyuu#kuroo#kuroo fluff#kuroo x reader#kuroo x reader fluff#kuroo x gn!reader#kuroo imagine#kuroo haikyuu#haikyuu#haikyuu fluff#haikyuu imagine#haikyuu x reader#haikyuu x reader fluff#haikyuu x gn!reader#haikyuu x gender neutral reader#haikyuu x yn#haikyuu x you#haikyuu x y/n
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Video Girl - Seonghwa x Reader (NSFW)
📼 Summary: On the cusp of 1998, your quiet life working at a department store is upended when an attractive new coworker named Seonghwa awakens your desire for sexual exploration.
📼 Word count: 22k
📼 Genre and warnings: smut one shot. coworkers to lovers. fem pronouns for reader. use of a camera during sex. oral sex. unprotected sex. creampie.
📼 fic playlist here.
this fic is not meant to represent seonghwa in any way, shape or form.
Monday, October 6th, 1997
“What happened to the stack of CDs I put right there?”
“Right where?”
“Right there,” You gesture to the empty space that once housed a cluster of CDs that needed to be put on the shelf.
Your coworker, San, pops his head up from where he had been busy sorting through one of the boxes of new inventory. His brows furrow while staring at the spot as if he could magically make the CDs appear.
“What was it?”
“The new Janet Jackson album.”
“The new…oh shit, wait, I might’ve knocked it into this other box,” He ducks back down out of your view and you hear him wildly rummaging around.
With a sigh, you slump against the shelf and stare out at the store which closed half an hour ago. Now, you’re stuck restocking new releases in the CD and VHS section for another hour before your shift ends. At least there are no customers, you think gratefully.
“What’s it called?” San asks, still trying to find what he accidentally misplaced.
“The Velvet Rope, I think,” You reply, wishing your feet didn’t hurt so much.
The stack of CDs really isn’t that important but you just needed an excuse to take a break. It’s been a long day, working a double to cover for someone else, and you were sick of being here about three hours ago. The vest you have to wear while clocked in has long been discarded, tossed onto the counter as soon as the last customer finally got the hell out.
“Wait, I found it,” San says with the same enthusiasm of someone completing a lifelong goal. He circles around the aisle, holding the pile of CDs, “Where should I put them?”
“I’m just stacking them next to Mariah Carey,” You reply while taking them out of his hands and turning back to the shelf, “I don’t care.”
“Fine by me.”
You’ve worked with San for two years now and know him as well as one can know another coworker. He rarely missed a shift, probably because he enjoyed flirting with the women who wandered into the electronics section too much. There were two things San liked to do outside of work: work out and go clubbing with his best friend, Wooyoung. He was good looking to the point that even the ugly work mandated vest couldn’t take away from his jawline sculpted out of marble.
“Thanks for helping me out,” San says.
“It’s cool, dude. I really did not feel like working in my department tonight.”
“You’re sick of organizing all the tube tops? Don’t see any of them you want for yourself?” He jokes, knowing how bored you are of working in the women’s clothing department.
You make a face. “Ugh, as if.”
San leans against the shelf, crossing his arms. “Did you hear about the new guy they hired for the men’s department?”
“No,” You reply, uninterested.
“I heard he’s good looking,” A thought strikes him and in an alarmed tone, he goes, “You don’t think he’s better looking than me, do you?”
You shove the last CD onto the shelf although it teeters close to the edge. You stare at it, willing that it doesn’t fall and when the case stays in place, you finally turn your attention to San. “Why, worried you’re going to no longer be the Resident Hottie?”
“Pfft, no. But…you’ll let me know, won’t you?”
You lean down and pick up one of the boxes of CDs, balancing it on your knee until you get a better hold on it. “Why are you buggin about a new hire?”
“I’m not buggin about him,” San protests quickly.
“Yes, you totally are. I’m sure he’s nothing special. Don’t worry about it,” You turn away from San, getting ready to head down another aisle to finish putting the CDs away, “I can’t even remember the last time we hired someone who impacted me outside of asking and then promptly forgetting their name.”
San looks mollified, taking comfort in the fact that everyone knows he is the hottest guy working in the store. You plop the box down, sorting through it to see what to put away first.
The routine is comforting in that sort of mind numbing manner, the same pace of your life unchanging with no disruptions on the horizon. Tomorrow, you’d wake up and be here again to sort out ugly women’s clothing and clean up the fitting rooms after old ladies leave piles everywhere.
That’s how it always goes, how it will continue to go.
Tuesday, October 7th, 1997
“I don’t want this one,” A customer declares, thrusting a crushed velvet mini dress into your arms, “Or this.” A denim dress is tossed as the customer saunters off back into the aisles of clothing racks.
You stand there, momentarily bunching the fabric in your hands with irritation before collecting your features into a pleasant expression. You go back to organizing the clothing from the fitting room racks to put them away. There are two hours left in your shift and your feet hurt yet again.
“Sorry, I don’t mean to interrupt,” A voice cuts cleanly through the music being piped into the building. It is deep, almost melodious and you look over your shoulder curiously, expecting to see a lost looking man trying to find something to buy for his wife or girlfriend.
There is, in fact, a lost looking man standing there but his blue vest indicates he’s a coworker. The slightly confused expression combined with the outfit leads you to believe this is the man San had been talking about the other night.
“I just started working here yesterday and the person who was supposed to be training me called out so I’m running the men’s department alone. I just had some questions and was hoping you could help me.”
The man is tall and slender with black hair carefully combed. The ugly blue vest does nothing to take away from his uniquely pretty face – beautiful brown eyes with a strong nose, perfectly straight white teeth and full lips. In his hands is a small collection of clothing, long fingers splayed out across to stop it from tumbling onto the floor. His shoes look brand new, the shine making it obvious. A belt loops around his small waist, wearing simple dress slacks.
You’re so used to going through the motions at work, typically zoned out that only something absolutely wild could shatter you from that usual feeling. Seeing someone so pretty against the backdrop of the woman’s department brings you up short.
“Uhhhh,” You go before managing to collect yourself swiftly, replying, “Yeah, I can help you,” Your eyes fall onto his nametag, and you tentatively say his name aloud for the first time, “Seonghwa.”
He smiles, a sort of strange smile in which he looks vastly uncomfortable, saying your own name after reading it from your tag. You trail after him, cutting through the organized racks of the women’s department into the general shitshow of the men’s.
For some reason, it was impossible to keep a full team in the men’s section. They always quit or just stopped showing up. Over the two years you worked here, you normally didn’t speak to anyone in the men’s department too much since they never seemed to last long. That meant the department always looked like a group of wild school children tore through it regularly and today is no exception.
Seonghwa takes you to a large box dumped unceremoniously onto the counter near the men’s fitting rooms. “I was told to process these returns but I don’t…actually know how to do that,” He admits bashfully.
“Oh, it’s not difficult. I can show you.”
He looks relieved, thanking you. As you begin to show Seonghwa the process, you sneak a glance at his face out of the corner of your eye. His eyelashes are long, his lips prettily plump and his skin seemingly perfect. What planet did this dude come from? You wonder, unsure how someone like him stumbled into working at a store like this.
“You know how to fold the clothes the right way?” You ask at one point.
“Yeah, I’ve worked retail before in my last town.”
“Oh, you moved here?”
Seonghwa looks up as you hand him a particularly ugly dress shirt made from a shiny fabric. In the horrendous fluorescent lights which make almost everyone look garish, he seems to be immune.
“Yeah, just a couple weeks ago. Not far away, just a few towns over.” He quickly changes the subject off himself, “Have you worked here long?”
“Around two years.”
“Do you like it?”
“It’s retail,” You reply dryly, “I think it is the same everywhere.”
The corners of his lips turn up for a second. “Yeah, I guess you’re right.”
Seonghwa turns his attention back to the pile of clothes, folding them swiftly. You watch the way his long fingers smooth out the fabric before expertly folding it. Every movement of his seems to be precise and completely under control, a far cry from yourself.
“Are you settling in okay then?” You ask, trying to wiggle more information out of this professional handsome guy who for some reason is working at this shitty store instead of modeling overseas somewhere.
He carefully folds another shirt while replying, “Yeah, I’m doing alright. Have you always lived here?” Another deflection. It’s growing obvious Seonghwa doesn’t want to talk about himself.
“Yeah, I have. It’s really nothing special though. Pretty generic place.” You study his face while asking the next question, “Why did you pick here?”
Without missing a beat, he goes, “It was convenient. What do you like the most about living here?”
You find his answer curious but decide asking Seonghwa questions is pointless because he only swiftly tries to put the conversation back on you.
Stumped by his question, mostly because nothing really comes to mind, you finally settle on, “The weather is alright.”
He tilts his face in your direction at your answer, one eyebrow slightly raised. “That’s it?”
You shrug, “Yeah, I guess.”
His gaze is heavy on you, a beat too long before turning his attention back to folding the clothes. You swallow hard, wondering why you feel so unnerved. As beautiful as Seonghwa is, he has the sort of intense presence that knocks you a little off balance, almost as if he can see some part of yourself that most people cannot.
“Alright, finished.” His voice brings you back to the moment as he picks up the clothing, “Do I just put them back now?”
“Yup, that’s it. Do you want me to help you?”
“No, I got it. I should start learning where everything goes,” He turns to go and then stops, looking over his shoulder, “Thanks for your help. I appreciate it.”
“It’s no biggie. You can pop over again if you have any other questions.”
He smiles again, exposing the most perfect teeth you’ve ever seen. “Alright, thanks. Talk to you later.”
You give him a small wave, turning around to head back to your section, wondering why you feel so thrown off balance over someone you’ve known for ten minutes.
*
“So, how is he?”
“Who?”
“Don’t play coy with me,” San says, leaning closer to you, “The new guy.”
You’re in the break room, poking at the unappealing lunch you brought. The break room is covered in tacky motivational posters, a bulletin board filled with random flyers about things like worker safety, requesting time off and a garage sale ad. A small TV in the corner shows the local news. The image, as usual, is extra grainy due to the bad signal off the cheap antenna. There is no break from the harsh fluorescents even in this room.
“You saw him, didn’t you?” He presses.
You relent and reply with a casual, “Yeah, I saw him.”
“And? What’s he like? Is he hotter than me?”
Another noncommittal shrug. “He’s…different. He’s friendly, don’t get me wrong, but he seems distant. I guess he moved here from a town nearby. That’s all I know about him.” San is staring at you with a serious expression on his face. You shift uncomfortably in the hard chair, finally glaring at him. “What?”
He points at you sternly. “You do think he’s fine.”
“What?” You bluster. “Where the hell did you get that idea?”
San gestures wildly. “It’s written all over your face! We talk about every new hire in detail and now suddenly, you give me a couple of sentences. What spell did he cast on you?”
“No spell,” You say crossly, irritated at somehow being too obvious when believing you played it cool, “You’re caring too much about my opinion.”
He slumps back in his chair, crossing his arms, pouting. With a sigh, you push your meal away and turn to face him.
“Come on, dude. You’re giving a new hire way too much power. Everyone knows you’re all that and a bag of chips. You think the confused old ladies who still don’t understand what a cordless phone is are not gonna be charmed by you? That they’re suddenly going to head to the men’s department instead?”
“They tip me, you know,” San says defensively, “That’s why it’s important to me. They give me a couple of bucks when I finish explaining what a portable CD player is compared to their 8 track.”
You skirt around the fact it is against company police to take cash tips from customers, opting to continue reassuring him instead. “Don’t give someone else so much power. I mean, look at the size of your arms. No one in the store can compare with that.”
“That’s true,” He says begrudgingly, “Fine. And I’ll give the new guy a shot only cuz you think he’s fly.”
“I don’t – will you stop –” You sputter.
San stands up, snatching his work vest off the table and slipping it back on. “Alright, I’m going. Talk to you later.”
You say bye, now alone in the break room. Normally, you relish the quiet moments here without a coworker talking your ear off. But you’re longing for a pointless discussion, some sort of distraction from the fact that you’ve spent ten minutes around Seonghwa and are seemingly attracted to him.
You’ve fallen into such a routine between work, occasionally going out on the weekends, and watching TV that suddenly finding someone hot is like an electric bolt to your chest. Things have been quiet for so long, in both your mind and life, that the last thing you want to deal with is forming an attraction to a coworker.
Luckily, Seonghwa seems intent to keep mostly to himself. The emotional distance should help, you think, should make it easier not to get swept up in some guy.
Wednesday, October 8th, 1997
Once it hits 4pm, all you care about is punching out and getting home. You’re so wrapped up in this that when you turn around to dart out of the back room, you collide immediately into Seonghwa.
It’s like striking a wall. Even though he’s slender, his body is firm, resulting in you ungracefully flailing for a moment. His hands go to your upper arms to steady you, allowing yourself to recover from toppling back against the wall.
“Sorry, I wasn’t paying attention.” You’re embarrassed by being so spaced out.
Seonghwa, who you have successfully avoided all day, doesn’t seem to be impacted by the collision. He’s still in his work vest but today he’s wearing a long sleeve black shirt. His hands rest on your upper arms and your eyes drop to his fingers, taking note of how they look against the fabric of your clothing.
He clears his throat gently, a mild noise of embarrassment, before dropping his hands back to his sides. “No, I should have let you know I was behind you. My shift is done too so I was just punching out.”
You shuffle to the side, letting Seonghwa finish up. Your heart is beating quickly in that annoying way you’ve been trying to avoid since your last relationship. You should just say goodbye now and head out. But your feet refuse to obey and you find yourself lingering to walk out with Seonghwa.
After shaking out of his work vest and tossing it unceremoniously into his locker, he leans against it, watching as you fumble with your own lock.
“How was your day?”
“Uh, it was alright. What about you? You settling in okay with everything?” You successfully open your locker, shoving your own work vest in there and grabbing your bag.
Turning to meet Seonghwa’s gaze, your eyes unintentionally flick down to his torso. His long sleeve shirt fits him a little too well, is a little too snug, and you’re now acutely aware of his small waist on top of the fact he’s definitely in shape.
“Yeah, it’s going well. A bit disorganized but it’s fine.”
The two of you are leaving the backroom together, cutting through the electronics section. San is milling around in front of a display of Tamagotchis which is already half empty. He glances up and notices you, waving.
“Hey,” He goes, “Oh, you’re the new guy, right?”
You’re secretly hoping San doesn’t embarrass you. Even though you denied thinking Seonghwa is attractive yesterday, you know that San doesn’t believe you for a second.
Seonghwa introduces himself and then glances at the display. “These things go fast, don’t they?”
“Tell me about it. I end up having to restock the display every shift,” San replies disgruntled, “I don’t get it. An electronic pet?”
“I had a Tamagotchi,” Seonghwa muses, “It kept beeping while I was sleeping so I shoved it in a drawer and forgot about it.”
“What happened to it?” San asks.
“It died,” He replies seriously, “I felt pretty guilty.”
“I’m sorry to hear that,” San says just as grimly.
You glance between the two men and their bonding moment over a dead Tamagotchi before clasping your hands together. “Okay, well, this has been truly touching but I don’t wanna miss my bus. See you tomorrow, San.”
As you turn to leave, you hear Seonghwa mumble a quick goodbye before catching up with you. “You take the bus to work?”
“Yeah, no car.”
“I can drop you off at your place if you’d like.”
You glance at him in surprise. “You don’t even know if I’m completely out of your way or not. We could live on opposite sides of one another. On top of that, how familiar are you with the town? You got a map in your car or something to help you get home afterwards?”
Seonghwa looks perplexed. “I guess I didn’t think of that.”
The doors glide open as you step out into the late afternoon air. The temperature has dropped since this morning, a chilly bite that cuts through your t-shirt. Seonghwa had the right idea with the long sleeve, you think. Feeling flustered by his invitation to drive you home, you stop walking and turn to face him.
“Sorry, I didn’t mean to come across so harsh. I just wouldn’t want you going out of your way on my account.”
“I get that,” He replies, a wind kicking up and blowing some of his hair into his eyes which he impatiently brushes back, “But I really don’t mind. I need to learn where everything is anyway.”
Chewing on your bottom lip, you fight the urge just to agree. Logically, you should just take the bus home. If you’re trying to steadfastly ignore the fact that Seonghwa is attractive then obviously being in his car will not help things. But on the other hand, being alone with him also sounds too good.
“Alright, fine. But if you get lost, I warned you.”
He smiles and you can feel it in your chest. Following him to his car, which looks as though it has seen better days, you get into the passenger seat and toss your bag on the floor, looking around. A pair of small dice swing off the rearview mirror, the only decoration in the car. There is nothing else to learn about Seonghwa in here – the car is neat, clean and smells nice.
He stretches out his long legs in his seat, starting the car. You are trying very hard not to stare at him, not notice how smooth his skin is nor how his muscles pull against his long sleeve shirt.
You open your mouth to tell him your address when suddenly Wannabe by the Spice Girls begins to blare out of his car speakers. Startled into silence, you can only watch as Seonghwa looks mortified, quickly slamming his hand down onto the eject button which spits the CD out of the player in his car dashboard.
He grabs the CD swiftly while going, “Uh, I didn’t know – I forgot – ‘’
“Seonghwa, it’s fine,” You reassure him, “It would be stranger at this point if you didn’t own that CD.”
He turns his body to grab something off the back seat, plopping the CD holder into his lap. Quickly, he opens it, flips to a random page with a spot available and hastily shoves the disc inside before closing the big binder of albums. Seonghwa seems to collect himself after a second or two, returning the binder to the backseat and quietly clearing his throat while turning on the radio. Sunday Morning by No Doubt quietly fills the car.
“Alright,” He says, neatly skirting around the Spice Girls incident, his hands wrapping around the steering wheel, “Help me get to your place.”
You give him a couple of directions and soon enough Seonghwa is on a main road. You make a mental note to eventually Map Quest some stuff for him later so he can learn the town layout faster.
Wanting to fill the silence before your brain gets swept up in the mental image of sitting in his lap, you go, “Are you excited for Halloween? Hopefully we don’t get stuck working late.”
“Do you usually do something for Halloween?”
Of course he deflects immediately. You should have known better than to ask Seonghwa a question about himself. “Sometimes. Last year I went to a party but it was a total buzzkill. I don’t know what I’m doing this year.”
“Do you like horror movies?”
“They’re okay. Do you?”
“Yeah, I like them.” Wow, finally an answer out of him! Progress.
“Oh, wait, turn right at this light,” You say as Seonghwa shifts into the other lane.
At the red light, he looks out the side window and says, “So far, this is near my own place. Maybe we don’t live too far away from each other.”
“Maybe.” Did you dare ask another question? “Do you live alone?”
Seonghwa hesitates for a moment and then replies, “Yeah, I do. What about you?”
You spare an extra second to study his face. Every interaction with Seonghwa, while friendly enough, gives you the feeling that he is constantly holding back in some respect. Aspects of himself are carefully hidden, making you wonder what he is like behind the perfectly pleasant façade he shows at work.
“Yeah. Do you like living alone?”
“It’s a little different than what I am used to,” Seonghwa says carefully, glancing at you for a moment.
You point to a road ahead. “You can turn down here.” After he does so, you ask, “What are you used to?”
Seonghwa’s hands tighten around the wheel. You get the sense he is struggling to answer, torn between talking about himself and staying private.
“Listen, Seonghwa,” You begin, “I get the sense you really don’t like talking about yourself. That’s fine. I don’t want to come off all ‘hey, tell me your life story’ and shit. I know we just met.”
There is another red light and the car stops. Seonghwa tilts his face to look at you. You’re struck again by how handsome you find him and how his intense gaze startles you into silence.
“It has nothing to do with you. I don’t mean to seem so closed off.” He turns his attention back to the road, drumming his fingers against the steering wheel before saying, “I moved here because my girlfriend and I broke up recently. I’m not used to living alone because I lived with her.”
“Oh,” You mumble as the light turns green, feeling awkward, “I didn’t mean to – I mean…”
“It’s okay,” He reassures you, his attention back on the road, “I’m a private person but I don’t want to come off rude.”
Quietly, you point out the next turn. It doesn’t take long to stop at the small apartment complex you’ve lived in the past year. Grabbing your bag, anxious to get out of the car after fumbling straight into making Seonghwa feel as if he needed to explain himself, you stop just in time to remember he might not know how to get to his own place.
“I can figure it out,” He claims while you rummage in your bag for a stray sheet of paper and pen.
“No, no, you were nice enough to drop me off. What’s your address?” After he says it, you scribble down rough directions that he can follow and thrust the paper in his direction. “Here, this should help.”
When he takes the paper from you, his fingers brush against yours. Your breath catches at the small touch.
“Listen, I meant what I said,” Seonghwa says, “You don’t need to feel bad.”
“Yeah but I didn’t want you to talk about anything negative like a breakup. That is way uncool of me. It isn’t any of my business why you moved here or who you live with.”
“True but I also don’t wanna come off like a jerk.”
“You weren’t, I just…” You’re struggling to find a safe sentence to land on. How did you not say that you wanted to learn more about him because you were immediately attracted and therefore curious? “Wanted to be friendly. Since we work together.”
“We’re chilling, don’t worry about it. Let me walk you to your door, at least.”
“You don’t need to do that,” You protest even though your heart skips a beat.
“I don’t mind.”
You know that you’re probably supposed to refuse again until Seonghwa relents and even though you still have anxiety from the misstep of having him open up about his past, your desire to be around him for longer wins out. You nod in acceptance, getting out of the car and rubbing your arms in the cold air, reminding yourself to bring a hoodie tomorrow.
Seonghwa circles around the car, waiting for you to shuffle over. The apartment complex isn’t anything special, just two floors and a run down looking pool in the middle that is currently closed for fall and winter. You lead him up to the second floor, stopping in front of your apartment. Seonghwa is peering over the railing to look at the pool. Some of his black hair falls in front of his eyes. His hands are shoved in the pockets of his pants to keep them warm. Your eyes drop to his slender waist and you swallow hard. Everything about this man seems to have been specially created to drive you up the wall.
“You ever use the pool?”
“Not really. Why, do you like swimming?”
“I do. My apartment complex doesn’t have a pool though.”
Without thinking, you offer, “Well, when the pool reopens, you can come here.”
He looks over at you, something flickering across his eyes quickly. Straightening up, he nods, giving you a small smile. “Alright, that sounds sweet.”
Shifting the weight of your bag onto your other shoulder, you go, “Well…thanks again for the ride. Try not to get lost on the way home. Do you work tomorrow?”
“I do.”
“I’ll see you tomorrow then.”
Seonghwa lingers for a moment. Once again, you get the feeling he is restraining from doing or saying something that might expose too much of himself. It is a curious thing, you think, especially given that you just assumed the whole ex-girlfriend thing is why he was being so reserved. Maybe that’s just him as a person though. Just really private and constantly filtering his behavior through a thousand nets.
“Alright, talk to you later.”
“See you later, alligator,” You reply and immediately chastised yourself for ending on such a corny line.
Seonghwa turns around, walking back towards the staircase. You trace the curve of his shoulders underneath his shirt, getting a brief mental image of your hands flat against the top of them while you’re under his body. Shaking your head to fend off the fantasy, you turn away.
He’s probably incredibly boring in bed. He’s an attractive guy but he’s so mild mannered and pleasant in an easily digestible way. Why get distracted into some annoying crush when the end result won’t be worth it?
Thursday, October 9th, 1997
“Wassup?” San plops down in the chair next to yours while gesturing at the TV. “You watch this?”
Once again, it is mid-afternoon in the break room. You’re eating lunch, staring at the grainy image on the TV that is showing a Buffy the Vampire Slayer ad for the new episode on Monday night.
“No, do you?”
“Nah but Yeosang records it every week to watch.”
Yeosang is San’s roommate. That information doesn’t really surprise you seeing as he also watches The X-Files religiously.
“Well, I bet he will enjoy this episode,” You squint, looking at the ad closer, “About a gigantic reptile thing in a frat house.”
It is at that moment that Seonghwa steps into the break room. He is wearing a short sleeve black shirt today along with the ugly blue vest and a pair of black jeans. San waves when he enters.
“Hey, dude. Are you on break?”
“Yeah, I am.”
San kicks out the chair on the other side of you, motioning to it. “Wanna chill with us?” When Seonghwa isn’t looking, he winks at you. You fight the urge to punch his shoulder.
Seonghwa nods, stopping to get something out of the fridge before settling in next to you. He catches your eye and gives you a small smile. Your cheeks feel warm so you turn your attention back to your sandwich but you can still feel his gaze.
“Damn, I wanna see this,” San interrupts whatever the hell was passing in between Seonghwa and yourself.
“I think the title is kinda goofy though,” Seonghwa remarks.
“You don’t like I Know What You Did Last Summer? I think it sounds a little mysterious. You know, it’s by the same writer as Scream,” San nudges you, “What do you think?”
“I think I haven’t seen Scream so that sentence means nothing to me.”
“Whoa, what, you haven’t seen Scream?” Seonghwa’s attention is back on you, “The sequel comes out soon. You should watch it. It’s really good.”
Slightly desperate for something new to discuss with Seonghwa that didn’t involve asking questions leading to awkward moments, you leap at this opportunity. “Alright. I guess I can see if Blockbuster has it.”
San scoffs. “Are you serious? I’ve been asking you to watch Scream for months – ow!” He winces as your foot collides with his shin under the table.
Seonghwa frowns. “Are you alright?”
“Yes,” San wheezes, “I always forget about the metal bar under the table. Just whacked my leg against it.”
“He’s fine,” You say quickly, shooting daggers at him.
Seonghwa tilts his body in your direction and goes, “I own Scream. I can bring the VHS tape tomorrow if you’re also working.”
“I don’t have a day off until Sunday so I’ll be here. But are you sure? I don’t want you to lend me anything…”
“Yeah, it’s okay. Don’t go to Blockbuster. I always do and then forget and end up owing them an annoying amount of late fees.”
San has quickly forgotten the shin kicking incident and nods in agreement. “He’s right. Avoid it if you can.”
“I’ll bring it tomorrow.”
“Okay, well, thanks.”
“Hey, when you’re done watching it, can I borrow it? Yeosang still hasn’t seen it either,” San goes, “He’s so bad at watching movies.”
“Yeah, that’s no problem,” Seonghwa replies, “I’m still unpacking but I know where it is.”
“Great, thanks dude,” San exclaims before turning his attention back to the TV.
San says something else but you don’t really hear him because Seonghwa is still looking at you. Even though Seonghwa is friendly yet distant, your body seems to react to him in a way that takes you by surprise every time you’re close. It’s the warmth of his body so near combined with his toned arms and perfect skin. The effect is slightly dizzying. Toss in the fact you haven’t had a crush on someone since your last relationship ended three years ago, you are struggling between thinking his personality doesn’t match up with yours and wanting to throw yourself at him. The entire thing is confusing.
Seonghwa’s lips are slightly parted as if he was going to say more but falls silent while staring at you. There is something brewing in his eyes, something you haven’t seen before. It’s intense and your stomach swoops as if leaping off a cliff. His hand presses down hard against his knee to steady himself. He suddenly looks away towards the window, cutting the moment short.
You’re breathless, wondering what the hell that had been about. The way Seonghwa looked at you mingling with the feeling that he was reigning himself in, closing something off – you don’t know what to make of it. Could it be he also is attracted to you and is trying to hide it? In all your interactions with him, he’s been kind and considerate but nothing indicated he saw you in a physical way.
You force yourself into focusing on whatever San is saying, trying to push all the swirling emotions out of your mind.
Friday, October 10th, 1997
You sigh, plopping down on your bed, stretching out. Work today was a chore but Seonghwa had given you his copy of Scream. With San bothering you to watch it quickly so he could let Yeosang borrow it, you figured you’d just watch it tonight before going to sleep.
Leaning over the side of your bed, you rummage through your bag until your fingers feel the edge of the VHS tape. Pulling it out, you gaze at the cover for a few seconds, lost in thought. You’re thinking about how Seonghwa looked today right before his shift ended. You were on your break and he was at the lockers, tugging a hoodie over his head. His white shirt lifted up so slightly that if you hadn’t been already staring at him, you wouldn’t have noticed the quick glimpse of a few inches of hard abdomen. That was enough to send your body into overdrive, something you still hadn’t calmed down from when he came over to hand you the Scream VHS.
“Thanks,” You mumbled quickly, hoping that he didn’t have the ability to read your mind.
“Not a problem. You can just give it to San as soon as you’re done with it. I’m not in any hurry to get it back.”
He gave you that same easy going smile, the type of smile that made you wonder what he would be like if his kind demeanor cracked and he had you pushed against a wall with his lips against your neck.
“Right, yeah, cool.” You said in what you hoped was a casual tone.
When he turned around to leave, your eyes lingered on his waist before turning your attention back to your food, the VHS tape in your lap like a heavy weight.
Dragging yourself back to the present moment, you pull the tape out of the sleeve, finding it a bit curious there isn’t a sticker with the movie name on it. You wiggle to the edge of your bed, shoving the tape into the player. There are a few seconds of VHS tracking and then the picture pops into view.
