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tenelkadjowrites · 1 year ago

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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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bougiebutchbinch · 1 month ago

Text

Okay so Wade is a pillow princess, right?

It's not that he gets The Ick from touching his partners - it's just, well, he's very sensitive and very... erogenous. Once he's in the mood, it's soooo hard to concentrate on anything but his own pleasure. Inevitably, he finds himself tipping his head back and whimpering as he soaks through his panties, legs shaking, toes curled tight.

So, he figures, he should probably get his partners off before he gets his jollies, since he'll go all fuck-limp and useless, and start pulling stupid ahegao faces as soon as he gets turned on. He doesn't especially enjoy pleasuring people. It's a bit of a chore, truth be told. But he loves his partners, so he's happy to get them off before sitting hopefully on the bed and waiting for his turn!

Then Logan comes along.

Logan who, when Wade (internally sighing, hoping he can get Logan to cum fast so they can skip to the good part) goes to unzip his costume... pushes Wade away.

"No," he growls.

Wade double-blinks. "Uh. Did I misread some signs here?"

He could've sworn his Peanut was down to bump uglies - with one, admittedly, being far uglier than the other.

Logan looks... well, gruffly uncomfortable. But that's how Logan looks around him 90% of the time, so there's no telling if Wade overstepped. He folds his arms and glowers like he expects Wade to manifest telepathy and figure out what's got his jockstrap in a twist.

Wade backs off, raising his hands. "Look, I'm not gucci to rub coochies if you're not. Safe and sane, I'm willing to overlook, but it's gotta be enthusiastically consensual, and I'm really not getting the 'enthusiastic' part - "

"Don't touch me," says Logan, cutting him off.

Wade... blinks some more. "Like, in a sexy way, or in general? Because, pookums, I know I'm amazing, but even I might struggle to flick your bean without getting hands - or tongue - on..."

Logan... is he... flushing? His frown deepens, in counterpoint. "I don't want that."

"Okay..." This is gonna be as difficult as putting on his monthly flea powder, isn't it? Luckily, Wade is a diligent cat-owner. He put up scratching poles and everything (though Logan tore them out and tossed them at his head). Still, Wade wants to handle this properly. He flops cross-legged on the bed, very zen, and pats the space beside him. Logan sits, stiff, glaring at his lap. "What do you want, then?"

It takes Logan another minute to reply, sneering, bushy brows furrowing at the centre of his forehead. But when he speaks, there's a tentative edge to his voice, like he's expecting rejection. "I - I don't like being touched. Sexually. Doesn't feel good. To me."

Oh, Wade could cheer! They're getting somewhere!

"Cool! Do you mean you don't like getting off? Or like, are there just certain places you don't wanna be touched, or is it a total embargo - "

Wade's trans, too, after all. He might enjoy having his innies played with, but he knows the same doesn't go for every guy like them.

"No touching," Logan reiterates. The sharp tone makes Wade's mouth snap shut - especially when Logan glances to the door. Like, if Wade says the wrong thing (as he so very often does) Logan will bolt. "I... I top. Exclusively. No exceptions. And I don't get touched. If I get off, I'll jerk off on you. You... you keep your wandering fucking hands to yourself."

"...So, you're stone?"

It's Logan's turn to look confused. "A... stone?"

"God, you're old. We can get you up to speed on your lingo later, sweetcheeks."

Logan studies him with narrowed eyes, for far too long - until Wade fights the urge to shift uncomfortably, wishing he could pull on his mask without being too fucking obvious. That's the other problem with being the ugliest pillow princess in all of Disney. Who would want to see him feel pleasure? Who would want to take the time to finish him off?

More than once, after all, Wade's been with someone who let him give them an orgasm, then recoiled at the thought of reciprocating, as soon as they caught sight of his cunt. Which, knowing what it looks like - all scars and ooze and open sores... Yeah, Wade can't exactly blame them.

But he still wants.

Stupidly.

Pathetically.

"You're... okay with this?" says Logan. "You're not gonna, I dunno, try shit? Make me like it?"

Aw. Wade wants to personally hunt down and execute anyone who made his kitten so suspicious. "More okay than you can imagine," he says, forcing a smile. "And I'm not gonna make you do anything, pudding-pop! B-but. Are you really okay? With... with not getting anything out of this? I mean, if you're being forced to put up with this..." A gesture down at himself; a self-depracating laugh. "I figured you'd want me to get you off in payment, somehow."

Logan's expression softens from the usual cagey look, forming into something far warmer. "I ain't putting up with anything, bub."

Well, now he's just sending mixed signals. "You mean... we aren't going to fuck?"

Logan puts his hand on Wade's shoulder. Wade tenses, expecting claws - but Logan only pushes him back, back, until his spine hits the mattress.

"Oh," he says, nudging Wade's legs apart. They fall open, far too easy, and Wade would be embarrassed if Logan didn't notice, one corner of his mouth flicking up in this unbearably sexy little smirk. "I'm gonna fuck you. But I ain't gonna be gritting my teeth and putting up with shit, okay? Ain't nowhere else on this world I wanna be; ain't no one else I wanna be with." His hand cups Wade's bare, scarred cheek. His green eyes are unbearably tender - Wade tries to meet them, but has to glance aside. "Fuck's sake. I want you, idiot."

"Oh," says Wade. It comes out far squeakier than he intended. "Okay. Very, very okay..."

Logan rolls his eyes and, finally, shuts him up with a kiss.

#deadpool 3 #Poolverine #deadpool #wade wilson #deadclaws #peanutbub #logan howlett #wolverine #deadpool and wolverine #wolverine x deadpool #deadpool x wolverine #my fic #my art #bbb creates #nsft #lemon

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o-sachi · 3 months ago

Text

Nose Boops - Drabble for WinBre Week!

ᯓ something's suspicious about sakura... time to find out why ᯓ character; sakura haruka (wind breaker) ᯓ tags; fluff, tsundere sakura, afab reader, no y/n

[🐟]: for day 4 - accidental pet acquisition prompt! @windbreakerweek

Sakura's been acting strange.

Like reaaaaaally strange.

He was supposed to walk with you back home today, but somehow he suddenly has to patrol at that exact time. You knew his patrol schedule like the back of your own hand and you were certain that he didn't have to patrol. Besides, you knew Hiragi wasn't the type of guy to stray from fixed routines.

Anyway, you didn't like doubting him, so you asked Nirei. One text message and you confirmed that... Sakura was lying to you.

At first, you didn't know what to feel. Sakura was the most honest person that you knew and even if he did lie—he was way too obvious. But then again, it's always the person that you least expect to do you wrong.

Instead of walking straight back home later that day, you decided to investigate a bit. You checked out the usual streets that their team would roam around in. But nothing. You saw a couple of Furin boys, but none of them were familiar to you.

You even checked the cafe and asked Kotoha if he had been there. But still no luck. It was then you figured that maybe he was already at home. If he wasn't there either... well, that's definitely a cause for concern.

Part of you was incredibly nervous with what was waiting for you at his place, but all that worry dissipated in an instant at the sight that greeted you: Sakura walking the little puppy that you two found on the side of the street a week ago.

He had a small smile on his face, one that he reserved only for you (sometimes for his friends too, but he won't admit it). Sakura even bought the little thing a new collar and leash. You weren't exaggerating when you thought it was the most adorable thing ever.

Soon enough, he noticed your presence. His smile shifted into a flustered frown. "W-what are you doing here?" he asks, pointing at you.

You walk over to them, a toothy grin on your face. "Oh, I dunno... maybe I just wanted to see what my boyfriend was so busy with. But it's definitely not because of patrolling."

"Shaddap..."

He turns to look away, hoping to hide the rosiness of his cheeks. But as he looks away, the puppy takes notice of you and rubs her tiny head against your leg.

Crouching down, you pat her softly. "Aww, hey there. Is he taking good care of you hm?"

The dog can't really speak, but with the way it's wagging its tail—tells you that she loves her new owner.

"He can be a bit scary sometimes, but he's the biggest sweetheart. Don't you think so?"

Sakura clicks his tongue. "Stop talking about me with Momo."

"Momo?"

His cheeks turn into a deeper shade of scarlet. He was biting down on his lower lip so hard that you wouldn't be surprised if it just started bleeding.

"T-the dog... Momo," he replies. As much as he tried to keep his cool, he was certainly failing at it. Even though you two have been going out for a few months now, it still wasn't that difficult to render him into a blushing mess.

"You named her?"

"How would I talk to her if I didn't?"

Point. You turned to look back at the dog, smiling warmly at her. "Your name's Momo huh? That's cute," you say before booping her nose.

You stand back up and face Sakura who was struggling to look you in the eye. He opens his mouth to speak only to stop. But he tries again.

"Don't even start and tease m—"

Boop. You just booped his nose—the same way you did with Momo.

It left his jaw hanging, unsure if you really just did what you did. With his brows furrowed, he picks up the dog in his arms. You wanted to be serious just like him, but you found it hard to maintain your composure at such an unusual (but lovely) sight.

"Keep teasing me and I won't let you go near her. No petting... defintiely no booping."

He says all that with a straight face. And off he goes—back inside his humble abode with his little friend in his clutches.

For a guy that refused to take in that dog a week ago... he sure has taken quite a liking for her.

#wind breaker #wind breaker x reader #sakura haruka #sakura x reader #sakura haruka x reader #wind breaker week #fish does winbre week

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spidybaby · 7 months ago

Text

Not The Romantic Type | Part Three

Part One | Part Two

"Aren't you nervous?" Fer asks, hands busy helping Pedri fix his smoking. "I'm about to colpase from the excitement."

"I feel like I'm going to cry myself to sleep, but in a bad way, I can't believe that I'm actually on the top three to get this."

If you ask him, only in his dreams, he was able to be on the top three of the most likely to get the ballon d'or.

He improved so much over the years that he worked more on perfecting his game to be able to classifie into the best players.

He remembered the Golden Boy award, Messi won one before winning his ballon d'or. Now he's following into his idol footsteps.

"Mom wants a picture of you on the suit." Fer says as he snaps a picture of him. "Venga, let's go get some food, we still have that meeting with the constructor."

Pedri thank the designer, changing into his normal clothes back to meet the new contractor.

Fer and him are partnering in a restaurant, he trusted his brother as a chef for his whole career. It was obvious he was trusting him with something this big.

"We need an interior designer." The constructor tells them. "I know you have a vision of how you want this to look like. However, I feel that with a little help and more inspiration we can make this amazing."

"Vale, if you think it's what we need, then let's do it!" Pedri says excitedly. "Fer will be the one meeting up with this person since I'll be at the field."

"No problem, I think my girl will be the one. Not that I'm talking bad about the guy, but she's just a star when it comes to modern luxury style."

"Perfecto!" Fer smiles, "Let's meet up with her, I'm so excited."

Pedri was excited about everything, the ceremony in France, the new project, the possible winning of the Champions League.

He was focused on the field and nothing else. That's why Fernando decided to be the caregiver or the project, so Pedri would be all into his element.

The dressing room was euphoric, the players happy about winning the semifinals, they're playing the final at home.

"Visca al Barca" Gavi yells.

"Visca al Barca" they all second.

"And let's all celebrate to our next Ballon d'or, the magician Pedri." Ter Stegen shakes him. "Vamos Pedri!"

They throw all the water they can at him, making him smile and laugh at how much support he has from his friends. His second family.

After the celebration Ferran invited Pedri to a little party he planned. "No lo sé, tiburón. I'm kinda tired and I have to meet with the designer to measure the tux"

"A little party never killed nobody." Ferran insisted, but he denied. He needs rest and peace.

"Vale, pero me lo debes." He hugs him tight. "See you around, pepi."

He drives home, passing in front of the place where the restaurant will take place. He can't help but feel pride, this feels like an extension of their parents' hard work.

Fer was laying on the couch, checking some ideas the ID (interior designer) sent them.

"Hola, tonto." Pedri pulls lightly his brothers hair. "Are those the ideas this girl sent you?"

"Si, look at this, I love this idea she has." Fer pass him the iPad. He sees the ideas, loving all of it. "She's amazing, first thing and I'm already in with everything."

"Yes, this is cool." He checks everything, loving every idea. "When are you meeting her?"

"I think tomorrow." Fer gets up, walking to the kitchen and pulling out food. "But don't worry, I'll update you on everything."

✨️✨️✨️

"So, as you can see here." The constructor pointed to the ceiling. "We thought about lighting that can be dimmed as the sun light goes down."

"My brother and I loved that idea, specially because we have that at home recently installed and I think it will go so well."

"Perfect, our designer will come any minute now, she told me traffic was hectic and she was just a block away but stuck."

"It's okay, I get it. It took me an hour and a half to get here today, so I can't blame her." He laughs, interrupted by his ring tone." Excuse me for a second."

The constructor kept looking at his structure with your design. The sound of heels makes him turn, you were walking fast while holding your iPad and a few more things.

"I'm so sorry, Marc." You apologize, leaving your things on the desk. "I think today is not my day. Is the client mad?"

"Not at all, Y/n." He pats your back. "He's an amazing dude, super relaxed. You will hit it off real quick."

You smile relief. You didn't want to lose this client, specifically because Marc told you they wanted to expand if the first restaurant goes well, meaning you will expand with them.

"Let's meet him them." You nervously giggle. "What's his name again?"

"Fernando, he's a chef."

Before you can even connect the dots, Fer walks into the room, saying goodbye to the person on the line.

"Fernado, so nice you're bac. This is our interior designer, Y/n."

You smile at the sight of him. Haven't seen him since the breakup. He has more facial hair, and he's stronger and definitely more mature looking.

"We know each other." You smile, still surprised at his presence. "We go way back actually."

Fer is as astonishing as you are, opening his arms to greet you into a hug. "It's been a long time no see." He laughs, hugging you tight. "Gosh, I can't believe you're our designer."

"I can't believe you're my clients." You laugh. "Let's leave the talk for later, I want to explain this to you, and then we can use the time."

He nods, letting you explain every part of your ideas. He can't deny that even if it wasn't you, he loves the ideas and can't think of any way to make it better.

You ask him about colors, measurements, textures, and different stuffs you will need to prepare yourself for your work.

"Perfect! We can't say that this meeting was a success." Marc happily says. "I'll keep working while you two chat a little, excuse me." He wayves goodbye while Fer and you say goodbye.

"Entonces," Fer says, picking your side like he used to. "You're a well-known designer." You nod, smiling.

"And you're a well-known chef, Mister González." You laugh. "It's so nice to see you. How have you been?"

"It's been good, I'm older but I think wiser." He hands you your iPad. Helping you with some things. "What about you?"

"I mean, you can tell how I am. I got my dream job and I feel like nothing can go better than this." You shrug.

Fer wants to ask. He needs to ask if you have someone or not, but he doesn't want to intrude into your private life.

"So, how's the family?"

"They're good, nothing to report." You nod. "What about your family? How are Rosy and Fernando? How is the Tasca going?"

