#i don’t know if he still uses he pronouns I didn’t see any up on blog so if I’m wrong just clarifying that

[brittle-doughie]

Hey howdy hello again! Wrote the one thing with reader cookie stabbing Burning Spice with a dagger despite having their leg broken off. I’m back about the beast ancients au I was talking about in the first part of that ask, since you didn’t say anything about it, I just assumed you didn’t want to hear about it. No worries, I don’t mind!

Anyways I’ve had a hell of a time hammering out the specifics of what’s going on, as it turns out planning a war is a huge pain in the ass. But I’ll just toss you the more interesting bits and get out of your hair.

For context, the main cookie this all revolves around, Star Heart Cookie, created a barrier to protect her/their kingdom. The caveat to it being that so long as you genuinely don’t want to kill the cookies within the barrier, you can walk in and out whenever you want

(For the sake of this ask, Star Heart is the reader insert and is thus getting they/them pronouns, there’s a different set of cookies meant to be the reader inserts but I haven’t gotten there yet so :p)

So, where to start I suppose.. probably Vanilla. True Vanilla Cookie specifically

Yeah bro is trying to pacifist ending Shadow Milk, and SM is just kind of offended? Bc Vanilla ascended to become the Beast of Totality, and is essentially trying to become the holder of Knowledge without getting the other soul jam. This has, predictably, really messed him up. But he still makes it a point to go on weekly picnics to see Star Heart. (The fact that he doesn’t know whats weakened them so much is driving him insane)

One of the other beasts who can pass through the barrier, Mythril Lily Cookie, also shows up to ensure that Star Hearts barrier holds. Though she is a little very concerned about the fact that no matter what, Star Heart never seems to be getting any better. When she isn’t having picnics or trying to dodge True Vanilla’s game of 20,000 questions, she’s usually coordinating an attack on one of the beasts. Usually whichever one happens to be closest to wherever Dark Enchantress is or is planning to use at the time.

Frostbite Cacao is currently trying to plunge all of earthbead into an ice age so that his friends will gain the same resolve that he has. Well, it’s more like so he can usurp their kingdoms bc he thinks they don’t run them very well, but who’s asking? Side note; he’d also actually be allowed through the barrier if it weren’t for the fact that Dark Choco lives within Star Hearts kingdom. He’s also mega paranoid about the fact that Mystic Flour isn’t attacking him anymore. (We’ll get to her don’t worry)

Toxiberry (still not sure about the name) is having a depression due to lore reasons. But due to the power of being a raging alcoholic, you can’t even tell :DDDD Nah but seriously, she and her army are constantly on the move since she knows Lily is looking for her. She’s also hoping that it lures Pitaya Dragon back so she can try and get them to on her side to hopefully gain the upper hand on Eternal Sugar, who has even more beef with her then usual, again, due to lore reasons (I wasn’t actually kidding about the depression thing btw, that’s definitely there)

Gilded Cheese (has very upsetting reasons why she’s called that) is currently trying to revitalize the desert with her new waterbending abilities :)))) you do not want to know what happened to give her that power, I promise. On the bright side, she can also electrocute things now, so that’s neat. She’s generally the closest to her normal self here if I’m honest. Though she’s spending most of her time bringing water to the desert (very suspicious water) and trying to weedwhack the hell out of Vanilla’s creepy orchids that keep spreading. She would also be allowed through the barrier, but only by technicality, since she’s only trying to kidnap Star Heart to use their power to enhance the soulcheese. (And Smoked Cheese is hoping to use them to usurp Gilded but yk shhh)

Onto the og beasts, none of which are allowed through the barrier, for obvious reasons.

Shadow Milk is very busy pretending like he’s not bothered with what’s going on. He’s free now! Why should he care what the others are up to? (He cares immensely) He’s honestly very concerned with how far True Vanilla is getting with his plans, and is pivoting to something else since he knows his usual tactics won’t work. Which ends up in him sending party after party of warriors to ascend the vines up to the Vanilla kingdom in order to break Vanillas focus to stall for time as Shadow figures out a more permanent solution. At least he’s found a new way to infuriate him, by simply saying nothing at all.

Mystic Flour is in the middle of her own plan, which is to use Cacao’s paranoia against him. So currently she’s waiting at the top of her mountain pagoda for him to inevitably break and go after her. She’s also sent Cloud Haetae Cookie to scout out a new meditation spot closer to the Dark Cacao kingdom to better keep watch on it. And definitely not because Star Hearts kingdom is literally right next door, not that at all, nope, not even a little.

Eternal Sugar is completely incensed and is personally hunting down Holly to the ends of earthbread for the sheer audacity of… the lore reasons (I promise it’ll at least be interesting) Or at least she would be, but most of the time Eternal Sugar looses them (literally how it’s an entire army?) and decides to fall asleep until she senses her other piece nearby again, and then she’s off like a bat out of hell.

Burning Spice, is behaving irrationally, even for his standards, which is saying something. Specifically speaking, he’s… well he’s waiting on the barrier, hasn’t really moved since the Beast War ended. The only thing that does get him to move away is whenever Gilded Cheese is anywhere nearby. He knows she’s gonna keep trying to get in, so he just waits. What he’s waiting for? Star Heart, and their very special ability that they use every single time cookies attempt to go for the barrier. From within the barrier, Star Heart can actually see him waiting for them since their tower is the highest point in the kingdom. That, and that point in the roof is the only clear spot in the barrier, everything else is stained red due to the permanent spice storm that surrounds the place.

And Silent Salt, who isn’t actually on the continent right now. During the Beast War, he spotted something leaving and decided to follow it on the hunch that if he didn’t, things would get a lot worse. Unfortunately, as the one he was following ended up being Longan Dragon, he isn’t going to be able to prevent him from starting shit.

Alrighty then, that’s that, thank you for your time and all of the lovely writing

-ephemeralcryptid

Now that was quite the read.

[junglejim4322]

@ /sheauz is a terf fyi. There's proof on @ /thesituation blog

Well I tried to talk to him privately and he said he doesn’t mind being friends with terfs and then blocked me before I could even respond so there’s your answer I guess

[clockwayswrites]

City Pigeons Bleed Green Part 17

Somewhere in the back of Bruce’s mind, there a voice that was grateful that no one Bruce had slept with had experimented on their own child. With Talia and himself there were already lines that had been crossed, but what Danny had been through was another level of horrible. Which is why that tiny voice didn’t mater.

This wasn’t about Bruce, this was about Danny. Danny who looked ready to bolt again. Bruce reached out and placed his hand on Danny’s still cold cheek.

“Danny, being my clone doesn’t make being my son any less true.”

“That’s not—” Danny’s eyes welled with tears again and he leaned into the touch even as his foot scooted backwards. “That’s not how it works.”

“It does for us. Our family is messy. It’s complicated and confusing and… wonderful,” Bruce said. He spoke slowly both so that his words were clear, but also so that he could find the right words. “It’s a butler and orphans, assassins and demi-gods, sons and daughters and sometimes people who are neither. You being a clone is just one more thing in that mix. You’re still my son, if you’d like to be.”

“You can’t want me, I’m dead,” Danny insisted.

Jason set a pot down, loud enough that Danny’s eyes flickered to him.

“Kid, Danny, that doesn’t mater,” Jason said in a carefully controlled tone. “It’s the same as I’ve said before, they all know I died.”

Danny’s eyes widened, causing the tears to sleep free. He blinked rapidly.

“…Oh.”

-

They’re sat around the living room, each with their own mug of hot chocolate, even Bruce Wayne— even… well, Danny supposed it would be Tim Drake-Wayne, once he had shown up. He had flown through the door as he spoke through gulped breaths of air. He didn’t have a domino on either. They all sipped slowly at their drinks.

They were waiting for him to talk.

Talking seemed an insurmountable challenge.

Danny took another sip of the hot chocolate and licked the sugar sprinkle bat from his lips. He didn’t look at them as he spoke.

“Dick Grayson, Jason Wayne, Tim Drake-Wyane. Cassandra Wayne… Duke Thomas, and Damian Wayne. I don’t know Spoiler or Oracle. I only… I looked up Bruce Wayne on a library computer after I ran. That’s why I know.”

“Close friends of the family,” Mr. Wayne said.

“And ex-girlfriends,” Night— Dick spoke up.

“Right. Red— Tim said him and Spoiler had dated.” Danny mumbled. He glanced over at Hood from under his bangs. Hood… Jason? Hood. Too many changes. Hood hadn’t said anything since he had revealed everything.

He must have noticed Danny looking though, because he sent a melancholy smile Danny’s way. “I get it. We kept a really huge piece of information from you, but we didn’t lie. When we said you had us no matter what Bruce Wayne did, we meant it.”

“But he’s your dad.”

“And that means we're all very good at not listening to him,” Tim said proudly.

Mr. Wayne just gave an amused snort at that.

“Dandelion,” Hood said, ignoring his family, “the first time that you looked up at Red and I we both clocked who you were instantly.”

“Not the clone part,” Red added.

This time it was Danny who gave a little snort.

(Fuck, they even snorted the same.)

Hood just flicked Red off. Tim. “Sure, not the clone part.”

“Because someone wouldn’t let me take DNA,” Tim interrupted again.

“It’s corrupted anyways,” Danny said and suddenly all eyes were on him again. He ducked his head down into a shrug. “From my death. This form I guess it would match enough? But my ghost form wouldn’t be any help.”

“Yeah, I can see that,” Tim said softly. “But also Hood was right, you didn’t deserve us doing that to you right then, even if I just wanted to help. But that doesn’t mean we didn’t know that you came from Bruce. You just came from him in a different way than we thought.”

“You were family right away, kid,” Hood said. “If didn’t matter your name or pronouns or history or if you’ve died or even that you’re a clone. As soon as we got a good look at you, you were family.”

Danny could feel the tears coming again and he wiped at his eyes in frustration. He wanted to just stop crying today.

“You could have been wrong,” Danny said. They didn’t get it, why didn’t they get it?

“Could have. But you were still a hurt kid that needed help,” Hood said.

“You don’t need blood to be family,” Dick said. “Me and Jason and Tim and Cass and Duke… Alfred, none of have blood with each other or Bruce and Damian. If you had turned out to not be related to Bruce at all? Well, you were already family.”

The tears came now and Danny couldn’t stop them. The hot chocolate was taken carefully from his hands by Jason while Dick pulled him into a hug.

“I don’t— I don’t get it,” Danny said through the sobs. “Why can you all— why can you all love me after a month when they— when my— when the people that were supposed to be my parents never did?”

“Danny—”

“They killed me!” Danny roared. He was shaking now and Dick help him tighter. “They made me just to kill me and cut me into pieces! I was their son! I was…. I was their son. Why couldn’t they love me?”

Between one blink and the next Mr. Wayne was up from his chair and in front of Danny. His large hand was so warm on Danny’s cheek. Danny sobbed harder.

“I don’t know, sweetheart, I don’t know because you are so loveable. It’s something wrong with them, not with you. I already know you’re wonderful and I can’t wait to get to know you more.”

Danny didn’t get it.

Danny didn’t believe it yet.

But god did Danny want it.

Danny flung himself forwards, landing in the arms that were waiting to catch him, and let himself cry.

-

“Nose bleed stopped and he’s resting now. Jay is staying in there with him in case he wakes,” Dick said as he closed the door to Danny’s bedroom softly behind him. A sad, wet blue lump was in his other hand. “We’ll try to get his bear dried out, it was in the bag he took.”

“See if the dryer has an air dry setting,” Bruce said. When both sons in the room looked at him in surprise he just gave a little shrug. “Dickie used to play with Zitka outside all the time. I learned to help make sure she was always ready for bed.”

Dickie gave a little laugh. It was heavily tinged with stress, but it was a laugh. Bruce would take what he could get right then. Jay still had a job, so he’d be alright for now. Dick would need to stay busy and close to people, but both those would do most of the work for the moment. It was Tim that Bruce had to worry about the moment; he was being very silent.

“Tim, chum, are you done with your drink?”

Tim blinked up from staring down at said drink. “What?”

Bruce crouched down in front of Tim (trying not to think of how he crouched down in front of a sobbing Danny just a bit ago) and took the mug. “What are you turning over in that head of yours, chum?”

Tim fiddled with his nails now that the mug was out of his hands. Bruce wouldn’t stop it unless Tim managed to make himself bleed. It wouldn’t be the first time or the last.

“Sweetheart?”

“It’s going to take him a long time to believe us— this,” Tim said, the words almost a rush.

Bruce nodded slowly. “That makes sense.”

“And he could run again,” Tim continued, still speaking quickly. “It could all be going well and then suddenly he could be thinking of running again because he’s doubting things.”

“Okay Tim,” Bruce said with careful words. His mind was running through all the times when Tim had pulled away from the family, “what do you think we can do to help that?”

Tim shrugged and looked away. “I guess— I mean, saying things to him is good but it won’t get as far as actions. And those actions need to include making him feeling useful.”

“But—” Dick started, the dryer now rumbling away in the linen closet.

“I’m not saying make him do work,” Tim interrupted. “But until he can consistently believe that we want him in the family, him feeling useful will help give him a reason to stay. As long as he’s useful, he won’t think that there’s no reason for him to stay when he thinks no one wants him around.”

Gently, Bruce reached out and took Tim’s hand away from where his cuticle had started to split and bleed. He pulled out his handkerchief and dabbed at the spot gently. “We’ll make sure to offer him ways to help out. We’ll talk as a family about where the lines will be and what sort of work is alright, especially as Danny is still healing.”

Tim took a careful breath and nodded. “Good.”

“And Tim?” Bruce waited until Tim was looking at him to continue. “I love you and I’m very glad that you are part of this family.”

-

Bruce sent Dick back to the manor after Cass arrived. They talked about what was best and agreed together that for Danny, Bruce still needed to be here in the morning. Bruce knew Dick hated to leave, but he was the other one who could handle Damian and whatever moods this may have invoked. And they were both worried about pulling Jason away from Danny right then.

Once Dick had wrangled Damian, they all had a meeting. Jason joined in with headphones Tim delivered and stayed mostly silent. Alfred lingered behind Dick’s shoulder.

Bruce went over the day, doing his best to treat it like a debrief just so that he could get through it without his heart breaking the rest of the way.

Danny had run of his own volition, afraid that those who had hurt him would find them. He was most afraid of them hurting Jason and Damian. (Dick pulled Damian close). He wasn’t Bruce’s son, biologically speaking, but his clone. They would try, with permission, to take some blood and analyze it soon. There were worries about the state of Danny’s DNA that Bruce wanted them to look into, for Danny’s safety.

There was worry any tests might set Danny off.

Danny knew about their identities, though they did not share Stephanie and Barbara’s name— both girls gave their go ahead. He seemed confused, but alright. They had to be ready for a possible out burst over it later after everything that had sunk in.

They would be sure to give Danny things to do that made him a quick part of the family, Bruce wanted everyone to think what those would be. There was to be nothing that was patrolling or anything dangerous. They would all agree on the list.

When Bruce ran out of things to say, Alfred stepped forward, there as always to help with the next step. “Is there anything specific I should prepare for his room?”

“Blue,” Cass suggested.

“Stars,” Tim said from where he was tucked into Cass’ side. “He likes space. Maybe one of those projectors that turns the ceiling into the night sky?”

“Soft blankets,” Jason spoke, a quiet addition.

“An air diffuser, natural scents like flowers and earth,” Dick chimed in.

“A… a pet,” Damian said, words uncharacteristically hesitant, though he straightened up defiantly at the look of confusion on everyone’s face. “If he is a flight risk, then a pet will be something he stays for. It will also be a responsibility for him that is little effort and not dangerous. Also, when he needs company but the family is… overwhelming, his pet will be there for him. There are many cats and some suitable dogsat the shelter right now, I will take him.”

Bruce’s mouth twitched up in a little smile. “That’s a very good idea, thank you. I’m sure Danny would like your help, after we introduce you two properly.”

Damian nodded, though that slight uncertainty was still there in the curve of his shoulders.

“Dami?” Dick prompted.

“When will I be able to meet him? Properly.”

“How about in a few days, before we move him to the manor, I’ll bring you over with me, okay ayouni? We can bring lunch with us and have a meal together,” Bruce offered.

Damian nodded sharply, a slight smile on his lips. “Acceptable.”

“Good. We will try to have everyone over before we move Danny, which will be mostly on his timetable. For now, everyone get some rest.”

There was a chime of voices agreeing to that and signing off. Bruce made sure he was the last to leave the call.

---

AN: It's... mmm... not great day, so you all are getting this now instead of tomorrow when ao3 updates. Stay delightful, darlings <3

[mooooonnnzz]

I saw your earlier post on Platonic fics and Im a sucker for them so here u go : father figure stanford headcannons maybe takes place after he comes back from the portal, reader is an adventurous spirit that works at the shack and maybe secretly helped stan get his brother back? Idk im just throwing things here lol

You Know I Love You Still

Stanford x daughter!reader

💗 stanford dad hc!!

💗 i literally saw the request it and started writing and got a lil carried away 😭 its like half story half hc? if that makes sense

💗 requests r so open rn! i def dont have any fav requests… (anything platonic or familial will be the first ones i write i LOVE those types of requests)

💗 the age of the reader is young like 16/17? ik that lowkey contradicts with the time line but wtv STANFORD DAD HC!!

💗 it’s a little bit of everything? like it’s not only just reader and stanford, the twins r also included in some scenarios and also stan

💗 a big happy family 😭

💗 fem reader gulp i completely didnt realize until i was done that i used she/her when referring to the reader

💗 next fic will use gender neutral pronouns I SWUEAR!!

💗2k words

💗 i apologize for rhe misspell and mistakes i didnt catch in advance

Working together with your Uncle Stan to build the portal to bring your dad back to the right dimension was tiresome. Nights were sleepless and many of them were spent in the underground lab, where you and Stan did everything possible to assemble the portal. Trying to keep such a secret away from the twins and Soos was unexpectedly hard. The knowledge of hiding someone so vital to you and to your Uncle Stan was weighing down on you and him. Then came the day where his awaited arrival was promised. You could barely sleep that night. You thought of so many different possibilities and scenarios of how you would greet him. Would he remember you? Did he ever miss you? Does he even love you?!

The next day came in like a tornado and before you knew it, you were protectively standing in front of the button; trying your absolute hardest to prevent the twins from pressing the button.

“Why do you guys want to stop the portal so badly!” You yelled over the loud swirling wind that emitted from the portal. “Because it’s dangerous!” Dipper retorted, using his arm to shield him from the debris whizzing past him. “G-Grunkle Stan isn’t who he says he is!” Dipper said, stepping closer to you.

“Whatever you guys saw or heard isn’t what you think it is! Please, you need to believe me.” You begged, your eyes brimming with tears. You’ve worked so hard to get this portal up and running and you weren’t going to let Dipper or anyone stop you from being able to see your dad.

Soos came up from behind and wrapped his arms around you. “I’m sorry, dude.” He picked you up and took you away from the button. “Soos, no!” You thrashed around his hold. You pound your fists against his arms, hoping it’ll loosen his grip on you but nothing you did worked. No matter how much you begged and fought against him, he didn’t budge. He just held you closer to him, muttering ‘I’m Sorry’ under his breath.

“This all stops now!” Dipper raised his hand, palm flattened out, ready to push the button when Stan appeared at the doorway. “Don’t touch that button!”

He’s hunched forward, hand leaning on the frame of the doorway as he pants. Relief washes over you upon seeing Stan. Silence fills the room for a minute and all you can hear is your heart hammer against your ribcage. Stan walks towards Dipper, beckoning him to not press the button.

“If you just let me explain—“ He’s cut off by his watch repeatedly beeping. Suddenly the ground begins to shake.

The portal powers up and the circle enlarges. The electricity spazzes and travels throughout the room, creating streaks of electrical power. Your feet lift off the ground and soon everyone’s floating up in the air. The wind is fierce and it’s whipping through every direction, pushing you towards the wall.

Dipper yells at Mable to turn off the portal before it causes anymore damage. She tugs herself closer to the button using a stray cable and while she wraps herself around the neck holding up the button, Stan is begging her to listen to him and to not press the button. He’s soon tackled by Soos who pushes him away from Mable. They all fight with each other and you’re watching with a bated breath.

The portal pulses with power, sending you back first into the wall. Stan and Dipper bicker back and forth and Mable is torn with the decision of either believing her brother or her Grunkle. She lowers her hand, eyes closed and you're almost convinced she’s going to press the button when she lets go of the button. She floats up with her arms raised. “Grunkle Stan, I believe you.” She says.

“Mable, are you crazy?! We’re all gonna—!”

The world flashes white and you're immediately knocked out. You awaken to yourself plummeting face first down to the floor. You groan, pushing yourself up with one hand and the other wiping off the dust on your face. Looking around you can see your family scattered around the room, each of them slowly waking up from whatever happened and stumbling back to their feet.

Your head quickly whips towards the portal and your heart lurches into your throat upon seeing a figure step out of it. He stands still, staring straight ahead as he takes off his hood and goggles. And what hid behind them was your father.

After the initial shock of meeting the one behind the three books and the reveal of him being related to Stan was pushed aside, you presented yourself with the help of Stan. “H-Hi, Dad.” You awkwardly greet yourself.

His eyes stop on you and he freezes, eyes blown wide and mouth slightly ajar. He takes a minute to process the absurdity of the situation before he’s snapping back to consciousness. He blinks once, his mouth stuttering as he finds the right words to say. He then blinks again, stepping a cautious step towards you. Your name softly spills out of his mouth and your heart soars hearing your Dad finally utter your name again.

You take a step forward and then another and another until you’re face to face with him. Being closer to him allowed you to see how much he has aged since the last time you saw him. “Dad…” You whisper, throwing yourself into him.

A light wheeze escapes his mouth from the sudden impact of your body crashing on him. Once he recovers, his arms are quickly wrapped around you, hugging you with so much warmth and love you almost sobbed right then and there.

He snuggled his face against your hair, breathing in your familiar scent he missed so dearly while he was away. “We have so much to catch up on.” You say so quietly that he almost lost your words if it wasn’t for you being directly near his ear. He hums in affirmation, cherishing the long awaited reunion with his daughter.

“I feel like this is another part where one of us faints again.” Mable says in utter disbelief at the scene that unfolded in front of her. “Ohoh!” Soos laughed out. “I’m so on it, dudes.” As if on command his eyes roll to the back of his head and he faints flat on his back.

HEADCANON TIME!!

• You weren’t really expecting to talk to him much due to Stan wanting to talk to his brother, but after their fight, he came looking for you. When he found you, you were sitting on the couch that was outside on the porch. You were reading a book you recently purchased from the bookstore. Nose deep in your book, you failed to realize Ford standing beside you. His hands were shoved in the pockets of his trench coat. Quietly he asked, “Is there room for one more?”

• The night was spent with the two of you getting to know each other. From your favorite color to your favorite show, what food you like to eat and so on. Ford wanted to fully understand and know you as a person. He wanted to make up all the years he lost with you.

• The next day, you awoke to the smell of your favorite breakfast food being cooked. With haste you pushed your blanket off of you and slipped on your slippers and sped off into the kitchen where Ford was buttering the pan. He looked over to you and flashed you a smile. “I made you your favorite.” He said, motioning over to the table where he laid out your breakfast. “You didn’t have to do this.” You scratched your cheek, a small laugh of surprise leaving you. “I’m just doing what I always dreamed of doing.” He shoveled out his breakfast onto his plate using a spatula. “How’s the food, kiddo?” He asks, placing the pan and spatula on the dirty side of the sink. “Actually pretty good for someone who hasn't been in this dimension for over a decade!” You jest, taking another delicious bite from your breakfast. Ford jokingly rolled his eyes, ruffling your hair as he walked past you and sat down on his chair. “Already poking fun at me.” He said, shaking his head.

• Stanford knew he had to focus on his projects, he had so many things he left unfinished that he'd been dying to get his hands on the minute he stepped foot into his dimension. But he couldn’t seem to pull himself away from you. He loved seeing you interact with the twins, he loved watching how pieces of his personality shone through you. Like the way you’re so meticulous with where you put things, or how you were forever curious about the things around you, and even the abundance of questions you’d mutter to yourself as you discovered something new. That’s all of him right there, in front of him and he couldn’t grasp such a thought that you were his!

• He finds himself gazing upon baby photos Stan took of you when you were younger. Even if he’s angry at his twin currently, he’s forever grateful that he documented such beautiful memories in a scrapbook. “Y’know, I used to tell stories about you to her.” A shriek leaves Ford. He jumps forward, the scrapbook tumbling down his lap and onto the floor. “You idiot! Be careful.” Stan sneered, kneeling down to the floor to pick up the scrapbook. “Stanley!” Ford leans his head back, trying to regain his composure. “You scared me!” He says. “Yeah, yeah. I know.” Stan waves him off, grabbing the scrapbook and tucking it in between his arms. They stand in awkward silence, eyes darting around the place uneasily. “Did…” Ford starts, shattering the silence. “Did she like the stories you told of me?” Stan smiles fondly, nodding his head. “She loved them. She thought you were some stupid amazing superhero, no matter what I told her.” Ford furrowed his brows. “Wait, what do you mean by no matter what you told her?” Stan nervously laughed. “Hey, why don’t you keep looking at these photos! Wait here, look at this one. Haha! She’s trying to eat her toes, isn’t that adorable?” “Stanley.”

• Outings between the two of you were very common. He loved being tugged around the town of Gravity Falls by you as you pointed at various different shops and locations. You told him the reasons why you hated them or loved them, and some were tied to stories that happened within the summer. He seriously questioned how you and the twins survived so many times where you were just so close to death. The mall was a place where you and him resided the most. With the money he took from Stan, he paid for almost everything you wanted. Entering the shack with so many bags was a shock to everyone. “Woah! Did you buy the whole mall?” Mable jokes, grabbing one of the bags to help you with the load. “Basically,” you laughed, instructing Mable to rally Soos and Dipper to have a little haul of what you bought. Stan watched with a raised brow as you stumbled into the living room with Mable following closely behind. “Where did you get all the money to buy her all of that?” Stan asks. “Just stole some money from some hobo.” Ford said, walking into the living room to join in on the haul. Stan didn’t understand what he said and opened the cash register. When he saw all the money he had stored the day before gone, it all clicked.

• Adventures out in the woods is a must. Gathering the twins and your dad, all four of you venture out into the woods in hopes to find something new. “Why couldn’t Grunkle Stan tag along with us?” Mable asked as she kneeled down to pluck a flower from the dirt. “Because he’s being a wet towel.” Dipper muttered, scribbling down a rough drawing of the flower Mable was picking in a book you bought him. “So what kind of anomalies you three stumbled upon?” Ford questioned. You and the twins began to dump everything onto him, from when you started seeing them to when Dipper and Mable came. Ford couldn’t truly focus on what they were saying, mostly because it was a jumbled excited mess of words, but partially because he was astonished with the trio in front of him. They went through so much and yet they’re still so headstrong. He could definitely see a little bit of him in Dipper and Mable.

• Stan would find you and Ford fallen asleep on the couch or in his lab, all huddled up together and completely knocked out. Snores filled the room and he found it amusing that you and him both snores the same. Videos and photos were definitely taken by Mable.

• Ford would tell stories of his adventures in another dimension to you. Stemming from how he started from the ground up to him getting banned from many other dimensions for stealing parts. “You’re not so different from Uncle Stan,” You laughed, shaking your head. “What! It was only a few…hundred dimensions.”

• There’s times where you’d wake up in a cold sweat, afraid that your Dad finally coming back was just a painful dream your brain played on you. But when you would get ready to find him, you’d step on his stomach or back. “Ough!” Ford groaned out in pain. Being suddenly woken up from his sleep, he sat up, looking around confused. “What are you doing sleeping on the floor?” You sat back down on your bed, pulling the blankets over you. “Is there a problem with me sleeping on the floor?” Ford asks, looking at you with squinted eyes. “No, no.” You laid back down on your bed. “Go back to sleep. I’m better now,” You say, somewhat amused with Ford sleeping on the floor beside your bed. “Goodnight, I love you.” You brush your fingers playfully across his face to annoy him. He shoves your fingers away from his face, huffing out. “Goodnight,” He shuffles to his side, looking up to you with a small smile. “I love you more, kiddo.”

[mrderondncefloor]

“anything? that right?”

old!logan howlett x f!reader

summary: you end up in logan’s shop with an oil leak and can’t afford to pay him

wc: 2.3k (i’m in hell the brain rot is BAAAAD)

authors note: plot is very cliche like ik eat me. while writing this i took a break and got an edit of logan to tulsa jesus freak. yes i’ve lost my sanity. also i don’t know shit about shit with cars so yea

warnings/tags: MDNI. dubcon. unspecified age gap. logan is a little mean?? reader has no description besides hair long enough for logan to grab, wearing short skirt. logan grabs readers face. hair pulling. big dick logan (canon). pussy pronouns. spanking. throat fucking. degrading. tears. dirty talk. pet names. daddy kink. fingering. aggressive sex. unprotected sex (wrap it up). cream pie. orgasm denial.

your type doesn’t frequent this place, the auto shop on the edge of a town that’s seen better days. most of logan’s customers he’s had for years, he’d grown used to the faces that come through the shop, greeting people on a first name basis at this point in his career. like hell did he ever expect you. you, who stood behind him when he’s hunched down, working beneath the hood of a truck. he didn’t hear you coming, the radio on his workbench drowning out the sound of your footsteps. “shit,” he hissed, peeling back from the piece of shit he’d spent his afternoon working away at, white beater stained with oil and god knows what else. he paused abruptly when he finally noticed you, drawing in a slow breath. if he didn’t have enough on his plate, here you are. a pretty, young thing. in the thick of the summer you’re hardly dressed in much at all, a little top and a short skirt. “ain’t hear you come in,” the clear of his throat echoes off the walls as he walked towards his bench, wiping his hands with a greased up towel. “can i do for you?” his teeth clamp down on the toothpick stuck out his mouth, an oral fixation to try and keep his mind off smoking while on the job. it hardly worked for shit, nicotine always in the back of his mind. the radio gradually softens, pair of glasses pulled onto the bridge of his nose. “think i have an oil leak?” you sound unsure of it, logan nods, scribbling it down onto a forum he kept for his records. “bring ‘er in. take a look,” his boots thud quietly across the floor, walking past you to pull open the garage door. the wiring had gone out a couple months ago and he’s yet to get around to fixing it, muscles straining as he pulled the door up an over his head. he watched you pull your car in, sighing as you stepped back out. “well.. ain’t even have to look. engine sounds like shit, definitely a leak. i’ll pop underneath anyway, see f’somethin’s loose or if it’s a crack.” he nodded, wheeling his creeper out from beneath the bench with his foot. he tries not to groan as he sunk to the floor, his body too old for this shit. he pushes himself up underneath the car, brow knit in a tight furrow as he took a look around to access the problem. “oil pan has a crack, s’pretty fuckin’ bad. i can change it out for you, take me an hour.. hour an a half at most.” he nods, sat upright, an elbow propped against his bent knee. your expression flashes with annoyance and he thought to himself that you looked like a fucking brat, but god damn did you wear it so well. he fights back with the corner of his lips that threatens to tug up.

logan gathered up what he needed, not paying you any mind as you’re left with not much other choice but to sit and wait for him to finish on your car. dressed like this he figured you had better places to be, but he didn’t give a fuck. you came to him, and the way he saw it was your choices were limited to accepting the help and learning some patience or ruining your car. he’s good at the work he does, it’s why he has so many loyal customers, why he’s been in business so long. he could’ve given you some grief for the look you gave him when he told you about the wait- and he still might. “she’s good as new.” he nodded, sliding out from beneath the car with your cracked oil pan. his chest is slick with sweat, glistening under the dull lighting. he brushed his dirty hands against the thighs of his jeans as he stood, tossing your old cracked pan into the trash as he approached his work bench again, quickly jotting down the work that he’d done. “s’goin’ to be.. nine hundred fifty three. s’for the replacement, fresh oil and that god damn look you gave me earlier.” he nods, dropping the clipboard onto the desk. “take cash or card.” his arms cross over his broad torso, forehead creasing as his brow sunk in. “this is a joke, right?” you ask, scoffing out a laugh as you look up at him though his expression doesn’t let up, unamused. “do i look like m’makin’ a fuckin’ joke, sweetheart?” his jaw is clamped tight, his tone flat, serious. “you can’t charge me for a look?” “i can charge you whatever the hell i feel like. i had other shit goin’ on.. could’ve made you wait a hell of a lot longer.” you scoff out in disbelief at him, shaking your head. “i don’t have nine hundred dollars.” you finally admit and logan’s head dropped forward, a low chuckle coming from his lips. when you didn’t pull out a card he knew this shit was going happen. he saw right through you. “alright so.. let me get this straight, sweetheart. you came here for me to look at your car knowin’ you didn’t have the god damn money to pay for it? is that right?” he lacks sympathy for you, pretty as you were you had another thing coming if you thought you were going to pull a fast one on him. “i might be old, girl, but i ain’t no fuckin’ fool. i tell you what.. no money, no fuckin’ keys.” his voice is low, your keys dangled around his finger and he shoves them down into his pocket. he walks away from you, too god damn angry to be stood in front of you, having wasted enough time on you already. “please, you don’t understand.. i need my car. i can pay you what i have right now and bring you the rest next week, please.” you beg, coming up behind him where he’s hunched over again beneath the hood of someone else’s vehicle, the same one he’d been working on when you arrived. “ain’t my god damn problem.” he muttered, biceps flexing beneath his tanned skin as he tightened a bolt in place. “i’ll do anything.” you plea again and logan slowly stops what he’s doing, looking down at the truck battery he was working at. he sighed loudly, recomposing himself as he peeled back from the truck, walking towards the garage door. he reached up, muscles flexing across his back as he pulled the door shut, closing off the inside of his shop from the street view.

“anything? that right?” he’s standing before you now, looking down at your shorter frame. “anything.”* you repeat in a whisper. he drew in a slow, deep breath as your palm slid over the front of his dirty jeans, stepping closer into you until you’re tucked between him and the truck. he groans when your squeeze your palm around him through the denim, your lips curling up to a sinisterly sweet smile when you tug at his belt. he grabs your face hard, lips puffed out slightly when he pulled you in for a kiss. it’s sloppy, his tongue lapping across your lips before dipping into your mouth, an anger filled hunger. he’s pissed off, but you’re pretty enough that he’d be willing to accept your throat as some sort of payment. he looks down at you as you pull back from his kiss, sinking to your knees. he appreciates that you had no issue getting to the point. “i reckon you must’ve been thinkin’ about this the entire time, sweetheart.” logan mused as you grabbed his cock out from inside his jeans, moaning at the sight of him. “bet you ain’t ever seen a cock that big huh, girl?” the palm of his hand pets against the back of your head as you stroke him slowly, his shaft filling out your small palm. “hands behind your back.” he nods slowly, gathering your hair into his fist, holding the back of your head with a tight grasp. he taps the weight of his cock against your tongue before he lays his base flat against you, slowly pulling his hips back as your warm tongue licked over the veins that protrude from tightened foreskin. “nice an wide.” he mutters, feeding the head of his cock into your mouth, a grunt parting his lips when he brushed the back of your throat. god damn. “you’re goin’ to sit here and take it like a champ. reckon you ought’a think about havin’ my god damn money next time. stupid girl.” he warned you before his hips draw back and roll forward, pushing the length of his cock down the curve of your throat. it’s lewd, the repeated squelch of your throat as he pushes himself inside again and again. “should’a known you’d be this big of a slut when i saw you. cute little fuckin’ outfit, barely wearin’ anythin’ at all. just knew how to get an old man goin’.” he grunts, unbothered by the tears that have begun to roll over your cheeks. he’s selfish, using your throat to his advantage, balls slapping the underside of your chin. the cute outfit you’d turned up in ruined by your own slop of saliva as it dribbled out the corners of your mouth. “good fuckin’ girl. payin’ off every fuckin’ dollar.” his skin is slick with sweat, head lulling back against his shoulders, blinded by the dull white light above him. your throat is exactly what he needed at the end of a shitty week, and he had no shame in taking out his stress on you, sure you wouldn’t be forgetting him anytime soon.

when he finally lets up you choke out a cough, spit strung between his soaked cock and your mouth, breathing hard as you look up at him with watery eyes. still, you come chasing for more, hands sat on his denim clad thighs as you licked your tongue along his cock, gasping in a breath of air before you took him back into your throat, craving the feeling once more. “fuck’n hell.. look at you. must really need that god damn car, huh?” his fingers move into your hair again, yanking your mouth back off his cock so he could pull you up from the floor. “ain’t that right, princess? you’d do anythin’ for those keys back, huh?” “yes, daddy.” you choke out and what patience logan had left snaps, swiftly turning you around by the hold he has on your hair. he lifts the skirt up over the swell of your ass, palm of his hand roughly swatting against. you. once, twice, three times. your cheeks are stained red as your legs tremble, impatiently waiting for him to give you more. “let me see ‘er.” logan nods, bent over you and he pulled your panties to the side, spreading your cheeks so he had a perfect view of both holes, your pussy slick with your own arousal.

