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#because i have to watch the traffic so closely
hermitcraftx · 14 days
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The problem with a lot of traffic life interpretations in my opinion is they don't understand character foils or don't employ them in their writing. Grian-Martyn and Scar-Ren are genuinely pretty good character foils for a series that is not really scripted or planned out like a book is. I could go on and on about how they parallel each other and the similarities between them. Even the smaller details between the four usually match up
leaving the rant in the tags so I don't have a huge block of text again ueueue
#jamies bad posts#like a simple example grian is an “unwilling” (though we all know thats bs) bodyguard/protector of scar#while martyn is a willing protector of ren#but i was just watching rendogs first episode and he says that his plan is to first go around attempting to trade with everyone#and it just. it STRIKES me how similar scar and ren are#they both have tempers when called for they both go around playing a friend to all and trying to trade#fuck it in the first few minutes of rens episode hes chasing rabbits around the desert#like ren and scar are two sides of the same coin in the context of third life#thats what makes the dogwarts/monopoly mountain arc so INTERESTING#because they both have goals good and bad and when you watch the others povs each side looks so... intimidating. so different#its only when you get really up close you realize theyre the same type of person#like martyn and grian idk just watching them interact is fun. its really fun#the way martyn gave grian a diamond sword in third life to protect him versus grian doing that w etho secret life#i can mostly think of just the little details but like. come ON#GO WATCH THEIR VIDEOS. ITS SO UNCANNY.#ren and scar genuinely drive me insaneee it drives me insaneee#ok like rendog makes a business out of enchanting and do you know what scar goes insane every season afterwards trying to get#the FUCKING enchanting table#if u like watcher lore u also get the yummy fact that grian and martyn were BOTH on evo#like....#the watcher/listener parallels. idk#third life#3rd life#trafficblr#traffic smp#life series#grian#gtws#goodtimeswithscar#gtwscar
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checkxmaster · 2 months
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{out of code} Friendly reminder that yelling at Kaplan to hurry up, telling him he's doing something wrong or not well enough, pressing him to complete a task, or reminding him of the urgency of a situation... will not make him work faster, better, or get the job done more efficiently. Quite the opposite. It will actually make him slower, less proficient, more mistake-prone, more insecure, and more anxious. Just leave him alone, let him breathe, let him work. Treat him as though he's got an instruction label that reads: "For best results, leave alone and trust the process."
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ocdhuacheng · 1 year
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Acab obviously but I’m literally such a cop when it comes to certain traffic violations like I’m always coming on here afterwards to complain like
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pseudowho · 14 days
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"...alright. Just the usual ones? Night time too...and tampons. Don't ever apologise. Alright. We'll be home soon. I love you."
The mid-morning traffic, less frantic now than an hour before, shhhaaaahed around the car. From the passenger seat, Yuuji watched Kento with a fascination about to bubble over with suppressed laughter. Kento put the phone down. Yuuji, just a boy, grinned, almost teasingly at Kento.
"Tampons, huh, Nanamin?"
Kento looked to Yuuji, flicking the windscreen wipers on to rid the screen of drifting cherry blossom. His face remained neutral, sincerely questioning. Yuuji scoffed, bold as brass, before continuing.
"Jeez Nanamin...you're such a simp."
Kento's eyes narrowed, searching for meaning. He repeated, slowly, the word unfamiliar upon his tongue.
"...'simp'."
"You'd do anything for her, right?"
"Is that...a bad thing? You say the word, not that I know it, as if it's derogatory."
Kento tapped on his phone, and Yuuji backpedaled, his grin sliding away to a wide-mouthed grimace as he waved his hands in a fit of no, wait, I can explain. Kento appeared to be reading, his face growing dour. He huffed, one short puff of air from his nose. He tucked his phone away.
"Ah-- Nanamin-- I didn't mean--"
"A simp, hmm? Alright. Come along, Yuuji."
They drove. Yuuji bit his nails as he stared out into traffic. Kento was silent, calm.
And Kento took Yuuji on errands.
At the Conbini, Kento collected pads, tampons, snacks and pain relief.
"Do you have any of the night time ones?" Kento asked the assistant, holding up a pack of pads, unashamed, as Yuuji tried to sink into the floor, just a boy. As the assistant walked away, Kento asked Yuuji, calmly.
"Would a simp do this?"
"Ah...jeez, I...yeah, I guess so."
"Alright."
In the Florist's, Kento was meticulous with the sweating assistant, identifying only the finest blooms of your favourite wildflowers. He commandeered, insisting they were wrapped in brown paper, stamped with wax and tied with ribbons. Tapping his fingers on the counter, bored, Yuuji's reverie was once more broken by Kento's smooth timbre.
"Would a simp do this?"
Kento walked up beside Yuuji, with a spray of sweet botanicals in his arms. Yuuji squirmed beneath the schooling.
"Yeah, I...I reckon so. Probably."
"Splendid. Come along."
At the launderette, collecting your repaired jacket; "Would a simp do this?"
At your parents' house, dropping off a birthday card; "Would a simp do this?"
At Jujutsu High, filing some late paperwork for you; "Would a simp do this?"
In the car, calling Ijichi to cancel drinks the following night; "Would a simp do this?"
By the time Kento had completed his errands, Yuuji sulked, just a boy, begrudging how overboard Kento had gone, all because Yuuji had used slang that meant nothing apart from something Kento couldn't understand.
Yuuji stood back in the hallway, shucking his shoes off, as Kento walked ahead.
Yuuji's eyes darted up, to you, shocked to see that you were...a mess. You could hide the tears all you liked, but your puffy lips and salt-sore cheeks told of a whole day of crying. The dinner Yuuji usually enjoyed wasn't made. The fragrant candles that Yuuji usually enjoyed weren't lit. The curtains were closed.
Yuuji felt vicariously guilty for something he had not done, but he listened to yours and Kento's mumbled conversation.
"...sorry...so shit...haven't done anything...needed you...Yuuji must be hungry, I..."
"...shhh...done nothing wrong...Ijichi cancelled tomorrow anyway...order take-out...come here..."
Kento held you in a rustle of bags and brown-papered flowers. He did not begrudge the tear stains on his lapels. He looked at you as though your very blood ran divine, when you gave the flowers and bag of snacks a watery smile, pressing a salty kiss to Kento's cheeks before walking to the kitchen.