You can't help but miss them, specially Rosy, she acted like a mother to you, always worrying about you, taking care of you when you were sick.

"Mom and dad are so good. They are healthy." He smiles at the thought of them. "The Tasca is doing good. This is a little extension of it, but bigger."

"I'm so happy for you, Fer." You hug him, happy about him, making his dream of having his own restaurant come true. "How is Pedri?"

Fer is speechless, he didn't think you will ask about him, not after the way you two ended things.

"Bueno, no le va mal." He laughs. "He's on top three to win the ballon d'or, Barcelona is on the UCL finals, la Liga finals. He's at the top."

You smile, you're happy he is getting all the awards he deserves. He's always been amazing at his job.

"I'm happy for him." You nod. "Even tho I haven't really been aware of the team. I've been busy lately."

"Maybe you can catch up, he's also in this with me." Fer smiles as big as he can "and he's single." He elbow you.

You laugh at this, blushing a little at the confession. You did hear some rumors about him and some girls, deep down wanting for it to be just that, a rumor.

"Don't know why that's important." You giggle, looking down. "We been over for a long time now."

"Well, if you want him back, he's available to be picked."

"Fer." You laugh. "He wouldn't pick me, specially with all the girls he's probably getting." You look away while saying that.

He always got girls, and nobody could deny that. In your mind, they were girls who were hotter than you, prettier than you, more experienced than you.

That was something that made you feel insecure, not that he was engaging with them in any way, he always ignored them or just straight up blocked them.

But you had that little insecure voice from time to time that told you that he had better options and that you needed to step up.

"Don't say that." He says in a serious tone. "You were the best thing Pedri had."

Fer wasn't lying. After you left, Pedri went down a very dark path. He was going out, drinking, bringing girls home.

Everything to make him forget about you. Girls who looked nothing like you, who acted nothing like you.

Girls who went after his money and his fame. They were doing everything they could to show they were with The Pedri from Barcelona.

You on the other side, always made sure to be cautious about not getting recognized. You never wanted the attention that came with being his girlfriend.

You were with him since he was that Canarian guy at Las Palmas, that skinny boy who made it big.

You were there before the fame, before the fans, before the name. But you were his past.

"If you say so." You exhale. "I will send you a virtual look of everything with all of the things you picked."

The change of subject makes Fer think you may not be as interested in his brother as he thought you would be.

Maybe you moved out and didn't want to let it out. Maybe you changed your likes and now you're not up for a footballer.

"Thank you, I'll see you here next time I pass by?"

"You will, I'll be here a lot more."

With a hug goodbye you both walk out to your cars. You wave him as you enter your car, getting a honk from him.

Fer can't even believe the picture he's seeing. He thought Pedri was being honest with him when he said that no more one night stands with random girls whom the club invite to their parties.

He can't help but feel embarrassed about talking to you all this past days about how much Pedri would love to have you back.

But now his little brother is on all the magazines and gossip news of Barcelona and Spain as a taken man by this random influencer who obviously posted more about being at the party.

One part of him can't blame Pedri, he was in a committed relationship since he was sixteen, he obviously went out and went crazy after the break up.

But six years later was a little too much for him to keep his crazy behavior. He had a chance of winning the girl of his dreams back.

Fer can't help but think about you. If you see this news and pictures, you will definitely think all he's been saying is a joke and that he's playing with your feelings.

And how right he was, you can't help but feel anger. He's been spending all this time changing topics to Pedri.

"Pedri was busy but says hello."

"Oh Pedri can't wait to be here to see you."

"When you're back together, I'll be the happiest brother in law you will ever have."

Was he teasing you?

You don't even want to go to work today. You want to call in sick and spend all day in bed thinking about how stupid you are for believing Fernando's words.

But you won't. The breakup didn't stop you back then, and it won't now.

You will walk with your head up, ready to work in your nice outfit. You won't mind, you have so much to lose, he already lost you.

He lost you.

You didn't lose him.

"Buenos días!" You say, giving Marc his favorite coffee order as usual. "Any news I should now?"

"Well, the Calcutta Gold Marble is taking longer than expected but after that nothing to worry about."

You nod, leaving your things at your little station. "As always with Calcutta."

"By the way, Fernando was looking for you. He's outside talking with David." You nod, thanking him and walking to where Fer is.

You know he's about to mention the picture. He can't help it but be so obvious about things. But you will change the subject as much as you can't.

"Hey, boss." You smile "heard you wanted to talk to me."

"Hey, how are you?" He plays with his necklace.

"I'm good. I had a very nice sleep." You smile. "I want to tell you, the Calcutta Gold Marble we picked for the bar area is taking more time. Don't worry about it. That's normal with that material, but just a heads up."

He half smiled, not sure how to approach you. He wants to say sorry. He wants to kick his brother.

"I'm sorry." He spat, can't even think straight due to the blame he feels. "You probably saw the picture and -."

You sigh, not wanting to have this conversation this early. "Fer, let's focus on what we need to focus."

"I just feel like I need to apologize."

"You don't. Let's move to what's important here. Your restaurant."

He understood quickly, not bringing the topic again. That made you relax. Before this project you were fine not thinking about Pedri. You are fine now.

You focus on making this project happen. You wanted Fer to have the best reaction when he sees his project finish.

✨️✨️✨️

"So, are you nervous about tomorrow's match?" The press guy asks him. "It's the finals for the UCL, and then you have to go to France for the Ballon D'or. You have a pretty crazy schedule."

"Bueno, I think I've always had a crazy schedule." He laughs, making the interviewers laugh too. "But I'm not nervous, I trust my team, I have a big trust in all the work we've been doing. We trust out Mister, so to me it's about focusing on staying healthy, making goals and winning."

"Walk us through the process you have for your next trip to France."

"Joder, it's not that much. If I'm honest, I have the tux, have the shoes, have my family, don't think I need anything else."

"Pedri, we got many requests to ask you if you don't walk with a ballon that night, will we see you walking with a special someone?"

He half smile at that question, knowing he fucked up by getting too close to María at the party.

"I don't have a girlfriend. If that's what you're asking." He shrugs. "I'm single. And probably the only lady I will be going to hug during the ceremony and after is my mom. Thank you."

He walks away, mad at himself for allowing this to happen again. He knows this girls just want the hype attached to his name. Specially now, with all the winnings of the club.

"Dude, you okay?" Gavi asks, noticing his frown. "What did they say?"

"They asked if I'm walking out that fucking auditorium with someone, es una putada, I will celebrate the week I don't get linked with some random girl."

Gavi lift his eyebrow. "Si, but the rumors don't just appear." he scuffs and turn to his locker.

"What do you mean?"

"Pedri, you used to be out and about with a different girl every other week. You flew this girl to Manchester. When you came back, you had this other girl in a new hotel. You're doing this to yourself."

He can't even argue because it's true. He did all those things. He flew all these girls. He fucked up his reputation.

"Me cago en la puta." He threw the towel at the inside of his locker. "I just wish I can have some fucking privacy."

"Then don't involve yourself with girls who only care to expose that they're with you." He hits him with his jersey. "Dude, you can go out and find a nice girl who will want a relationship and not just sex and a picture."

He nods, stresses about the topic already. Gavi is right. So is Ferran when he advise him not to mess with every girl that flaunt at him.

And when Fer tries to get some sense into him finding someone to settle to. Someone who will be happy to welcome him after a long day, someone who wants to grow a family with him.

He doesn't want that. Not without you.

He agreed to move out that day when you asked him to be happy, to find someone who would celebrate all his victories.

But he had that. He had you.

He lost you.

The game was about to finish, the extra time about to finish.

The Bayern had a corner. So they have to step up and prevent them from scoring. Just two minutes more and that's it.

"Vale, a ver." He yells, catching up the attention of the players near him. "Marc, just this cover up and the Champion is ours, please catch it." He makes them laugh. "Fermin, cover Davies. Gavi, cover Saliba. I'll cover their number 10."

They all nod, positioning themselves. They were nervous, this was their chance. This was their final chance.

When Marc let the ball go, Gavi was at the right place at the right time. He hit the ball with his feet, making it go out of the goalkeeper area.

Raphinha runs away with it. Getting the ball as far as possible from their area. Just when he's trying to make a assist to Pau, the referee blows the whistle.

Pedri runs to Gavi and Fermin. Hugging them while screaming. The public was as static as they are, cheering for them.

They won. They got the Champions League.

He look over at where his family is, they're screaming and jumping. Everybody is, the whole stadium is.

Running to his parents open arms. He can't help the tears of happiness as he hugs his family.

Feeeeeeeeerrrrrrrrr added to his story

You are happy for him, you can't lie to yourself like you do to other people.

You feel proud, he got everything he ever wanted, he got la liga, he got the Champions and he's probably will get the Ballon.

And he did what you asked him to do. He got himself someone to celebrate all that with. Someone who will make him happy.

The sour taste in your mouth haven't left since you saw that picture of him with that girl at the party.

He left you behind, like you asked him to.

You tried to focus on the work you were doing, turning the tv off to pay more attention.

You can't, your mind goes back to the way things used to be. He made mistakes, and you accepted all those mistakes because you loved him.

While he is at his party, with his family and his new girl. You are trying to forget about the memories of him.

You fix all the things Fer asked you to fix in the design, making the things he wanted as similar as possible as he explained.

You texted him, asking him if he was able to come see you to approve everything so you order the material.

Fer answers you while he opens the door of his home. He was still ashamed about the picture situation. He could sense the change in your attitude before and after that picture.

"I need your help, I don't think I can walk upstairs by myself." Pedri whine, he drank more than he should, making him dizzy.

Fer helps him, carrying him while walking upstairs. "Pedri. You need to help me just a bit."

He feels bad, he doesn't want to celebrate alone. All his teammates with their partners and kids and he's alone.

Yes, he has his parents, his brother, this family and friends. But he needs a hug at night when he gets insecure. He needs a shoulder to cry.

He craves intimacy, not sexual intimacy. He wants to feel secure with someone to the point of trusting all his worries and deepest secrets.

He wants someone to know his family, to sit at his parents' table and have a relationship with them.

"I'm sad," he confess. "Am I allowed to be sad?"

Fer can't even understand where this is coming from. He never saw signs of Pedri being sad or never heard anybody telling him to suck it up.

"Pepi, you can be sad." He reassured him. "Why are you sad? Tell me"

Pedri just shakes his head, not even sure how to approach the topic. "I miss my life back when I was twenty."

Fer understood, his brother carries a lot of responsibility on his shoulders, especially now with the whole <he needs to bring the ballon d'or home just like Messi>

"How can I help you, pepi?"

"If you have a magic wand that can bring me back to when I was happy and didn't have to fuck a girl every night to feel something, please use it."

He frowns, not sure how to reassure his brother. He knew Pedri felt alone. He can tell. He told him off about his sex life.

Not shaming him, but making him understand that the pattern he was following was not healthy at all.

"I can help you by not leaving you alone." He hugs him, pating his back lightly to calm him down. "I'm here, always will."

He helps Pedri take his clothes off and get into bed, he wants to check him in case he feels down again.

Once Pedri is passed out, he tries to plan something, how can he help him?

He picks his phone to text his mom that they're home. He sees the last text he sent is to you. The light bulb on his head turns.

He can help him, he's not with anyone, not that girl at the party and is done with the playtime every other week.

If he asks him to go to the meeting and approve the things you need, you can meet and reconnect.

He just needs his brother to be ready tomorrow to meet you. He knows he still thinks about you, and you might still do the same.

He texts you, asking you to meet at four p.m., by that time his brother will be up and fresh to see you.

Feeeeeeeeerrrrrrrrrr added to his close friends

"I don't even want to be near a drink in my life." Pedri makes a disgusted face, he needs a whole gallon of water.

"Finish the drink so we can go."

The drink looks bad, very bad. Even tho it was just a tea with no sugar. "Maybe I'll just go brush my teeth."

Fer feels excited. He wants his plan to go well. He's anxious but happy. He knows it's about time you two make a move and solve what needs to be solved.

"Vamos, big head." Pedri smack the back of Fer head. "You drive, I can't do nothing yet."

The trip was not as long as usual. The streets were lonely and Fer was driving slowly. He confirmed you were coming before leaving the house.

When he parked, he noticed Marc's car parked in front of the building. To his luck, the parking lot was being modified, so he needed to park in the nearby building.

"Oye, I'll find somewhere to park. There's a little office, white door to the left. Wait for me there."

He does as he's told, walking with his head down. Still feeling the pain from all the drinking he did.

"Hola?" He asks, opening the door a little before entering.

He looks at all the things on the walls, the chair textures, the floor wood, the bar design, the lamps options.

He's in love with all the ideas, with the little real-life version of what the restaurant will look like. With the little pink pen notes the designer left. The door opening can't bother him. Looking at all the planning that they made in so little time.

You can't even blame him, you weren't paying much attention either. Focusing on answering Marc's text about something related to a change that needed to he approved as soon as possible.

"Hola Fer. Sorry I haven't gotten a chance to greet you properly. I've been so busy with all this little things."

You open your bag to search for your iPad, wanting to show him everything quickly to move out and not waste more time.

Pedri turns quickly, the sound of your voice amazes him. You're there after so long. After all this time.

"Hey about the Marble, I think it's best if we just switch the whole piece. This is taking so long." You won't turn, he won't say a word. "Fer?"

The two of you are just standing there, looking at each other, no words in between. Nothing.

Pedri thought a lot about what would happen if he ever saw you again. Definitely all that planning went out the window the second he heard your voice.

You practice too, what if you find him in a bar some day in Barcelona? You wouldn't mind it. But you're minding it very well.

"Hola." You finally say, voice breathless and gone.

His eyes are rooming you up and down. He can't help but point at every little detail that's different about you, different in a good way. You feel the heat coming up your cheeks. He's there, looking more mature, more handsome.

You shake your head, you have one job to do, getting the changes approved to the project move forward.

"Is your brother coming? Because I really need him to approve this for me." You grab your iPad, tying to look uninterested.

"Oh, I can approve it." He extend his hand and you hand him the device. "Just explain to me what this is exactly?"

While you explain every little detail about the changes, showed him how it was before to compare and to see if he likes it.

He likes everything, but there's something about the way you talk, something about the way you smell, you didn't change that perfume you love.

"I like your hair." Your hair is longer. He loves that. You always talked about wanting to let it grow to try new hairstyles.

You smile, the closeness not helping the situation. "Thank you." You say softly.

You might act calm, but from the inside, you're about to burst because of the way he looks. It's a good thing he changed his style.

Also his perfume, he's using the same perfume you gave him once, he didn't change it. And that facial hair is gone, he's shaved and clean.

"Do you like how everything is, or do you want to make any more changes?" You ask, trying to act professional.

"I mean, you're a star. This looks amazing." He praise you. Making you feel a wave of pride. "Fer will love this."