You’re staring at a palm tree against a blue sky, slightly out of focus. The tape goes grainy for a moment and then the camera swoops downward. Someone’s face comes into view, filling up the lens before their hand pushes the camera away while they are laughing.
Uh, okay, this is not what I thought the movie was gonna look like, you think while squinting at the TV.
“Can you get the camera out of my face?” comes a familiar voice.
“Stop, you love when the camera is on,” A woman replies coyly.
The shot snaps into focus then, showing Seonghwa against a wall. He is wearing a sleeveless white and blue striped shirt, his black hair ruffling in the wind. The sight of him is like a punch to your chest, knocking the air out of your lungs. His smile is bright, completely different from the ones you’ve seen at work. It is unguarded. Even his posture is relaxed with none of the slightly stiff professional nature he has at work.
Entranced, you can only stare as the scene continues. Seonghwa runs his long fingers through his hair, his smile turning into a grin.
“So do you,” He counters.
You can hear the sound of ocean waves just off screen. He turns his face to the side, the camera lingering on this for a moment before it lowers for a second, showing a wooden pathway. It cuts suddenly, immediately shifting into another scene.
Seonghwa is standing on the beach now, slipping his shirt off and tossing it onto the blanket that is on the sand. You didn’t think it was possible to see him look so comfortable in his own skin. He doesn’t seem to be shy at all, staring at the camera with a challenging look on his face. On top of that, the sight of Seonghwa shirtless is bowling you over. He is toned, tanned and has muscles you want to press your hands against.
“What?” He goes.
“Nothing,” The woman says, “I can’t film you getting into the water?”
“You’re just filming me undressing.”
“Well, it’s not the first time, is it?”
He rolls his eyes but there is a good natured expression on his face. He shoves his thumbs into his swim trunks, tugging them down half an inch before exploding into laughter and turning around, jogging towards the water.
Another cut. New scene. This has to be him and his ex. I need to turn this off. It’s obviously not meant for me.
Seonghwa is sitting at a table in a diner, looking over a menu. He raises his eyes, making eye contact with the camera then he laughs again. He looks relaxed, his smile bright and posture resting comfortably against the booth.
“You look wicked good tonight,” The woman remarks and Seonghwa playfully shakes the menu in her direction.
“Good thing you’re getting it on camera, right?”
“Exactly.” She zooms in a little more. “Do you want to tell the imaginary audience what we’ll be filming later?”
“Oh, well, I think the imaginary audience knows by now what we like to film,” He says with a mock seriousness that makes your heart constrict. “Isn’t that right?”
The woman giggles and the scene cuts suddenly. This time the camera is in a bedroom with the lens focusing on Seonghwa once again. He is shirtless, close to the camera.
“You gonna keep it on while I fuck you?” He says in a low voice.
The woman doesn’t reply, just giggles.
Seonghwa’s eyes drop for a moment before locking back onto the camera. You’ve never seen such an expression on his face – a combination of lust and reveling in the fact the entire thing is being filmed. It is as if the exterior you’ve seen on him since he began to work at the store is all bullshit, a lie in which he hides behind, and you’re seeing him for real now through the lens.
“Maybe I’ll film you when my cock is down your throat,” He continues, “You want that?”
The woman titters again before going, “Yeah, I want that.”
Seonghwa grins, moving back a little so that his entire body is in view. The low light makes it difficult to fully make him out but you can see the curve of his shoulders, the stiffness against the fabric of his boxers, and the way he motions for her to come closer.
“Then give me the camera and get on your knees,” He says sternly while lowering one hand towards his boxers, starting to pull them down –
The sight of Seonghwa about to expose himself finally snaps you out of your shock. Quickly, you lean over and smash the eject button on the tape, yanking it out of the machine and dropping it to the floor as if it is going to burn you.
You stare at it, breathless, your mind spinning. It didn’t take a genius to figure out where that tape was going to lead. After all, people still talked about the tape of Pamela Anderson and Tommy Lee; it had been covered in media for months and was still often a topic of conversation.
You are aware Seonghwa just moved and the tape must be misplaced. Do you tell him? Do you just pretend you watched Scream and not mention it? But San wanted to borrow the copy as well. Obviously, he couldn’t get his hands on it. You could lie and say the tape didn’t play. But the excuse wouldn’t work because Seonghwa would try it on his own player and realize what was really on it. You could pretend you lost the tape and destroy it. But that also didn’t seem right. It wasn’t your tape, after all, and eventually Seonghwa could put the pieces together and believe you kept the tape to watch or worse. It felt as if the only choice would be to come clean to Seonghwa and let him know he accidentally gave you the wrong tape.
On the other side of things, you couldn’t believe how different Seonghwa was on camera. There was such a relaxed, casual demeanor to him. He seemed more at ease in front of the lens than in reality. For the first time since meeting him, it felt that you truly saw him. The quiet confidence, no hint of shyness in the way he spoke or removed his clothes. On top of that, his body was absolutely banging in a way that made your thighs clench and hands bunch up in your blanket.
Then give me the camera and get on your knees.
You think about that moment in the break room when Seonghwa’s eyes were heavy on yours and his hand gripped his knee. The little bit of his true personality coming through before being shoved back down, perhaps? Just an hour ago, you thought everything about Seonghwa had been figured out. Not anymore.
Your mind flashes back to his smile and the expression on his face while the camera filmed. Unguarded. Exposed. Hiding behind nothing and leaving everything, including sex, on a VHS tape.
What would such a thing be like? A small voice in your head wonders.
Saturday, October 11th, 1997
“Hey, good morning.”
You jump out of your skin, slamming your locker door shut and turning to see Seonghwa standing there.
“Hi, Seonghwa! How’s it hanging?!” You exclaim loudly with such false cheer that you inwardly wince.
Seonghwa outwardly winces. “You’re at an excitement level I can’t quite reach given we are at work.”
Then give me the camera and get on your knees.
You make a garbled noise in response, eyes darting all over the place. You can’t stare at Seonghwa’s face because then you think of his unguarded smile. You can’t stare at his chest because then the mental image of his abs pops into view. You can’t even look at his small waist, something that had been giving you great pleasure to sneak glances at during the week, because you’re picturing the way he was tugging down his boxers.
“Are you…uh…feeling alright?”
“Yeah, just didn’t sleep well,” You say quickly, “Tired.”
His eyes move to your locker and he gestures to it. “Oh, did you watch Scream?”
Your head turns sharply. The VHS tape is poking out of the top of your bag. You stammer out a collection of gibberish, stalling for time. You didn’t want to have this conversation right now; you had been picturing it after work, maybe in his car or something. Not in the break room before it hits ten in the morning.
Seonghwa looks perplexed once again. You don’t blame him.
Finally, you settle on, “I would really like to discuss the tape with you.”
His features brighten. “Yeah, sure.”
“After work?”
Confusion once again but he slowly replies, “Alright.”
You scurry past him, shouting your goodbye while exiting the room and hurrying to the women’s department. Seonghwa’s smile from the tape is still blazing across your brain in vivid colour and no matter how much you try not to think about it, you can still see the lascivious look in his eyes as he began to remove his boxers.
You’ll tell him after work, you think desperately, even though it will be mortifying and he most likely will never speak to you again.
As long as you get through this shift without losing your cool, everything should be fine. Just don’t think about him on the tape. Don’t think about him having sex and recording it. Don’t think about how relaxed he looked. Don’t think about how sexy his body looked.
Should be simple.
*
You manage to avoid Seonghwa the entire day, including an awkward moment where you wedged yourself into a clothing rack as he walked by. You were worried about blurting out what was on the tape in the middle of his work shift or even worse – admitting that you were curious about how he filmed himself doing such things and how it felt to let go with a camera on. In quiet moments when a customer wasn’t bothering you, your mind travels back to him like an overplayed record.
You have a difficult time wrapping your head around the Seonghwa on the tape and the Seonghwa in reality. Always polite, yet distant, always kind but professional, in the few days you’ve known him, you’ve bounced between wanting him physically and believing his personality would keep a deeper connection from potentially forming.
But on the tape, you viewed Seonghwa as to how he truly is. There is no façade when the camera is on him. You see him unfiltered. The hint of mischief in his smile, that sense of freedom when he was jogging towards the waves, his quiet confidence when he was talking dirty – why were such things hidden in his day to day life?
By the time the end of your shift comes, you are anxious to get the tape and tell Seonghwa you need to talk. Since you were finishing shifts at the same time, you figured you’d wait for him in the break room. It is a little past seven by the time you enter. The break room has a couple of employees milling around but not San, who snuck out an hour earlier in order to hit up the club with Wooyoung.
Standing in front of your locker, you reach for the lock but as your fingers graze the cold metal, you realize with a jolt it is unlocked. With a small sigh, you realize San must have opened it earlier. You had a bottle of ibuprofen in your locker that he would use occasionally and eventually gave him your locker combination so he would stop bothering you.
But as you reach for your bag, your eyes narrow. Heart thudding, you rummage around in it with growing panic. The VHS tape isn’t in the bag. The tape isn’t in the bag.
“What the fuck?” You hiss in between your teeth, your heart plummeting.
You are about to upend the bag onto the floor when Seonghwa’s voice cuts through. “Hey, finishing up too?”
Surprised, you jump, flattening your back against the locker, clutching the bag against your chest. “Seonghwa! Hey! Hi!”
“Lots of enthusiasm for work today,” He notes, removing his work vest. His slender fingers twist the dial on his locker. You stare at them, momentarily transfixed. He glances at you. “What?”
“Nothing. No, that’s a lie. Seonghwa, I seem to have misplaced the tape.”
“Oh, Scream? Nah, San came to me earlier and said he noticed it was in your locker. I told him you watched it and he grabbed it before he left to give to his roommate. He said he was cutting out early to head to the club or something. Yeosang…that’s his roommate, right? San mentioned that Yeosang was gonna watch it with him and everyone else later tonight.”
Every word out of his mouth, every word tumbling out of his beautifully plush lips, makes you want to sink into the planet’s core. The panic that had been wiggling in your brain while looking for the tape is now washing over your body like a cold wave.
You picture Yeosang, whom you have only met briefly before, hitting play on the video. A room filled with his friends plus San and Wooyoung. The video starting, them seeing Seonghwa. How long would they let the tape run? Probably to where you ejected it. Enough for them to know what is on that tape, enough for them to know what Seonghwa does for fun.
You drop your bag to the floor in shock, reaching out for Seonghwa. Your hand grips the front of his sweater. His eyes widen in surprise.
“Seonghwa,” You say in a choked voice.
He looks a bit flustered, eyes darting over your shoulder to see if anyone else is seeing this. “H-hey, I…” He swallows hard. “I…”
“Seonghwa, that movie isn’t on the tape.”
His nerves, possibly because he thought you were literally throwing yourself at him during work, are now washed away in confusion. “What do you mean?”
“Scream is not on that tape. It’s…something else,” You steel yourself, plunging forward, “It’s a home video. Of you and your ex.”
The colour immediately drains from Seonghwa’s face. Your grip loosens on his shirt, watching as he goes through a myriad of facial expressions before settling on something that looks blandly neutral. You’re amazed at how quickly he collects himself.
“I didn’t watch it,” You say hurriedly, talking a mile a minute, “Well, I watched like 3 or 4 minutes but then it was starting to get a little….anyway, I shut it off then. I was going to tell you. I brought it back today so I could tell you after work. I just didn’t think San was going…okay, it’s fine. It’s fine. We’ll page him. He’ll know to call here, right? I’ll just page him.”
Seonghwa takes a slow deep breath. You can’t tell if he wants to scream, cry, or punch something. His calm demeanor does nothing to relax your own nerves. You don’t know what he is thinking. You go back to digging through your bag, pulling out the tiny phone number and address book you keep in there. Quickly, you head to the break room phone, yanking it off the receiver while flipping through the book to find San’s beeper number. You page him, hurriedly inputting the phone number of the store before hanging up.
“Okay, we’ll just wait here for a few minutes. He’ll call back.”
You aren’t sure if Seonghwa heard you. Looking over your shoulder, you see him standing in the same exact spot, his back to you.
“Uh…Seonghwa?” You say tentatively. “Are you freaking out?”
He turns around then, his features still amazingly collected in an extremely calm appearance. “Do you know where San lives?”
“Where he lives? Yeah, I do. Oh, you want to go there?” You glance at the clock. “Yeah, I mean, it might be too early for him to be at the club. But shouldn’t we wait in case he calls?”
“No,” He says curtly, “You’ll come with me and show me where his place is.”
“Oh – oh, okay. Yeah, sure. Let’s go.”
You can hardly keep up with Seonghwa’s long strides, scampering behind him as you exit the store and into the chilly weather. Tightening the hoodie you’ve managed to shove yourself into while following him, you get in his car silently. Even though Seonghwa is amazingly calm, you can tell he is on edge. The veneer he portrays to the world is on thin ice and you can almost feel the roiling tension under his skin. He starts the car and the radio plays softly.
Pulling out of the parking spot, Seonghwa gets to the exit and grunts, “Tell me how to get to his place.”
“Okay,” You say, adding on, “You’ll take a left at the light,” You hesitate before going, “Seonghwa, I’m sorry. I didn’t mean for this to happen.’’
His hands tighten on the wheel, the only indication of his stress. “It isn’t your fault. I should have checked the tape before I gave it to you. Due to my move and breakup, things are all over the place. I don’t even know how it ended up in the Scream case.”
“Even so, I should have turned it off immediately. I just…” What do you even say? I was entranced by how different you were on camera. I’m deeply attracted to you and I want to get to know the version of you that was on the tape. I’m curious about what you do for fun. Maybe a little too intrigued for my own good.
“It’s fine,” Seonghwa interrupts you swiftly, “I really don’t want to discuss the tape while this is on.” He gestures to the radio which is currently playing Supermodel (You Better Work). “Just a little too ridiculous for me right now.”
You fall silent, the words tumbling around in your chest. “A right up here,” You mumble after a couple of minutes.
You know it is a morally grey area to keep thinking about Seonghwa in the bedroom, talking openly about getting his dick sucked and filming it. You know it’s wrong to wonder what the rest of the tape looked like. Your curiosity feels like a mark against your moral code.
Fifteen minutes later, you have pulled up to the apartment complex that San resides in. Getting out of the car, you study the building, trying to remember what number his apartment is.
“The door,” Seonghwa points, “You don’t happen to have a key to get into the foyer, do you?”
“No. I guess we can buzz and see if anyone answers. But I…I can’t remember his apartment number.”
He looks at you swiftly. “Please try to remember.” You can tell it is taking him great effort to keep his voice even and not start shaking you.
But you’ve only been here a couple of times so nothing appears in your head. Seonghwa takes off towards the door, giving you no choice but to follow. He stands in front of the door, looking around to see the chances of someone coming by so he could slink in after them.
“You remember it yet?”
“No, sorry.”
He turns to the set of apartment numbers written out across the buzzers and randomly hits one. No answer. He presses another one.
“Is this your plan?” You ask.
“Yes,” He replies calmly.
“What are you going to do if someone answers?”
“Lie.”
You aren’t sure what to say. This is yet another new side of Seonghwa, one driven by the desperation of someone seeing the tape and finding out what he’s really like.
On the fourth buzz, someone gruffly goes, “Who is it?” The speaker crackles.
“Hi, I live a few places down from you and forgot my key,” Seonghwa says smoothly, “I’m so sorry to bother you. I just wanted to get buzzed in real quick.”
“Yeah, whatever.” The door clicks open and the speaker goes silent.
Seonghwa grabs the door handle, shooting you a look as he holds it open. You slip past him into the entrance of the building. Once you stand in the foyer, staring at the row of small mailboxes, the apartment number bounces back into your brain.
“It’s #1117!” You declare, happy at your brain’s ability to recall such a fact.
“Great, let’s go,” Seonghwa says while walking towards the elevator, pressing the button.
The foyer is silent as the two of you wait for the elevator to come down. You bounce on the balls of your feet a little, your nerves getting the best of you. You’re worried about Seonghwa, you’re worried about someone seeing that tape and his secret getting out and you’re still dealing with the fact your mind won’t drop mental images that it shouldn’t be thinking about.
In the elevator, Seonghwa exhales slowly. It is the only sign of tension brewing in him. You marvel at how calm and collected he is. If you were in this situation, there would be no chance of being in control. You’re barely in control of your emotions now, dealing with something that technically would have no impact on your life.
The doors glide open and Seonghwa marches down the quiet hallway. His steps are muffled against the carpet, coming to a stop in front of San and Yeosang’s apartment. He rings the doorbell but there is no reply. He tries again. Nothing.
“Maybe they really have gone to the club already,” You suggest.
In response, Seonghwa bangs his fist against the door before resting his hand against the wood, closing his eyes. You can feel the energy crackling off him, just like that moment in the break room the other day - that same sensation of him wrangling himself under control, shoving his real self into a small box and tying it up with a bow.
“Do you know what club they go to?”
“Yeah. It’s nearby.”
“Let’s go.” He turns around to return to the elevator.
“Wait,” You hurry after Seonghwa, “We’re just going to go to the club and what?”
“Ask where the tape is. If it’s in the apartment, I’m going to ask for San to get it for me. If he still has it on him, I’ll just ask for it back.”
“How are you going to explain why you need it so badly without…you know.”
The elevator arrives and he steps inside. “I don’t know. I’ll figure it out when we get there.”
You stand next to him, feeling the warmth off his body. He’s wearing a form fitting white sweater today due to the temperature and you cannot help but notice how it lays across his chest. His black jeans are also snug against his slender waist. It is difficult to look at him and not picture the images of him on the beach and in the bedroom. Cheeks getting warm, you stare steadfastly ahead at the elevator doors, which finally open to release you from the ever growing tension.
Back outside, Seonghwa is hurriedly walking back to the car. The sun has fully dipped below the horizon now, the last strands of dying daylight long gone. You cross your arms, the cold seeping into the fabric of your hoodie.
“Seonghwa,” You say tentatively as he reaches the car, “Do you wanna talk about it now? Since Rupaul isn’t playing, I mean.”
“I really don’t.”
“I don’t want to make things awkward between us.”
His hand, hovering over the handle of the car door, drops back to his side. His eyes are on you, focused in a way they haven’t been since the news of the tape landing in San’s hands were uttered to him. You suddenly feel exposed.
Seonghwa crosses the small gap in a couple of seconds, looking at you intensely. “What do you want to talk about exactly? You want to discuss something, surely, and I don’t think that it is about your apology.”
“I don’t know what you mean,” You mumble quickly, balking at the way his eyes tear through your defenses.
“You want to know more about the tape? You want to know what I do in my spare time?”
“N-no!” You lie, “No, I just didn’t want this to mess up anything between us.”
Seonghwa shakes his head, pulling away from you and exhaling slowly before he loses his cool. “There isn’t time to sit and chat about everything. Can you please just get in the car and tell me where this club San goes to is?”
You nod silently and Seonghwa turns around, getting into the car. Rooted to the spot for a moment, your heart thrumming in your chest, you try to ignore that little voice in your head – a voice entirely new, one that you don’t know what to do with.
What if you stopped getting yourself back in control, Seonghwa? What would that look like? I want to see what it looks like. I want to see what the real you is and I want to keep pressing against that exterior until it cracks.
You’ve never dealt with such a desire before. It is as if a giant dog is tugging you along on a leash and you can’t pull it back. You can dig your heels against the pavement, yank on the leash and beg for the dog to stop but it doesn’t work. The little voice in your head, the centre of your curiosity about Seonghwa mixed with your attraction to him, is a dangerous thing.
Perhaps it isn’t just Seonghwa who is always struggling to remain cool, calm and collected in every situation. Maybe you’re not so different from him.
*
Twenty minutes later, Seonghwa is parking at the club San frequents. The place is crowded with a line snaking around the outside of the building. Seonghwa stares at the line quietly after turning off the car. You know what he is thinking – time is important and he isn’t going to waste it waiting in a long line with the risk of the bouncer saying no. His fingers are curled lightly around the steering wheel, his brows furrowed together in concentration.
“What’s the plan? You gonna gank someone’s VIP pass?” You joke lightly.
He shifts, pulling his wallet out of his pocket and opening it. His fingers glide across the bills inside as he counts them quickly before looking in your direction. “How much cash do you have on you?”
“What?”
“I’ll pay you back,” Seonghwa says impatiently, “We’re just going to bribe the bouncer and skip the line.”
“Is – is that allowed?”
“No.”
“Oh. Uhm,” You fish your wallet out of your bag. “I have a hundred bucks.”
“Great, and I have two hundred,” He holds out his hand, wiggling his fingers at you.
“Wait, we’re going to give the bouncer three hundred dollars?” You ask incredulously.
“No, we’re going to start with a hundred and go from there,” Seonghwa explains, “They might be content with that. Your money is last resort.” When you hesitate, he sighs. “I told you, I’m good for it. I’ll pay you back immediately. I’ll pay you back tonight. As soon as I get the tape. Don’t start wiggin out on me now.”
“I am not wiggin out,” You say defensively, “I just have never bribed someone before.”
“Technically, I’m bribing. You’re merely watching.”
As soon as the words leave his mouth, an awkward silence settles across the car. Seonghwa neatly averts his gaze, pretending to be fascinated with the money in his wallet. You swallow hard, unable to stop yourself from thinking about the tape.
You thrust the money at him which he takes with a mumbled thanks before getting out of the car. You look down at your hoodie and work pants, unable to recall if this place has a dress code or not. Probably, given the long line. You sigh, opening the car door and trailing after Seonghwa.
He stops at one point, looking over his shoulder at you. “Are you comfortable pretending we’re on a date?”
“Excuse me?”
“I’m going to bribe the bouncer under the guise that I’m trying to impress you. Can I put my arm around you when we get up there? I won’t do anything else.”
“How do you come up with this shit?” You say without thinking, “The entire night, you just seamlessly come up with these ideas and lies and stories.” Every interaction we’ve had before tonight has been pleasant and normal to the point where I thought you were attractive but a little boring, is what you don’t add on to the sentence, and now I’m seeing all sorts of sides to you I never thought lurked inside.
Seonghwa ignores the question, instead asking one of his own. “Are you comfortable with me putting my arm around your waist?”
“Yeah, fine,” You mumble although the idea of him touching your body is making your skin warm.
“Alright. Try not to look so nervous.”
Seonghwa walks towards the club with a confidence you cannot hope to possibly mimic. Gone is the easy going attitude he carries at work. Instead, he acts as though he owns the place and is merely popping by to give it a look. His arm circles around your waist as the bouncer comes into view. You can hear people complaining about him cutting the line but Seonghwa doesn’t pay them any attention.
His arm around your waist is distracting in an agonizing way. Every nerve in your body has awakened to him and the desire is dizzying. As you approach the bouncer, Seonghwa nods his head in the man’s direction, extending his hand outward and slipping the hundred dollars in his palm.
“How’s it hangin?” Seonghwa asks casually, pulling you closer against him.
The bouncer glances quickly down at the money and replies evenly, “Could be better.”
Another hundred dollars is given and the bouncer pretends to study his clipboard and nods, moving to the side. “You’re on the list. Have a good night.”
Seonghwa nods, guiding you past him and into the club. On the way in, he brings his lips close to your ear and murmurs, “See? Didn’t even need your cash.”
You’re feeling slightly in awe of the Seonghwa on display tonight – gone is the fake work personality, just someone tackling the situation at hand in whatever way would work best even if it included lying. His arm is still around your waist, his body angled at a slight slant as he leads you through the crowd of people and onto the main dance floor.
The music is loud, cramming your skull immediately as a crush of people squeeze against Seonghwa and yourself. The flickering lights dance over Seonghwa’s hair as his grip tightens on your waist so the two of you don’t get separated. He pulls you along until he finds an alcove, releasing his hold and facing you.
“Do you know where they’d be?” He shouts.
“The dance floor! San always talks about dancing a lot when he’s here!” You yell back.
Seonghwa scowls. “I fucking hate clubs!”
Your hand reaches for his, pulling him out of the alcove and towards the main dance floor while This Is Your Night blasts so loudly that you can feel it vibrate along your bones. Wiggling through the vast swarm of people, you successfully make your way to the main dance floor. It is impossible to find San in the crush of people. Seonghwa tugs on your hand, getting your attention while pointing to a large staircase leading to the second floor.
You nod and he takes the lead, quickly lost in a sea of gauzy club clothes in colours that could cause someone’s retinas to bleed, seeing more cleavage and mini dresses than you thought possible in one space. Your hoodie and work pants and lack of high heels have you receiving a few confused glances as Seonghwa works his way through the crowd.
Of course, you also notice that Seonghwa is attracting a lot of attention in his own way. No one seems to care that his outfit isn’t club attire in the same way they cared about yours. While making your way up the stairs, you can hear giggles follow as people check Seonghwa out. This sparks an intense irritation in your chest for reasons you can’t fully explain.
Standing on one of the stairs, you gaze out across the dance floor, squinting to try to spot San or Wooyoung. Someone bangs into your side, cursing at you standing there. Seonghwa turns around sharply, glowering at the woman with such an intensity that she scampers up the rest of the stairs, wobbling on her strappy sandals with huge heels. His hand is on your lower back protectively.
“We are standing right on the stairs,” You shout at him.
“I don’t care,” He says crossly, “They can move around us. The staircase is huge.”
Seonghwa’s gaze is steady on yours and for a few seconds, time seems to stretch out. The music becomes background noise, his hand against your back, his body facing yours. He has one strand of hair that has come out of place, betraying his inner turmoil that he has been attempting to hide all night.
You bring your hand upwards, pushing his hair back into place before you can stop yourself. He reaches for you, fingers gently wrapping around your wrist. Your breath catches, thrown off by his touch and the intensity of his stare. For a brief second, you think it is finally going to happen – the fissures that have formed in Seonghwa’s carefully constructed polite personality are going to shatter –
But then, over his shoulder, you spot San weaving his way away from the bar, holding two drinks over his head, heading towards a small table where Wooyoung is.
“I found them!” You exclaim and the moment passes as Seonghwa looks over his shoulder, eyes narrowing as he spots San.
He swiftly turns around to head back down the stairs, holding onto your hand again. His impatience is exposed through the way he practically shoves his way through the crowd. The time the grumbles are not of admiration but of annoyance. Seonghwa doesn’t seem to care.
San’s eyes widen when he spots you and one eyebrow raises at the sight of Seonghwa holding your hand. Suddenly embarrassed, you pull your hand away from him although Seonghwa doesn’t seem to notice. He’s on a mission and only one thing is on his mind.
The print on San’s shirt defies logic and reasoning, distantly reminding you of a Taco Bell you stepped into a few weeks ago. Paired with even more colourful pants, you are unsure how it took this long to spot him in the crowd.
“What are you two doing here?” San exclaims loudly.
Without preamble, Seonghwa goes, “I need the Scream tape back.”
“You came all this way for that?” He asks confused.
Wooyoung slides out of the small booth he was occupying, plucking the drink out of San’s hand. Tonight, he’s wearing a nylon dark pink button up with three of the buttons undone, exposing his tanned chest. His pants are so tight that you aren’t sure how he even got into them.
Wooyoung waves at you and goes, “Who is your friend?”
“New coworker,” San exclaims over the music before turning his attention back to Seonghwa. “I don’t have it. I gave it to Yeosang when I got home and he took it with him when he left.”
Seonghwa’s hands flex at his sides, a motion only you notice. “Where is he?”
“I think he’s out with Mingi and Jongho tonight. They were gonna watch the movie at Mingi’s place. We were going to meet them there later.”
“Where is he now?” Seonghwa grinds out between clenched teeth.
San is picking up on the tension, glancing at you but your expression gives nothing away. “Is everything alright? Why do you need the tape back so badly?”
“I’ll explain later. I just need it back tonight,” Seonghwa replies.
Wooyoung, who has been silent this entire conversation, his eyes bouncing between the two men, throws his arm around San’s shoulders while pointing at Seonghwa, still holding his drink. “Who is this guy? I like him. He gets right to the point. He’s very money, you know what I mean?”
You interrupt quickly. “It’s to do with me, San. Please don’t ask any questions.”
It’s a lie, of course, but you know San will respect your request. You can feel Seonghwa’s eyes flick to you for a second.
“Yeah, it’s no problem. I don’t mean to be pushy. Yeosang is at the minigolf course. The one with the big wizard in the middle, you know it?”
“I do, yeah. Thanks for the help.”
“It’s all good,” San replies.
“Are you sure you don’t wanna hang?” Wooyoung asks Seonghwa, “We’re just getting started here.”
“I appreciate the offer but we gotta bounce. Nice meeting you.” Seonghwa is already turning away, eyes darting towards the exit.
You give the two men a small wave and then it is back to being smushed in the crowd, wiggling through the writhing bodies as the music pulsates around you. You’re walking behind Seonghwa, his hand searching for yours so the two of you don’t get separated. Your fingers curl around his and you find yourself studying the curve of his neck, the way his shoulders look in his sweater. From this angle, you can just make out the muscles underneath the tight fabric.