As Kento and Yuuji stood back, watching you swipe your tears away before beginning to fill a vase with Kento's wildflowers, Yuuji dawned upon the cusp of a bold new understanding. Kento felt it, this gentle yearning, and took Yuuji by the hand over the horizon.
Kento's voice was, slow, considered, and gut-wrenchingly sincere.
"Never deny yourself the beauty of loving someone without restraint, for the fear of vulnerability, Yuuji. Never let anyone taint the way love should guide and consume you. Because if loving wholeheartedly is weakness...you shouldn't want to be strong."
Yuuji watched the gentle golden thread of joy that Kento had woven through your sadness. He shuffled, his hands in his pockets, his peachy head tilted down as he kicked at his shoes.
"...yeah, I get you. I'll... I'll be a simp too, then. When I find the one. And...and I'll be proud of it."
Kento smiled, pressing a bag of snacks to Yuuji's chest.
"And I'll be proud of you."
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foldingfittedsheets · 2 months
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When deciding who to work for there is a sliding scale of employers that goes from lil mom and pop shops up to corporate monoliths. I have worked at both ends of the spectrum and I can pretty definitively say that tiny businesses are hands down the most insane employers.
The sweet spot is a place that has like 10-20 stores; that’s the best possible work environment. They’ll be polished enough to have protocols that make work structured, but not so bogged down with bureaucracy that nothing can ever get done.
This story is not from that sweet spot. This story is from my time working at Oil and Vinegar. Now, like many little franchise stores, the idea was solid. There was on tap imported olive oil and vinegar and it was really delicious. Top shelf. Unfortunately, each location was like the Wild West because owners varied wildly.
My owner was the human embodiment of Mr. Krabbs. His eyes were just constant dollar signs. Throughout my training he informed me of the price of every single piece of equipment I touched and how much it cost to replace it.
He had cameras set up to watch us, and an app on his phone to access the live feed. He’d call us to ask what we were doing when he’d just checked a camera to make sure we were being honest.
Now, the trouble was he had two locations. His location further south did amazing. It was way more centrally located and got three times the foot traffic. The one I worked in was in the snottiest mall possible in Arizona and consequently the rent was through the roof.
It was not going well for my store. We didn’t get as much traffic, so there was only so much I could do in a day. I could dust, sweep, and wait for customers. I read a lot and was frank when he called to interrogate me. I always asked for additional tasks but he never had any. What could I do to prop up a failing business?
But this man was convinced there was some Secret Reason that the store I was in was doing worse. He crunched numbers, looked at staff, and eventually hit upon the most insane possible solution.
We used too much toilet paper.
We were probably stealing toilet paper! Bleeding him dry one single ply square at a time! How dare we need to use the bathroom?! His south location used half as much toilet paper as we did, we must be thieving little monsters!!!!
Friends. The south location was populated entirely by men. My location had three people on staff who had to sit to pee. It was so blindly transparently the source of the discrepancy but this man was convinced we were making off with toilet paper to bankrupt him.
So he implemented what he believed to be an entirely reasonable response to this base treachery. We were allowed to have one roll of toilet paper. At any given time, one roll was permitted to us. This was so transparently unhinged that we protested but he insisted. If we were low on toilet paper we needed to call him to drop off a roll that he brought from his home. Smiling jovially, he assured us he lived so close by that it would be no problem!
When we needed to call him often for more he started tearing his hair out. What were we using toilet paper for?! Why wasn’t his genius plan to stop our scandalous waste working??!
Finally, the manager, the only man on staff had to pull the owner aside and be like, “Look, man, their bladders are smaller. They need to wipe every time they pee. They need to pee even more on their period. Is this really the hill you want to die on?”
Yes. It was. The manager was fired unrelated reasons and denounced as a traitor. The toilet paper ration lasted until I quit and probably until the store closed six months later.
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artbyblastweave · 4 months
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So I don't really think that it's a secret that Boston has a significant Minotaur problem. It's a pretty common situation for older American cities on the East Coast- centuries of poorly-documented cowpath-style urban growth providing an ideal nesting ground, widespread electrification and plentiful steam tunnels that compensate for the loss of the temperate Mediterranean climate that they're used to. And all this on top of limited institutional knowledge of proper containment tactics at least up until the Greek diaspora started to really blow up in the 20th century. You only have to fuck up the safety checks on one cargo steamer coming in from the broad area of old Minoa and then basically any import controls you put in after that point are closing the barn door after the bulls are loose. So yeah, no secret, it's an issue.
I do think, though, that we've kind of let the specific narrative surrounding the issue get away from us in the usual fashion, the problem people picture when they hear "Minotaur" isn't anywhere close the to the problem as it exists on the ground. I mean people's minds immediately jump to the 1949 Boylston massacre, but let's be real, even though that was really politically useful for finally getting the exit fares on the T removed, that was still a black-swan event, right? Basically every mayor since, like, Hynes has lived in mortal terror of having to manage a repeat of something like that during the mass media era, let alone the smartphone era. So we've got these Theseus kill-teams with their titanium-composite ropes and souped-up cattle prods and bolt guns, we have these constant "track replacement" stoppages on the orange line, and it's fine. It's fine! There hasn't been a serious Minotaur thing within walking distance of a T stop since, like, 2006, which again you can mostly chalk up to the chaos surrounding the dig.
No, the actual danger zones, the silent killers are the exurbs, like West Roxbury, Roslindale, parts of Hyde Park. Relatively dense foliage, bad sightlines, far enough from the urban center that the response times are bad, foot traffic that's basically nonexistent for big parts of the workweek because everyone's either commuting or hunkered down working from home. And, of course, a steady stream of delivery drivers with no political ties to the area. Which is an important element, right? I mean it's kind of baked into the Minotaur's nature, that they have a very finely tuned instinctual awareness of the politics of their situation. Start snagging homeowners, there might be a ruckus. But Amazon does steady business everywhere, and Minotaurs are smart enough to cover their bases, to wait until after the drivers have dropped off your package or delivered your food. So yeah, watch yourself out there. One eye on the treeline at all times. And if you see an Amazon van left idling, get ready to run faster than the driver could.
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d1stalker · 1 month
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The Feeling's Mutual | Part One
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[Logan Howlett x Mutant!Reader]
Summary: If somebody told you a week ago that you were a mutant, being stalked, and would be teaming up with an annoying, grumbly bastard, you probably would have laughed in their face. Too bad that was last week, because here you are, in that very situation, wondering how in the world things escalated so quickly.