Your smile grows, you're happy he likes the changes. But you like even more the way he's praising you work like never before.

"So how are you?"

You close the iPad, sending Marc an "approval" copy of the digital prototype. "I'm good, been working hard and I've been busy with it." You shrug, not sure what else to say. "Congrats on the UCL, I heard you guys won."

He smiles, winning the game with his two goals was more than he ever expected. "We did, thank you."

"two goals huh?" You tease him. Feeling a little confident.

He rolls his eyes playfully. Laughing at your teasing. "I'm kind of proud of that, I'm in my Messi era? Or something like that."

You both laugh, you missed this, miss having someone to joke to. You back away from his circle, haven't seen his friends since then, when you are in Tenerife you won't go to his parents Tasca.

You missed having someone from your past in Barcelona. Someone who knew you before the city, someone who knew you as well as he did.

"That's great." You pat his arm. "I guess I'll see you around." You walk with him to the entrance. "Tell your brother I'll text him, I still need to show him some things."

"Sure, if not, you can text me. It won't hurt if I get a little more involved." He throws the jab at you, noticing your little lip smile.

"I'll ask your brother to send me your number." You say, stopping in from of the exit door. "Bye." You walk over the construction area, he can't keep his eyes away from you.

When he's out, Fernando is waiting for him in his car, the smile he has, knowing what he did. He acts as if nothing happened, he couldn't find parking and wait for you.

"Hey, was everything looking good?"

Pedri scuff, shaming his head while smiling. "Hijo'puta" he jokes, hitting him in the head. "You didn't told me she was here"

"I wanted to surprise you."

"Joder, she looks beautiful. Her smile hasn't changed at all, and her eyes, mierda, are shining like crazy."

Fernando is happy hearing Pedri talk about you, he haven't seen him this happy in a long time. Haven't talk about anyone like this in a long time.

"Her perfume, Dios mio. She hasn't changed that perfume, the same since we met." He's still rambling about you. "You didn't tell me, why?"

"I thought it was for the best, plus you were finding out once you started coming."

"Would it be crazy if I confess that I might be in love still?"

The smile on their faces is comical. Fer knew he never forgot you, and Pedri was just admitting it out loud.

"No." He laughs. "You have one more chance, dude. Don't blow it."

And he doesn't.

Every chance he gets now, he will visit the place. He will be there even tho there's nothing of interest happening.

He loves making small talk with you. Having you explain everything you do or everything you order.

It's weeks and weeks of him doing this, bringing you a coffee or drink every time. You can't help but smile at him, still remembering your order of drink.

Also if he has training in the evenings, he will bring you something to eat for lunch. Worrying because you don't give yourself a little break. In his words.

"This is what I was telling you the other day. If you put this on the bar, it will look better than this other one." You show him, thinking he's playing attention.

"Let me take you out on a date."

You smile, not sure what to say. You want to accept, you still have feelings for him. But you don't want to feel what you used to feel when you were with him.

"Please, I know a place you would love."

"Pedri, I don't think it's a good idea. We are working together and if this doesn't go well its just going to be awkward for us."

"It will not, please just give me a chance." he beggs, grabbing your hands. "If you don't like it or you don't feel good I promise I will back off."

His hands on yours, thumbs caressing your fingers. You want to say no, not repeating the pattern. But you want to give him the chance his asking.

"Vale, but you have to promise me that you won't wear those ugly skinny jeans."

He laughs, he knows how much you used to hate those kind of jeans. Always asking him to let you into his closet to get rid of them.

"If you want to you can dress me, I'll be Ken and you can style me all the way."

You shake your head no while laughing, "I don't think you'll like me throwing half your closet."

If you had. A chance back then, those Jean shorts and skinny jeans were a must in the out of the closet list.

"Let's go tonight, I'll pick you up and everything."

You nod, writing your address in a pink post it. Thing that make him smile, you loved leaving little notes for him everywhere in his house or car.

"pick me up by 8?" You ask, making him nod. "Te veo entonces." You kiss his cheek goodbye.

You do your best work trying to act normal. When you're on your car you let a big scream. You were excited.

It's been six years, obviously it was nerve breaking.

You hurry home, you have time to calmly change and get ready. You picked a nice outfit, nothing too casual or too formal. The perfect middle point.

You have a long everything shower. Making sure to be as smooth as possible. It's not like you're thinking about doing anything but just to be sure.

Pedri was doing basically the same thing, making sure everything is clean and nice for the night.

He even make sure his car is in neat condition, asking Fer to go to a car wash to get it ready.

"You look fine, niño." Fer reassure him again. "vete ya, or you'll be late."

"Deseame suerte."

"You don't need it, just don't fuck this up and you'll be fine." Fer laughs.

You pass around your livingroom, you boots heel making a sound with every strep. You wanted this to go well.

The doorbell made you freeze. You check mentally if everything is good. Check yourself on the little mirror before opening the door.

"Hola, guapa."

"Hola." You blush a little at the compliment. "What is this?"

He hands you the small bouquet of your favorite flower. "A little souvenir from me, to you."

You small at the little game of words, you taught him that. Every time you got him something you used to say that to him.

You like how he tries to fix the past by not making the same mistakes, he bought you flowers, like you say you wanted back then.

"Gracias, get in, I'll put them on water."

He checks your house, he can't deny that he loves your taste, always did. You have a beautiful house.

His eyes land on a specific blanket, he gifted you that on your second anniversary. He remembered that you wanted the blanket and since he was winning some money on Las Palmas. He went out and got it for you.

"You still have this?" He caresses the material. Memories of how happy you were when you got the gift.

You check what he was talking about, smiling a little when you see what he means. "I do. I love that blanket." You grab your bag and stand next to him. "Plus, I usually watch movies or take naps on the couch, so it's the perfect location."

You walk to your door, making him follow you. "I didn't think you had it still."

"That means you don't have any of the gifts I've ever given you?" You joke, knowing most of the things you gave him were clothes.

He thinks for a second, he does have a ring you gave him for his birthday, he loves that ring. Or the bracelet with an eight engraved.

"I do." he smile, he had everything you gifted him. "I have the ring you gave me when I turned eighteen."

When you walk to the car you see a black Lexus. "Where is the Porsche?" You ask as he opens the door for you.

"Had to upgrade a little bit."

You see a crazy clean car, smelling fresh. You laugh a little, he was never this clean with his car.

The drive to the place was confortable, he asked you about your past works and you asked him about football. The usual.

Dinner was fine, you did liked the place and the food. He was right about it. He even ordered dessert and acted as if the waitress had forgotten the other one just to share it with you.

"It was amazing, thank you very much." You say, turning back to face him as you reach your front door. "I had so much fun"

He steps closer to you, hands on your waist. "That means this is me winning my chance with you?"

Your breathing accelerates. His closeness is making things to you. The tip of his nose is touching yours. You nod at his question, unable to say something.

He smiles, he can tell by your accelerate breathing and the way your hands are on his arms that you don't mind him being this close.

He lay his head on your shoulder, hands on your back and thumbs caressing your sides. Your hands roam his arms. Scratching lightly.

"You have practice tomorrow." You say as you finally get some sense back into you. "And it's getting late."

"I think they will be fine without me there. I just won us the UCL."

His breathing on your neck is tempting. But you want to take things slowly, you want to take baby steps with him.

"I don't." You try to think of an excuse on why he can't stay. "I don't have an extra toothbrush."

He laughs, understanding the message. He wants to go slowly too, proving that he's not the same one who hurt you.

Plus, you are not one of his one night stands, he doesn't want you to feel like one. "Oh no! That means I have to go home." He kiss your collarbone and pull away from you.

You fix a piece of his hair, hand on his arm, securing yourself. "I like your hair like this." Your nails brush his hair. Making him close his eyes at the sensation.

"I'll come see you after training." He pulls away from you. "I really want to take you out again, I missed this."

"I would love that." You kiss his cheek goodbye. Entering you house and waving him a quick goodbye.

The whole trip home was him and his mom on the phone. He always trusted Rosy with anything, her and his father were the first people he calls when something good or bad happens.

He's mad, throwing his phone on the coffee table next to him.

He doesn't understand how people get to judge him based on things that are not related to football. On the field, he does the work. He makes sure he does assists, he even got some goals like the two of the last game.

He's good, he won't say otherwise. It took him so much effort to admit that he's as good as everybody else and saying he's not is unfair to his work and progress.

"Don't mind the things people say on the internet about you."

"I can't help it. Those random dudes on x saying things about me as if they know me."

"Their opinion don't matter." You pull him by the shoulders. He lays on top of you, hiding his face on the crock of your neck. "Don't let a random person affect your day."

You two have been seeing each other for three months, he makes sure to always go check on you after or before practice.

Always bring you something, some flowers, some coffee or a drink. Something to eat. Named it, and it'll be there.

He loves how much you two progress, and you love how much he showed you he changed, how much different he is from who he was back in the day.

"Don't go to work today, stay with me." He pouts.

You smile, nails scratching his scapl. "I have to go, either way your brother will be blowing my phone with questions and worries about every other thing."

"Block him." He jokes, knowing that Fernando was a perfectionist and wants this project to be as perfect as possible. "Seriously do." He kiss your shoulder before getting off of you.

"If I do I'll be fired." You joke back.

He makes a face. "They can't fire you. I'll get you back in." kissing your lips as he hugs your waist, head on your lap. "I don't want to do anything today."

Your fingers scratch his head, trying to calm him down. "I'll be here later, we can watch something on tv."

He nods, loving the feeling of your hands on his hair. Calming down from his frustration. He missed that, the level of confort, not needing to hide to feel intimacy, he missed feeling happy with a girl.

"I wish I could stay, but right now, I'm the one who calms your brother down when he gets perfectionist with every little detail." He understood, enjoying the feeling of being in your arms.

✨️✨️✨️

"Am I crazy or are the lights way too yellow?" Fer asks, judging every little detail he feels is wrong. "And the material, do you think is okay?"

You wanted to laugh, this was a very common thing with clients, they all freak out with the progress.

"Fernando, please don't worry. I promise this would look amazing in a few weeks when things are more placed and organized."

He nods, going to question Marc about something he thought was not right. You move to your office, wanting to organize your things.

You answer Pedri's text, and he told you he was bored and lonely without you. You laugh and answer with a picture of your messy desk.

You hear a knock on your door. "Can I come in?" When you see who it is, your eyes light up.

"Oh my God! Hello." You say happily.

"How are you, nena? I missed you."

"I've been good, working like crazy. You know me, kinda workaholic." You laugh. "How are you? How's Fernando and how's the Tasca doing?"

"We're fine, the Tasca is doing great, a lot of people. You need to go back and pay us a visit." Rosy says, taking a seat next to you. "Fer told me you were working with them, I'm so happy for you."

You love Rosy, she was like a mother to you. She took care of you when you needed it. She cooked for you, she went to your high school graduation when your family couldn't.

She was special to you, really loved her like a family, the same with Fernando. They were family.

You got away from them after the breakup, you needed space and so did Pedri. You thought that invading his space by being near his family was wrong. That's why when you were on Tenerife you didn't went out to see them.

"I am, I didn't know it was them when I got into the project. I'm happy I did. I've missed them."

You talk for a while about different topics, mostly her telling you about all the things that happened all this years.

You also told her about your years, how you ended up with this job and how it was. It was nice to have the talk you two had.

"I missed you, I miss my daughter." She confess. You smile at that. You missed them too.

"I missed you too, sorry I didn't come back to your place. I thought it was the right thing to do after the breakup."

"I get it." She grabs your hands. "Pedri also told me that you guys were trying to see if things work out again."

You smile, nodding. "We are, I feel like we both want that and I feel this is the right thing to do."

"I hope it works out for you two, I want my girl back." She hugs you.

You two talk a little more until Fer went looking for his mom. You grab your things and walk with them to the entrance. You all say goodbye to Marc, asking him to text or call you if he needs anything.

You say goodbye to them, saying that you will call Fer to meet up for lunch on another occasion.

✨️✨️✨️

"Do you want a little smoothie?" You ask Pedri as he walked downstairs. "I made a banana and strawberry one."

He nods, walking over to you. He wraps his arms around your waist, kissing your shoulder and your neck.

"I have training at two." He says in a raspy voice. "And I have to pack, will you help me, preciosa?"

You nod, passing him a glass with smoothie. You kiss his forehead and fix his hair a little. "We can work on your luggage after training. I have a meeting and I can't keep missing work." You bop his nose.

He smirks, he knows you work hard, but you have been missing some days of work thanks to him. You didn't have that much problem since they were the one who hired you, and Marc was okay with your working from home.

"I'll pick you up after practice." He smile, kissing you. "I'll get us some food and we can watch your favorite movie while you help me."

You both enjoy your smoothies, talking a little about different topics. Not caring about anything else but each others company.

He planned to ask you to go to the ceremony with him in Paris, he wanted you there, he needed you as much as his family there.

He went to practice, the technical team and his teammates organized him and Gavi a little celebration for good luck.

"I need to know what cream this dude is using because those bags under his eyes disappeared in no time." Raphinha jokes. Hugging him.

They are all in the bathroom, having a chat while getting clean and fresh to go home.

"He's using vitamin love." Ferran jokes from the bathroom. "He's a lover boy now."

They all hit Pedri's head while congratulating him about being in love. He enjoys the messing.

"Venga, this is not a crazy new." He says, fixing his hair.

"It is." Fermin says, hitting the back of his head. "You were the whore of the group and Ferran is here, take that in."

"Mira capullo, I'm a saint." Ferran yells.

"Joer', it was not that bad." He tried to justify himself.

"It was." Gavi says. "That why we are happy that you have a stable relationship. With someone you love and who loves you." Gavi hugs him. Making all the others hug him too.

After the shower chat, he left looking for some flowers, looking for some fresh food from your favorite place, your favorite dessert.

He knocks on your door. When you open, you're greeted by a big bouquet of flowers, you smile taking them from him.

"Hola." He smiles. "You look so pretty." He close the gap between you two kissing your lips. "I have our dinner in the car, ready to go?" You nod, putting your flowers in a pot before leaving with him.

Your relationship has improved, you love the effort he's making.

When you broke up, you told him he didn't have time for you, that he never gave you flowers, he never cared for you to feel like you matter to him.

He wants to change that. He wants you to feel validated, and he wants you to feel loved. Because he loves you and would change a thing about you.

"I have a little something for you." You say, picking the little box and putting it in your purse. "Let's go, guapo."

He asks about it, questioning you about the content inside the box. You told him that he has to wait until later to find out.

When you two arrive at his house, you help him with his bag. Talking about something you saw on tv the other day.

"I forgot to tell you, Gavi and Ferran say hi." He says as you walk into his room. Food in hand. "And Ferran wants to know if you can unlock him on Instagram." He laughs.

You laugh with him, promising you will do it later. You left your phone charging downstairs, so he had to wait.