Seonghwa glances over his shoulder to make sure you’re alright. You can’t read his gaze; something shifts behind it, ever changing and unfolding. In that moment, it feels as if you’ve known him forever, in a thousand different locations across a thousand different universes.
Back into the night air, Seonghwa turns to face you. “Do you know what minigolf course San was talking about?”
“Yeah, I do.”
“Great, come on.” He takes off across the parking lot towards the car. His back is illuminated by the neon from the sign of the club, dousing him in a bright blue that his hair soaks up.
You follow, catching up with him as Seonghwa asks, “What are you gonna tell San when he asks why you needed the tape?”
“I don’t know. I just said that because I knew he would drop it.”
“Well, you bought us time,” He remarks, opening the door to the car, “Tell me how to get to the minigolf course.”
Back in the passenger seat, you can still feel the tension rolling off Seonghwa. Unable to help yourself, you try to reassure him. “We’ll find Yeosang there. I’m sure he will have the tape on him. It’s nearby too.”
Seonghwa brushes off your words. “Just tell me how to get there.”
*
It takes fifteen minutes to get to the minigolf course. A large garish wizard hat juts out of the centre of the course, covered in purple lights to make it glow. There is an assortment of other tacky objects sticking upwards – palm trees, a poorly made replica of the leaning tower of Pisa, a UFO that used to rotate five years ago but has since broken down and not been repaired.
Seonghwa gazes at the sight through the windshield, clearly assessing the situation before getting out of the car. You take off after him, fighting the urge to grab his hand. It made sense in the club, not here.
As you approach the entrance, the sound of top 40 radio plays loudly over speakers. Seonghwa bypasses the ticket booth completely, instead opting to head directly onto the course. But a bored looking employee glances up from the magazine he’s reading and gets to his feet quickly.
“Whoa, hey there, homeslice. I need to see the ticket.” He extends his hand out to Seonghwa.
“I’m not playing,” He says quickly, “I just am getting something from a friend.”
“Sure, I can just let anyone pass by without a ticket,” The man rolls his eyes, “No ticket, no entrance.”
“It’ll take less than five minutes,” Seonghwa protests, the agitation at being so close and so far starting to get to him.
You hover by his side and quietly go, “Seonghwa, let’s just go buy a ticket.”
“I don’t want to buy a ticket. The ticket is for playing minigolf and I’m not playing,” He grinds out, staring at the attendant, “So, just let me in.”
The attendant, who is stuck wearing an ugly polyester blue button up, looks positively thrilled at finally having something interesting happening. “No can do, dude,” He says gleefully.
You grab Seonghwa’s upper arm, briefly distracted by the firm muscles underneath, before carting him away from the entrance. While gesturing to the ticket booth, you go, “Let’s just buy a ticket. Do you really wanna throw down with the guy working the minigolf course? We won’t get to Yeosang that way.”
“I don’t care,” He says stubbornly, “He’s being an asshole.”
Your irritation gets the best of you. “If you could wrangle your repressed anger under control for two seconds –”
“My what?”
“You know exactly what I’m talking about, Seonghwa. The entire night, you’ve been furious at me and just won’t say it. So, you just shove everything down and ignore it and pretend you’re so calm and collected but you’re not –”
Seonghwa takes a step towards you. His demeanor is icy cold now. “Not everything is about you,” He replies in a tone that could frost over a window, “As much as you want it to be.”
Your eyes narrow. “What the hell does that mean?”
“If I’ve been repressing anger all night, you’ve been holding back too. The multiple attempts to steer the conversation back to how sorry you are, how you found the tape, how little you watched of it.” Another step closer, close enough to touch now. “Why don’t you stop bullshitting and just admit you wanna ask me questions about the tape and what I do in my spare time?”
You hadn’t thought it was that obvious. Seonghwa striking the centre of your heart with his accusation makes your breath catch. You can’t bring yourself to reply.
“The tape not only has me on it but also my ex. It violates her privacy for anyone else to see it, not just mine. That’s the most important thing going on right now, not you having some sort of sexual awakening at seeing a few minutes of it.”
You make a strangled noise in the back of your throat, knowing Seonghwa is correct but also feeling exposed at the same time. He stalks off past you, going towards the ticket booth. The employee at the entrance is gawking at the two of you although he didn’t hear anything said.
“You and your boyfriend are pretty intense,” He says over the din of top forty music.
“He’s not my boyfriend,” You mumble, looking over your shoulder at Seonghwa.
Seonghwa is smiling casually at the person working the ticket booth. All earlier signs of irritation are wiped clean from his beautiful face. He is chatting as though he doesn’t have a care in the world. Was I really that obvious? Or is he just that good at reading people? You are embarrassed but manage to make your facial expression look as placid as possible when Seonghwa returns to you.
“Ready?” He asks as if the two of you hadn’t just been at each other’s throats a couple of minutes ago.
After you nod, Seonghwa thrusts the tickets at the attendant who takes them in an over the top gesture and tacks on, “Have a good night!”
Entering the minigolf course, you stop to grab one of the little putters. Seonghwa notices and drawls, “Really?”
You hand it off to him. “Yes, really. You wanna blend in or look like the weird guy stalking across a golf course?”
He takes it, holding it daintily with his long fingers while studying it. “You were right. About the ticket. I wasn’t thinking clearly.”
You’re holding your own putter now, staring at him. “I know. I wouldn’t think clearly in your situation either.”
Seonghwa looks at you for a long moment. You get the sense he wants to say more but he gives a small shake of his head, turning his attention back to the course. “Come on. We’ll just start at the first hole and wander around until you spot them.”
The next ten minutes are spent navigating the busy course which includes a moment where Seonghwa ducks to avoid a little kid swinging the putter and another where you almost lose your footing and awkwardly trip off a tiny fake bridge. There are a few questioning glances shot in your direction as the two of you bypass playing completely while you try to spot Yeosang.
Finally, near the gigantic wizard hat, you spot him along with who you assume is Mingi and Jongho. Yeosang, in baggy jeans and an oversized green hoodie, looks to be talking very animatedly with a tall man who is wildly gesturing. The other man is watching them with an amused expression on his face as if it is a very funny TV show.
“There they are.” You nudge Seonghwa to get his attention. “Are you doing the talking or am I?”
“You start and I’ll follow. Yeosang is familiar with you and doesn’t know me.”
“Alright, let’s go.”
You cut across a particularly ugly ice cream cone that is the centre of hole number ten and call out Yeosang’s name. He looks up in surprise but waves when he sees you.
“Wassup? Didn’t know you like minigolfing,” He says as you and Seonghwa stop in front of the group. “Mingi and I were just having a disagreement about how many hits he took to get the ball in the hole.”
The tall man, who is dressed entirely in acid wash denim, protests. “It was four strokes. You’re saying five and that’s not true.”
The other guy, who must be Jongho, goes, “Can we please move on? I want to get an Icee.”
“In this temperature?” Mingi asks, momentarily distracted.
Jongho tugs on his long sleeve, wearing a plaid dress shirt with all the buttons undone, a black t-shirt underneath, topped off with a simple pair of jeans. “It isn’t that cold in this.”
Seonghwa, who is already radiating an intense energy that will be overflowing at any second, swiftly interrupts, “Sorry, but I was talking to San and he said you had the Scream tape?”
Yeosang nods. “Yeah, it’s in my bag. Oh! You must be the coworker he is borrowing it from?”
“That’s right. I just need to see it for a second please.”
“Sure,” He turns around, scooping his bag off the ground which it had been unceremoniously dumped on and pulls out the tape, handing it to Seonghwa. “There you go.”
“Thanks so much,” Seonghwa replies calmly.
He immediately pries his fingers into the slots and begins to unspool the tape, wildly tugging it out onto the ground. Everyone, including yourself, falls silent, watching as Seonghwa then drops the plastic shell onto the ground and begins to take the putter to it. His hair falls out of place as he beats the shit out of the VHS tape with the putter, the shell cracking from the sheer force at which he strikes it.
“This dude is wacked,” Mingi mumbles.
“I heard Scream was a good movie,” Jongho says, brows furrowed in confusion.
“Guess we won’t find out now,” Yeosang replies dryly, “I suppose we’re watching Mystery Science Theater 3000 tonight.”
Seonghwa exhales, his cheeks puffing out while doing so, tossing the putter to the ground while scooping up the remains of the VHS tape. He runs his fingers through his hair although it doesn’t fix it.
“Thanks guys. Have a good night.” Seonghwa says as if he just didn’t go postal in the middle of the minigolf course.
He glances at you before taking off back the way he came. You give an apologetic look at Yeosang, unsure what to say and settling on nothing. Following Seonghwa, who is still holding onto what little of the tape remained, with the cheery pop music playing over the sound of laughter and people talking, you aren’t sure if speaking right now would help him. Does he need comfort? Is he relieved? He showed no hesitation in destroying the tape immediately. Had that been his plan the entire night?
Luckily for the attendant working the entrance, the exit loops around the other side of the course, taking you both into the parking lot before Seonghwa can start bickering with him again. He drops the pieces of the plastic casing into the nearest trash can although he is still holding the film, wrapping it carefully around his slender fingers.
“Seonghwa,” You say tentatively and he stops, looking over at you.
In the lights of the parking lot, Seonghwa is a slim figure with his black hair glowing. His breathing is slightly uneven, his features not nearly as collected as they’ve been all night. There is something raw wiggling underneath the surface of his composure, something you desperately want to touch.
“I’ll take you back to your place now,” He says roughly, “Come on.”
You don’t know what to reply with so you merely nod. A few minutes later, the car is pulling out of the parking lot and back onto the main road. You quietly tell Seonghwa how to get to your apartment from here. The tape is in his lap, the film nestled like a snake in between his thighs. You wonder what he will do with it. Set it on fire, maybe. He seems intent on destroying it completely. You understand why but still feel a pain of regret in your chest. There would be no viewing the rest of the tape now.
You suddenly feel very tired. Between work and the entire events of the sex tape, you’re ready to crawl in bed and sleep in tomorrow. You lean back in the seat, staring idly out the window. The radio is playing music quietly and Seonghwa doesn’t say a word. You still get the sense he is wrangling himself in. Does he do that all the time? Why bother? Why shield yourself from people to the extent he does? You see his smile from the tape in your mind once again. To your surprise, you feel a spark of jealousy buried in your chest. His ex got to see the real Seonghwa while you’ve been seeing his façade. You want to know him like that. You want to touch him like that.
The silent admission to yourself is unsettling. It’s been ages since you’ve wanted someone. Your attraction to Seonghwa earlier this week seems easier to digest when you thought your personalities wouldn’t be compatible. But his words outside the minigolf course were correct – those few minutes of him on your TV screen are making something deep inside you stir.
The streetlights swim lazily across Seonghwa as he drives silently. They blend in with his white sweater before appearing on his tanned skin, small pools of light that travel over his body before eventually being lost behind the car.
When he parks at your apartment complex, he goes, “I’ll walk you to your door.”
This time, you don’t refuse. Back into the cold air, you stop at the outskirts of the pool near the staircase to the second floor.
“Seonghwa,” You say again, your hand resting against the cold metal of the banister, “Now that you got the tape, and everything is sorted out, I really –”
“Don’t,” He says swiftly, “You’re going to apologize again. It isn’t your fault. I already told you that.”
“I know what you said,” You are two steps up on the staircase, looking slightly down at Seonghwa, whose hand is inches from yours on the banister, “But outside of the golf course…”
“Was I too harsh?”
“I just don’t understand why you’re pretending all the time,” You say after a beat of silence, “When I met you earlier this week, you were pleasant enough. But it’s obvious that isn’t what you’re really like. Just the few minutes of the tape showed that to me. And I’ve caught it once or twice before, at work, when you are obviously shoving your real self back down. Throughout tonight, I’ve seen glimpses of who you actually are – the quick lying, the flashes of irritation, your nerves at someone seeing the tape…I just don’t understand why you hide it everywhere but on a VHS tape.”
There. You said what you’ve been thinking the whole night. Seonghwa’s face doesn’t change the entire time you speak. But you aren’t fooled by it anymore.
Seonghwa places his feet on the first step of the staircase. He’s extremely close to you now; his body’s warmth seeps into your skin. You fight the urge to place your hands against his chest to pull on his sweater so that he will kiss you.
You aren’t sure what his reply was going to be but you aren’t prepared for the way his voice drops to almost a murmur. “You’re really intrigued about the tape, aren’t you? I wonder what makes you so curious. It is the idea of letting the camera see all of you for who you truly are? Is it just the idea of fucking and recording it that you find so compelling? Maybe both.”
You’ve gone still, frozen in surprise at the words leaving his mouth. He leans forward, his lips so close to your ear that your heart skips a beat. “Do you regret turning the tape off when you did? Your conscience prevailed; you did the morally right thing in a few minutes. Others would have watched the entire thing. But some part of you wishes it kept it running so you could watch me fuck my ex, listen to what we talked about. You know, I was so focused on getting rid of the tape, I don’t even know what one this one contains. We filmed so many,” He lingers on the last word as your brain fills up with mental images of tape after tape of Seonghwa, “What happened in the first few minutes of the tape?”
Shakily, you manage to whisper, “You were on a beach. And then in a diner. Finally, a hotel room.”
You don’t see Seonghwa smile but you can feel it, like an arrow in the dark, so fast that the sensation is gone in a second. “The vacation tape,” He pauses and continues, “I prefer being on film. Being seen. I feel comfortable and at ease. The camera misses nothing. The lens cuts through everything. All the noise and the bullshit. It isn’t about watching it back later. It isn’t about sharing it. I fill a tape, shove it in the collection. Destroy them when the relationship ends. Rinse and repeat. It’s about capturing that one moment and putting it on film. Everything when the camera isn’t on feels like bullshit. I feel like bullshit.”
“Why?”
Seonghwa shakes his head. “Dunno. Just always have. I only exist when the camera is on. Otherwise, I can’t be myself. Been that way forever. I’ll ask you again – did you regret turning the tape off?”
It doesn’t even enter your mind to lie. “Yes.”
“You wanted to watch me fuck my ex? Or did you want to be on that tape with me?”
Your body is growing hot all over. You wish Seonghwa would touch you. His hand is so close to yours that you would settle for him just to brush his fingers against your skin.
“Yes,” You whisper so quietly that if he weren’t so close to you, it would have been impossible to hear. You aren’t even sure what question you’re answering. Maybe it is both.
But Seonghwa pulls away abruptly then. With his warmth gone, it feels like a hole has opened in your chest. He runs his fingers through his hair but you take note of the slightly uneven way he is breathing. You want to grab him, see him for who he really is with no pretenses, have the camera lens on his body while he –
“I need to get home. I won’t be able to relax until I finish destroying the film,” His eyes trail along your body quickly and it feels deeply personal to have Seonghwa look at you in such a manner, “Goodnight.”
You don’t want him to go. You want him to follow you to your apartment and fuck you silly. But he turns around and in a couple of seconds, he has rounded the corner, leaving you alone with your thoughts, your desires and the briefest glimmer of the man Seonghwa truly is.
Monday, October 13th, 1997
“You gonna explain why Seonghwa opened up a can of whoop-ass on a VHS tape in the middle of a minigolf course on Saturday night or am I not privy to that information?”
You stifle a groan, unable to duck and dodge San any longer. You had yesterday off, which didn’t end up being as fun as it sounded, due to the fact all you did was lay in bed running the events of Saturday night over and over in your head.
And you still hadn’t come up with any sort of realistic story to tell San about the tape especially since Seonghwa had opted to destroy it with a minigolf putter.
“It’s complicated,” You finally settle on.
San’s eyebrows shoot upwards. “Complicated? Should I be concerned about your little work crush? Could he be a little…unwell?”
“He’s not unwell,” You say defensively, “It’s just complicated. Can you just drop it, please? It was his tape, after all.”
“Just makes no sense. You said the situation had to do with you. But why did Seonghwa go postal on the tape like that?”
You’re starting to get a headache. You’ve had way too much coffee before coming into work and your nerves are frazzled between the idea of seeing Seonghwa and how much time you’ve spent analyzing his words to you Saturday night before he left. Yes you told him on the staircase, yes you wanted to watch the entire tape, yes you wanted to see him have sex with his ex and yes, you wanted to be on film with him. A jarring admission, one that you’re still grappling with.
“San, my break ended a few minutes ago. Just please, for the sake of our friendship, I’m asking you to drop the entire thing.”
He holds his hands up in a gesture of innocence. “Fine. Consider it dropped. However, it is not forgotten.”
“I’ll take it, thanks,” You reply, heading quickly to the exit. “Listen, I’ll help you with inventory sometime this week, okay?”
“You’re just sucking up to me.”
“Yes, but you hate inventory,” You fire back over your shoulder.
“I do so I’ll accept it!” He calls after you.
Back in the store, you meander your way towards to the women’s clothing department. Part of you is desperate to run into Seonghwa while the other part is dreading it. What do you even say to him? Just a simple hello? How can you look him in the face knowing his entire personality is carefully curated bullshit to hide who he really is? How can you talk to him after what he said to you last night? How can you hold a conversation when you are so desperate to have him?
You end up avoiding the shortcut through the men’s clothing section. Even so, your eyes carefully scan the area for any sight of him among the racks of ugly dresses and t-shirts. Once you’re safely in the dressing rooms, reorganizing and cleaning out the mess people leave behind, you relax slightly.
You wanted to watch me fuck my ex? Or did you want to be on that tape with me?
Seonghwa’s words bang around in your brain no matter how much you try to push them away. Even as you go through the motions of work, your mind lingers on how warm his body was so close to yours on the stairs, the low timber of his voice in your ear, and how he saw through you and all your pretenses.
In fact, you’re so swept up in work and your thoughts, that you don’t realize Seonghwa is in the dressing room area until he says your name. Flinching in surprise, you look over your shoulder.
He stands there in his blue work vest, his arms so full of clothes that it looks like they could spill onto the floor at any second. Seonghwa’s face is beautifully impassive. You get the sense he has also been avoiding you.
“Wanted to drop off all the women’s clothes that ended up in the men’s dressing rooms before my shift ends,” He explains in a clipped tone.
“Right. Thanks.” You move closer, trying to take the clothes from him.
But there is simply too much and a good portion falls onto the floor. Your hands brush against his in the mess of fabric, sending your heart racing so quickly that it almost makes your chest hurt. Seonghwa is staring at you through his long lashes although his eyes dart away when yours meet his.
You manage to wrangle a good chunk of the clothes away, tossing it onto the small table at the end of the hallway that you use to organize them. “You can just dump the rest here.”
Seonghwa does so and then an awkward silence settles across the empty dressing rooms. The store closes in ten minutes. You didn’t think you’d be seeing Seonghwa at all today. We filmed so many he had whispered, teasing you with the mental images of whatever lurked on those tapes.
“Do you want any help?” He offers.
“I got it, thanks,” You say quickly, knowing the longer he stands next to you, the higher chance there is at the conversation going sideways.
His fingers are touching one of the t-shirts, his expression unfocused. “I wanted to apologize.”
You hesitate and then go, “For what?”
“I was pretty…intense Saturday night. I also talked to you out of line at the end there,” He swallows, staring at the pile of clothes as if they were a fascinating creature, “I shouldn’t have done that. I’m sorry.”
You feel stuck. It would be simpler to accept the apology and put the entire thing in the past. But a much larger part of you has shifted since discovering what Seonghwa is really like, brought to life by his words and the images on the tape, growing louder every passing moment. It is difficult to ignore these new feelings inside your chest.
“It’s all good. It was a stressful situation. I think it would make anyone start trippin although San is asking questions and I have nothing to tell him. It is a little harder to come up with a story when you…beat the shit out of the tape in front of everyone.”
“Yeah,” He looks at you sheepishly. “I lost my cool for a sec.”
“Cracked your pleasant exterior there,” You joke quietly.
His lips twist up into a smile for a brief second. You’re feeling hot all over, knowing it would be far easier just to let the conversation stop here. Easier to return to the way things were before the tape. Let Seonghwa be a work crush and nothing else.
“But, uhm,” You pick up a shirt, carefully folding it so that you don’t have to look at him, “I didn’t mind how you talked to me. At the end of the night.”
Seonghwa’s breathing changes slightly, something you wouldn’t have noticed a few days ago. But it is as if viewing the tape, learning about who he is and spending Saturday night with him has synced you up to Seonghwa in a new way.
“Is that right?” He finally replies, his voice even and without emotion.
“Yeah, I’ve been…thinking about what you said,” Your voice trembles slightly, betraying your nerves.
Seonghwa moves ever so slightly closer to you. Relief swoops through your body at his close proximity. “What about it?” He murmurs.
You take in a small breath and go, “I was thinking about asking you to come over. Tomorrow night.”
He hesitates for a small second. “To your place?”
“Yeah. I mean. If you’d want.” You are a mixture of anxiety and desire.
But you push through it to look at Seonghwa’s face. You recognize the expression this time – he is teying to maintain his calm exterior, aware that he is at work and in a public setting.
“Should I bring anything?” He asks in a forced nonchalant voice.
Your grip tightens on the shirt. After spending all day trying to dodge Seonghwa, you can’t believe how you’re cracking after a couple of minutes around him. But perhaps avoiding him was your own way of denying what you wanted.
“Maybe your camera,” You say with forced casualness.
But the words seem to crack Seonghwa. He moves closer to you, just as close as the time on the staircase. In a strangled voice, he goes, “You’re not making fun of me, are you?”
Surprised, you exclaim, “What? No, not at all.”
His hand reaches out for you but then thinks better of it. Falling back to his side, he flexes his fingers. His voice drops to a whisper. “I work a closing tomorrow but I’ll come over afterwards.”
You’re done work at five tomorrow which gives you plenty of time to get ready for…whatever you’re getting into. Seonghwa’s gaze is heavy, his energy buzzing. You want to push him, crack him open fully so that you can experience what he is like without any barriers…and maybe you want the same thing for yourself too. You want to know what it would be like being stripped away of all things you carefully hide behind without even realizing it. You just didn’t know that such a thing was so desired until you saw Seonghwa on that tape.
You nod, wanting to say more but nerves getting the best of you. He pulls away, trying to control his breathing. There is a slight flush of colour creeping up his neck. You get a vivid mental image of being on top of him, your hands against his chest, taking him fully inside you –
Quickly, you look away, afraid your thoughts might be all over your face. Seonghwa wishes you a goodnight, leaving the dressing rooms quickly before the energy crackles and explodes, spilling out into work.
He works so hard to keep everything separate, after all.
Tuesday, October 14th, 1997
You’re looking out the window of the living room, staring at the unremarkable view. The neon of the Taco Bell sign washes over the street, bathing the cars in the bright colour for a second or two as they drive by. You can just make out the interior, a swirl of pink, blue and purple, like a little lighthouse in the night.
You don’t think you’ve never felt so nervous staring at Taco Bell before.
It’s past ten which means Seonghwa will be here in about twenty minutes. Having invited him on a whim, driven by a combination of lust and curiosity, you’re now dealing with the reality of what you suggested. In asking him to bring his camera, you’ve basically admitted to him and yourself that you want to see what filming together would be like. And while you’re aware that you can change your mind and tell him to forget it once he arrives, the truth of the matter is that you don’t want to do such a thing.
Your attraction to Seonghwa has only been heightened since seeing the tape, and your own sexual exploration seemed to be spilling out of you with a mighty need. As nervous as you feel, you also have no interest in denying it any longer.
You aren’t sure how long you stare out the window, spacing out, but a soft knock at the door startles your thoughts away. Exhaling slowly, you cross the small living room, opening the front door to see Seonghwa standing there.
He’s wearing a very colourful button up tucked into a pair of blue jeans. A bag is slung over his shoulder and his hair is a little messy from the chilly wind. Your heart skips a beat violently at the sight of him.
“Hey. Oh, uh, come in,” You say awkwardly, moving to the side as Seonghwa walks past, “How was work?”
“Fine, the usual. You know how it is. I like your place.”
You blink. “Really? I don’t think it’s anything exciting.”
He glances over his shoulder. “Well, I didn’t say it was exciting. I just like how comfortable it looks.”
“Thanks. How are you doing with unpacking your own place?”
Seonghwa places the bag on the coffee table while replying, “Besides the mishap with the tape, it has been uneventful.”
He speaks of the tape so candidly now although given the circumstances, why wouldn’t he?
“Did you and your ex live together long?” It no longer felt awkward to mention his last relationship – so much is different now with Seonghwa.
“We did although that seemed to be our undoing. Only lasted a few months after we moved in together,” He replies while turning to face you. “For the sake of honesty, I haven’t been with anyone else since my relationship ended. Does that bother you?”
“No because I haven’t either. I find those things…distracting. I just was focusing on work and other things in my life.”
“Am I a distraction?”
“What?”
He repeats himself.
Your cheeks grow warm. “I mean – technically, yes.”
Seonghwa is fighting off a smile. You can tell by the way he tilts his face away from your direction to look at your TV.
“Do you want anything to drink?” You offer.
“Just some water is fine, thanks.”
“Alright. Uh, please sit down. Don’t feel like you need to stand there.”
You scamper out of the living room, wishing your nerves would settle. Now that he is here, you feel scattered. Your attraction to him has grown tenfold in the last few days and you can’t remember the last time you’ve wanted someone this much.
Returning with a couple of glasses of water, you sit down next to Seonghwa on the couch. Desperate to fill the silence, you turn on the TV, immediately blasted with a Surge ad.
“Listen,” Seonghwa says after a few minutes, “We don’t have to do anything tonight. I don’t want you to think I went into anything with expectations.”
Hurriedly, you reply, “I know that.”
“I understand you’re curious because the concept is new to you. But that doesn’t mean you’re going to be into it.”
You turn to face him, your fingers wrapped around your glass of water. Seonghwa tilts his head in your direction.
“I am curious,” You say quickly, “And I don’t really understand why. I’ve never thought about something like that until I saw those few minutes of the tape. And I…” You swallow, feeling shy. “Well, I only think about it with you. I was attracted to you right away but…you seemed so…nice. As if there wasn’t a lot going on underneath the surface. So, I assumed the attraction would never deepen. But after I saw the tape…I felt like I saw you.”
“And?” He prompts.
“And I was intrigued. At you. At the idea of filming stuff like that. The idea of a camera around, catching all these private moments. I started realizing how much you pull yourself under control, how you’re wearing a mask all the time.”
“Everyone wears a mask in public. Most people just don’t realize it.”
“You think I’m realizing it now then?”
“Maybe. I don’t want to speak over your feelings or pretend I know what you’re thinking of. But yes, you’re right about me. I struggle with being vulnerable, being myself. I always switch into this false personality. I don’t even mean to do it.”
“But you don’t do it while recording.”
“That’s right. Something about seeing that little red light on switches it off.”
“And what about…” Your shyness deepens.
“Filming myself having sex?” After you nod, Seonghwa goes, “It just turns me on. Makes sex better. Makes me more relaxed. In that moment of filming, I feel free. Capturing those moments of pleasure…it feels crucial to my enjoyment.”
“Has everyone you’ve been dating into it too?”
“After I realized how much I like it, yeah. When the relationship ends, I destroy all the tapes. Just out of respect. Recording it isn’t really about watching it back anyway. It’s just about that moment of filming the intimacy of it.”
You fall silent, battling more questions and your ever growing desire for Seonghwa. He turns his attention back to the TV, although you get the feeling he really isn’t engrossed in the episode of NYPD Blue playing. Your eyes land on the large bag he brought.
Could you record yourself sleeping with Seonghwa? Knowing that moment would be captured on a tape with him? It’s all you have been thinking about since discovering Seonghwa’s secret. But now that you can make it a reality, your nerves are still battling for dominance.
“Could I see it?” You ask suddenly, “The camera, I mean.”
“Sure,” He replies, leaning forward and pulling the bag towards him.
Unzipping the bag, he pulls out a large and chunky camcorder, resting it in his lap. He runs his fingers along the side where the spot for the tape opens while saying, “I was reading that they’re making these new cameras that are apparently a lot smaller and would be digital, if you could imagine such a thing. Would make filming a lot easier than this heavy thing.”
“So you don’t…hold it during…”
He laughs. “No. I just plop it down on a table or something during sex. But if the digital cameras end up truly becoming a thing, I suppose I could hold it during sex. Or you could,” He immediately realizes what he casually said and looks embarrassed. “Not that I meant – I don’t mean to assume that we would sleep together. Or you would be comfortable filming anything.”
You reach for the camera, grabbing it out of his lap and into your own, studying it. It isn’t as though it’s your first time holding such a thing but it has been a while. “How do you start recording?”
“You insert the tape and then press this button,” He leans closer, showing you where it is located.
You study his face, eyes lingering on his lips. “Where’s the tape?”
Seonghwa meets your gaze for a beat before moving away to retrieve it from the bag. He presses a button, the side popping out so he can insert the VHS tape. Snapping it shut, he says, “Then you can hit record. Each tape can roughly film for two hours.”