“you like gettin’ treated like a slut.” he acknowledged, spitting against his fingers before he brings them to your pussy, fingertips swirling your clit before he pressed two long fingers into your core, free hand wrapped around your throat. he stroked his fingers slowly at first but gained speed as your arousal coated him, making it easier for him to plunge his fingers into your tight hole, biceps flexing with each stroke of his fingers, feeling out the warmth of your walls, infatuated with the way your pussy sucks his fingers back in. he grins at the gasp you take in when he replaces his fingers with the head of his cock, pushing yourself up straighter as he sunk himself deep into your pussy. “daddy,” you softly grab at the hand he has around the middle of your throat, moaning as his chest presses up against your back. “you ever been stretched out this good before?” he asks beside your ear, breathing out a quiet laugh when you shake your head no. he grabs your face again, pulling your lips back to his when he fucks into you, hard strokes that press your hips against the grill of the truck, sure to leave you with bruises in days following. he swallows the moans you cry out, roughly driving his hips into yours. he’s unrelenting, giving himself to you hard the way you deserve it, the way you so evidently love it. it’s been a long god damn time since he had pussy this good, and fuck was he obsessed with yours, cursing himself for fixing the troubles your car had given you instead of giving you the run around to keep you coming back for more. hell, with the way you’re fucking yourself back onto his cock you just might anyway. “you’re going to make me cum, daddy,” you choke out, and he grabs at your hips, pulling him deeper into your sopping cunt. “that right? this ain’t even about you, princess. this was for me, remember? who says you’re allowed to cum?” he is brow furrows, getting a rise out of the way you while beneath him, small hands grabbing at the truck. “please, i know it’s not about me but please let me cum, daddy.” you whine, legs trembling beneath you, threatening to cave under your weight. he doesn’t respond, just fucking into your stretched core while you beg him to cum again and again. he ignored you until he spilled first, filling you with thick ropes of his cum, hips flush against yours so you take every drop deep inside. “you want to cum now, sweetheart?” he asked and you nod, rocking your hips back against him as your chase your own high.

needless to say, logan was more than willing to return your keys. and you.. well you might purposefully pop a tire soon.

[airbendertendou]

you are in love! ♥︎

synopsis : various best friend!characters realizing they like you a lil more when they should  [including bonten!sanzu, draken, senju, izana, aiura, saiki, satan, leon kennedy, and tamaki suoh.]

no pronouns used / gender neutral ; [name] used in place of y/n ; reader makes filipino food in izanas, im not from the philippines so pls don’t expect it to b accurate ; friends w benefits situation in satans ; reader dresses as sophie in tamakis but w pants and a shirt instead of a dress

song inspo ; you are in love by taylor swift 

if you have a blank blog [no bio, no user, no header or profile pic, nothing reblogged, etc] do not interact with my content. you will be blocked. 

——♥︎——

SANZU ♥︎

“big, scary bonten man,” you mumble to yourself. sanzu peaks at you over his shoulder as he cleans his gun, eyes narrowing at your tone. “never mean around me though, hm?”

he pauses, head tilting and pink hair following with it. you scoot further up the bed, laying against his pillows as he thinks. “i’m nice to mikey.”

“…that’s your boss.”

sanzu makes a show of rolling his eyes as he clicks his gun back together, satisfied with its new shine. “do you want me to be mean to you or somethin’?”

“why not?” you speak with a grin. the edge of the bed lifts as he stands, putting all his weapons away. sanzu pauses at your words, scrunching his nose in confusion. “definitely don’t look so mean ‘nd scary.”

huffing, he settles back on the bed, still sitting on the edge but a little closer this time. “i kill people, [name]. that’s pretty scary.”

you shrug, sitting up. your feet knock against his knees at the movement. “c’mon, haru,” you tilt your head back so that your neck is fully accessible, “do your worst.”

the room stills and you’re afraid you’ve pushed too far — afraid he might actually take you up on the offer. but something soft is pressed to the left side of your neck within the next second, lifting and latching onto different spots.

you gulp, feeling his responding grin against the middle of your throat.

the right side is given attention now, multiple kisses being scattered randomly. sanzu lifts his lips once more and places them on the base of your neck, his tongue and teeth making an appearance—

“ow, fucker!” you pull away from his touch with a scowl, your hand covering the new bite mark you’ve been gifted with. haru is grinning widely, teeth flashing in the light — you’re surprised you don’t see blood hanging on them. “didn’t have to bite me, haru.”

he shrugs, “wasn’t even my worst.”

you eye him, slowly dropping your hand from your sore and pulsating neck. “i feel sorry for your one night stands, then.”

sanzu hums, his right hand sliding closer to your hip and his body following until you’re face to face. it makes your cheeks heat ; makes you focus on the movement of his lips as he grins. “they won’t matter much anymore, anyways. have someone new i’m seeing.”

���oh yeah?”

��yeah,” his lips brush against your neck once more. sanzu tugs at your waist, bringing you closer to him as his voice softens into a whisper and settles against your ear. “if you’ll have me.”

DRAKEN ♥︎

a towel is handed to you, followed by a hoodie you know isn’t yours. draken’s cheeks flush, “in case you get cold.”

with an awkward wave, he leaves you alone. the shower you take is needed, warming you up and calming you down at the same time. no matter how long you’d known him, it was still the first time you’d be with draken all night.

the rainstorm appeared suddenly and disappeared as abruptly. it’d drenched you just as you and draken left the cafe you met at. his place was closer, he’d said, and he asked so quietly for you not to say anything. 

it was weird until you got to his place — a brothel.

“alright in there, cutie?” you’d just stepped out of the shower when the voice followed you through the walls. “ken asked me to check on you.”

they were sweet, the women that surrounded draken. they made sure you weren’t hungry ; didn’t need any refreshments or anything as they led you to draken’s room. “have a nice night!” they leave with a giggle.

draken eyes the smile you’re wearing as you tug his hoodie comfortably around your neck. “somethin’ happen?”

“they’re nice,” is all you say in response. his cheeks heat up once more as he turns away from you, body stiffening. “are you ready for bed?”

“oh—“ he clears his throat and shuffles where he stands. “you can take the bed. i’ll have the floor.”

you shake your head, pulling the blanket back and patting the bed. “i don’t mind sharing. right or left side?”

that’s how you end up face to face with draken, staring absently into the dark as your combined body heat warms the comforter. you can feel and hear him let out a sigh, “you okay? all comfy?”

“yeah,” your voice is embarrassingly breathy. he lets out another huff before an arm is wrapped around your waist, pulling you to his chest. “oh— that’’s better, actually.”

draken lets out a laugh, “m’glad. goodnight, [name].” 

SENJU ♥︎

“on the count of three!” senju jumps out of the dressing room adjacent to yours. she pauses, wobbling where she stands before straightening up. her head tilts, “it’s... something, alright!”

you pause, “you hate it.”

“...a little.” senju struts off, grabbing two of everything that catches her eye. she looks over the cloth she’s picked out, nodding in approval. “here,” she stuffs the fabric into your arms, “try this instead.”

you take a bit to figure out what she’d even brought to you — figuring which was the top and which the bottom — struggling to squeeze yourself in. once situated and comfortable, you gaze into the mirror.

it’s cute, watch senju told you to wear. the color is nice and balances your skin out, brightening it and making it glow. the bottoms fit your legs nicely, shaping and enlongating them. you hum in satisfaction, peeking out of the dressing room to see if senju’s done.

“[name]! let me see your outfit!” senju spots you right away. she gestures for you to join her enthusiastically. you open the door fully, scooting out until you’re face to face with her.

you hold out your arms nonchalantly, “ta-da.”

her eyes widen, mouth falling open ever so slightly. snapping it closed, she gulps, looking away before her cheeks turned color. you tilt your head, “senju?”

“yeah,” her voice cracks. the outfit she’s wearing is the same as yours — a matching moment, she went with. senju giggles nervously, “yeah. you look... pretty.”

prettier than she’d ever tell you.

IZANA ♥︎

the smell of lumpia and fried chicken coats the room around you. ran had just rinsed the rice, moving to mix together the rice noodles and shrimp for the palabok. kakucho is to his left, slicing boiled eggs so they could go on top.

you let out a sigh, nodding your head at the impressive menu you’d whiped together. filipino food was a little out of your comfort zone, an unkown taste to you. however, today was an important day — a special one. the oven dings, indicating the cake you’d made was finished. 

fresh out of the oven, the simplistic chocolate cake looks and smells delicious. you slap your hands together, “jus’ needs to cool down and we’re ready to go!”

the front door opens suddenly, rindou’s voice calling out a warning as he enters. shion is right behind him, pink-faced and sheepish as izana steps in, hands crossed over his chest. he raises and eyebrow, “what’s this?” 

“uh—“ kakucho adjusts the apron he’s wearing. it matches the one you’re wearing — ran refused one. he looks around, “surprise?”

“rindou! you were supposed to keep him busy!”

the blond shrugs, “he got bored.”

you sigh, closing your eyes as the food you’ve made is thoroughly examined. izana meets your gaze and raises his eyebrow in question once again. “it was supposed to be a birthday surprise.”

“...it’s filipino food.”

“yeah,” you wring your hands nervously. “you haven’t had it in a while, so i thought i’d try making it.”

izana looks over the food again, stealing a bite here and there as he goes. his eyes close ; his chest expanding with the comfort the familiar dishes bring. when his eyes open, they’re brighter ; more tender than what you’re used to seeing. 

your left hand is raised, a kiss being placed on your knuckles as izana pulls you close. “thank you, [name]. this means a lot.”

you grin, “happy birthday, z.”

AIURA ♥︎

in the morning, right after she does her makeup and before her uniform is on, aiura looks to her crystal ball for guidance. just a way to know things will be okay ; the day won’t be weird.

through the crystalline sphere, she sees her hand clasped in someone else’s. giddy, aiura believes this means she’s found her chosen one. the one made for her ; the one who will love her endlessly.

“—has to be the one!” she’s ranting to an unlistening saiki, rambling about her peek into the future. kaidou slips from leaning against her desk at her words. aiura sighs happily, “i can’t wait to meet them.”

a faceless classmate interupts the moment. “some idiots are fighting outside.”

you go to look — aiura can’t even remember when you came into the room. you rub your eyes tiredly before they widen dramatically. “that’s our idiot! aren’s out there!”

people flood outside, pouring out to help their beaten and bruised classmate. aiura is frozen in her seat — how did she not see this? how did a fight just miraculously break out?

a touch breaks her out of her thoughts. you’re holding her hand — frowning and ranting as you lead her outside. aiura’s face heats — you’re her chosen one? her one and only happiness? 

she gulps as she looks up to your face. this changes things. 

SAIKI ♥︎

the day starts normally. kaidou tells saiki he’d spent the night fighting agianst the dark reunion — he was studying all night. kuboyasu fought the urge to threaten an older boy in the school — just barely. nendou had already asked to eat ramen — they’d just gotten to school. 

saiki let out a sigh, eyes staring at the board in front of him. aiura had bought a new perfume that was clouding his nose, his thoughts — everything. she leans her head to the right so that she could meet his gaze. “what do you think, saiki?”

she’s met with silence. the chair behind him creaks as you sit down, a small laugh being let out as you do. aiura pouts your way, “[name], saiki’s ignoring me!”

you tap saiki’s shoulder lightly, just a brush of a touch, before turning to the blond. “don’t take it personal, aiura. you can just ask me what you want.”

“an angel,” she beams at you. aiura turns to face you fully, scrunching her nose at saiki as she goes. “i got some new perfume and nail polish recently,” she flashes her fingers at you. “cute, right?” 

you lean in closer, chin barely brushing against saiki’s shoulder as you go. you let out a small oooh! at the sigh of her glitzed up nails. “super cute, actually!”

she squints, leaning in a little closer as she does. “you’re wearing a new eyeshadow, aren’t you?”

“i am!” you close your eyes completely, relaxing your face so she can see the color. “like it?”

“looks... familiar for some reason.”

saiki peers at you sneakily from over his shoulder, only looking at you from the corner of his eye. he whips his head around before anyone can see. it is familiar — it’s his exact eye color. it takes everything in saiki to not light up in flames at the thought.

SATAN ♥︎

you had been an acquaintance of satan for months now. he’d come to you when he felt upset ; when the only feeling he could name was rage. when the world was burning and erupting inside of him, boiling and spilling out of his seams. he often took his anger out on you — with your consent, of course. he’s bruise you, scratch you and leave his mark lingering in any way he could.

today, though… today was the opposite. there was an emptiness inside of him ; a devoid and barren system that left him feeling nothing.

satan came to you, straggling and stone-faced as he locked his fingers into yours. you’d gotten close during your times together ; he knew every sigh you made and every face you held. you did the same to him ; made him feel comfort and freedom in ways he couldn’t around his brothers. that’s why he usually came to you when any feeling hit — you didn’t feel suffocating the way the house of lamentation always did.

“you okay?” you’re on his lap somehow, thighs sandwiching his own as his fingers dig into your hips. you brush his hair out of his eyes, “satan?”

he lets out a hum. you jostle slightly, hips meeting his torso — satan let’s out a small groan and let’s his forehead fall to your shoulder. “need me to help you relax?”

it starts off slow, your kissing. the usual upkeep is messy ; tangled and rushed as your clothes are ripped away and your bodies pressed tightly. this time, satan is careful to turn your head the way he wants it to, his hands on your cheekbones and guiding your head left and right.

you’ve just unbuttoned his shirt when you feel it. tears, dripping down your own cheeks. you pause, pulling away and letting your hands lift from his shoulders and settle on his cheeks. you tilt your head, “satan?”

his fingertips welted into your back, molding themselves onto either side of your spine like a pair of faded wings. satan breathes in, his chest stuttering with the feeling. he sniffs, nose and eyebrows curving in confusion as he pulls further away from you. “what’s going on?”

“you’re crying.” you wipe underneath his eyes gently, frown on your kissed, puffy lips. “why are you crying? what’s wrong?”

“i… i’m not sure,” his lower lip trembles. satan falls deeper into your hold, his arms looping around your waist and pulling you closer to him. “feeling too much.”

his fingers dip underneath your shirt, and pull it up until you’re bare and exposed. satan smiles tenderly and you grin back, your own hands crawling up his exposed chest. “sure you’re okay?”

“good with you,” it’s murmured against your neck. satan sniffs again before nipping at your throat, opened mouth kisses trailing down to your sternum. “always good with you.”

LEON S. KENNEDY ♥︎

the bar you’ve found yourself at is starting to get boring. you leave after waving eagerly to your friends, shuffling on the sidewalk as you awkwardly pull your phone from its safe spot. a text from leon catches your eye — a mere thumbs up to the long paragraphs you’d sent his way. you scowl only to realize you’re closer to his apartment than you thought.

he wasn’t asleep — he never slept well — but he wasn’t fully awake either. hearing a tap on his door was strange, but leon let it be, assuming his neighbors had hit the wall on their way in.

until a long, drawn out whine of his name flew through the room.

swaying in his doorway was you ; eyes half-lided and your shirt falling down your shoulder. you grin his way, “hi, lee!”

“[name]. why’re you here?” he sounds gruff ; annoyed with the way you seem to always show up at his door. you know he isn’t, though, used to the tone his voice holds. leon holds his door open as you stagger inside, “been drinkin’ again?”

“mm,” you flop onto his couch, “birthday party. got bored. remembered you jus’ came home.”

leon quietly places your shoes by the door and grabs a blanket while you yawn. “missed me then?”

you let out another hum, pulling the blanket he’d given you further up your shoulders. slowly, your eyes peel open and you smile at him softly. “always miss you when you’re gone, lee. like when you’re home.”

home wasn’t something leon remembers. he moved around a lot now, going from city to city for his government affiliated job. home meant the presence of care ; of warmth. leon’s bare, empty apartment held nothing like that. crystal eyes fell to you when you let out a small hiccup, sagging to the right until your head fell on his shoulder.

“m’home for now, [name].”

TAMAKI ♥︎

haruhi adjusts the hat you’re wearing, making sure the blue blouse you’re wearing is tucked in properly. you shuffle in your spot nervously, fingers picking at your cuticles as she nods to herself. her eyes meet yours, “you’ll do fine, [name].”

“says you,” you frown. you stretch the neck of your blouse and clear your throat. “you guys are used to this stuff.”

haruhi swats your hands away, grabbing them in her own. “you will do fine. c’mon, it’s time to start.”

“welcome!”

tamaki doesn’t have time to speak to you ; doesn’t have time to admire the outfit you’re wearing before they’re greeting guests. his eyes stray to you again and again, his attention on you and not the guests who surround him. you go to every table, dropping off sweet treats and teacups as you go.

“—lly cute.” a girl is saying to him. tamaki blinks back into reality as his shoulder is touched. “right, tamaki?”

“could you repeat that, princess?”

her cheeks flare a bright pink as she straightens up in her seat. “i said you and [name] match. howl and sophie, right? it’s really cute.”

tamaki’s eyes find you again as you drop slices of cake off at the twins’ table. they giggle with you, tugging on your hat playfully before you leave. “we do match, don’t we?”

orchid eyes stay focused on you for the rest of the day. even after the club’s activities are over, and you’re helping clean up — he still stares. you finally look back, placing your hat on a table as you go. “yes, tamaki? you’ve been staring.”

“we’re sophie and howl,” his voice is light, faraway as he speaks. “did you notice?”

“only after i saw you.” you smile gently, watching kyoya tally up any and every cost. “a nice surprise for us both, i suppose.”

tamaki stares at your reflection in the window in front of him, eyeing the way you portray your chosen characters. his cheeks barely heat, but he still feels like it’s obvious to everyone. haruhi meets his flustered gaze and grins.

——♥︎—— i know nothing abt cooking n even less abt filipino food so i hope izanas was okay </3 hope they were all okay tbh

airbendertendou © do not copy, plagiarize, repost, or translate my content on any platform. if you see my content under any other name than my own, let me know. i only have this tumblr and an ao3 account under the same name.

[going-to-ikea-for-the-fries]

Temporary Fix! || skirt chaser!Johnny

Rating: E Words: 4.1K~ CW: smut smut smut, a bit of BAD dirty talking, oral sex (m!receiving), protected piv sex, breath play (if you squint), praise kink (lots of 'that's it' + 1 'good girl'). Tags: afab!reader, fat/chubby!reader, you/your pronouns, one-night stand but more like one-week stand. Summary: Johnny's a dog who can't keep it in his pants. a/n: this is for my chubby gals and also for my @crashtestbunny because I wanted her to be able to read this and not have the previous cheating plot in place.

The thing about soldiers… Is that they tend to have lovers. As in, for as long as they stay deployed in a country, they’re bound to get themselves a toy they can have a shag with. Sometimes it’s prostitutes. Sometimes it’s regular women.

This is a lot more common for enlisted soldiers in the Army. The types that get deployed for 9 to 18 months at a time when they're very young, fighting in a war that keeps them far away from home for so long that they “can’t help” but seek affection from local women.

But that’s not to mean Special Forces soldiers, especially those kept on ‘stand by’, always ready for a quick deployment that, at most, lasts a month or two, don’t do it. They do.

John Alistair MacTavish is a grown man, not one of those young lads of 18, recently out basic, who need a whole to bury their cock in or else they'll die. But you wouldn’t think that, seeing as he's constantly seeking out action on the side.

He goes on and on about how childish those stupid recruits are, about some of his old mates who'd shag anything that walks... Only to then leave base with his team to end up at some bar or club in civvy clothes, find a nice bird or bloke (he’s not picky) and go home with them.

A hypocrite, any normal person would call him, a womanizer, a skirt chaser, a player... He’s not above calling himself that. But sometimes he just needs to decompress! That's his excuse anyway. Decompressing. Letting out pent-up aggression. Orgasms are great stress-relievers...

And as useful as his fist is, he’s not a sixteen-year-old anymore, rubbing one out in his bathroom during a quick shower. That just doesn’t cut it anymore. If he has the option to shag someone, why wouldn’t he?

Now that he’s in the 141, the philandering just gets much worse. Whenever they have downtime on a foreign location somewhere, a night free before they return to England, or a night before they get the go-ahead to go on a mission, what have you… He’s out getting himself a shag.

And, worse of all, he brings Gaz along. 

Gaz doesn’t have the same issue, unlike Johnny, he can actually contain himself. Maybe that makes Gaz a bit bad too, because he knows that Soap has a tendency to chase like they owe him money... And he still enables him. He still goes out with his mate and they both get wasted and laid without a care. 

Maybe Gaz doesn’t think it’s his place to intervene, or maybe he just doesn’t care enough to.

Camaraderie and all.

That’s how they ended up in a club downtown, flashing lights all around them, loud reggaeton playing through the speakers, men and women around them with more skin on display than they had covered rubbing their bodies, sipping drinks, spilling them over each other… Oh, the wonders of a Colombian night club.

They saw you before you saw them. Kyle tapping at Johnny’s shoulder as their eyes perused the space individually, then, he drew the Scot’s eyes to you, standing with your friends, laughing, drinking, softly swaying to the music. 

Soft curves in a copper-colored dress that left little to the imagination, clinging tight to a round ass and a thick belly, the hem constantly pulled down by your hands, as it insisted on rolling up, up, up, exposing more of your smooth thighs than you wanted it to. 

It didn’t stop you from still rolling your hips to the music, however, turning the fixing of your dress a near impossible task, repetitive, useless, and maddening, Sisyphus-and-his-stone.

Turning to each other, the two sergeants hands shot to the middle of their bodies, a quick rock-paper-scissors ensuing… which Johnny won.

And that’s how you ended up turning around to the sight of a foreigner with the broadest shoulders, thickest arms and pecs, and bluest eyes you’ve ever seen… As well as a mohawk, something you didn’t often see on… anyone, really.

He was a soldier, you could tell, even out of uniform. Not your first time seeing one, this being a city with a military base attached, and certainly not your last time being approached by one.

Oh, how soldiers seem to love fat women. You’ve experienced your fair few, many of them assuming your weight would equal desperation for love and affection, which would result in you accepting a rushed wedding for the sole purpose of getting him out of the barracks. 

But you’re not desperate. Other than for a good lay, maybe.

“Erm… Hola.” The soldier in front of you says, blue eyes locked on your face for a surprisingly respectful amount of time considering the sinful cleavage that this dress and your bra give you. 

His Spanish has the thickest accent you’ve ever heard, meaning he’s not American… But his pronunciation is off, so he’s clearly an English speaker. Though he’s not English either, you can tell.

“I speak English. Hi.” You told him, watching as he let out a little sigh of relief. Then, the corner of his mouth popped up in a dirty little smirk. 

“Well, tha’ makes it easier. Hi.” He replied. “I saw ye from over there… Was wonderin’ if I can buy ye a drink?” He offered. Only then did he allow his blue eyes to slither down, down, down, trailing every inch of your exposed skin down to the black ankle booties you’re wearing, thick, square heels to prevent your hamstrings from feeling the pain of stilettos the next morning.

“Why?” You decided to ask him with a cocked brow, forcing his eyes to shoot upward to meet your face again, locking onto yours with a surprised expression.

“Why, what, pretty thing?” He replied, his own brows, thick, straight, rising up to meet his hairline. He’s confused, his eyes blinking a bit. His intentions had been clear as day. Obvious enough for you to pick up on, but you’re playing dumb, or maybe hard to get. 

“Why do you wanna buy me a drink?” You asked him as you dipped your head to the side, your eyes slowly trailing over every inch of his handsome face. Those blue eyes of his are locked on you, pupils slightly dilated, hands hanging off his hips, fingers looped onto the belt loops of his jeans.

“Because you’re proper beautiful.” He replied. Your cocked brow and unimpressed glances up and down, cause him to continue. “And I’d love to take you home, find out what you’ve got on under that dress, and make sure your neighbors hate you from today onward.”

His words are crude, his voice loud and crass, disregarding the public space you’re in, the fact that there are others around, not just your friends, but complete strangers too. Maybe he’s hoping they won’t understand English. But they do. Hell, your girlfriends look at you and exchange coy looks with you, before them, and you, break into a fit of giggles.

He looks at them, noticing they caught what he said, even through the loud music, but then looks at you again. “So? What do you say?” His brogue is getting easier and easier to listen to with every word he says.

Rolling your head to the side, your squint your eyes at him and then shrug. “Do you have to buy me a drink for that?” You challenge him, your eyes snapping back and forth between his own, almost taunting him with your inquiry.

“Not if you don’t want to.” He tells you, eyes lit ablaze and a smirk on his lips.

So, you simply grab him by the arm, bid farewell to your friends, with a wave, and grab your clutch from the table, before dragging him out of the club.

Johnny was expecting a flat, a home, maybe even a university dorm room considering your age. What a surprise it came to him to find you taking him up to a hotel. Not that he’d complain when he noticed the large king-sized bed and the large view, providing a beautiful view of the illuminated city of Cartagena.

His hands were on your broad hips before you even got to closing the door, his mouth clashing onto yours as he pushed you against the wall by the door, calloused hands already sliding over the slinky fabric of your silky dress, tugging it up, so they could slip underneath.

His tongue pushed into your mouth, wet and drooling, saliva traded between your mouths as his strong fingers caught hold of a greedy handful of your ass, digging into the supple flesh and groaning in delight at just the feeling of you at his fingertips.

Your own hands already slid up and around his torso, feeling him up through the fabric of his t-shirt, before sliding down to pull the navy blue fabric out of its tuck into his jeans, rolling it up to expose a strong, bulky body covered in a generous amount of body hair.

Your lips broke apart for a moment, only long enough for you to take off his shirt, tossing it onto an armchair in the corner, and for him to unzip the side-zipper of your dress, taking it off you too.

Then, he grabbed you around the thighs, causing you to shriek, as he bounded for the bed, dropping you so hard onto it you almost swore you’d bounce off. Still wearing his jeans, he slotted himself between your parted thighs, his body bending over yours.

His stubble scratched your neck as he kissed you all over, licking stripes of your skin as his hands pulled off your boots, unfastened your bra… They were surprisingly nimble for such a hulking man. “Fuck, you’re beautiful.” Johnny cooed as he let his eyes run down your body.

He dragged his mouth down from your neck, across you clavicle, over one of your breasts, and caught your nipple between his teeth, beginning to suck on it, noticing how you hissed a bit, leaning back on your elbows as he did so.

One of his hands caught your other breast, grabbing and carefully kneading it between his fingers, as his eyes shot up to your face, blue irises beneath a pair of dark eyelashes, fluttering slowly as his pupils blew out from how horny he was. His other hand found your black panties and pulled them aside, (more so ripped them with how aggressive he pulled on them), the rough and calloused pads of his fingers catching your lips immediately and beginning to slide up and down, running over your slit.

The moment his cracked fingertips grazed your clit, you whined, your legs spreading apart even more, your body jumping a bit. “Fuck…” You grumbled under your breath, your eyes locked on his face and the way he eagerly played with your nipple. 

“Relax.” Johnny told you once he let go of your nipple. Then, he rolled his tongue around in his mouth, collecting some saliva, before letting it drip onto your slit, his fingers catching it and spreading it quickly as he resumed playing with your clit, hand craning in order to push a finger inside.

“Oh fuck…” You moaned softly, hips bucking up against his hand, following his ministrations as he pushed a second finger inside of you and hooked them up to graze your g-spot, pumping them in and out, the rugged feel of his cracked fingertips drawing a surprisingly pleasant sensation of pleasure from the depths of your soul.

His other hand moved away from your breasts in order to undo his belt, leaving it to hang around his waist as he also undid his jeans, sliding them and his boxer briefs down one-handed, in order to allow his cock to spring free.

Your eyes lock onto it as he continues fingering you, a bit sloppy and rough, his palm pressed to your clit and his fingers constantly drawing a ‘come hither’ motion inside your wet walls.

His cock is stubby, shorter than some of the men you’ve been with, but so thick you can’t help but wonder just how he’ll make it fit inside of you, and how straining the stretch of it will be. It’s heavy too, uncut, hanging down even while already full-mast, too heavy to spring back against his belly button. His balls are heavy too, full, round and strained as he continues to play with you, watching your reactions to his touch.

“You like what you see, huh?” He asks you, noticing the way your eyes don’t slip far from his cock before returning to it, watching it lay against one of your smooth thighs, the ruddy color and constant twitching only bringing more attention it as it rubs against your skin, dripping pre-cum over your stretch marks.

“Mhm…” You reply softly as your hand reaches down to tug at it, carefully wrapping around it and drawing it up and down over his length, only letting go to cup his taut balls and fondle them a few times.

“Tha’s it…” He murmurs and hisses under his breath as he looks you right in the eyes. “Wanna be good f’r me?” He coos at you, and you nod in reply as you bite your lip. “How about you get on your knees and let me see how you suck me off, hm?”

Nodding, you untangle yourself from around him, his fingers slipping out of you, as you took your spot on the floor, the soldier having been caring enough to toss a pillow from the bed onto the floor to cushion your knees.

He sits on the edge of the bed, strong, muscular thighs spread open, as you sunk your mouth onto him, without so much as a second’s worth of hesitation. The stretch as you tried to swallow as much of him as you can tugged at the corners of your mouth, making them feel a bit sore, your jaw already protesting at the size of him. But that doesn’t stop you.

You start lapping at the underside of his cock eagerly, wetting him as much as possible to make sure you could continue taking him down your throat. The sounds he was making were sinful, low groans and grunts, hissing through his teeth, one hand carefully fisting the bed covers.

He carefully gathered your hair away from your face, gripping it one handed. “Tha’s it… Greedy thign you are, wanna take all of my fat cock in your mouth, hm?” He goaded a bit as he looked down at you between his legs.

Any other time, any other place, any other man, you’d already be pulling off him, getting dressed, telling him to fuck off… But something in this soldier’s voice, in his accent, the growl behind his voice, the spark in his eyes… 

Maybe you are just desperate for a good lay with the thickest cock you’ve ever seen… But you don’t complain. You simply nod at him and bobbed your head even more enthusiastically, lips struggling to glide up and down his length, spread open sinfully to accommodate his size.

“Tha’s a good girl…” He praises, his free hand coming to grip you at the back of your neck, tugging you slowly, forward, to make you swallow more of him down into your throat, making you gag and sputter on his length, sloppily drooling around the size of him, saliva drooling down your chin and onto the carpeted floor of your hotel room.

“Pretty fucking thing… Gonna make that make-up run, hm?” He offers as he pulled you off and back onto his cock, moving your head for you. “Show some attention to that pretty pussy of yours, go on.” He demands, causing you to nod.

One of your hands found your wet slit between your legs, sliding two fingers inside, which felt like not nearly enough after having had his own, and considering the fat cock that would soon replace them, but you’d make do. 

“Both hands, don’t be coy now.” He added. Your eyes widen, already anticipating the loss of balance that’d come from the lack of support from your free hand holding you up on the bed. But you do as you’re told, trying your best to keep a perch on your knees as your other hand starts slowly padding at your clit, rolling circles with it.

When you inevitably lose balance, as you knew you would, the soldier simply pulls you forward against him, making you bury your nose against his pelvis, swallowing his cock in its entiry, causing you to choke and gag, trying to catch a breath through your nose. He, in turn, lets out a loud groan of delight, eyes rolling back, as he feels the warm wetness of your throat.

“Keep your hands where they are.” He demands of you, preventing you from trying to pull away and find balance again with your hands on the bed or the floor or his thighs. You can barely do much more than nod against his hip.

He hooks a leg over your shoulder, pinning you close to him, while his hips begin to rock into your mouth, blindly and sloppily, making you gag more and more, more saliva slipping down from your parted lips, making a mess of him and yourself. “Tha’s it… yeah… just what I fuckin’ needed… Such a good girl f’r me…” He grunts as his hand swipes your hair out of your face as it slips from his grip.

“You like this?” He asks you as he abuses your mouth and your throat, while you sputter and try to fruitlessly breathe between each thrust of his into your throat. Nodding pathetically, mouth to full to speak, you whimper against him, making him shiver and shudder. “Of course you do… greedy fuckin’ mouth…”

He only pulls you off him after another couple of minutes, which felt like an eternity, allowing you to catch your breath only for long enough for him to pull you onto the bed, bending you over at the hips, presenting your round ass to him.

“Mmmmm, look at you…” He grunts out as he ruts his cock between your ass cheeks while tugging your head back at the scalp, causing your back to arch ever so slightly, your tits still pressed against the bed covers. “Round fuckin’ arse… Gonna love see it jiggle f’r me…”

He lets go of you again for a moment only to paw at your ass cheeks with one hand, while the other blindly looks for his wallet in his jeans. “Find me a condom, will ye?” He asks as he tosses the leather wallet next to your head, while he steps out of his jeans, underwear and boots, finally.

While looking for the little clip pocket containing them, you spot his military identification very briefly. It makes you realize you didn’t even ask him his name… Nor did he ask for yours. A green and white striped card titled ‘British Army’, with the name ‘John MacTavish’ and some extra info you don’t really pay attention to. John. That’s his name…

Once you pass him one of the silver wrappers, Johnny rips it open and puts on the slick condom quickly, barely waiting a moment before slipping himself inside of you, down to the hilt in one swift motion. You find yourself squirming against the bed covers with a whine, while he groans loudly behind you.

Although the stretch was still wildly bigger than any other man you’ve been with before, it didn’t feel as uncomfortable as you expected it too… probably because you were wetter and more eager than you expected.

He starts rutting inside of you immediately, huffing through clenched teeth as his big hands grip your ass cheeks and keep you spread open. His fingers dig deeply onto your extra fat, squeezing and kneading it, his blue eyes glued to the way your puffy lips part and stretch to swallow him whole. “Beautiful fuckin’ sight…”

“Fuck… Just like that… Don’t stop…” You beg him and whine loudly, fisting the white bed covers and digging your nails into them, your face resting on them sideways, sliding back and forth with each thrust of his.

You’re sure the hotel staff is going to have a field day washing the duvet, your make-up already staining the white fluffy fabric, sliding down with the sweat, and dragging across with each motion of your head.

You can barely speak or think, moaning in turn with him, each thrust of his causing you to croon and whimper in delight, his fat cock hitting you at every possible angle and rubbing every inch of your walls, the veins dragging against your g-spot, the condom barely there.