"Do you know what you want to take?" You ask him, your eyes fixed on the screen as you search for your movie. "It's cold, and you have to have some outfits just in case. What if you got an outing that needs something formal?"

He nods. "I have a list on my phone of what I want to take, some cargos, a bumper jacket, the suits are being taken by Dolce."

He pulls a luggage, opening it on the bed so you can help him pick the clothes and help him with organizing.

It was a fun time. You ate while organizing and feeding him most of his food to help him some more.

"Oye." He calls your attention. "I want to speak with you about something."

You nod, taking a seat on the edge of the bed. He was standing in front of you. "Tell me."

He takes a deep breath. He needs to be prepared for a bad answer in case you don't feel comfortable with the invitation.

"I want you to know that no matter what, you can say no, and I'll be okay with that." He began saying. "I want you to come with me to the ceremony." He says.

He takes a few more breaths. Trying to prepare himself for the question. "I want you to come with me and my family. I want you all there. My mom, my dad, Fer, and you." He grabs your hands. "The thing here is, I know our relationship is not established as in right now, but I want to know if you would like to come with me as my girlfriend."

You smile. Thumbs caressing his hands.

You need to talk with him before compromising yourself again.

Yes, he did progress. Yes, he did change. Yes, he was better.

But you can't swipe things under the rug. You can't be one of those who start over without making peace with the past.

"Can you sit down with me?"

He nods, taking a seat next to you. He thinks you're saying no, preparing himself for that.

"I want to talk to you." You began. "Before answering your questions, I need you to compromise with me on something."

He nods, already agreeing with whatever you want to say.

"I need you to compromise and tell me if you ever feel like what we have is bothering you. If what we do is making you question our relationship. I want you to be honest with me. To trust me and to be straightforward with how you feel and how I make you feel."

He's surprised, he thought he was getting bad news but no.

"If we are doing this again, Pepi, talk to me." You giggle. "I want your honesty, I want your opinions, I want the long run with you. But I need a compromise." You grab his hands. "I'm not getting younger, I want a family, I want someone to come home to after a long day, after a sad day or just after work. Someone to spend my weekends with watching something or reading a book. And if you can't do that or simply just don't want to. It's okay." You smile at him. "Just be honest."

He frees his hands, grabbing your cheeks and kissing you. "I promise you that I will be the most honest person you'll ever know." He smiles. "I promise that you never were a bother and never will. I want the same as you, I want everything."

You hug him tightly. Sitting on his lap as his hands roam up and down your back.

It felt right. It felt necessary.

You finally got your past to be friends with your present.

"Now about what I asked, if you could answer." He says, giggling a little.

"Yes, to everything." You kiss his lips.

"Also about the gift?" He asks, curious.

"Yeah, you'll wait more than just a few minutes." You say, caressing his cheeks. "But I'll be worthy."

✨️✨️✨️

"Do I look fat in this tuxedo?" Fer asks.

Everyone in the room takes a look at him, questioning if it was the nerves of the situation or if he was serious.

"No." His father says, he wanted to laugh but kept it.

They continue helping with getting ready, leaving soon after everything seems under control.

Pedri and you were alone, finishing with your clothes and looks for the gala. You reassure him that his tux and hair looked good.

"Amor, everything will go the way it is supposed to go." You kiss him quickly. "Trust yourself."

He nods, hugging you to calm his nerves. He can't deny that he's not feeling as confident as he says in the news or interviews.

A knock on the door makes you separate. "Pedri, ready?" His manager asks.

He nods, taking a last look of himself in the mirror. When he's about to leave, your eyes caught the glare of the little box in the nightstand.

"Wait, your gift." You say, walking to the furniture and grabbing the box to take it to him. "Open it before we leave."

You were excited for him to see what's inside. You kept it a surprise until today, knowing he would be less nervous like this.

"How?" He asks, taking the tux bow out of the box. He recognized the piece. "I thought I lost it."

You smile. The bow has a meaning for him. He bought it before leaving to play for Las Palmas. He spent a good part of his savings on it.

"You told me, before leaving the island, that this was the bow you were going to wear when you got your first ballon d'or." You help him with taking the bow he has on and putting the new one in place. "And tonight, this is happening."

He feels his eyes getting teary. He can't help but think about his little self buying the bow at the local shop.

He knew back then that no matter what, he was going to work hard to get into that nominations and into the podium.

And he did.

"Te amo." He kiss you quickly. "Ahora vamos por ese jodido balón." He laughs, making you laugh. (I love you. Now let's go get that damn ballon)

pedri

Liked by pablogavi, fcbarcelona and 3

8,566,730 others

pedri De las mejores noches de mi vida ❤️

Thank you Culers for all the love and support. Without you, this wouldn't be happening. This is not only mine but yours too ❤️

View all 2,465,739 comments

fcbarcelona Our winner 🏆❤️💙

ferrantorres grande hermano ❤️8️⃣🐐

leomessi felicidades Pedri 🐐 bienvenido al club de campeones 💪🏻

🏷: @gadriezmannsgirl @mbappe-pedri @coco6514 @coco657 @gavisfanta @jajajhaahaha @urmotheris @dessxoxsworld @girlidekanymore @lanussysworld @largavidaalsol

#football #football fanfic #pedri #pedri gonzalez #pedri x reader #football angst #football x you #football drabble #pedri x y/n #pedri gonzalez imagine #pedri imagine #pedri gif #pedri angst #pedri smut #pedri x you #football smut

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sturniolos-blog · 9 months ago

Text

Interrupted Video - Matt Sturniolo x Y/n oneshot

warnings - fluff, cute, swearing, arguing

requested ‼️

disclaimer: third person POV. This takes place at the triplets house but just know Matt is only there with Estrella since Y/n is out of town.‼️‼️

Important: let me know if you would like to be added to my tag list, people who are on my taglist get added too the end of each of my fics!!

—————————

8:48pm

“Matt, stop walking around, you’re bumping into shit!” Nick yelled at his brother, headphones on his head playing music.

Chris let out a frustrated groan into the tape he had over his mouth, Matt mixing cake mix while getting some on the table.

“You aren’t talking to me, how the fuck am i supposed to do this!?” Matt yells, his hands being thrown up in the air.

Nick starts dancing to music playing on his headphones, Chris trying to get his attention as he does a spin.

“What!?” Nick yells as he sees Chris pointing at Matt. Nick looks and sees Matt spilt have of the batter on the table.

“Matt, what the fuck are you doing!?” Nick yells, Chris sighing and shaking his head.

Matt immediately drops the spoon and slams his hands down onto the table, him letting out an anxiety breath as his hands barely miss the batter he spilled.

Suddenly he feels a soft slap on the back of his thighs.

“What the fuck are you guys doing!?” Matt yells, already stressed out enough.

“Dada! Dada!” A small voice calls out, Matt recognizes the voice of his 1 year old daughter.

A smile gets brought to Matt’s face as he reaches around his head to take the blindfold off, setting it on the table before leaning down and picking Ella up.

“Hey, baby..” He whispers as her arms go around his neck.

Nick sighs and takes off his headphones before Chris takes off the tape on his mouth letting out a small ow.

Nick goes to turn off the camera, “Matt-” Chris starts but gets cut off by Matt.

“We can finish the video later, right? Excuse me, i need to put my daughter to bed.” Matt says, slight frustration still hinted in his voice.

Nick shrugs and Chris nods.

“Alright, sweet girl.” Matt whispers as he starts to walk towards his room that he still had at his brothers house, since Y/n was out of town he brought Ella with him to stay with him at his brothers.

Matt walks in the room, closing the door behind him.

He knew he’d have to get her tired first, Y/n was always good at this part but he’d have to manage.

He sits down on the bed with her, him up against the head board as Ella rests on his chest, her facing the tv.

“Shit..” He mutters to himself as he realized he forgot to grab a bottle.

As he goes to get up the door opens, revealing Chris and Nick, Nick was holding a warmed up bottle of milk as Chris was holding Ella’s dinosaur plushy.

Matt lets out a sigh of relief, sitting back down comfortably and smiling at his brothers as they walk over.

“Here, Ellie.” Chris says as Ella takes the dinosaur plush with him, Ella kicks her feet and lets out a laugh as she holds her Dinosaur plush up to show Matt.

“I see it, baby! How cool!” He laughs, kissing her forehead as she plays with it.

Nick then hands Matt the bottle of milk.

“Thank you guys..” He says, taking the bottle. Matt clears his throat, “Sorry that i got so frustrated, it’s just been hard with Y/n being gone for almost 2 weeks already.” Matt apologizes.

“You don’t have to apologize, we get it, bro.” Chris comforts.

“Yeah, you’re good, Matt. We can finish the video later.” Nick smiles.

Matt nods before his brothers leave the room, shutting the door behind them.

Ella then grabs the bottle from Matt, dropping her dinosaur plush on the bed so she can hold the bottle on her own.

Matt leans over to grab the remote to his tv off his nightstand, turning it on and clicking through kids channels.

“Whatcha wanna watch, sweetheart?” Matt says, holding her with one hand.

As expected Ella doesn’t say anything, continuing to drink her milk.

Matt shrugs, “Spongebob it is.” Before he puts the remote back on his nightstand.

—————————

9:03

After about 15 minutes, Estrella gave her bottle to Matt before turning around in his grip and resting her head into the crook of his neck, starting to close her eyes and fall asleep.

As about 5 more minutes pass Matt hears soft snores coming from Ella, that’s his cue to go put her in the small crib that he put in this room, knowing that Estrella and him would probably spend the night there.

As Matt goes to put her in, Ella jumps up from her sleep, she lets out a whine, not letting go of Matt as she almost starts to cry.

“Ella, come on, baby.” Matt says, but she lets out one cry, Matt knowing that if she started she wouldn’t stop.

Matt sighs, picking her back up fully and bringing her back to his bed. “Okay, one night, don’t tell mommy.” He says, climbing in bed with her and laying her down, putting pillows on the other side of her as he lays down on his side.

Ella lets out a huff before rolling over onto her belly, sticking her tongue in her mouth.

Matts hand goes to her back, watching as his daughter falls asleep.

He rubs her back at a slow soothing pace. Her letting out quiet hums of content.

Matt eventually fell asleep too, let’s just say that video did not get done tonight.

—————————

alrighttt i am done i hope you guys liked this one i thought it was cute and fluffy and giving matt daddy vibes (literally) hope you liked it!

taglist: @sturniolosmind @novasturniolo03 @hearts4chriss @vinniehackerslefttoe @christhopersturniolo

#matt sturniolo #chris sturniolo #nick sturniolo #sturniolo triplets #christopher sturniolo #nicolas sturniolo #sturniolo #matt sturniolo x reader #matt sturniolo x you #spotify

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whimsyfinny · 2 months ago

Text

He’s a Winchester

Chapter 4

Pairing: Dean Winchester x Reader

Summary: It's been a long time since (Y/n) and Dean's paths have crossed. Last time they saw each other it was ‘98 and they were young and living in the moment. Nine years down the Line, their paths cross again, but (Y/n)s longest kept secret is about to become Deans reality.

Slow burn (ish), mom!reader

Warnings: language, alcohol, lots of feelings, Dean becoming a DILF

Chapter Word Count: 6338

MDNI 18+

A/N: annnnd I feel like we can get that ball rolling! Sorry guys, this should have been posted last night but my kid is sick again (germy little fuckers) so I'll post it now! Let me know if you like Deans POV and if you want more of it! Also do we prefer longer or shorter chapters? Lemme know. As always, it's only proof read by moi and my currently highly cold&flu medicated brain, so let me know of any errors. Also feedback is greatly appreciated!

A/N2: GUYS IT GOES WITHOUT SAYING but PLEEEEASE provide your age if you want to be added to the taglist and it isn’t in your blog. This story is tame now but it’s gonna get spicy, and my blog is strictly 18+. So pleeeeease save be a very long job and help a gal out.

Photos from Pinterest

New Readers Start Here: Chapter 1

Previous Chapter: Chapter 3

Chapter 4

Ice-cream went down a treat and the boys were loving every minute spent in each others presence. We were currently sitting in the window booth at the dessert parlour, my second coffee now clutched between my palms as both Levi and I listened to Dean intently. He was telling us some crazy story from his travels, and I couldn't help but smile as Levi hung off every word, urging Dean to become more animated in his narration. The crisp ring of a phone suddenly cut through the air between us and it took Dean a moment to realise it was his. After retrieving it from his jacket pocket, his eyes widened when he saw the caller ID. He mouthed ‘sorry’ to both of us as he answered the phone.

“Sammy!” he exclaimed before chewing his lip. He turned away and toward the window slightly so he didn't speak over us. Whilst Dean was preoccupied, I took the time to turn to Levi, warmth blooming across my chest at the smile that hadn't left his face.

“Hey there trouble, how are you doing?” I reached over to place my hand over his, tracing my thumb over his knuckles.

“This is the best day ever!” he said, his voice practically bouncing with joy and excitement as he glanced at his Dean, still on the phone. “Mom, I have a dad!”

I laughed softly, giving his hand a final squeeze before letting go.

“Yes you do!”

“And he’s cool!”

I laughed again. “Very cool!”

We chatted for a few minutes whilst Dean wrapped up his conversation with his brother - Levi trying desperately to contain his enthusiasm every time his dad was mentioned. It didn’t take long for Dean to hang up the phone and turn back to face us, giving Levis’ hair a ruffle as he looked down at him.

“Hey kiddo, that was your uncle Sammy on the phone,” he shifted his gaze to mine for a moment before turning back to his son, “I’ve sorta left him hanging all afternoon, so I’m going to need to spend a few hours with him, ok?” Levi pouted, which triggered Deans’ expression to soften. He looked back at me with almost pleading eyes. “If it’s ok with your mom, I could come around later? Bring a movie and popcorn?”

Dean had barely finished speaking when Levi beamed at me and I laughed at his electric excitement. If he smiled any wider I feared he’d actually hurt himself.

“Of course, that’s fine with me.”

The boys high-fived before I gave Dean a light hearted warning look.

“But the film has to be age appropriate. Absolutely no slasher films.”

Dean held his hands up in mock defence.

“I wouldn’t dream of it,” he said with a slight smirk on his lips

With that, he said his goodbyes with a pat on Levis’ shoulder and the squeeze of my hand before slipping out of the booth and out of the parlour.

Deans POV

“You have a son?!”

Sam looked just as shocked as I had felt less than twelve hours ago, his eyes wide and mouth agape.

“Yeah,” I grinned at him, “crazy, huh?”

Sam opened and closed his mouth a few times, almost getting words out before changing his mind at the last minute in favour of a different sentence.

“Dean… You’re a dad,” he smiled in disbelief, looking over at me.

“Yeah,” I said again, feeling that goofy-ass grin reappear on my face, “it’s awesome. He’s awesome. I can’t wait for you to meet him, Sammy. He's so fucking cool.”

“I bet he is.”