You hesitate for a moment before reaching for the camera. Your fingers touch his, an electric vibration that sparks along your skin. You can hear Seonghwa’s breath catch slightly but he relinquishes the camera. You look into the camera’s viewfinder while popping the cover off the lens.
You know what you want – Seonghwa and the exploration the recording will bring. Even though it is something you’ve never thought of until that moment you saw Seonghwa on your TV, with his beautiful smile, toned chest and low voice talking dirty, it seems to have awakened something deep inside you. Something that won’t rest, won’t stop, until you explore your desires.
You press down on the record button, making sure Seonghwa is in frame. You know he can see the red light, aware that you’re recording.
“Tell me about the first time you filmed yourself having sex,” You ask bluntly.
Seonghwa raises an eyebrow although the chuckle he emits makes it clear he isn’t offended. “You interviewing me now?”
“A little.”
“It actually wasn’t my idea, if you can believe it. My girlfriend at the time brought it up to me one night after she noticed how much I liked recording home movies.”
“Did she notice how comfortable you seemed on camera?”
“Yeah, she did. It felt like a natural progression to me like oh, why hadn’t I thought of it? I was always trying to get in front of the camera ever since I can remember. But she was the first one to suggest taking it that far.”
“Were you nervous?”
“No.” Seonghwa looks relaxed now. The tension you hadn’t even realized he carried has now softened, his shoulders are lowered while he leans against the couch, still facing you. His hair grazes against his cheek from the angle. You catch yourself admiring his face, the slope of his nose, how his fingers rest in his lap. “No, I felt comfortable right away. What about you?”
“What about me?”
“You ever think about filming yourself having sex before?”
“No, absolutely not.”
“Not until my tape.”
“That’s right.”
“You like filming me?” He asks and after you nod, he goes, “This time, you don’t have to shut it off before it gets to the good part.”
“A little cocky now, don’t you think?”
He gives a casual shrug. This is the Seonghwa you saw on the TV – relaxed, confident, letting each emotion come easily without judgement. This is the Seonghwa you’ve wanted.
You lean back against the couch, the camera still recording in your lap while motioning to the front of the TV. “Why don’t you show me how comfortable you are in front of the camera?” You can hardly believe the words after you say them. I guess it isn’t just Seonghwa who shows new sides of himself to the camera.
But Seonghwa only grins at your request, getting up and standing in front of the TV. He pulls the colourful shirt from the confines of his jeans, his fingers swiftly undoing the buttons to expose a thin white tank top underneath. Your heart rate is already accelerating at the sight of the fabric resting against his taunt stomach.
“Is this what you wanted?” He teases and your thighs clench at the fact you’re hearing that tone of voice being used on you now.
“Don’t be coy.”
Another grin. Yes, Seonghwa is correct – that little red light on from the camera changes him entirely. He shrugs out of the shirt, exposing his shoulders before it falls to the floor. Wearing just the tank top now, he hooks his thumbs into the front of his jeans, staring at you with an expression that looks almost devious.
“What?” You say defensively.
His grin widens. “Nothing. You’re just obvious.”
“What does that mean?”
“Come here and I’ll show you.”
You stand up, holding the heavy camera while ambling towards him. He reaches for the camera, taking it out of your hands and placing it on the top of the TV stand, giving the lens a view of your faces down to just under your shoulders.
After he finishes positioning the camera, Seonghwa turns his attention back to you. He is as close to your body as he was the other night on the stairs. Your breathing is uneven, aware of the camera on you, aware of everything you’ve been secretly thinking about is going to come to fruition.
“See?” He murmurs.
“What?”
Seonghwa smirks while running one finger down along your arm and your body shivers in response. “That. How much you want me.”
“Well, some of us aren’t experts at hiding ourselves all the time,” You counter.
His lips hover just above yours, hands coming up to cup your cheeks. Your body is screaming for Seonghwa, your brain buzzing with need, lips parted in anticipation.
There is no witty retort from him. Instead, Seonghwa kisses you. Softly at first, enough to shake the centre of you. His lips against yours makes you feel slightly delirious as if not realizing you were dying of thirst. The camera’s gaze remains steady on both of you while the kiss continues. His tongue slips past your lips, exploring your mouth so tenderly that your hands hold onto the band of his jeans to steady yourself.
Your whimper is muffled against the kiss, face warm, body responsive to this man you’ve only known for a week – and only truly known for a few days. Seonghwa’s hands are in your hair as yours circle around his small waist, pressing him against your body. He is stiff in his jeans but still his hands travel downward until they rest on your ass, squeezing it. The kiss continues, growing deeper, hungrier, breaking briefly so you can pull off his tank top.
You are pressing your hands against his hard stomach, running up along his chest until curling them around his shoulders, breathless at the sight of him. His skin is warm, inviting, and the sight of him in just his jeans is incredibly sexy.
Seonghwa brings his face to your neck, kissing along there while his grip on your ass tightens. Your eyes flutter closed for a second. The barriers of your clothing are becoming an annoyance now. You want more of him, you want all of him.
When you open your eyes, they land on the camera. A silent observer, missing nothing, no judgement to be found.
“Seonghwa,” You whisper and he stops, pulling away just enough to look at you. His eyes are hazy with lust, lips parted prettily. “Come with me to my room,” You pause for a second before adding, “And bring the camera.”
*
In your room, the camera is once again propped onto the top of the TV which gives it the perfect angle of the bed. When originally purchasing the second TV at a yard sale, a friend had questioned needing another one. Now, you’re grateful for it – where else would the camera filming the two of you go?
You are still fully dressed, something Seonghwa looks to rectify from the way he gently nudges you into view of the camera while he stands behind you.
His hands are on your waist, skittering upwards until your shirt is pulled off, tossed onto the nearby dresser. In just your bra and sweatpants now, acutely aware of the camera, your breathing grows uneven. Seonghwa’s hands continue to travel, now onto your bra, squeezing your breasts together. He is kissing along your neck once again, his lips a soft whisper along your skin.
He tugs down on the bra, exposing your tits not only to his hands but to the camera as well. The entire thing feels more intimate than any other sexual encounter you’ve had before; the camera adds to the feeling as strange as it sounds in your head.
Seonghwa’s hands are warm. He cups your breasts, thumbs brushing across your nipples. You’re soaking wet, overwhelmed by the desire you’re experiencing for him. He rolls your nipples in between his fingers, pinching them a little, allowing the camera to take in the sight of him groping you like this.
You tilt your face in his direction and his lips find yours once again. You like how Seonghwa tastes in your mouth – it is familiar, almost as if you’ve kissed him before, kissed him a thousand times. When he pulls away, the look in his eyes is heavy, laced with lust and stripped away from any pretenses he usually carried so close to him.
You brush his hands away from your body, instead grabbing him by the waist band of his jeans, moving him closer to the camera on the top of the TV. Unbuttoning his jeans, you rub him through the denim, taking note of the way his breathing catches.
You lean towards the camera, moving it to the shelf underneath the TV, giving the lens a perfect view of you on your knees in front of Seonghwa. You look up at him, unzipping his pants and pulling them down until his boxers are exposed.
The camera can’t catch his facial expression but you can see it – the way he looks at you with his plump lips slightly parted, his eyes dancing across your hands down to your breasts. It isn’t just giving yourself over to him, it’s giving yourself over to the camera too.
Your hands rub against the bulge in his boxers, feeling the warmth through the fabric. Your hands dip into the band of his boxers, pulling it down until his cock springs free. Gently wrapping your hand around him, you bring your tongue across the head, sweeping across it once, twice, three times. Seonghwa exhales slowly while you begin to pump his cock, looking up at him. The camera’s gaze is steady on the two of you, the moment you take his length into your mouth captured on film.
Your tongue presses against the tip of his cock for a few seconds before taking more of him, filling your mouth with his length. Your other hand goes to his balls, fondling them while your tongue presses along the underside of his shaft.
Spurned on by the soft noises of pleasure that escape Seonghwa, you begin to bob on his cock. Sometimes, he pops out of your mouth, the tip of him a sticky sweet mess of your salvia and his precum. It glistens in the low lights before you take him once again, as much as you can. You enjoy the way he fills your mouth, stretches out your lips with his thickness.
Seonghwa’s eyes close, his head rolling back as a guttural groan topples from in between his pink lips before he curses sharply and pulls away. His cock slides out, precum smearing against your cheek.
With a small shake of his head, he goes, “I don’t wanna finish. I want to feel you wrapped around me.”
Seonghwa helps you up, scooping the camera off the shelf and back onto the top of the TV. This time he puts more care into the angle, asking you to sit on the bed while he looks through the viewfinder until he looks pleased with it.
“Look at you, big shot director,” You tease at one point.
He raises his eye from the viewfinder. “Hey, it’s your debut,” Seonghwa says gravely but the twinkle in his eyes makes it evident he’s joking. “Lay sideways on the bed for me, will you?”
“Yes, sir,” You are still poking at him.
When he seems satisfied, Seonghwa circles back to the bed. He crawls up along your body, stopping to remove your sweatpants and underwear. You’re completely naked with him on camera now while his lips travel across your stomach, stopping at your breasts. His tongue flicks over your nipples and he gently bites down on one, tugging on it with his teeth just to hear you gasp.
Seonghwa is skin to skin with you, not an inch in between your bodies as he finally kisses your lips. Your legs curl around his waist urgently, tugging on his bottom lip with your teeth until he groans in response.
It is simple to enter your pussy, having been wet for Seonghwa since he stepped foot inside your apartment. His length fills you swiftly until his hips touches yours. The next kiss is messy, a mixture of muffled moans and whimpers as Seonghwa goes still, allowing you to get used to the sensation of being filled with his cock.
His hands snake up along your arms, gently pinning your hands above your head, just at the edge of the mattress. Almost lazily, Seonghwa rocks his hips. The motion is small, just enough to send shocks of warmth and pleasure through your body. You groan out his name in a plea for him to move faster but he doesn’t obey.
“Sorry, my boo, but I’ve been thinking about this all week and I want to take my time,” Seonghwa declares, your hands entwined together, “I saw the way you looked at me when we first met, saw the disinterest flicker across your face when I drove you home the first time.” He moves his hips, pulling almost completely out of your hole. “And I went home that night and thought about inviting you over, teasing your body until you crumbled and begged for me.” He thrusts now, all the way back inside, until your hips meet once more and you gasp, your fingers curling around his for something to hold onto.
You can recall the memory, the way you mused that Seonghwa was too pleasant, too kind in that sort of neutral, placid way that meant even though he was beautiful, he faded to the background of your memory. But there is your side of things too…
“Your veneer isn’t perfect,” You counter with a small gasp when he rocks his hips again, “Maybe to others but not to me.”
“Is that right?” He growls.
Breathlessly, you explain, “I got the feeling multiple times you were holding back, hiding parts of yourself. You were so restrained all the time.” You remember the moment in the breakroom where he flattened his hand against his knee, wrangling himself under control. “But sometimes, I would see pieces. It made me want to crack those parts open, see you.”
Seonghwa is moving your legs now, sliding his arms under them so that they fold closer to your chest. He is still as near to you as he can get physically. But the angle change is intense and you grab the edge of the bed, gasping as he begins to pump his cock deeper into your cunt.
“And now?” He prompts but you can’t focus on the conversation anymore, not when his cock feels this good and he’s finally fucking you at a pace that only heightens the desire and pleasure. After your garbled moan, Seonghwa goes, “I’ll take that as your answer.”
Your eyes flutter open, the red light from the camera like a spotlight. This moment - captured either forever or until Seonghwa and you were to break apart. Tiny parts of yourself, combined with Seonghwa, in this intimate moment for the camera lens.
Your thighs shake, your pussy tightening around Seonghwa’s cock as your orgasm approaches. He keeps up the steady pace, the bed shaking with every thrust, your legs bouncing with each jerk of his hips. Your knuckles are white from clutching the edge of the bed, your bedsheets tangled around your fingers as Seonghwa pistons his cock into your wet cunt.
And then your orgasm begins, Seonghwa’s name a shattered piece of glass on the tip of your tongue as your hips meet his. The pleasure blots out everything; it is so exquisite that you lose yourself entirely to him.
Seonghwa pulls out, allowing you to stretch out your legs. “I want to fuck you from behind,” He says, his hands on your thighs, “Will you let me?”
You know that means facing the camera, allowing it to capture every expression on your face. You nod and Seonghwa helps you get into position on all fours, your ass in the air and hands pressed against the bed. He runs his hands over your ass before tugging you down a little, towards his cock.
“Seonghwa,” You say, looking over your shoulder at him. His hair is messy, his breathing rough, but all his protections over his personality are gone. He looks sexy, inviting, warm, all yours. “I want you to finish in me.”
He stops for a moment, glancing up at you before nodding. You turn back to the camera while he enters you once again. You gasp loudly – he feels much different from this angle and your eyes almost roll back into your head from how amazing it is. Seonghwa doesn’t stop this time. He immediately begins to pump and you curse roughly as his hips smack against yours.
One hand reaches for your hair, pulling it on it in a sharp tug, keeping your head up so that the camera captures your ever changing facial expressions. You like that it’s being filmed, both you and Seonghwa’s faces being recorded as you chase the pleasure your bodies can give.
He grunts out your name as he fucks you, releasing his hold on your hair so that he can grip your waist. Your hands shake and you finally relent, lowering your front half onto the bed. This allows him to fuck your cunt even deeper. You’re cursing loudly, begging him to keep going because you’re going to cum again. He doesn’t stop and you’re sure that the camera is going to show a thin layer of sweat across his forehead from how quickly Seonghwa’s hips snap into yours, his balls smacking against your ass, your wet pussy taking him easily.
Your hands grip the bed sheets, face down in the bed now, trying to muffle how much noise you’re making because of the neighbors. Seonghwa is grunting, panting, his fingers digging into your soft flesh as his cock pounds into your sopping wet hole.
Your orgasm starts suddenly, without any warning, and your back arches. You bring your ass backwards, trying to meet his erratic thrusts. At the same time, Seonghwa groans out your name and it sounds like gravel against the bottom of a shoe. He begins to spill inside of your cunt. Together, you both cum, in full view of the camera. His warmth overflows and when he pulls out, you can feel him dripping out of your cunt.
Legs like jelly, you fall against the bed, completely exhausted. But Seonghwa slides off, reaching for the camera and bringing it onto the bed. He plops it briefly onto the sheets while his hands go to your hips, rolling you onto your back.
“What?” You mumble, slightly dazed.
“I want to see your cunt filled with my load,” He explains, bringing the camera close, peering through the viewfinder.
His other hand gently spreads your lips apart, showing his cum leaking out from in between your folds. It’s lurid, completely pornographic, and you find it thrilling.
“You’re a perv,” You tease him.
His finger dips into your cunt, scooping up some of his cum. His hand trails up along your body, along with the camera lens, and when his finger is against your lips, you open, sucking his cum clean off.
“And what are you then?” He says.
“Your new girlfriend,” You reply boldly.
Seonghwa pulls away from the viewfinder, his eyes meeting yours. In the now quiet room, the only noise is of his soft breathing mingling with yours. The past is wiped clean, replaced with the new tape, the collision of two people caught on camera, entwining together both physically and mentally.
“That sounds perfect to me,” is what he finally says and you can read in between the lines – you aren’t just privy to Seonghwa’s true self through a camera lens anymore. You get access to him all the time.
You smile up at him, fucked out completely and never been more content.
Seonghwa returns the look, his finger hovering over the button to stop recording.
“What do you want to do now?” He asks.
You think for a moment before going, “We should –”
And his finger presses the button, ending the tape.
the end.
#ateez fics#ateez smut#seonghwa fics#seonghwa smut#seonghwa x reader#kpop fic#video girl#100 notes#500 notes#1000 notes
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》 pairing: c.s x f!reader, j.wy
》 genre: smut
》 wc: 1k
》 content: drug dealers! woosan, reader is san’s gf and woo may or may not have a crush on her, voyeurism, voyeur! woo, no mentions of drug use or violence, backseat fucking, reverse cowgirl, pussy slapping.
》 a/n: had to take a break after seeing that woosan outlaw trailer and write this…I literally can’t stop thinking about it.
🎧 speed- kali uchis
Tensions were high, and it didn’t help that Wooyoung’s delivery guy was 20 minutes late and counting. The exchange didn’t go as well as he had hoped, and he figured some fried chicken from this new place that opened downtown would offer him some solace. He noted that this was the first and last time he would order from there.
His partner San had his own way of dealing with stress. A very loud and obnoxious way. Being forced to listen to you and San go at it like wild animals while rattling the van from side to side really didn’t help make his hunger pains go away any faster.
“God damn it, can you guys keep it down back there?” He spat, losing his count of the wad of cash in his hands.
Neither of you heard him, not over your loud moans. You were sprawled over San’s lap with your back facing him, his fingers grasping on to your waist tightly as he fucked up into your pussy at a harsh pace. You had started off slow and steady, mindful not to make too much noise so as to not bother your boyfriend’s work associate, but San was always impatient, especially on nights like this, and he found your pace a little too slow for his liking. So he decided to take matters into his own hands- literally. He was holding onto you so tight that you were sure it would leave a mark. And as for you, well you tried your best to be quiet, but it was hard when San used you like his own personal cocksleeve. He rolled his hips up to your cunt, his hard tip reaching deep inside your sweet spot, and you two filled the van with the sounds of your guttered moans and slapping skins.
Growing agitated, Wooyoung slammed his hand on the front dash of the van to grab both your attention. “Hey! Wrap it up already, I got shit to do!” He waved the wads of cash in his hand so that San could see.
“Shut up or it’s my cock down your throat next!” San huffed, his thrusts getting harder and faster. San always respected Wooyoung, but his obedience would disappear the moment he’d stuff his cock inside of you. There was no way of getting him to listen now, and Wooyoung knew that. Annoyed with his distasteful words, and too exhausted to quarrel any longer, Wooyoung slumped back into his seat and started his count all over again.
As he swiped each bill through his fingers, his eyes would occasionally glance up at the rear view mirror where he’d get a quick peek at you two. He always thought you had a pretty face, but your body was something else. He was mesmerized by the sight of your soft breasts bouncing up and down as San worked you open from behind. His gaze lingered down on to your wet cunt. He couldn’t understand how something so small and delicate could take something so big and ugly like San’s cock. Maybe it was weird to think this way, but although Wooyoung was smaller, he thought his cock looked a lot prettier than San’s. Shaking his head, he looked back down at the cash and continued his count.
“Fuck, Sannie, f-feels so good! Gonna cum!” You cried. Your moans grew loud and raspy, and Wooyoung had no choice but to look back up at the rear view mirror. Your sounds alone made his pants tighter but seeing you rub and tug your clit while San continued fucking you made a wet spot form in his boxers. Spreading his legs, Wooyoung couldn’t help but palm over his erection while watching you in the mirror. He thought you were so tight and that you took him so well, and all he wanted to do now was cum at the same time as you.
“Pretty baby gonna cum for me? Yeah? Gonna cum all over my cock?” San grunted into your ear. His hands slid up to your breasts, kneading them as continued thrusting. You were so wet now that Wooyoung could hear your squelches from up front, and god did it almost destroy him. He stuffed his hand into his pants, rubbed his thumb over his slit, and licked his lips as he watched you turn into more of a hot mess over San’s stiff cock. He noticed your eyes getting droopy and your breathing getting shakier.
“Go on baby, cum for me,” Wooyoung whispered to himself. “Be a good girl and cum.”
Right on demand, your thighs squeezed together as a rush of warmth filled up your stomach. Your whole body crunched over as you came until finally your body gave up and you fell back into San’s chest. Your legs opened up again, giving Wooyung a great view of the milky white cum leaking out of your pussy.
“Yes, yes, yes” Wooyoung mumbled as he stroke himself. “Good girl,” he breathed as his hips jolted up. Your leaky cunt was the last push he needed to cum, forcing him to press his eyes shut and use his free hand to cover his mouth to mask his moans. Once he finished, he carefully peeled his eyes back open and hesitantly looked up at the same mirror, relief rushing over him when he realized neither of you noticed.
“Good fucking girl” San praised, striking your sensitive cunt with his hand. You yelped at the impact before giving him a giggly kiss.
Up front, Wooyoung cringed seeing you two kiss. He felt good during his orgasm, but now he was annoyed again. Annoyed with the failed exchange, annoyed with the late delivery person, and annoyed with the fact that he has to sit around in his soiled underwear while listening to you two smooch each other’s faces off. He thought it was more insufferable than hearing you two have sex.
“Offer’s still on the table, you know,” San winked teasingly. Wooyoung saw San looking back at him in the rear view mirror, a smug look plastered over his face as you kissed along his neck. Wooyoung’s face wrung up in a scowl once he remembered the gross comment San made to him earlier.
“Fuck off.”
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Hey Jealousy
My submission for International Bob Floyd Fucks Month, everyone say thank you @attapullman 😂
Pairing-Bob Floyd x Reader
Rating-18+ MINORS EFF OFF, this is my first ever smut and it’s a little clunky so y’all be gentle with me 🥹😬
Warnings-language, sexual content (again minors fuck off), drinking, dirty dirty smut.
Summary- After a successful mission the squad joins together for the annual Navy Gala in San Diego, Bob has been hung up on you for months but too afraid to bite the bullet. What happens when someone on the squad decides to push his buttons? Will the green eyed monster rear its ugly head and bring you two together?
As always like, reblog, comment! I crave validation and love the feedback 😂
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He’s nursing his beer across the room at his table with payback and rooster and between the look on his face and the white knuckle grip he has on his bottle anyone can tell he’s coming unraveled at the seams. You walked in earlier tonight arm and arm with his front seater Phoenix, both of you opting out of wearing your uniforms to the Navy Gala and wearing formal gowns instead. Honestly he wished he could say he even remembered what Phoenix was wearing because all he can do is gawk at the floor length red dress you have on, tight in all the right places and catching the eye of just about anyone with a pulse.
Like clockwork Hangman saunters up to the group, quick to open his big mouth to say what’s on everyone’s mind. “Damn baby on board, your girl over there is getting all sorts of attention, you might better make your move before someone else slides in and takes her home.” He wiggles his eyebrows winking in Bob’s direction, knowing he’s gotten under his skin.
“She’s not mine Seresin, we’re just friends which I know you’re well aware.” He snarls, very much out of his character and they all take notice. He doesn’t know how much more he can take of this, currently watching Yale drone at you about something stupid by the bar, he’s running his hand down your arm clearly making you antsy judging by your body language. It seems like every available guy on his team decided to ogle you like you’re just a pretty face; rather than the most perfect woman to walk the earth. Bob’s normally steadfast composure is almost non existent listening to the shit they keep spewing. Sure it’s all mostly above board and you probably wouldn’t bat an eye over it, but selfishly Bob wants to sling his jacket over your shoulders and drag you home so he can keep all the prying eyes from looking at what he wishes was his.
Hangman calls his bluff immediately, knows all too well that sweet little Bob Floyd isn’t as demure as everyone thinks. He’s seen the way he looks at you when no one else is looking, whether you know it or not that man is hook, line, and sinker 100 percent yours.
So Jake decides to poke the bear. It’s too easy really, he knows Bob’s been pining for months (let’s face it the poor boy doesn’t have a poker face) so maybe just a little bit of needling is what the WSO needs to find his backbone.
“Well” he drawls, shoving himself up from the table with a nod in your direction, “You won’t mind if I shoot my shot then. She looks good enough to eat tonight and I for one am starving.” Payback and Rooster both audibly cringe, they know he’s laying it on thick and you’d never give him the time of day, but Bob doesn’t. At least not for sure. In fact he looks rather green around the ears now, slightly panicked that the small chance he had deluded himself into thinking he had is vaporizing the second Hangman saunters over to the open bar. Rooster shoots him a sympathetic glance, poor kid needs to just bite the bullet he thinks but he can’t help but be mildly amused at the shitstorm that Hangman is about to start.
You’re almost relieved to see him honestly, you and Jake have always been good friends, both being from the south and having a deep appreciation for college football. If you have to listen to Yale drone on about his stupid deep sea fishing trip while he tries to cop a feel for much longer you might break one of his fingers. Maybe all of them.
“Hangman!” You usher him over, scooting him between you and Yale’s unwanted touches, all too grateful for the intrusion.
Yale looks over at Jake, annoyed and about to open his mouth but Jake waves him off like a pesky fly and he excuses himself, probably off to find his next victim, knows better than to even attempt an argument with Hangman.
“Oh my God thank you, I thought he’d never leave me alone! I can only be nice for so long and I was just about ready to tell him to fuck off.”
“Manners little lady, for someone who looks like a princess this evening you sure do have a mouth on you,” he throws his head back and laughs at your discomfort, he knows you aren’t at ease in this setting at all, calling the bartender over to get you another jack and coke.
“So tell me Y/N, when are you gonna let baby on board off the hook and tell him you’re ready to go steady with him?”
You sputter out a gasp as you accidentally inhale a little of your drink, quick to clear your throat and throw daggers up at Hangman with your stare.
“First of all, you know I can’t stand it when you make fun of him, second of all how much have you had to drink tonight? I think you might have hit your limit if you think Bob is even remotely interested in me.”
He just pats you on the hand now, almost condescendingly.
“Wanna make a wager on that? Because I guarantee you sugar, Glasses over there is head over boots and I bet I can make him just jealous enough to finally admit that he’s got the hots for you.”
You link your arm in his and pivot him towards the dance floor. “Fine, you’ve got a deal, and when I prove you wrong you have to wear an Alabama jersey at the Hard Deck next weekend and tell everyone Roll Tide!” You erupt into giggles at Jake’s look of disgust, but a deal is a deal and he’s nothing if not a gentleman.
Meanwhile Bob is feeling more and more off kilter, he knows he needs to just get out of his damn head and cross whatever line he’s drawn in the sand that keeps him from telling you how he feels. He’s so deep in his own thoughts that he doesn’t even notice Phoenix plopping down into the vacant seat next to him.
“Uh hello? Earth to Bob?” She waves a hand over his face to snap him out of whatever trance he looks like he’s in.
“What? Huh? Oh I’m sorry Nat, I don’t know what’s gotten into me tonight, I don’t feel like myself at all.” He looks absolutely miserable as he watches Jake escort you to the dance floor encircling you in his arms.
Her face softens as she looks at her WSO, knows exactly what’s got him in such a funk.
“Could it have something to do with the fact that Y/N looks like a million bucks tonight and you are coming out of your skin having to watch every guy in here try to get her to go out with them?”
His eyes go wide at her response and he feels his skin heat up and stomach lurch just thinking about someone else being with you the way he wants.
“I-I don’t have a clue what you mean.”
“I think you do, and if you were honest with yourself you’d just admit it.”
He sighs, running his hand over his face and looking up towards the dance floor, where you and Hangman are still swaying to the music, his hands dangerously low at your waist. Bob has to look away, sickly feeling in his stomach rearing its ugly head again.
Rooster leans in, he spent most of the night trying to stay out of it but it looks like his friend could use the encouragement. Sliding a shot of tequila in front of the WSO he claps him on the shoulder.
“Bob, life is too damn short. You gonna sit here all night and mope or go get your girl?”
Bob tries to anchor himself for a moment, slings the shot back, liquid courage burning through his veins as he pushes back from the table. He’ll be damned if he doesn’t at least try to let you know how he feels, if you shoot him down then that’s that. But he can’t take one more minute watching someone else get all your attention.
“Atta boy Bobby!” Phoenix crows as she and Rooster watch him weave through the crowd to you.
Jake is being very handsy, and while you’d given him permission to play things up for the bit you were losing hope fast that this would actually work. You should have never agreed to this, you knew it wasn’t true that Bob was into you; you’d all but thrown yourself at him more times than you could count and the soft spoken man had just written it off as you being an affectionate friend. Jake’s got his lips pressed right above your ear now, assuring you it won’t be much longer judging by the glare he gotten the last time he glanced at their table. The two of you sway to whatever song the dj is playing, you’re feeling so stupid now for this little stunt, as you open your mouth to tell Jake it’s time to give up the act you feel strong hands plucking you from his arms. You gasp as you are suddenly spun around, face to face with Bob. Jake blends back into the crowd with a chuckle, mission accomplished.
“Ohmygosh, wha- oh Robby hey! What’s going on? You ok?” You’re scanning his features now, he’s causally moved you both to the edge of the dance floor now, still swaying to the song and to anyone else it would look like he seamlessly cut in to dance with his friend, not at all the reality of the situation at hand, far more tense and out of character.
He’s looking down into your face now, something stormy in his features as he pulls you closer to him.
“Y/N, I’m sorry I know that was rude but I just- I couldn’t stand it anymore.”
“Couldn’t stand what Robby? what’s going on? You’re starting to worry me a little.”
He looks so on edge, it hurts your heart to know something’s troubling him so you squeeze his arm that’s around your waist, giving him the encouragement to go on.