PART TWO PART THREE FINAL PART
Warnings: fem!reader, canon-level violence, reluctant alliance, bickering, not exactly enemies-to-lovers but they don't rly get along, it's gonna be a slow burn y'all WC: 5.7k - MASTERLIST - A/N: If you saw me post this earlier, no you didn't 🤫 i added more hehe
You’ve never been so confused in your entire life.
It all started last week—when you were walking to the grocery store. Just an ordinary day, nothing special about it. You had a list in your hand, some cash in your pocket, and thoughts of what to cook for dinner running through your mind. The route you took had you winding down the usual streets of your neighbourhood, and that’s when you noticed him.
Something about him was different, but you couldn’t quite place your finger on what it was that made you think that. Perhaps it was the way his eyes followed you, stalking you, like a predator its prey.
At first, you thought it might be a coincidence. Maybe he was just another person going about his day, heading in the same direction as you. People share paths all the time; there was no reason to suspect anything sinister, right? But as you continued walking, a nagging feeling in the pit of your stomach told you something was off. You decided to test it, making a sudden turn down a side street, one you usually never take.
The street was quieter, less foot traffic, and the late afternoon shadows were starting to stretch across the pavement. You glanced over your shoulder, and there he was, still a few steps behind, his gaze remaining locked onto you with a focus that sent a shiver down your spine. Quickening your pace, you felt an almost paralyzing fear.
This wasn’t just a shared route. 
The more you turned, the more you weaved through unfamiliar streets, the more persistent he became. He never faltered, never hesitated, always keeping just close enough to let you know he was there.
Finally, you reached the store, breathing in short, panicked gasps, your eyes flitting around. You ducked inside, hiding the fluorescent lights and bustling aisles. You tried to calm yourself, telling yourself it was nothing, that you were being paranoid. After all, what were the odds? Maybe he’d walk past, maybe he wasn’t even following you. You spent longer than usual picking up items you didn’t need, giving him time to disappear. 
But when you walked back outside, bags in hand, you saw him again. He wasn’t right at the door, but still, close enough—across the street, half-hidden in the shadow of another building, watching. His eyes locked with yours once more, and you froze, the plastic handles of the grocery bags digging into your palms as your grip tightened in fear. He didn’t move, didn’t smile or sneer, just stood there, silent.
You rushed home, not even bothering to see if he was tracking you down, too scared to find out the answer. Your mind was racing with a million thoughts. Who was he? What did he want? You didn’t sleep much that night, jumping at every creak and groan the apartment made, the image of that man’s cold stare burned into your mind.
The next day, you told yourself it was nothing, a one-time thing, just some creep who had too much time on his hands. A pervert, possibly. 
But happened again. A different man this time, but with the same unnerving intensity. He followed you the same way, mute and relentless, through the streets, to the store, and back home.
Then the day after that, and that, and that. They didn’t approach you directly, just followed, watched, waited. It was like a game, one that you didn’t know the rules to, and the stakes felt like they were getting higher and higher and more time passed. Whenever you stepped outside, you felt their eyes on you, felt their presence lurking just out of sight. It was terrifying.
The fear gnawed at you, growing with each passing day, until it became impossible to ignore. You started taking different routes, avoiding your usual stores, changing your routine as much as you could. Still, no matter what you did, they always found you.
Soon it changed—no longer just silent stalking. One night, as you were walking home, one of the men stepped out from the shadows and blocked your path. His presence was oppressive, the way he stood there, so still, so certain of his power over you. You had no idea what he wanted, but you knew it whatever it was, it wasn’t good.
“Why are you following me?” you demanded, trying to muster up all the courage you could, voice shaking slightly despite your attempt to sound strong.
“Because we were told to,” the man said, his voice cold and emotionless. There was no malice, no pleasure in his words, just a chilling matter-of-factness. “You’re coming with us.”
Panic surged through you, a primal instinct to run, to fight, to do anything but comply. You refused to show it, refused to give him the satisfaction of seeing your fear. 
“I’m not going anywhere with you,” you spat back, hoping your defiance would be enough to make him reconsider.
His eyes narrowed, a dangerous glint flashing in them, and before you could react, he lunged at you, his fist swinging with brutal intent. Time seemed to slow as you saw the blow coming, your mind racing, but your body moving almost on instinct. You raised your arms to defend yourself, bracing for the crushing impact that would follow.
You couldn’t explain what happened next. When his fist connected with your arm, the force that should have sent you to the ground, left you unscathed. Instead, it was the man who staggered back, a look of shock and pain twisting his features. He clutched his hand, wincing as if he had struck something far harder than just flesh and bone.
You stared at him, bewildered, before glancing down at your own arm in disbelief. There was no pain, no bruise, nothing to indicate that you’d just been hit. It was as if his attack had bounced off of you, like you were made of steel.
Had you really just blocked that hit? And why did it feel like… nothing?
Before you could process what had happened, before the realization could fully take root, another man appeared out of nowhere, moving with a speed that blurred the edges of his form. Mutant. He was faster than the first, more determined, and this time, you felt your heart stop as he came at you from behind, his hands outstretched to grab you.
But something in you reacted faster than your fear. You twisted out of his grip with lightning speed, with movements so fluid and precise, it was as if your body knew exactly what to do, even if your brain was struggling to keep up. You sidestepped his attack, narrowly avoiding his grasp, and found yourself behind him, safe for the moment.
“What the hell?” you muttered under your breath, your heart pounding in your chest. How did you move like that? How had you known where to go, how to dodge?
There was no time to dwell on it. The fight intensified in an instant, the two men coming at you one after another, relentless in their assault. They weren’t holding back, and suddenly neither were you. You moved like a force of nature, dodging their attacks, striking back when you could. Each punch you threw landed with a power that surprised even you. You watched in stunned disbelief as one of the men crumpled to the ground after a single blow, his eyes rolling back as if he’d been hit by a truck.
You are not a gym regular. In fact, you hadn’t worked out in weeks. You weren’t strong, not like this. So how was it possible that your punches were so devastating, that each one seemed to carry a weight far beyond what you’d ever imagined?
Then, with a flick of his wrist, the first mutant, conjured a ball of fire in his hand, the flames crackling and roaring, craving something to burn. He hurled it at you, the fireball spinning through the air with only one target in mind. 
You barely had time to scream as the flames engulfed your arm, the searing heat burning through your skin. The pain was unbearable, a white-hot agony that made you gasp and stumble back. You expected to see your skin blackened, blistered, ruined.