We sat in a comfortable silence for a moment, my mind creating and then recreating hundreds of new scenarios I’d never thought I’d ever imagine. That I never thought I’d even get the chance to experience. I’m a hunter. I live a wild, dangerous, unpredictable life. But I have a son. A reason to live; to take care and caution for.

“Hey Dean…” Sams’ soft voice derailed my train of thought.

“Hmm?”

“How do you know (Y/n) is telling the truth? That this kid is definitely yours, and she’s not just messing with your head? I don’t mean to sound horrible Dean, but your taste in women can be-”

“(Y/n) can be trusted,” I cut him off, his words souring my mood slightly. I know he’s only looking out for me, but he’s always the first to question when something seems too good to be true. “You sure?”

“Yeah…” I held his gaze for a few seconds before sighing, deciding to explain further when his stare didn't let up. “We were together for almost a year. She was different. She never judged, or got angry when I was a mess after a hunt. She knows what I - what we - do for a living, and she never freaked out over it, or tried to break things off. She would just say, ‘ok, just stay safe out there’, and carry on,” I paused, the memories of our time together replaying in my mind like an old movie. I could see Sam nodding at my words, listening. So I continued. “(Y/n) had just turned eighteen when we met. I took her to prom,” I smiled at the memory, remembering the tremble in my hands as I’d driven to her parents house to pick her up. I’d never felt so nervous around a girl before, desperately trying to get a grip on my nerves the whole drive there.

“Prom?” Sam smirked, a twinkle in his eye, “You took her to prom?”

“Yeah, I did.”

“How have I never heard about this? Did dad know?”

I chewed my bottom lip, feeling the embarrassment heat my skin a little.

“Yeah, dad knew. He never met her, but he still teased me for weeks. You never knew because I never brought her ‘round, and you were determined to get into Stanford. I stayed away a lot back then, trying to work some cases on my own, to get some more experience. But… (Y/n) turned out to be a huge distraction,” we both laughed, the sound light and easy as it filled the car. I reached into my jacket and pulled out my wallet, flicking through the various cards and slips of paper until I pulled out an old, folded photograph. I passed it to Sam and he eyed it before taking it carefully and unfolded it, smoothing out the creases before studying the image. The slight furrow between his brows quickly disappeared as he looked down, a small smile tugging at his lips.

“Well I’ll be damned, you really did go to prom.”

He looked it over for a few more moments, taking in every detail before passing it back to me. It had been a while since I’d looked at the image, finding it hard in the past to look at (Y/n)s face and remember that I’d left her behind. But now… now I could stare at this photo all day and feel nothing but warmth. I looked down at the decade old picture, seeing the candid moment captured in time. She had her arms draped over my shoulders, her face in a contented smile as I leant in for a kiss. Her lipstick was slightly smudged and my jacket was nowhere to be seen - small signs of a night enjoyed. I remember her friend snapping the picture before running off with a giggle, passing the developed image to (Y/n) a few weeks later. It was only a few days after that I told her I was leaving, and she’d gifted it to me with a sad smile and lingering kiss. I never normally found goodbyes difficult as they were part of the job. I'd gotten used to them. But saying goodbye to her had been one of the hardest things I'd ever had to do. The promise of staying in touch didn't last as long as we’d both hoped - dad somehow commondering my phone and returning it to factory settings without telling me. I guess it was around that time she found out she was pregnant.

The wince struck my face like a bolt of lightning, guilt and regret hitting like ice in my chest. The years she'd spent raising our kid on her own, working at the local garage in between school runs, Motocross trips and simple survival - it had me feeling nauseous. I should have been there. I've missed so much of Levi's life - of a life I could've had with (Y/n), as a family. My family. I mean fuck, I missed the birth of my son - I never got to hold him as a baby. I made him wait eight years for a hug. I made (Y/n) wait even longer, leaving her with the weight of the world on her shoulders.

Crossing my arms over the steering wheel, I buried my head between them, praying that the tight knot in the pit of my stomach would disappear.

“You ok man?” Sam asked, twisting further in his seat to face me, the well-maintained leather creaking under his weight. I raised my head.

“Yeah… and no. I feel so, so good, like I'm on top of the fucking world, but…”

“But?”

“Do you think she hates me? Resents me? For falling off the face of the earth and making her do all of this alone?”

Sam smiled, a small laugh on his breath as he leant back against the passenger side door.

“Are you serious?”

I shot him an incredulous look.

“Dude…” he started, “(Y/n) doesn't hate you. She will obviously have feelings on the matter, but I think what she's feeling right now is relief, knowing that you're here now.”

I took a deep breath.

“Do you really think so?”

“Dean, I don't think things would have gone as smoothly as you described if she held any animosity towards you. She let you take Levi for ice-cream straight after meeting him. I think that's a good sign.”

I smiled, remembering my afternoon.

“Yeah, she's letting me go over to theirs tonight for a movie.”

“I don't think she'd be letting you into her house if she hated you. I mean, in the thirty seconds I'd met her earlier, she was all kind smiles and soft edges. Definitely not giving off ‘mean vibes’. Plus…” Sam smirked slightly, drumming his fingers on the back of the seat.

“Plus?” I raised an eyebrow, turning towards him.

“There's a chance she feels the same way you feel about her. That hug you shared said a lot.”

I scoffed slightly, finding his words ludicrous.

“What's that supposed to mean?”

“Dude, you've kept her picture in your wallet for nearly a decade. She was the only long relationship that I've ever known you to have, and you're worried if she hates you.”

“And?”

“When have you ever given a shit about anyone's opinion but mine and dad's?”

His words stopped my racing mind in its tracks, making me think for a moment. My heart suddenly picked up speed, finding it hard to ignore the truth in Sam's words.

“I mean, we were great back then, but she's a totally different person now. She had to grow up fast - there's no way she's gonna put up with my shit now,” I gnawed on my bottom lip, turning to look out of the front windscreen at all of the other parked cars. “I mean, what about hunting? We have jobs to do, I can't just bail on people - bail on you. (Y/n) Doesn't need that sort of chaos in her life, not now that she's got Levi. And I won't bring the hunters life anywhere near him. Fuck, Sammy, what am I going to do? I can't stick around, but I can't leave. FUCK.”

“Dean.”

“Why does this have to be so complicated?”

“Dean.”

“I'm going to end up ruining their lives and-”

“DEAN.”

“What?!”

“Just shut up. Do you hear yourself? You're overthinking shit that doesn't matter right now.”

His abrupt words ceased the hurricane in my brain, slowing both my thoughts and my rapid pulse. I even released the steering wheel from my white-knuckled grip. I replied to him, my voice slower and less panicked.

“But it's important, I need to figure it out.”

“It is. And you can - with (Y/n). You don't have to figure all of this out by yourself, Dean. You can make those decisions together. You guys are a team now, so you can't go off and decide these things on your own.”

I found myself nodding slowly, letting his words sink in. Taking a deep breath I leant back in my seat and ran my hands through my hair before dragging them over my face. I thought for a moment; calmer, quieter thoughts this time as I mulled over what Sam had said. He was right. I needed to talk to (Y/n) before making any decisions. Any stupid decisions that I know she would prevent me from making - like she used to. I huffed out a long held breath, twisting in my seat to face my younger - wiser - brother.

“Yeah, you're right. Look, I'm sorry for freakin’ out, I don't mean to… it's just- this is crazy. I mean Sam, I have a kid. ME. Of all people.”

Sam's eyes softened, his puppy-dog glimmer returning with a small smile.

“It's so crazy. I mean I never thought I'd get to be an uncle! But Dean… this is something good. All the shit we've seen, that we've dealt with and put up with - you especially - you deserve this. Embrace the shit out of this.”

I returned his smile in kind, a warm, fuzzy feeling I wasn't used to filling every fibre in my body.

“Yeah, I will.”

(Y/n)’s POV

Evening was drawing in, the sun starting to set as it neared 6:30 pm. Levi was busy tidying his room as I cleaned the kitchen, the small room bathed in a pink and orange glow. The sunset was calming as night slowly crept closer, the feeling of fall crisp in the air as the sun started to lower in the sky. As I dried the final dish from dinner and returned it to the cupboard I heard a rap at the door. I'd barely acknowledged it when Levi's footsteps came thundering down the stairs.

“Dad's here!” his giddy exclamation bouncing off the walls and bringing a smile to my lips.

“Well, go and let him in then!”

He practically leapt over to the door and unlocked it, swinging it open just as I stepped around the corner. There Dean stood with a happy smile and clean shirt, leaning lazily on the doorframe. His eyes lit up as soon as he spotted Levi.

“Hey there kiddo!” Dean ruffled his sons hair.

“Hey dad! What movie are we watching?”

Dean laughed.

“Why don't you let me come in first, huh? I need to say ‘hi’ to your mom.”

At the mention of me his eyes flicked up to meet mine, the sudden connection catching me off guard as his grin twitched upwards slightly.

Levi stepped back and let Dean in. It was a very rare occurrence for us to have a man in the house, and I couldn't stop the small flutter in my chest at the sight of Dean standing in my small living room. He dominated the space, his rugged exterior a little out of place in our domestic setting. Levi shuffled off to sit on the couch whilst Dean took a few slow steps over to me, his long legs swallowing the distance.

“Hey,” his voice was low and soft, his smile not leaving his lips.

“Hey,” I smiled back, pulling my soft cardigan around me. I took a step back into the kitchen, Dean following suit. “Coffee?”

“Coffee sounds great,” the grocery bag he'd been carrying was placed on the kitchen counter as I filled the coffee machine with water. Watching out of the corner of my eye, Dean observed his surroundings, looking at where we lived - where his son grew up.

“Nice house,” the low softness of his voice was still present.

“Thanks - I'll give you the grand tour later if you like?” I turned the machine on and spun to face him, and I watched as he leant comfortably against the counter with his arms crossed over his chest.

“Yeah,” he said, “I'd like that.”

There was a pause in the conversation as we took a moment to look at each other. Really look, as it felt like the whirlwind afternoon we’d had took away our ability to really see each other. I'd been aware of his unchanging fashion and his handsome face, yet I'd forgotten about the soft sun-kissed freckles that dotted his nose, now fading as fall dawned and the sun weakened. I let myself reminisce over those forest-green eyes, how the swirls of jade and golden hazel had entranced me all those years ago. Given the chance, they'd succeed again. His hair was the same soft brown, memories of combing my fingers through those short strands as he slept quickly resurfacing. And those lips. I daren't look at them for the fear of staring too long and getting caught, yet the thought of that plushness against my own mouth had my own lips tingling. I tried my best to hold his gaze and when my eyes slipped to his mouth for a split second, I knew he'd seen it.

He reached out and took my hand, his rough palms gliding gently over my soft skin and squeezing gently.

“I know I said it earlier, but it's really good to see you, (Y/n).” Deans voice stayed low, but it harboured a gravelly undertone that told me that maybe, just maybe he wanted to say something else - something more. When he didn't, I squeezed his hand back, fighting the instinct to lace my fingers with his like I used to. Like when we used to lay under the stars in the field behind my parents house and talk for hours about everything and nothing all at once. Like when he'd lay me down in the backseat of his car and make love to me in the ethereal glow of the moonlight.

“You too Dean,” I said, my voice barely above a whisper. With a final smile I released his hand, my own instantly feeling cold. The bubble of warmth and familiarity surrounding us slowly dissolved, Dean eventually clearing his throat and standing up straight. He looked at me again, this time without the nostalgia in his eyes.

“Hey uh… I don't suppose you'd be ok with Sammy coming by? It's just he really wants to meet Levi and I feel bad for ditching him earlier for hours. Plus he-”

“Dean it's more than ok,” I chuckled at his pleading and his desperation for justification. “Sam is more than welcome to join us tonight.”

A tension that I hadn't noticed before was quickly released from his shoulders.

“Are you really sure? I feel like-”

“Dean?”

“Yeah?”

“Be quiet. I would love for Sam to meet Levi.”

He grinned a little at my quiet assertiveness, looking down at his boots.

“Ok, well thanks again though sweetheart. He would've suffered a fun packed night of research and cheap beer in the motel room otherwise,” his teeth flashed with his humorous grin. I returned it before a thought crossed my mind, my eyebrows knitting together.

“Wait, are you guys staying in that seedy motel across town? The one where the janitor looks like a serial killer?”

“Yeah, to be honest it's not the worst place we've stayed in. The Dahmer look-alike creeps me the hell out though.”

I pondered for a moment, taking a lot less time than I should've before opening my mouth.

“Do you… do you guys want to stay here? I mean I have a couch and a spare camp bed. It's not much but at least you won't get murdered in your sleep. Plus I have unlimited coffee and bacon for breakfast.”

I almost cringed as the words left my mouth, kicking myself for practically trying to convince him to stay. Dean looked a little stunned at the proposal, taking slightly longer than I would've hoped to make a decision. I could've smacked myself. “I'm sorry, that's probably the last thing you want, being surrounded by boring domestic life when you have a job to do. Don't worry about it, forget I said any-”

“That would be nice.”

“Wait, what?”

“It would be nice to stay here. With both of you. I'd like that.”

The relief exited my body in a poorly concealed exhale.

“Do you need to run it past Sam first?”

He shook his head.

“Nah, to be honest I think Dahmer 2.0 freaked him out the most, he'll be happy to get away.”

It took all of about half an hour for Dean to jump back in the car, drive across town to the motel, pack their things and drive back home. When he knocked on the door a second time, he had Sam on his heels looking a mixture of elated to be here and really don't want to intrude. Levi was ecstatic to discover he had an uncle as well as a dad, and I was almost grateful for the attention to be directed away from myself for once. It's always been me and him against the world, but being a single mom to a pocket tornado was hard fucking work, and it was a breath of fresh air to be able to sit down on my own couch and drink my coffee in peace.

Dean had insisted on watching Mothra Vs Godzilla despite Levi's hesitation to watch such an old film. Dean won him over eventually with promises of ‘pop culture enlightenment’ and he now sat sandwiched between his two new favourite people - dad and uncle Sammy. The amber glow from the sunset slowly faded to indigo shadows, the only light now in the living room was from the TV and a few scented candles dotted around us. Around an hour into the film I looked over and saw Levi's head resting on Deans shoulder, eyes closed and chest rising and falling with slow, steady breaths. Dean happened to glance up and our eyes locked, an adoring smile on Deans’ face as he looked between me and his soundly sleeping son. So as not to wake him, I pointed to Levi then pointed to the stairs, gesturing to Dean to carry him up to his room. He caught on to what I was asking of him and he manoeuvred his large arms under Levis shoulders and legs, lifting him with an ease I was slightly envious of. Levi was tall, much like his father and uncle, and with being tall came the title ‘big for his age’. He’d reached that point now where I was unable to lift him more than a few centimetres off the floor, and the thought sent an unusual pang of emotion through my chest. Which emotion, I wasn’t sure… Perhaps it was longing? Longing for the clock to rewind back to when he was just a few years old and I could still carry him everywhere on my hip. Maybe it was dread, knowing that he’s growing up so fast and I feel as though the last nine years have passed by in a blur, despite the fact that I’ve barely been able to keep my head above water. Or maybe, just maybe, it was simply the sight of a man such as Dean Winchester looking down at his own child in his arms with such a look of total, unfaltering adoration that my heart was swelling beyond its usual capacity for such affection.