“Can-can we go outside and talk? I promise I’m not trying to get out of it I just don’t want to do this here.”
You nod and take his hand, letting him lead you from the ballroom and out into the courtyard of the fancy hotel the gala was being held.
The second you hit the open air his body is pressed to yours, running his hand through your hair at the base of your neck to pull your faces together, rubbing his nose gently against yours.
“I need you to tell me this is all in my head” he gasps, eyes wild, “I would die if I ever made you feel uncomfortable but God- I gotta know if you feel the same way Y/N, I don’t think I can keep going like this anymore. Everyone keeps telling me that you feel the same but I can’t- I can’t…” he shakes his head trying to get his thoughts together, anxiety pooling in his stomach at the thought that this is going wrong.
You suck in a sharp breath, feeling him so close with his hands running over your sides and his lips against yours is like heaven, it makes it downright impossible to conjure up a coherent sentence. So you opt for showing him rather than telling, gripping his bicep with one hand and stroking his jaw with the other, you lean up and press your lips to his, first one, then two soft kisses. He groans into your mouth now, a noise so delicious you need him to do it again immediately.
The damn breaks and it’s like a wildfire now, hands roaming everywhere mouths panting hot open filthy kisses as his tongue slides in to massage yours. The only thought in your head is his name, Robby Robby Robby. Making out like a bunch of teenagers grinding up against each other in the dark, you feel him slide his thigh between your legs into the side slit of your dress, just a taste of the friction you need but not nearly enough. You know you ought to stop, anyone could walk out and catch you but it’s just oh so good. You could slap yourself for taking this long to have him like this, cursing all the nights you went home to your toys thinking of him when you could have been doing this all along.
Reluctantly you pull back and take a deep gasping breath, chests heaving and fighting for air. You grin up at him now, and he flashes you a crooked smile that turns your limbs to jelly.
“If I had known all I had to do was get you a little bit jealous to finally make a move I have to admit I would have done that a hell of a lot sooner.”
He guffaws at that, looks so much more at ease, the sound one of the best things you’ve ever heard. “Darlin’ all it took was you in this dress to turn me into putty in your little hands, I’ve been a downright fool for waiting this long. I’m so stupidly in love with you.”
His words warm you from the inside out, and you press soft kisses to his neck, whispering into his skin-
“I love you so much Robby, always have.”
You two stumble back into the ballroom a little worse for wear and make a beeline for your table so you can grab your stuff. Everyone on the team takes the two of you in, flushed cheeks and mussed up hair, Bob’s got lipstick smeared on his chin near his lips and you don’t feel a bit embarrassed by the shocked looks you are given as you swiftly snatch your purse up and bid everyone goodbye, bubbly giggles erupting from you as Bob swats at your backside trying to get you to hurry up and get to his truck. He’s the only one taking you home tonight and if he has anything to say about it every night for the foreseeable future.
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The line between the two of you is non existent now, you are trying your best to let him be a safe driver but Jesus H Christ you just want him everywhere.
He can tell you are literally buzzing with need, shaky hands pawing at his thigh and abs while leaning across the console to suck a mark next to his Adam’s apple. He’s trying his damndest to not pull over on the side of the highway and take you right here, but he wants this to be perfect. Just as your hand goes to slide between his legs he snatches both wrists up in one of his giant hands. You look at him with shock covering your features, he didn’t even look away from the road as he swatted your hands and placed them in your lap. His voice is deeper than normal, eyes still laser focused on the road in front of him. Man’s a stealth pilot after all.
“Sweetheart I need you to keep those pretty hands to yourself, I’m not fucking you in the front seat of the truck for our first time. We gotta do this right ok sugar? Just be patient a little longer.”
Oh. OH. You can confidently say you’ve never been more turned on in your entire life.
Finally, mercifully after what seems like a million years (it was the longest 5 minutes of your life), you pull up to your little beach condo. Stepping out of the truck on shaky legs into his waiting arms is a feat, you’ve never needed someone so badly in your life. He holds you close, his warmth enveloping you as he kisses the top of your head.
“We don’t have to do this tonight if you don’t want to baby-“ there he is, suddenly your shy unsure boy, no need to second guess himself but always worrying about others.
You wish you could be bothered to be embarrassed for the way you all but launched yourself at him, fingers carding through his hair to grip at the short ends at the base, sliding your tongue into his mouth and begging him to take you to bed.
It was all he needed to flip the switch, ushering you into your house, the moment the door is shut he presses you into the door, nimble fingers working at the zipper on the back of your dress while he presses sloppy kisses to your chest. The dress pools at your feet and he pulls in air through his nose and moans at the realization that underneath your gown you were only wearing what he would consider the smallest piece of fabric known to mankind and calling it underwear. You are convinced the room is spinning, heat rising up your body as you clumsily work in tandem with him to rid him of his own clothes, tossing the jacket of his dress whites on your couch as you begin to move him forward to your bedroom.
He grips the sides of your thighs and tells you to jump into his arms, blindly going down the hall until he stops right at the edge of your bed.
Letting you slide down his body you immediately hit your knees, making quick work of his belt buckle, he looks almost dazed now, leans his hand down to tilt your face to him, deep blue eyes roaming over your exposed skin.
“My sweet girl, look at you. Such a pretty little thing, you gonna let me have your mouth?” He drawls, his accent thicker than normal and you have to squeeze your thighs together just thinking about what’s to come.
You melt into his touch, fingers dancing along the edge of his boxers, and nod your head. You lean in to nuzzle your face into him, hot and heavy against your cheek and revel in the noises he makes above you.
You decide you don’t have it in you to tease him tonight, it’s been such a long time coming and you’d be lying if you haven’t come undone in the quiet of your room thinking about this exact moment. You rake your nails down his abs, make quick work to rid him of his pants and underwear, realizing very quickly that the locker room talk the boys have engaged in isn’t just talk. He’s definitely got plenty to brag about, but you had always thought the guys were just teasing him when they said he was huge.
You wrap your fingers around him now, looking back up at him as you lean in to swirl your tongue over his tip. Sliding his hand up into your hair he winds it around his hand a little and pulls you forward, you immediately open your mouth fully to take more of him, tongue flattening and letting him take what he wants from you. You know he’d never hurt you, that’s the thing about your line of work, you have to have complete trust in each other to keep your team safe. This though, letting him have complete control and telling him you love him through your actions; it’s like a promise.
He continues shallowly thrusting into your mouth, grunting filthy praises, telling you how beautiful you are, how good you are to him. He pulls back just when it becomes too much and kneels to scoop you up in his arms, laying you gently on the bed just taking you in. He still can’t quite believe that this is really happening, convinced he’ll wake up any second now. You make grabby hands at him now and he huffs out a laugh, crawling up the bed into your arms as you pull him on top of you.
You don’t think you’ve ever wanted someone this much, sex with other partners has almost always been about the other person, usually with you faking it and taking care of yourself later. Having him this way is like a drug, you know all the fantasies you’ve concocted have nothing on just how good he feels. You try to push yourself into him, let him know you want him to take you but he stills your movements. You let out a whine, looking up at him with pouty lips and he kisses it away with a smile. “I don’t know how you’ve been doing this in the past but baby I’ve got my own set of rules here. Now I’ll give you what you want, I promise but you gotta let me get you ready first. You gotta let me taste ya and cum for me and then you can have my cock, can you be a good girl and do that for me?” You blink at him, jaw going slack, completely blown away. You’re pretty sure you are wetter than the pacific and he hasn’t even really touched you yet. This man is going to be the death of you for sure.
You grasp his face and moan into his mouth as you kiss him deeply, nipping at his lower lip to elicit more noises from him. Pulling you back a little he rubs his nose with yours and gives you a quick wink before making his descent down your body, pink tongue pokes out to lave at your sternum while he massages your breasts in his hands. “You are so perfect everywhere baby but God these tits…I could stay right here all day if you’d let me.” He pulls a nipple between his teeth and you nearly jolt off the bed, grinding yourself down onto his thigh as he continues his torture. “Robby” you gasp, fighting for air and purchase on the bed, tangling your fingers in the sheets as you continue to buck up onto his leg. He pulls back and quirks an eyebrow at you, clearly amused at just how needy you’ve become for him already. “What is it baby girl? Use your words, tell me what you want.”
“I need- I need your mouth on me, please I want it so bad Robby” you babble at him, you can’t even bother to be ashamed at how ridiculous you probably sound, somewhere deep in your mind you know he’s probably eating it up, smug bastard.
He shushes you and runs his hands over your breasts and stomach, slides down to the apex of your thighs and spreads them wide. “I’ve got you sugar, I’ve got ya.” And finally, blessedly he dives in, licking a long stripe from your entrance to your throbbing clit, swirling his tongue around it and sucking harshly. You arch yourself up into his face, gasping roughly as you reach down to grip his hair, attempting to close your legs around him but he holds you down, eating at you like it’s his last meal.
Moans vibrating directly into your pussy and you aren’t sure if he’s talking to you or to it, but Jesus if you’d known he could talk dirty and eat pussy like this you might not have waited so long to make him yours. He’s sliding his ring and middle finger inside of you now, and oh if this is how good it feels from his fingers you might die when you finally get him inside you. The noises bouncing off your bedroom walls are obscene, moans coming from you both and the lewd wet smacks from his lips and tongue.
“Doin’ so good for me love, taste so damn sweet” he rasps and begins to crook his fingers into that place you can never seem to quite reach yourself and suddenly you’re right there, orgasm takes you before you can even warn him, thrashing your head back and forth as you keen high in your throat and you swear you nearly black out from the euphoria. He continues fucking you with his fingers through your high, massaging your calf with his other hand. You finally come down from the haze and lean up on your elbows, grabbing his shoulders to pull him up and kiss him.
You look at him through your lashes, admiring how pretty he is. He seems to feel your gaze, cheeks and ears turning pink and you can’t help how your heart feels like it might burst at how happy you are. You lay like that for a few minutes, just kissing and whispering sweet nothings to each other but you can tell Bob is more than ready for you now, pressed up against your thigh hot and heavy. You press a few kisses to the freckles scattering his cheeks before tugging his earlobe between your teeth. “I was a good girl for you Robby, want you to fuck me now baby. Need you so badly, make me yours my love”
And you know exactly what you’re doing to him, he grips your hip tightly and you see the cracks in his composure, taking your chin between his thumb and index finger he licks into your mouth turning you into a moaning mess all over again. You reach between your bodies to stroke him and he pulls back from your lips leaving you a whining mess.
“Ok, ok baby girl I know it, I’m gonna give it to you.” You give a sigh of relief reaching to pull a condom out of your nightstand, ripping the package open and rolling it down his length.
He hovers over you now, lips ghosting over yours as he slowly eases himself into your heat. You gasp as he enters you, body trembling at the sensation and grip his biceps, nails digging in sure to leave a bruise tomorrow but neither of you can be bothered to care. The stretch is so good, so so good and you feel like you might come apart again just from this. A string of curses fall from his lips and he begins to grind slowly into you, pubic bone grazing your clit with each thrust of his hips into yours.
“Oh Robby, oh baby I love you s’good baby so good, just like that” you moan into his neck and he knows you’re getting close again already, so turned on for him that you know he’s already ruined you for anyone else.
“So pretty sugar, look at you taking me so well, God I just want you like this all the time, been dreaming of fucking you like this for so long, better than I ever imagined, gonna give you everything baby God I fucking love you” He’s pretty sure he’s never been this hard in his life, as ruined as you think you are he may just be worse.
You preen under his praise, clearly didn’t realize until just now how much it turned you on but the way you're clenching around him gives you away.
“You like when I tell you how good you are don’t you baby? Can feel how much you like it sweet girl, think you can give me another one darlin’? Want to see you make a mess all over my cock, come on beautiful girl you can do it” he coos at you as he reaches down to rub his thumb over your swollen bud, one, two, three swipes and you’re crying out, clamping down on him and cumming harder than you have in your entire life. He’s fucking you through it, letting you buck up into him and take what you need until you fall back weakly against the pillows, sucking in air in deep gulps as you try to come down. He doesn’t let you though, begins fucking you in earnest now, hips slapping into the back of your thighs as he presses you down into the mattress, pulls your feet up over his shoulders and slams into you relentlessly. All you can do is just take it now, pleasure rolling off of you in waves as you cry out and you know you’re already close again.
“You got one more in you angel? Want ya to come with me this time ok? You’re so fucking good baby so good for me, pussy is so perfect like it was made to take me” he’s not even sure what he’s saying anymore just completely lost in how good it feels and how much he needs you to cum with him.
“M’ close baby, want us to go together too please please please, oh oh God!” you call out, and you know he’s on the edge too, once again gliding your slick over your clit to get you there and he’s leaning in to press his mouth to yours as you both come together, a mess of teeth and tongue clashing and it’s everything, deep guttural moans pouring from his mouth the sweetest noises you’ve ever heard. He runs his hands through your hair and presses kisses to your sweaty forehead, slowly pulling out of you to toss the condom and you whine at the loss of him.
“I’m not going anywhere baby, just give me a second so I can clean you up and I’ll be right back.”
You lay there dazed, somewhere between asleep and alert and he’s back, wiping you down gently and crawling back into bed to hold you.
Just as you both begin to doze off you press a kiss to his arm, whispering I love yous as you succumb to sleep. He’s not typically a jealous man but if the green eyed monster got you in his arms and in his bed maybe being a little jealous from time to time ain’t so bad.
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Tagging-
@attapullman
@mamachasesmayhem
@bobgasm
@roosterforme
@purelyfiction
@pinkdaisies1106
#top gun maverick#bob floyd#top gun bob#robert bob floyd x reader#international bob floyd fucks month#bob floyd fan fic#bob floyd smut#bob floyd x reader#top gun maverick fanfiction
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cunt. starring baji, chifuyu
content warning: Aye this shit is evil. FTM misgendering- reader ‘passes’ but Baji is very diminutive of/disrespectful of his identity in this. Chifuyu is his accomplice. They are not good in this lol. Rape rationalizations, Dacryphilia (Chifuyu). Sadism (Baji). Hard non/con, reader uses he/him pronouns but Baji will refer to him as a female. degradation/humilation. Implied bajitora. Lots of cursing (fucks and shit, mostly). Wishing for death (brief ment).
Reader is referred to as: Man, Slut, Whore, Girl. Bitch. Boy.
Readers genitals referred to as: cunt/pussy, boypussy (1), clit/clitty. (small adjective) penis. Dick. Cock.
“What a fucking cunt.” Yeah. You could say the same thing.
He pinches your clit cause you got too much attitude on your face. Brows too furrowed, lip too thick. Makes you look like a man. “I am a grown fucking man!” Yeah, you say that, but this pussy ‘tween your legs got Baji thinking a little different.
It’s juicy and fat. Clit a mimicry of the soft thing dangling between his legs. It looks cute in the light when your legs are open long enough.
Flicks your little clitty and you squirm and writhe and he has to hold you down by your neck cause you won’t stop fighting him. That’s okay, though. He hasn’t gotten any in a while, can’t promise he won’t cum quick.
“You wanna run around with gangs with this shit between your legs? Look! Pussy so fat it fucking dangles, y’all.” He announces to the crowd of one, your scowl deepening even as the heat seeks to melt your facade. He grips your calf and lifts your leg too wide, your thigh tensing and jerking painfully.
“Pussy like that… just begging to get fucked.” You mourn the loss of your dignity, your hands leaving the iron cable at your throat and darting to your shirt, fingers plucking at the dangling end to drag it over your delicates. Baji doesn’t have enough hands to stop you, but he doesn’t seem to care, looking towards his blonde friend.
“Ever seen boypussy, ‘Fuyu?” Chifuyu still hasn’t entirely grasped what’s happening.
You’re from somewhere else. Different gang, probably. But you’re dressed down right now, sweatpants and hanes shirt and jacket, windbreaker. Baji mentioned a favor he had to cash in on. There was an apartment, polite old lady in the lobby, slow elevator. Hallways with The Shining carpet, this potent bad feeling,
Now you, bent in half on your own bed. Granted Baji’s doing most of the work, but it makes Chifuyu uncomfortable watching you contort that way. You’re all lines and edge and box and square. You got a little plush though; nice thighs, cute ass, tummy …
He’s gotten ahead of himself.
“Ah—No, Baji-san.” He comes closer at the curl of Baji’s finger. “Well get the fuck over here, then. Hold hi— ” Baji’s lip raises like he’s all boxer and bully, like he’s got another fucking stupid idea,
“Come hold her still, dumbass.” You buck at the accusation, suddenly so lively you actually clip his hip. Dumb bitch. His hand leaves from ‘round your neck and you take a deep breath, palms darting to cradle a crushed larynx.
He jams a finger up your pussy and you scream.
Maybe this shit is The Shining and you’re Missus Duval, because Johnny is here.
Fuyu is trying to kick off his shoes. How polite of him, you don’t think, as he clambers on the bed - grabbing your hands and forcing them back into fluff and blankets. Looks nervous; but not as much as you are. You’re trembling, trying so fucking hard not to cry, and it makes Baji hard like fuck all else. He doesn’t afford himself a moment to contemplate the nuances of who you are—or to him, what. Finger’s going in and out, but it’s not like you make it easy. It’s like fingering a crack in concrete.
Any hole’s a goal, and hole-y fortune smiles upon him now, he thinks. He’s hit the fucking jackpot.
And you’re not ugly or anything. Just too boy. If you were in Toman he thinks he’d put in a special uniform request with Mitsuya. Any whore shouldn’t wear a skirt past ‘er thigh - easy access is important.
But you’d probably look like you’re playing dress-up. He’s got a slimmer wasteline than you, and he’s a man.
You’d make a really ugly girl. Need a bag over to head to fuck you— maybe shave off the happy trail, get your skin all nice, smooth. “Um, Baji?” Baji starts going for his belt. “Yeah? Fuck you want? Wanna use ‘er mouth? Go on, I don’t give a fuck,” Chifuyu blushes piggy-pink, then says, “Nah, It’s not that boss… Ah, you sure ‘Tora won’t get mad at you?” Baji sucks his teeth at the mention of that cock hungry twink. “Who givesa fuck? If rabbit wants the carrot, he shouldn’t be surprised he gotta share it.” Kinda likes when that slut gets a little loose anyway, Baji can throw his weight around, bust his lip and Tora’ll love it. Probably ask him to do it again. Lick the blood off his knuckles and then give him head, get him used to the smell of your cunt on his balls.
Baji’s tugging on his belt like some dickless virgin, can’t slide the leather out of place fast enough—
You’re still kicking, even if he’s got your leg tucked under his arm. Still think you got a chance, but you’re wasting all your damn breath on struggling, you don’t notice he’s got his cock out until he’s raising your hips to his height.
“F-fuck off!” The dog makes a face, showing you his top teeth all like “F-Fuck off!”, mocking you and shit. You’re not sorry you got caught selling on his block, but he’s making you a lot sorry he didn’t bash your brains in when he found you. You’d prefer the bloody nose, broken ribs, black eyes, punctured lung.
Anything but this, man, fuck—
“Dude.” “Dude.” “Listen to me! Fuck—stop! I’m, I’m sorry alright? Just d..don’t— ” Whine whine whine whine whine. Yap yap yap. Blubber lips; so scared shitless you can’t even keep your drool in your maw. He spits into your babbling mouth, and you choke on it. Baji gets a good grip on your cheek and shoves your face down into the bed, lines himself up. “Shut up bitch. Just take it.”
Pushes the tip in just a little. Just get a feel for it. “Oh fuuuuuuuuuuuck. Oh fuck yes. Damn bitch, you’re ti-ight, ah,” he moans, nails in your hips to keep you still. You buck like a filly with no home training, and he’s fixing to break you in, bareback.
It doesn’t feel good dry. He’s too big, the fucking bulldog, and you’re not high enough or drunk enough or fucked up enough to get your pussy wet. Or maybe your pipes are broken. That shit you take to make your jaw cut like that, flatten out your hips— that’d do the trick. Might not be an all bad thing though, he could probably cum in you as much as he wants.
“Sure you don’t want her mouth—fuck—‘Fuyu?” He pushes in a few more inches with a little wiggle of his hips. It burns. “Tight, whore’s tight.” Swallows, “I’m gonna break you in half if you don’t loosen up, bitch, c’mon,” Your back arches and your hands thrash in Chifuyu’s grip and you’re barking and fighting, and Chifuyu’s got this look on his face. Like he doesn’t know if he wants Yakisoba or Top Ramen. Baji doesn’t know what the fuck there is to think about. He’s muttering shit to himself, spine firepole straight and cheeks blushed beetroot red. “I don’t know Baji, I don’t think I can just… y’know?” You interrupt with a groan. He looks down at your heated face, tears skimming your cheeks. He doesn’t like how it turns him on.
Chifuyu shrinks away from that feeling physically, grip loosening a little on your wrists, and you take the opportunity to pull. Fuyu near hops out of his skin to keep you in place as your struggle revives itself.
“Nooo no no, fuuuck that! I’ll bite your dick off, I’ll fucking—ugh!” The dark hared demon maintains the pressure on your hips. “What you’re gonna do, is back up on my dick. Quick and easy, slut. C’mon.”
Baji wants you down to his balls. He’s only half-in and you hate it. Loathe it. Despise it. He’s humping with puppy precision and has wandering hands, grabs up on your ass, tits—lack thereof, only settling at the back of your knees to tug you forward. He brings his head up to meet his friend’s ambivalence, talking as if you’re not even there. “Fine. Fuck the slut or don’t ‘Fuyu, don’t matter to me. Better I get some than you, anyway.”
God you hate this guy's fucking guts. He better paralyze you after this shit, cause as long as you’re breathing, he’s destined to become dust, you will crush him and kill him and fuck him,
Fuck him,
ah. Your chest feels tight. All the scared that was chased off by your fight and flight surges back into you all at once, potent and suffocating. “S..stop! Please, just stop..” You sob, and Baji levels an unimpressed expression at you. “What happened to all that fight you cunt?” He taunts, jostling you. “You giving up on me now?” You respond with tears. Baji seems unmoved. Chifuyu’s heart aches bittersweetly, and his hard cock throbs in anticipation, watching the water delicately arc down the sides of your face, over your cheeks.
Chifuyu doesn’t hold you any more cause you just wanna hold yourself now. Hold yourself and cry, cry, cry. It’s freaking him out a little, watching a man be pushed to such distress, though of course he’s having more… conflicted feelings about it. If you get any louder, someone might catch you. With your pants down. Bent over. Cock five inches dick in your pussy. Imagine if your whole building knew you had one. You don’t know what they’d think - couldn’t fathom it, probably, and who knows; they might want a piece too!
Look at how much you hate this right now. You couldn’t handle the embarrassment. He won’t do that to you - won’t let that happen. You’ve already done enough, now it’s his turn. His hands move to the front of his jeans. “Ah, Baji… slow down.”
The sound of pants unbuckling follows, denim sliding down thighs. A slow, incredulous laugh. “That’s what I’m talking about! Hold on Chifuyu… C’mon bitch. Move.”
Baji’s gets you into a better position, buddy ‘Fuyu lifting your chin and looking at the lost life from your face. Expression dazed? Stony even? Irrelevant, ‘cuz it scrunches up funny when he puts his tip in your mouth.
You groan in what sounds like pain as he slides into your throat, but it’s gotten much harder to hear you now. You’ve gone gentle, twitching and hiccuping and crying, but no kicking, no punching. Baji’s a little sad to see the grit go.
You’re still so tight - and it’s starting to hurt instead of feel good. He grits his teeth, reaches his thumb swipes daftly at your little soldier. God, he’s never seen anything like it. Your hood is huge! Your little clit really does look like pinky-sized penis. Kinda glorious, in a way- it wobbles and twitches when he pokes it and it makes you writhe- if you weren’t an in incompetent slut you might’ve been able to get some place with that kind of ambition. He strokes you slow, and Chifuyu starts pumping in and out of your mouth.
Drags his dick along your tongue and it feels like sandpaper. Your jaw opens up a little more for him, and inch by inch you take it, til his balls are resting against your nose bridge all nice like.
“Oh look at that, girlie’s getting wet…” Baji rubs your slick over his finger, pinkish pomade stretching a slim film over the tip of it. “Maybe that dick is doing something for her, Chifuyu. C’mon, don’t be afraid to fuck the slut now,” Baji slurs, getting comfortable with Chifuyu’s rhythm.
In and out. In, and out.
It’s agony. They seesaw with the coordination of blind mice, Chifuyu resting his cock in the snugness of your throat, not as eager to move as Baji - who’s doubled his ministrations on your dick, trying to get you to open up more for him. Antagonism and hatred bubbles to the surface mostly, but your cock has started feeling a little more sensitive since Dickhead’s learned to stroke it properly. Stuck his fingers in his mouth for lube and is using his whole wrist to work you, two fingers diligently stroking either side of your dick. You groan and Chifuyu feels it, full body tremble as he grabs for your chin, determined to stay in your throat. “Keep- keep doing that, feels nice… ah,” The last thing you give a shit is making sure he’s having a good time, but it’s not like you can help it.
“Yeah… That’s it. Open up for me, bitch. Gonna fuck your cervix - make you suck my dick clean after you make me cum. You’d love that, wouldn’t you, bitch?”
You hope you choke on it.
⠀⠀ ⠀⠀ ⠀⠀ ⠀⠀ ⠀ ⠀⠀ ⠀⠀TOKREV/BANNER ART by @/KenWakui
all content written by me @ciematis, is owned by me, and you are not allowed to repost or translate my works. don't put my shit into ai generators, don't steal my shit and put it on wattpad. thank you.
#baji x reader#chifuyu x reader#baji keisuke x reader#chifuyu matsuno x reader#chifuyu x male!reader#baji x male!reader#trans male reader#tokyo revengers#tokyo revengers x reader#baji#chifuyu#baji keisuke#chifuyu mitsuno#baji keisuke smut#matsuno chifuyu#keisuke baji#tokrev x reader#tokyo revengers smut#baji x reader x chifuyu#male!reader#male reader#tokrev#tokyo revengers baji#tokyo revengers chifuyu#tr chifuyu#tr baji#🪻┆all eyes on me.
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hey i wrote smut!! baby's first lemon!! 18+ PLEASE
Underfell Sans x Reader smut, 7.8k
BLURB: "ya know i don' dance, doll," he grumbles to the coffee table.
"Awwwww, c'monnnn," you sit next to him, sliding an arm around his slouched shoulders, "I had a really bad day," you pout at him, "And all I wanna do is get blasted and dance with my best friend."
A bony hand presses on your face, pushing you away.
"knock it off," he growls, "i got bedda' shit to do than make a damn fool'a myself for ya."
Your puppy eyes increase.
"But Reddd," you simper, folding your hand around his, interlacing your fingers. His browbone is furrowed in an ugly scowl, but he's looking quite flushed. You've almost got him.
"fuckin- i said i don' wanna dance." he huffs.
You tug on his hand, dragging his gaze back to you. Your trembling lip draws his eyelights down.
reader's reviews:
"Very good, honestly. There’s a lot of thought put into the backstory and all that. It’s a pretty fun smut fic, has good buildup" - my fiancée who beta'd for me
"LETS GOOOOOO!!!! This is so AMAZING AHHHHH. The way you write interactions is so goood and the fuckin phone call scene agagshdjdksks so hot thank you!!!!" - my first commenter
#underfell sans x reader#sans x reader#sans x y/n#sans x you#red x reader#fell sans x reader#underfell sans#lemon#undertail#i don't fucking know how to tag fic posts#i speak#mine#my fics
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okay, while janet visits a psychic clearly wins the day i do also have a home alone!tim idea that i'm going to share
so, it is christmas with the drakes. tim is our precocious 7-8 year old boy (he needs to be this age because he has not yet made the connection of batman and robin = bruce and dick AND so dick is still robin)
jack has decided that he's going to make amends with (show off to) his estranged relatives by planning a big old drake bash where they will christmas in paris (and jack can smugly brag about how successful his company is by paying for everything)
jack, however, doesn't really like his relatives so he delegates a lot of the planning and logistics and management of this trip to his beleaguered wife janet (who also doesn't like jack's relatives, thinks this trip is stupid and a bad idea, wanted to just have a quiet christmas and spend time with their son over his break, but the couples counselor they've been seeing has been suggesting that jack and janet try to compromise more and be more open to things that are clearly important to the other one, so here they are) who begrudgingly takes over the management of this trip because someone has to and it's clearly not going to be jack (even though it's his gd family)
so all janet asks is that jack please, please, please wrangle tim while she's doing everything else
so it's the day before christmas and we have the extended drakes over at jack and janet's townhouse in the suburbs (listen you can't convince me that the drakes didn't have a townhouse in the suburbs especially because tim refers to the robinson park condo as the place they would stay when they decided to be downtown. they very much strike me to have a suburb home and a couple of city homes)
and tim is kind of excited about this, but he is also a bit sour and cross that everytime he tries to get his mom's attention she's just frazzled and sorry because her attention keeps getting diverted by jack's aunt or uncle or cousin or cousin's kid (he is only 7-8 after all!)
so tim stands at the top of the stairway and angrily says he's going to his room. unfortunately, no one hears him. especially not his dad, whose only job it is to keep track of tim, because uncle rich asked about whiskey and jack has an excellent one in his study for showing off occasions such as this
the limos come to take them to the airport and janet, who is very frazzled making sure that everyone's suitcases get put in the cars, doesn't do a final headcount as she hurries everyone along because otherwise they're going to be late
and jack, talking to uncle rich about cigars, gets in the second car sans tim. he was just a little distracted, okay?
the extended drakes make it to the airport just in time and onto their flight. since they're all spread apart, since this is a christmas flight, nobody has noticed they forgot tim
"you know," jack says to rich, "i wanted to take the private jet, but we didn't want to leave you all to commercial by yourself while we lived it up in comfort"
tim comes out of his room to realize they forgot him. oh no! he's a little sad, but also. freedom to do whatever he wants? nice. he's going to live it up, and when he's parents realize what they did they'll be sorry!
meanwhile, two bumbling robbers are sneaking around bristol looking for houses to rob.
which catches tim's attention. this is serious business. he tries to call the cops about it, but they were like "what are you, 6? is this a prank call?" so he has to take matters into his own hand and protect the townhouse.
which means it's time for operation: what would batman and robin do? so tim sets up a bunch of traps.
in paris, the drakes arrive and finally realize tim is gone.
janet loses her shit. at jack. he had one gd job, after all
it's probably good that tim isn't there for that fight. it's ugly.
so janet has to immediately fly back to gotham because they forgot her baby boy and he's all alone there! unfortunately, there's one thing that money can't buy, and that's a last minute plane ticket on christmas.