And it was.
For a minute. 
To your shock—or horror—you looked down, breath catching in your throat as you watched the burn heal right before your eyes. The charred skin knitted back together in seconds, smooth and unblemished, as if nothing had happened at all.
What the fuck? 
It was in that moment that the truth hit you, like a thunderclap in your mind. You weren’t just an ordinary person caught in a nightmare. You were a mutant, with powers that had only now revealed themselves, right when you needed them most.
The men kept coming, but now you fought with a new understanding. Each punch, each dodge, each rapid movement felt more controlled, more intentional, your gym class self-defence courses coming in clutch. You were strong, faster than you’d ever been, and you could heal—regenerate from injuries that would have left others incapacitated.
Finally, the two men laid groaning on the ground, defeated. You stood there, panting, your mind spinning as you tried to make sense of it all. Super strength, super speed, regeneration… these powers, they were yours. And they had just saved your life.
But as the adrenaline began to fade, confusion set in. What did these men want with you? Why had they gone to such lengths to provoke you? To make you discover what you were capable of? 
All you knew was that one thing was clear: this was far from over. Whoever had sent these men wouldn’t stop here. They knew what you were now, and that meant they’d come after you again. You weren’t just an ordinary person anymore. You were something else, something powerful. And that put a target on your back. 
Whatever was coming next, you needed to be ready.
----
That’s how you found yourself here, one week later, crouched on the apartment rooftop, the cold wind nipping at your exposed skin. The dark streets below are eerily silent, save for the distant hum of traffic. You sense them before you see them—another group of male mutants, closing in on your position. You grip the hilt of your knife tighter, feeling the now-familiar twinge of anger and frustration settle in your chest. This is the fifth group tonight. They’ve been hunting you in groups for days now, their numbers increasing as each one goes by, and you’re tired of it. 
You’ve started to get used to your new powers—testing your limits, pushing yourself harder with each confrontation. What started as simple self-defence, a punch here, a dodge there, has escalated into something far more lethal.
You didn’t want to kill, didn’t want to by use your sharpest kitchen knife (your only kitchen knife) as a weapon, but as the attacks became more violent, you found yourself with little to no choice. 
These mutants weren’t holding back, and neither could you.
Within a week, you went from the most average person in the world to what some people might call a vigilante—except you're really only trying to save your own skin.
Leaping off the roof, you land silently behind them. The speed at which you move is almost dizzying, your body a blur as you close the distance in the blink of an eye. 
“Looking for someone?” you call out sarcastically.
They turn, eyes widening in surprise, but you’re already moving. Your blade sings through the air, striking true, as you move like a shadow, taking them down one by one. It’s not easy—these guys are tough—but you’ve become tougher. With each strike, you can feel your strength surging, far beyond what should be possible. One of the mutants tries to block you, creating a forcefield, but you grab the edges before it can fully form, and break through it, the temporary pain vanishing as quick as it came. A solid kick to his face, and he crumples to the ground, unconscious before he even realizes it.
“Is this what you wanted?!” you shout, your voice echoing through the empty street as the last attacker falls to the ground, groaning in pain. “Is this what you came for?!”
The answer doesn’t come from them. Rather, it comes from a low growl behind you. 
You whirl around, heart racing, and there he is—Logan Howlett—the Wolverine himself. The man you’ve read about in every article, every piece of mutant-related news you could get your hands on since discovering your own abilities. He’s infamous, pretty much a legend, and the stories about him are as terrifying as they are fascinating.
Standing there with that scowl on his face, he looks every bit the dangerous figure you’ve imagined. His eyes are blank, calculating, and you can feel the weight of his gaze as it sizes you up. There’s a tension in the air, thick and suffocating, as he takes a step closer.
“So, you’re the one causing all this trouble,” Logan states gruffly, irritation coating his tongue. He unsheathes his claws, the adamantium glimmering under the streetlights. The sound is unmistakable, and it sends shivers down your spine. “Heard you’ve been killin’ off mutants left and right.”
You narrow your eyes, instinctively stepping back into a defensive stance. Your heart is pounding, but you can't show any weakness. 
“Funny, I thought the same about you, Wolverine. What’s the matter? Run out of bad guys to play hero with?”
Without warning, he charges at you, claws outstretched, but you’re ready. You dart to the side, your speed giving you an edge as his claws slice through the air where you’d been standing, making a woosh sound. You counter with a swift kick to his ribs, putting your enhanced strength into the blow. He grunts, stumbling slightly, but quickly regains his balance. The momentary advantage you gained is gone as he storms toward you once more.
You meet his attacks head-on, your blade clashing with his claws in a shower of sparks. The force of each impact reverberates through your arms, but you hold your ground, refusing to back down. His attacks are ferocious, a whirlwind of claws and fury. He's fast, but you’re faster, dodging and weaving with a precision that keeps you just out of reach.
“Look, sweetheart,” he growls between strikes, his frustration evident. “You can make this easy or hard. I don’t care which, but I’m not lettin’ you hurt anyone else.”
You scoff, rolling your eyes as you deflect another swipe of his claws. “Oh, please. You think I’m the bad guy here? These jerks have been coming after me for days. I’m just defending myself.”
Logan doesn’t look convinced, and that pisses you off more than anything. “Right. And I’m supposed to believe you, why? You’re leavin’ a trail of bodies behind you.”
You narrow your eyes, feeling the anger boil over. “Because I’m not the one who started this! They did! But of course, you wouldn’t know that, would you? You just show up, swinging your claws around like you’re the big savior.”
“You got a mouth on you, don’t ya?” He retorts, snarling as he charges at you again, faster this time. You barely have time to block his attack, the force of his blow sending you skidding back several feet. But you dig your heels in, refusing to give an inch as he continues plows forward. Your speed kicks in, allowing you to duck under his next swing and land a punch to his jaw.
He staggers, but quickly recovers, swiping at you with renewed fury. You're a bit sloppy compared to him, not as much of a seasoned fighter. His claws swipe at your arm, cutting deep and drawing blood, but the wound heals almost instantly, the skin closing up as if it had never been cut. You see the flicker of surprise in his eyes, but it doesn’t slow him down. He lunges again, becoming a blur of motion as he ups the ante.
You parry with your knife, but this time, you’re on the offensive. You launch a rapid series of attacks, your speed and strength managing to drive him back. In the rush of movement, you're able to see an opening, grasping his shoulder and shoving him hard, sending him crashing into a nearby wall. The impact is enough to crack the brick, but Logan just shakes it off, pushing himself back to his feet.