I stood with Dean and headed up the stairs in front of him, leading the way. There were only three doors to choose from once you reached the top of the stairs; my room, the bathroom, and Levis room. And Levis room wasn’t hard to miss, with its poster of ‘types of classic cars’ pinned to his door along with a makeshift name sign that we made together when he was around five. I pushed the handle and opened the door, slipping in first so I could throw the covers back on his bed. It was a swift ordeal after Dean laid him on the soft mattress and I tucked the covers around him. We both left the room and I closed the door quietly behind me, both of us heading back downstairs quickly so as to not risk waking the sleeping kid.

“Well, that is much easier with two people,” I said with a chuckle on my breath as I descended the last few stairs. Before I gave Dean a chance to say anything in response, I stepped into the kitchen, not wanting his reply to make that heavy pang appear in my chest again. “Beer?” I asked, opening the fridge and retrieving a cold bottle.

“Absolutely,” he stepped over to me with his hands buried in the pockets of his jeans, a lazy smile on his lips. I handed him two bottles, knowing he’d give one to Sam. Who, of which, was still sitting on the couch watching the movie.

“So,” I started, looking up at Dean as we slowly made our way back to the living room, “how do you boys normally spend your evenings?” I tried my best to hide my almost playful smirk behind a swig of my beer.

“Now ain’t that a question,” his expression mirrored mine as we both slumped down onto the couch again, much closer together this time now that Levi was counting sheep. Dean handed his brother a beer, barely looking at him as his eyes never left mine. “Oh, you know, the usual,” he started, leaning back against the plush cushions, one arm slung over the back rest and tauntingly close to my shoulders.

“Oh? Feel free to enlighten me.”

“Well, it’s normally spent working on a case, so… researching lore, or on the road, or burning shit that I really hate having to burn. Maybe we’ll go out for drinks, but uh, that’s a rare occurrence.”

I laughed a dry laugh, raising my bottle.

“Amen to that, I’ve not been out for drinks in ages. Not proper ones, at least.”

Dean looked away from me and down at his bottle.

“Huh...”

“What?” I raised an eyebrow at him.

“Nothing, just… I would’ve thought you’d be going on dates and getting taken out for a good time. Like, a lot. ”

I couldn’t help but scoff at his comment.

“Dates these days are few and far between. And good dates are practically non-existent,” I paused, debating giving Dean the gory details before my mouth started working of its own accord. “I got taken out the other day by a guy who drinks kale smoothies and lives in boat shoes… tried to convince me that the church he belongs to is totally not a cult. I mean, he paid membership fees. And signed an NDA. Who does that?”

Dean held my gaze, as though searching for something that he didn’t even know he was searching for.

“You chose to see a guy like that? Dear God, your taste has changed,” his words were meant to be humorous but there was a subtle bite to them. Or maybe I'd imagined it?

I shook my head.

“No way, he was definitely not my type. It was a blind date, and if it wasn’t a blind date, it wouldn’t have happened.”

We both took a swig of our beer.

“I’m surprised,” he said suddenly, “I would’ve thought a girl like you would’ve been swept off her feet by now.”

“Oh, I was,” my words spilled out before I could stop them, “but that was nine years ago and I’m pretty sure he’s moved on.”

It took a breath of silence between us and a pitiful smile from me for Dean to catch on to what I’d said, his eyes widening slightly. He didn’t get much opportunity to reply, however, as Sam stood quickly. I’d almost forgotten he was there, but I'm glad he was as it drew Deans attention away from the red heat rising to my cheeks.

“Hey, uhhh, I’m just going to run to the car and grab our stuff,” he said, jabbing his thumb towards the front door. “(Y/n), when I come back in would it be ok if I used your dinner table to do some research?”

I nodded before speaking again.

“Yeah of course, be my guest. But isn’t it a little late to start doing all that work?”

He flashed a small, almost knowing smile to both myself and Dean.

“Not for us it isn’t. Plus I just… I just really like lore.”

Dean practically spat his beer back into his bottle.

“Really?” he asked his brother with a quizzical expression, “that’s the excuse you’re going for?”

Sam shrugged.

“No excuse. I’m just dedicated to uhhhh, to learning about… ghosts. It’s a real passion.”

“Aw geez,” Dean shook his head.

“Am I missing something here?” I spoke up finally, shooting them both questioning looks.

“Nope, just my little brother is being an idiot.”

Sam just shrugged, oozing with amusement before leaving out the front door to the car.

I blinked away the confusion, however my face must've given away the fact that I still had no clue what had just occurred between the two brothers, because Dean came to my rescue.

“Don't overthink it sweetheart, Sam's just being a pain in my ass.”

“I don't think I'm ever going to understand the secret handshake language you guys have. I feel like you have to be part of the ‘Winchester Boy Scouts’ to get the handbook for that one.”

Dean laughed, the sound pleasant and carefree as he drained the last few drops of beer from his bottle.

“Sam's definitely more of a boy scout than I am.”

“Whatever you say, Winchester.”

He leant forward and placed his empty bottle on the coffee table before turning in his seat so he faced me more.

“So, apart from childcare and Scientology weirdos, what else have you been up to?”

I couldn't stop the amusement from taking over my face at Dean's question.

“You know, you seem very interested in my life for someone who probably forgot I even existed until this morning.”

Deans expression fell slightly and he looked away, like I’d struck a nerve. When he looked up again, there was something simmering in his gaze, and I wasn't sure if it was pain, regret, guilt, or something else entirely. When he spoke, his voice was thick and low.

“I never forgot about you. Not once.”

My breath caught in my throat and my heart stumbled. When I opened my mouth to say, me neither, he carried on before I could get the words out.

“I tried calling in on you once.”

“You- you did?”

He nodded, slowly.

“I was near your parents' place about three years ago and I stopped by, hoping to see you again. Get your phone number and maybe stay in touch - properly this time. But when I got there, your parents didn't look happy to see me,” an almost pained laugh spilled from his throat. “Now I get why.”

I reached out, placing my hand reassuringly on his arm. My own emotions started to spiral. Slowly at first, a combination of pure relief that Dean never forgot. He even remembered where my parents lived, which coloured me very impressed. The other emotion, which was now growing in the pit of my stomach, bubbling and burning was anger. Rage. My parents knew that Dean was Levi's father the moment I fell pregnant, and it was no secret that they held a strong dislike for him, yet I never pinned them petty enough to let their animosity towards him interfere with the chance to set things right. For their grandson to know his father, and maybe, just maybe, act like the family they so desperately wanted their daughter to have. The saddest part was that, even though I was undeniably furious with them, I wasn't surprised.

“Dean, I'm so sorry, they never told-”

“Don't apologise for them, (Y/n). I knew from the moment I saw you today that they never passed on the message.”

My reply was quiet, the hot fury quickly simmering down to cold disbelief towards my own family.

“You're right, they didn't.”

“They told me that you'd moved on. That you had a good job and a husband, and that… and that you resented me for leaving.”

“Fuck. Dean, none of that is true. I have a mediocre job at best, I'm certainly not married - never have been and probably never will. And Dean,” I moved my hand from his arm and slipped it into his warm palm, “I do not resent you.” I offered him a reassuring smile which he returned, tension quickly leaving his shoulders. Squeezing his hand, I continued, “If anything, I should say thank you.”

“Why would you thank me?” He looked puzzled.

“Because you've taken this surprisingly well for a man of your… calibre.”

He looked as though he didn't know whether insulted or flattered.

“Of my calibre?” He repeated, learning back slightly.

“Well, yeah. In just shy of twelve hours you found out you had a son with someone you've not spoken to in almost a decade, you met your son, took him from Motocross straight to get ice-cream, then brought a movie and popcorn around that very same evening. For someone with an entire armoury in the trunk of their car, I didn't expect… I didn't expect this… I didn't expect you.”

“Didn't expect me?”

I smiled, that warmth appearing in my chest again.

“You're a natural father, Dean. You've made everything easy today, and I'm grateful. So fucking grateful, because over the years I've spent near enough every night laying awake, imaging Levi finally meeting you. And I braced myself for every reaction - every scenario - that you could've thrown our way. So, thank you. I mean it. And thank you for believing me.”

“Believing you?”

“Yeah, for believing me when I said he was yours. I think most guys would've demanded a paternity test, especially after all this time,” I couldn't stop myself from picking the sleeve of my cardigan, anxiety creeping in at the thought that he still might ask for one. However, Dean simply shook his head.

“I trust you, (Y/n). I know you're not the sort of person to lie about things like that, so I believe you. Plus…” his eyes shone with something akin to pride, “ you can't tell me that he's not mine. That's a Winchester attitude through and through.”

We shared a laugh. A light, easy laugh that had me looking at him in that overly familiar way. In the same way that would make my heart skip beats in my chest. I simultaneously felt like I knew him like I used to - that we still had that connection, that bond that made it so easy to be around each other. To feel for each other. On the other hand, we’d spent so much time apart, living completely different lives and getting by in such different ways. He'd had adventures, experiences that I would probably never be able to comprehend, and through all of that I'd been here; living in a two bedroom house in a quiet cul-de-sac in a town far too similar to Stars Hollow than I'd like to admit. I went to work, did school runs, went grocery shopping and grabbed coffee with my best friend in the same fucking café practically every day. And last I remembered, Dean was balls deep in credit card fraud. I wanted to make this work so fucking desperately that it almost hurt. I wanted Levi to have his dad around, to have those experiences boys thrive off with their fathers. I don't expect Dean and I will ever live under the same roof or even be together again, but I'm pretty damn sure that we can be friends, and that is something that would rock Levi's world.

The sound of the door opening and closing startled me from my thoughts as Sam let himself back into the house, sliding the locks and chains into place before turning to face us. He carried two duffle bags, dropping one beside the couch and taking one with him to the table, placing it down carefully so as not to make too much noise. He unzipped it and pulled out a laptop and a small stack of books, holding them up for us to see, like a prize.

“I just… fucking love ghosts,” his tone was unconvincing yet he grinned like he knew something we didn't before taking a seat and getting to work. Dean and I shared a look before erupting into laughter, trying painstakingly hard to keep quiet.

“Is your brother from a different planet? Wait no, scratch that, you're both equally as strange as each other. Earthlings or not, you're certainly cut from the same cloth.”

Dean feigned hurt with a hand on his chest yet the grin never left his lips. He muttered a few things about Sam picking his moments before standing from the couch, jabbing his thumb towards the kitchen green eyes on mine.

“Another beer?”

I felt my grin stretch further across my face, my heart doing a little dance at the way he looked down at me, like he just wanted to sit and talk about everything and nothing all at once - just like we used to. I nodded, trying not to let the way the soft glow from the candles in the room made him look like ‘a night well spent’.

“Yeah, I'd love another beer.”

Next Chapter: Chapter 5

Taglist: @suckitands33 @jackles010378 @megara0224 @libby99hb @roseblue373 @hobby27 @calibootsgirl @lyarr24 @autistic-gothic @wattpaduser200 @spndeanwinchesterlvr @mxtansy @magssteenkamp @redmaro86 @slut-for-evans-stan @spookyysinsanity @localjisung @king-of-milf-lovers @xshortputax @jerksbitch @multifandoms-saidwhat @deans-baby-momma @writersxxx @rox2008 @jeysbae @ladykitana90 @proudbisexual @ladysparkles78 @elenasalvatore1 @bxtchboy69 @saemiau @lilithlunastark @kazsrm67 @chriszgirl92 @riah1606 @impala67rollingthroughtown @berryblues46 @aylacavebear @xx-spooky-little-vampire-xx @whichwitchwanda @pillowjj @iloveyou2mia

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hysteria-things · 10 months ago

Text

SECRET'S OUT (part two)

read part one here

𝐩𝐚𝐢𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠: chris x reader

𝐬𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲: nate’s still upset about what happened, but he has to get over it eventually.

𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬: FLUFF, that’s it :)

𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭: 657

𝐚𝐮𝐭𝐡𝐨𝐫'𝐬 𝐧𝐨𝐭𝐞: part two yay!

no beatings took place, thank god.

currently, you’re awkwardly eating lunch at the dining table with nate. it’s been a few days and he has said some words here and there, but he can barely look you in the eyes.

which is understandable, because walking in on your best friend balls deep in your little sister was not a fun sight to see. “how long has it been going on?” he asks out of the blue.

you look up from your plate, seeing him twirl the pasta on his fork. “two months.”

his body tenses, but he nods. “so you guys are just hooking up? no feelings?”

“no,” you say truthfully. that causes nate to finally look up at you, gaining his attention. “we want to start moving along in the relationship phase.”

he’s quiet. you feel bad, but you want to communicate to make amends. it’s silly to have a grudge like this. “you like him.” he doesn’t ask, he says it as a fact.

“i do.”

“does he like you?”

“i sure hope so.” you laugh, trying to brighten the mood. “he’s taking me on an official date tonight to the movies, then he’s coming here.”

“cool.” he sighs. you frown at his dryness, but he notices instantly. “i just don’t want to see you get hurt.”

“you know him better than me, nate. tell me, do you think he’ll hurt me at all?”

he shakes his head. “chris is a good best friend.”

“exactly, and you’re a good brother. at least try to talk to him, okay?” you get up from your chair to throw away the paper plate, going over to nate and giving him a hug around the shoulders.

despite the recent events, chris asked you out officially the other night. he told you that nate still hasn’t spoken a word to him, and you want that to change.

“we could’ve taken an uber. i feel bad that you have to drive.” chris says for at least the third time. you smile at him as you park the car in the cinema parking lot. “it’s fine, i promise.” you reply.

you guys walk into the theater, and get your tickets and popcorn (that chris pays for even though you told him not to.)

he has his pinky around yours as you guys walk to the assigned theater the employee tells you to go. “i’m really sorry about nate.” you blurt. “i talked to him at lunch and he seemed… better? i don’t know.”

chris chuckles. “i’m not worried about him. he’ll come around.”

the two of you enter the theater and take your seats. he takes you by surprise with a kiss on the cheek, but you blush anyway. “i swear.” he says, squeezing your hand tighter.

sibling🧍🧍‍♀️

tell chris i want to talk to him when he gets here

nate sent that text when you were driving, and now you and chris are staring at it as you sit in the car in the driveway. “oh boy.” chris exhales and you giggle.

you guys get out of the car and head inside, your brother sitting on the couch watching TV. he turns his head when he hears the door shut.

he pauses the TV and gets up, walking in front of chris. it feels kind of intimidating.

he clears his throat. “i give you my blessing.”

you and chris side-eye each other at the word choice, trying not to laugh. “just don’t be an asshole, and when you guys go hang out upstairs don’t… ew. at least not when i’m in the house.” he pauses to look at your sniggering faces, but he smiles. “please.”

nate extends his hand so chris can take it, and he does. “deal.” chris says.

he lets you be and goes back to watching TV while you start to go upstairs.

chris looks over at you, who’s already looking at him. “told you he’ll come around.”