“Yeah… ye like tha’? Huh? Ye like it?” He coos at you, already slightly out of breath, hips barelling against your plump ass, making it jiggle as he bounces himself off them.

“Oh, fuck yes…!” You whine loudly. His hands slide up to find your hip, pushing you down against the mattress so he can shift more of his weight onto you, pumping at a downward angle, causing you to shriek desperately.

“Oh yeah…” Johnny grunts and starts huffing atop you, leaning all his weight atop of you as he pounds his hips against yours, his breath ragged against your shoulder and hair. “Fuck… Yer cunts feels so fuckin’ good…” He murmurs in your ear, his thick accent becoming.

“Oh, God…” You whimper, shuddering beneath him, feeling the familiar knot tightening in your stomach, each of his strong thrusts rattling every fiber of your being. “John…”

“Oh… tha’s it… Moan my name…” He orders as one of his hands suddenly shoots up and grips you by the back of the neck. “Moan my name…” He insists as he throws his hips down onto yours.

“John!” You call out, doing as you’re told, panting for air as he pushes your face harder into the mattress, slowing his thrusts down and bottoming out inside you each time at a slower pace.

Good thing he did too… Because the knot in your stomach only tightens more and more and more, and then snaps, making you cry out loudly with a choked moan that gets half-caught in your throat as your walls suddenly clamp down around him, tightening the grip on his fat shaft.

“Oh fuck…” Johnny grunts and picks up the pace again, grasp your hip as hard as his hands can, a bruising grip that’ll definitely leave a mark, as he pounds into your weeping cunt again and again and again…

He finally comes, losing his balance and landing on his elbows and forearms on either side of your body, his chest against your back, out of breath, as much as you, even though you feel like you barely did anything other than take him.

“Fuck… I needed that…” He grumbles under his breath as he speaks against your shoulder blade, before leaning up and biting at your earlobe. “That feel good f’r ye?” He whispers in your ear, an earnest question, receiving a little nod from you. “Good…”

Slowly, he pulled himself up, slipping his softening cock from you and rolling the condom off. “So… how long are ye and yer friends stayin’ here?” He asks you nonchalantly while tying off the condom.

“Are you trying to make small talk…?” You ask him, surprised that you can even find a voice or string together a coherent sentence in the aftermath of that. You try your best to drag yourself up and over onto the bed, and once you succeed, you look at him languidly.

“No. I have a reason to ask.” He assures you as he tosses the condom into the paper bin under the desk in the corner, before shuffling back over to you on the bed, lying lazily next to you, an arm behind his head, the other on his stomach.

“Four more days.” You tell him, and he nods at the reveal of information. You roll your head to the side to look at him, both of your bodies sweaty and sticky, your make-up undoubtedly a mess, not that he shows it in the way he looks at you… And even if he did, he’d likely only show pride at making you look like that.

“Well… I’m comin’ to pay ye a visit every night until then.” He tells you, before wrapping his free arm around you, pulling you close. “I plan on gettin’ that tight cunny wrapped around my cock fer as long as I can.”

yes, this is a repost of the original "Temporary Fix." but without the cheating :)

[sundrop-writes]

if Mike fell asleep with you...

Word Count: 750

Horror Characters Masterlist

Warnings: this is mostly pure fluff - Mike and the reader are in an established relationship, the reader's gender is not described in any way (the main pronouns used are you/yours), Mike calls the reader angel, the reader takes on a caregiver role for Abby, mostly just short and fluffy. This is set before the main events of the movie, when Mike is working as a security guard at the mall.

A/N: So, I've seen so many people in the tags going 'just let him sleep!!! that man is so exhausted!!' and saying that he's too tired to fuck in the way that people are writing fanfics about him. And as much as I love super horny fics, I do thought this up, because I agree - the man should be allowed to sleep. This is largely inspired by that scene in Grey's Anatomy where Meredith walked in and Owen was asleep on Cristina's chest while she was reading a book (I think it was when she was reading through Mer's mom's diaries?) - anyway. I love that scene so much because it shows how easily he sleeps around her because he's so comfortable around her. And that's why it deeply inspired this. Let him sleep.

...

Mike was exhausted when he came in the door. 

He heaved out a sigh as he closed the door behind him, toeing off his shoes - pure, stiff tiredness radiating through his whole body in the worst way. 

You knew that sound anywhere. 

“Long day?” You inquired gently from your position on the couch, lightly craning your neck to look at him. 

He shuffled further into the house in an almost zombie-like fashion, only giving you a solitary grunt in response. 

You felt kind of bad that he had been stuck at work late when you had been lucky enough to have a morning shift and been treated to a relaxing evening with Abby. She was a relatively easy kid to take care of, and generally fun to be around. 

And after you had put her to bed, you laid out on the couch, relaxing and reading a novel that your friend had recommended. Generally, you were having a nice evening. And it seemed that Mike was not. 

As you kept an eye on Mike, you folded over the page of your book to mark it and put it on the coffee table for later. 

“Dinner’s on the counter.” You told him. “I made lasagna. I can heat it up for you if you want.” 

You hated that before he started dating you, all he knew was freezer burnt crap - but you were slowly showing him how to cook, and a world of vegetables that didn't come in a can. 

Mike took off his jacket and the heavy belt he had to wear for work (his large walkie talkie and his taser were in his locker at work, as mandated, but the thing was still damn uncomfortable) and he hung them both up. 

He didn’t respond to your queries about dinner as he walked around the couch. Instead of speaking, seeing you laying there so relaxed - the sight was all too inviting, and he eased himself to lay on top of you in a form of very natural intimacy before he grunted a few words into your neck. 

“Did Abby eat?” He asked softly as he laid on top of you. 

It was oddly comforting to have the bulk of his weight on top of you, especially as he melted against you, letting out a small moan as the tension melted out of his bones. He adjusted himself to get more comfortable and his face rested against the softness of your chest - you glanced down to see that his eyes were drifting closed. 

“She ate two platefuls, and had some peas.” You assured him. “Did her homework, had a bath, and she practiced her spelling words before she went to bed.” 

Mike grunted again - a more positive pitch to this one. He couldn't ask for anyone better than you. Sometimes he worried about her - all the time. But when Abby was with you, that worry lessened a lot. 

“You’re an angel.” He hummed against your chest. “I don’t-” He let out a gentle yawn. “I don’t know how I got so lucky with you.” 

“You look hot in a uniform and my job at the bookstore gets boring.” You replied, half-joking about the circumstances of how your relationship with Mike had formed. 

You reached out to him and began running your fingers through his hair, soothing him even further into the realm of sleep with the comforting touch. 

He let out another tired moan in reply - something that almost stretched into a rolling sound with the gentle pleasure of your hand in his hair. With the way his body was so slack against yours, his breathing even and quiet, you knew this was only leading one place. 

“You wanna go get ready for bed?” You asked gently. 

“In a minute.” He answered softly, barely parting his lips to get the words out. 

You glanced over to the table and reached out, picking your book back up as his breathing deepened and his body went even more slack. You were preparing to get comfortable for the next few hours. You weren’t all that tired yourself, and you still had a few chapters left to go. When you got to the next chapter, he began to snore lightly and you felt drool dripping down your neck - which didn’t bother you all that much. You found it cute, in fact. 

You were comforted by the fact that he relaxed enough around you to get such a good sleep. You knew that he needed it. 

...

A/N: also, this is my first time posting a fic completely from mobile by copy/pasting something from google docs on my phone. So hopefully the formatting isn't too messed up and hopefully this goes well! And I hope you guys enjoy this short fluffy fic 💖

[the-thing-withfeathers]

exceeded caution part 2

first time for everything

series masterlist | next part

a/n: heyy y’all!! so this is part 2 of exceeded caution. a lot of it follows the actual movie because i needed set-up for ghostface. there’s still a lot of interaction between the reader + sam & tara but some of it is from the first 30 minutes of scream vi essentially.

warnings: violence (gun usage, knife usage), cursing. he/him pronouns for ghostface. 5.8k words.

𓆪𓆩 𓆪𓆩 𓆪𓆩 𓆪𓆩 𓆪𓆩

a few days ago, sam was nowhere near the forefront of your mind. you had stayed with the group as they navigated their way through accepting that ghostface might be back.

you hadn't spoken to tara much, you felt like you wouldn't be any help to her. she didn't need her ex-girlfriend that she only dated out of convenience around her constantly.

instead, the other carpenter sister started to find solace in your presence.

you found yourself over quite a bit, you noticed that they valued strength in numbers. you even all set a rotation between the group for who would cook that week.

during your week to cook, sam insisted on joining you when grocery shopping. as you promised her that she wouldn't be alone, she mentally promised you the same thing.

"it's just a simple beef stroganoff recipe, sam. you really don't have to come." you smiled sheepishly as you pulled up outside her apartment, she was hopping into your passenger seat.

"ghostface won't let a grocery store stop him from taking lives." sam was firm in her words, you sighed in defeat and drove off towards the shops that were only a couple minutes away from her place. you wanted her to feel safe still.

she pushed the cart while you took ingredients off the shelves, mumbling to yourself as you chucked them in the cart.

"tara used to say your food was amazing. where did you learn to cook?" she asked you, you looked away from your list to smile at her.

"my mom, she's amazing at cooking. she gave up her career to support my dad and become a fulltime housewife." you explained. "i used to help her cook all the time."

"that's pretty cool. i find myself never having the time for new foods. i should probably get on that."

"i can teach you some. or make some for you, i like cooking for people." you shrugged, taking another ingredient off the shelves.

sam would normally decline if you were anyone else, but she felt the urge to accept.

"sure. that would be nice." she nodded at you.

sam had enjoyed you being around more often and getting to know you outside of tara. she even found herself calling you a friend.

or rather, she tried to keep it at friend. she was trying to hide the fact that she felt a pull to you, she didn't know how to explain it. although, one thing was sure, there was an element of guilt to it.

she wasn’t the only one feeling guilty. you felt almost dirty with how much you thought of sam. because of the frequency of your contact, you found yourself wanting to see her more.

was this against some form of girl code that you shouldn’t want to hang out with your ex’s sister?

“um… how are you?” she could see that you were nervous to ask her that. “i know you probably get asked that all the time but i never ask… and i want to know.”

“that’s fine. i figured you would get curious. you always seem to be.” sam commented.

“is curiosity bad?” you teased a little, noting her phrasing.

“no! not at all.” she perked up, shaking her head.

“don’t worry sam, i’m joking.” you realised that the carpenter sisters weren’t used to bantering with someone they weren’t extremely close to— or someone they didn’t love.

“right.” she bit her lip. “but no? it’s not bad at all.” she chuckled. “but i’m… not okay?”

you nodded, respecting her answer and silently thanking her for being honest.

“i hoped that we would escape this when we moved. and i’ve been doing everything to protect tara but it didn’t end for sidney prescott— so i assume that it won’t end for us.” she scratched her brow, the stress getting to her. “i’m sorry you got involved.”

“it’s okay, sam. i knew what i was getting into when i dated tara.” you nodded. “if it happened again, i already knew i’d stick around.”

“that’s admirable.”

you felt your heart clench a little when she said that. nobody had ever told you that your desire to stick around was admirable. you always got “clingy” or “overbearing.” that was the first time you’d ever gotten a compliment on it.

“oh! um… thank you.” you stuttered out, a blush flooding your cheeks. you knew that sam meant it too, she wasn’t just saying it to make you feel better. she was genuinely saying it.

“it’s true.” it was.

you tried to push your flustered down into the depths of your mind as you struggled to reach the top shelf with the last of your ingredients. you were definitely taller than tara— everyone was. but not tall enough to face this eight layered shelf.

sam was.

sam was taller. and she made that perfectly clear when she basically pressed up behind you to grab this damn dijon mustard for you.

oh no… oh no… you had to stop those thoughts. you had turned around too quickly, basically coming chest to chest with the girl. she didn’t seem to mind— and you refused to mind.

you had never been this close to her before. your eyes trailed over all her features, taking them in. she looked just like tara… maybe that’s whats got your heart beating at the speed of light.

but she wasn’t tara. no, she was sam. and you found that to be what sealed the deal for you.

you found her pretty.

you remained silent as you finished off the last of the ingredient collection. you walked over to the self check-out, scanning the items as the blush continued to make its presence known as sam hovered.

you shuffled some things around in your pocket to try and find your card but before you knew it, sam was paying for your groceries.

“what—“ you tried to protest but the transaction had gone through already.

sam didn’t know what overcame her.

it was her way of taking care of you.

it was even her way of apologising to you.

"sam, you didn't have to do that." you shook your head at her.

"my treat, i didn't get to cook for everyone so this is my way of contributing." she shook you off. you knew that was a lie because mindy sent you a photo of meals you missed, one being sam's.

there was no undoing it now. you sighed and reached for the bags, but sam was one step ahead of you, grabbing them and walking out of the store.

you wished you could wash the blush off with soap.

𓆪𓆩 𓆪𓆩 𓆪𓆩 𓆪𓆩 𓆪𓆩

when you arrived for dinner with your groceries. everyone was already at the carpenter’s apartment. they were spread out across the entire floor, conversing with each other.

you got to cooking almost immediately, knowing that everyone had potentially been there for a while. sam left your side to talk to quinn.

you kept feeling eyes on you.

the shorter carpenter sister was talking to mindy when she felt her attention turn away from her and onto you. she watched you cook, she actually always loved your cooking.

she loved when you would make a dinner catered just to her. she actually missed how lively the kitchen used to be when you were in it. you were even dancing around now, your headphones tucked over your ear.

she smiled a little at how you shook your waist to the music. everyone knew not to bother you so you could get it done quicker.

but tara wanted to bother you. she wanted to approach you and say something, anything to break the silence.

you were friends before everything went down. she thought that maybe she could at least salvage that, that would be her way to redemption.

mindy kept talking and talking before cutting herself off suddenly, realising that tara was no longer paying attention.

“tara, don’t.” mindy said, disappointment clear in her tone. “this is something you need to give time to.”

“there’s been a lot of time.” tara muttered, glaring at mindy.

“you can’t just break her heart and expect her to let you back in so quickly.” mindy held her shoulder back.

“i know it won’t be quick, but i have to try.” tara said through her teeth, pulling her shoulder out of mindy’s grasp and starting to make her way towards you.

tara stopped on her heels when she saw her sister already take your attention. she thought that she’d better not interrupt you.

“whatcha listening to?” sam asked you, her arms crossed over her chest.

you pulled your headphones back a little.

“sloppy jane.” you said.

“sloppy jane? what kind of name is that?!” sam laughed.

“she’s cool! i promise!” you raised your hands up in defense. you took your headphones off your head, you gently placed them on sam. your hands nicking strands of her long hair before you pulled them away.

she held eye contact with her as her head bobbed to the music, you matched the bobbing, knowing which part of the song she was on.

a smile formed on her face while you two were in sync. your eyes started to crinkle up with a smile as your hair started getting in your face when you headbanged. she joined you until the kitchen was filled with laughter.

“okay… okay. i see it now. she has a good sound.” sam agreed with you, placing the headphones back on you but leaving an ear open.

“thank you.” you chuckled, moving the beef strips into the bowl you intended to serve it in.

“this smells soooo good.” sam practically moaned out, you laughed at the noise she made.

“well, you’re gonna have to wait like everyone else!” you teased.

she groaned and rolled her eyes. you liked seeing her loosen up a bit more, you were grateful she was getting more comfortable around you.

as you two laughed, tara stared on.

she remembered when she was in sam’s place. she even felt herself grow jealous at her sister. why did she ever think that what she was doing to you was okay? your heart was gold and tara thought she had turned it dark— she realised your golden heart’s integrity never faltered. you were still just as good.

she was cruel and she broke your heart. she didn’t think she would regret it— until she suddenly felt all that guilt wash over her. was she regretting it?

you enlisted sam to help you bring all your dishes to the table.

“beef stroganoff, pasta, and rice. choose your carb to go with it and enjoy!” you presented your meal to the group.

everyone admired your work and sat down at the table. you ended up sitting beside mindy who talked your ear off about some pottery class that she and anika took.

you glanced over at sam first, her eyes meeting yours during her conversation with ethan. you two exchanged heartfelt smiles, you had a good day because of each other.

then you looked at tara, who was already looking at you. her first serving was practically gone. you knew that she loved one thing about you, and it was your cooking. she held a sadness behind those eyes, you saw into it, but you had your doubts that it was sadness.

when you noticed her plate, you felt yourself flash her a smile too. she returned it, it was shy but still genuine. her plate was cleaned up just seconds after everyone served themselves.

crumbs of you, tara would take. she cherished that smile you gave to her, even if it was forced or accidental. it filled her brain.

𓆪𓆩 𓆪𓆩 𓆪𓆩 𓆪𓆩 𓆪𓆩

washing up had to be done, you wanted do it yourself, saying how you were on a roll from cooking that you wanted to do the cleaning too.

sam was about to speak up but suddenly, tara found her voice.

“i’ll help!” she said, chirping up. everyone looked at her with confusion. they didn’t expect that she would do that for you.

“oh… okay!” you said, making your way over to the kitchen.

you scrubbed the plates and handed them to her to dry. it was a good system that worked.

“you did well with dinner today. your cooking is always good.” tara smiled at you.

“thank you, tara. i appreciate it.” your lips pressed into a thin line.

“i just wanted to say that.” she put the plates onto the drying rack. “we haven’t spoken in a while.”

“i know. i just wanted to give you space. i felt like i wasn’t much help to you ever. and i felt like i wouldn’t be much help now.” you confessed. “but i want to stick around, i would be a pretty shit person if i didn’t.”

she felt horrible that you thought that you wouldn’t be help. in fact, there were some nights that tara found herself longing for you.

“we were friends before this, do you think we’d be able to get back to that?” she asked, searching your face for hope. but all she saw was doubt.

“maybe, tara.” you turned to her, handing her the last of the dishes. you saw the dejected look on her face and sighed. you wanted to go back to that too, you missed the tara that was a good friend to you. “but we can try.”

tara’s face lit up, a bit of shock also hidden between the lines. “okay! yeah… let’s try.” she put the dish away and held her hand out, you chuckled but you shook it.

what you failed to see was your maybe friend’s sister staring at you both from the living room, her jaw tightened as tara touched you.

sam zoned back into the conversation, realising that the show they were watching was long gone and replaced by the news again.

there was another death.

sam erupted in her anger, suddenly storming into the kitchen, grabbing the sharpest knife that she owned.

you had no idea what just happened, tara followed her sister back to the living room, the commotion having everyone sit up.

“sam! slow down!” tara yelled after her sister, you joined them after putting the dishes away. “can we please think about this before you decide to abandon my college education?!”

you couldn’t blame sam for wanting to leave. this was something that she just wanted to escape. as much as you would be upset, you would understand. you’d help, even.

you would help them pack up if it meant they were away from everything. you were prepared to never speak of the carpenter sisters again, in hopes that they would never have to go through this again.

“this can’t just be a coincidence, tara!” sam yelled back at her. today was the day where you saw the genetic stubbornness displayed by the carpenter sisters.

“quinn, can you please call your dad?!” tara asked their roommate, quinn immediately nodded. you could tell she didn’t want to get yelled at by sam but it was a reasonable point of action.

ring!!!

everyone flinched. you didn’t. it was just a phone ringing to you, but to everyone else, it was so much more.

sam’s phone blared on the table, she walked over only to see that it was gale weathers, she declined the call without a doubt.

you watched as quinn travelled across the room, telling sam that her father wanted to speak to her. you heard the muffled voice of mr. bailey from where you were standing.

“okay, thank you. i’ll be right there.” sam hung up. “he wants me down at the station.”

“i’ll drive you.” you said, grabbing your keys. “i live close to the station.”

“you shouldn’t have to—“ you cut sam off.

“no. i will. no man left behind, remember?” you said, firm in your decision. sam sighed but nodded.

𓆪𓆩 𓆪𓆩 𓆪𓆩 𓆪𓆩 𓆪𓆩

you, sam, and tara made it out the door and started to walk to your car.

suddenly, sam’s phone rang again. the two girls stopped when they saw the name displayed on the screen.

richie kirsch.

richie? you recognized that name. you huddled closer to the sisters, closing your eyes to rack your memory for where you knew that name.

no. wait.

it couldn’t be. he was dead, wasn’t he?

“don’t pick that up.” tara said, looking up at sam.

sam hesitated, but it could be important. these calls were life or death for them. she picked up.

you looked at your surroundings. you suddenly felt so exposed, like anything could happen to you now that you weren’t in the comforts of your own home— or anyone’s home.

“who is this?” sam asked into the phone. you couldn’t hear the responses, only sam’s facial expressions changing as time went on.

her eyebrows furrowed, her eyes changed. you saw woodsboro glaze her pupils, you knew she was thinking back to her life before the city. everything was resurfacing.

“i want you to think long and hard about whether or not you wanna do this because the last two people that fucked with us ended up dead.” she said, planting her feet down with determination.

your eyes started to tear away from sam, not absorbing the conversation.

bad gut feeling.

you had to stop ignoring those.

“you better watch your back, asshole.” sam said.

and tara yelled.

a cloaked figure sporting a ghostface mask suddenly grabbed tara, you sprung into action. tara elbowed the figure and you shoved him into the bike rack.

“go!” you said, running just behind the two sisters.

“there!” sam redirected you into a little corner store. you stood with your front to the door while the girls yelled at the cashier to help them, starting a fight with someone in line.

suddenly ghostface walked in.

you backed up into sam, pushing her backwards a little bit while one of the customers stood tall in front of the infamous killer.

you watched as ghostface drove their knife into the man, multiple times.

you gasped, your hand flying to your mouth. you had never seen anyone get killed before. you thought ghostface had specific targets, this wasn’t just an ordinary killer, this killer wasn’t afraid to take any life that stood in his way.

you turned around and the three of you flooded into the back of the store as the clerk wielded his gun.

when the first gunshot rang, sam’s arm flew to cover you as chips flew everywhere. tara was crouched just beside the two of you.

suddenly, there was a second gunshot. but only after you heard the clerk start begging for his life.

you tried to stay quiet, you didn’t realise where parts of your body were. you had a hand on sam’s abdomen, bunching her shirt into your fist. you were terrified, you had never gone through this before. you couldn’t imagine what sam & tara were feeling.

you couldn’t move— or else he would know where you were.

the corner store was quiet, it was like a cruel game of cat and mouse. you heard crunching as the sound of boots got closer to you.

all three of you rounded the corner to avoid detection. sam hid behind a freezer while you and tara hid behind the shelving. you saw sam’s eyes flicker to a can on the ground and you knew what she was trying to say.

carefully, you reached out and picked the can off the floor. it was disgusting and sticky. was this what they had to result to when defending themselves? putting themselves in disgusting situations? you felt twisted picturing them going through this once— now twice.

you threw the can across the corner store, hearing boots walk in the other direction. it was a successful distraction. the three of you started crawling towards the exit.

when you heard the boots stop moving again, you paused. sam leaned forward, you could tell that she could see a lot clearer than you. she slowly inched towards the shelving, then she suddenly shoved it with her shoulder, knocking it down.

god, she was strong.

had she been training herself to get stronger? in case this happened again?

the three of you hauled ass to the exit, being met with cop cars and their sirens.

the three of you were escorted into the cars. the sisters rode in one while you went in the other. you fidgeted with your fingers. then it was daunting on you.

baby’s first ghostface attack.

𓆪𓆩 𓆪𓆩 𓆪𓆩 𓆪𓆩 𓆪𓆩

you sat in an interrogation room at the precinct. the walls were closing in on you.

you had been close to death before. you remember when you and your parents got into that gnarly car accident that had you coming out with several broken bones and whiplash. you cradled your arm, feeling the after-effects of the worst injury you sustained.

but this wasn't a car t-boning yours. this was a killer.

and you felt like death was kissing your cheek.

you didn't know where sam and tara were, you assumed a different interrogation room. you were waiting for ages, you thought that maybe someone was attending to them first.

you sat in silence for about ten more minutes, trying to decompress the situation.

the lock clicked and the door swung open, revealing detective bailey. you had met quinn's dad in passing, never really speaking to him.

"mr. bailey. how are you?" you asked him, sitting up in your chair. you noticed he had files in his hand. this was going to take longer than you wanted.

"i'm good. thank you... how are you doing? you weren't around for woodsboro, i'm sure it's a bit of a shock to be involved now." straight into it.

"a bit is an understatement, sir." you let out a dry chuckle. "i'm assuming you're going to be asking me more than just 'how are you' though..."

"i'm sorry. i know you're probably tired." he sighed, you nodded. you were trying to hold back a yawn.

"it's fine."

he sat down across from you, opening the file and putting its contents in front of you.

"you're the newest addition to the group, quinn has talked about you. i know you and tara had a past relationship. were you frequently in and out of their apartment?" he asked.

"yeah... tara and i were together for a bit. i usually visited her and i also hang out with mindy and chad, so yes, i was frequently at theirs." you nodded, you often found that honesty was the best policy with these things.

"i know that your relationship with her ended badly." he stated, you scoffed.

"surely a bad break-up isn't enough motivation to go on these killing sprees, right?" you asked, a bit offended.

"sometimes it might just be."

"did you have access to sam carpenter's belongings?" he followed up. what did sam's stuff have to do with this?

"um... no. not really. i never really interacted with sam until ghostface was rumored to resurface. and even then, i don't really have that access." you crossed your arms across your chest, your eyes scanning the photos on the desk. you spotted a photo of sam's license, bloodied and dumped at the scene of the crime.

someone was trying to frame her.

"we found sam's license next to the body."

"well she was with me all day. we went grocery shopping and i cooked everyone dinner." you quickly jumped at the chance to defend her. "tara was there too."

mr. bailey nodded at you confirming their alibi.

"sam said the same thing." he reassured you. he leaned in a bit closer to you. "although, i'd be cautious about those sisters. especially sam. i wouldn't get too close."

your brows furrowed in frustration.

"i'm sure i have nothing to worry about. they're good people." you didn't want to speak any further on the matter.

you hated that the thought of either of them being responsible for these deaths even crossed the detective's mind. he was supposed to be helping them.

two knocks against the door turned the detective's attention to another officer walking into the room.

"the fbi is here." the officer said. detective bailey looked confused.

"the fbi? where?" he stood up then turned to you. "you're free to go. i think sam and tara are waiting for you."

you stood from your seat and followed him, making your way over to the two dark-haired sisters. tara was the first to spot you, nudging sam until she turned around.

you sped up, you didn't know what it was. you just had to make sure she was real.

you wrapped your arms around sam. you felt her tense up out of shock but return the gesture.

"i'm sorry." you apologised for the sudden hug.

"it's okay." sam smiled warmly.

you turned to tara and put a hand on her shoulder, squeezing softly.

tara's eyes met yours. those pleading doe eyes, they wanted more than just a squeeze on the shoulder. she wished she was sam in that moment.

"i'm really glad you two are okay." you cleared your throat. sam smiled at you, even if it was forced, it was nice to see.

you heard two voices chatting just a little bit aways from you. sam started moving towards them, you and tara followed behind.

"kirby?" she spoke, getting the attention of a blonde woman.

"hey sam." kirby replied, moving to hug sam as well.

"do you know each other?" bailey asked.

"yeah... we went to woodsboro high together. she was a senior when i was a freshman." sam clarified. you studied the woman in front of you.

all you could say was that she looked cool. she was an fbi agent that had been monitoring the sisters for a little while. you realised that this had been the kirby involved with the killings too. they shared a very unique experience between each other.

you stayed behind sam while they conversed. kirby was handed the mask that was left at the scene. the mask used in the 2011 killings. kirby lifted her shirt to show the scar that charlie walker gave her.

sam looked uncomfortable. she realised then that this was bigger than just a killing spree, they were trying to send a message.

kirby proposed you all worked together but sam interjected, not giving her the chance to finish.

"we're getting out of town." she pushed through kirby and detective bailey.

"i'm sorry, that's not possible. you're both persons of interest. all three of you are." bailey warned.

"are you serious?" tara stepped forward, the growing frustration evident in her voice.

"he's right." kirby confirmed. "but if we work together-"

"we're going." sam basically barked an order at you and tara.

"my car's back at your place." you said. sam nodded. a small part of her brain was happy that you would be around after that.

𓆪𓆩 𓆪𓆩 𓆪𓆩 𓆪𓆩 𓆪𓆩

when the three of you made your way out of the precinct, you had never seen so many cameras before. reporters swarmed the three of you, immediately asking sam questions like if she had an alibi or if tara felt safe with her sister.

they didn't pay you any mind, how could they? you were fresh meat to the group, they didn't care about your story. luckily, it allowed you to mercilessly shove them back, helping make space for sam and tara to walk through the flood.

you found yourself holding onto sam's waist, pulling her towards the open spots you've created with your body pushing against the reporters.

"gale weathers." a voice sounded out in the crowd, causing the sisters to stop in their tracks. you knew that name too, it felt like an endless revision on who was who, if you had studied well enough. "do you ladies think that you're the reason that the ghostface killer has come to the big apple?" she asked.

you saw it in sam. she snapped. she'd had a long night, she nearly lost her life. she nearly lost her sister. and her... friend.

she swung with her fist out.

"sam!" you exclaimed as gale ducked, avoiding the punch. you pulled sam's waist back, you knew she didn't need another video of her going viral. she put her hands over yours, allowing you to hold her back. you had to admit, it felt nice knowing you had a bit of pull on her.

although, you failed to account for the shorter carpenter sister. you failed to catch her pulling her elbow back and swinging at gale with a force of her own.

you jumped at the noise made by the contact and had to hold back a laugh at gale's shocked face. sam cracked a smile, she couldn't help herself.

"stay away from us." tara spat at gale.

you two turned to walk towards a cab that was parked outside the station. you pushed sam slightly by her waist, hoping she wouldn't turn back around.

but gale weathers just had to say something.

"are you two seriously still mad about what happened?"

"you wrote a book. about them." she didn't expect you to say anything. she didn't know who you were or what you were to the carpenters. she looked at you as if you were irrelevant, like another body that ghostface could dispose of just to raise the numbers.

"and who are you?" she asked, a snark in her voice.

"doesn't matter. you took advantage of them. of the fact that they lost their friends, they nearly lost each other." you shook your head. "i remember you, from tara's stories."

tara watched you fight back. how could you still do that after she hurt you? you were full of surprises. she had never seen your tongue so laced with venom before.

"you lost someone too. dewey... if someone kept shoving that down your throat, how would you feel?" you asked, glaring her way as sam and tara entered the cab. gale's stance shifted, she was uncomfortable with a stranger knowing so much information about her personal life. but then again, she put the carpenter sisters' life out there for the whole world to see.

"i remember your book too. you called sam unstable, you painted her in the worst light possible. and i thought you had been through enough with her to know that that's not true." you turned back to the two girls, opening the door to the back of the cab for them.

sam's face was unreadable as she hopped into the car. she stared at the back of your head, or more like the back of your seat. you stood up for her, breaking your kind and golden-hearted demeanour. she was worried that being in this situation would change you for the worst.

you sat in silence after telling the driver where to go. leaning back into your seat, you tried to keep your eyes open. you hadn't gotten any sleep since last night, your time divided between the carpenter residence and the station.

there was so little to say and yet so many words were jumbled in your brain.

when you arrived at the carpenter's apartment, you yawned as you exited the cab. sam caught you do so and stopped you before you could unlock your car. her hand covered yours, gripping it in her own.

"you should rest here for a little bit. you're too tired to drive." she said, looking down at you. you wanted to get home and sleep in your own bed but you knew she was right.

you put your car keys away and walked upstairs with them.

tara immediately made a beeline for the bathroom. she always showered after coming home, she couldn't go a day without smelling like vanilla.

sam put pillows and blankets down on their couch and walked into her room, coming back out with some clothes.

"you can change into these for now, you might as well make yourself comfortable. and you can sleep for as long as you want." she said, you took the clothes and nodded at her.

she sat down on the couch and pulled the blanket up slightly to cover herself, you grabbed the blanket to stop her.

"what are you doing? i'll take the couch." you said, furrowing your brows.

"no. you'll take my bed." she looked up at you from the couch.

"it's your damn bed, sam." you didn't mean to sound so ill-mannered but the tiredness was getting the best of you.

"i know. so i'll do with it as i please." you know it was just her trying to show that she cared. "so you're taking it."

you sighed sharply, you were about to take a massive risk.

"share it with me." you said, holding your ground. you didn't want to kick sam out of her own bed.

she saw the determination on your face. you two were going to sit here and bicker if she didn't give in now. she nodded, standing up and making her way back to her room.

you changed into sam's clothes, her scent wafting as the shirt fell over your figure. then you cracked the door open enough to slip yourself into her room.

just as you entered sam's room, tara came out of the bathroom. she had the look of a shattered woman on her face, you should have been going into her room. she should have offered first.

you shut the door behind you, walking towards the bed where sam was sitting. you spotted her nursing her hand, spotting a deep cut from crawling on glass at the bodega.

"sam, you should've gotten that taken care of." you scolded her a little, walking to her bathroom and grabbing a medkit you knew was there. tara had told you that she put one in every bathroom.

you knelt in front of sam, unpacking the kit to grab the antiseptic and a bandage.

"it's fine, it's only a cut." she protested.

"if ghostface doesn't get you, an infected cut will. and i think that's extremely embarrassing." you tried to make light of it, your exhaustion washing over you. "this'll hurt."

you dabbed the antiseptic into sam's cut. she hissed at the sting. but the sight in front of her was better. you, in her clothes, patching her up. this was probably the worst time for her to form a crush, and probably the worst person to form it on. her sister's ex-girlfriend, who was now involved in the ghostface killings. but your soft features, your concern for her, it was hard to resist you.

she chalked it up to exhaustion, maybe this crush would fade away when she was in her right mind.

but when you situated yourself next to her in bed, your respectful nature forcing you to leave ample space so you two weren't touching each other, she hoped that she would one day earn the honour of closing that gap.

as she closed her eyes, she listened in to your soft breathing. and even when you accidentally ended up shoulder to shoulder in bed,

sam refused to move.

𓆪𓆩 𓆪𓆩 𓆪𓆩 𓆪𓆩 𓆪𓆩

author's journal okay i actually spent way too much time on this chapter, i had to write out the first 30 minutes of scream vi with a reader insert so it was a little bit more cohesive with the storyline. i don't know how i feel about this one chapter in particular but i'm starting to see the vision for the rest of the series teehee. i promise it wont just be the whole movie written down but it'll definitely have canon events. next chapter is most likely going to be non-canon as much as possible just cause this is a romance fic at the end of the day.

also this is the song i intended for the reader to be listening to with sam

[ierofrnkk]

the sum of his parts - steven grant

Summary: You love Steven Grant, and there are some parts of him that stick out in your mind a little more than others. (~1.2k)

Content: 18+, gn!reader but reader has a vagina (no fem pronouns used), very brief & vague oral (f receiving), fingering, egregious use of italics.

a/n: This is the first thing I’ve really ever fully written AND posted!! Forgive me for it being vague and unpolished—I will get better!! I’ve just been so captivated by these boys after watching Moon Knight that I had to write something!

—

You love Steven as a whole, the culmination of all things that make him him, but it doesn’t mean that you don’t notice the little things.

The details.

—

The first thing you loved about Steven was his hair; the way that the curls were always pushed to one side, sitting atop his head like his brush had broken and he’d neglected to buy a new one.

It was one of the first things you touched when you finally had the opportunity to, making up some story about how he’d had a shred of paper stuck to one of his curls—he hadn’t, but he didn’t need to know that.

You couldn’t get enough of the soft texture, even after months of getting to experience it. You had your hands in his hair every chance that you got.