....they probably should have taken the jet.
all she can manage to get after bargaining and begging all the people in the airport is a ticket to wichita, kansas. which is not ideal, by any means, but at least it's the country she needs to get to.
meanwhile, batman and robin have been made aware of some christmas burglars. they talk to commissioner gordon, who mentions a weird prank call they got from a kid
so they go to check it out and dick robin gets caught up in the glue trap that tim drake set up to catch bad guys. dick robin gets very affronted over this.
tim is mortified that he caught robin in his glue trap!! he'll never be best friends with robin now :(
batman tells robin to stay with the kid while he stakes out the perimeter
and the kid has a flying grayson poster in his room which is even more mortifying. dick has to keep a straight face as tim asks if he had every heard of them before, they're amazing, especially that dick grayson. batman can't come back soon enough.
batman does, and does ask why tim is alone.
"my parents forgot me :(" tim says "i know they didn't mean to. i miss them". and now dick does feel bad for the fanboy.
anyways, batman and robin catch the robbers and everything is so cool. tim asks for their autographs. he's never been so sad but so happy before in his life. (silver linings, you know?)
meanwhile, janet is in kansas. desperately trying to make her way back to gotham. she's almost in tears. there's no tickets to be found and she needs to be home, like, 8 hours ago. she almost went on a road trip with a polka band in her desperation. she's sitting outside a terminal, face buried in her hands. a kindly lady and man comes up to her and asks her what's wrong. she bursts into tears as she tells the woman the whole story and how she has to make it back to her son.
the kindly lady and man look at each other and silently agree. christmas is about helping each other out. "we don't have tickets to gotham," the woman says. "but we can give you our ticket to metropolis" they were going to visit their son. after all. but he would understand. and he has other ways of seeing them for the holidays that don't rely on planes.
janet is eternally grateful. she doesn't know how she can evey repay them.
it's christmas day and tim is sad. he had a fun adventure without his parents, but he really misses his mom. he goes to sit on a park bench and mope.
a man comes up to him. it's bruce, in disguise. they talk for a bit and tim cries about how all he wants for christmas is his mom.
"well," bruce is disguse says, "keep your chin up and maybe your wish will come true." he did, after all, hear from superman, who heard from his parents, about a woman desperate to get home to her son.
tim thanks him and goes home. he sits in the living room sad, when he hears a car pull up. it's his mom!!! merry christmas indeed. they hug. tim is so happy.
and then the rest of the extended drakes pull up. uncle rich is well and deep in his drinks and is laughing so hard.
jack called and yelled at their assistant to get the drake private jet to paris asap so they could all return home, which was actually a good idea. jack does feel very ashamed since he was the one who was supposed to be keeping track of tim after all. he'll take his son to a monster truck show to make it up to him.
all's well that ends well. batman and robin watch the happy family reunion, pleased at the outcome.
and dick never forgets the glue trap and is eternally trying to catch tim in one for tim's entire robin career.
#tim drake#janet drake#please remember that home alone is about a mother desperately trying to get home to her son <3 lol
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People find Alastor sexy because he’s a generic ass tumblr sexyman bait which is the only “sexy” male character design that Vivziepop can do
That makes it even worse, maybe it is a me because I have never understood Tumblr sexy man culture, I’m more into pretty boys/bishounen designs and Idgf about the chosen tumblr sexy ones honestly! at this point I don’t even know if it’s a joke or not, like do people really find Sans Undertale attractive? I guess that one is a joke right? It’s a joke… right?
Anyways, tumblr sexy man category aside, Alastor isn’t attractive on his own. As you said all of Medrano's "sexy" male designs pretty much look the same and all of them are ugly and over-designer imo, and Alastor is probably one of the worst ones. He looks like an used tampon (long, thin and red), I refuse to believe this guy should wet my panties.
Personality also has a lot to do when I find a character good looking or not, if their personality is horrid I probably won’t like them as much so it doesn’t help that most of HB/HH characters are terrible people, and surprise suprise he is a serial murder and a cannibal? Yeah NO THANKS, get this fucko away from me, I can enjoy a good villain but that doesn't mean I have to get horny over them.
Coming back to the deer thing, I’m sorry but the only deer trait here is the antlers and he doesn't even have them most of the time, also he is not menacing at all, he looks like a crepypasta deviantart oc
Deer are kinda metal, they can be really creepy and you can make them pretty intimidating:
This dude from Adventure Time is a brown blorb and he still makes me more uncomfortable than Alasstor
The Nowhere King FUCKS
Those deer from this comic are super rad, (one of my favourite comics!)
As someone who draws animals in a daily basis it baffles me how none of Vivz's "animal" characters look like the animal they are representing.
In a summary, I hate Alasstor (maybe not as much as Stolass) I bet he's gonna be the least interesting little shit in the whole series.
#this is what im doing for Christmas#complain about a tumblr sexy man#I have friends I swear#vivziepop critical#helluva boss critical#hazbin hotel critical#alastor critical#negative#asks
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* don't look now, but i lost my shoe.
(Undertale Sans x Reader)
Chapter One: * what's with these homies, dissin' my girl?
[Index | Next]
Notice:
(This story is nearly 5 years old, and though it doesn't show my best work, I decided to post it, just because I stopped it at chapter 18, when there were only 2 more chapters left to finish it. So... I'm gonna give it another shot – making minor edits to make the plot less dramatic and angsty, lol.)
(***Also, since Tumblr has a more limited format: italic texts are from you, the reader, and bold texts are from others.)
• • • • •
You've changed.
The best thing your boss did was to give you that warning.
You shouldn't keep working for the law if you're just gonna be a traitor.
How am I a traitor?
You work 9 to 5, sometimes 8 to 6, for the benefit of monsters.
Now, all of a sudden, our sex life goes down the drain.
I haven't slept with you since you got that promotion, and that was two whole months ago.
I'm supposed to be your husband, but you've left me in the dry.
I'm tired.
And I refuse to sleep with someone who won't support me in my new job.
Or should I remind you said I wasn't a real detective?
That my degree's 'worth shit', simply because of the field I'm working in these days?
The rest is an ongoing, fruitless conversation you can't bother yourself with.
Through reading those texts for what has to be the twentieth time today, you sigh, hiccup, and close your eyes tight, lifting your face slightly to avoid letting tears fall.
Barely two hours are left until he comes home to drop off your child, and the mere thought that you have to sleep with him five hours after that makes your stomach twist and churn. You don't want to imagine him naked: panting, heavy, and on top of you again, doing whatever he pleases with little regards to your own limits. Nausea takes over – violent, making you open your eyes and suppress a gag.
You really, really don't want anything to do with him anymore.
Yet, he insists you should remain married until your child reaches their eighteenth birthday.
“At least wait until they're grown up,” he said. “Cuz what's six more years? Be honest with me.” Then, he chuckled. “As ugly as you frown when you see me, I doubt you hate me that much.”
That had been a year ago.
Would you really have to wait five more years until your freedom?
The thought sends chills down your spine.
While he was a good father, that adjective didn't really fit next to husband.
At the beginning of your marriage, yes – he was the best spouse you could ask for.
Now?
You'd rather eat drywall than have to spend a single second near him – without your child around, of course.
With your newest agreement, it felt more as if your husband were a client, his payment being not making your life hell, and your service what he claimed was something a wife should be willing to give twenty-four seven.
You shake your head and search for a distraction amongst the people surrounding the bar, aware you can only end up worse if you continue to dwell on the subject. The air presses down on you hot and heavy, a feeling that only increases the more time you stay seated without doing anything for your growing aches. Your sole companion is your mind when you realize you're too overcome with emotions to talk to someone without scaring them off. Chatter drowns out coherent thinking and sensory overload begins to show by how difficult breathing becomes. Seeking an escape route, you hold the bartender back with a raised hand and an 'excuse me'. Then, you ask him for some bottled water – the only kind he could touch willingly. Small embers flutter around the air as he turns around, leaving you alone with burning cheeks and a pounding headache.
Groaning, you pinch the bridge of your nose and blink through your blurry vision. Then, you adjust your glasses – despite knowing the excess shots have pretty much screwed you over already. The hour marked on your phone surfaces a sigh. How fast time seems to be going makes you notice you currently only have around an hour left before your husband arrives with your child. They would be staying with you while he went off to work, and the least you wanted was to look washed up for his arrival.
"need somethin' else, pal?"
You jolt at the new voice, deep and hearty.
Reluctantly, you cast your gaze up to see a skeleton monster standing behind the counter, now glossy with polish. His face is tough to make out with the blurriness, yet you can tell he's looking at you. From the way he stands behind the counter and the stuffy look his suit gives off with its pristine and exaggerated formality, you figure he's a new employee. His newbie appearance doesn't erase the warm and welcoming aura most bartenders appear to carry by default, however. Instead, it makes his smile and words more genuine in his approach.
It takes you a while to respond aside from shaking your head – mind hazy and disoriented. You thank him and sweep the water bottle off the counter, then turn the lid open, breathe in deep, and take a series of long, greedy gulps. Finally, you set it back down, more than half of it already gone.
One more screw up, and you were out of your job at the law department for good.
It doesn't help that you're currently hanging out at a place strictly and utterly forbidden by your boss: a hole-in-the-wall bar and grill establishment open to all, kept family-friendly during the day and becoming more daring during the night. It has been long since you ever drank alcohol of any sort, and it's beginning to show. You can hardly sit without tumbling pitifully to the side.
“hey.”
You're snapped back toward reality through the feeling of someone resting their arms over the counter, facing you and waiting for your return.
You frown and look up from the water bottle to see the same skeleton – his previous stuffy appearance appearing more natural now that he's taken off his tie and left two of the shirt's buttons unfastened.
"i’m no expert on humans, but you look like you could use someone to talk to."
You feel hazy again.
And whether due to the drinks or the heat, you're not too certain of.
But – right now – you're positive about one thing.
“U- Um…”
As you wipe a tear off your cheek and burst out half a sob and half a laugh, you realize you really could use someone to talk to.
“Thank you.”
#sans x reader#reader insert#undertale fanfiction#ao3 fanfic#weezer reference#female reader#chubby reader#detective reader#long fic#weekly updates#undertale x reader#sans undertale#classic sans#angst and fluff#slow burn
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Ugly Outfits Tournament - Round 2 Side D
Propaganda under the cut.
Sanji:
Sanji has always STRUGGLED to dress himself in One Piece films for a long time but Strong World is the worst offender. Holy shit.
I feel like Zoro pointed out that his casual wear tends to blind anyone who sees it and he should stick to wearing ties, so Sanji said "fuck you" and put on the worst tie he owns just to spite him.
You know, he would actually look good in this. But that TIE.
Usopp:
I THINK there was a plot-relevant reason as to why he dressed like this but even if there was I don’t forgive him. I cant forgive him.
film z really decided to give usopp all the clown looks. seriously, usopp usually has pretty good fits, which makes this stand out as particularly atrocious. just look at it, it's so bad and it's so funny. the clashing neon colors, the blinding green jacket, the polka dot underwear, the fucking? mushroom?? hat?? it makes no sense and it's terrible and i honestly kinda love it.
Its so horrendous. I love that one of the first things you hear in this movie is that Brook is going to handle getting everyone's new clothes/disguises, and then you cut to Usopp wearing this. I need to know how much input Brook had in this outfit vs Usopp. They are both usually so fashionable on their own, but you see their powers combined and we get this mess.
Film Z’s outfits normally shred. Here, Usopp is sporting a highlighter green jacket and a crop top with a bow tie. Normally that’d be fine (sans jacket), but the ensemble was so pricy that Usopp couldn’t afford pants.
I don't even know what is going on here aside from Disaster Trainwreck
#one piece#Usopp#Sanji#black leg sanji#ugly outfits#tournament poll#round 2#side d#honestly I'm kinda sad the most submitted outfits ended up on the same side#no 1 and no 2 will face off next round already if Usopp wins this#(and Sanji wins the other of course)
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What's the general behavior of the other Akatsuki members towards Kushina Jr.? Deidara is obviously some kimd of Ni-san or uncle, but what about the rest?
Deidara is obviously Kushina Jr.'s weird uncle SLASH "fun" parent. Deidara saw them as a fetus in a tube and knew instantly Tori and Itachi were going to make this his problem somehow for the rest of his life. I think Deidara would try VERY hard to avoid having to hold a baby, but the little shit is pretty funny once they start talking. Deidara mostly refuses babysitting gigs* but he'll play with the kid in social situations where there's other adults he can pass the kid onto the second he gets bored or they start getting annoying.
*this does not preclude tori and itachi spontaneously disappearing and leaving kushina jr with deidara because they're both very "ask for forgiveness not permission." but usually when that happens deidara dumps the kid on minakushi and sends itatori a lot of death threats
I think Sasori semi-regularly looks up Tori & Deidara so he's probably the non-Konoha member who's interacted with them the most. He conceptualizes Kushina Jr. as Tori's weird art project. Surprisingly not a danger to Kushina Jr. at all because what is he going to do? Murder Tori's art? Please, he's a civilized man. Also thinks Kushina Jr. is annoying, but like. What did anyone expect from Tori's spawn. At least this one isn't an ugly half-melted Zetsu baby. A "last resort" parent. No one's going to leave the kid with him on purpose, but if something really dire happened, Kushina Jr could probably ask for help. They might not GET help, but they could approach and ask. :P
Kisame is less aggressive about just showing up in Itachi's life but they do keep in touch. He's met the kid a few times. He's... trying real hard to be happy for Itachi, but also he's just confused. One time they were meeting in a teahouse and Itachi was like "sorry, we couldn't find a sitter" and then Kushina Jr. used genjutsu to make the waiter bring them extra dango and Itachi just let them because "it's good practice." Kisame is extremely confused. The kid is.... cute? He guesses????
Konan and Nagato* are both very like: Itachi and Tori did.... what now? Very weird, but neither of them are invested personally enough to get hung up over it. I think both Konan and Nagato like kids in theory because they're innocents who have yet to become tools of the state, but not so much in practice. I don't think they have strong thoughts on the kid or care about Kushina Jr hanging in the background of whatever their parents might be doing in Ame, right up until it becomes apparent Kushina Jr actually has the power to do... stuff. Then it's sort of like: they better stay in line because we're NOT dealing with another Madara. :/
Kakuzu is intrigued by the economic implications of Tori inventing a new type of childbirth but then gets bored with the concept when it turns out it's actually really complicated and you'd have to talk to Tori to do it. Doesn't care about kids and is the one person ItaTori actively keep Kushina Jr. away from because while everyone else losing their temper to Murderous Rage is pretty predictable, Kakuzu is.... less so.
I think Hidan is the one person who might want to scare or even hurt Kushina Jr. just to see what their parents do. You think Hidan wouldn't transfer beef he has with Tori to a literal child? He would! Unfortunately for Hidan, by the time Kushina Jr. is ten, both Tori and Itachi are like "hmm yeah you can handle Uncle Hidan by yourself" and now Hidan has to deal with some annoying brat calling him Uncle??? Also Kushina Jr. is entirely unflappable. God of suffering? Have you met their parents
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Terrible Liar || Joel Miller
Request: Love, love, love your work. I'm dying for some more Joel Miller x Reader hurt/comfort and I came across your JM X Franks Sister Reader... amazing! Could I request something with Tess's sister? I was thinking maybe reader got hurt on a job/raid and hid it until she was home. Joel walk in as he usually does but this time he see's you crying. He's never seen you cry so it freaks him out a bit. The Servopoulos sisters were composed. You can decide the rest! I've always thought that was super interesting but I don't see many people writing Tess's sister.
A/N: Ahh this came out so quickly, had to post it. Really like how this one turned out! Enjoy and let me know what you think!!
Pairing: Joel Miller x Y/N
Word Count: 3.4k+
TW: Talk of death, stabbing, murder, general TLOU warning's
“Oh, fuck.” Groaning you leaned up against the bathroom wall looking towards the ceiling silently trying not to panic. Taking as deep of a breath as you could manage, you lightly grabbed the switch blade lodged deep in your thigh. Pure adrenaline was keeping you awake at this point.
You and your smuggling partner were seemingly in the clear until you were attacked by a few randoms that wanted your goods. You took one down at the expense of your thigh while Rory, your partner, took the other two down sans any injury. He managed to get you home by throwing you on his back. After assuring him you’d be fine he dropped you off at your shared apartment with your sister.
Closing your eyes, you quickly pulled the blade from your thigh. Better to get it out sooner or you’d be risking it getting infected. You couldn’t stop the quiet yelp that left your throat in response to the foreign blade being removed from your body. With your other hand you quickly put pressure down on the open stab wound. At the very least it was just a muscle that was stabbed and nothing major. It would hurt like hell for a while, but you’d heal up just fine. This was just a side effect of the world you lived in.
You really should’ve done this on the couch though. Not having the energy to make it all the way over there you slumped back down against the wall letting your body slide down until your butt hit the floor.
“Fuck me.” You let out a guttural sigh as you beat the floor below you. You’d never admit it out loud, but you hated this fucking world. The only reason you fought so hard to keep going was for Tess. And Joel. It’d break their hearts if they knew how much you truly despised it. The true ugly in humanity in every form coming to light every single day. You missed your simple life pre-outbreak. Maybe it was all fake and ready to crumble but at least there seemed to be a purpose. You hadn’t a clue what your purpose was anymore. And it was miserable. Was this really the best it was going to get?
“Shit fuck.” You threw the switchblade at the opposite wall angry that you let yourself get stabbed. Angry at the world.
You knew Tess and Joel were on another run and would be gone for a while so what was the harm in letting your frustrations out? It’d make it easier to sleep anyway if you tired yourself out. One tear turned to ten turned to too many to count. You let it all fucking out. The silent cries turned to ugly sobs as you finally let yourself feel sorry for once. For the first time in forever you mourned your old life. A life you’d never get to experience again. It’d been nonstop since then. Constant fight or flight.
Your ugly sobs hid the sounds of the locked front door opening and closing. Joel called out for you only to be met by your muffled cries. Panicked he raced over to the closed door hearing a sound so unfamiliar he wasn’t sure if he was hearing correctly or not.
Softly knocking he tried to call out for you first, “Y/N?”
He was only met with louder cries. It was definitely you hiding away in the bathroom. He had just left Tess to go finish off the deal. She was always able to squeeze more out of people than he was. The duo finished the run far sooner than they were planning, and he wanted to come find you, like he always did. He made sure that you were the first thing he went to go find once he got back from a run. He wasn’t sure when or why it started happening. You just brought him so much comfort.
This was the last thing he expected. Hearing you breaking down on the other side of the door.
Opening the door, he hoped it wasn’t too bad, whatever was hiding.
“Y/N?” The sight before him was something he’d never wished to see. A nightmare really. There was blood everywhere. Your blood seemed to coat almost every surface of the small bathroom
He was met with your wide eyes. Clearly caught doing something you didn’t want him to see, “Joel. Shit. Joel, hey.” You wiped your eyes as best as you could knowing it hid absolutely nothing. You were sure they were blood shot as you kept running your sleeve across them.
“What the fuck happened?” He nearly growled as his instincts kicked into gear. He grabbed a washcloth dabbing it in some water before crouching down beside you.
“Raiders, smugglers or some shit.” You sighed leaning your head back against the wall. Feeling Joel take your hand that was holding the wound closed you watched as he looked at the wound. Not having any energy left to fight him you simply observed.
“They take the shit?” He frowned looking the stab wound over. He was a little relieved to see it wasn’t that bad. Not thinking you needed any stitches he opted for gauze and a wrap.
“No, no.” You took another breath focusing on him and not your pulsing thigh, “We got everything back. You know Rory would never let them take anything alive.” Rory had a certain zest for life that many didn’t have. He was almost careless with his life, not caring if he gave his for the greater good.
He looked up seeing your pained face. He wasn’t good at this shit. That’s why he loved being around you and Tess, you never made him do the mushy crap. He’d been decent at it a lifetime ago, with Sarah. But fast forward fifteen years and that man was gone. Replaced by a hardened shell that Joel would never recognize.
“You alight?” He asked looking you over while cleaning the dried blood off your leg still holding pressure to the bleeding wound.
Nodding your head, you took a drawn-out breath in through your nose, eyes still closed. What you’d do for another adrenaline rush right now, “’m fine Joel.” You tried to convince yourself more so than him.
“You don’t have to lie to me Y/N.”
“I’m just tired.” It wasn’t a lie. It just wasn’t the whole truth. Something you’ve grown very good at.
Joel wasn’t accepting that though. He heard you sobbing not five minutes ago. You weren’t alright and he needed to make sure you were going to be, even if you weren’t right now. He loved you too dearly not to try.
Joel’s always had a soft spot for you. Though he’d never dream about acting upon any such urges. No matter how pretty you looked… all the time. Didn’t matter if you were dolled up after Frank got to you or coming back from a weeklong raid. He found you simply stunning. All the fucking time.
Tess noticed Joel’s shifting feelings for her sister. She didn’t say a thing though. That’d make things awkward. She noticed how he always pulled back, never daring to make a move on you. How he seemingly pined for you from a distance. You were too unobservant of him to notice his longer than usual gazes. You were too locked in on your surroundings to pay too close attention to him. How he always double checked to make sure you were alright.
Tess considered Joel telling you how he felt. She would be alright with it. But she knew Joel would never. He was just like her. Beyond fucked up. He’d lost everything just like Tess had. You were the only thing that kept Tess going and Tommy was Joel’s reason. Although that reason started shifting to you the more he was around you.
You were so much like Tess but so fucking different. You had all her best qualities and none of her worst. You weren’t perfect by any means, but you were you. Y/N Servopoulos. Nearly perfect in Joel’s eyes. Surely more fucked up in others eyes though.
“This is going to hurt.” He waited for you to acknowledge him before he dapped the alcohol on the wound. The worst thing would have that stab wound get infected. It was harder to come by antibiotics than opiates these days.
Biting your lip when you felt the sting of the antiseptic you sucked in a sharp breath trying your hardest not to seem so weak.
“Sorry.” He softly let out after seeing your expression wince up.
“It’s okay. I’m fine J.” The nickname you gave him slipped right on out. Often being too lazy to call him his first name you opted for the first letter of his name. He adored it. It made him feel special. Like you saw him differently. Nobody else got a nickname.
“You were crying.” He let his thoughts roll out now, “I’ve never seen you cry. I’ve known you for twelve fucking years Y/N.” He kept his voice calm. He didn’t want to freak you out. All he wanted was for you to open up to him. He knew it was scary. He had a hard enough time doing it as well. But damn if he wasn’t going to give it a go.
“It hurt. The stab. Look at all the blood.” Speaking monotonously, tone even, you spread your arms out as if he couldn’t see the blood everywhere. It didn’t sound like you though and even you had to admit that. How many excuses for the crying could you make up before he believed you?
He rolled his eyes. You couldn’t miss it, “I’ve seen you break how many bones? Get stabbed how many fucking times and not a single tear has been shed. Not even one Y/N. What’s going on? You’re a terrible liar.”
You couldn’t think of anything to say. He got you. This was hardly a drop in the bucket compared to all the other close calls you’ve had. This was a simple switchblade to the thigh. Sure, it hurt like hell, but you’ve been in many much more precarious situations.
Telling him the truth didn’t seem like an option though, no matter how hard he begged. Who wasn’t depressed in this world? Why were you so special that you could cry about it? You knew you weren’t, so you had to suck it up. Deal with the cards you’ve been dealt. You’ve only cried a handful of times since outbreak day.
The first time was when you realized you were likely never going to see your mom or dad again. That was a tough pill to swallow as a teenager who needed her parent’s guidance. Luckily you had Tess, you would’ve never have made it without her.
The second time happened when Tess fell off a building that collapsed beneath her. For a split second you thought you lost your person and you fell apart instantly. The two of you hadn’t met Joel just yet. Somehow, she managed to grab a cable before the floor collapsed beneath her leaving her dangling for a moment before you realized she was alive and needed you.
The third and final time you cried was when you were put on the body burning shift. You came across a distant friend who looked like she was attacked from behind. Probably caught in the crossfire between some Fireflies and FEDRA agents. You didn’t have any friends other than Tess and Joel. So, when you saw her laying in the pile of bodies you almost lost it right then and there. When your shift was up you sat in an alleyway and cried for God knows how long before hightailing it home. Tess knew when your shift ended, and she’d be going crazy if you didn’t come home before it got dark.
You’d wanted to cry so many other times, but you held it in. You had to hold it in. For survival. You never wanted to be seen as week. You’d rather be seen as a robot or an emotionless bitch. At least you knew they could never walk all over you.
“What do you want me to say Joel?” You opened your eyes looking right at him. Studying his face as he processed your words. Confusion, anger and sadness all seemed to emit from him as he thought
“Why don’t you start by telling the truth?”
“I already told you. We got jumped by some random…” You were interrupted by a very distraught looking Joel. The man hardly ever displayed emotions. Just like you. Just like Tess. But now? Now it felt like he was out to get you. To make you feel everything you’ve tried to bury. And it was working. Fuck was it working.
His eyes softened before they hardened, “Cut the shit Y/N. You know what I mean.” He wasn’t angry. Not in the slightest. He knew this was just your defense mechanism. Play it off as if nothing were wrong in the slightest. Tess did the same. He did the same. A learned behavior. A product of your environment.
“I’m tired of it all Joel! I don’t know what the fucking point of all of this is.” You couldn’t bear to look at him as you let it out. Instead, you looked straight ahead, letting your eyes glaze over. He wanted to know what was bothering you, so you let him have it, “There’s no purpose to all of this. We’ll all get bitten eventually. That or either blown apart by a fucking bullet or sliced in half by a god damned blade.”
“Y/N.” He took your chin in his calloused hand so gently. So, fucking gently it made you want to scream. With a feather light touch he moved your head so that you were looking at him once more. For the first time in forever you felt your cheeks burn as he looked right through you. Like he was seeing you for the first time. Feeling exposed you tried to look away but his soft, yet unforgiving grip kept your head in place, eyes locked on him.
“Am I wrong?” You felt the hot tears rush to your eyes for the second time that afternoon. Boy, when the damn broke it sure wasn’t going to stop was it?
The softest expression you’d seen on him broke across his face seeing the tears endlessly flow down your face, “I don’t know what the point of all of this is.” He admitted wiping away the tears that has escaped with the pad of his thumb. It hurt him seeing you so down. So terribly unlike your usual steady beautiful self. But you were finally opening up to him. As much as it hurt him to see it made him feel so good that you trusted him enough to do so.
And trust him you did. You trusted Joel with your life and more. With Tess’s life. That was something you’d never take a gamble on.
“But I do know that even if there is no bigger purpose that you, and Tess, are my reasons to keep going.” His eyes traveled your face as you processed his words. You were sure you’d never hear such an admission from a man who’s lost so much. A man that has lost everything that ever mattered to him.
You saw the way Tess slowly shut down over time after outbreak day. She used to smile, pre-outbreak. She was engaged to be married to the sweetest guy then all hell broke loose. Tess was just graduating college and you were just in high school. Luckily you were with one another and managed to barely get by. You had no idea what happened to the rest of your family. Tess had no idea what happened to her fiancé. Life as you knew it was gone in a second. As quick as blowing out a candle.