“Gotta say,” you huff, panting slightly from the exertion, “I’m a little disappointed. I expected more from the you, after all I’ve heard.”
Logan grunts, clearly fed up with the banter. “I'm done talking.”
He lunges at you again, and this time, it’s a battle of wills as much as it is of skill. You don't back down, your knife clashing with his claws in a series of rapid, brutal strikes. The alleyway becomes a blur of movement, metal against metal, strength against strength. Each time his claws find their mark, your regenerative abilities kick in, healing the wounds almost as quickly as they’re made. 
And for a moment, you wonder if you’ll have to kill him too, just to survive. But then something shifts. Maybe it’s the way your attacks grow weaker, less lethal. Or maybe it’s the way Logan’s eyes narrow in realization when he notices your hesitance.
“Wait a damn minute,” Logan says, stepping back just out of your reach, wiping his mouth, then spitting on the ground. He’s breathing hard, just like you. “You’re holdin’ back.”
He pauses, his eyes narrowing as they flick down to the knife you’ve been holding, and then back up to you. His expression shifts, a mix of disbelief and exasperation crossing his face. “And is that a kitchen knife?”
You glance down at the knife in your hand, realizing how absurd it must look in the middle of this intense fight. It’s not exactly standard combat gear, but it’s all you had when this started. You can’t help the smirk that pulls at your lips as you meet his gaze again.
“It gets the job done,” you quip, shrugging slightly.
He shakes his head, clearly not impressed. “You’re something else, you know that?”
“I'm choosing to take that as a compliment,” The sarcasm is practically oozing off of you.
He eyes you warily, his posture still tense. “You’re not makin’ this easy, you know. You got me here thinkin’ you’re some crazed mutant killer, but you’re just a girl wavin’ around a kitchen knife like you’re in a bad horror movie.”
You cross your arms. “Well, I didn’t exactly have time to hit up a weapons store. Besides, I didn’t ask for any of this. These guys came after me first.”
Logan studies you. “So you say. But you’re killing dozens of mutants. Doesn’t exactly scream ‘innocent.’”
“Trust me, if I had a choice, I wouldn’t be doing this–fighting… killing–at all. Hell, I didn’t even know I was a mutant until some guy swung his fist at me a week ago.” You meet his gaze, challenging him. “And what about you? You’re not exactly known for playing nice.”
He snorts. “Yeah, well, most of my casualties are from the missions I go on, so I'd say it's justified.”
Your eyes narrow, catching the implication in his words. “Oh, am I your mission now? How long have you been tracking me?”
Logan’s expression doesn’t change, but there’s a slight shift in his posture, a subtle acknowledgment that you’ve hit on something. “Long enough to know you’re not just some innocent bystander caught up in the wrong place at the wrong time.”
“So, what? You’ve been watching me, waiting for me to screw up so you could take me down?” you demand, the frustration clear in your voice.
“Something like that,” he replies gruffly, “But from what I’ve seen, you’re more reactive than proactive," he looks you up and down. "I can’t seem figure out if you’re the real threat here, or just someone caught in the middle of a bigger mess.”
You let out a slow breath, trying to calm the fiery anger rising within you. “I told you, I didn’t start this. They did. I’m just trying to survive.”
He doesn’t respond immediately, teeth grinding as he considers your words. You can see the gears turning in his head, trying to piece together whether you’re telling the truth or just playing him. He takes a step closer, his claws still out but not as threatening as before.
Finally, he asks, “You got a name?”
You roll your eyes, exasperated. “No shit I have a name.”
Logan huffs, unimpressed by your attitude. “Well, if you’re not gonna tell me, I’m just gonna have to call you somethin’… How 'bout Knifey?”
You stare at him, half-expecting him to crack a smile, but he’s dead serious. “Knifey? Really?”
Logan shrugs, a smirk tugging at the corner of his lips as he eyes your weapon of choice again. “Fits, don’t you think?”
“Fine. I’ll tell you my name, alright? Anything but Knifey.” You say, trying not to laugh at the absurdity of it all.
“... Gotta say, Knifey sounds a little better”
“Shut the fuck up, Wolverine”
“It’s Logan, actually.”
You release a deep sigh. “I know, and I don’t care. I’m telling you I am not the one you need to be going after.”
Logan scoffs, crossing his arms. “I’ve been around a long time. Seen my fair share of people who think they’re doin’ the right thing and end up doin’ a hell of a lot of damage. So, forgive me if I’m a little skeptical.”
“You would know a lot about that, wouldn’t you?” The words come out of your mouth before you had time to think about them, and you regret it immediately. You can see the mutant in front of you’s face darken to a degree bordering murderous, and you think you’ve crossed a line you can’t come back from. Whatever playful banter existed before this is gone.
“Careful,” He growls menacingly, “You don’t know what you’re talkin’ about.”
You swallow hard. The Wolverine is infamous for a reason, and you just poked at the beast beneath the surface. You briefly consider backing down, but your pride refuses to let you.
“Maybe I don’t,” you admit, “But I do know what it’s like to be hunted, to have no choice but to fight back. So yeah, maybe we’re more alike than you think.”
Logan’s glare softens just a fraction, and he lets out a long, frustrated breath. “You really don’t know when to shut up, do ya?”
“Not when I’m trying to make a point,” you retort.
He doesn’t respond immediately, just stares at you, as if he’s trying to decide whether to continue this conversation or end it with his claws. Ultimately, he shakes his head, the anger in his eyes dimming, replaced by something more akin to weary resignation.
“Fine,” he mutters. “Maybe you’re not the one I should be takin’ down. Doesn’t mean I’m gonna start trustin’ you.”
“I wouldn’t expect you to,” you reply, feeling a bit of relief that the situation isn’t about to escalate into another fight. “But I swear, there’s someone else out there pulling the strings. And I’m not sticking around to be their puppet.”
He nods slowly, crossing his arms again. “We’ll find out who’s behind this, but I’m callin’ the shots. You step outta line, and we’re gonna have a problem.”
You smirk, a little of your bravado returning. “I’ll try not to disappoint you, Logan.”
You can tell he doesn't appreciate your attitude, but he lets it slide. “Let’s get one thing straight. This ain’t a partnership. I’m doin’ this to figure out what the hell’s goin’ on, not because I like you.”