When the two of you lay on the couch together, him cuddled against your chest as you watched the next documentary about the evolution of earth’s marine life, or something, you would drag your fingers through his hair idly. He would sigh in appreciation of the gentle touch.

When he’d be in a flurry early in the morning, racing to get ready on time before he missed the bus, you caught him for the briefest moments to smooth your palm across his unruly curls, taming the locks as best you could before he raced out the door.

When he’d settle himself between your thighs, mouth on your cunt like he’d die if you pulled him away, you’d tangle your fingers in those same dark curls, tightening your grip just enough to keep him in place. He always sighed appreciatively then, too.

—

The next thing you’d found yourself loving about Steven were his eyes, always wide like saucers and taking in every ounce of information that they can. The color of them always reminded you of coffee, but specifically the cups that he’d make for you in the early hours of the morning, perfect like no one else could.

You’re stupidly fond of the way he looks at you when you talk—it could be the most mundane thing, like laundry or dinner, and he’d be watching you so intently it’d feel like you’re giving a presentation on newly-unearthed artifacts in Cairo.

You remember the first time he cried in front of you. It was over something that seems so simple now; the two of you had made plans for dinner at your apartment, and he’d shown up late—through no fault of his own, the train wasn’t on schedule—but he’d felt so guilty about it that it brought him to tears. You can still see the way he looked in your mind: brows knit together, those beautifully dark eyes rimmed red and filled with tears.

He’d apologized profusely, and you silenced him with a kiss.

You like the way he looks when he’s half asleep, doing his best to fight his drowsiness to spend as much time with you as physically possible. His gaze is softer, somehow, his eyes half-lidded even with the way he fights to keep them wide open. That’s when you know he’s not going to last much longer before he’s out for the night.

When you’re kissing him, and you pull back for that brief, glorious moment, his eyes are dark, pupils blown with desire in a way that sends a wave of heat to your core.

You don’t miss the way those pretty eyes of his flutter shut whenever you touch him, even if it’s something simple; he’s touch-starved—not that he’ll ever admit that to you—so any physical show of affection is nearly enough to put him over the edge.

You’ve become familiar with the way he drifts, his eyes seeming to haze over and go unfocused—when he goes away for a moment—caught in his own reflection and watching as if there’s something else there with him.

—

You’ve quickly grown to become fond of his hands, in many more ways than just one.

You’d be lying if you said that you didn’t want to hold his hand all the time, to feel the warmth of his palm against your own, fingers interlaced with yours in the way that makes you feel like nothing could separate you two. He made sure to hold your hand at every opportunity.

You’re very grateful for that.

When he takes one of his hundreds of books off of his bookshelf, flipping through page after page as he looks for a specific section, you can’t help but watch his hands. He moves with ease and precision, stark from the way he’s usually fumbling or unsure of where to go. He’s in his element, and you recognize that.

When he joins you on your monthly grocery trip, he insists on bringing all of the bags up in one go—he’s trying to be helpful, even if it means making things more difficult for him; that’s just how Steven is. Selfless. You can’t get enough of the sight of him like that, though, with multiple grocery bags held in each hand, all while he does his best to navigate your apartment complex.

You remember the first time he truly, properly held your hand; he’d done it in such a Steven way that you couldn’t deny him. He’d gone off on some spiel about human evolution and something about how in ancient civilizations, the size of your hands denoted status—you can see where this is going—and he insisted the two of you compared the size of your hands. For the sake of anthropology, of course.

Knowing what he was getting at, you obliged, pressing your palm to his, and without a beat of hesitation, he laced his fingers with your own, a sheepish grin on his face as a result of his boldness. You couldn’t even be mad about it.

Of course, those hands of his are good for more than just holding yours or carrying your groceries.

—

The first time he made you come was with his hands; he was too impatient to even wait to fuck you properly—he just had to touch you—so, he did.

You remember the feeling of his hands on your thighs, shifting and adjusting you until you were in a good position for him. He had made sure to not be too rough with you, even in his desperation. Sweet, considerate Steven.

His hands, as fidgety and hesitant as they usually are, were precise and sure when he touched you. He moved deftly when he found your slit, dragging his fingers through the wetness that’d already gathered there.

It wasn’t long after until one of those same thick fingers pushed into your heat, then another. It’s practiced—efficient— like he’s done this for you a thousand times, even though you both know he hasn’t.

When his thumb had brushed your clit, with just enough pressure to send another wave of heat up your spine, you knew you were done for. He had looked at you with those eyes, pupils blown and eyes half-lidded, and you could tell right then that he was more focused on your pleasure than his own.

When you finish, you card your fingers through his raven curls, holding just enough to bring him close enough that you can kiss him.

He goes willingly, all sweet and pliant as you maneuver him closer, and you’ve never been more grateful to have someone like him.

—

Steven is much, much more than just the sum of his parts, but you sometimes have to put him under a microscope and appreciate everything that makes him him.

[d1xonss]

Daryl with a fem reader who’s love language is physical touch? Like whenever they’re cuddling she’s always burying her head into his side or neck. Or another one is acts of service so imagine when they first came to Alexandria she noticed Daryl was the only one in the group who still hasn’t bathed so she offered to do it for him.. he just sits in front of her in the bath while she cleans his hair and scrubs his body

Soap and Bubbles

✧ Pairing : Daryl Dixon x Reader

✧ Era : Season 5

✧ Pronouns : she/her

✧ Genre : Fluff

✧ Word Count : 1.1k

AN ~ I’ve been slacking on requests big time:( But recently I got my wisdom teeth removed and the whole recovery has been kicking my ass, so sadly I just haven’t felt motivated to write anything new. Though I’m hoping this lil oneshot makes up for it and you guys don’t completely hate me lol.

Hope you enjoy! xoxox

He was stubborn. You were persistent. It was like when an unstoppable force meets an immovable object. But in the end it was almost painfully obvious who won those battles most of the time.

When the group first arrived to Alexandria; a safe haven that was gifted to you by the grace of God himself, it was no secret that Daryl was one of the first who didn’t trust it. He was constantly tense and on high alert most of the time, when in reality there was never any real danger to begin with. But his thoughts seemed to haunt him, not necessarily because he felt the constant need to protect himself, but because he felt the constant need to protect you.

You were the most precious thing to him, like a delicate flower that he was constantly worried about squishing under his boot if he wasn’t too careful. And just the thought of you being in this unknown place that none of you really knew, it was safe to say it took him a while to even sleep. And it took him even longer to feel comfortable enough to bathe.

After the first few days of getting comfortable in the new community, you couldn’t help but notice that Daryl was the only one who hadn’t taken advantage of the luxury that was given. He hadn’t slept on one of the actual beds, he hadn’t even eaten any of the food that was stocked to the brim in each of the houses. The man just continuously hunted for his own food nearly every single day instead, working for it as if he felt like he had to. And he was one of the last people to use the nice new bathroom that everyone else had been hogging.

It was hard seeing him like this, knowing without even having to ask that he was slightly uncomfortable here. In the end when the place didn’t seem that dangerous, you knew he only really stayed so you had a roof over your head, and that was it. He always seemed to put you first before anything else and it never failed to melt your heart in the best way. But at the same time, you wanted to help him. You wanted to ease him into everything so he could learn to eventually call this place home.

Which is why you ever so slowly tried to coax him into taking a bath. Like a dog who was afraid of water.

“Nah.” was his original answer when you first asked him, that stubbornness really shining through as he put his foot down at the idea. Knowing that he didn’t feel safe enough to be so vulnerable.

But then you offered to help him, and that seemed to change the game as his interest piqued.

So after just a little more convincing, you finally got him into the tub filled with warm water, even adding some bubbles just to make it a little more enjoyable. And although he scoffed at the sight, he clearly wasn’t complaining as he practically melted into the warm water.

You sat yourself behind him as you ran your fingers through his hair, gently massaging his scalp as you cleaned it with a fresh shampoo. His eyes fluttered closed at your softness when touching him, even letting out a satisfied groan or grunt here and there just to let you know how much he was enjoying it. You couldn’t help but smile to yourself every time he did so, dragging the process out just a little bit longer upon seeing how relaxed he was.

Your nails gently scratched his scalp every once and a while which you knew he thoroughly enjoyed, loving the soothing feeling you provided as he slowly came to the conclusion that maybe it wasn’t so bad after all. His muscles twitched as you rinsed the bubbles out of his hair, feeling the warmth running down his back.

A smile stretched across your lips as you looked down at him, “Feel good?”

He nodded slowly as he let out a long and satisfied sigh, keeping his eyes closed as he was certain he could fall asleep within seconds. “Thank you.” he muttered.

Your face softened at his gratitude, “You’re welcome.” your sweet voice spoke, leaning down to place a kiss on top of his head.

He smiled to himself when he felt the touch of your lips, relaxing even more as you continued on for however long you wished. He wasn’t complaining, nor was he going to stop you anytime soon.

You then ran some conditioner through his hair, being able to run your fingers through the full length of it smoothly as you removed all the tangles. It smelled like heaven and it made his hair feel nearly brand new after not having it clean and fresh in so long. You then took your time washing his body, which to him was his favorite part of this whole thing. Your hands worked delicately, watching the soap run down his arms and chest as the remaining dirt just melted off his body.

A few more cuts were now more prominent on his skin as you continued to wash him, making some kind of mental note to help him clean those when he got out of the porcelain bowl. With being on the road for so long you had no idea how long they had been there, now being thankful you had everything you needed to fix him up. Seeing him constantly putting you before him in every single scenario, you wanted to do the same for him whenever you could. Though he was thick headed and usually refused, he did occasionally like being showered with affection like this.

Once you were done and the water was now a bit colder, you opened your mouth to tell him that he should probably get out. But you stopped yourself upon seeing the look on his face, seeing him finally looking content for the first time in months. You figured a few more minutes wouldn’t hurt as you began to drag your nails through his hair again.

“I love you.”

It was so soft you almost didn’t catch it. But the second his words met your ears you couldn’t help but freeze. He had never said that to you before.

Though you knew he always loved you, showing it in the little ways he knew how, you knew he felt a deep love for you that he couldn’t even describe. His actions speaking much louder volumes than words ever could. But now hearing him admit it out loud, you could feel a warmth spreading through your chest as you smiled, continuing to run your fingers through his hair as if to pretend it didn’t affect you as much as it did.

“I love you too.”

~ Thanks for reading!

[routeless-writer]

Adored your lilia smut

can I request body worship and breeding link with lilia??

ANON YOU ARE SPEAKING MY LANGUAGE RN. Thank you hun! I’m so glad you and so many people liked it, I honestly didn’t expect it to blow up like it did! Happy to write for my favorite old man.

MC pronouns: GN/NB (no pronouns used, implied they/them)

CW: NSFW, breeding kink/breeding talk, pregnancy talk, excessive praise/body worship, Lilia being a brat dom, Lilia also being filthy, mod mezzo ALSO being filthy, oral sex mentions (reader receiving), marking, blood/biting/vampirism mention (it’s Lilia, so), light light LIGHT possessiveness, the slightest degradation (I use slut like once), i say he’s a tits man and then clarify that the tits are gender neutral and just mean your chest.

Listening to: Casket – Ren Zotto

Now Lilia is a dom that’s heavy on praise

He will absolutely degrade you if you ask for it, but his favorite thing is watching you squirm from even the smallest of compliments. He wants his baby bat to know how much he loves them!! Especially when you have just the cutest reactions to it.

Think Gomez Addams if Gomez was a switch leaning dom (because Mr. Addams is like, canonically a sub lol)

He follows you around a lot, even more so when he’s horny or finds himself having…baby fever, shall we say?

He can’t help it! He’s been wanting to raise another kid and all, and the thought of getting to spend a domestic life with you…the thought of you carrying his child…even if you physically can’t, he still finds himself hot and bothered at the idea. Plus, adoption is always something you two could discuss if you were serious about the actual breeding portion of the breeding kink, but wouldn’t be able to have kids/didn’t want to go through pregnancy.

Unless you’re shorter than him, he’ll likely be the perfect height for him to rest on your chest, and even if you are shorter than him, I can see him being quite attached to your upper body, regardless of whether there is boobage there or not and regardless of level of boobage.

What can I say, he’s a tits man (read tits as gender neutral)

So it’s the first thing he goes for with praise

He’ll casually slide a hand up your shirt at any given time to feel you up, resting his head on your shoulder and humming little compliments in your ear about how soft your skin is, how warm you are, how he just wants to bite down on your cute little nipples and–oh, look at that! They’re already hard hehe

“Khehehe, are you that sensitive, darling? Don’t worry, if it works you up that much, I’ll make sure to take care of you. I love the way your body reacts to just the slightest touch…so gorgeous.”

Lils is an oral fiend, too, and it’s one of his favorite ways to worship you. He’d gladly get on his knees for his precious baby bat at the drop of a hat. Holding your hips in place as he nestles between your thighs and tastes your arousal, his eyes rolling back dramatically so he can show you just how sweet you are to him. Don’t move too much, darling. It’s his job to pleasure you!

“So good. So good for me…you taste perfect…such a sweet pet, all the blood rushing here…be careful, I might just devour you.~”

Obviously it’s hard for him to be vocal with his tongue on your clit/your cock down his mouth, so the heavy praise comes when he finally gets to fuck you.

Lilia typically either opts for doggy or mating press. He loves seeing you ass up, face buried into the pillow as he rams into you, but when his breeding kink flares up, that’s when he prefers the second option.

He likes to see your face when he fucks into you and talks about how cute your red cheeks are, how he wants to stuff you full and fill you up. And he talks. He doesn’t know how to shut his mouth unless he’s using it to get you off.

He’s also generally just very playful and giggly during sex. A brat dom, if you will, so expect plenty of teasing on his end about how needy you look with your legs hiked up like that.

“Pretty little thing, all folded over under me. Look at me, let me see your expression. Ah….mmnh, take my fingers in your mouth, just like you take my cock. Tight little bloodpet…you’re so perfect, little one. I want to see it, I want to see you all full and fucked out. That’s nice isn’t it? You’d love to be knocked up, you’d love to be pumped full of my cum. Awe, look at you. Look at you take it. Your hole is so tight around me, so pretty as you bounce on it. That’s it…that’s it, you’re doing so well. So gorgeous…”

He’ll drag your hips closer as he rocks against you, touching you to the pace of his thrusts, and pushing you down further into the bed with the kind of strength you wouldn’t expect someone so small to have.

He kisses and nips at anything he can get his lips on–your neck, your chest, your stomach and thighs. He’s a groper, too, so he’ll watch as his fingers sink into your skin, leaving bruises on your hips and legs.

“You’re going to be so full and sensitive, I’ll watch you get heavy with my child…you’re mine, you’re perfect and you’re mine.”

Usually Lilia’s far more focused on your pleasure than his, but something about the way you’re begging him to empty inside you is sending shockwaves down his spine. It feels like during sessions like this, he loses his well-composed nature altogether. Right before you’re about to cum, tightening up around his aching cock, he’ll lean in and sink his fangs into your neck, pressing a hand to your abdomen to feel how his dick drags along your walls.

That’s enough to do it for you, the aphrodisiac bite making you cum hard around him, and he doesn’t dare pull out as he cums with you, growling into your neck.

Lils is a fae, and faefolk cum a LOT. It’s hot and sticky as he spills inside of you, holding your hips as close to him as he can, fucking into you as you both finish and you shake. It’s enough to drip out without pulling out, much to Lilia’s disappointment. Guess he’ll just have to cum inside you a few more times to make up for it!

Lilia’s the type to make you cockwarm him after breeding sessions. He can’t have his efforts go to waste–you will be knocked up by the end of the night.

“Maybe I should make you keep a toy in overnight. I have to make sure it takes, sweet thing.”

You can expect a quick session right before class the morning after, too. He’s serious! He really wants to raise kids with you, and he’ll do whatever it takes to make that happen.

You two make quite the mess of the bed, cum and blood stains are scattered across the sheets. Lilia will handle the clean up, don’t you worry! He has to make certain that his spent little human rests after such a rough session.

Now that you’ve awakened this kink in him, Lilia’s ready for regular breeding talk during sex. Hope you like being fucked into the mattress and used for hours, cause he’s hellbent on making you his breedslut now.

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[kikyan]

Confession

CW: Yandere content means yandere content y’all, stalking, dub-con/non-con, masturbation, disgusting themes, panty stealer, fingering, oral (receiving), overstimulation, breeding themes(slightly?), creampie, power bottom Idia, slight masochist Idia, kidnapping, shit ass writing, I think that’s all, etc… 

Fandom: Twisted Wonderland 

Character: Idia Shroud x GN! Reader

Word Count: 7.2K words 

A/N: This is a birthday fic for one of my IRL besties, an Idia simp. Another thing, this is a yandere blog so it’s not canon to their personalities at all but more my interpretation of them if THEY were yanderes. So take that as you will! This is with a GN reader so there is no anatomy assigned or pronouns other than they/them (I did proofread it but lmk if there are any errors!)

‘ Click’ 

‘ Click’ 

Yellow eyes darted across from the screens as he was looking at the contents. Classes were over and his homework was completed quicker than he used to have it done. He was still a housewarden with duties and responsibilities after all, besides he needed the rest of the day free to partake in his favorite hobby. Stalking [Reader] of course. He could access several cameras from different angles as he attempted to track them down. 

‘ Where are they? Their class ends around this time and they usually stay a bit longer in the classroom to wait for the freshman and Grim. They’re taking too long. . .shit! Did I miss them? Did they already leave?’ 

Idia frantically typed away at his computer to try to locate them. After a couple of tries, he found [Reader] and Grim, with the freshman of course, walking out of their classroom. Sighing in relief, he continued to observe as normal. Unfortunately, these cameras were limited as they had no audio but it would do for now. 

‘ So they DID stay longer in the classroom. Phew, good thing nothing has changed so far.’ 

The screens were the only source of light in his room as his lights were turned off. He didn’t have any club activities today so he there was no need to leave his room. He sat on his desk chair while holding his knees to his chest. Raising his thumb to his mouth, he bit down on the tip of his nail. How did it come to this? 

~

“We’re going to be late! Crap, where is the housewarden?”

“Doesn’t he have his club? Do you think we can leave it with Ortho?” 

“Uh maybe. . .man why did Professor Trein dump this on us? If only Idia attended in-person classes, but oh well. Oh, wait-[Reader]!” 

[Reader] was walking through the hallways, but turned when they heard their name was called out. There were two students, from the Ignihyde dorm looking stressed. 

“Yes?” 

“Sorry for this, but could you do us a huge favor? Professor Trein asked if we could drop these papers with Houseward Idia, but we can’t find him! Not to mention, we’re already late for our club activities enough as it is! We’ll make it up to you, promise!” 

“Hm, sure I don’t see why not. Not like I have anything better to do, give them here.” 

Sighing in relief, the students wasted no time in handing the documents over to [Reader]. 

“Gosh, you’re a lifesaver! Thank you so much, both Grim and your meal are on us!” 

The students turned and ran off to their club. Leaving [Reader] alone. 

“Grim would appreciate that, it sure saves me money for one day knowing his appetite. Anyways, just where is Idia?”  

[Reader] debated going over to the hall of mirrors and just entering the Ignihyde dorm but they decided against it. It would be too much work if Idia were still on the main campus grounds and they were in their dorm. Was Idia even in a club? If he was, it would be worth it to check some classrooms in case he was. Thinking back on it, it wouldn’t seem likely but it didn’t hurt to check. [Reader] had been walking for about 20 minutes, popping inside classrooms just to survey the area. To no avail, Idia was not in the classroom. 

“Just where could he be? Maybe I should head over to his dorm. Oh, hey Azul!” 

Azul was walking on the opposite side and [Reader] ran up to meet him. 

“Ah, [Reader]. What a coincidence, I would have figured you had returned to your dorm by now.” 

“Normally I would have, but I’m helping some classmates drop off some documents. Hey, this may be a stretch but by any chance, do you know where Idia might be?” 

“ Idia? Oh why, yes I do. He’s still in the classroom. We just finished up our game board club meeting. He lost to me so he’s staying back to finish cleaning up. Why?” 

“He’s the one I’m dropping the documents off to. So, where is the club room?” 

“ Down the hall, turn right and it’s the second door on your left.” 

“ Thank you, Azul! I’ll see you around, kay?” 

“Of course. If you however require my services sooner, you know where to find me.” 

“Nice try, but at the moment I’m not interested in making a deal right now.  Maybe later if I forget to study for an exam.” 

“But of course, take care.” 

Azul left back to his dorm, leaving [Reader] to seek out his directions to the club room. When they arrived, they opened the door to see Idia sitting at the desk on his phone. 

“Oh hey, Idia-” 

Idia jumped in his desk, whipping his head around to stare at [Reader] in a frazzled state. 

“W-what a-are you doing h-here!?” 

“Calm down Idia, not here to hurt you. Anyways, someone asked me to drop off these papers to you. One of your housemates. Anyways, what are you doing?” 

“You c-can leave them on the t-table.” 

Idia’s eyes avoided [Reader’s] and he ignored their question. [Reader] walked closer, leaving the documents on the table as asked. They turned to look at his screen, looking at all the graphics displayed on the screen. 

“That looks interesting, what’s this about?” 

“It’s a game. . .” 

“Right, I can see that. What is it about?” 

Idia continued to advert his gaze, muttering under his breath under the assumption that [Reader] could not hear him. 

“Like you would care. . .” 

“I would actually.” 

A snarky and slightly offended response left [Readers] unamused face. Idia let out a squeak, he didn’t think [Reader] would hear that. [Reader] let out a huff, pulling a chair out and sitting across from Idia. 

“Idia, you know I’m not from here right? I don’t know much about media and franchises here in Twisted Wonderland, but I was interested in content like this back in my world. So humor me, what is this game about?” 

Though he was still unable to look them in the eye, not that [Reader] minded, he continued to explain the game franchise. 

“It’s an adventure-based role-playing game following an adventure party on a mission to take down the demon king. The party consists of characters that you get to pick, unlike most games where you’re given a party member. This game is different because it relies on your choices to advance as well as you making your combat type distinct. It has an online server where you can complete side quests while the main story updates.” 

He spoke fast, never sparing a glance at [Reader]. He was just waiting for them to become uninterested or to look at him in annoyance. He was waiting for the insults and the questionable glances of ‘you’re weird’ and ‘fucking loser’. 

“Hm, so it’s a fantasy-based combat game. Does this mean that all the party members are different fantasy races? I’d like to see the party members that you can pick, or do you get to customize them as well?” 

“ O-oh u-uh. . .” 

Idia has always seen the negative side of everything, but being realistic he didn’t give you enough credit. Sure, most people stop listening after that initial description but a few brave soldiers still stick around until he continues. He’d surely lose your interest with his extensive knowledge of the game's lore. 

“Well, not exactly. You can make your character, but the other party members are already designed and have a story to go with them. All you do is equip weapons and artifacts to strengthen them.” 

“Oh, I love customizable characters. Can I see yours?” 

Alright, so you’re one of those few brave soldiers who may be interested in a nerdy ramble. Idia began to click and swipe at his screen, eventually passing it to [Reader]. [Reader] began to inspect the character, looking at all the features that Idia placed on them. 

“Woah, they look badass. I like your character’s style, but it looks like they aren’t human-like. Are they fantasy-based characters? What kind?” 

Idia couldn’t pinpoint the exact moment it happened, but his face softened and went from stoic to a more relaxed one. His eyes began to shine with passion as he began to talk about his character, gaining [Reader’s] undivided attention. [Reader] nodded and paid attention when he spoke, asking questions about the game’s lore and characters. Idia answered all their questions with a more enthusiastic chirp, throwing some jokes here and there. The atmosphere changed from tense to a more comforting one as they continued to speak losing track of time. 

“. . .but you don’t meet this fantasy race until act III in the game, even then they’re an antagonistic species until you clear the next three acts, that’s when it clears up. Eventually, you can add this character to your party or can update the way your character looks after-” 

The sound of the classroom door opening snapped Idia from his daze, and he turned to look at the door. 

“Idia, here you are!” 

“Ortho. . what are you doing here?” 

“Idia, it’s been three hours since you were supposed to be back. I came to see where you were. Don’t you remember, the new update for the game was dropping later tonight?” 

“Three hours. . .?” 

[Reader] and Idia panicked, both scrambling up from their chairs, 

“ Oh my gosh, I had no idea time went by so fast. I need to get home and do my homework!” 

“I forgot about my game! S-sorry, I probably bugged you with my spiel-” 

“Not at all, Idia! Honestly, this game sounds cool I might check it out. Well, I wish I could considering I don’t have a platform to play it. Crowley is very stingy with what he gives out. I don’t even have a phone to use, or else I would have asked for your contact info. I’ll catch you later, hopefully maybe one of these days I can see you in class. Take care, Ortho!” 

[Reader] patted Ortho’s shoulder before leaving the classroom. Ortho nodded enthusiastically, wishing [Reader] the same. He turned around to where Idia was standing. Idia was quiet, his eyes wide, and on his face was a dopey grin. His cheeks were lightly flushed, adding color to his pale skin. 

“ Iida? What’s wrong?” 

“Ortho, I’m going to class tomorrow.” 

~~ 

It had been roughly two months since that encounter. Idia never expected it to get this bad. They kept their promise, and [Reader] continued to talk to him even if it was after class and in private. He knows they didn’t mean anything bad by it, but he loved the idea of being their little secret. Held occasional yet school-related conversations in public, but the moment the class ended [Reader] and he would talk for hours. Sometimes, they would come over to the Ignihyde dorm to play games with him or indulge in certain content and media. Ortho was very excited, not only was he able to see his brother form a friendship with someone so close instead of online, but he could also see his brother having a slightly more positive outlook on life. However, he remained haunted by the grim reminder that he would be head of the S.T.Y.X organization and wouldn’t be able to enjoy the luxuries he was experiencing now. Despite all that, he was smiling a lot softer and looking forward to the next meeting. So in other words, everything was content and alright. There was no need for him to hijack the cameras to stalk [Reader], but he did it anyway. 

“Well, no matter. What’s done is done. Now I need to make sure they get home safely.” 

Idia softly smiled at the cameras, looking at [Reader] talking to Grim. They had a smile on their face as well, no doubt teasing the poor kitty. 

‘ They’re so pretty. . .hopefully they like my surprise.’ 

[Reader] was walking with the freshman to the Ramshackle dorm. They were going to drop off some stuff before heading out to the hall of mirrors. As they arrived at the entrance, they were greeted by a ghost. 

“Good afternoon, [Reader] and Grim! How were your classes?” 

“ Afternoon! Nothing too busy, but we just got assigned a major project.” 

“Man talk about annoying, Riddle kept reminding us how important this project was for the freshman.” 

Ace complained with Deuce sharing a similar face of dismay, clearly stressed about the project itself. 

“Vil was the same, he said that I could not afford to get a low score and tarnish Pomefiore’s reputation. This must be a pretty serious project.” 

Jack rubbed the back of his head, “Leona hasn’t mentioned anything yet. If all your housewardens are saying something no doubt when I get back to Savannaclaw he might mention it.” 

“If the project must be this serious, then I cannot score anything but the highest marks! The pride of Diasomnia, no. . .the pride of Malleus-Sama rests on my shoulders!” 

“Cool, anyways. . .” 

The rest of the group disregarded what Sebek was spouting about. The ghost chuckled, before leaving to the living room and returning with a package in hand. 

“Someone came by to drop this off. We don’t know what it is or from whom. There was no name on the package.” 

“Oh, for us?” 

“Seems like it.” 

Curiosity spread among them as they were all devising in their heads what it could be. 

“You don’t think it’s a. . .no it couldn’t be!” 

“But it might be. . .” 

“It might be a what?” 

Grim turned to Ace and Epel who shared mischievous smiles, “Oh you know. . .” 

“Pay them no mind, Grim. They’re just trying to scare you.” 

Deuce waved the two off and reassured Grim that it was all right. [Reader] examined the box, shaking it a little. It felt heavy, but there was no sound with the shake. It might either take up the whole box or it might be very secure. They walked inside their dorm with the others following suit. They sat on the couch and proceeded to open the package. Ripping open the box, they turned to see that it was a new phone. 

“A phone. . .?” 

“ WOAH! NOT JUST A NEW PHONE, IT’S THE LATEST MODEL!” 

Everyone exclaimed, eyes wide as saucers. 

“It is. . .?” 

“Hm, you don’t suppose Crowley got it for us do you?” 

Grim turned to look at [Reader] who scoffed at the idea, 

“Hell no, since when has that man cared for us?” 

“Fair enough, but who do you think it was from?” 

“ Not sure. .  .” 

“ Well whoever it was, they must be loaded!” 

Ace pointed out, [Reader] looking up at him. 

“Surely it can’t be that much...  could it?” 

“It’s over 200,000 Thaumarks!” 

“THAT MUCH!?” 

Grim and [Reader] turned to each other in shock. There was no way Crowley would cough up that much money for them, surely this was a mistake. 

“ Do you think they maybe got the wrong address?” 

“Nope! The postman that delivered it said the package was addressed to a [Reader].” 

“So who could be this generous patronage?” 

“Who knows, but whoever it is. You better take care of that as your life depended on it!” 

“ Got it, maybe I can ask Idia how to set it up. Surely it can’t be too different than the models back in my world, but if it is that much I can’t risk it. Alright, let us go now.” 

“ Do you guys want to go to Monstro Lounge to eat and talk about the project?” 

Sharing nods, everyone set off to Monstro Lounge. Idia was observing through the cameras, looking to see everyone entering the Octavinelle dorm. The moment he saw [Reader] enter, he stood up and made plans to leave his dorm. He closed off all the cameras and locked his room to be safe. He turned to the door, preparing to enact his plan. He left the Ignihyde dorm, turning to the path to the Ramshackle dorm. He walked at a brisk pace. It was the perfect time, no one was near or around to see him. Upon arriving at the dorm, he turned to peek inside the windows. Luckily, the ghosts that were occupying the house didn’t seem to be near. He pulled out a key and swiftly unlocked the door. He remembered one time when he swiped their keys and made a copy of them. Casually returning them to [Reader]. He climbed up the stairs and entered their room. Looking around, he could see a very plain room. Nothing too out of the ordinary but he didn’t mind, he knew that [Reader] was hardly getting any funds from Crowley. That was why he gave them the phone, something to be able to reach them faster. Though the room was plain, there was something that did manage to catch his eye. [Reader’s] used clothing hamper. His breath hitched, slowly and carefully making his way to it. Fear that the slight movement could alert someone, even though he was alone(or was he?). Once he made it across, he peered inside. Just normal clothing, sleeping garments, and so forth. The one thing that did make him turn red, was the sight of [Reader’s] used undergarments. 

His throat was dry as he debated reaching in and taking. What would they think of him? Would [Reader] look at him in disgust? Here he was, a pervert thinking about taking the used underwear of the one he loved. Who knows what he was going to do with them? Idia shook his head, reaching in swiftly and swiping the used underwear. He shakily raised them to his face, placing the crotch area close to his nose. He inhaled deeply, [Reader’s] scent quickly invading his mind. His pants began to feel tight and his dick was hard. He was lost in a trance until he heard a voice come from the living room. 

“I wonder who could have gifted the phone to [Reader]. Do you think they have a secret admirer?” 

Idia’s eyes widened as his body temperature rose. He was horrified, beyond terrified. Tears began to well, he was going to be caught! Idia quietly scrambled to the hallway but skillfully remained undetected as he peered over the stair railway. All the ghosts were in the living room, but they weren’t near the front door. If he played his cards right, he could make it out of the dorm without bringing too much attention to himself. Idia began to walk down the stairs, luckily the ghosts were too into their conversation to hear the creaky stairs. Idia shoved the used garment into the pocket of his jacket. 

“ If they had a secret admirer, do you think it might be that fae boy who sometimes comes here at night?” 

‘The WHAT!?’ Idia internally screamed. Fae. . did he mean Sebek? Sebek knows better than to appear at night, so was it the devilish third-year Lilia Vanrogue? Sure he was an eccentric one, but even he would have morals. Idia was close to the front of the door.  Idia was so into his thoughts, that he failed to notice the ghost that was standing near the gate. The ghost turned around, with a surprised look asked, 

“Are you here for [Reader]?” 

Idia let out a squeak, holding both his arms in a defensive stance. The ghost noticed this and quickly assured him that he did not mean any harm or to spook him. 

“Didn’t mean to scare you, but [Reader] isn’t here right now. They’re at the Monstro Lounge working on a project with some peers.” 

“O-oh. . .I see. . .” 

Idia knew they weren’t here, but couldn’t raise any suspicion. The other ghosts soon came to the front door, staring at Idia. 

“Oh, what’s this? Are you a friend of [Reader]?” 

“I-I u-uh. . .d-did [Reader] get the package?” 

“ The package? Oh! Are you their secret admirer?” 

Way to go Iida, he was digging a deeper hole for himself. 

“A-a friend of mine a-asked me to make sure they got it. . .” 

His gaze was adverted to the side and his fingers were twiddling. 

“They did it! By any chance, can we know the name of your friend? Tell us, do they like [Reader]?” 

“ Y-yeah s-something like that. T-they’re a little shy so. . .well then, that’s good. U-uh, I’m going to leave n-now. . .” 

“ Take care, be safe walking back to your dorm!” 

The ghosts all wished him safe travels. Idia nodded and began to walk slowly, once he was away from the ghost’s sight of vision he scrambled back to his dorm. 

“You don’t think he was. . .?” 

“Maybe, but wait. . . isn’t he the one [Reader] likes?” 

~

Idia managed to make it to his dorm without being spotted. He entered his room and locked the door. Once he caught his breath, he made it to his bed and plopped down. He was tired, hopefully, the ghosts didn’t say anything. He closed his eyes and remained still for a brief moment before he turned, feeling the fabric of his pants rub against his hard-on. 

‘Oh’

His cheeks reddened and his hair changed from a blue to a purple shade, close to pink. He reached into his pocket, taking out the used underwear. His other hand went to his pants, slowly freeing his hard cock. His breath hitched, he placed the used underwear up against his nose and inhaled deeply. His eyes rolled back at [Reader’s] scent and his free hand went to his dick, wrapping around it. Pre was already forming at the tip, he rubbed his cock up and down slowly, starting a soft pace. 

“Fuck. . .” 

His lidded and glossy eyes stared on, he slowly opened his mouth and stuck his tongue out. He gave a long striped lick, tasting whatever remained on the underwear. Whatever little control he had broke, he began to gradually fist his cock as he inhaled and exhaled. He was constantly giving licks as well, his body was moving on his own. He rolled over and entangled his legs with his bedsheets. He let the underwear fall on the pillow and dove nose-first into it. With his right hand, he began to grip the sheets. He rutted into his fist. His mind wandered to [Reader], how would they feel. If they saw him right now, what would they say? Would they call him a disgusting pervert? How dare he get off on your used underwear. How pathetic he is, rutting into his hand thrusting into his bed trying to find the right pace and friction to get off. Fucking pathetic, look at this loser jerking off to the idea of even being able to touch you. 

“Fuckfuckfuckfuckfuckfuck-oh fuck-!” 

He imagined if [Reader] was into it as well. Would they step on his disgusting dick? Would they tease him, call him all kinds of names? Would they make him fuck himself before he even had the chance to fuck them? Idia was thankful for his pillow, other than being able to rest the used underwear so that he could smell and taste as much as he wanted. He was also able to hide his pathetic moans and whines. He was drooling, eyes rolling back and tears welling up. 

“Fuckfuckfuck, I’m gonna-shit I’m gonna come-” 

How their warm insides would feel. How their hole would clamp and clench around his dirty and pathetic cock. Imagine how it would feel to relentlessly fuck them. 