𝐭𝐚𝐠 𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭!

@bunbunbl0gs @lexisecretaccx @thy-mission @angelic-sturniolos111 @sophssturn @mattsneezing @janiellasblog @blahbel668 @meg-sturniolo @hearts4chris @mattslolita @sturnbaby @imwetforyourmom @tillies33ssss @bernardsgf @ilovechrissturniolosposts @braindead4l @sturnifyed

#chris sturniolo #matt sturniolo #nick sturniolo #christopher sturniolo #matthew sturniolo #nicolas sturniolo #sturniolo x reader #sturniolo smut #sturniolo fanfic #sturniolo imagine #sturniolo fluff #chris sturniolo fanfic #chris sturniolo smut #matt sturniolo fanfic #matt sturniolo smut #chris sturniolo fluff #matt sturniolo fluff

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blueicequeen19 · 1 year ago

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Hi, my love. I’m here with a request and a spicy lil thought. Jealous!Rafe marking his territory on Fem!Reader and not holding back in the slightest. I’m talking degradation, humiliation, spit kink, choking, you name it, I want it all. I can’t wait to see what you and your beautiful brain comes up with!

Warnings: all of them - dubcon?, public humiliation, spitting, choking, dry humping, degradation, party scene

Rafe’s jaw ticks as he watches you. You know you’ve fucked up. That’s your problem. Always too nice. So when the sweet guy at the party gets too friendly, too touchy, and too in your personal space, you know your punishment will be severe just by the look on Rafe’s face. You grab Rafe’s drink and brush past the guy, making your way over to Rafe with your head down.

You offer it to Rafe but he shakes his head, glaring at you with murderous blue eyes.

“Drink it.” Rafe demands in a low voice that goes straight to your core. You gulp, eyeing the whiskey in the glass.

“Rafe..”

“Get on your knees and drink it.” Rafe bites out, widening his legs as he leans further into the chair. You look around, meeting the cocky grins of Topper and Kelc before facing Rafe again. Your knees shake as you lower yourself to the floor, your cheeks heating with humiliation. You throw back the drink, the whiskey burning all the way down your throat and into your belly.

“Good girl.” Rafe praises, making your cheeks burn brighter. He leans forward in his chair, resting on strong forearms with a devilish smirk.

“You want to act like a bitch in heat and flirt with every guy here, I’ll treat you like a dog. For the rest of the night, you’ll stay on your knees.”

“But Rafe—.”

“Does my dog need a bone? Want me to shove my cock down your throat?” Rafe taunts, raising a challenging brow at you as his friends snicker. You sit back on your heels, willing yourself to remain silent.

“That’s what I thought. Keep your mouth shut and sit there and look pretty for me.” Rafe bites out, leaning forward to untie the strings on the front of your dress to reveal your prominent cleavage. You clamp your mouth shut as he slides his hands inside the cups of the dress to give each of your breasts a squeeze.

“These are nice, baby. Let’s show everybody.” You don’t get time to object before he yanks the thin straps down your shoulders, revealing you to his friends and anyone who walks by. You fight back tears of embarrassment as they gawk at you, your nipples hardening painfully.

“What’s wrong, baby? You wanted another guys attention. Now you have all of it. Every guy here is getting to look at your beautiful tits.” Rafe says in that condescending, mocking voice of his before leaning back in his seat to stare at you. A single tear slides down your cheek but Rafe catches it with his thumb and brings it to his mouth.

“You know your tears don’t work on me. I love it when you cry.” Rafe smirks, leaning back in the chair and letting you see the massive bulge in his pants.

“Rafe.. please..”

“Crawl towards me. Ass in the air.” Rafe demands, narrowing his eyes at you in frustration. He didn’t tolerate your disobedience. You lowered yourself to trembling hands as you crawled the few feet it took to end up between his legs. The cool air reached between your thighs as you made sure to do as he said, your ass and pussy practically on display for everyone else.

You looked up at Rafe through your fake lashes as he leaned forward, gently sliding his hand into the back of your hair and tugging back.

Your lips part on their own and Rafe takes the opportunity to spit directly in your mouth onto your tongue. Someone chuckles nearby but you’re too frozen in place to move or protest. Rafe does it again and heat crawls up your neck as his warm saliva coats your tongue.

“Swallow.” Rafe says in a low warning voice that shouldn’t be sexy. You obey, humiliation by the act and how wet you were.

“Now take out my cock and suck it.”

“But—.” Your eyes dart from side to side, a party still in full swing around you but Rafe tightens his hold in your hair, making you whimper.

“Choke on my cock or get out.” Rafe spats, his handsome face morphing into an angry scowl. You didn’t want to leave and you weren’t sure if this was a test or not. Would he come after you if you refused? Or would he replace you? Another snicker comes from his friends and your face beats further with humiliation.

“You know what, I have something better. I want you to ride my boot. Get yourself off on my laces like the desperate bitch you are.” Rafe smirks. Dread fills you because some how that is worse than sucking him off in front of all these people. Now he wanted you to dry hump him.

“Rafe—I—.” His hand finds your throat, bringing you in for a quick peck on the lips that leaves you hungry for more as he slips his foot between your parted thighs. His presses the laces against your slit and you whimper, hating your bodies reaction from the slightest bit of attention he gives.

“Make me happy and I’ll reward you.” Rafe murmurs against your lips, encouraging to move on your own in search of friction from his boot. Someone curses and there’s the sound of a zipper but you refuse to look, focusing on the feel of Rafe’s lips. “That’s my girl. Show all these people what a good slut you are for me. Make them all jealous.”

#smutwarning #outer banks smut #rafe x reader #dark rafe cameron #rafe cameron #rafe imagine #obx2 #outer banks x reader #rafe cameron smut #dark!reader #dark!rafe cameron #tw dark content

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jaylver · 2 years ago

Text

YOU ARE IN LOVE — S.JY

SYNOPSIS: one summer. two idiots. what could possibly go wrong? you swore this was finally going to be a memorable summer, one where it'll be filled with adventures just like coming of age movies. but then jake sim just had to ruin it. how so? by taking over your head.

PAIRINGS: childhood bestfriend!jake x afab!reader

GENRE: childhood bestfriends to lovers, angst, romance, pining

WARNING(S): miscommunications, parties, alcohol, profanities

WC: 4.7k

A/N: this has been rotting in my docs for AGES before i even created this account 😭 i wanted to free it so here we are 👹 apologies in advance if it's tacky/lacky writing since this short fic was written when i was starting to get out of my burn out >.< lmk your feedbacks as always! <3

Summer is the best thing to ever happen to mankind.

Trips to the beach, ice cream dates, late night drives, house parties, the list goes on and on. And who else to spend it with? Of course, your one and only best friend and neighbour since you were four years old, Jake Sim.

Every summer was practically filled with him and him only. Ever since you were kids, you did everything together. Writing up lists and going on adventures, spending nights watching movies et cetera. But this summer, it seemed … different.

Maybe it was the problem of being seventeen. Seventeen is an awkward age. Period. But other than that, you couldn't understand the way he was acting.

Summer always started and ended with him. Always. But this summer, he wasn't anywhere near you. Occasionally popping by and disappearing after nightfall, declining late night movies together or beach trips. Rude!

It just felt weird without him. So, you found yourself turning up in front of his house one day, tapping your foot against the hard floor as you knocked impatiently on the door.

"Y/N?" Jake appeared in front of you, his eyebrows scrunched with confusion.

“Jake,” you smiled innocently at him, which only made him look at you with more confusion.

“Y/N it’s 10 pm?”

“I just wanted to see you,” you admitted, to which you cursed at yourself for letting those words escape your lips so shamelessly because it was something you couldn’t deny.

You could see the way his gaze softened, then proceeded to let out a sigh. “Is it … because I barely hang out with you these days?”

“So, you’re self aware this whole time?” you couldn’t help shooting back, wrapping your arms around yourself as the cold wind brushed past. But even without the wind, you felt your body freezing up from the sudden burst of nerves.

“I’m sorry. I’ve been busy,” Jake frowned, guilt evident on his face. “Wanna come in, we can hang?”

Just as he finished his sentence, his phone buzzed, a notification popped up. Your eyes averted to the screen of his phone, catching a slight glimpse. “1 new message from Grace”

Your heart dropped. You knew Grace. Hell, everyone knew her, she was the cheerleader of your school after all. Miss Popular, Miss Crowned Queen. And Jake was texting her? Your Jake?

“So, Grace, huh?” Was this what he was caught up with all along? You mentally scolded yourself, wondering why you were even thinking about this when it wasn’t even your business to care about in the first place. This unreadable feeling was brewing in your stomach and you didn’t like it at all.

“It’s nothing, really. She texted me lately, that’s all,” he shoved his phone into his back pocket, giving you a reassuring smile. “Still up to hang?”

“Nah, it’s fine. It’s getting late anyway. Tomorrow?” You didn’t know why you said this. It was never too late when it came to Jake.

“Sure. I–uhm–heard there’s a party hosted by this guy called Ethan? Wanna come along?”

You considered for a moment, then nodded. “I’m down.”

“Sweet,” he flashed you that goddamned smile, the one that charmed you until you felt light headed. “I’ll pick you up tomorrow,”

“Cool,” you smiled a little, feeling the air turning still for a second once you locked eyes with him. Your heartbeat quickened, it was as though air was sucked out from your lungs and all you wanted was him.

“W-Wanna come over watch a movie with me tomorrow before the party? I’m home alone all day and we haven’t hung out properly for a while now,” Jake offered, stumbling over his words as he fidgeted his fingers, ears turning slightly pink.

You grinned. “How about the new Spiderman movie?”

He let out a small laugh, returning a big grin back. “You know me too well, huh? Deal.”

“See you tomorrow then, Jakey,” you reached over to ruffle his hair, but before you could fully pull away, he took hold of your wrist.

“I’ve missed you, can’t you stay a little longer?” he whined, swinging your arm gently.

You cursed at him, at his words and the amount of butterflies they’ve caused. “You can’t just say things like that,” you murmured under your breath.

“Hm?” he hummed and you looked up at him.

You dismissed your previous words, hoping he didn’t catch on to them. “Tomorrow we’re hanging out the whole day anyway. By then you wouldn’t be missing me anymore,”

“I miss you every day, though. Stick to my side like the old days?”

“How could I say no, Jakey?” you sighed, your heart thumping louder and louder as seconds passed. “Now, go sleep dumbass, we need to wake up early.”

“Alright, alright,” he threw his hands up in defeat. “Goodnight, Y/N. Don’t stay up too late too, or else you’ll get premature wrinkles.”

“I’ll beat you up.”

“I’d like to see you try.”

It felt natural.

You were resting on Jake's chest, his arms around you, a bowl balanced on your stomach, a movie blaring in the background, the lights dimmed. It was natural.

"Peter's pretty dumb sometimes, isn't he?" You spoke up, hand reaching into the bowl of popcorn, feeling Jake's hand brush against yours to get some as well.

You tried to excuse the fact that you were about to choke at the slight contact, playing it cool as you chewed on your popcorn.

"Totally. Why would he even do that?" Jake huffed.

You looked up at him from his chest, admiring his face slightly, not even caring about what misdemeanours Peter Parker was committing.

Jake could feel you staring, and he decided to look down at you, your gazes meeting. This was what you two always do whenever you're watching movies, it should be normal by now, but why in hell were you suddenly nervous?

"Mum wants you to come over for dinner," you whispered to him, reaching up to brush a strand of hair away from his eyes.

"I'm more than glad to do so," Jake pursed his lips, watching your movements closely.

The tension seemed to grow thicker and the movie started to fade into the background as the two of you stayed in this close proximity. You unconsciously glanced at his lips, swallowing thickly once you noticed him reciprocating the same action.

"Y/N-"

"Jake!"

You almost let out a groan, but instead you looked away, clearing your throat and removing yourself from Jake's body. You were absolutely flushed, thinking of the endless possibilities that could've happened. But in the end, nothing did anyway. And that was why you were about to strangle Park Jong Seong for interrupting.

"Jay?" Jake fumbled to sit up, his eyes turning to you before refocusing on Jay. "Is it time to leave already?"

"Duh," Jay rolled his eyes, casually dropping onto the couch beside you. "How are you, Y/N? Been enjoying summer?"

"Quite," you simply shrugged. "Someone over here left me alone after he promised a summer full of adventures," you nudged Jake and he smiled apologetically.

"I got caught up with some things!" He defended but Jay raised an eyebrow at his words.

"Some things or some one?"

"What?" You turned to Jake, trying to mask your disappointment with sheer interest. "Is it Grace?"

"So … you knew?" Jay's eyebrows only raised higher.

"I only found out yesterday, indirectly as well." you said, clearly unimpressed.

Jake rolled his eyes, sighing deeply. "Come on, guys. She only texted me once or twice. I was busy cramming my work, okay?"

"That's true too," Jay nodded in understanding. "You practically procrastinated everything and now it's a pile,"

"Must you remind me of it?" Jake groaned, his attention to you, taking notice of your sudden silence. "You alright there?"

You blinked at him, humming in response. How could you tell him that your stomach churned with jealousy whenever Grace was mentioned? How could you even admit that you're currently harbouring some god forbidding liking towards him? Your childhood best friend? The one who once spilled chocolate milk all over his shirt? The one who cried when he was forced to go back home after a whole day together with you? Jake Sim?

You were fucked. You liked Sim Jaeyun. And you had zero idea what to do about it.

The house party was basically like every other one you've been to. Passed out drunks here and there, the dance floor crammed to the max, the music booming loudly in your ears. Overall, you felt regretful coming here.

What made things worse was Jake abandoning you to talk to Grace. Yup, Grace. Even after all the denial he fed to you and Jay, he's still laughing and talking merrily to her, leaving you stuck in the middle of an unfamiliar house.

What a great Friday night!

It was almost midnight, so you decided to storm out of the house for some fresh air before declaring your leave, but Jake somehow caught you sneaking out.

"Leaving so soon?" He was leaning against the wall, watching your tired figure semi-passed out on the chair.

"God, Jake, you reek of alcohol," you pointed out, scrunching your nose at the stench. "Also, I'm not that inconsiderate. I won't leave you behind … unlike someone over here," you grumbled.

"Look, Grace dragged me away the moment I entered. Plus, I think I got to start avoiding her now," Jake groaned, sitting down next to you.

"Broke her heart?" You assumed. It wasn't uncommon to see Jake reject girls and break their heart growing up. Well, look at him, it was a fact that he got girls lining up for him. But you found it weird how he's never had a long term relationship before, which only made you more wary about your feelings for him.