It wasn’t like him to be so soft outwardly to you. He’d do it in other ways. Hidden ways. Making sure you were warm enough at night after you fell asleep. Making sure you never fell too far behind. This was different and you weren’t sure how to feel about it. A lifetime ago it would have had your heart in a tizzy. But now it almost made you nauseous. You were already so attached to the man. Add a layer of love and it’s over. It was so important not to get too attached in this world. Everything you seemed to love would vanish.
“Really?” You asked, not fully believing him.
He nodded dropping his hand from your chin. A small frown formed almost immediately with the loss of warmth his touch was providing. You always seemed to forget just how cold you got when you lost a lot of blood. A shiver ripped down your spine as your body attempted to warm back up with the lack of blood.
“Yeah, of course. So don’t say shit like that anymore. We can’t lose you. I can’t lose you.” He said as he finished bandaging your side. Tying the gauze in a tight knot making sure you wouldn’t be bleeding from that spot any longer. Not two seconds after he finished, he removed his coat placing it around your shoulders, gingerly moving your body away from the wall.
“I’m okay J.” You yawned finally feeling the exhaustion from the afternoon hit you all at once.
He shook his head as he took one of your arms slipping it through the arm opening and repeating it once more with your other arm. He sinched it around your waist knowing it was far too big for you. He hoped that’d warm you up a bit.
This was he part that sucked. The waiting game. It wasn’t like he could run you down to the hospital. The two of you would be questioned into oblivion and then tried for exiting the QZ. He’d only take you there if you were for sure going to die, “You’re cold. You’ve lost a lot of blood.”
Sighing you knew it was best not to argue with the stubborn man, “Tess is going to kill me.”
He shook his head quickly, “I won’t let her. I like you too much.”
A ghost of a smile crossed your lips, “Joel Miller being sweet.” You smiled full on now, lazily flicking your eyes over to the handsome man who was sitting on the wall next to you. Another yawn came out as you studied him once again. Your body wanted nothing more than to rest but Joel was making it hard. He was too damn distracting.
He grunted, “Don’t push your luck. Come on, let’s get you to bed.” He stood offering you a hand at first seeing if you’d take it.
“I’m too tired to move.” You felt your body getting heavier and heavier. Sleep just felt so enticing. It didn’t really matter where you were at the moment.
He chuckled. Another rare sound that you seemed to enjoy oh so much, “Oh, you’ll kill me later if I let you sleep here. Come on.”
“Whatever.” You nearly slurred sure the darkness was going to take over.
You heard his laugh before you felt his hands slip underneath you. Too tired to protest you felt yourself go airborne. An odd sense of comfort washed over you as he pushed your head into his chest, “Relax, Y/N. Just me.” He whispered into your hair that was covering your ear.
You let your body sink into his as he carried you bridal style into your bedroom. Setting you down gently onto the bed he shimmied you underneath your covers careful not to hurt the leg that was injured.
You whined at the loss of contact. The warmth being too strong of a feeling. You’d let yourself be embarrassed tomorrow. You wanted him now. Opening your eyes you looked up to him so he knew just how serious you were, “Can you stay?” You made the softest doe eyes you could, ones you knew he could never say no to.
You were right. He couldn’t say no, “Stay?” He asked again to confirm taking a small step towards your bed.
“Mhmm, I’m cold. Can’t sleep when I’m cold.” You hoped and prayed he’d oblige to your wishes.
He took another step feeling a bit more confident at your admission, “If, you’re sure.”
“I’m positive.” You patted the spot beside you, “Need you, J.”
Need you, J. He’d let the play through his head as he scooped you into his side relishing in the closeness he shared with you. Even if this were all he ever got with you he’d never forget it, not even a second of it.
#joel miller x original character#joel miller x y/n#joel miller x you#joel miller x reader#joel miller#the last of us hbo#tlou hbo#joel miller the last of us#the last of us#the last of us series#tlou series#joel and tess#tess servopoulos#tess tlou#tess servopoulos sister#tess the last of us#the last of us fic#the last of us angst#the last of us fluff#joel miller fanfiction#joel miller fluff#joel miller fic#joel miller angst#pedro pascal#hbo the last of us#joel tlou#tlou fanfiction#tlou#tlou tess
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Sacred New Beginnings- Chapter 6
A/N- sorry I’ve been so behind lately guys! Life has been kicking my ass and writers block has reared its ugly head. But I’m finally here, we are going to do a couple of time jumps in the future but if you’ve read Lover you know we have a happy ending, so don’t worry!
Summary- Jake and Stormy hadn’t seen each other in a month, finally a long weekend sees our lovers reunited, but not everything is smooth sailing.
Warnings- Drinking, language, a little bit of violence, smut (save a horse, ride cowboy Jake 🤠). Minors DNI.
Song inspo- “I miss you”- Adele
Pairing- Jake Seresin x reader (oc Stormy)
It had been nearly a month since you’d seen Jake, your perfect week in San Diego heavy on your mind as you packed your bag for the holiday weekend. The two of you had been swamped with work but every available hour of free time was spent on FaceTime, most nights falling asleep together through the phone.
Stepping out of the airport brought it all back, sometimes you still couldn’t believe he was really yours, especially when he was scooping you into his arms and carrying you bridal style to his truck, giggles pouring from your lips at his need to be touching you at all times.
He’d missed you so damn much, he’d barely made it in the door before he’d taken you up against the wall (you knew that sundress had been a good idea) and then again in the shower before you both finally collapsed in the sheets of his California king bed he’d let you pick out before you went back to Florida.
Waking up to him would always be your favorite thing, he looked so at peace and almost boyish in the mornings it made your heart clench as your eyes took him in. Heavy body half slung over yours, perfect hair in complete disarray as he let out little snores (that he vehemently denied were a thing).
You’d spent the day at the beach catching up with the daggers and getting all the hot gossip from Phoenix and Bob’s wife Ellie. Rooster had been relocated to the Golden Warriors due to an altercation he’d had with Jake on your last visit, he and Mirage were apparently working on a relationship and she was still very much pregnant. You had ripped him to shreds before you left and hoped he would get his shit together so it was refreshing to hear that he at least seemed to be trying for his future child. Ellie also spilled the beans that she and Bob’s newest baby would be a little girl, their very first and you had to laugh and say a silent prayer for her 3 big brothers, sweet little thing would no doubt be spoiled rotten.
—————————————————————-
Dinner and drinks at the Hard Deck were a must, you never thought you’d be so nostalgic for one of Penny’s greasy cheeseburgers and a night of pool with your friends. You offered to grab the next round of beers, copping a feel of your super hot boyfriend as you passed, truly the man had no right to look this good. It made it more and more difficult to leave San Diego being in his orbit, he’d clearly been spending way more time in the gym without you around and it definitely showed, you were pretty sure one wrong move would split the sleeves of his button up from the swell of his biceps and it had you hot and bothered already.
Penny rang up your beers as you two chatted and got caught up, but you noticed a concerned look from her in the direction of your group that had you craning your neck to see the issue. You’d barely been gone 5 minutes and already two of the little tag chasers that frequented the bar every weekend were crowding Jake and Javy, barely there tops and cut off shorts leaving very little to the imagination as you caught one of the girls place her hand on Jake’s chest.
“Hey no fighting in my bar Stormy, you know the rules” Penny said with a gentle hand on yours, she should practically see the steam billowing from your ears as you took the scene in.
“I know the rules Pen, I promise to be sweet as pie” you scooped up the beers and gave her a wink, she groaned and facepalmed as she mentally prepared herself for what you had in store for those poor unsuspecting idiots.
Natasha caught your eye as you placed the beers on the table, probably a little rougher than was necessary and she tried to catch your arm but you easily slipped from her grasp as you looped through the crowd of your friends. Jake looked a little panicked when he saw your face, he had tried to warn them off that his girlfriend was here and he wasn’t the least bit interested but these girls were persistent, one had even gone so far as to suggest you could come home with them and watch and Javy had to stop himself from laughing directly in her face. You didn’t share and you certainly didn’t take kindly to someone trying to touch your man, so when you’d crossed the threshold to the pool table everyone seemed to stop what they were doing, very interested in seeing where this situation would go.
One of the girls had her hand on Jake’s bicep as he was trying to let her know his girlfriend was behind her, as she whipped around to say something snarky but it all died in her throat when you grasped a handful of her hair and yanked her backwards.
“Didn’t your mama ever teach you to keep your hands to yourself?” You said as you pushed her towards her friend, both of them stumbling backwards in their ridiculous stilettos.
“Look honey I get that you think you’re something special but your “boyfriend” isn’t the relationship type, he’s told me so before several times after we’ve hooked up so I-“
She didn’t get very far before you lunged at her, it took Jake, Javy and Mickey to hold you back as the bell rang out from the bar. You hadn’t hurt anyone yet but Penny decided it was best to send both girls packing before she had to call a coroner to collect them. You were fuming, once they’d been sent overboard the boys let you go, you smacked all of them on the arms as you wrenched yourself from their grasp, stomping out the back exit with your middle finger in their general direction. Jake was on your heels with a promise that he’d keep you from hunting them down, catching you just as you slammed your fist into the weathered wood of the building.
He grabbed your hand before you could do anymore damage and you half wanted to rip his head off, looking every bit your callsign with the storm raging in your eyes.
“Baby, come on, look at me please? Don’t worry about those girls, you know they don’t mean shit to me…right?” He suddenly looked very worried at the thought that you might not believe him. “You do know that don’t you?”
You swiped the tears from your eyes before you could get more emotional and let him pull you into his arms, you weren’t really pissed at him and deep down he knew that. “Of course I do Jake, you’ve never lied to me, it's just still new with us, sometimes I forget just how many of these girls have been one night stands, I’d be lying if it doesn’t make me feel a little jealous. I feel like I need to keep you locked up in the house, it should be illegal for you to look this good.”
He throws his head back and laughs at that, but you’re serious. He’s yours now and you want everyone to know that the only girl Hangman is taking home is you.
You slide your hand across the back of his scalp and give a sharp tug, making his eyes fly open as he tries to stifle a moan.
“Does it look like I’m joking Seresin? You want to swagger around here in your half buttoned shirt and slutty jeans, getting me all hot and bothered? You like making me jealous? Maybe we need to go home so I can show you who you belong to since you seem to have forgotten.”
His pupils are blown and irises nearly nonexistent, you can feel him hot and hard pressed against your thigh, you know this side of you has got him right where you want him.
“You just say the word sugar and we can head home, I’ll even get on my knees and beg you to forgive me.” He says a little shakily, he’s not at all used to someone else being in control but damn he wants to see where you take this, it may be the hottest thing he’s ever seen watching you be dominant and a little mean to him. He’d fuck you right on the pool table in front of everyone right now if you asked, he’s starting to worry the two of you might not make it home without him taking you.
It didn’t take much convincing to leave the group shortly after, you were still angry and Jake was definitely too turned on by it to continue playing pool. You barely said a word on the ride home, and didn’t give him the chance to open your door as you marched into his house, disappearing down the hallway to the bedroom. He shook his head and chuckled a little, it was hard to take you seriously when he knew the end result would be the two of you fucking but he had no idea what you had in store.
——————————————————————
You’d planned on making this weekend a little adventurous anyways but now you were angry and determined, overcome with the need to be in charge. So when Jake stepped into your space seeing you stripped down to your lingerie you refused to let him touch you, swatting his hands away and pushing him towards the mattress.
“C’mon baby you aren’t still mad are you?” Jake huffed as you took both his hands and bound them with the rope you’d originally brought for him to use on you.
“You promised you’d beg for forgiveness Jakey, so that’s exactly what’s gonna happen. No touching, no cumming until I say so, by the time I’m done with you I’ll have you a ruined mess. How’s that sound?” You were eyeing him with curiosity, you’d always let him take the lead in bed but you had a feeling he would like this more than he had ever let on. You definitely weren’t disappointed as you saw his eyes darken, he was practically salivating at your words and you hadn’t even touched him yet. Grasping his chin between your fingers you hovered your lips against his, every time he leaned forward you pulled back and by the third time he was whining, you knew he’d be putty in your hands but this was better than you’d expected.
“Baby I-I’ll do whatever you want, fuck just-just kiss me please and then you can string me up six ways to Sunday, I’ll be good I promise.” He had the cutest little pout going and you couldn’t help but lean in and give him what he wanted, running your hands through his golden hair and licking into his mouth as he tried to scoot closer to you, poor thing probably didn’t even realize he was doing it until you stepped away from him completely soaking in his pink cheeks and glazed eyes.
“Alright sweet boy, you got your kisses. Sit still and be good, promise I’ll make it worth your while. I need you to tell me if it’s too much though, ok?” You lean in to press kisses to his forehead as he nodded enthusiastically and you try to stifle a laugh, he’s like a damn puppy just trying to get your attention.
“Alright baby, lay back. Think I might give you something you’ve been asking for first, gonna let me ride your pretty face? How’s that sound?”
He scoots to the headboard as fast as he possibly can with his hands tied, gazing up at you as you remove your skimpy underwear and climb up his body, pressing kisses and nips to his skin and oh you might just be hooked on all the little noises he’s making. Finally settled above his face he gives you that million dollar grin you love so much, and licks from your entrance to your clit, testing the waters as he goes through all the little tricks that have proven to have you a moaning mess, the room filling with sounds of you both and the lewd wet noises as Jake ate at you like a starved man. Once he’d sent you over the edge, white knuckling the headboard as you cried out for him you felt a little more at ease, but you wanted more. He had a bit of a kink for edging you and you’d always wanted to give him a taste of his own medicine, so you climbed off of him with jelly legs and splayed your naked body on top of his, pressing his tied wrists above his head as you tasted yourself on his tongue and ground your obscenely wet pussy all over his clothed cock, he was hard as a rock bucking up into you at the delicious friction. Pulling him from his briefs caused him to hiss into your mouth, and you pulled back to nip at his jaw, seeking out the spot on his neck that was most sensitive.
“Oh fuck, baby come on now, you can’t just tease me like this forever- Jesus Christ-“
You’d found the spot evidently, that combined with you grinding yourself across his erection, letting your clit bump against the head as he flexed his hands against the rope. “Shhhh, let me have my fun baby, ohh ohhh it feels so good, shit you feel so fucking good” you were close again already and Jake was losing his mind, in reality he could get out of these knots fairly easily but he’d promised to be good, maybe he had a death wish but saying underneath you like this would be a damn good way to go. He felt himself getting close, you could tell he was nearly there when you wrenched yourself away from him and watched the look of shock cross him as the neediest whine you’d ever heard came from your big hulking boyfriend.
He was leaking like a damn faucet in your hand, tip angry red while his chest heaved, an artist couldn’t begin to try and sculpt how gorgeous he looked to you, your mouthy over the top man was quickly being reduced to a puddle and you were thrilled with the result. You proceeded to play with him and back off two more times with your hands and mouth before he was thrashing his head back and forth, a sob bubbling up from his chest.
“Please-please baby I can’t anymore you win, next girl that comes near me is gonna know I’m yours before she even gets close enough, f-fuck shit I can’t- love you so fucking much”
You laved your tongue over the head of his cock and batted your eyelashes, you definitely got the appeal now as you took in his sweaty form, poor Hangman; reduced to near tears in under an hour just from his sweet little girlfriend, if you were honest you enjoyed it a little too much. Sliding back up his body you removed the ropes, kissing at his wrists and he sighed in relief, he kept his hands to himself as he waited to see if you’d give him what he needed.
“Go ahead Jakey, take what you want baby I’m all yours.”
He flipped you both over immediately, sucking on your tongue as he slammed into you, loud moans and harsh slapping noises coming from your bodies as he sought out his release.
“Fuckin mean, toying with me like that sugar. You know you’re all I’ve wanted, think about this pretty pussy gripping me tight all fucking day, give anything to fuck you like this every night. Nobody makes me feel as good as you do- no one. Love you so goddamn much.”
Now he’s turned you into the moaning mess, playing with your clit as he fucked you hard, you were on the edge again he could feel you pulsing around him, pulling your face into his he sucked your bottom lip and came, desperately grinding up against him as you rode the aftershocks together.
You couldn’t believe what had come over you and you put your hands over your face and giggled. He laughed at how cute you looked and stole kisses, you both needed to get up and shower but these little moments were so scarce these days that he couldn’t help but stay put as long as you’d let him.
——————————————————————
Sunday morning was lazy lovemaking and breakfast in bed, before he finally had to help you pack up to head back to the airport. You’d been a bucket of tears the whole car ride, practically in his lap in the truck the second he’d parked.
“We got this baby” he’d said as he walked you to security, and your heart broke with every step you had to take to get on your plane. Once a month would never be enough, you both wanted a lifetime, it was time to make some changes.
Jake Seresin Masterlist
Tagging- @mamamaystbr @mamachasesmayhem @bobgasm @attapullman @roosterforme @pinkdaisies9285 @djs8891 @jessicab1991 @the-aspiring-fanfic-writer @mygyn @angelbabyyy99 @86laura11 @shanimallina87 @floydsglasses @jostan456 @kmc1989 @dempy @its-the-pilot @mrsevans90 @purelyfiction @nouis-bum
#top gun maverick#jake seresin#jake hangman fic#jake hangman x you#jake hangman smut#jake hangman x reader#jake seresin x reader#jake seresin fanfiction#jake seresin smut#jake hangman seresin#jake hangman imagine#top gun hangman#top gun maverick fanfiction#sacred new beginnings#snb#Jake and Stormy
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Once Upon a Time in 1996... 1/?
IceMav TimeLoop. Maverick wakes up to a great day. Then it all turns to shit.
Once Upon a Time in 1996 - Chapter One
Pete wakes up feeling great. So well rested, like only a night under the Bradshaw house can bring him. Peaceful contentedness which seeps through him and makes him feel settled in a way that nothing else on Earth can. The sky is a different matter, but here on Earth, he’s happy right now. He’s back from a short four-month deployment, three weeks of leave ahead of him and he gets to spend it here, with his little family.
Bradley is recently thirteen, much more difficult to get up in the morning, according to Carole, but still young and excitable enough to see Mav. He’s been warned that that’s likely to change, that he’ll start communicating in grunts and think Mav is lame or whatever the kids are calling something unfashionable these days. He doesn’t care. He’s been here three days, today is a Friday, Ice is back in San Diego, and he has the entire weekend with his favorite people stretching out in front of him.
Today is going to be a good day.
A great day.
He waves Bradley off as he runs to catch the bus, piece of toast still dangling from his mouth. Carole is dressed and ready, telling him she has an appointment but thinks she’ll be back before ten. He smiles and nods, wonders if she’s taken the day off work, because that’s where she’s gone the last two days. He decides to do the yard work, nothing else to fill his time and it means he can spend more time in the weekend with Carole, Bradley and Tom.
He’s finished cutting the grass, done the edges, left the garden beds well enough alone because he can’t tell a flower from a weed and Carole would be well within her rights to yell at him if he pulled out her flowers. He’s under no time restraint, just enjoying the time in the sun and doing light manual labor.
He’s all done, just sitting on the steps, enjoying the sun and drinking a glass of water when Carole pulls into the drive, stops her car. He can tell from where he is watching that she’s crying, eyes red and puffy, wiping at her face; she’s always been a messy crier, her words, not his, because he might not always have the best track record with women, but he knows not to call them messy or ugly criers, even when they said it first. He hesitates for a moment, wonders whether he should go and ask what’s wrong or wait for her to come to him.
Ten minutes pass and she hasn’t moved so he gets up, wipes his hands on his shorts and walks over to the car, crouches down by the open window and notes that she doesn’t even look at him. That’s not a good sign.
“Carole… what’s wrong.”
“I have cancer.”
“Fuck.”
“Yeah, that was pretty much my first response too.”
“What…” He wants to know where, how long, whether she’s gotten a second opinion. His mind is awhirl with questions and he can’t even begin to imagine what she must be thinking or feeling. Had she known this was the news she’d be getting when she left this morning? He doesn’t know what cancer is or does exactly, just that it’s bad and that some of the possible treatments are pretty experimental. And aren’t very nice to the body either.
He opens the doors and reaches over, unclips the safety belt and tugs her toward him, giving her a hug as she stands and slumps against him, her tears coming fresh and he realizes she probably shouldn’t have been driving in the state that she’s in. He guides her inside, kicking the door closed with his foot and his mind is still whirling with questions.
Carole’s grabbed a bottle of wine and is drinking directly from it and he frowns, wants to take it from her, except it would be incredibly hypocritical of him considering the number of times she’s said nothing about his own tendencies to drink to cope on particular dates. Still, she must see something in his expression because she waves the bottle.
“It’s not like it’s going to kill me.”
Then she’s crying again, the shock of the news she’s received hitting fresh and he feels completely and utterly helpless.
Fuck.
“What do you want…?”
“To not have cancer.”
Ask a stupid question, he guesses, and wonders how he can somehow make this right. Make her feel better, at the very least. He needs to fix this, except he knows he can’t. This isn’t something he can simply speed away from. Not something he can do anything about except just… be there he guesses. Then he realizes that being there means also being there for Bradley. Oh god, Carole is dying and Bradley is going to be an orphan.
That… that can’t happen.
But it’s going to happen.
He can’t do anything about that.
“How are you going to tell Bradley?”
“I can’t think about that right now…”
“Okay.”
“Actually, you know what, I’m not going to tell him.”
“What?”
“I’m not going to tell him. He doesn’t need to deal with grown-up stuff like this Pete.”
Pete opens his mouth, shuts it again. It’s her decision, of course it is. She’s the actual parent here. And the one with cancer. None of this is his choice, he doesn’t get a say in any of it, no matter how wrong it sits in his gut.
“You, ah, want some time alone?”
“Yeah. Yeah that would be great.”
“Okay, I can go and pick Bradley up from school. Take him somewhere. Keep him busy. Come back later.”
“I thought you were doing something with Tom tonight?”
“He can wait, he’ll understand.”
God he hopes Tom will understand. He heads out to his bike, mind in a haze and he rides with no destination in mind, it’s still far too early to turn up and pick up Bradley. His appetite is non-existent, the idea of even contemplating lunch making him queasy. Eventually it’s close enough time-wise and he pulls up in front of the school, kicks his bike to stand and rubs his face. Wonders what the hell he’s going to do.
“Mav! Hey Mav! What are you doing here? I thought I was catching the bus home?”
“Yeah, but then I decided that maybe we should go and get ice cream on the pier you know? Play hooky before going home to your mom?”
“You said ice cream, and I get to ride on the back of your bike?”
He looks like all his Christmases have come and once and Pete winces but then nods, grabs out the helmet and holds it out, ignores Bradley’s roll of eyes. Carole will kill him if she finds out, regardless of whether he wears the helmet or not, but he didn’t think this through, already off-kilter from Carole’s news and the feeling of being helpless.
“There’s still time for you to catch the bus…” he says, wiggling the helmet when Bradley doesn’t take it immediately.
“Fine…” Bradley moans, but he’s grinning, shoving the helmet on and tightening his bag on his shoulders before letting Pete fasten the straps and making sure it sits firmly and isn’t loose.
“Lucky you got a big head kid.”
Bradley laughs and Pete hops on, talks Bradley through getting on, explains where he needs to rest his feet and that he needs to hold onto him. He suffers the eye rolls but Bradley listens and follows the instructions perfectly and he exits the parking lot slowly, mindful of the number of kids and vehicles. He heads toward the pier, knows it’s a nice spot with multiple places for ice-cream, which will keep Bradley happy and they can walk around for an hour or two. He’s going to have to take Bradley home eventually, but he also wants to give Carole the time she needs.
He thinks it’s a patch of water, not oil, feels the back wheel of the bike slide a little, slows instantly, mindful of Bradley behind him. Of course Bradley isn’t used to being on the bike, pitches his body in the wrong direction and comes off and Pete is certain the entire world freezes in that instant. His bike is off and left standing as he kneels beside Bradley, his first aid training kicking in. Bradley is crying, holding his arm and Pete knows crying is a good sign, he has the breath to cry. Apart from the arm and a few grazes he looks otherwise unharmed, the helmet a little scuffed and he’s so fucking glad Bradley was wearing it. Someone has stopped and asked if they’re okay and Pete is grateful, asks if they would mind taking them to the closest Urgent Care.
He parks the bike and locks it, pockets the keys and helps Bradley into the back of this strangers car, slides in beside him and listens politely as the guy driving talks about his own kids and Pete knows kids get hurt, but this is the first time when it’s solely his fault. And he has to take Bradley home and tell Carole. He’s pretty sure he just made Carole’s day a hundred times worse by endangering Bradley like this and he feels sick with guilt.
Instead of whiling away hours walking the pier and eating too much ice-cream they sit in Urgent Care and Mav has never been so glad that he knows everything he needs to about Bradley, that he’s allowed to sign and consent on his behalf, that he knows all the medical insurance details needed. He sits with Bradley, glad he’s feeling fine apart from the broken arm, already excited about telling his friends at school about how cool it was and he shakes his head, can’t even find it a little bit amusing.
He asks for them to ring a taxi, sits and wonders what the hell he’s going to say that is somehow going to make this right in any way, shape or form as he gets closer to the place he calls home. Bradley is out of the taxi and running toward the door before he can stop him, warn him that his mom might not be… well. He has no idea what they might find. Bradley’s already inside, calling for her when he steps inside, clasping his hands with the same nerves he’d felt when he’d seen her the first time after Goose had died.
“Oh my god, what happened? Honey, are you okay?”
She’s not sober, but she’s also not black-out drunk, so he’ll count that as a small win.
“I fell off Mav’s bike!”
He winces. So much for breaking it to her gently. She’s now staring at him, eyes furious and he knows what’s coming.
“What was he doing on your bike Pete?”
�� “I’m sorry. It won’t happen again.”
“You bet your ass it won’t!”
Bradley is looking between them, and he looks close to tears again, but he’s pretty sure it’s from seeing him and Carole fight. They don’t, always pretty even keeled and more prone to heated discussion than sharp yelling.
“Carole…”
“Pete, just… get out. I can’t have you here right now.”
“Yeah, sorry. Of course.”
His stomach is churning and he’s close to tears, his family, the only people he considers family, aching and hurting and not wanting him near them. He clenches his fists and sucks in a breath, he will not cry. Sets his jaw, turns around and starts walking.
It’s aimless.
Aimless until it isn’t and he realizes after an hour that he’s heading back to his bike, which at least makes him feel a tiny bit better. With his bike he can… He can go and visit Ice, the only place now he knows will take him in, even if he doesn’t wholly deserve it; just needs to go somewhere where he maybe won’t feel like such a colossal fuck-up. Ice still lives in on-base accommodation, moving around too often to make it worth buying anywhere apparently, although he does list San Diego as his home base. He shows his ID at the gate and is waved in, pulls up in front of Ice’s squat little two-bedroom house and turns off his bike. Weirdly he’s actually right on time for the dinner they’re meant to be having, something that Ice had asked him to except he’s in no rush to go inside and face him either.
Ten minutes later he hears the door open and looks up to see Ice watching him, expression unreadable and Pete tries to smile a greeting but thinks it probably comes out looking like a weird, pained sort of thing.
“Were you planning on actually coming in…?”
“Yeah. Sorry.”
“It’s fine. Of course it’s fine. Mav… Maverick. Are you okay?”
He looks up at him then and he feels the guilt wash over him like a wave.
“No. Carole has cancer.”
“What?”
“She’s sick. I didn’t ask too many questions. No idea how much time she might have.”
“God that’s awful. Is she okay?”
“No. Plus she doesn’t want to tell Bradley.”
“You can’t hide that from a kid. He’s thirteen and he’s smart.”
“I know, that’s what I said, but she might just need a couple of days to process or something.”
He gets off his bike, locks it and follows Ice inside, and he’s feeling a little faint, reminded he hasn’t actually eaten anything much and he probably should take care of that.
“It’s been a really shitty day…”
“Yeah, sounds it. You want a drink?”
He nods, even though it’s an awful idea on an empty stomach but he can start with a drink and then they can have food. He accepts the beer and takes a drink, prepares for the disappointed look he’s about to receive.
“It gets worse. I broke Bradley’s arm.”
“What the fuck Pete! How?”
“It was an accident! He came off my bike.”
“Jesus. He shouldn’t be on your bike. You’re lucky it was only an arm.”
“I know. God I feel so guilty…”
“Maybe you shouldn’t be drinking. Are you okay? How bad was the crash?”
“We didn’t crash. You saw the bike,” he waves to wear the bike stands outside, completely unharmed. “Just lost a little traction on the back wheel and Bradley pitched the wrong direction and came off. I wasn’t going very fast.”
“Okay… so you’re both safe. Bradley’s got a broken arm. But you’re both okay.”
“Yeah. Carole’s pissed.”
“She has every right to be pissed. It’s like one of her only rules and you went ahead and broke it like you seem to do with every rule put in front of you…”
Pete pulls a face but doesn’t disagree, knows he has ‘has issues with authority’ on his official file and they both know it. Carole’s rules are all about keeping Bradley safe and he wants to keep Bradley safe too, should have thought about that before getting on his bike to apparently collect Bradley from school.