“W-wanna touch them, w-wanna fuck y-you, [R-reader]!? W-wanna c-come i-inside you-ha fuck!?” 

Would they let them come inside? How it would feel, leaving his warm thick sticky cum inside them. When he’d pull out he’d see the thick glob that left their used and abused hole that was stretched out just for him. 

“C-Cumming!??” 

Idia’s eyes rolled back as his back arched, his right hand gripping the sheets and his knuckles turning white, blowing his load into his hands. His cum shoots out to stain his bedsheets. His cum was warmer than average, how would they feel? Would they feel warm and satisfied? Sweat was coating his skin and he struggled to catch his breath. His left hand released his now limp dick and his right let go of the bedsheets. He lifted his body, getting on his knees and he looked at the pillow and [Reader]’s now soiled underwear. 

“I l-love you so much. . .[Reader].” 

~ 

[Reader] kept true to their word and turned to Idia for help setting up their phone. 

“Oh, okay so I do this right?” 

“You’re no better than a noob finally learning how to use a handheld console.” 

[Reader] sent Idia an unamused look, but let out a laugh. Idia smiled, but changed his face the moment [Reader] turned to look up again at him. 

“It’s standard, it’s similar to most models back in my world though some features are completely new. Hey Idia, can I ask you a question? Is this really the latest model and  worth 200,000 thurmarks?” 

“It’s the latest model and now it’s super rare. Those who preordered one when the sale dropped months ago were 100% guaranteed one with a small percentage that they would be sold in stores. They only released a few in-store ones so if you didn’t get one then, it’ll be months before you get one.” 

“Woah, so it’s that special? Ace was telling me all the new stuff it was supposed to have but I just nodded and went with it.” 

“Here.” 

Idia handed [Reader] their new phone back, stuck on the contact screen. The contact read his name, ‘Idia Shroud’, with his phone number saved on it. 

“So now you can reach me. M-maybe play the game now. . .”

“Thank you Idia, I was going to ask you about that too by the way. Do you mind if I lie on your bed?” 

“Hm, no I don’t-WAIT YES I DO!” 

Idia’s scream rang through his room. [Reader]’s eyes widened as they backed away from his bed. 

“S-sorry, my bed is. . .messy.” 

“Oh, I really don’t mind but if you do that’s fine. I can just sit here unless you don’t want me to?” 

“N-no no, there is fine.” 

Idia calmed down, scooting over to [Reader] to explain how to download the game and how to set it up. 

It was like that, consistently for another two months. Idia wasn’t sure what to do, he had planned on confessing but how. Every time he thought it was the right time, someone just had to take [Reader’s] attention or ruin it for him. They could never understand them the way he did. After months of observing [Reader], playing games with them, and sharing deep meaningful conversations, Idia was the only one who could understand them. That’s what he believed, so why was it so hard to be able to confess them? No one was able to understand them to the capacity that Idia could and certainly, no one was worthy of them. Granted Idia himself didn’t feel worthy, but if he was the worm crawling underneath their shoe the other’s were the smears on the concrete. Idia huffed in annoyance, he was typing along to his online friend, Muscle Red. 

Gloomurai: Can I vent to you about something happening IRL

Muscle Red: Of course, what’s wrong? 

Gloomurai: How do you confess to someone you like? 

Muscle Red: Oh, relationship issues? 

Lilia scratched his head, geez. This was an awkward situation, it’s been a while since Lilia courted someone. He wasn’t sure how to proceed with the conversation but he was young once so it couldn’t be too hard.

Gloomurai: Not really considering there is no relationship yet, it’s more like I like someone but can’t bring myself to confess to them. 

Gloomurai: When I want to, something always happens like the universe doesn’t want us to be together. 

Muscle Red: I don’t think that's the case. I think you may need to set up a scenario where you are completely alone to confess, so you don’t have any interruptions.

Lilia winced a little when he read that back, it didn’t sound okay at first. Hopefully, Gloomurai doesn’t look too into it. 

Gloomurai: It’s a little hard, they’re quite social. Almost everyone wants to talk to them. 

Muscle Red: I’m sure if you asked to speak to them about a personal matter, they might set time aside to hear you out. Maybe that is when you confess? 

Gloomurai: I’d probably stutter over my words to get it out, they’re just too cool. . .

Muscle Red: How did you meet them? Is this a close friend or? 

Gloomurai: You could say that. They like the same stuff I like, we became friends with mutual interests. 

Lilia let out a breath of relief. Unlike back then where you either knew the person from growing up together or being interested in them because of one interaction, common interests bonded people. So this should be easy. 

Muscle Red: Hm, so then they probably know you and will feel more comfortable being near a familiar face. When trying to court someone you may want to start with a small gesture of kindness and trying to find time alone to be able to confess to them. That was how most of the time it worked then, but since this is a close friend they might already be able to pick up signs. [MESSAGE UNABLE TO SEND. TRY AGAIN.] 

Muscle Red: You may have to be bold. Do something that they might never expect from you. Try to get them to see you in a different light than just a friend. If you’re able to do that then surely you can win them over, who knows maybe they’ll fall for you just as much. 

Muscle Red: Do something that still falls within their comfort level to show that you still care and know certain things about them. I think once you’re able to show them how you care for them but also make them see you, I think that helps a lot. They already like spending time with you and enjoy common interests, so really, it shouldn’t be too hard. [MESSAFE UNABLE TO SEND. TRY AGAIN.] 

Gloomurai: So try something bold, something that makes them notice my feelings for them? 

Muscle Red: Exactly. 

Gloomurai: Hm, thank you. I think I know what I should do. Thank you for this, really :)). Thank you for helping me defeat the boss too lol. C U!

Muscle Red: see you! 

Gloomurai left the chat. 

Muscle Red left the chat. 

Lilia looked to the bottom right screen on his PC, looking at the symbol representing the internet. 

“My, of all times it seems that the internet went out. Hopefully, they were able to read my messages and understand what I was trying to say. Oh well, they seemed to understand so hopefully it helps. Ah, young love certainly never fails to move my heart. Now, onto the internet.” 

And so, that is where we find ourselves now. Idia was pacing around his room, biting his nails and muttering to himself. 

‘Shitshitshitshitshitshit, what do I do? What do I do, what do I do, what do I do?’ 

[Reader] was sleeping soundly, snuggling into the bed. Clearly, this wasn’t their room and if they were to wake up, surely they would panic. The last thing [Reader] remembered was resting peacefully in their bed with Grim cuddling next to them. 

“I did use a pretty strong spell, hopefully, they wake up soon. . .” 

Idia peered over to see [Reader] they were still unmoving. He nervously made his way to them, getting on his bed and slowly crawling to them. The bed sank with his added weight, but nonetheless, they did not waver. He eyed their body, their features. Their chest was slowly rising with their steady breathing. Idia swallowed hard, his fearful expression didn’t leave his face either while he shakily extended his hand to touch [Reader]. His hand grazed their skin and his cold fingers met their warm skin. Tracing his finger from this shoulder to their forearm, touching their forehead and caressing their cheeks. He stopped breathing, afraid that it would ruin this soft moment for him. His eyes trailed down, to their chest. He removed his fingers from their cheeks and instead began to trail from their collarbone to their chest. With deep breaths and a flushed face, he started going lower. From their chest to their stomach, to their hips, and eventually, their crotch. 

“You’re so pretty. . .wanna see you more. . .” 

Idia lightly rubbed at their crotch, lazily stroking up and down. He didn’t intend to do anything and he certainly didn’t expect to hit any major pleasure zones. Idia continued to touch, not really doing much. He wondered if they were awake, what would they do if they saw him like this? Surely they would scream, be disgusted, and threaten to hurt him. 

‘Be bold’ 

Idia nervously looked over to [Reader]with their eyes still shut. He looked over at their legs, placing his hands in the middle and prying them open. His head peeked up again, no movement. He got on his knees at the foot of his bed, dragging [Reader’s] legs down too. Idia placed his hand on their bottoms, dragging them agonizingly slow. He managed to take them off without stirring them and he left them in just their undergarments. Idia began to drool at the sight but he knew the surprise was waiting underneath the undergarments. Reaching above, he pulled them down swiftly and looked. [Reader’s] sex was exposed and visibly aroused. His cold fingers went to touch their most sensitive bit, lightly tapping it. Trailing their finger up and down, they noticed their hole clenching around nothing. 

“What I would give for you to think of me touching you in your dreams.” 

Idia shakily moved his face to their sex, giving it an experimental lick. Trailing to their hole, licking around the area. He removed himself and began to such on his fingers, once they were coated with his saliva he moved them to their hole. Inserting his middle finger inside. Idia let out a soft squeal when he felt their hole clench around his finger. 

“F-Fuck. . .y-you’re so tight. . .” 

Inserting his finger in and out, creating a soft pace and causing enough lubrication to insert another finger. Idia let out a small chuckle, 

“It’s like you’re greedy hole is devouring me. . .I wonder what you’re dreaming about, [Reader].” 

As Idia continued fingering [Reader], they turned to their sensitive bits and began to lick up and down, pressing light kisses on them. He continued to do this for a bit, lightly teasing them and pumping his fingers inside them. He began to suck and that’s when he noticed it, their body twitched. Thinking it was from pleasure, he continued to tease and explore their body. Their sensitive bits were being toyed with, sucked, licked, pinched, and stroked while he fucked his fingers into them. He didn’t notice the noises they were making as they were stirring, but his heart dropped when he felt his hands wander into his hair. 

“[REA-]!?” 

“D-don’t stop. . .p-please Idia. .m’feels good.” 

He had to be dreaming! There was no way this could be real, but he didn't care. If it was a dream, then what a lovely dream it was. He nodded and returned to abuse their sex. 

“F-fuck, right there-!” 

Idia was overheating, he was eating them out with such intensity. Drool covers their sex and mixes with their juices. His fingers continued their assault, stretching them out in a scissoring motion while also reaching even areas they couldn’t with their fingers. 

“M’ feels g-good, f-fuck g-gonna cum Idia-!” 

[Reader] was coming undone, the feeling of Idia’s long tongue playing with their sex, sucking and kissing along with his fingers was a pleasure overload. When Idia’s fingers reached that soft and spongey spot inside them, curling his fingers to hit, they came. Grabbing his hair and pushing his face against their sex and bucking their hips, riding out their orgasm as they came on his face. 

“C-Coming!” 

Once they came down from their high, they released his hair. [Reader] raised their forearm to cover their eyes as they worked to catch their breath. Idia got up from the floor and got on the bed, crawling to them. 

“[R-reader]. . .I-I-I-?!” 

[Reader] removed their forearm, looking at him with glossy eyes. Idia could only gaze upon them with such love. Their body was covered in sweat, their skin was warm to the touch and their post-orgasmic face was divine. [Reader] propped themselves on their elbows, struggling to sit up on the bed. When they managed to, they turned to look at him with a dazed-out expression. 

“Idia. . .wanna make you feel good too. . .can I?” 

[Reader] asked in a slightly whiny voice that made Idia’s rock-hard cock strain against his bottoms. His breath hitched, 

“E-EH? I-I N-NO Y-YOU DON’T M-MEA-EEP!” 

Idia shrieked when [Reader] pushed him down on his bed, straddling his hips and rubbing their exposed sex on his clothed crotch. [Reader] raised their arms to remove their shirt, turning to remove his bottoms. [Reader] was able to pull down his bottoms and remove his boxer, exposing his dick. Idia’s hair turned into a pinkish hue with the rest of his skin burning up. He was embarrassed that his crush who he went down on, got to see him in a similar position. [Reader’s] hands were warm to the touch and they began stroking and rubbing his cock, jerking him off. Idia threw his head back, moaning uncontrollably and gasping as he felt their fingers play with his tip, rubbing it back and forth. Their free hand began to fondle his balls, creating a feeling of immense pleasure. Tears began to form and Idia looked at [Reader] with a face that was begging for mercy but at the same time, more. 

“O-Of fuck! F-feels so fucking good! H-having my disgusting cock t-touched by you, [Reader]! F-fuck me, please I want it s-so badly!” 

Before Idia could come, [Reader] let go of their dick. They went to their sex, rubbing their hole and inserting their finger, making sure they were stretched well. They leveled themselves to Idia’s cock and began to lower themselves down. Idia closed his eyes at the feeling of their hole clenching down hard on his dick. [Reader] was struggling themselves too, Idia managed to stretch them out pretty well. After a while, [Reader] began to move, slowly creating a slow pace while riding Idia, Their hands went underneath his shirt and to his nipples, playing with them. Their fingers caught them and began to pinch them. 

“Fuck! H-ha…f-fuck, so tight!” 

“Y-you’re so big, Idia. Feels so f-fucking good!” 

Rolling their hips to meet Idia’s small thrusts to reach that deeper part within their insides. Idia’s hands went to grab and hold their hips, keeping them steady. Idia’s left hand went to touch their sex, rubbing and stroking to make them catch their high. Both their bodies were covered in sweat and their moans echoed throughout the room. [Reader’s] movements were getting sloppy, the feeling of their climax was right around the edge. Idia could feel it too, he wasn’t going to last long but he wanted to. He didn't;’t want this moment to end. 

“I-Idia, hm feel’s so good, feel so full! W-wanna c=come. .-ha!” 

“F-Fuck [Reader]! C-Come, please c-come!” 

Relief was granted when Idia thrust one last time, spilling his seed inside them. [Reader] threw their head back and ended up cumming all over Iida. The room smelled of sweat and sex. Idia and [Reader] were both trying to catch their breath, until Idia began to thrust again. 

“W-wait I-idia! I can’t, it’s t-too much! S-still sensitive-!!” 

[Reader] placed their hands on his stomach, steadying themselves and that’s when they saw it. Idia’s glossy eyes, tears staining his face but his face was red. He looked like he was ready to cry again from the overstimulation. 

“P-please, w-want more of you. W-want to feel you-!” 

Idia began to relentlessly thrust upwards, hitting their deepest spots and continuing to play with their sex. It continued for a while until Idia had his fill, pushing [Reader] until they were no longer able to form coherent words just mindless babbles of their pleasure spilling out. Idia finally finished and managed to release inside them. He let [Reader] lie on the bed to rest, but never pulled out of them. They stayed connected even when Idia was no longer hard. [Reader] looked over at Idia who was avoiding their gaze. [Reader] smiled, breathing out before speaking, 

“I love you, Idia.” 

“H-HUH!? N-no, surely you’re just pulling my leg-” 

“Idia, we just fucked. I’m not pulling anything, you think I don’t know that you were stalking me?” 

Idia let out a whine, diving headfirst into their chest to hide his embarrassment. Wrapping his arms around their waist, pulling him closer to them. 

“I know you’ve been stalking me around. I also know you were the one who got me the phone, the ghosts told me you stopped by my house.” 

Idia peeled himself away enough to look up at [Reader] who looked at him with adoring eyes. 

“ You probably hate me, you must think I’m disgusting aren’t I.” 

“I don’t hate you, but I do think you’re pretty disgusting. I don't mind, I like how disgusting you are about me.” 

Idia gazed into their eyes before shying away, continuing to shove his face in their chest. His pink hair was a dead giveaway that he was completely enamored and not okay with that response. 

“ Oh, and I also know you jerked off to my used underwear.” 

A sob left Idia’s lip. 

Bonus: 

Muscle Red: Hello, it's been a while. So, how did it go with the one you wanted to confess to?” 

Gloomurai: Hello. It went well, I went bold as you said. I kidnapped them and I guess they were into that lol. Thank you for your advice. Now, do you want to do that quest? 

Gloomurai: Muscle Red? [MESSAGE COULD NOT BE SENT. USER MUSCLE RED IS NO LONGER AVAILABLE] 

Gloomurai: Muscle Red? :(( [MESSAGE COULD NOT BE SENT. USER MUSCLE RED IS NO LONGER AVAILABLE] 

A/N: I have no words because I lowkey hate the writing because I split it up into several days of work so it’s not only consistent but I think I cannot write smut to save my life as well I used to and well yeah. Happy birthday IRL bestie. 

[brokenmutations]

When there’s a Logan, there’s a You

Logan Howlett [Variants] • She/Her Pronouns • Mutant!Reader [Heightened Senses] • In Wade’s attempts to find the perfect Wolverine for his timeline, he half expected not to run into the many different yous that existed • ANGST/SFW/NSFW • TW: Blood / Nightmares / Scars

“Oh, I gotta find me another Logan” Wade sighs, taking out the glorified fire phone. “An alive one…Don’t get up, guys. I’ll see myself out”

Comic Accurate Short King

“Logan!” Wade shouts in the axe throwing bar, spotting Logan sat at the bar. “I’m gonna need you to come with me.”

“Who’s asking?” Logan glared, hopping off the bar stool and revealing his true height.

“Oh, look at this hairy Lou Retton” Wade giggles behind the mask. “Did you stick the landing, little guy?”

A bit of annoyance grew on Logan’s face as he walked closer to Wade.

“Yes, you did! Comic-accurate short king” Wade leaned down, his voice in more of a mocking way and before he could say more he felt a hand on his shoulder.

Marvel Jesus turned around and holy fuck was this universe’s Y/N was tall as SHIT.

“Who you callin’ short, fucking ketchup bottle?” Y/N growled, gripping his shoulder with a bit of a force that drove a shiver down his spine.

“Okay Godzilla, I think I’ll be on my way out” Wade pulls himself away, taking the phone out and staring at their height dynamics as the door opens behind him. “He climbs you like a tree huh?” He teased only for both of them to get annoyed about to follow him but he quickly went through with it shutting behind.

Cue the fucking montage

Weapon X

As Wade steps through the door he was in shock at how ruined this universe was.

“Everything here is on fire” He thought out loud, entering an alleyway finding a hunched over figure with a cloak covering them. “Hi, have you seen I guess a more apocalyptic looking Hugh Jackman around here?”

The individual lifted their head showing their face to Wade causing him to kneel in front of the person.

“Fucking hell is that you Y/N?!” Wade removed the hood of her cloak revealing the buzzed hair. “Okay Furiosa, you slay in any universe”

The confusion write itself on her face as she didn’t know who this person was but given her state of being, she didn’t have the strength to fight him. But he sure did.

Suddenly, Wade was thrown away from Y/N’s space causing a bit of a comical scream to erupt out of the poor guy. Next thing he knew, his body met the wall which broke a few bones. Especially the car he landed on broke a couple more.

As Wade groans lifting himself onto his elbows, he turned to find a man had replaced where he was.

“I don’t know who you are but maybe you know where—-“

The man straightened up turning around to look Wade with the familiar scowl that matches every Wolverine.

“Well well well, you aren’t a kitty cat like the rest with that lion’s mane of yours” Wade smirks rolling off the car and walking over to get up close and personal. He was about to demand he come with him but then his eyes moved with his head to the metal stump that used to be his left hand. “Do your claws still work with that thing?” He gasps suddenly, straightening up. “Was that the hand you used to jerk o—-“

Before he could finish he went flying to the wall again after Logan punched him with said stump. Logan had enough of this yapping individual he’s never seen before and decided a threat is a threat. So he went after Wade and if he could, he’d turn him into ceviche if other matters didn’t stop him.

Y/N watched this all play out for a while and wanted to break it up but a part of her couldn’t handle the noises she was hearing.

Her wince is what made Logan stop and shove Wade off the car he was fighting him on before quickly approaching her. Logan gently cradles her face with his hand resting his forehead against hers.

“Yeah…okay, I’ll uh…see myself out” Wade groans dragging his body to the door he opened with his phone.

Patch

When Wade opened the door to the next universe he was confused whether he was in a casino in Vegas or a casino in the middle of the jungle because when he looked outside the window it looked like a jungle.

“Can I help you sir?”

The voice caught him off guard as he quickly turned around to lock eyes with this universe’s Y/N. Except his Y/N had cochlear implants. Not every universe is the same people! This Y/N clearly had her mutation manifest a bit too much that her eardrums BOOM! Exploded. Bursted…what’s the medical mumbo-jumbo? Anyway, I only know that cuz that ALMOST happened to my Y/N.

“Sir—-Can I help you?”

“I’m looking for a tall broody man that apparently has a very gremlin sized version of himself in another universe. Hell, you were alllllll leg there” Wade started to doze off thinking about how exactly the short king, yknow then he snapped back into it. “Anyho! You’re not helpful so I’m leaving you in your cute little waiter outfit alone and let myself in”

Before he even got to the door, Y/N blocked his path firmly pressing her hand against his chest.

“Okay princess, I’m not here to fight. I just need to talk to Logan”

The name triggered a thought in her mind unknown to him, but it was obvious that she thought Logan’s position was about to be compromised by this stranger.

“You don’t have a meeting with Patch and if you enter without granted access…I’ll have to take care of you myself” Y/N shoved Wade with a force he would never expect from her.

“Holy shit have you been working out or juicing?” Wade scoffs falling on his ass watching Y/N take out a small canister that with a quick press of a button it formed into a staff. “Marvel H. Christ…you pack a punch. I wonder what you’d do with the Hulk as your opponent”

“I’d leave if I were you”

“Sorry, sweetcheeks. That’s a no can do” Wade groans on his way back up, taking one of his katanas out. “Guess I’ll have to force my way through”

Logan suddenly felt uneasy as he looked at his winning cards, confusing the others at the table but his expression was toward what he heard that they didn’t. He reveals his cards and listened to their disappointment but before he could leave the table…

“Patch” Wade gave him a look which led Logan to gesture for the man on his right to give up his seat for him. “I need to talk to you”

“I don’t know who you are, bub” Logan tapped the table for his cards as the dealer gave Wade his as he was confused at to what they were playing.

“Yeah but I know exactly who you are and you HAVE to tell me how you snagged Y/N. The little lady is crazier than mine.” Wade lifted his cards, leaning into Logan. “What are we playing?” He whispers only for the man to growl at him in his space. “Ok ok. Not Go-Fish…uhm. I fold”

The dealer nodded and went to the next player, Logan kept his composure for the most part but when Wade said his partner’s name…his whole body tensed.

“How do you know Y/N.”

“Well that’s a bigger discussion we should have in private. And probably without her because she’s gonna be pissed when she wakes up” Wade went to reach for his card and Logan had enough which led the man to unsheathe his claws to stab him in the head. The woman on the other side of the mercenary, screamed when blood got on her but business continued as Logan retracted his claws along with pulling Wade away and off the table.

“You look like you could use a drink” the dealer gestured for a waiter to come over and before Logan could stand up to check on one in particular, he felt a hand stop him.

Logan quickly looked up locking eyes with his partner who bore a tired expression along with a bruise forming on her cheek. He could smell the blood on her and knew it was hers given she hide her other arm behind her back to avoid other eyes.

‘You okay?’ He signed to her as Y/N nods before both their attention were drawn to Wade dragging himself along the carpeted floor.

“Never…coming…back here” Wade groans continuing to drag himself away as Y/N scoffs at his form while signing ‘idiot’.

As soon as Wade left, Logan rises to his feet excusing himself from the table and walking out with Y/N back to the small lobby before their casino room. He frowns scanning around the room to see all the damage done to the place alone.

‘He ever comes back, you get me’ Logan scoffs as he signs to her while taking a hold of her arm that Wade managed to knick with his tiny knife.

‘I can handle myself’ She frowns, feeling his fingers gently lift her chin to have her attention on him.

“I don’t care. This operation is risky, I can’t lose you in the process” Logan frowns, kissing her forehead before bringing her into his arms for a brief moment. Her body finally relaxed after that whole interaction.

Old Man Logan

“This is much homier than the last universe…I think I still taste metal…” Wade pondered as he approached the small property in the woods. “Was it his claws or her staff going up where the sun don’t—-Oh hey!” He waves at the old man on the porch.

Said old man didn’t seem to care much of the guy dressed like a ketchup bottle. He kept his attention on himself until he heard the footsteps draw nearer.

“Hello, Hi! Hope you’re the man I’m looking for”

The old man lifted his gaze only for Wade to be taken back a sec.

“Well don’t you need some coconut oil on…that” He gestures to Logan’s older complexion as his words only drew out a low growl from the old man. “So you and my Logan actually aged. Can the little Wolvie still perform? I wanted to ask my Y/N but she’s still grieving”

Logan glared at him which drew out a growl out of the man the closer Wade got.

The growling annoyed more than the merc as the front door opened revealing this universe’s Y/N with a very tired expression on her face. Logan’s growling suddenly stopped as he turned toward the door finding her disappointed expression making his expression soften for a second.

Then a whole 180 turn back to Wade returning the scowl on his face and suddenly the shotgun he was hiding under his blanket fired at the poor guy launching him back from the force alone.

“He’s twitching” Y/N frowns stepping off the porch and checking the body, watching the bullet holes heal. “He can heal like you, babe” she pulls away from the body, only for her back to bump into Logan’s chest as he instantly went to cover her with his body. “He’s not going to hurt me”

Logan shot her a glare which was met with an annoyed look from her. He tensed when he heard Wade groaning, resulting in him gently nudging Y/N back as he took a step back.

“Okayyyy…clearly, I struck a fucking nerve with this one. Like…the others” Wade groans rising to his feet and cracking his back as he did such. “I shall bid y’all farewell…this writer needs to send me to a universe where the wolverine is a cat. Then maybe just maybe I won’t be too hurt” he sighs taking out his phone and opening a door to the next universe.

The poor guy looked around terrified as to where the man dressed in red had disappeared to, all while Y/N pulled away heading back inside.

“You want some peach cobbler?” She asks halfway through the door as Logan perked up quickly following behind her.

The door shut a moment, then Logan opened it back up leaving his shotgun outside before going back in.

Crucified Wolverine

Wade face plants into the sea of red skulls and part of him was afraid but most of him was curious.

“What in the fuck…” He lifts his head finding Logan on a giant yellow X. “Are you okay??” He laughs, struggling to rise to his feet as he stumbles on over to get close to this variant.

All this Logan has done was groan to the feeling of the nails in his wrists and the rain hitting his skin making him overall uncomfortable.

“Yeah uh. Not you…we’re uhm. Going in different directions” Wade turned around opening a door. “Thank god I didn’t find a Y/N skull…”

“Y/N…” Logan sobbed hearing her name which only made Wade anxious and get out of there faster not wanting to know what happened to one of his best friends in this universe.

John Byrne’s Brown and Tan Wolverine

“Oh yes, YES! Classic John Byrne brown and tan” Wade nodded happily watching Logan come into view of the wrecked forest they stood in. “Now you fought the Hulk in this costume…”

Logan readied himself, unsheathing his claws at the exact moment the Hulk roared which led Wade to turn around being face to face with said green monster.

“I’m Marvel Jesus you dull creature and I——“ Wade was suddenly hit by the Hulk into the trunk of a knocked down oak.

Part of him was having enough of these Logan variants that Wade started to whine and an even bigger chunk of him wishes his Y/N was with him.

“Get up!”

It felt like he was seeing an angel when her voice caught his ears. Y/N picked up Wade like it was nothing, carrying him over her shoulders and bringing him away from the fight but the Hulk was acting like a bull chasing them which led to Logan chasing him.

“DITCH THE RED, BUB” Logan shouts, climbing a tree and launching himself onto the Hulk’s back throwing him back.

Y/N suddenly dropped Wade but helped him to his feet. “Listen, Red. You’re not from here and this ain’t your fight”

“I know I know! I was gonna ask if I could borrow your Logan to help save my universe” Wade’s voice was panicked watching Logan and the Hulk fight.

“Look. Avengers are after us for messin’ with the multiverse already. You need to find a Logan that doesn’t have anything he could lose in his universe.” Y/N frowns. “It’s messed up but that’s how it’s gonna have to be.”

“Wait. How the fuck do you know so much about the multiverse?”

“When your Red vanishes one day and it became this unknown trend…you get curious and start talking to a few sorcerers” Y/N states, getting a chill down her back as she quickly grabs Wade pulling them both out of the way of the tree thrown their way.

“Y/N FOR FUCKS SAKE” Logan shouts, mainly over his anxiety for their safety with a hint of anger.

Y/N sighs grabbing Wade’s hand and pulling him out of their line of sight. She quickly took the phone out of his hand and dialed in two sequences.

“These two have lone Wolverines. One definitely has some baggage from a different studio but the other I know nothing about”

“Ok ok…I’ll take it” Wade took the phone, opening the first one up. Before she stepped completely away, he called out to her catching her attention. “Uhm. I…”

“You will save your universe, Wilson.” Y/N gave a small nod with a smile before turning around and running toward the fight.

The Cavillrine

The revving of the motorcycle caught his attention instantly.

“Oh now we’re talking” Wade started to approach this universe’s Wolverine. “That’s the whole goddamn package right there”

As he got closer, he grew more confused and remembered when the other Y/N brought up “studio” as if it meant something important…

“Yknow…from behind you look a little like Henry—-“ The second Logan turned around, Wade gasped. “Oh my FUCK…the Cavillrine the legends are true”

Logan gave him a confused expression as he puffed out some cigar smoke, bringing his attention toward his bike once more.

“And may I say sir on the behalf of all humanity….this just feels RIGHT” Wade emphasized on the last word with a bunch of giddiness in his voice watching Logan turn to him. “We will treat you so much better than those shit fucks down the street!”

“You were just leaving” Logan scoffs, removing the cigar from his mouth and tossing it.

“No sir! I wonder if your Y/N looks a little like Amy Adams” Wade thought for a moment, “No no no sir, not while the fate of my universe is at—-“

Poor guy.

Wade flew through the next time door from the force of Logan’s punch.

The Worse Wolverine

After the whole spiel, Logan came face to face with Wade’s gun as he could sense he had enough of disappointment. But he wasn’t going to go that easily.

“Watch this” Logan laughs reaching for the bottle and straightening up. “Alright…Woah—-“ he grabbed onto the gun to stabilize himself. “Easy…” he laughs softly, starting to drink the bottle straight up.

“Good god” Wade watches in pure shock. “Thirsty little honey badger aren’t yea?” He continues to watch him down the bottle which triggered a thought in his mind. “How did Y/N deal with your little drinking problem huh?”

Logan finished the bottle with a bit of a shocked expression hearing that name. “Y/N?” He questions him, only to suddenly collapse from the amount in his system.

Wade sighs holstering his gun and stepping over his unconscious body. “You will have to do”

You’ve all seen the movie do I really have to rewrite the whole thing? Let’s just get to the part where you show up

Althea scoffed after her wishing she was deaf comment as she listens to the commotion Wade and Logan were causing in the streets.

“Y/N!” She shouted knowing her apartment door is closed, and Y/N’s. But with her mutation, she heard her.

Y/N instantly lets herself in running over to the window and climbing out onto the fire escape where Al was. She instantly took note of the commotion happening.

“What is it?!”

“A fuckton of Wades”

“God fucking damn it. They better not be staying. Those motherfuckers won’t pay their rent!” Al scoffs again, going back into her apartment to look for some much need cocaine in her opinion. All while Y/N continued to watch the fight happening before re-entering herself and quickly grabbing something.

While the two were fighting in the bus, Y/N stepped out of the apartment complex finding a few Deadpool stragglers resulting in her running toward a presumed dead one and grabbing his handguns to take out the few giving hopefully her Wade less trouble. She flinched to the sound of broken glass as she ran over to the end of the bus sighing with relief.

“Wade, this is what you’ve been doing?! Fucking up the multiverse?!”

“I DIDNT DO SHIT! BLAME THE TVA” Wade shouts in her direction as he couldn’t help but feel the growing tension beside him that was Logan staring into Y/N’s soul from the looks of it. “Listen sweet cheeks. We gotta go save our universe and I need peanut’s help. So while he continues to stare at you like he’s seen a ghost Imma need you to have our backs in case—-“ he heard the sounds of bones cracking back into place as Y/N instantly knew where he was going.

“Go!” She shouted at them and while they ran to take care of the time ripper, she half expected to take on a whole clusterfuck of Deadpools. But when she heard the stand down! from Peter. She had only an ounce of hope.

Once the threat of it all was over, Y/N found herself back in her apartment leaned up against the door hugging a flannel close to her chest as she didn’t feel it in the moment. But seeing Logan, not her Logan, again was bringing back all kinds of feelings. She was hugging her Logan’s shirt as she had quite a few along with a box of Polaroids that their daughter took for the most part.

A knock on the door pulled her out of this trance she put herself in as she rises to her feet.

As she opened the door, her heart that was once beating fast because of her anxiety…relaxed when she locked eyes with Laura. Y/N instantly dropped the flannel and broke down into tears bringing her into her arms sobbing with her.

“Mom…” Laura whispers, sobbing and gripping onto the back of her shirt. Y/N held onto her for dear life, looking over her shoulder to find a smiling Wade and equally happy Logan beside him.

When they locked eyes, Y/N couldn’t help the smile on her face even with all the tears before hiding her face while hugging Laura. Logan felt his heart beating out of his chest.

You’ll find me again, I promise His Y/N’s words rang in his head as he looked at this universe’s Y/N.

A Logan will always find a Y/N

[alisonwritesimagines]

Insecure ~Bruce Wayne Imagine~

Summary: During a charity event, you see Bruce talk to Selina Kyle which makes you feel insecure.

Author’s Note: I had to leave work early today which I'm upset about.

BatFamily Masterlist

Reader’s Pronouns: She/Her

Warnings: feeling insecure, mentions of infidelity

Do not repost this anywhere!

All the galas and charity events were the same but you knew you had to make an appearance every once in a while to help maintain Bruce’s identity a secret. And it helps when you bring one or a few of your children along to also maintain the identity a secret.

“I’m gonna go get us a couple drinks,” Bruce tells you.

“Don’t take too long,” you tell him.

“Trust me. I won’t. I rather be with you instead of talking about business with other people,” Bruce said before giving you a quick kiss.

You engaged in some small talk with others until you noticed something across the room.

Your smile had turned into a frown as you watched Selina flirt with your husband. But it wasn’t her that you were upset about. It was the fact your husband didn’t do anything to stop it. He stood there as he let her take the champagne glass from his hand that was meant to be yours, and drink it.

“You okay mom?” Cassandra asked you. You looked at her with a small smile.

“Yes. Just tired. I think I’m gonna go home early,” you tell her.

“Are you sure?” Cassandra asked. Her eyes looked over to see Selina with Bruce. “Mom, you know he loves you more than anything and anyone.”

“I know. But after what happened before, it’s just a little triggering,” you explain before walking towards the exit.

“Mom?”

“Stay with Bruce. I’m gonna go,” you tell her. Cassandra quickly pushed through the crowd to get to Bruce.

“Bruce! Mom is leaving,” Cassandra quickly told Bruce as she got close enough to him. Bruce stopped his conversation with Selina and looked at Cassandra with a confused look.

“Where is she?” Bruce asked quickly as he looked around for you.

“Outside,” Cassandra told him. Bruce rushed out quickly to find you.

He stopped as he watched you get into the car before it drove off.

Bruce and Cassandra quickly went home the moment you left. Bruce found you lying in bed in your dress, sobbing from what you saw.

“Y/n? What happened?” Bruce asked as he walked over towards you. He sat on the bed and placed a hand on your shoulder.

“It’s nothing. Why are you home early?”

“I could ask you the same thing,” Bruce said. You sat up from the bed and wiped some of your tears away. Bruce pulled you onto his lap so he could hold you.

“Bruce, I want you to be honest with me,” you tell him.

“Of course.”

“Do you still love Selina?” You asked him.

“No. How could you say that?” Bruce asked you without any hesitation.

“I saw you two tonight,” you explained to him. Bruce’s face softened.

“Oh. I apologize if I made it look like I was still into her. The truth is, I don’t love her. Not anymore. I have you in my life and I never want to lose you,” Bruce said as he gave you a kiss.