"I wasn't being a douche about it!" He threw up his hands in defence. "I kindly rejected her, that's all. She seemed cool about it though," he shrugged and you felt his shoulder brush against your arm, his thigh making contact with yours.

"Look at you, all grown up and no longer breaking girls' hearts!" You smiled sarcastically at him.

"Hey! I literally rejected all of them in a nice way. I'm a kind man, you know?" Jake huffed, stretching his body, then proceeded to slyly place his arms around you.

You were genuinely trying your hardest to remain the best poker face you could even manage. Yet, you knew the facade would eventually fade. "Sure, sure, Jakey boy."

He turned his body to face yours, a challenging expression written all over his face. "Do you remember the time when we were five and I gave you my legos? I still remember how many hugs you gave me every day after that. So yes, I am kind." Jake insisted.

"You remembered?" You grinned at him, feeling your heart rate increasing once you saw the fondness in his eyes.

"Of course I remembered," he said softly. "You give good hugs anyway."

"Want a hug?" You chuckled, not expecting Jake to actually dive into your arms and hold onto you tightly.

"You smell like strawberries," he murmured against your skin.

You swallowed thickly and started breathing heavily. "A–are you drunk?"

"Just a bit," he pulled away from your body, his brown eyes meeting yours, his hands slowly travelling up to your face.

"Have I ever told you how pretty you are?" He whispered.

"Don't do this," you mumbled, your hand reaching for his wrist.

"What?" He breathed, his warm breath fanning your cheeks.

"Don't make me fall in love with you completely," you stared into his eyes, slight hurt and regret painted your expressions.

"Fuck, why did I say that?" you laughed pitifully at yourself, removing yourself from his arms and stood up. "It's getting late, let's go," you said, ignoring Jake's lingering gaze.

"Y/N," he held onto your wrist and you stood rooted to the ground, not knowing what you could even say or do. You felt like an idiot. "W–what did you mean by that?"

"It's nothing," you dismissed his question, feeling yourself sinking into a deeper hole. Jake furrowed his eyebrows, clearly frustrated. The moment he got up, he stumbled slightly and his words slurred. The alcohol has finally seeped in.

"Y/N, come on," he urged, desperation in his eyes. All you could do was sigh.

"I'm sorry, Jake."

So you did what you always do every summer. You ran from your problems and hid from the fact you had lingering feelings for your "best friend".

You found yourself avoiding Jake after that night.

It was ironic how you complained about him disappearing in and out of your life during the start of summer, but here you were, doing the same.

He came over to your house a couple of times, but you chose the cowardly choice of hiding away. All of his texts and calls were half answered.

You hated doing this, you knew it was hurting both you and him. But what could you do? Confess? Well, it was the most obvious way to solve the problem, but you were unwilling to risk a life long friendship with him. Pathetic you were indeed.

The weekend rolled around the corner and you just had to face one demise after another. Jake and his family were coming over for dinner and there's zero chances for you to dodge him this time. Thank you, Universe, you thought sarcastically.

Your palms felt clammy and sweaty as you set up the table. Before this, your mother had specifically requested you to present yourself more formally instead of wearing your typical sweats, so now you were stuck in a black skin tight dress, just appropriate enough to not be deemed as slutty.

"They're here!" your mother announced, clapping her hands in excitement. You, on the other hand, were only filled with nothing but dread.

The door flew open and hugs were exchanged. Your mother squealed happily when she saw Jake and for a moment, you were about to do the same.

His hair was slicked back, only a strand was left hanging in front of his face. He was wearing a formal black suit paired alongside a simple black tie. He was about to be the death of you.

"Y/N." He nodded at you, lips pressed in a straight line.

"Jake." You replied back, hands kept behind your back, trying to conceal the fact that you were actually fidgeting.

"You kids are matching!" Mrs Sim pointed out, laughing delightfully.

You felt Jake's eyes on your body for a tense moment, sensing them scanning you from top to bottom. You met his gaze once he finished checking you out so blatantly, and all he did was smile at you innocently. Jerk. He knew exactly what he was doing.

"Why don't you kids go hang out yourselves?" Your mother patted your arm.

"Sure," Jake shrugged, smoothing out the fronts of his blazer.

"Great!" Your mother beamed, then leaned down to whisper to you. "Don't do anything weird, okay?"

You grimaced. "Ew." Must your own mother put the mental image of you doing something 'weird' with Jake into your mind?

You turned around, practically dashing up the stairs towards your room. And as always, Jake followed you like a lost puppy. Once he shut the door to your room, he faced you with a blank expression, devoid of any signs of what he's about to say.

"So? Are you going to explain why you were ignoring me?" Jake leaned against the door, his hands in his pockets as he stared at you, unimpressed.

"What if I don't?" you replied, sitting on the edge of your bed.

"I'll force it out of you somehow, you know I always get my way," he replied nonchalantly and you only rolled your eyes at him, knowing how he wasn't completely wrong.

Jake seemed to have noticed your silence and decided to break the ice first. "I remembered that night, Y/N. You can't hide away from me forever just because of what you said."

You groaned, burying your face into your hands, completely flushed with embarrassment. "Must you remind me?"

"How can I forget about it when my best friend literally told me she loves me?" He kneeled in front of you, taking your hands in his. "Can't you just tell me how you feel? It's been days and nights since I felt at peace after what you'd said to me. What's worse is that I couldn't even remember it precisely. So please, just make it clear."

"Fine. Jake, I–"

"Y/N!"

You wished you could blow up right this instance. Out of every second, every minute, your mother just had to call you when you were about to come clean about your feelings. If you could, you would've liked to reach for the nearest pillow and scream into it.

"Well … next time, Jakey boy. Dinner calls!"

Before Jake could respond, you exited your room quickly, ignoring your thumping heart as you replayed everything in your mind.

Dinner was awkward.

Parents asking about each other's kids' situations and having deep conversations about life while Jake and you, on the other hand, were avoiding each other's gazes. Not ready to face whatever that had just happened.

You thought your torment was finally over when dinner ended and you found yourself dipping your legs by the pool when Jake silently joined your side, following your actions.

"You okay?"

You turned to look at him, kicking your legs slightly, you felt your shoulder brushing against his, thighs touching. "I'm fine. Just a little tired. Why?"

"Nothing. It was just that you were barely speaking all dinner and I got concerned," Jake pointed out and you shrugged nonchalantly.

"Everything's … complicated these days," you said.

At your words, Jake shifted a little. He knew what your "complicated" meant, it was about you and him.

"What even are we?" Jake spluttered out and you froze beside him, the water temperature suddenly dropping to 0 degrees.

"You really want to talk about that now?" You mumbled, frowning.

"Then when can we even face it? I'm tired of you running away and me being in the dark," Jake argued, turning his body to face you.

"Jake …" you were rendered speechless, your body still, guilt clawing its way into your system. "I just don't think I'm ready yet, okay?"

Jake seemed frustrated at your comment. "Y/N–"

"JAKE!"

It was his mother calling out for him and you heard him swearing under his breath. "Next time, Y/N. I'll wait for you."

With that, he left, leaving you completely dazed. He'll wait?

"Can you please come? They literally have a pool!"

Thursday night you found yourself at peace knowing nothing will ruin your weekend, until Jay's phone call. Being the party goer he was, he's now trying to convince you to tag along to some guy's party.

"What if I said no?"

"I don't take 'no' as an answer,"

"Tough luck, champ,"

"Come on, Y/N," Jay whined. "Everyone is going. I mean, Jake is, and that cute guy you mentioned from school — Heeseung — was it? He's there too. You can shoot your shot!"

You thought about it for a moment as you cursed Jay for being way too convincing. "Fine. Since you asked so nicely."

"I know I could always count on you."

Safe to say the party was going considerably well and you weren't about to leave just after arriving for only a solid 15 minutes. Jay remained by yourself for the whole time, conversing with his own circle of friends while your eyes searched for a specific somebody among the sea of people.

“I’ll go for a dance,” you nudged Jay, trying to get his attention.

“Be safe.” he simply said, but his words were filled with genuinity.

A couple cups of drinks definitely boosted your confidence as you shamelessly swayed your hips to the music playing in the background. The blinking lights blinded your sight, alcohol clouded your thoughts, unknowing to someone sliding close to you. Thankfully, your sixth sense never failed and you turned to meet the gaze of Lee Heeseung.

“Hey,” he casually greeted.

“Hi,” you breathed out, sudden shyness taking over.

“Wanna dance?” he offered and you nodded meekly. “Follow my lead,” he held onto your arms, circling them over his shoulder.

“Is this okay?” Heeseung whispered and you nodded once more.

You couldn’t believe this was happening. The cute guy from school was in fact dancing with you. You let yourself let go as you closed your eyes and swayed along to the beat of the music. This was heaven.

No matter how you tried to shake off that weird feeling, it never went away. You knew someone was staring at you, burning little holes into the back of your head intensely. You opened your eyes, letting them adjust to the startling lights and almost immediately, you locked gazes with him.

Lo and behold, Jake Sim, sitting across the room, his jaw clenched, eyebrows furrowed. He was clearly unhappy about whatever you were doing, and you loved the effect you had on him.

You smiled innocently, leaning close to Heeseung's ear. "I'm going to take a break. See you at school?"

Heeseung grinned at you. "Sure thing. I had fun dancing with you."

"Likewise."

Thankfully, you managed to waddle your way through the crowd alive and made your way out of the house for some fresh air. The atmosphere inside of the house was too heavy and the smell of sweat and cheap alcohol stuck in the air.

"Running away from me again?"

A voice came from behind you and you knew who it was immediately.

"Not everything is about you, okay?" You grumbled, hugging your arms around your body for warmth as you sat down on the front steps.

Jake joined your side, placing his hands on his knees, glancing at you from time to time. “Care to explain why you’re actively avoiding me?”

“I’m not,”

“Liar.”

You remained silent, not knowing what to say next.

“You were dancing real close to Heeseung tonight,” he pointed out.

“Great observation, Sherlock,” you finally dared to turn to look at him. “Can we head back in? I’m craving for a drink,”

Jake only nodded soundlessly, following your movements as you stood up to head back in. You felt bad, guilty even, at the way you’re acting towards your lifelong best friend, but you couldn’t help it, your emotions were basically choking you hard. You tugged on Jake’s shirt, ready to say something.

“Jake—” Just when you two entered, Jake was pulled away, not even sparing a second for you to process, so now you were alone.

“Great,” you mumbled unhappily under your breath, making your way to the drinks in the kitchen. Maybe they’ll console you instead. You genuinely wondered who’d cursed you countlessly whenever you were trying to confront Jake.

To your dismay, the kitchen was filled with drunk teenagers who were all busy mixing their new anecdote for the night. Plan B, not the kitchen.

You left for the living room instead, grumbling in annoyance since you couldn't get a drink. As you were about to turn a corner, you heard voices, very familiar ones and immediately halted your steps.

“You ditched Grace?” Park Sunghoon, the notorious figure skater who everyone was pining for, hissed.

Jake hummed.

“Is it because of Y/N?” Sunghoon asked, an undertone of suspicion laced in his voice.

"I don't like her like that," Jake murmured under his breath.

You froze. This couldn't be happening now, right? Out of any day, any place, it just had to be in a house, in the middle of an ongoing party. To be frank, you've already prepared yourself to face rejection every time you imagined confessing to Jake. But overhearing Jake's negative confession was surely not in your list.

"You're serious?" Sunghoon poked on.

"I don't know, man." Jake sighed in defeat. "Can we not talk about this now?"

You blinked away the confusing feelings you were currently having. Was it anger? Was it sadness? Was it hope? You couldn't tell. All you wanted was to be home, in your cosy bed.

There were many things you were afraid to do in life, such as talking to boys your age, socialising, confronting your crush and so on, but today, right now, you had zero regrets as you continued your steps, walking past Jake.

It was all white noises in your ears and blissful ignorance. Jake was calling after you, trying to reach you, but the crowd only ended up swallowing him whole.

Once you were out of the house, you found yourself finally breathing again, suddenly thankful for the fresh air. But there's a rather unfortunate problem for you, Jake caught up with you.

"Y/N," he breathed.

"Fuck off," you snapped, an overwhelming wave of emotions clawing in your body.

"Listen to me, I didn't mean that," Jake's voice rose unintentionally.

"Yeah? So you're expecting me to be totally fine as if nothing happened?" You frowned. "Well, hi Jake, how was the party? Not good? Why-"

"Stop! Why are you even acting like this?" Jake grabbed ahold of your shoulders, making you stare directly at him as he could tell you were about to flee at any minute.

"Because–" You shrugged his hold away. "I like you, Jake! Ever since we were fifteen. But you were always so clueless to tell. And this summer, you were basically too hung up over Grace to spend time with me, then that night when you said those things to me, do you expect me to act oblivious after that? And today, you said those words … how am I supposed to know how you feel?"

You couldn't tell what Jake was thinking. He practically had a poker face on, seemingly trying to take in everything you've just said. "Y/N …"

"What do you want from me, Jake?"

Jake took a deep breath, his features ridden with frustration as he burst out.

"I want you. Okay? Happy now?"

To say you were stunned was clearly an understatement. You didn't know what to say or act, staring at him with your mouth ajar.

"I–I have liked you since we were kids and I don't think I realised until this summer," Jake went on, clearly rambling in distress. "That's why I avoided you, Y/N. I was scared. I didn't know why I felt like that or what I should do. In the end, I figured it was you. It was always you, no matter what."

"Then have me, Jake."

"What?"

It was one of those moments where it felt entirely out of a movie. Jake could only stare at you wordlessly while you breathed heavily, a million thoughts running through your head and you’ve finally accepted it.

Oh no, you’ve fallen in love.

“Just shut up and kiss me,” you grumbled under your breath, taking his face into your hands and pulling him in for a kiss.

When your lips touched, it felt as if countless emotions and unspoken words from over the years passed through like a connection. It felt right. Jake slid his hand around your neck, pulling you deeper into the kiss. This was absolute bliss.

You put your hand on his wrist, pulling away gently, eyes not leaving one another for even a second. The two of you pant softly, trying to catch a breath from the kiss and you started to shy away, in disbelief that this actually happened. Jake noticed, smiling a little, leaning down to press a gentle peck against the side of your mouth.

“Wanna stay over at mine tonight? I can drive,”

“You already know the answer to that.”

Laying in his bed with the lights off accompanied by the whirring of the A/C played in the background, his arms wrapped around you, the beating of his heart against your back, feeling the steady rise and fall of his chest, it was something familiar yet so new.

You turned around to face him, watching as he rubbed his eyes, stirring awake slightly. It was still dark outside, but Jake couldn’t fall asleep, finding himself treasuring your presence instead. You were brushing loose strands of hair away from his face when a strange look appeared and he spoke, voice sluggish.

"You're my best friend."

Somehow, you understood what he meant and you knew what it was. He is in love.

—

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