“Trust me, the feeling’s mutual,” you shoot back, though there’s no real heat behind your words.
Logan turns abruptly, not even bothering to beckon you with him.
It makes you roll your eyes but you fall in step beside him anyway, knowing that despite the rocky start, this uneasy alliance might be the only thing keeping you alive. 
“…So… where exactly are we going?”
He sends you a sidelong glance. "Who said I’m takin’ you anywhere?"
You throw your hands up, exasperated. "Well, if you don’t, these mutants are going to keep hunting me, and I’m going to keep killing them…” you shoot him a look, batting your eyelashes innocently. “You wouldn't want that, would you?"
“Fuck off”
"Well, too late for that now."
He grumbles something under his breath that you don’t quite catch, but it sounds a lot like cursing his bad luck.
"We’re headin’ to my place. It’s the safest spot right now."
----
Turn’s out, it’s not really his place. Or at least, it’s what you’d thought it’d be. It’s more of an abandoned warehouse that he just decided to seek refuge in one day, doing the bare minimum to make it feel at the very least, home-y. The heavy metal doors creak open, revealing a chaotic interior cluttered with garbage, old newspapers, and a few scattered items. In the corner, a single bed and a sagging couch that look like they’ve definitely seen better days.
Your nose wrinkles in disgust as you take in the mess. "Seriously?" you mutter, your voice tinged with disbelief. "This is where you've been hiding out? It looks like a tornado hit a thrift store."
Logan, who had been trailing behind you, lets out a low grunt as he shuffles past, not bothering to respond to your jab. His heavy footsteps echo in the otherwise silent space, the sound bouncing off the bare, cold walls. He heads straight for a small, battered table that looks like it's one sharp nudge away from collapsing. On it lies a worn notebook, its pages yellowed and curling at the edges, evidence of extensive use. Without a word, he picks it up and starts flipping through the pages, his expression unreadable.
Your curiosity gets the better of you, and you step closer, peering over his shoulder. "What's this?" you ask, reaching out to take the notebook from him. He hesitates for a brief moment before relinquishing it into your hands. As you flip through the pages, your eyes widen in shock. The notes are detailed, almost obsessively so, listing the names of various mutants, their abilities, and the exact locations where their bodies were found. 
"Oh, great," you say with a sarcastic, half-hearted laugh. "You've been keeping tabs on me. What kind of creepy stalker are you?”
He rolls his eyes and snatches the notebook back, his voice dripping with irritation. "I wasn’t exactly tracking you. I was trying to track whoever’s been killing all those damn mutants."
Logan’s jaw tightens as you just continue to stare, and he lets out an exasperated sigh. "And don’t act all innocent. I needed to know who was causing all the chaos."
Scoffing, you continue to look through the notebook, stopping when you come across a particularly detailed entry. "Wow... 26 kills? Not too shabby for an amateur mutant, huh?"
“Is your mouth unable to stay shut?” he questions, though you know better than to answer that. 
The notebook flops back onto the table with a casual flick of your wrist. "Hey, don’t be mad just because I’m doing a better job than you expected."
He crosses his arms over his chest, his muscles straining against the fabric of his shirt. "I’m not mad," he snaps. "I’m annoyed that you’re making light of this. It’s not exactly a high score to brag about."
"Oh, come on. You’re the one who turned this place into a shrine to my success” you smirk.
"It’s not a shrine," Logan growls, his patience wearing thin. "It’s a record. If you’d been paying more attention to what’s going on, you’d know that."
The playfulness fades from your face as his words hit home. He’s right, but you’re not about to admit it. Instead, you deflect. "Yeah, and if you’d bothered to talk to me instead of playing detective, maybe we’d have figured this out sooner."
"You think you’re the only one who’s had a rough time? This whole situation is a mess, and we’re both caught in it." His eyes narrow.
You cross your arms, mirroring his defensive posture. "You didn’t have to get involved, you know. Unless...what if you’re the bad guy here?" you challenge, raising an eyebrow in suspicion. "Using all these mutants to lure me into your dungeon under the pretense of trying to ‘stop’ me?"
His response is immediate. "I’m way too lazy to think of doing all that."
You can’t help but believe him, especially given the state of the warehouse. He clearly lacks the energy—or the interest—to tidy up his living space, let alone mastermind a complex plot. You let out a sigh and walk over to the sagging couch in the corner. The fabric is threadbare, and the springs groan in protest as you flop down onto it.
"Fine, fine... I trust you," you concede, though your tone is far from serious. "Did you notice anything specific amongst these mutants?"
"Yeah, I’ve noticed somethin’,” Logan says, dragging a hand down his face, now looking more tired than ever. “They’re all pretty low-key. Not exactly top-tier in the mutant rankings. Never caused any trouble before, yadda yadda. If anything, they’re usually on the weaker side."
You furrow your brows, intrigued. "So they’re not a serious threat."
"Exactly," Logan confirms with a nod. "It’s weird. These mutants aren’t the type to just go around being fuckin’ annoying like they have been. Someone—or something—must be pushing them into this."
"You think they’re all being controlled somehow?" you muse, the pieces slowly falling into place. "And that’s why they’re suddenly acting out of character?"
"Seems like it," He replies, rubbing his temples. "Must be powerful if they’re all falling in line like this. We’re going to have to dig deeper to find the source of it.
He moves to sit next to you on the couch, the worn fabric sinking even further under his weight. "Tell me everything you know," Logan says quietly, his voice a tinge softer now, almost coaxing. "Everything that’s happened to you."
You sigh and lean back against the couch, staring up at the ceiling as you start to recount your experience. "It all began about a week ago. Just a normal day, I was walking to the grocery store, then I noticed this guy following me. At first, I thought it was a coincidence. But no matter where I went, he was always a few steps behind."
His attention sharpens, his gaze locking onto yours. "And?"
"It started as just stalking," you continue, your voice growing quieter as the memories flood back. "Nothing violent. But then, it started happening with different people. Each time, they were more persistent, more intimidating. It became clear that something was off."
You can feel Logan’s gaze burning into you, his concern evident in the way he leans closer, listening intently. "Eventually, they started getting aggressive," you say. "One night, one of them blocked my path and tried to grab me. I managed to fight him off, but when he hit me, it didn’t hurt. I mean, it should have, he looked pretty strong, but my arm felt fine. That’s when I realized I had powers—some form of super strength, super speed, and healing abilities."
"And you figured that out just from fighting them off?" he questions, somewhat impressed.