“Bruce, I’m sorry if this makes me look insecure-“

“No. It doesn’t. It is my fault that you even feel insecure. Your my wife and I should be treating you the proper way I should be treating you,” Bruce tells you before kissing you once again. “I love you.”

“I love you too, Bruce.”

“Why don’t you and I renew our vows together? I think it’s a little overdue don’t you think?” Bruce asked you.

“I’d like that,” you smile and nodded.

——

“Looking good, Bruce,” Dick told him as he patted his back.

“How’s your mom doing?” Bruce asked him.

“She looks great too. The girls are helping her finish getting ready,” Dick tells him.

“Ready whenever you guys are,” Jason told the two as he and Tim walked in.

“The guests are all seated,” Tim mentioned.

“Is your mother ready?” Bruce asked.

“She’s ready!” Cassandra told him as she walked inside.

“Okay. Let’s do this,” Bruce tells the kids.

Bruce waited under the gazebo where you both agreed to meet before you both headed in to renew your vows. He felt a tap on his shoulder making him turn to look over at you.

“You’re as beautiful as the day I met you,” Bruce tells you in awe.

You stood in a gorgeous midi, lace, white dress with white matching heels. Bruce wrapped his arms around your waist. He leaned down a little but you stopped him before he could kiss you.

“The girls worked hard on this makeup. They’re gonna be upset with you ruining it,” you tell him.

“Okay fine.”

“Mom! Bruce! Let’s get a couple pictures of you two and then let’s go in!” Tim says.

After the pictures you both headed over to the dining hall where everyone who was close to the two of you were seated at the tables.

Bruce took a microphone and grabbed everyone’s attention.

“I’d like to first thank everyone for being here with us. Y/n and I really appreciate everyone here and we’re glad you are all able to make it to our vow renewal ceremony. I want to say that this woman here, is one of the strongest women I have ever met. She has dealt with me for so long and I am truly grateful for her love and support. I don’t deserve a woman like her and I’m so thankful and blessed to have her in my life. And I hope to have her for as long as we both shall live,” Bruce says. You smile up at him as he leaned down to give you a quick kiss.

“So I want to say, Y/n Wayne, I vow to continue to love you until time disappears. I vow to be truthful to you and to be honest with you no matter what. Even if the kids beg me to hide their shenanigans from you,” you laughed a little at that. The kids laughed as well before hiding their faces from their embarrassment. “And I vow to always be on your side. No matter what. I will forever chose you.”

Your eyes teared a little as you stood up to kissed Bruce.

“And I vow to continue to love you forever. I vow to continue to be there for you and never give up on you, the kids, or us. And lastly, I vow to continue to be the best wife you can have,” you tell him.

Bruce smiled at you and kissed you once more.

The party was similar to your reception. Everyone danced and partied but now that you had kids (with two who were of drinking age) the party was more memorable.

“We’ll take care of everyone. You two go sneak off to your honeymoon redo,” Diana tells you two as she and Clark walked you and Bruce out.

Bruce had talked to the Justice League and his family about taking you out to Europe for some alone time together after the party. Now that it had began to die down, it was a perfect time for you two to go.

“Are you sure?” You asked.

“We have Alfred here as well for anything. You two enjoy yourselves,” Diana tells you.

“We’ll see you two back soon,” you say before giving them a hug each.

“Have fun!” Clark smiled as Bruce carried you to the car.

“You ready for some alone time, Mrs. Wayne?” Bruce asked you as you two got into the car.

“You bet I am Mr. Wayne,” you giggled before pulling Bruce into a kiss

[tenelkadjowrites]

Video Girl - Seonghwa x Reader (NSFW)

📼 Summary: On the cusp of 1998, your quiet life working at a department store is upended when an attractive new coworker named Seonghwa awakens your desire for sexual exploration.

📼 Word count: 22k

📼 Genre and warnings: smut one shot. coworkers to lovers. fem pronouns for reader. use of a camera during sex. oral sex. unprotected sex. creampie.

📼 fic playlist here.

this fic is not meant to represent seonghwa in any way, shape or form.

Monday, October 6th, 1997

“What happened to the stack of CDs I put right there?”

               “Right where?”

               “Right there,” You gesture to the empty space that once housed a cluster of CDs that needed to be put on the shelf.

               Your coworker, San, pops his head up from where he had been busy sorting through one of the boxes of new inventory. His brows furrow while staring at the spot as if he could magically make the CDs appear.

               “What was it?”

               “The new Janet Jackson album.”

               “The new…oh shit, wait, I might’ve knocked it into this other box,” He ducks back down out of your view and you hear him wildly rummaging around.

               With a sigh, you slump against the shelf and stare out at the store which closed half an hour ago. Now, you’re stuck restocking new releases in the CD and VHS section for another hour before your shift ends. At least there are no customers, you think gratefully.

               “What’s it called?” San asks, still trying to find what he accidentally misplaced.

               “The Velvet Rope, I think,” You reply, wishing your feet didn’t hurt so much.

               The stack of CDs really isn’t that important but you just needed an excuse to take a break. It’s been a long day, working a double to cover for someone else, and you were sick of being here about three hours ago. The vest you have to wear while clocked in has long been discarded, tossed onto the counter as soon as the last customer finally got the hell out.

               “Wait, I found it,” San says with the same enthusiasm of someone completing a lifelong goal. He circles around the aisle, holding the pile of CDs, “Where should I put them?”

               “I’m just stacking them next to Mariah Carey,” You reply while taking them out of his hands and turning back to the shelf, “I don’t care.”

               “Fine by me.”

               You’ve worked with San for two years now and know him as well as one can know another coworker. He rarely missed a shift, probably because he enjoyed flirting with the women who wandered into the electronics section too much. There were two things San liked to do outside of work: work out and go clubbing with his best friend, Wooyoung. He was good looking to the point that even the ugly work mandated vest couldn’t take away from his jawline sculpted out of marble.

               “Thanks for helping me out,” San says.

               “It’s cool, dude. I really did not feel like working in my department tonight.”

               “You’re sick of organizing all the tube tops? Don’t see any of them you want for yourself?” He jokes, knowing how bored you are of working in the women’s clothing department.

               You make a face. “Ugh, as if.”

               San leans against the shelf, crossing his arms. “Did you hear about the new guy they hired for the men’s department?”

               “No,” You reply, uninterested.

               “I heard he’s good looking,” A thought strikes him and in an alarmed tone, he goes, “You don’t think he’s better looking than me, do you?”

               You shove the last CD onto the shelf although it teeters close to the edge. You stare at it, willing that it doesn’t fall and when the case stays in place, you finally turn your attention to San. “Why, worried you’re going to no longer be the Resident Hottie?”

               “Pfft, no. But…you’ll let me know, won’t you?”

               You lean down and pick up one of the boxes of CDs, balancing it on your knee until you get a better hold on it. “Why are you buggin about a new hire?”

               “I’m not buggin about him,” San protests quickly.

               “Yes, you totally are. I’m sure he’s nothing special. Don’t worry about it,” You turn away from San, getting ready to head down another aisle to finish putting the CDs away, “I can’t even remember the last time we hired someone who impacted me outside of asking and then promptly forgetting their name.”

               San looks mollified, taking comfort in the fact that everyone knows he is the hottest guy working in the store. You plop the box down, sorting through it to see what to put away first.

               The routine is comforting in that sort of mind numbing manner, the same pace of your life unchanging with no disruptions on the horizon. Tomorrow, you’d wake up and be here again to sort out ugly women’s clothing and clean up the fitting rooms after old ladies leave piles everywhere.

               That’s how it always goes, how it will continue to go.

Tuesday, October 7th, 1997

               “I don’t want this one,” A customer declares, thrusting a crushed velvet mini dress into your arms, “Or this.” A denim dress is tossed as the customer saunters off back into the aisles of clothing racks.

               You stand there, momentarily bunching the fabric in your hands with irritation before collecting your features into a pleasant expression. You go back to organizing the clothing from the fitting room racks to put them away. There are two hours left in your shift and your feet hurt yet again.

               “Sorry, I don’t mean to interrupt,” A voice cuts cleanly through the music being piped into the building. It is deep, almost melodious and you look over your shoulder curiously, expecting to see a lost looking man trying to find something to buy for his wife or girlfriend.

               There is, in fact, a lost looking man standing there but his blue vest indicates he’s a coworker. The slightly confused expression combined with the outfit leads you to believe this is the man San had been talking about the other night.

               “I just started working here yesterday and the person who was supposed to be training me called out so I’m running the men’s department alone. I just had some questions and was hoping you could help me.”

               The man is tall and slender with black hair carefully combed. The ugly blue vest does nothing to take away from his uniquely pretty face – beautiful brown eyes with a strong nose, perfectly straight white teeth and full lips. In his hands is a small collection of clothing, long fingers splayed out across to stop it from tumbling onto the floor. His shoes look brand new, the shine making it obvious. A belt loops around his small waist, wearing simple dress slacks.

               You’re so used to going through the motions at work, typically zoned out that only something absolutely wild could shatter you from that usual feeling. Seeing someone so pretty against the backdrop of the woman’s department brings you up short.

               “Uhhhh,” You go before managing to collect yourself swiftly, replying, “Yeah, I can help you,” Your eyes fall onto his nametag, and you tentatively say his name aloud for the first time, “Seonghwa.”

               He smiles, a sort of strange smile in which he looks vastly uncomfortable, saying your own name after reading it from your tag. You trail after him, cutting through the organized racks of the women’s department into the general shitshow of the men’s.

               For some reason, it was impossible to keep a full team in the men’s section. They always quit or just stopped showing up. Over the two years you worked here, you normally didn’t speak to anyone in the men’s department too much since they never seemed to last long. That meant the department always looked like a group of wild school children tore through it regularly and today is no exception.

               Seonghwa takes you to a large box dumped unceremoniously onto the counter near the men’s fitting rooms. “I was told to process these returns but I don’t…actually know how to do that,” He admits bashfully.

               “Oh, it’s not difficult. I can show you.”

               He looks relieved, thanking you. As you begin to show Seonghwa the process, you sneak a glance at his face out of the corner of your eye. His eyelashes are long, his lips prettily plump and his skin seemingly perfect. What planet did this dude come from? You wonder, unsure how someone like him stumbled into working at a store like this.

               “You know how to fold the clothes the right way?” You ask at one point.

               “Yeah, I’ve worked retail before in my last town.”

               “Oh, you moved here?”

               Seonghwa looks up as you hand him a particularly ugly dress shirt made from a shiny fabric. In the horrendous fluorescent lights which make almost everyone look garish, he seems to be immune.

               “Yeah, just a couple weeks ago. Not far away, just a few towns over.” He quickly changes the subject off himself, “Have you worked here long?”

               “Around two years.”

               “Do you like it?”

               “It’s retail,” You reply dryly, “I think it is the same everywhere.”

               The corners of his lips turn up for a second. “Yeah, I guess you’re right.”

               Seonghwa turns his attention back to the pile of clothes, folding them swiftly. You watch the way his long fingers smooth out the fabric before expertly folding it. Every movement of his seems to be precise and completely under control, a far cry from yourself.

               “Are you settling in okay then?” You ask, trying to wiggle more information out of this professional handsome guy who for some reason is working at this shitty store instead of modeling overseas somewhere.

               He carefully folds another shirt while replying, “Yeah, I’m doing alright. Have you always lived here?” Another deflection. It’s growing obvious Seonghwa doesn’t want to talk about himself.

               “Yeah, I have. It’s really nothing special though. Pretty generic place.” You study his face while asking the next question, “Why did you pick here?”

               Without missing a beat, he goes, “It was convenient. What do you like the most about living here?”

               You find his answer curious but decide asking Seonghwa questions is pointless because he only swiftly tries to put the conversation back on you.

               Stumped by his question, mostly because nothing really comes to mind, you finally settle on, “The weather is alright.”

               He tilts his face in your direction at your answer, one eyebrow slightly raised. “That’s it?”

               You shrug, “Yeah, I guess.”

               His gaze is heavy on you, a beat too long before turning his attention back to folding the clothes. You swallow hard, wondering why you feel so unnerved. As beautiful as Seonghwa is, he has the sort of intense presence that knocks you a little off balance, almost as if he can see some part of yourself that most people cannot.

               “Alright, finished.” His voice brings you back to the moment as he picks up the clothing, “Do I just put them back now?”

               “Yup, that’s it. Do you want me to help you?”

               “No, I got it. I should start learning where everything goes,” He turns to go and then stops, looking over his shoulder, “Thanks for your help. I appreciate it.”

               “It’s no biggie. You can pop over again if you have any other questions.”

               He smiles again, exposing the most perfect teeth you’ve ever seen. “Alright, thanks. Talk to you later.”

               You give him a small wave, turning around to head back to your section, wondering why you feel so thrown off balance over someone you’ve known for ten minutes.

*

               “So, how is he?”

               “Who?”

               “Don’t play coy with me,” San says, leaning closer to you, “The new guy.”

               You’re in the break room, poking at the unappealing lunch you brought. The break room is covered in tacky motivational posters, a bulletin board filled with random flyers about things like worker safety, requesting time off and a garage sale ad. A small TV in the corner shows the local news. The image, as usual, is extra grainy due to the bad signal off the cheap antenna. There is no break from the harsh fluorescents even in this room.

               “You saw him, didn’t you?” He presses.

               You relent and reply with a casual, “Yeah, I saw him.”

               “And? What’s he like? Is he hotter than me?”

               Another noncommittal shrug. “He’s…different. He’s friendly, don’t get me wrong, but he seems distant. I guess he moved here from a town nearby. That’s all I know about him.” San is staring at you with a serious expression on his face. You shift uncomfortably in the hard chair, finally glaring at him. “What?”

               He points at you sternly. “You do think he’s fine.”

               “What?” You bluster. “Where the hell did you get that idea?”

               San gestures wildly. “It’s written all over your face! We talk about every new hire in detail and now suddenly, you give me a couple of sentences. What spell did he cast on you?”

               “No spell,” You say crossly, irritated at somehow being too obvious when believing you played it cool, “You’re caring too much about my opinion.”

               He slumps back in his chair, crossing his arms, pouting. With a sigh, you push your meal away and turn to face him.

               “Come on, dude. You’re giving a new hire way too much power. Everyone knows you’re all that and a bag of chips. You think the confused old ladies who still don’t understand what a cordless phone is are not gonna be charmed by you? That they’re suddenly going to head to the men’s department instead?”

               “They tip me, you know,” San says defensively, “That’s why it’s important to me. They give me a couple of bucks when I finish explaining what a portable CD player is compared to their 8 track.”

               You skirt around the fact it is against company police to take cash tips from customers, opting to continue reassuring him instead.  “Don’t give someone else so much power. I mean, look at the size of your arms. No one in the store can compare with that.”

               “That’s true,” He says begrudgingly, “Fine. And I’ll give the new guy a shot only cuz you think he’s fly.”

               “I don’t – will you stop –” You sputter.

               San stands up, snatching his work vest off the table and slipping it back on. “Alright, I’m going. Talk to you later.”

               You say bye, now alone in the break room. Normally, you relish the quiet moments here without a coworker talking your ear off. But you’re longing for a pointless discussion, some sort of distraction from the fact that you’ve spent ten minutes around Seonghwa and are seemingly attracted to him.

               You’ve fallen into such a routine between work, occasionally going out on the weekends, and watching TV that suddenly finding someone hot is like an electric bolt to your chest. Things have been quiet for so long, in both your mind and life, that the last thing you want to deal with is forming an attraction to a coworker.

               Luckily, Seonghwa seems intent to keep mostly to himself. The emotional distance should help, you think, should make it easier not to get swept up in some guy.

Wednesday, October 8th, 1997

               Once it hits 4pm, all you care about is punching out and getting home. You’re so wrapped up in this that when you turn around to dart out of the back room, you collide immediately into Seonghwa.

               It’s like striking a wall. Even though he’s slender, his body is firm, resulting in you ungracefully flailing for a moment. His hands go to your upper arms to steady you, allowing yourself to recover from toppling back against the wall.

               “Sorry, I wasn’t paying attention.” You’re embarrassed by being so spaced out.

               Seonghwa, who you have successfully avoided all day, doesn’t seem to be impacted by the collision. He’s still in his work vest but today he’s wearing a long sleeve black shirt. His hands rest on your upper arms and your eyes drop to his fingers, taking note of how they look against the fabric of your clothing.

               He clears his throat gently, a mild noise of embarrassment, before dropping his hands back to his sides. “No, I should have let you know I was behind you. My shift is done too so I was just punching out.”

               You shuffle to the side, letting Seonghwa finish up. Your heart is beating quickly in that annoying way you’ve been trying to avoid since your last relationship. You should just say goodbye now and head out. But your feet refuse to obey and you find yourself lingering to walk out with Seonghwa.

               After shaking out of his work vest and tossing it unceremoniously into his locker, he leans against it, watching as you fumble with your own lock.

               “How was your day?”

               “Uh, it was alright. What about you? You settling in okay with everything?” You successfully open your locker, shoving your own work vest in there and grabbing your bag.

               Turning to meet Seonghwa’s gaze, your eyes unintentionally flick down to his torso. His long sleeve shirt fits him a little too well, is a little too snug, and you’re now acutely aware of his small waist on top of the fact he’s definitely in shape.

               “Yeah, it’s going well. A bit disorganized but it’s fine.”

               The two of you are leaving the backroom together, cutting through the electronics section. San is milling around in front of a display of Tamagotchis which is already half empty. He glances up and notices you, waving.

               “Hey,” He goes, “Oh, you’re the new guy, right?”

               You’re secretly hoping San doesn’t embarrass you. Even though you denied thinking Seonghwa is attractive yesterday, you know that San doesn’t believe you for a second.

               Seonghwa introduces himself and then glances at the display. “These things go fast, don’t they?”

               “Tell me about it. I end up having to restock the display every shift,” San replies disgruntled, “I don’t get it. An electronic pet?”

               “I had a Tamagotchi,” Seonghwa muses, “It kept beeping while I was sleeping so I shoved it in a drawer and forgot about it.”

               “What happened to it?” San asks.

               “It died,” He replies seriously, “I felt pretty guilty.”

               “I’m sorry to hear that,” San says just as grimly.

               You glance between the two men and their bonding moment over a dead Tamagotchi before clasping your hands together. “Okay, well, this has been truly touching but I don’t wanna miss my bus. See you tomorrow, San.”

               As you turn to leave, you hear Seonghwa mumble a quick goodbye before catching up with you. “You take the bus to work?”

               “Yeah, no car.”

               “I can drop you off at your place if you’d like.”

               You glance at him in surprise. “You don’t even know if I’m completely out of your way or not. We could live on opposite sides of one another. On top of that, how familiar are you with the town? You got a map in your car or something to help you get home afterwards?”

               Seonghwa looks perplexed. “I guess I didn’t think of that.”

               The doors glide open as you step out into the late afternoon air. The temperature has dropped since this morning, a chilly bite that cuts through your t-shirt. Seonghwa had the right idea with the long sleeve, you think. Feeling flustered by his invitation to drive you home, you stop walking and turn to face him.

               “Sorry, I didn’t mean to come across so harsh. I just wouldn’t want you going out of your way on my account.”

               “I get that,” He replies, a wind kicking up and blowing some of his hair into his eyes which he impatiently brushes back, “But I really don’t mind. I need to learn where everything is anyway.”

               Chewing on your bottom lip, you fight the urge just to agree. Logically, you should just take the bus home. If you’re trying to steadfastly ignore the fact that Seonghwa is attractive then obviously being in his car will not help things. But on the other hand, being alone with him also sounds too good.

               “Alright, fine. But if you get lost, I warned you.”

               He smiles and you can feel it in your chest. Following him to his car, which looks as though it has seen better days, you get into the passenger seat and toss your bag on the floor, looking around. A pair of small dice swing off the rearview mirror, the only decoration in the car. There is nothing else to learn about Seonghwa in here – the car is neat, clean and smells nice.

               He stretches out his long legs in his seat, starting the car. You are trying very hard not to stare at him, not notice how smooth his skin is nor how his muscles pull against his long sleeve shirt.

               You open your mouth to tell him your address when suddenly Wannabe by the Spice Girls begins to blare out of his car speakers. Startled into silence, you can only watch as Seonghwa looks mortified, quickly slamming his hand down onto the eject button which spits the CD out of the player in his car dashboard.

               He grabs the CD swiftly while going, “Uh, I didn’t know – I forgot – ‘’

               “Seonghwa, it’s fine,” You reassure him, “It would be stranger at this point if you didn’t own that CD.”

               He turns his body to grab something off the back seat, plopping the CD holder into his lap. Quickly, he opens it, flips to a random page with a spot available and hastily shoves the disc inside before closing the big binder of albums. Seonghwa seems to collect himself after a second or two, returning the binder to the backseat and quietly clearing his throat while turning on the radio. Sunday Morning by No Doubt quietly fills the car.

               “Alright,” He says, neatly skirting around the Spice Girls incident, his hands wrapping around the steering wheel, “Help me get to your place.”

               You give him a couple of directions and soon enough Seonghwa is on a main road. You make a mental note to eventually Map Quest some stuff for him later so he can learn the town layout faster.

               Wanting to fill the silence before your brain gets swept up in the mental image of sitting in his lap, you go, “Are you excited for Halloween? Hopefully we don’t get stuck working late.”

               “Do you usually do something for Halloween?”

               Of course he deflects immediately. You should have known better than to ask Seonghwa a question about himself. “Sometimes. Last year I went to a party but it was a total buzzkill. I don’t know what I’m doing this year.”

               “Do you like horror movies?”

               “They’re okay. Do you?”

               “Yeah, I like them.” Wow, finally an answer out of him! Progress.

               “Oh, wait, turn right at this light,” You say as Seonghwa shifts into the other lane.

               At the red light, he looks out the side window and says, “So far, this is near my own place. Maybe we don’t live too far away from each other.”

               “Maybe.” Did you dare ask another question? “Do you live alone?”

               Seonghwa hesitates for a moment and then replies, “Yeah, I do. What about you?”

               You spare an extra second to study his face. Every interaction with Seonghwa, while friendly enough, gives you the feeling that he is constantly holding back in some respect. Aspects of himself are carefully hidden, making you wonder what he is like behind the perfectly pleasant façade he shows at work.

               “Yeah. Do you like living alone?”

               “It’s a little different than what I am used to,” Seonghwa says carefully, glancing at you for a moment.

               You point to a road ahead. “You can turn down here.” After he does so, you ask, “What are you used to?”

               Seonghwa’s hands tighten around the wheel. You get the sense he is struggling to answer, torn between talking about himself and staying private.

               “Listen, Seonghwa,” You begin, “I get the sense you really don’t like talking about yourself. That’s fine. I don’t want to come off all ‘hey, tell me your life story’ and shit. I know we just met.”

               There is another red light and the car stops. Seonghwa tilts his face to look at you. You’re struck again by how handsome you find him and how his intense gaze startles you into silence.

               “It has nothing to do with you. I don’t mean to seem so closed off.” He turns his attention back to the road, drumming his fingers against the steering wheel before saying, “I moved here because my girlfriend and I broke up recently. I’m not used to living alone because I lived with her.”

               “Oh,” You mumble as the light turns green, feeling awkward, “I didn’t mean to – I mean…”

               “It’s okay,” He reassures you, his attention back on the road, “I’m a private person but I don’t want to come off rude.”

               Quietly, you point out the next turn. It doesn’t take long to stop at the small apartment complex you’ve lived in the past year. Grabbing your bag, anxious to get out of the car after fumbling straight into making Seonghwa feel as if he needed to explain himself, you stop just in time to remember he might not know how to get to his own place.

               “I can figure it out,” He claims while you rummage in your bag for a stray sheet of paper and pen.

               “No, no, you were nice enough to drop me off. What’s your address?” After he says it, you scribble down rough directions that he can follow and thrust the paper in his direction. “Here, this should help.”

               When he takes the paper from you, his fingers brush against yours. Your breath catches at the small touch.

               “Listen, I meant what I said,” Seonghwa says, “You don’t need to feel bad.”

               “Yeah but I didn’t want you to talk about anything negative like a breakup. That is way uncool of me. It isn’t any of my business why you moved here or who you live with.”

               “True but I also don’t wanna come off like a jerk.”

               “You weren’t, I just…” You’re struggling to find a safe sentence to land on. How did you not say that you wanted to learn more about him because you were immediately attracted and therefore curious? “Wanted to be friendly. Since we work together.”

               “We’re chilling, don’t worry about it. Let me walk you to your door, at least.”

               “You don’t need to do that,” You protest even though your heart skips a beat.

               “I don’t mind.”

               You know that you’re probably supposed to refuse again until Seonghwa relents and even though you still have anxiety from the misstep of having him open up about his past, your desire to be around him for longer wins out. You nod in acceptance, getting out of the car and rubbing your arms in the cold air, reminding yourself to bring a hoodie tomorrow.

               Seonghwa circles around the car, waiting for you to shuffle over. The apartment complex isn’t anything special, just two floors and a run down looking pool in the middle that is currently closed for fall and winter. You lead him up to the second floor, stopping in front of your apartment. Seonghwa is peering over the railing to look at the pool. Some of his black hair falls in front of his eyes. His hands are shoved in the pockets of his pants to keep them warm. Your eyes drop to his slender waist and you swallow hard. Everything about this man seems to have been specially created to drive you up the wall.

               “You ever use the pool?”

               “Not really. Why, do you like swimming?”

               “I do. My apartment complex doesn’t have a pool though.”

               Without thinking, you offer, “Well, when the pool reopens, you can come here.”

               He looks over at you, something flickering across his eyes quickly. Straightening up, he nods, giving you a small smile. “Alright, that sounds sweet.”

               Shifting the weight of your bag onto your other shoulder, you go, “Well…thanks again for the ride. Try not to get lost on the way home. Do you work tomorrow?”

               “I do.”

               “I’ll see you tomorrow then.”

               Seonghwa lingers for a moment. Once again, you get the feeling he is restraining from doing or saying something that might expose too much of himself. It is a curious thing, you think, especially given that you just assumed the whole ex-girlfriend thing is why he was being so reserved. Maybe that’s just him as a person though. Just really private and constantly filtering his behavior through a thousand nets.

               “Alright, talk to you later.”

               “See you later, alligator,” You reply and immediately chastised yourself for ending on such a corny line.

               Seonghwa turns around, walking back towards the staircase. You trace the curve of his shoulders underneath his shirt, getting a brief mental image of your hands flat against the top of them while you’re under his body. Shaking your head to fend off the fantasy, you turn away.

               He’s probably incredibly boring in bed. He’s an attractive guy but he’s so mild mannered and pleasant in an easily digestible way. Why get distracted into some annoying crush when the end result won’t be worth it?

Thursday, October 9th, 1997

               “Wassup?” San plops down in the chair next to yours while gesturing at the TV. “You watch this?”

               Once again, it is mid-afternoon in the break room. You’re eating lunch, staring at the grainy image on the TV that is showing a Buffy the Vampire Slayer ad for the new episode on Monday night.

               “No, do you?”

               “Nah but Yeosang records it every week to watch.”

               Yeosang is San’s roommate. That information doesn’t really surprise you seeing as he also watches The X-Files religiously.

               “Well, I bet he will enjoy this episode,” You squint, looking at the ad closer, “About a gigantic reptile thing in a frat house.”

               It is at that moment that Seonghwa steps into the break room. He is wearing a short sleeve black shirt today along with the ugly blue vest and a pair of black jeans. San waves when he enters.

               “Hey, dude. Are you on break?”

               “Yeah, I am.”

               San kicks out the chair on the other side of you, motioning to it. “Wanna chill with us?” When Seonghwa isn’t looking, he winks at you. You fight the urge to punch his shoulder.

               Seonghwa nods, stopping to get something out of the fridge before settling in next to you. He catches your eye and gives you a small smile. Your cheeks feel warm so you turn your attention back to your sandwich but you can still feel his gaze.

               “Damn, I wanna see this,” San interrupts whatever the hell was passing in between Seonghwa and yourself.

               “I think the title is kinda goofy though,” Seonghwa remarks.

               “You don’t like I Know What You Did Last Summer? I think it sounds a little mysterious. You know, it’s by the same writer as Scream,” San nudges you, “What do you think?”

               “I think I haven’t seen Scream so that sentence means nothing to me.”

               “Whoa, what, you haven’t seen Scream?” Seonghwa’s attention is back on you, “The sequel comes out soon. You should watch it. It’s really good.”

               Slightly desperate for something new to discuss with Seonghwa that didn’t involve asking questions leading to awkward moments, you leap at this opportunity. “Alright. I guess I can see if Blockbuster has it.”

               San scoffs. “Are you serious? I’ve been asking you to watch Scream for months – ow!” He winces as your foot collides with his shin under the table.

               Seonghwa frowns. “Are you alright?”

               “Yes,” San wheezes, “I always forget about the metal bar under the table. Just whacked my leg against it.”

               “He’s fine,” You say quickly, shooting daggers at him.

               Seonghwa tilts his body in your direction and goes, “I own Scream. I can bring the VHS tape tomorrow if you’re also working.”

               “I don’t have a day off until Sunday so I’ll be here. But are you sure? I don’t want you to lend me anything…”

               “Yeah, it’s okay. Don’t go to Blockbuster. I always do and then forget and end up owing them an annoying amount of late fees.”

               San has quickly forgotten the shin kicking incident and nods in agreement. “He’s right. Avoid it if you can.”

               “I’ll bring it tomorrow.”

               “Okay, well, thanks.”

               “Hey, when you’re done watching it, can I borrow it? Yeosang still hasn’t seen it either,” San goes, “He’s so bad at watching movies.”

               “Yeah, that’s no problem,” Seonghwa replies, “I’m still unpacking but I know where it is.”

               “Great, thanks dude,” San exclaims before turning his attention back to the TV.

               San says something else but you don’t really hear him because Seonghwa is still looking at you. Even though Seonghwa is friendly yet distant, your body seems to react to him in a way that takes you by surprise every time you’re close. It’s the warmth of his body so near combined with his toned arms and perfect skin. The effect is slightly dizzying. Toss in the fact you haven’t had a crush on someone since your last relationship ended three years ago, you are struggling between thinking his personality doesn’t match up with yours and wanting to throw yourself at him. The entire thing is confusing.

               Seonghwa’s lips are slightly parted as if he was going to say more but falls silent while staring at you. There is something brewing in his eyes, something you haven’t seen before. It’s intense and your stomach swoops as if leaping off a cliff. His hand presses down hard against his knee to steady himself. He suddenly looks away towards the window, cutting the moment short.

               You’re breathless, wondering what the hell that had been about. The way Seonghwa looked at you mingling with the feeling that he was reigning himself in, closing something off – you don’t know what to make of it. Could it be he also is attracted to you and is trying to hide it? In all your interactions with him, he’s been kind and considerate but nothing indicated he saw you in a physical way.

               You force yourself into focusing on whatever San is saying, trying to push all the swirling emotions out of your mind.

Friday, October 10th, 1997

               You sigh, plopping down on your bed, stretching out. Work today was a chore but Seonghwa had given you his copy of Scream. With San bothering you to watch it quickly so he could let Yeosang borrow it, you figured you’d just watch it tonight before going to sleep.

               Leaning over the side of your bed, you rummage through your bag until your fingers feel the edge of the VHS tape. Pulling it out, you gaze at the cover for a few seconds, lost in thought. You’re thinking about how Seonghwa looked today right before his shift ended. You were on your break and he was at the lockers, tugging a hoodie over his head. His white shirt lifted up so slightly that if you hadn’t been already staring at him, you wouldn’t have noticed the quick glimpse of a few inches of hard abdomen. That was enough to send your body into overdrive, something you still hadn’t calmed down from when he came over to hand you the Scream VHS.

               “Thanks,” You mumbled quickly, hoping that he didn’t have the ability to read your mind.

               “Not a problem. You can just give it to San as soon as you’re done with it. I’m not in any hurry to get it back.”

               He gave you that same easy going smile, the type of smile that made you wonder what he would be like if his kind demeanor cracked and he had you pushed against a wall with his lips against your neck.

               “Right, yeah, cool.” You said in what you hoped was a casual tone.

               When he turned around to leave, your eyes lingered on his waist before turning your attention back to your food, the VHS tape in your lap like a heavy weight.

               Dragging yourself back to the present moment, you pull the tape out of the sleeve, finding it a bit curious there isn’t a sticker with the movie name on it. You wiggle to the edge of your bed, shoving the tape into the player. There are a few seconds of VHS tracking and then the picture pops into view.

               You’re staring at a palm tree against a blue sky, slightly out of focus. The tape goes grainy for a moment and then the camera swoops downward. Someone’s face comes into view, filling up the lens before their hand pushes the camera away while they are laughing.

               Uh, okay, this is not what I thought the movie was gonna look like, you think while squinting at the TV.

               “Can you get the camera out of my face?” comes a familiar voice.

               “Stop, you love when the camera is on,” A woman replies coyly.

               The shot snaps into focus then, showing Seonghwa against a wall. He is wearing a sleeveless white and blue striped shirt, his black hair ruffling in the wind. The sight of him is like a punch to your chest, knocking the air out of your lungs. His smile is bright, completely different from the ones you’ve seen at work. It is unguarded. Even his posture is relaxed with none of the slightly stiff professional nature he has at work.

               Entranced, you can only stare as the scene continues. Seonghwa runs his long fingers through his hair, his smile turning into a grin.

               “So do you,” He counters.

               You can hear the sound of ocean waves just off screen. He turns his face to the side, the camera lingering on this for a moment before it lowers for a second, showing a wooden pathway. It cuts suddenly, immediately shifting into another scene.

               Seonghwa is standing on the beach now, slipping his shirt off and tossing it onto the blanket that is on the sand. You didn’t think it was possible to see him look so comfortable in his own skin. He doesn’t seem to be shy at all, staring at the camera with a challenging look on his face. On top of that, the sight of Seonghwa shirtless is bowling you over. He is toned, tanned and has muscles you want to press your hands against.

               “What?” He goes.

               “Nothing,” The woman says, “I can’t film you getting into the water?”

               “You’re just filming me undressing.”

               “Well, it’s not the first time, is it?”

               He rolls his eyes but there is a good natured expression on his face. He shoves his thumbs into his swim trunks, tugging them down half an inch before exploding into laughter and turning around, jogging towards the water.

               Another cut. New scene. This has to be him and his ex. I need to turn this off. It’s obviously not meant for me.

Seonghwa is sitting at a table in a diner, looking over a menu. He raises his eyes, making eye contact with the camera then he laughs again. He looks relaxed, his smile bright and posture resting comfortably against the booth.

“You look wicked good tonight,” The woman remarks and Seonghwa playfully shakes the menu in her direction.

“Good thing you’re getting it on camera, right?”

“Exactly.” She zooms in a little more. “Do you want to tell the imaginary audience what we’ll be filming later?”

“Oh, well, I think the imaginary audience knows by now what we like to film,” He says with a mock seriousness that makes your heart constrict. “Isn’t that right?”

The woman giggles and the scene cuts suddenly. This time the camera is in a bedroom with the lens focusing on Seonghwa once again. He is shirtless, close to the camera.

               “You gonna keep it on while I fuck you?” He says in a low voice.

               The woman doesn’t reply, just giggles.

               Seonghwa’s eyes drop for a moment before locking back onto the camera. You’ve never seen such an expression on his face – a combination of lust and reveling in the fact the entire thing is being filmed. It is as if the exterior you’ve seen on him since he began to work at the store is all bullshit, a lie in which he hides behind, and you’re seeing him for real now through the lens.

               “Maybe I’ll film you when my cock is down your throat,” He continues, “You want that?”