“Okay, I feel like a fucking idiot. Do you think we can just… drink to forget?”
Ice doesn’t drink very much, usually sips one beer, or one whiskey, slowly savored over hours and he’s never seen him cut loose. Knows getting drunk is not something Ice ever does, and Pete would not usually ask it of him but he doesn’t want to drink alone. Ice is watching him with quiet, serious eyes, and then he nods sharply, like he’s suddenly made a snap decision. Then he’s pulling a bottle of vodka out of the freezer and Pete’s eyes widen.
“You keep vodka in your freezer?”
“This seems like a job for vodka,” Ice says, and he’s placing two shot glasses on the bench, filling them up and sliding one across to him. Pete’s having to adjust his world view a little, because he’s never seen Ice like this and it’s a little thrilling to see him want to let loose a little with him like this. Their eyes meet and in silent agreement they both slam the shots back at once, Ice silently refilling them.
Two shots becomes three becomes four, then five and it’s been years since he’s done this, tried to drown his guilt. Six shots. But this is fresh guilt. Not being able to help Carole. Getting Bradley injured. Seven shots. And now apparently making Ice get drunk for the first time in years apparently. Eight shots. Not that he can tell, Ice just standing there impassively watching him like this is somehow one of their little competitions. He goes to move and staggers a little, the sudden movement sending the world tipping and then Ice is there, hand steady on his elbow and he leans into it.
“That’s some strong stuff…” he mumbles, let’s Ice lead him to the sofa which also feels like it’s moving and oh no… he’s going to regret this in the morning. Already regrets it.
“My emergency stash.”
“What’s an emergency?”
“You. It’s nearly always you Mav…” Ice says, his voice quiet. “God I wish…” he feels fingers brush through his hair and he groans, because he’s definitely had too much to drink. He pushes his head into the feeling of the fingers, the pressure feels good on his scalp. “God I wish I didn’t love you.”
He doesn’t remember passing out.
CHAPTER TWO
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Darling, His Darling - C.S (fanfic)
Pairing: Choi San x Reader
Au: Yandere, Royalty au
Synop: LIving with your lady was bad enough, but when she invites a fellow monarch over is when it goes from bad to worse.
Warnings: Class/Power abuse, abuse, manipulation, murder/death, dark themes, yandere themes, San’s pretty delusional, and he does some weird shit later in the fic..
Nsfw: Dom!San, Sub!Reader, unprotected sex, praise kink, dirty talk, degradation, let me know what i missed.
A/N: Please do not read if yandere themes make you uncomfortable, I don't want to make anyone feel some type of way.
T's: @soobinshouseplant @mingissoggywaffles ( @taehyunscaramelfrappe ) @ninathesunflower
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.lıllılı.ıllıılı.
[INCEPTION ]- [ATEEZ]
0:01 •─────── 3:31
↺ << ll >> ⋮≡
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“I better see this floor spotless! I won’t have any of you ruin my chance!”
The shrill voice of Lady Raina announced to you all.
Today was a special day for the Lady of the House as a really important monarch was arriving.
Prince San from the Kingdom of Aurora.
It was said that he was a gentleman, he cared for his subjects and servants, ruling with an iron fist alongside his fellow royals in the house of 8.
You’ve heard good things about the prince, so it’s surprising that he was coming to this place when there's several other kinder women out there. And Lady Raina…well..
“(Y/n!)! Emerald! Jade! You three are to greet the prince! You three are the least ugliest.
And with that Raina turned and left, yelling down the hallway. It made all the maids surrounding you fly up into a flurry rushing around. While you, Emerald and Jade sighed in unison.
The three of you were the head maids, with you being at the manor the longest. Emerald and Jade were a pair of twins that came around 3 months ago and outshined everyone else, which earned their promotions to head maids. They were your only friends in the manor as you felt like the other maids disliked you for some unknown reason. It wasn’t your fault that the Lady of the Manor was so rude and a bitch, but they loved to take it out on you.
Anyway, the three of you moved to go and prepare yourselves.
Jade scoffed as she walked, green eyes in a fiery rage. “Why us?! And how dare she call us ugly when she looks like the bottom of the ocean floor.” She grumbled, making Eme giggle. “I know right? The fact that she calls the three of us ugly, yet always uses us to greet the royals..”
You nodded in agreement, your annoyance on your face already. “ Well, let's just get this over with guys..” You mutter as the three of you walk to your rooms.
Whenever a maid needed to greet visiting royalty, they were told to dress in their best clothing and make a good impression. It was annoying every time.
Not only because if you failed to make a good impression you’d be punished, but if you did, you ran the risk of being kicked out or even murdered if Lady Raina suspected a visiting royal was showing interest. So it wasn’t good for the servant at all.
But luckily each time that you did it, the royals were stuck up bastards, so you didn’t have to worry about that.
But then again, this was a prince that was naturally kind.
You might have to be worried.
“(Y/n!) He’s Here!”
You cursed as Emerald pulled you to the front manor door. You were dressed in a beautiful deep red gown that was only used for special occasions. The twins were in matching green gowns of a similar style, they looked at you before giving a thumbs up. The door opened to reveal some of the royal advisors to the prince.
You kept your eyes glued to the ground as you heard footsteps coming towards you.
“Why are your eyes to the ground? Look at me please.”
You nervously raised your head and your eyes widened as a soft blush spreads across your face.
Prince San stood mere feet away from you with a small smirk on his face. He was gorgeous, black hair slicked back with gray peeking underneath it, pretty brown eyes staring at you. He wore a matching color outfit to yours, a deep red suit with accents of jewelry decorating it.
A chuckle leaves his throat before he speaks again.
“Cat got your tongue?” He asked jokingly and you quickly shook your head to snap out of the little daze you were in.
“O-oh, I’m sorry your highness.” You moved to grab Eme and Jade’s hands to do your little introduction. The three of you bowed infront of him.
“Welcome Prince San to our beloved manor, Her Lady Raina is waiting in the main room for you.”
The Prince smiles as he walks past the three of you with his advisors behind him. Emerald giggles as Jade places a hand on your back.
“You alright (y/n)? You locked up at his beauty..” Jade asks and you nodded slowly.
It was your first time you saw Prince San in person, and he was just as handsome as they saide. They being Jade and Emerald. Their previous job required them to work underneath some of the royal advisors, so they told you plenty of stories of the Prince and how he was to prepare you for today.
He was the fairytale prince charming that everyone wanted and dreamed of.
You included.
You sighed longingly, leaning on Emerald as the three of you walked to the throne room. You couldn’t stop thinking of the prince and his beauty. He was just too damn beautiful for him to be real. You really felt bad for him if this is who he chose to marry because he would be in for one hell of a ride.
When you reached the main room, you took your places beside Raina as she talked to the Prince. The male noticed you and brought it to Raina’s attention, “How did you know Red was my favorite color Raina? Dressing such a beautiful maiden in the color.” He said with a small smile and you quickly diverted your gaze to the floor as Raina gave a dry laugh.
“How funny, (Y/n)’s favorite color is red. I’m not much of a fan because i think it makes women look fat. But~” She gets close to the prince and runs a hand along his chest.
“I’ll wear it just for you, your highness~”
You peek up to see the Prince cringe at her words and try to shuffle away from her, making you stifle a giggle. All her attempts of flirting were being poorly executed and it made the three of you laugh.
“Pfft.. the prince looks disgusted..” Jade whispered to you and you nodded, covering your mouth. This was not the first time Lady Raina’s family made her go in search for love, and it will certainly not be the last knowing her track record.
The Lady was not a good person, she was abusive to her partner and servants, she treated anyone she deemed beneath him like shit. So if you were unlucky to be seen as such, you best run for the hills because she’s evil and Sadistic. Which made you sad that she was going after such a kind male like Prince San.
Like you had expressed to Eme and Jade, you hated the fact that she was just going after him for his money. He was kind, sweet and caring, a rarity among nobles, so for her to just try use him really drove you up a wall.
“You three. Make yourself useful and prepare the Prince’s room.”
You looked over to see Raina perched in the Prince’s lap, an evil smirk on his face. It made your stomach twist in knots, but you swallowed your pride. You wanted badly to scream at the male to run away, to choose someone else…
Hell he could choose you if he wanted to. You’d treat him ten times better than Raina would.
The three of you nodded and said in unison, “Yes, Lady Raina.” Walking away to go to prepare the guest room for Prince San.
Raina watched as the three of you walked away, her smirk falling into a disgusted look. How dare you wear red today? Were you trying to steal the prince away from her? Raina doubted it.
She was always weary of you when it came to the royals. They seemed to like you more than her, and she didn’t know why. You had no money and you surely didn’t look any better than her. So why were men and women so infatuated with you?
She rolled her eyes in annoyance, but blushed when Prince San placed a hand on her leg, trailing it higher than she thought he would.
“Lady Raina. Who is the one with the (h/c) hair?”
She internally groaned but gave a fake smile anyways. “That’s (Y/n), my head maid, she’s amazing. She’s a wonderful worker.” She said, with a sickeningly sweet tone. Prince San hummed in response as if thinking of what he was gonna say next.
“Will she speak highly of you? I want to ask your servants about you.”
Oh fuck.
Raina quickly nodded “Of course she would! But why do you want to speak to her?”
San gave a smile. “I talk to the servants to see if you are really the nice woman you claim to be. Because I don't want a disrespectful woman ruining my reputation. So if she speaks highly of you, that means i’ll take your hand in marriage.”
Raina suddenly had an idea.
“Oh! Of course then! I’ll tell her to come to your room tonight!”
She had a plan. And it was going to work.
Whether you liked it or not.
—----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
While you were preparing yourself for bed, dressed in only your red silk nightgown, you were humming softly. You jumped as your room door slammed open, you straightened up as you saw it was Lady Raina.
“Yes, My-” You were cut off as she smacked you clear across the face, her ring scratching your cheek, small droplets of blood coming out.
“You are to speak highly of me to the Prince.” She stated gripping your hair and yanking you to the ground. “Utter a bad word about me to him..” Rained brandished a knife, pressing it to your cheek. “I think you’ll know what’s gonna happen.” She presses it closer, nearly breaking skin.
“Do I make myself clear?” You nodded weakly as she roughly shoved you out the room.
You cupped your face in fear, tears welling in your eyes.
Walking to Prince San’s room, you made up your mind. You were gonna tell the Prince about her, you didn’t care about how you would be punished but you couldn’t brand yourself to allow him to marry her.
Stumbling, you managed to make it to the Prince’s room with her eyes staring at your back. You knocked on his room door, shaking.
“Come In.”
You enter the room to see Prince San sitting on his bed as if he was waiting to talk to you. San’s eyes fell on you, his soft smile fading as he see’s you holding your cheek.
“You requested to see me, your highness?”
He nods, “Yes, Come here..”
He pates the spot beside him and you walk over, sitting down. Your heart was beating like hell as he turned to you.
“You seem nervous, (Y/n)” San says and you sigh, coming clean.
“I am, My lady told me you wanted to talk to me.” You say, watching as the Prince moves closer to you.
“Yes, I wanted to ask- What is that?” You yelp as he places his hand on your cheek, his hand now on the mark that Lady Raina caused. The prince pulls hi shand away seeing blood on his hand.
He stays quiet for a bit, just staring at the bodily fluid on his hand. You were scared for a bit, reaching to pat his shoulder only to nearly scream as he grabs your shoulder and does something that scared you.
Instead of wiping your blood off like a normal person, The Prince leaned forward and licked the scar, licking the whole scar, clearly getting blood on his tongue. He backed away, returning his tongue back to his mouth.
“I know I said I liked the color red, but only when it’s a clothing piece on you, not the blood. But I couldn't help it. You looked so cute~”
You stared in disbelief as the Prince held a smile on his face, “I’ve had my eyes on you for a while Y/n, but I had to wait to get you in my arms..but now i have you.” He said softly, pulling you into his lap. You froze in his grip, leaning against his chest. The darkness of the room was only illuminated by the moonlight coming through the window.
It allowed you to see the Prince was only dressed in sleep pants, his shirt was gone, allowing you to feel his toned body against your back. You felt as if you were in some twisted and demented dream that you werew confused on whether you wanted to wake up from or not.
“Tell me what she did to you my love..” He finally spoke, his hands drifting to your legs, slowly creeping up. You stayed quiet a little bit, only making a noise when San’s hands went higher.
“Tell me. Unless you want me to get madder than I already am.” He said sternly, squeezing your leg.
“P-please don’t marry her your highness…” You begin, “Wasn’t planning on it-”
“No, she abuses us, she’s rude and plenty more.” San went silent as he listened to you.
He loved having you in his arms instead of that wench, but he hated the words leaving your mouth.
He had been planning on coming to get you for months now.
Your two friends Jade and Emerald were no normal maids, they were in fact his two most trusted advisors. He knew they’d succeed in becoming your friend and giving him the scoop on you, allowing him to come in and be your charming prince.
The Prince had met you while you were doing errands in Aurora for Raina. She would always get her dressed from the city and one time you bumped into him while he was getting a new suit for an event. He fell in love with you right then and there.
Not only because you were wearing his favorite color, but you were so cute and sweet that San felt like he was just gonna melt right then and there. So he made sure he sent Eme and Jade to figure out just who you were so he could have you.
But now that he did, he saw just how much shit you had to deal with and it tore him up inside.
“She also threatened to kill me.”
You yelped as your back hit his bed, Prince San was now hovering over you with a serious look on his face. He knew Raina was an evil, conniving bitch but he was not prepared for those words to leave your beautiful lips.
“She what? Did I hear that right?” He asked and you nodded. San stayed quiet, only dropping down to place his head in the crook of your neck, making you tense up. The Prince was laying on top of you, his arms wrapped around you.
You were freaking out internally and damn near screamed when you felt his lips on your neck, (as if he already didn’t lick blood off your cheek..)
“This wouldn’t have happened if I made you mind..” He mumbled against you. “You’d be sage. You’d be loved. “ He continued, trailing kisses down your neck and stopping above your chest.
“W-wait, Your high-”
“Shh..”
You gasped as the prince’s hands went all the way up your dress and stopped at your panties.
“Will you let your prince take care of you, and show you how you deserved to be treated?..” He asked, moving his head so that his lips were now ghosting over yours.
You, still convinced this was some crazy ass fever dream nodded, but the prince shook his head,
“Words, Princess.” His words sent shivers down your spine and you swallowed your pride.
“Y-yes sir..”
San quickly tore your panties from your body like it was nothing, he chuckled at your stunned face as he lifted your gown over your breasts.
He sighs longingly as he leans down, capturing your left nipple in his mouth. You whimpered as San swirls his tongue around the swollen bud.
He lets out soft groans as he nestles himself between your legs. The Prince found himself grinding against you, his other hand making sure your other breasts were not left untouched.
You whimpered as you felt San’s clothed cock rub against you. You could barely take it anymore and as crazy as this scenario was, you needed the Prince now.
“Your highness..” You whined out and he hummed in response
“How much more teasing..” You asked and he chuckled, sitting up with a pop.
“Yes darling?~” He teasingly asked grinding against you.
“P-please..stop teasing..” You begged softly. San playfully gasped at your words. “Aww if my darling gets tired of me teasing her~?” He teased before chuckling.
“But who am I to deny you?~”
The Prince backed up and began removing his pants, you watched his every movement, drinking in his toned chest, his beautiful face and his amazing body. Your eyes fell to his down, chuckling at your eyes widening as his final article of clothing dropped to the floor.
The Prince was huge, you were silently worrying how that would fit in you. You squealed as the prince pulled you to the edge of the bed. “ Don’t worry, I’m going to prepare you for me~” He says as his hand trails up to your cunt, circling around and earning a grunt from the prince.
“Oh my~, You’re so wet~” You gasped as the Prince sunk two fingers into you. He entered them at a slow pace at first, holding you in place to prevent you from squirming around.
You let out broken moans and whimpers as he fingered you. This wasn’t your first time, but it had been a while so this feeling was new.
“Such a pretty thing darling, You deserve to be royalty..not a maid…”
“Gonna make you such a pretty Queen..”
“Such a tight little cunt..”
San’s words went straight to your heat and you clenched around his fingers. Bucking your hips into his hand. You whined as the prince stopped all together, slowly removing his hand.
And before you could get the chance to whine, he pressed his tip at your entrance. He gives a knowing look before pushing into you. You wince and the Prince hissed at how tight you were. You felt tears welling in your eyes as he inched further in. When the Prince finally bottomed out, you could’ve sworn you stars in his eyes.
He looked down at you with such desire that you would’ve thought the two of you were a married couple.
He was motionless until you rolled your hips into his, making him let out a growl.
“Princess-”
“Please more…Please fuck me..”
Your begging caught him off guard, he looked down at your pleading face, it turned on something in him and let out a low groan.
“You’re playing a dangerous game princess-”
You caught him off by grinded against him, giving a teasing look.
San smirked then snapped his hips into yours, starting at a rough pace. You cry out as the Prince holds your hips in place, slamming his into yours with a smirk.
San felt as if he was in heaven, a pretty woman crying out for him, begging to be turned into his little whore.
He could imagine you swollen with his children, the pretty crown on your head and him standing right next to you. He was dreaming of this moment since he laid eyes on you..
And now he has you..
“Fuck, fuck..you feels so good..my perfect little thing..”
The other sounds that could be heard in the room were your moans and the sound of skin slapping against skin. The prince let out a series of grunts and moans as you clenched around him.
He placed his head near your neck as his thrusts started to become more erratic. His moans sounded nearly feral as his cock was abusing your cunt.
You cried out as you felt yourself getting closer and closer to the edge. The Prince made sure you couldn’t move, and that you could only accept what his dick was giving to you.
“A-ah your highness~ I-i’m c-coming-” You screamed out, you clenched around the prince one final time before that familiar wave of pleasure come over you.
You were reduced to whimpers as the prince fucked you through your orgasm. San was close behind you, his hips finally stuttering and coming to a stop as he spilled his load into you. He let out a string of curse words before he stopped.
The prince slowly rolled off of you and sighed softly. “ Are you okay, My darling~?” He asked rolling on his side to wrap his arm around your waist. You nodded slowly, letting out a soft moan as he fingered his cum back into you.
San leaned over and pressed a kiss to your lips.
“Good night my princess~”
—----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
You jolted awake and looked around, seeing that you were back in your room.
“(y/n)!! Get here now!!”
You sighed softly and you climbed out of bed, heading over to get dressed. You headed down the hallway, running a hand through your hair.
When you made it to the main room your gasped in shock, seeing Emerald and Jade dressed in suits instead of their pretty dresses and Prince San had Raina on her knees with all the other maids staring.
San looked up at you and smiled sweetly.
“Darling~ How do you feel? I carried you back to your room after last night..”
Your face heated up as everyone looked at you. You walked over confused before Raina yelled at you.
“YOU STUPID BITCH!! THIS IS YOUR FAULT I WILL HAVE YOU FUCKING KILLED YOU DUMB WHORE!!” She cursed at you and you stayed silent.
“YOU THINK FUCKING THE PRINCE IS GONNA MAKE HIM LIKE YOU?! HE’S GONNA LEAVE YOU WHEN THE NEXT OBSESSION COMES AROUND!!”
“YOU’RE NOTHING BUT A COCKSLEEVE TO HIM!”
You looked down at the ground, feeling tears come into your eyes, because what if she’s right? The next obsession could come along and you could be in Raina’s position.
You could be replaced and theres nothing you can do about it.
“Darling.”
If the prince has this obsession over you now, imagine what could happen if he gets tired?
“Darling?”
Raina smirked as she looked at you,
“Face it (Y/n). You’re commoner trash, and he’ll NEVER love you.”
“What if she’s right?..What if i’m just replaceable..”
You stood looking at the floor, your tears streaming down your face. Your emotions were so fucked up that you didn’t see San walk up to you and shook your shoulder.
“(Y/n)! I’m here, your prince is here. Don’t listen to her..please “ He said pulling you to his chest.
“I wouldn’t have done all this for you…” He mumbled, his eyes soon falling to the laughing Raina. She had a devilish look on her face, the same one she had when he asked about you.
“Stupid bitch..” Raina spat and San snapped.
He whipped out a gun from his pocket and the twins backed away.
“Darling. Cover your ears.”
“W-why-”
A several bangs were heard and several screams rang out, you looked to see Raina, riddled with bullet holes, slowly slumping to the ground. She was looking at you in shock with her last breaths before collapsing to the ground in front of you.
You stared. Desensitized as San caressed your hair, barking orders at the other maids to clean this mess up.
“It’s okay Darling…it’ll all be okay.”
“We’ll be home soon..and you’ll be safe..”
——————————————————————————
©️Sansblkgirlfriend - All rights reserved ✨
#evesfics#evesnightclub (18+)#ateez imagines#ateez x reader#ateez scenarios#ateez fanfic#ateez smut#san smut#san x reader#choi san x reader#Choi San smut#San x reader smut#Choi San imagines#Choi San x reader smut#yandere ateez#yandere san#yandere ATEEZ x reader#yandere Choi san#Dear Yandere Count me In
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hii ive never requested before so this is kinda scary tbh .... im not sure if your mental health requests are still open but if they are, can i request one with either hongjoong or jongho that's up to u! (since i noticed u already had alot with hongjoong already ..) where reader has an eating disorder because of insecurities and is trying to recover but some days fall back into old habits. And how he would comfort you and help you back on track
thank you so much for this btw <3 I've read all of your mental health series since i myself am struggling alot with my mental health and I'm sure it means alot to other people too who also struggle, you're doing sm people a favor 💓
Jongho helps you with eating disorder
Masterlist
Mental Health Request
Paring : Idol Jongho x Reader
Word count : 1.6k
Song 🎵 : Those eyes by New West
Genre : Soft, Comfort, Fluff
4:45 p.m.
Everyone in the agency treats you very well after you got attached with Jongho. Specially when you are the girlfriend of their life maknae. They adore you like a little sister too and you love them with all of their heart which is why going to meet them is your favorite part of the day. Specially when you are feeling down.
As you walk inside the agency you meet with San, "Y/n, wassup," he immediately pulls you for a hug.
When he releases the hug, his eyes get big, "Damn, you look pale. Are you feeling alright?"
"Yes, it's just. Maybe I am tired," you didn't even know when was the last time you ate something. But that is good, right? You have become so fat nowadays. Isn't that why you can't move properly? You feel suffocated and confined around your body. Only skipping food can make it alright.
"I'm going to buy some ice creams. Coming back in a few minutes," he winks before passing away.
You enter in the elevator and reach inside the practice room where you see them sitting on the floor, giggling with one another. You automatically smile seeing Jongho's gummy smile as Mingi gets scared when Jongho tried to hit him.
Suddenly Jongho notices you and stands up, "Y/n, you are here!"
He immediately pulls you into an embrace soaking your empty heart, maybe your empty stomach too.
"You don't look so good. What's up? Are you not taking meals properly?" Jongho asks you and in reply you only smile.
"Yes, you look like you have lost a lot of pounds. What's wrong?"
You feel uncomfortable hearing Wooyoung through these words at you. Because all you think about is how ugly you look. How bad your fat is making things for you.
"I-I am fine. I just wanted to meet you. I was thinking about you a lot," you tell Jongho with another smile but it doesn't convince him much.
"I'll take you to your favorite restaurant today. But first let's have ice cream after hyung brings them," he smiles at you pulling you inside.
You sit with them, keep listening to their bickerings and after sometimes San arrives with a box of ice creams.
You and Jongho share one big bucket which is butterscotch, your favorite one. But when you start to have the ice cream, you mind starts speaking to you calling you ugly shit, a pig and how you shouldn't eat like this.
"You are barely having these. Are you alright?" Jongho asks you and you nod.
"Maybe it's my period, I've lost appetite," you lie to him gripping your own shirt. You feel guilty for being this person but you can't help it.
"I-I am coming," you get up and run to the bathroom. You end up throwing up water and ice cream because that's all you've left inside your stomach. Your stomach hurts and your throat burns from the crazy sensation and how it is so hard to eat.
You leave the bathroom and see them cleaning up stuff for practicing.
"I'll have another lesson then we can go together. Can you wait?" Jongho asks you and you nod.
"That's my girl," he kisses you on the forehead smiling and goes back for the practice.
As you sit down to watch them practice, you start feeling drowsy and nauseous.
Jongho looks back at you asking if you are okay and you try to give him a reassuring smile that you are.
But it only gets worse when you get up wanting to leave the room. You grab the nob and try to open the door but suddenly everything feels hazy to your eyes. You stop feeling the ground underneath you and fall into deep sleep.
Hearing the deep thud from you passing out, Jongho comes running, "Y/n. Oh my God. Baby! What's wrong? Wake up. Come on, wake up!!"
The members look at each other hearing Jongho calling you baby which he never does.
"She will be fine. Let's call an ambulance," Hongjong says patting Jongho's back.
"Splash water on her face. She may wake up," Seonghwa suggests and Yunho brings a bottle full of water.
Jongho splashes the water on you but you don't open your eyes as the problem is something else.
"Why isn't she waking up? Oh man. This is so bad," Jongho is trembling as your head is on his lap. Your body has gone cold and you are barely breathing which starts concerning Jongho more.
The ambulance comes and he takes you in the hospital where Yeosang joins him.
🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸
As you wake up, you feel someone holding your hand sobbing.
"I am so sorry I didn't notice earlier. I am so fucking sorry," it's Jongho's voice you realize as you open your eyes.
"Oh my God. You are awake!!!" He hugs you tightly pressing himself against you.
You feel a saline pipe on the back of your hand when you hug him back. You look around and realize that you are in a hospital bed.
"What happened?" You ask him and he looks at you with blazing eyes.
"When was the last time you had a proper meal?" He throws the question at you with a demanding voice and you can't help but feel scared.
"I won't scold you, sweetheart. Please do tell me. When did you last have a proper meal?" He asks you so softly that your heart burns.
"I-I...maybe with you," you tell him which was four days ago.
"Seriously?" He looks like he snaps but he is mad at himself for not being able to take care of you.
Your scared face tells him you misunderstood him so he gets on the bed with you, "I am concerned about you because you have iron deficiency, lack of vitamin D, Vitamin C, Vitamin B complex. In total if I say, you are going through malnutrition. How do you think I'll feel if I get to know these?"
"I am sorry. I didn't m-" you break into tears but he cups your face into his palms.
"Hey, don't cry. I didn't want to make you cry. I am mad at myself for not being able to give you enough time to take care of you. If you were having a hard time to have food, you should have told me. I didn't even notice," he says like it is all his fault that you avoid food.
"Don't blame yourself for something I've been doing," you tell him holding his hands into yours.
"Baby, you have become my responsibility from the day I've started to have feelings for you. You are not only a part of my life. You have become my life. I can't think of a single day without you though I don't tell you these enough. But I am willing to tell you everything you need to hear for recovering as early as possible," he kisses your forehead and a drop of his tear fall on your cheek.
"All your sufferings are mine, all your pain is mine, all of your agony is mine. Don't you know that already. Why don't you eat sweetheart? Why? You used to love having food once," he asks you whispering the last words like if anyone is beside him they will know your secret or maybe it is his heart burning for you seeing you like this.
"I don't know. I feel like food is the reason everything is going wrong in my life. I need to fix everything. I feel hopeless, wrecked.The more I lose my weight, I feel like I need to lose more. I throw up everything I eat unintentionally. I feel so fucking disgusting when I eat something. It becomes hard for me to look in the mirror once I devour something," you tell him the truth but end up becoming a sobbing mess.
"Hey, we can work on it together. What if I was in your place? Wouldn't you do the same for me? Wouldn't you want to help me?" He asks and you nod.
"Then listen that I'll always be there for you no matter what. I'll help you gain confidence again. Please don't hide all these from me again?" He begs you kissing your knuckles and you smile.
After you get discharged, you start meeting a therapist with him. He has gone crazy over you nowadays because he keeps telling you how pretty you look, how perfect you are. He shows you mukbang day after day making your mouth water which is why you start to have food again. You take some suppliments to gain your appetite again which works very well.
Last time you checked, you have gained some pounds finally after hardworking. Specially with Jongho's support.
Most importantly he never reminds you of your food disorder. He makes you forget about you playing stupid food games and taking you to every new restaurants in the city making you taste new foods.
You thank yourself and him for coming this far after months torture on yourself. Because without him you wouldn't be able to beat this.
I myself wrote it with empty stomach but now I'm feeling fucking hungry
#ateez fanfic#ateez scenarios#ateez fluff#ateez yunho#ateez hongjoong#ateez smut#ateez mingi#ateez san#ateez seonghwa#ateez wooyoung#ateez jonho#ateez yeosang#ateez icons#ateezedit#ateez woosan#ateez masterlist#ateez imagines#ateez reactions#ateez x reader#ateez#ateez choi jongho#choi jongho#jongho oneshot#jongho smut#jongho#jongho fluff#jongho scenario#jongho x reader#jongho ateez#jongho angst
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