You nod, rubbing your arms as if to ward off a lingering chill. "Yeah. I didn’t really have a choice. They kept coming, and I had to use whatever I had to protect myself—including my damn kitchen knife. The more I fought, the more I understood what I could do.”
Logan pauses, his expression unreadable as he processes everything you’ve said. The dim light from the single bulb casts long shadows across the room, emphasizing the lines of fatigue etched into his face. Finally, he stands up, his movements slow and deliberate. "So, here’s the plan," he starts, his voice rough and tired. "We need to figure out exactly where these mutants are coming from. There’s gotta be a main location where they’re getting their orders or some central hub for this control."
You hum in agreement, though a part of you is reluctant to jump back into action so soon. "Alright, so how do we start tracking that down?"
His lips press into a thin line as he thinks it over. "We’ll stake out the rooftops. From up there, we can get a clear view of their movements and see if they’re converging somewhere specific. Maybe spot a pattern."
You stretch, stifling a yawn as you glance around the shabby room. "Okay, but are we doing that tonight? I’m pretty beat."
“Seriously? You want to put this off?" he accuses, face twisting in irritation.
"I’m up for it, but I’d be more effective if I’m not running on fumes. Plus, you look pretty tired yourself," you shrug. 
He lets out a frustrated sigh, running a hand through his hair. "Fine. We’ll do it tomorrow."
A small smile tugs at the corner of your lips as you sense his reluctance to agree. "So you agree with me," you state, not really feeling any real pride, but just wanting to push his buttons.
Logan grumbles under his breath as he starts to clear a space on the threadbare couch, which creaks loudly under even the slightest pressure. "Do you ever shut up? I’m letting you crash in my bed, aren’t I?"
You chuckle softly, watching him arrange a tattered blanket on the couch with exaggerated care. "Yeah, yeah, okay. Goodnight, old man."
"Watch it, Knifey," he mutters, settling onto the couch with a groan as the springs protest under his weight.
You roll your eyes at his choice of nickname, and with a sigh, you make your way over to the bed, which is small and far from luxurious, but it’s better than nothing. The mattress dips slightly as you climb in, and the covers are thin, barely providing any warmth. Still, exhaustion pulls at you, and you barely have time to think about what the covers smell like before sleep overtakes you.
----
pls comment or message me if you'd like to be added to the series taglist!
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heegyukeluv · 3 days
Text
your eyes only (lhs) - req
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pairing: heeseung x afab & musical actress!reader
synopsis: You were used to having all eyes on you; after all, as a renowned musical actress, capturing everyone's attention was part of your job. But the moment you noticed a pair of eyes in the audience gazing at you with such passion, you knew things would change.
my's note: first and foremost A✨!!!!! YOUR VISION!!!!!! please i’m so happy you gifted me with the pleasure of developing this super cute and loving story. i really had so much fun writing it, and i hope you like it too!! also during the smut scene i got a bit carried away by these pics and maybe i’ve dedicated too much time talking about heeseung’s arms 😀 not sorry btw
warnings: fluff, small angsty (but with a happy ending!!!), explicit language, SMUT - so minors DO NOT interact!, protected sex 💪🏻, fingering, kinda rough sex? (this is the roughest i think i can do, unironically lol). lmk if I missed something!
request: reader is a musical actor/actress who takes many roles in musicals, plays, some movies and so and so forth. heeseung goes to one of the reader's musicals and is enamored by their voice and talent, and of course, their looks. (read the full request here!)
wc: 19k
NOT PROOFREAD.
taglist 💖: @yvnempire
Heeseung rushed his way out of his car, jogging through the people in the middle of his route to get to the theater as soon as he could, already knowing Sunoo was so pissed off with his lateness.
He spotted the blonde haired furiously typing on his phone with a scowl expression, alone, waiting for him.
“Don’t even start with your lame excuses,” Sunoo stopped Heeseung before he said anything when he finally got to the younger’s side, glaring up from his phone and already hurrying his steps towards the theater entrance. 
“I’m sorry,” Heeseung tried his best to sound apologetic, softening his gaze, opting for not making up any justification.
It wasn’t like he purposely got stuck in the traffic at all, however, he definitely was guilty about leaving the house twenty minutes later than he promised, just because he decided to finish up his League game. 
It was Saturday, of course he would choose to spend some screen time doing his favorite hobby. 
“I know you don’t like musicals, or almost anything related, but you kinda gave me your word, so…” 
They both walked side by side, stopping quickly to show their tickets to the worker who let them in after verifying it in the system. 
“I know, I know. And I’m really sorry.”
The lights were already off as the show was about to start, making them struggle a bit to find their seats; close to the edge and not too far from the stage.
“You won’t regret coming, Hee.” Sunoo smiled sweetly, already at ease with his behavior, picking up his phone to take a picture of the glowing set, just waiting for the right moment to start. He wasn’t really pissed with Heeseung, he knew the older one was actually doing him a favor. “I saw some pictures on instagram and it’s so pretty.”
Although Sunoo wasn’t lying about him, he was actually excited with the idea of watching something so different from his natural liking, and the bright, enthusiastic face Sunoo showed made his expectations grow even higher. 
Heeseung diverted his eyes to the theater main floor when the instrumental started sounding through the speakers, indicating the play was about to start, a shiver of excitement running all the way through his spine while he straightened his back on the chair.
The story was being told from the main character’s perspective, as expected. But what really got Heeseung tilting his head to the side and his eyes glistening in interest was the incredible beauty of the actress.
She had expressions on point, as if she was born to be there, happily wandering through the whole stage with bright smiles, looking at the crowd once and a while and acting with pure talent. She shone in between the other actors, drawing attention easily towards her. Of course she had the main character aura that helped it a lot, however, at some point Heeseung was sure that he, himself, had an extra spotlight on her, eyes never leaving her meticulously calculated movements and attractive face.
The way she showed raw emotions from the beginning got Heeseung laughing, worried and relieved – a rollercoaster of emotions he never thought he would go through just by watching a Tangled musical.
He also caught himself wishing for the actress to drift her eyes through the crowd just once more, so she would feel his intense gaze and look at his way, in a very utopic, hopeless, line of thought.
When the said Aurora got the chance to finally sing, Heeseung just let himself completely fall in love, unconsciously sighing as his heart faltered a beat every once. He didn’t expect her to have such a loving, enchanting, singing voice, making his body ache in despair to have more of it.