               The woman titters again before going, “Yeah, I want that.”

               Seonghwa grins, moving back a little so that his entire body is in view. The low light makes it difficult to fully make him out but you can see the curve of his shoulders, the stiffness against the fabric of his boxers, and the way he motions for her to come closer.

               “Then give me the camera and get on your knees,” He says sternly while lowering one hand towards his boxers, starting to pull them down –

               The sight of Seonghwa about to expose himself finally snaps you out of your shock. Quickly, you lean over and smash the eject button on the tape, yanking it out of the machine and dropping it to the floor as if it is going to burn you.

               You stare at it, breathless, your mind spinning. It didn’t take a genius to figure out where that tape was going to lead. After all, people still talked about the tape of Pamela Anderson and Tommy Lee; it had been covered in media for months and was still often a topic of conversation.

               You are aware Seonghwa just moved and the tape must be misplaced. Do you tell him? Do you just pretend you watched Scream and not mention it? But San wanted to borrow the copy as well. Obviously, he couldn’t get his hands on it. You could lie and say the tape didn’t play. But the excuse wouldn’t work because Seonghwa would try it on his own player and realize what was really on it. You could pretend you lost the tape and destroy it. But that also didn’t seem right. It wasn’t your tape, after all, and eventually Seonghwa could put the pieces together and believe you kept the tape to watch or worse. It felt as if the only choice would be to come clean to Seonghwa and let him know he accidentally gave you the wrong tape.  

               On the other side of things, you couldn’t believe how different Seonghwa was on camera. There was such a relaxed, casual demeanor to him. He seemed more at ease in front of the lens than in reality. For the first time since meeting him, it felt that you truly saw him. The quiet confidence, no hint of shyness in the way he spoke or removed his clothes. On top of that, his body was absolutely banging in a way that made your thighs clench and hands bunch up in your blanket.

               Then give me the camera and get on your knees.

               You think about that moment in the break room when Seonghwa’s eyes were heavy on yours and his hand gripped his knee. The little bit of his true personality coming through before being shoved back down, perhaps? Just an hour ago, you thought everything about Seonghwa had been figured out. Not anymore.

               Your mind flashes back to his smile and the expression on his face while the camera filmed. Unguarded. Exposed. Hiding behind nothing and leaving everything, including sex, on a VHS tape.

               What would such a thing be like? A small voice in your head wonders.

Saturday, October 11th, 1997

               “Hey, good morning.”

               You jump out of your skin, slamming your locker door shut and turning to see Seonghwa standing there.

               “Hi, Seonghwa! How’s it hanging?!” You exclaim loudly with such false cheer that you inwardly wince.

               Seonghwa outwardly winces. “You’re at an excitement level I can’t quite reach given we are at work.”

               Then give me the camera and get on your knees.

               You make a garbled noise in response, eyes darting all over the place. You can’t stare at Seonghwa’s face because then you think of his unguarded smile. You can’t stare at his chest because then the mental image of his abs pops into view. You can’t even look at his small waist, something that had been giving you great pleasure to sneak glances at during the week, because you’re picturing the way he was tugging down his boxers.

               “Are you…uh…feeling alright?”

               “Yeah, just didn’t sleep well,” You say quickly, “Tired.”

               His eyes move to your locker and he gestures to it. “Oh, did you watch Scream?”

               Your head turns sharply. The VHS tape is poking out of the top of your bag. You stammer out a collection of gibberish, stalling for time. You didn’t want to have this conversation right now; you had been picturing it after work, maybe in his car or something. Not in the break room before it hits ten in the morning.

               Seonghwa looks perplexed once again. You don’t blame him.

               Finally, you settle on, “I would really like to discuss the tape with you.”

               His features brighten. “Yeah, sure.”

               “After work?”

               Confusion once again but he slowly replies, “Alright.”

               You scurry past him, shouting your goodbye while exiting the room and hurrying to the women’s department. Seonghwa’s smile from the tape is still blazing across your brain in vivid colour and no matter how much you try not to think about it, you can still see the lascivious look in his eyes as he began to remove his boxers.

               You’ll tell him after work, you think desperately, even though it will be mortifying and he most likely will never speak to you again.

               As long as you get through this shift without losing your cool, everything should be fine. Just don’t think about him on the tape. Don’t think about him having sex and recording it. Don’t think about how relaxed he looked. Don’t think about how sexy his body looked.

               Should be simple.

*

               You manage to avoid Seonghwa the entire day, including an awkward moment where you wedged yourself into a clothing rack as he walked by. You were worried about blurting out what was on the tape in the middle of his work shift or even worse – admitting that you were curious about how he filmed himself doing such things and how it felt to let go with a camera on. In quiet moments when a customer wasn’t bothering you, your mind travels back to him like an overplayed record.

               You have a difficult time wrapping your head around the Seonghwa on the tape and the Seonghwa in reality. Always polite, yet distant, always kind but professional, in the few days you’ve known him, you’ve bounced between wanting him physically and believing his personality would keep a deeper connection from potentially forming.

               But on the tape, you viewed Seonghwa as to how he truly is. There is no façade when the camera is on him. You see him unfiltered. The hint of mischief in his smile, that sense of freedom when he was jogging towards the waves, his quiet confidence when he was talking dirty – why were such things hidden in his day to day life?

               By the time the end of your shift comes, you are anxious to get the tape and tell Seonghwa you need to talk. Since you were finishing shifts at the same time, you figured you’d wait for him in the break room. It is a little past seven by the time you enter. The break room has a couple of employees milling around but not San, who snuck out an hour earlier in order to hit up the club with Wooyoung.

               Standing in front of your locker, you reach for the lock but as your fingers graze the cold metal, you realize with a jolt it is unlocked. With a small sigh, you realize San must have opened it earlier. You had a bottle of ibuprofen in your locker that he would use occasionally and eventually gave him your locker combination so he would stop bothering you.

               But as you reach for your bag, your eyes narrow. Heart thudding, you rummage around in it with growing panic. The VHS tape isn’t in the bag. The tape isn’t in the bag.

               “What the fuck?” You hiss in between your teeth, your heart plummeting.

               You are about to upend the bag onto the floor when Seonghwa’s voice cuts through. “Hey, finishing up too?”

               Surprised, you jump, flattening your back against the locker, clutching the bag against your chest. “Seonghwa! Hey! Hi!”

               “Lots of enthusiasm for work today,” He notes, removing his work vest. His slender fingers twist the dial on his locker. You stare at them, momentarily transfixed. He glances at you. “What?”

               “Nothing. No, that’s a lie. Seonghwa, I seem to have misplaced the tape.”

               “Oh, Scream? Nah, San came to me earlier and said he noticed it was in your locker. I told him you watched it and he grabbed it before he left to give to his roommate. He said he was cutting out early to head to the club or something. Yeosang…that’s his roommate, right? San mentioned that Yeosang was gonna watch it with him and everyone else later tonight.”

               Every word out of his mouth, every word tumbling out of his beautifully plush lips, makes you want to sink into the planet’s core. The panic that had been wiggling in your brain while looking for the tape is now washing over your body like a cold wave.

               You picture Yeosang, whom you have only met briefly before, hitting play on the video. A room filled with his friends plus San and Wooyoung. The video starting, them seeing Seonghwa. How long would they let the tape run? Probably to where you ejected it. Enough for them to know what is on that tape, enough for them to know what Seonghwa does for fun.

               You drop your bag to the floor in shock, reaching out for Seonghwa. Your hand grips the front of his sweater. His eyes widen in surprise.

               “Seonghwa,” You say in a choked voice.

               He looks a bit flustered, eyes darting over your shoulder to see if anyone else is seeing this. “H-hey, I…” He swallows hard. “I…”

               “Seonghwa, that movie isn’t on the tape.”

               His nerves, possibly because he thought you were literally throwing yourself at him during work, are now washed away in confusion. “What do you mean?”

               “Scream is not on that tape. It’s…something else,” You steel yourself, plunging forward, “It’s a home video. Of you and your ex.”

               The colour immediately drains from Seonghwa’s face. Your grip loosens on his shirt, watching as he goes through a myriad of facial expressions before settling on something that looks blandly neutral. You’re amazed at how quickly he collects himself.

               “I didn’t watch it,” You say hurriedly, talking a mile a minute, “Well, I watched like 3 or 4 minutes but then it was starting to get a little….anyway, I shut it off then. I was going to tell you. I brought it back today so I could tell you after work. I just didn’t think San was going…okay, it’s fine. It’s fine. We’ll page him. He’ll know to call here, right? I’ll just page him.”

               Seonghwa takes a slow deep breath. You can’t tell if he wants to scream, cry, or punch something. His calm demeanor does nothing to relax your own nerves. You don’t know what he is thinking. You go back to digging through your bag, pulling out the tiny phone number and address book you keep in there. Quickly, you head to the break room phone, yanking it off the receiver while flipping through the book to find San’s beeper number. You page him, hurriedly inputting the phone number of the store before hanging up.

               “Okay, we’ll just wait here for a few minutes. He’ll call back.”

               You aren’t sure if Seonghwa heard you. Looking over your shoulder, you see him standing in the same exact spot, his back to you.

               “Uh…Seonghwa?” You say tentatively. “Are you freaking out?”

               He turns around then, his features still amazingly collected in an extremely calm appearance. “Do you know where San lives?”

               “Where he lives? Yeah, I do. Oh, you want to go there?” You glance at the clock. “Yeah, I mean, it might be too early for him to be at the club. But shouldn’t we wait in case he calls?”

               “No,” He says curtly, “You’ll come with me and show me where his place is.”

               “Oh – oh, okay. Yeah, sure. Let’s go.”

               You can hardly keep up with Seonghwa’s long strides, scampering behind him as you exit the store and into the chilly weather. Tightening the hoodie you’ve managed to shove yourself into while following him, you get in his car silently. Even though Seonghwa is amazingly calm, you can tell he is on edge. The veneer he portrays to the world is on thin ice and you can almost feel the roiling tension under his skin. He starts the car and the radio plays softly.

               Pulling out of the parking spot, Seonghwa gets to the exit and grunts, “Tell me how to get to his place.”

               “Okay,” You say, adding on, “You’ll take a left at the light,” You hesitate before going, “Seonghwa, I’m sorry. I didn’t mean for this to happen.’’

               His hands tighten on the wheel, the only indication of his stress. “It isn’t your fault. I should have checked the tape before I gave it to you. Due to my move and breakup, things are all over the place. I don’t even know how it ended up in the Scream case.”

               “Even so, I should have turned it off immediately. I just…” What do you even say? I was entranced by how different you were on camera. I’m deeply attracted to you and I want to get to know the version of you that was on the tape. I’m curious about what you do for fun. Maybe a little too intrigued for my own good.

               “It’s fine,” Seonghwa interrupts you swiftly, “I really don’t want to discuss the tape while this is on.” He gestures to the radio which is currently playing Supermodel (You Better Work). “Just a little too ridiculous for me right now.”

               You fall silent, the words tumbling around in your chest. “A right up here,” You mumble after a couple of minutes.

               You know it is a morally grey area to keep thinking about Seonghwa in the bedroom, talking openly about getting his dick sucked and filming it. You know it’s wrong to wonder what the rest of the tape looked like. Your curiosity feels like a mark against your moral code.

               Fifteen minutes later, you have pulled up to the apartment complex that San resides in. Getting out of the car, you study the building, trying to remember what number his apartment is.

               “The door,” Seonghwa points, “You don’t happen to have a key to get into the foyer, do you?”

               “No. I guess we can buzz and see if anyone answers. But I…I can’t remember his apartment number.”

               He looks at you swiftly. “Please try to remember.” You can tell it is taking him great effort to keep his voice even and not start shaking you.

               But you’ve only been here a couple of times so nothing appears in your head. Seonghwa takes off towards the door, giving you no choice but to follow. He stands in front of the door, looking around to see the chances of someone coming by so he could slink in after them.

               “You remember it yet?”

               “No, sorry.”

               He turns to the set of apartment numbers written out across the buzzers and randomly hits one. No answer. He presses another one.

               “Is this your plan?” You ask.

               “Yes,” He replies calmly.

               “What are you going to do if someone answers?”

               “Lie.”

               You aren’t sure what to say. This is yet another new side of Seonghwa, one driven by the desperation of someone seeing the tape and finding out what he’s really like.

               On the fourth buzz, someone gruffly goes, “Who is it?” The speaker crackles.

               “Hi, I live a few places down from you and forgot my key,” Seonghwa says smoothly, “I’m so sorry to bother you. I just wanted to get buzzed in real quick.”

               “Yeah, whatever.” The door clicks open and the speaker goes silent.

               Seonghwa grabs the door handle, shooting you a look as he holds it open. You slip past him into the entrance of the building. Once you stand in the foyer, staring at the row of small mailboxes, the apartment number bounces back into your brain.

               “It’s #1117!” You declare, happy at your brain’s ability to recall such a fact.

               “Great, let’s go,” Seonghwa says while walking towards the elevator, pressing the button.

               The foyer is silent as the two of you wait for the elevator to come down. You bounce on the balls of your feet a little, your nerves getting the best of you. You’re worried about Seonghwa, you’re worried about someone seeing that tape and his secret getting out and you’re still dealing with the fact your mind won’t drop mental images that it shouldn’t be thinking about.

               In the elevator, Seonghwa exhales slowly. It is the only sign of tension brewing in him. You marvel at how calm and collected he is. If you were in this situation, there would be no chance of being in control. You’re barely in control of your emotions now, dealing with something that technically would have no impact on your life.

               The doors glide open and Seonghwa marches down the quiet hallway. His steps are muffled against the carpet, coming to a stop in front of San and Yeosang’s apartment. He rings the doorbell but there is no reply. He tries again. Nothing.

               “Maybe they really have gone to the club already,” You suggest.

               In response, Seonghwa bangs his fist against the door before resting his hand against the wood, closing his eyes. You can feel the energy crackling off him, just like that moment in the break room the other day - that same sensation of him wrangling himself under control, shoving his real self into a small box and tying it up with a bow.

               “Do you know what club they go to?”

               “Yeah. It’s nearby.”

               “Let’s go.” He turns around to return to the elevator.

               “Wait,” You hurry after Seonghwa, “We’re just going to go to the club and what?”

               “Ask where the tape is. If it’s in the apartment, I’m going to ask for San to get it for me. If he still has it on him, I’ll just ask for it back.”

               “How are you going to explain why you need it so badly without…you know.”

               The elevator arrives and he steps inside. “I don’t know. I’ll figure it out when we get there.”

               You stand next to him, feeling the warmth off his body. He’s wearing a form fitting white sweater today due to the temperature and you cannot help but notice how it lays across his chest. His black jeans are also snug against his slender waist. It is difficult to look at him and not picture the images of him on the beach and in the bedroom. Cheeks getting warm, you stare steadfastly ahead at the elevator doors, which finally open to release you from the ever growing tension.

               Back outside, Seonghwa is hurriedly walking back to the car. The sun has fully dipped below the horizon now, the last strands of dying daylight long gone. You cross your arms, the cold seeping into the fabric of your hoodie.

               “Seonghwa,” You say tentatively as he reaches the car, “Do you wanna talk about it now? Since Rupaul isn’t playing, I mean.”

               “I really don’t.”

               “I don’t want to make things awkward between us.”

               His hand, hovering over the handle of the car door, drops back to his side. His eyes are on you, focused in a way they haven’t been since the news of the tape landing in San’s hands were uttered to him. You suddenly feel exposed.

               Seonghwa crosses the small gap in a couple of seconds, looking at you intensely. “What do you want to talk about exactly? You want to discuss something, surely, and I don’t think that it is about your apology.”

               “I don’t know what you mean,” You mumble quickly, balking at the way his eyes tear through your defenses.

               “You want to know more about the tape? You want to know what I do in my spare time?”

               “N-no!” You lie, “No, I just didn’t want this to mess up anything between us.”

               Seonghwa shakes his head, pulling away from you and exhaling slowly before he loses his cool. “There isn’t time to sit and chat about everything. Can you please just get in the car and tell me where this club San goes to is?”

               You nod silently and Seonghwa turns around, getting into the car. Rooted to the spot for a moment, your heart thrumming in your chest, you try to ignore that little voice in your head – a voice entirely new, one that you don’t know what to do with.

               What if you stopped getting yourself back in control, Seonghwa? What would that look like? I want to see what it looks like. I want to see what the real you is and I want to keep pressing against that exterior until it cracks.

               You’ve never dealt with such a desire before. It is as if a giant dog is tugging you along on a leash and you can’t pull it back. You can dig your heels against the pavement, yank on the leash and beg for the dog to stop but it doesn’t work. The little voice in your head, the centre of your curiosity about Seonghwa mixed with your attraction to him, is a dangerous thing.

               Perhaps it isn’t just Seonghwa who is always struggling to remain cool, calm and collected in every situation. Maybe you’re not so different from him.

*

               Twenty minutes later, Seonghwa is parking at the club San frequents. The place is crowded with a line snaking around the outside of the building. Seonghwa stares at the line quietly after turning off the car. You know what he is thinking – time is important and he isn’t going to waste it waiting in a long line with the risk of the bouncer saying no. His fingers are curled lightly around the steering wheel, his brows furrowed together in concentration.

               “What’s the plan? You gonna gank someone’s VIP pass?” You joke lightly.

               He shifts, pulling his wallet out of his pocket and opening it. His fingers glide across the bills inside as he counts them quickly before looking in your direction. “How much cash do you have on you?”

               “What?”

               “I’ll pay you back,” Seonghwa says impatiently, “We’re just going to bribe the bouncer and skip the line.”

               “Is – is that allowed?”

               “No.”

               “Oh. Uhm,” You fish your wallet out of your bag. “I have a hundred bucks.”

               “Great, and I have two hundred,” He holds out his hand, wiggling his fingers at you.

               “Wait, we’re going to give the bouncer three hundred dollars?” You ask incredulously.

               “No, we’re going to start with a hundred and go from there,” Seonghwa explains, “They might be content with that. Your money is last resort.” When you hesitate, he sighs. “I told you, I’m good for it. I’ll pay you back immediately. I’ll pay you back tonight. As soon as I get the tape. Don’t start wiggin out on me now.”

               ���I am not wiggin out,” You say defensively, “I just have never bribed someone before.”

               “Technically, I’m bribing. You’re merely watching.”

               As soon as the words leave his mouth, an awkward silence settles across the car. Seonghwa neatly averts his gaze, pretending to be fascinated with the money in his wallet. You swallow hard, unable to stop yourself from thinking about the tape.

               You thrust the money at him which he takes with a mumbled thanks before getting out of the car. You look down at your hoodie and work pants, unable to recall if this place has a dress code or not. Probably, given the long line. You sigh, opening the car door and trailing after Seonghwa.

               He stops at one point, looking over his shoulder at you. “Are you comfortable pretending we’re on a date?”

               “Excuse me?”

               “I’m going to bribe the bouncer under the guise that I’m trying to impress you. Can I put my arm around you when we get up there? I won’t do anything else.”

               “How do you come up with this shit?” You say without thinking, “The entire night, you just seamlessly come up with these ideas and lies and stories.” Every interaction we’ve had before tonight has been pleasant and normal to the point where I thought you were attractive but a little boring, is what you don’t add on to the sentence, and now I’m seeing all sorts of sides to you I never thought lurked inside.

               Seonghwa ignores the question, instead asking one of his own. “Are you comfortable with me putting my arm around your waist?”

               “Yeah, fine,” You mumble although the idea of him touching your body is making your skin warm.

               “Alright. Try not to look so nervous.”

               Seonghwa walks towards the club with a confidence you cannot hope to possibly mimic. Gone is the easy going attitude he carries at work. Instead, he acts as though he owns the place and is merely popping by to give it a look. His arm circles around your waist as the bouncer comes into view. You can hear people complaining about him cutting the line but Seonghwa doesn’t pay them any attention.

               His arm around your waist is distracting in an agonizing way. Every nerve in your body has awakened to him and the desire is dizzying. As you approach the bouncer, Seonghwa nods his head in the man’s direction, extending his hand outward and slipping the hundred dollars in his palm.

               “How’s it hangin?” Seonghwa asks casually, pulling you closer against him.

               The bouncer glances quickly down at the money and replies evenly, “Could be better.”

               Another hundred dollars is given and the bouncer pretends to study his clipboard and nods, moving to the side. “You’re on the list. Have a good night.”

               Seonghwa nods, guiding you past him and into the club. On the way in, he brings his lips close to your ear and murmurs, “See? Didn’t even need your cash.”

               You’re feeling slightly in awe of the Seonghwa on display tonight – gone is the fake work personality, just someone tackling the situation at hand in whatever way would work best even if it included lying. His arm is still around your waist, his body angled at a slight slant as he leads you through the crowd of people and onto the main dance floor.

               The music is loud, cramming your skull immediately as a crush of people squeeze against Seonghwa and yourself. The flickering lights dance over Seonghwa’s hair as his grip tightens on your waist so the two of you don’t get separated. He pulls you along until he finds an alcove, releasing his hold and facing you.

               “Do you know where they’d be?” He shouts.

               “The dance floor! San always talks about dancing a lot when he’s here!” You yell back.

               Seonghwa scowls. “I fucking hate clubs!”

               Your hand reaches for his, pulling him out of the alcove and towards the main dance floor while This Is Your Night blasts so loudly that you can feel it vibrate along your bones. Wiggling through the vast swarm of people, you successfully make your way to the main dance floor. It is impossible to find San in the crush of people. Seonghwa tugs on your hand, getting your attention while pointing to a large staircase leading to the second floor.

               You nod and he takes the lead, quickly lost in a sea of gauzy club clothes in colours that could cause someone’s retinas to bleed, seeing more cleavage and mini dresses than you thought possible in one space. Your hoodie and work pants and lack of high heels have you receiving a few confused glances as Seonghwa works his way through the crowd.

               Of course, you also notice that Seonghwa is attracting a lot of attention in his own way. No one seems to care that his outfit isn’t club attire in the same way they cared about yours. While making your way up the stairs, you can hear giggles follow as people check Seonghwa out. This sparks an intense irritation in your chest for reasons you can’t fully explain.

               Standing on one of the stairs, you gaze out across the dance floor, squinting to try to spot San or Wooyoung. Someone bangs into your side, cursing at you standing there. Seonghwa turns around sharply, glowering at the woman with such an intensity that she scampers up the rest of the stairs, wobbling on her strappy sandals with huge heels. His hand is on your lower back protectively.

               “We are standing right on the stairs,” You shout at him.

               “I don’t care,” He says crossly, “They can move around us. The staircase is huge.”

               Seonghwa’s gaze is steady on yours and for a few seconds, time seems to stretch out. The music becomes background noise, his hand against your back, his body facing yours. He has one strand of hair that has come out of place, betraying his inner turmoil that he has been attempting to hide all night.

               You bring your hand upwards, pushing his hair back into place before you can stop yourself. He reaches for you, fingers gently wrapping around your wrist. Your breath catches, thrown off by his touch and the intensity of his stare. For a brief second, you think it is finally going to happen – the fissures that have formed in Seonghwa’s carefully constructed polite personality are going to shatter –

               But then, over his shoulder, you spot San weaving his way away from the bar, holding two drinks over his head, heading towards a small table where Wooyoung is.

               “I found them!” You exclaim and the moment passes as Seonghwa looks over his shoulder, eyes narrowing as he spots San.

               He swiftly turns around to head back down the stairs, holding onto your hand again. His impatience is exposed through the way he practically shoves his way through the crowd. The time the grumbles are not of admiration but of annoyance. Seonghwa doesn’t seem to care.

               San’s eyes widen when he spots you and one eyebrow raises at the sight of Seonghwa holding your hand. Suddenly embarrassed, you pull your hand away from him although Seonghwa doesn’t seem to notice. He’s on a mission and only one thing is on his mind.

               The print on San’s shirt defies logic and reasoning, distantly reminding you of a Taco Bell you stepped into a few weeks ago. Paired with even more colourful pants, you are unsure how it took this long to spot him in the crowd.

               “What are you two doing here?” San exclaims loudly.

               Without preamble, Seonghwa goes, “I need the Scream tape back.”

               “You came all this way for that?” He asks confused.

               Wooyoung slides out of the small booth he was occupying, plucking the drink out of San’s hand. Tonight, he’s wearing a nylon dark pink button up with three of the buttons undone, exposing his tanned chest. His pants are so tight that you aren’t sure how he even got into them.

 Wooyoung waves at you and goes, “Who is your friend?”

               “New coworker,” San exclaims over the music before turning his attention back to Seonghwa. “I don’t have it. I gave it to Yeosang when I got home and he took it with him when he left.”

               Seonghwa’s hands flex at his sides, a motion only you notice. “Where is he?”

               “I think he’s out with Mingi and Jongho tonight. They were gonna watch the movie at Mingi’s place. We were going to meet them there later.”

               “Where is he now?” Seonghwa grinds out between clenched teeth.

               San is picking up on the tension, glancing at you but your expression gives nothing away. “Is everything alright? Why do you need the tape back so badly?”

               “I’ll explain later. I just need it back tonight,” Seonghwa replies.

               Wooyoung, who has been silent this entire conversation, his eyes bouncing between the two men, throws his arm around San’s shoulders while pointing at Seonghwa, still holding his drink. “Who is this guy? I like him. He gets right to the point. He’s very money, you know what I mean?”

               You interrupt quickly. “It’s to do with me, San. Please don’t ask any questions.”     

               It’s a lie, of course, but you know San will respect your request. You can feel Seonghwa’s eyes flick to you for a second.

               “Yeah, it’s no problem. I don’t mean to be pushy. Yeosang is at the minigolf course. The one with the big wizard in the middle, you know it?”

               “I do, yeah. Thanks for the help.”

               “It’s all good,” San replies.

               “Are you sure you don’t wanna hang?” Wooyoung asks Seonghwa, “We’re just getting started here.”

               “I appreciate the offer but we gotta bounce. Nice meeting you.” Seonghwa is already turning away, eyes darting towards the exit.

               You give the two men a small wave and then it is back to being smushed in the crowd, wiggling through the writhing bodies as the music pulsates around you. You’re walking behind Seonghwa, his hand searching for yours so the two of you don’t get separated. Your fingers curl around his and you find yourself studying the curve of his neck, the way his shoulders look in his sweater. From this angle, you can just make out the muscles underneath the tight fabric.

               Seonghwa glances over his shoulder to make sure you’re alright. You can’t read his gaze; something shifts behind it, ever changing and unfolding. In that moment, it feels as if you’ve known him forever, in a thousand different locations across a thousand different universes.

               Back into the night air, Seonghwa turns to face you. “Do you know what minigolf course San was talking about?”

               “Yeah, I do.”

               “Great, come on.” He takes off across the parking lot towards the car. His back is illuminated by the neon from the sign of the club, dousing him in a bright blue that his hair soaks up.

               You follow, catching up with him as Seonghwa asks, “What are you gonna tell San when he asks why you needed the tape?”

               “I don’t know. I just said that because I knew he would drop it.”

               “Well, you bought us time,” He remarks, opening the door to the car, “Tell me how to get to the minigolf course.”

               Back in the passenger seat, you can still feel the tension rolling off Seonghwa. Unable to help yourself, you try to reassure him. “We’ll find Yeosang there. I’m sure he will have the tape on him. It’s nearby too.”

               Seonghwa brushes off your words. “Just tell me how to get there.”

*

               It takes fifteen minutes to get to the minigolf course. A large garish wizard hat juts out of the centre of the course, covered in purple lights to make it glow. There is an assortment of other tacky objects sticking upwards – palm trees, a poorly made replica of the leaning tower of Pisa, a UFO that used to rotate five years ago but has since broken down and not been repaired.

               Seonghwa gazes at the sight through the windshield, clearly assessing the situation before getting out of the car. You take off after him, fighting the urge to grab his hand. It made sense in the club, not here.

               As you approach the entrance, the sound of top 40 radio plays loudly over speakers. Seonghwa bypasses the ticket booth completely, instead opting to head directly onto the course. But a bored looking employee glances up from the magazine he’s reading and gets to his feet quickly.

               “Whoa, hey there, homeslice. I need to see the ticket.” He extends his hand out to Seonghwa.

               “I’m not playing,” He says quickly, “I just am getting something from a friend.”

               “Sure, I can just let anyone pass by without a ticket,” The man rolls his eyes, “No ticket, no entrance.”

               “It’ll take less than five minutes,” Seonghwa protests, the agitation at being so close and so far starting to get to him.

               You hover by his side and quietly go, “Seonghwa, let’s just go buy a ticket.”

               “I don’t want to buy a ticket. The ticket is for playing minigolf and I’m not playing,” He grinds out, staring at the attendant, “So, just let me in.”

               The attendant, who is stuck wearing an ugly polyester blue button up, looks positively thrilled at finally having something interesting happening. “No can do, dude,” He says gleefully.

               You grab Seonghwa’s upper arm, briefly distracted by the firm muscles underneath, before carting him away from the entrance. While gesturing to the ticket booth, you go, “Let’s just buy a ticket. Do you really wanna throw down with the guy working the minigolf course? We won’t get to Yeosang that way.”

               “I don’t care,” He says stubbornly, “He’s being an asshole.”

               Your irritation gets the best of you. “If you could wrangle your repressed anger under control for two seconds –”

               “My what?”

               “You know exactly what I’m talking about, Seonghwa. The entire night, you’ve been furious at me and just won’t say it. So, you just shove everything down and ignore it and pretend you’re so calm and collected but you’re not –”

               Seonghwa takes a step towards you. His demeanor is icy cold now. “Not everything is about you,” He replies in a tone that could frost over a window, “As much as you want it to be.”

               Your eyes narrow. “What the hell does that mean?”

               “If I’ve been repressing anger all night, you’ve been holding back too. The multiple attempts to steer the conversation back to how sorry you are, how you found the tape, how little you watched of it.” Another step closer, close enough to touch now. “Why don’t you stop bullshitting and just admit you wanna ask me questions about the tape and what I do in my spare time?”

               You hadn’t thought it was that obvious. Seonghwa striking the centre of your heart with his accusation makes your breath catch. You can’t bring yourself to reply.

               “The tape not only has me on it but also my ex. It violates her privacy for anyone else to see it, not just mine. That’s the most important thing going on right now, not you having some sort of sexual awakening at seeing a few minutes of it.”

               You make a strangled noise in the back of your throat, knowing Seonghwa is correct but also feeling exposed at the same time. He stalks off past you, going towards the ticket booth. The employee at the entrance is gawking at the two of you although he didn’t hear anything said.

               “You and your boyfriend are pretty intense,” He says over the din of top forty music.

               “He’s not my boyfriend,” You mumble, looking over your shoulder at Seonghwa.

               Seonghwa is smiling casually at the person working the ticket booth. All earlier signs of irritation are wiped clean from his beautiful face. He is chatting as though he doesn’t have a care in the world. Was I really that obvious? Or is he just that good at reading people? You are embarrassed but manage to make your facial expression look as placid as possible when Seonghwa returns to you.

               “Ready?” He asks as if the two of you hadn’t just been at each other’s throats a couple of minutes ago.

               After you nod, Seonghwa thrusts the tickets at the attendant who takes them in an over the top gesture and tacks on, “Have a good night!”

               Entering the minigolf course, you stop to grab one of the little putters. Seonghwa notices and drawls, “Really?”

               You hand it off to him. “Yes, really. You wanna blend in or look like the weird guy stalking across a golf course?”

               He takes it, holding it daintily with his long fingers while studying it. “You were right. About the ticket. I wasn’t thinking clearly.”

               You’re holding your own putter now, staring at him. “I know. I wouldn’t think clearly in your situation either.”

               Seonghwa looks at you for a long moment. You get the sense he wants to say more but he gives a small shake of his head, turning his attention back to the course. “Come on. We’ll just start at the first hole and wander around until you spot them.”

               The next ten minutes are spent navigating the busy course which includes a moment where Seonghwa ducks to avoid a little kid swinging the putter and another where you almost lose your footing and awkwardly trip off a tiny fake bridge. There are a few questioning glances shot in your direction as the two of you bypass playing completely while you try to spot Yeosang.

               Finally, near the gigantic wizard hat, you spot him along with who you assume is Mingi and Jongho. Yeosang, in baggy jeans and an oversized green hoodie, looks to be talking very animatedly with a tall man who is wildly gesturing. The other man is watching them with an amused expression on his face as if it is a very funny TV show.

               “There they are.” You nudge Seonghwa to get his attention. “Are you doing the talking or am I?”

               “You start and I’ll follow. Yeosang is familiar with you and doesn’t know me.”

               “Alright, let’s go.”

               You cut across a particularly ugly ice cream cone that is the centre of hole number ten and call out Yeosang’s name. He looks up in surprise but waves when he sees you.

               “Wassup? Didn’t know you like minigolfing,” He says as you and Seonghwa stop in front of the group. “Mingi and I were just having a disagreement about how many hits he took to get the ball in the hole.”

               The tall man, who is dressed entirely in acid wash denim, protests. “It was four strokes. You’re saying five and that’s not true.”

               The other guy, who must be Jongho, goes, “Can we please move on? I want to get an Icee.”

               “In this temperature?” Mingi asks, momentarily distracted.

               Jongho tugs on his long sleeve, wearing a plaid dress shirt with all the buttons undone, a black t-shirt underneath, topped off with a simple pair of jeans. “It isn’t that cold in this.”

               Seonghwa, who is already radiating an intense energy that will be overflowing at any second, swiftly interrupts, “Sorry, but I was talking to San and he said you had the Scream tape?”

               Yeosang nods. “Yeah, it’s in my bag. Oh! You must be the coworker he is borrowing it from?”

               “That’s right. I just need to see it for a second please.”

               “Sure,” He turns around, scooping his bag off the ground which it had been unceremoniously dumped on and pulls out the tape, handing it to Seonghwa. “There you go.”

               “Thanks so much,” Seonghwa replies calmly.

               He immediately pries his fingers into the slots and begins to unspool the tape, wildly tugging it out onto the ground. Everyone, including yourself, falls silent, watching as Seonghwa then drops the plastic shell onto the ground and begins to take the putter to it. His hair falls out of place as he beats the shit out of the VHS tape with the putter, the shell cracking from the sheer force at which he strikes it.

               “This dude is wacked,” Mingi mumbles.

               “I heard Scream was a good movie,” Jongho says, brows furrowed in confusion.

               “Guess we won’t find out now,” Yeosang replies dryly, “I suppose we’re watching Mystery Science Theater 3000 tonight.”

               Seonghwa exhales, his cheeks puffing out while doing so, tossing the putter to the ground while scooping up the remains of the VHS tape. He runs his fingers through his hair although it doesn’t fix it.

               “Thanks guys. Have a good night.” Seonghwa says as if he just didn’t go postal in the middle of the minigolf course.

               He glances at you before taking off back the way he came. You give an apologetic look at Yeosang, unsure what to say and settling on nothing. Following Seonghwa, who is still holding onto what little of the tape remained, with the cheery pop music playing over the sound of laughter and people talking, you aren’t sure if speaking right now would help him. Does he need comfort? Is he relieved? He showed no hesitation in destroying the tape immediately. Had that been his plan the entire night?

               Luckily for the attendant working the entrance, the exit loops around the other side of the course, taking you both into the parking lot before Seonghwa can start bickering with him again. He drops the pieces of the plastic casing into the nearest trash can although he is still holding the film, wrapping it carefully around his slender fingers.

               “Seonghwa,” You say tentatively and he stops, looking over at you.

               In the lights of the parking lot, Seonghwa is a slim figure with his black hair glowing. His breathing is slightly uneven, his features not nearly as collected as they’ve been all night. There is something raw wiggling underneath the surface of his composure, something you desperately want to touch.

               “I’ll take you back to your place now,” He says roughly, “Come on.”

               You don’t know what to reply with so you merely nod. A few minutes later, the car is pulling out of the parking lot and back onto the main road. You quietly tell Seonghwa how to get to your apartment from here. The tape is in his lap, the film nestled like a snake in between his thighs. You wonder what he will do with it. Set it on fire, maybe. He seems intent on destroying it completely. You understand why but still feel a pain of regret in your chest. There would be no viewing the rest of the tape now.

               You suddenly feel very tired. Between work and the entire events of the sex tape, you’re ready to crawl in bed and sleep in tomorrow. You lean back in the seat, staring idly out the window. The radio is playing music quietly and Seonghwa doesn’t say a word. You still get the sense he is wrangling himself in. Does he do that all the time? Why bother? Why shield yourself from people to the extent he does? You see his smile from the tape in your mind once again. To your surprise, you feel a spark of jealousy buried in your chest. His ex got to see the real Seonghwa while you’ve been seeing his façade. You want to know him like that. You want to touch him like that.

               The silent admission to yourself is unsettling. It’s been ages since you’ve wanted someone. Your attraction to Seonghwa earlier this week seems easier to digest when you thought your personalities wouldn’t be compatible. But his words outside the minigolf course were correct – those few minutes of him on your TV screen are making something deep inside you stir.

               The streetlights swim lazily across Seonghwa as he drives silently. They blend in with his white sweater before appearing on his tanned skin, small pools of light that travel over his body before eventually being lost behind the car.

               When he parks at your apartment complex, he goes, “I’ll walk you to your door.”

               This time, you don’t refuse. Back into the cold air, you stop at the outskirts of the pool near the staircase to the second floor.

               “Seonghwa,” You say again, your hand resting against the cold metal of the banister, “Now that you got the tape, and everything is sorted out, I really –”

               “Don’t,” He says swiftly, “You’re going to apologize again. It isn’t your fault. I already told you that.”

               “I know what you said,” You are two steps up on the staircase, looking slightly down at Seonghwa, whose hand is inches from yours on the banister, “But outside of the golf course…”

               “Was I too harsh?”

               “I just don’t understand why you’re pretending all the time,” You say after a beat of silence, “When I met you earlier this week, you were pleasant enough. But it’s obvious that isn’t what you’re really like. Just the few minutes of the tape showed that to me. And I’ve caught it once or twice before, at work, when you are obviously shoving your real self back down. Throughout tonight, I’ve seen glimpses of who you actually are – the quick lying, the flashes of irritation, your nerves at someone seeing the tape…I just don’t understand why you hide it everywhere but on a VHS tape.”

               There. You said what you’ve been thinking the whole night. Seonghwa’s face doesn’t change the entire time you speak. But you aren’t fooled by it anymore.

               Seonghwa places his feet on the first step of the staircase. He’s extremely close to you now; his body’s warmth seeps into your skin. You fight the urge to place your hands against his chest to pull on his sweater so that he will kiss you.

               You aren’t sure what his reply was going to be but you aren’t prepared for the way his voice drops to almost a murmur. “You’re really intrigued about the tape, aren’t you? I wonder what makes you so curious. It is the idea of letting the camera see all of you for who you truly are? Is it just the idea of fucking and recording it that you find so compelling? Maybe both.”

               You’ve gone still, frozen in surprise at the words leaving his mouth. He leans forward, his lips so close to your ear that your heart skips a beat. “Do you regret turning the tape off when you did? Your conscience prevailed; you did the morally right thing in a few minutes. Others would have watched the entire thing. But some part of you wishes it kept it running so you could watch me fuck my ex, listen to what we talked about. You know, I was so focused on getting rid of the tape, I don’t even know what one this one contains. We filmed so many,” He lingers on the last word as your brain fills up with mental images of tape after tape of Seonghwa, “What happened in the first few minutes of the tape?”

               Shakily, you manage to whisper, “You were on a beach. And then in a diner. Finally, a hotel room.”

               You don’t see Seonghwa smile but you can feel it, like an arrow in the dark, so fast that the sensation is gone in a second. “The vacation tape,” He pauses and continues, “I prefer being on film. Being seen. I feel comfortable and at ease. The camera misses nothing. The lens cuts through everything. All the noise and the bullshit. It isn’t about watching it back later. It isn’t about sharing it. I fill a tape, shove it in the collection. Destroy them when the relationship ends. Rinse and repeat. It’s about capturing that one moment and putting it on film. Everything when the camera isn’t on feels like bullshit. I feel like bullshit.”

               “Why?”

               Seonghwa shakes his head. “Dunno. Just always have. I only exist when the camera is on. Otherwise, I can’t be myself. Been that way forever. I’ll ask you again – did you regret turning the tape off?”

               It doesn’t even enter your mind to lie. “Yes.”

               “You wanted to watch me fuck my ex? Or did you want to be on that tape with me?”

               Your body is growing hot all over. You wish Seonghwa would touch you. His hand is so close to yours that you would settle for him just to brush his fingers against your skin.

               “Yes,” You whisper so quietly that if he weren’t so close to you, it would have been impossible to hear. You aren’t even sure what question you’re answering. Maybe it is both.

               But Seonghwa pulls away abruptly then. With his warmth gone, it feels like a hole has opened in your chest. He runs his fingers through his hair but you take note of the slightly uneven way he is breathing. You want to grab him, see him for who he really is with no pretenses, have the camera lens on his body while he –

               “I need to get home. I won’t be able to relax until I finish destroying the film,” His eyes trail along your body quickly and it feels deeply personal to have Seonghwa look at you in such a manner, “Goodnight.”

               You don’t want him to go. You want him to follow you to your apartment and fuck you silly. But he turns around and in a couple of seconds, he has rounded the corner, leaving you alone with your thoughts, your desires and the briefest glimmer of the man Seonghwa truly is.

Monday, October 13th, 1997

               “You gonna explain why Seonghwa opened up a can of whoop-ass on a VHS tape in the middle of a minigolf course on Saturday night or am I not privy to that information?”

               You stifle a groan, unable to duck and dodge San any longer. You had yesterday off, which didn’t end up being as fun as it sounded, due to the fact all you did was lay in bed running the events of Saturday night over and over in your head.

               And you still hadn’t come up with any sort of realistic story to tell San about the tape especially since Seonghwa had opted to destroy it with a minigolf putter.

               “It’s complicated,” You finally settle on.

               San’s eyebrows shoot upwards. “Complicated? Should I be concerned about your little work crush? Could he be a little…unwell?”

               “He’s not unwell,” You say defensively, “It’s just complicated. Can you just drop it, please? It was his tape, after all.”

               “Just makes no sense. You said the situation had to do with you. But why did Seonghwa go postal on the tape like that?”

               You’re starting to get a headache. You’ve had way too much coffee before coming into work and your nerves are frazzled between the idea of seeing Seonghwa and how much time you’ve spent analyzing his words to you Saturday night before he left. Yes you told him on the staircase, yes you wanted to watch the entire tape, yes you wanted to see him have sex with his ex and yes, you wanted to be on film with him. A jarring admission, one that you’re still grappling with.

               “San, my break ended a few minutes ago. Just please, for the sake of our friendship, I’m asking you to drop the entire thing.”

               He holds his hands up in a gesture of innocence. “Fine. Consider it dropped. However, it is not forgotten.”

               “I’ll take it, thanks,” You reply, heading quickly to the exit. “Listen, I’ll help you with inventory sometime this week, okay?”

               “You’re just sucking up to me.”

               “Yes, but you hate inventory,” You fire back over your shoulder.

               “I do so I’ll accept it!” He calls after you.

               Back in the store, you meander your way towards to the women’s clothing department. Part of you is desperate to run into Seonghwa while the other part is dreading it. What do you even say to him? Just a simple hello? How can you look him in the face knowing his entire personality is carefully curated bullshit to hide who he really is? How can you talk to him after what he said to you last night? How can you hold a conversation when you are so desperate to have him?

               You end up avoiding the shortcut through the men’s clothing section. Even so, your eyes carefully scan the area for any sight of him among the racks of ugly dresses and t-shirts. Once you’re safely in the dressing rooms, reorganizing and cleaning out the mess people leave behind, you relax slightly.

               You wanted to watch me fuck my ex? Or did you want to be on that tape with me?

               Seonghwa’s words bang around in your brain no matter how much you try to push them away. Even as you go through the motions of work, your mind lingers on how warm his body was so close to yours on the stairs, the low timber of his voice in your ear, and how he saw through you and all your pretenses.

               In fact, you’re so swept up in work and your thoughts, that you don’t realize Seonghwa is in the dressing room area until he says your name. Flinching in surprise, you look over your shoulder.

               He stands there in his blue work vest, his arms so full of clothes that it looks like they could spill onto the floor at any second. Seonghwa’s face is beautifully impassive. You get the sense he has also been avoiding you.

               “Wanted to drop off all the women’s clothes that ended up in the men’s dressing rooms before my shift ends,” He explains in a clipped tone.

               “Right. Thanks.” You move closer, trying to take the clothes from him.

               But there is simply too much and a good portion falls onto the floor. Your hands brush against his in the mess of fabric, sending your heart racing so quickly that it almost makes your chest hurt. Seonghwa is staring at you through his long lashes although his eyes dart away when yours meet his.

               You manage to wrangle a good chunk of the clothes away, tossing it onto the small table at the end of the hallway that you use to organize them. “You can just dump the rest here.”

               Seonghwa does so and then an awkward silence settles across the empty dressing rooms. The store closes in ten minutes. You didn’t think you’d be seeing Seonghwa at all today. We filmed so many he had whispered, teasing you with the mental images of whatever lurked on those tapes.

               “Do you want any help?” He offers.

               “I got it, thanks,” You say quickly, knowing the longer he stands next to you, the higher chance there is at the conversation going sideways.

               His fingers are touching one of the t-shirts, his expression unfocused. “I wanted to apologize.”

               You hesitate and then go, “For what?”

               “I was pretty…intense Saturday night. I also talked to you out of line at the end there,” He swallows, staring at the pile of clothes as if they were a fascinating creature, “I shouldn’t have done that. I’m sorry.”

               You feel stuck. It would be simpler to accept the apology and put the entire thing in the past. But a much larger part of you has shifted since discovering what Seonghwa is really like, brought to life by his words and the images on the tape, growing louder every passing moment. It is difficult to ignore these new feelings inside your chest.

               “It’s all good. It was a stressful situation. I think it would make anyone start trippin although San is asking questions and I have nothing to tell him. It is a little harder to come up with a story when you…beat the shit out of the tape in front of everyone.”

               “Yeah,” He looks at you sheepishly. “I lost my cool for a sec.”

               “Cracked your pleasant exterior there,” You joke quietly.

               His lips twist up into a smile for a brief second. You’re feeling hot all over, knowing it would be far easier just to let the conversation stop here. Easier to return to the way things were before the tape. Let Seonghwa be a work crush and nothing else.

               “But, uhm,” You pick up a shirt, carefully folding it so that you don’t have to look at him, “I didn’t mind how you talked to me. At the end of the night.”

               Seonghwa’s breathing changes slightly, something you wouldn’t have noticed a few days ago. But it is as if viewing the tape, learning about who he is and spending Saturday night with him has synced you up to Seonghwa in a new way.

               “Is that right?” He finally replies, his voice even and without emotion.

               “Yeah, I’ve been…thinking about what you said,” Your voice trembles slightly, betraying your nerves.

               Seonghwa moves ever so slightly closer to you. Relief swoops through your body at his close proximity. “What about it?” He murmurs.

               You take in a small breath and go, “I was thinking about asking you to come over. Tomorrow night.”

               He hesitates for a small second. “To your place?”

               “Yeah. I mean. If you’d want.” You are a mixture of anxiety and desire.

               But you push through it to look at Seonghwa’s face. You recognize the expression this time – he is teying to maintain his calm exterior, aware that he is at work and in a public setting.

                “Should I bring anything?” He asks in a forced nonchalant voice.

               Your grip tightens on the shirt. After spending all day trying to dodge Seonghwa, you can’t believe how you’re cracking after a couple of minutes around him. But perhaps avoiding him was your own way of denying what you wanted.

               “Maybe your camera,” You say with forced casualness.

               But the words seem to crack Seonghwa. He moves closer to you, just as close as the time on the staircase. In a strangled voice, he goes, “You’re not making fun of me, are you?”

               Surprised, you exclaim, “What? No, not at all.”

               His hand reaches out for you but then thinks better of it. Falling back to his side, he flexes his fingers. His voice drops to a whisper. “I work a closing tomorrow but I’ll come over afterwards.”

               You’re done work at five tomorrow which gives you plenty of time to get ready for…whatever you’re getting into. Seonghwa’s gaze is heavy, his energy buzzing. You want to push him, crack him open fully so that you can experience what he is like without any barriers…and maybe you want the same thing for yourself too. You want to know what it would be like being stripped away of all things you carefully hide behind without even realizing it. You just didn’t know that such a thing was so desired until you saw Seonghwa on that tape.

               You nod, wanting to say more but nerves getting the best of you. He pulls away, trying to control his breathing. There is a slight flush of colour creeping up his neck. You get a vivid mental image of being on top of him, your hands against his chest, taking him fully inside you –

               Quickly, you look away, afraid your thoughts might be all over your face. Seonghwa wishes you a goodnight, leaving the dressing rooms quickly before the energy crackles and explodes, spilling out into work.

               He works so hard to keep everything separate, after all.

Tuesday, October 14th, 1997

               You’re looking out the window of the living room, staring at the unremarkable view. The neon of the Taco Bell sign washes over the street, bathing the cars in the bright colour for a second or two as they drive by. You can just make out the interior, a swirl of pink, blue and purple, like a little lighthouse in the night.

               You don’t think you’ve never felt so nervous staring at Taco Bell before.

               It’s past ten which means Seonghwa will be here in about twenty minutes. Having invited him on a whim, driven by a combination of lust and curiosity, you’re now dealing with the reality of what you suggested. In asking him to bring his camera, you’ve basically admitted to him and yourself that you want to see what filming together would be like. And while you’re aware that you can change your mind and tell him to forget it once he arrives, the truth of the matter is that you don’t want to do such a thing.

               Your attraction to Seonghwa has only been heightened since seeing the tape, and your own sexual exploration seemed to be spilling out of you with a mighty need. As nervous as you feel, you also have no interest in denying it any longer.

               You aren’t sure how long you stare out the window, spacing out, but a soft knock at the door startles your thoughts away. Exhaling slowly, you cross the small living room, opening the front door to see Seonghwa standing there.

               He’s wearing a very colourful button up tucked into a pair of blue jeans. A bag is slung over his shoulder and his hair is a little messy from the chilly wind. Your heart skips a beat violently at the sight of him.

               “Hey. Oh, uh, come in,” You say awkwardly, moving to the side as Seonghwa walks past, “How was work?”

               “Fine, the usual. You know how it is. I like your place.”

               You blink. “Really? I don’t think it’s anything exciting.”

               He glances over his shoulder. “Well, I didn’t say it was exciting. I just like how comfortable it looks.”

               “Thanks. How are you doing with unpacking your own place?”

               Seonghwa places the bag on the coffee table while replying, “Besides the mishap with the tape, it has been uneventful.”

               He speaks of the tape so candidly now although given the circumstances, why wouldn’t he?

               “Did you and your ex live together long?” It no longer felt awkward to mention his last relationship – so much is different now with Seonghwa.

               “We did although that seemed to be our undoing. Only lasted a few months after we moved in together,” He replies while turning to face you. “For the sake of honesty, I haven’t been with anyone else since my relationship ended. Does that bother you?”

               “No because I haven’t either. I find those things…distracting. I just was focusing on work and other things in my life.”

               “Am I a distraction?”

               “What?”

               He repeats himself.

               Your cheeks grow warm. “I mean – technically, yes.”

               Seonghwa is fighting off a smile. You can tell by the way he tilts his face away from your direction to look at your TV.

               “Do you want anything to drink?” You offer.

               “Just some water is fine, thanks.”

               “Alright. Uh, please sit down. Don’t feel like you need to stand there.”

               You scamper out of the living room, wishing your nerves would settle. Now that he is here, you feel scattered. Your attraction to him has grown tenfold in the last few days and you can’t remember the last time you’ve wanted someone this much.

               Returning with a couple of glasses of water, you sit down next to Seonghwa on the couch. Desperate to fill the silence, you turn on the TV, immediately blasted with a Surge ad.

               “Listen,” Seonghwa says after a few minutes, “We don’t have to do anything tonight. I don’t want you to think I went into anything with expectations.”

               Hurriedly, you reply, “I know that.”

               “I understand you’re curious because the concept is new to you. But that doesn’t mean you’re going to be into it.”

               You turn to face him, your fingers wrapped around your glass of water. Seonghwa tilts his head in your direction.

               “I am curious,” You say quickly, “And I don’t really understand why. I’ve never thought about something like that until I saw those few minutes of the tape. And I…” You swallow, feeling shy. “Well, I only think about it with you. I was attracted to you right away but…you seemed so…nice. As if there wasn’t a lot going on underneath the surface. So, I assumed the attraction would never deepen. But after I saw the tape…I felt like I saw you.”

               “And?” He prompts.

               “And I was intrigued. At you. At the idea of filming stuff like that. The idea of a camera around, catching all these private moments. I started realizing how much you pull yourself under control, how you’re wearing a mask all the time.”

               “Everyone wears a mask in public. Most people just don’t realize it.”

               “You think I’m realizing it now then?”

               “Maybe. I don’t want to speak over your feelings or pretend I know what you’re thinking of. But yes, you’re right about me. I struggle with being vulnerable, being myself. I always switch into this false personality. I don’t even mean to do it.”

               “But you don’t do it while recording.”

               “That’s right. Something about seeing that little red light on switches it off.”

               “And what about…” Your shyness deepens.

               “Filming myself having sex?” After you nod, Seonghwa goes, “It just turns me on. Makes sex better. Makes me more relaxed. In that moment of filming, I feel free. Capturing those moments of pleasure…it feels crucial to my enjoyment.”

               “Has everyone you’ve been dating into it too?”

               “After I realized how much I like it, yeah. When the relationship ends, I destroy all the tapes. Just out of respect. Recording it isn’t really about watching it back anyway. It’s just about that moment of filming the intimacy of it.”

               You fall silent, battling more questions and your ever growing desire for Seonghwa. He turns his attention back to the TV, although you get the feeling he really isn’t engrossed in the episode of NYPD Blue playing. Your eyes land on the large bag he brought.

               Could you record yourself sleeping with Seonghwa? Knowing that moment would be captured on a tape with him? It’s all you have been thinking about since discovering Seonghwa’s secret. But now that you can make it a reality, your nerves are still battling for dominance.

               “Could I see it?” You ask suddenly, “The camera, I mean.”

               “Sure,” He replies, leaning forward and pulling the bag towards him.

               Unzipping the bag, he pulls out a large and chunky camcorder, resting it in his lap. He runs his fingers along the side where the spot for the tape opens while saying, “I was reading that they’re making these new cameras that are apparently a lot smaller and would be digital, if you could imagine such a thing. Would make filming a lot easier than this heavy thing.”

               “So you don’t…hold it during…”

               He laughs. “No. I just plop it down on a table or something during sex. But if the digital cameras end up truly becoming a thing, I suppose I could hold it during sex. Or you could,” He immediately realizes what he casually said and looks embarrassed. “Not that I meant – I don’t mean to assume that we would sleep together. Or you would be comfortable filming anything.”

               You reach for the camera, grabbing it out of his lap and into your own, studying it. It isn’t as though it’s your first time holding such a thing but it has been a while. “How do you start recording?”

               “You insert the tape and then press this button,” He leans closer, showing you where it is located.

               You study his face, eyes lingering on his lips. “Where’s the tape?”

               Seonghwa meets your gaze for a beat before moving away to retrieve it from the bag. He presses a button, the side popping out so he can insert the VHS tape. Snapping it shut, he says, “Then you can hit record. Each tape can roughly film for two hours.”

               You hesitate for a moment before reaching for the camera. Your fingers touch his, an electric vibration that sparks along your skin. You can hear Seonghwa’s breath catch slightly but he relinquishes the camera. You look into the camera’s viewfinder while popping the cover off the lens.

               You know what you want – Seonghwa and the exploration the recording will bring. Even though it is something you’ve never thought of until that moment you saw Seonghwa on your TV, with his beautiful smile, toned chest and low voice talking dirty, it seems to have awakened something deep inside you. Something that won’t rest, won’t stop, until you explore your desires.

               You press down on the record button, making sure Seonghwa is in frame. You know he can see the red light, aware that you’re recording.

               “Tell me about the first time you filmed yourself having sex,” You ask bluntly.

               Seonghwa raises an eyebrow although the chuckle he emits makes it clear he isn’t offended. “You interviewing me now?”

               “A little.”

               “It actually wasn’t my idea, if you can believe it. My girlfriend at the time brought it up to me one night after she noticed how much I liked recording home movies.”

               “Did she notice how comfortable you seemed on camera?”

               “Yeah, she did. It felt like a natural progression to me like oh, why hadn’t I thought of it? I was always trying to get in front of the camera ever since I can remember. But she was the first one to suggest taking it that far.”

               “Were you nervous?”

               “No.” Seonghwa looks relaxed now. The tension you hadn’t even realized he carried has now softened, his shoulders are lowered while he leans against the couch, still facing you. His hair grazes against his cheek from the angle. You catch yourself admiring his face, the slope of his nose, how his fingers rest in his lap. “No, I felt comfortable right away. What about you?”

               “What about me?”

               “You ever think about filming yourself having sex before?”

               “No, absolutely not.”

               “Not until my tape.”

               “That’s right.”

               “You like filming me?” He asks and after you nod, he goes, “This time, you don’t have to shut it off before it gets to the good part.”

               “A little cocky now, don’t you think?”

               He gives a casual shrug. This is the Seonghwa you saw on the TV – relaxed, confident, letting each emotion come easily without judgement. This is the Seonghwa you’ve wanted.

                You lean back against the couch, the camera still recording in your lap while motioning to the front of the TV. “Why don’t you show me how comfortable you are in front of the camera?” You can hardly believe the words after you say them. I guess it isn’t just Seonghwa who shows new sides of himself to the camera.

               But Seonghwa only grins at your request, getting up and standing in front of the TV. He pulls the colourful shirt from the confines of his jeans, his fingers swiftly undoing the buttons to expose a thin white tank top underneath. Your heart rate is already accelerating at the sight of the fabric resting against his taunt stomach.

               “Is this what you wanted?” He teases and your thighs clench at the fact you’re hearing that tone of voice being used on you now.

               “Don’t be coy.”

               Another grin. Yes, Seonghwa is correct – that little red light on from the camera changes him entirely. He shrugs out of the shirt, exposing his shoulders before it falls to the floor. Wearing just the tank top now, he hooks his thumbs into the front of his jeans, staring at you with an expression that looks almost devious.

               “What?” You say defensively.

               His grin widens. “Nothing. You’re just obvious.”

               “What does that mean?”

               “Come here and I’ll show you.”

               You stand up, holding the heavy camera while ambling towards him. He reaches for the camera, taking it out of your hands and placing it on the top of the TV stand, giving the lens a view of your faces down to just under your shoulders.

               After he finishes positioning the camera, Seonghwa turns his attention back to you. He is as close to your body as he was the other night on the stairs. Your breathing is uneven, aware of the camera on you, aware of everything you’ve been secretly thinking about is going to come to fruition.

               “See?” He murmurs.

               “What?”

               Seonghwa smirks while running one finger down along your arm and your body shivers in response. “That. How much you want me.”

               “Well, some of us aren’t experts at hiding ourselves all the time,” You counter.

               His lips hover just above yours, hands coming up to cup your cheeks. Your body is screaming for Seonghwa, your brain buzzing with need, lips parted in anticipation.

               There is no witty retort from him. Instead, Seonghwa kisses you. Softly at first, enough to shake the centre of you. His lips against yours makes you feel slightly delirious as if not realizing you were dying of thirst. The camera’s gaze remains steady on both of you while the kiss continues. His tongue slips past your lips, exploring your mouth so tenderly that your hands hold onto the band of his jeans to steady yourself.

               Your whimper is muffled against the kiss, face warm, body responsive to this man you’ve only known for a week – and only truly known for a few days. Seonghwa’s hands are in your hair as yours circle around his small waist, pressing him against your body. He is stiff in his jeans but still his hands travel downward until they rest on your ass, squeezing it. The kiss continues, growing deeper, hungrier, breaking briefly so you can pull off his tank top.

               You are pressing your hands against his hard stomach, running up along his chest until curling them around his shoulders, breathless at the sight of him. His skin is warm, inviting, and the sight of him in just his jeans is incredibly sexy.

               Seonghwa brings his face to your neck, kissing along there while his grip on your ass tightens. Your eyes flutter closed for a second. The barriers of your clothing are becoming an annoyance now. You want more of him, you want all of him.

               When you open your eyes, they land on the camera. A silent observer, missing nothing, no judgement to be found.

               “Seonghwa,” You whisper and he stops, pulling away just enough to look at you. His eyes are hazy with lust, lips parted prettily. “Come with me to my room,” You pause for a second before adding, “And bring the camera.”

*

               In your room, the camera is once again propped onto the top of the TV which gives it the perfect angle of the bed. When originally purchasing the second TV at a yard sale, a friend had questioned needing another one. Now, you’re grateful for it – where else would the camera filming the two of you go?

 You are still fully dressed, something Seonghwa looks to rectify from the way he gently nudges you into view of the camera while he stands behind you.

               His hands are on your waist, skittering upwards until your shirt is pulled off, tossed onto the nearby dresser. In just your bra and sweatpants now, acutely aware of the camera, your breathing grows uneven. Seonghwa’s hands continue to travel, now onto your bra, squeezing your breasts together. He is kissing along your neck once again, his lips a soft whisper along your skin.

               He tugs down on the bra, exposing your tits not only to his hands but to the camera as well. The entire thing feels more intimate than any other sexual encounter you’ve had before; the camera adds to the feeling as strange as it sounds in your head.

               Seonghwa’s hands are warm. He cups your breasts, thumbs brushing across your nipples. You’re soaking wet, overwhelmed by the desire you’re experiencing for him. He rolls your nipples in between his fingers, pinching them a little, allowing the camera to take in the sight of him groping you like this.

               You tilt your face in his direction and his lips find yours once again. You like how Seonghwa tastes in your mouth – it is familiar, almost as if you’ve kissed him before, kissed him a thousand times. When he pulls away, the look in his eyes is heavy, laced with lust and stripped away from any pretenses he usually carried so close to him.

               You brush his hands away from your body, instead grabbing him by the waist band of his jeans, moving him closer to the camera on the top of the TV. Unbuttoning his jeans, you rub him through the denim, taking note of the way his breathing catches.

               You lean towards the camera, moving it to the shelf underneath the TV, giving the lens a perfect view of you on your knees in front of Seonghwa. You look up at him, unzipping his pants and pulling them down until his boxers are exposed.

               The camera can’t catch his facial expression but you can see it – the way he looks at you with his plump lips slightly parted, his eyes dancing across your hands down to your breasts. It isn’t just giving yourself over to him, it’s giving yourself over to the camera too.

               Your hands rub against the bulge in his boxers, feeling the warmth through the fabric. Your hands dip into the band of his boxers, pulling it down until his cock springs free. Gently wrapping your hand around him, you bring your tongue across the head, sweeping across it once, twice, three times. Seonghwa exhales slowly while you begin to pump his cock, looking up at him. The camera’s gaze is steady on the two of you, the moment you take his length into your mouth captured on film.

               Your tongue presses against the tip of his cock for a few seconds before taking more of him, filling your mouth with his length. Your other hand goes to his balls, fondling them while your tongue presses along the underside of his shaft.

               Spurned on by the soft noises of pleasure that escape Seonghwa, you begin to bob on his cock. Sometimes, he pops out of your mouth, the tip of him a sticky sweet mess of your salvia and his precum. It glistens in the low lights before you take him once again, as much as you can. You enjoy the way he fills your mouth, stretches out your lips with his thickness.

               Seonghwa’s eyes close, his head rolling back as a guttural groan topples from in between his pink lips before he curses sharply and pulls away. His cock slides out, precum smearing against your cheek.

               With a small shake of his head, he goes, “I don’t wanna finish. I want to feel you wrapped around me.”

               Seonghwa helps you up, scooping the camera off the shelf and back onto the top of the TV. This time he puts more care into the angle, asking you to sit on the bed while he looks through the viewfinder until he looks pleased with it.

               “Look at you, big shot director,” You tease at one point.

               He raises his eye from the viewfinder. “Hey, it’s your debut,” Seonghwa says gravely but the twinkle in his eyes makes it evident he’s joking. “Lay sideways on the bed for me, will you?”

               “Yes, sir,” You are still poking at him.

               When he seems satisfied, Seonghwa circles back to the bed. He crawls up along your body, stopping to remove your sweatpants and underwear. You’re completely naked with him on camera now while his lips travel across your stomach, stopping at your breasts. His tongue flicks over your nipples and he gently bites down on one, tugging on it with his teeth just to hear you gasp.

               Seonghwa is skin to skin with you, not an inch in between your bodies as he finally kisses your lips. Your legs curl around his waist urgently, tugging on his bottom lip with your teeth until he groans in response.

               It is simple to enter your pussy, having been wet for Seonghwa since he stepped foot inside your apartment. His length fills you swiftly until his hips touches yours. The next kiss is messy, a mixture of muffled moans and whimpers as Seonghwa goes still, allowing you to get used to the sensation of being filled with his cock.

               His hands snake up along your arms, gently pinning your hands above your head, just at the edge of the mattress. Almost lazily, Seonghwa rocks his hips. The motion is small, just enough to send shocks of warmth and pleasure through your body. You groan out his name in a plea for him to move faster but he doesn’t obey.

               “Sorry, my boo, but I’ve been thinking about this all week and I want to take my time,” Seonghwa declares, your hands entwined together, “I saw the way you looked at me when we first met, saw the disinterest flicker across your face when I drove you home the first time.” He moves his hips, pulling almost completely out of your hole. “And I went home that night and thought about inviting you over, teasing your body until you crumbled and begged for me.” He thrusts now, all the way back inside, until your hips meet once more and you gasp, your fingers curling around his for something to hold onto.

               You can recall the memory, the way you mused that Seonghwa was too pleasant, too kind in that sort of neutral, placid way that meant even though he was beautiful, he faded to the background of your memory. But there is your side of things too…

               “Your veneer isn’t perfect,” You counter with a small gasp when he rocks his hips again, “Maybe to others but not to me.”

               “Is that right?” He growls.

               Breathlessly, you explain, “I got the feeling multiple times you were holding back, hiding parts of yourself. You were so restrained all the time.” You remember the moment in the breakroom where he flattened his hand against his knee, wrangling himself under control. “But sometimes, I would see pieces. It made me want to crack those parts open, see you.”

               Seonghwa is moving your legs now, sliding his arms under them so that they fold closer to your chest. He is still as near to you as he can get physically. But the angle change is intense and you grab the edge of the bed, gasping as he begins to pump his cock deeper into your cunt.

               “And now?” He prompts but you can’t focus on the conversation anymore, not when his cock feels this good and he’s finally fucking you at a pace that only heightens the desire and pleasure. After your garbled moan, Seonghwa goes, “I’ll take that as your answer.”

               Your eyes flutter open, the red light from the camera like a spotlight. This moment - captured either forever or until Seonghwa and you were to break apart. Tiny parts of yourself, combined with Seonghwa, in this intimate moment for the camera lens.

               Your thighs shake, your pussy tightening around Seonghwa’s cock as your orgasm approaches. He keeps up the steady pace, the bed shaking with every thrust, your legs bouncing with each jerk of his hips. Your knuckles are white from clutching the edge of the bed, your bedsheets tangled around your fingers as Seonghwa pistons his cock into your wet cunt.

               And then your orgasm begins, Seonghwa’s name a shattered piece of glass on the tip of your tongue as your hips meet his. The pleasure blots out everything; it is so exquisite that you lose yourself entirely to him.

               Seonghwa pulls out, allowing you to stretch out your legs. “I want to fuck you from behind,” He says, his hands on your thighs, “Will you let me?”

               You know that means facing the camera, allowing it to capture every expression on your face. You nod and Seonghwa helps you get into position on all fours, your ass in the air and hands pressed against the bed. He runs his hands over your ass before tugging you down a little, towards his cock.

               “Seonghwa,” You say, looking over your shoulder at him. His hair is messy, his breathing rough, but all his protections over his personality are gone. He looks sexy, inviting, warm, all yours. “I want you to finish in me.”

               He stops for a moment, glancing up at you before nodding. You turn back to the camera while he enters you once again. You gasp loudly – he feels much different from this angle and your eyes almost roll back into your head from how amazing it is. Seonghwa doesn’t stop this time. He immediately begins to pump and you curse roughly as his hips smack against yours.

               One hand reaches for your hair, pulling it on it in a sharp tug, keeping your head up so that the camera captures your ever changing facial expressions. You like that it’s being filmed, both you and Seonghwa’s faces being recorded as you chase the pleasure your bodies can give.

               He grunts out your name as he fucks you, releasing his hold on your hair so that he can grip your waist. Your hands shake and you finally relent, lowering your front half onto the bed. This allows him to fuck your cunt even deeper. You’re cursing loudly, begging him to keep going because you’re going to cum again. He doesn’t stop and you’re sure that the camera is going to show a thin layer of sweat across his forehead from how quickly Seonghwa’s hips snap into yours, his balls smacking against your ass, your wet pussy taking him easily.

               Your hands grip the bed sheets, face down in the bed now, trying to muffle how much noise you’re making because of the neighbors. Seonghwa is grunting, panting, his fingers digging into your soft flesh as his cock pounds into your sopping wet hole.

               Your orgasm starts suddenly, without any warning, and your back arches. You bring your ass backwards, trying to meet his erratic thrusts. At the same time, Seonghwa groans out your name and it sounds like gravel against the bottom of a shoe. He begins to spill inside of your cunt. Together, you both cum, in full view of the camera. His warmth overflows and when he pulls out, you can feel him dripping out of your cunt.

               Legs like jelly, you fall against the bed, completely exhausted. But Seonghwa slides off, reaching for the camera and bringing it onto the bed. He plops it briefly onto the sheets while his hands go to your hips, rolling you onto your back.

               “What?” You mumble, slightly dazed.

               “I want to see your cunt filled with my load,” He explains, bringing the camera close, peering through the viewfinder.

               His other hand gently spreads your lips apart, showing his cum leaking out from in between your folds. It’s lurid, completely pornographic, and you find it thrilling.

               “You’re a perv,” You tease him.

               His finger dips into your cunt, scooping up some of his cum. His hand trails up along your body, along with the camera lens, and when his finger is against your lips, you open, sucking his cum clean off.

               “And what are you then?” He says.

               “Your new girlfriend,” You reply boldly.

               Seonghwa pulls away from the viewfinder, his eyes meeting yours. In the now quiet room, the only noise is of his soft breathing mingling with yours. The past is wiped clean, replaced with the new tape, the collision of two people caught on camera, entwining together both physically and mentally.

               “That sounds perfect to me,” is what he finally says and you can read in between the lines – you aren’t just privy to Seonghwa’s true self through a camera lens anymore. You get access to him all the time.

               You smile up at him, fucked out completely and never been more content.

               Seonghwa returns the look, his finger hovering over the button to stop recording.

               “What do you want to do now?” He asks.

               You think for a moment before going, “We should –”

               And his finger presses the button, ending the tape.

the end.