The final act got him all smiling, clapping his hands with genuine enthusiasm as the actors bowed to the crowd thanking them for watching. When the curtains dramatically closed, Heeseung inclined his head a bit to the center so he could watch you going away, leaving him with a taste for more.
He thought about trying to go to the backstage, especially when he saw a few people lining up apparently to get a photo with the cast, but Sunoo was already walking his way out of the theater and he deduced it had some kind of special ticket to get that.
“Who is Aurora?” Heeseung eagerly asked Sunoo when they stepped out of the theater, walking through the parking lot. He had literal crossed fingers hidden inside his jacket pockets, in hopes of Sunoo knowing about the actress.
Sunoo playfully raised an eyebrow. “I know you don’t like musicals, but not to know who Aurora is, is kinda–”
“No, I meant the actress,” Heeseung hurried to correct himself, blaming the fact he was still in awe. “Do you know her name?”
“Oh,” Sunoo replied by taking his phone out of his pocket and opening his instagram, showing the screen to Heeseung. “It’s Y/N. She’s one of the most famous actresses for musicals like that. I love her acts, like all of them,” he replied with a big smile, gesturing with his hands. 
Heeseung quickly got his phone to follow you after getting your username, not even caring about thanking Sunoo as he slid through your cute feed, shamelessly liking some of them. It wasn’t like you would notice him, as you had thousands of followers and a very busy routine, as it looked like.
And oh, you were so, so beautiful.
“So, how do you like it?” Sunoo asked with a small smirk when they stopped by Heeseung’s car, not failing to notice how the older one got really invested, although he wasn’t much sure if the fixation was about the musical itself or you.
“Honestly?” Heeseung locked his phone and opened his car. “I loved it more than I expected,” he answered with a genuine smile, a smile that did nothing to hide his real interest.
“It’s a pity this is the last one,” Sunoo said with a small pout when he entered the car, sitting on the passenger seat.
“W–What do you mean the last one?” Heeseung halted all his movements to fully face Sunoo with a slightly bewildered expression, who offered him confused eyes and a small frown.
“It’s the last Tangled musical they're gonna do,” he explained. “Y’know, they don’t do the same musicals over and over again. Especially with Y/N. She’s constantly casted for new ones,” Sunoo added, watching Heeseung’s face softening in relief before he started to drive. 
“You seem to know a lot about her,” Heeseung said with curiosity, eyeing Sunoo quickly before paying attention back to the road, the street lights passing by working as a beautiful background.
“Yeah, I really love her work.” He said with a dreamy tone, and Heeseung nodded, since now he was kind of loving your work too. “It’s a shame we don’t get to have more from her here in the town.”
“Hm?” Heeseung's head snapped to face Sunoo, and gladly he had stopped at the red light in time. 
“Musicals work almost like a band tour. They go through the whole country, stopping by cities for one or two weeks, it depends on the demand. This one had a three week engagement here!” He said excitedly, Heeseung paying attention to every detail. His heart sank inside his chest with the now acknowledgement of how your job worked, and the fact that he definitely wasn’t going to see you soon. “But college got me stuck, so I didn’t have the time to come and watch it. That’s why today was so special, as I texted you. It was the last one.”
“Thank you for inviting me,” Heeseung said with a tender, genuine smile.
Heeseung’s car stopped by Sunoo’s place, and with a quick goodbye he left, leaving behind a completely silent Heeseung, lost in his own thoughts. How would he feed his newest obsession?
When Heeseung finally got back into his apartment, he cared little about changing his clothes into something more comfortable, sprawling on the couch while stalking your social media for a bit.
He watched your newly posted instagram stories, most of them being reposts of videos and photos from the audience that tagged you into it, saying how proud of you they were, how much they liked and how pretty you looked. 
Heeseung remembered Sunoo taking a picture of the set before the play started, and quickly asked him for it so he could post it on his story as well, using the lame excuse that he wanted to show his followers his most new-found interest.
Of course Sunoo didn’t really bought it, but sent it anyway. 
Heeseung had never felt nervous about posting something on his instagram, especially on his story, a place where pictures and videos only lasted 24 hours. Nevertheless, in the past you weren’t in the equation, you weren’t the main target, you didn’t even existed to him. So he double-checked the small text and if the picture looked good enough to stand out in between the probably hundred others you got tagged into, pressing the “send” button.
“First time watching it. I loved it so much. You really know how to catch people's attention @y/n ;)”.
As the picture loaded, Heeseung instantly wondered if it was too much, with widened eyes and heart pacing fast, panicking a bit as he paid close attention to how some of his friends liked and replied to it almost immediately, but nothing came from you.
He waited for a few minutes for your possible repost, since you were online just seconds ago, scrolling through his timeline, a chill feeling overgrowing in his chest every time the small red ball of notification painted the top of his phone. Then he let out a defeated sigh as the reality settled in – meeting you was unlikely, and the chances of someone as famous as you noticing an ordinary guy like him seemed impossible.
That night he hopelessly hoped to dream about you and your voice, so he could experience more of your distant, idol-like presence. He was so intrigued about you. Your beautiful features, your perfect acting, your incredible voice, everything extremely fascinating for his poor, weak heart.
Unfortunately Heeseung did not dreamt about you, but he woke up with his phone buzzing under his pillow. 
With eyes squinting, Heeseung tried to understand why he got followed by a bunch of random people on instagram from last night. There were also a lot of texts from Sunoo in caps lock that his mind skipped reading and his everyday notifications that he always ignored. And then his attention was caught with your name.
He expected you to repost as you were doing for the majority of your fans, but you didn’t only reposted. You replied to him, directly.
“Thank you, sweetheart! Hope to see you more, then <3”
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“It’s just a message. She probably sends it to everyone. She seems reachable through her social media.”
Heeseung was trying to convince Sunoo – and himself – that your reply meant nothing but a simple, standard gesture from an artist thanking their fans. After all, he was a grown man who understood how the industry worked, how they encouraged fanservices as a way of attracting more people from the outside and maintaining the ones who already considered themselves as fans. 
Albeit his heart danced a different melody than his mind, doing flips just by remembering your sweet words.
“I don’t think so,” Sunoo retorted with a small grimace as he finished cleaning the corner of the cafeteria’s main counter. “The usual?” He asked Heeseung before getting ready to make his drink.
“Yeah, I’m running late for work,” Heeseung replied, glancing at his phone just to confirm that he probably would be ten minutes late to that morning’s meeting. 
“But I think you should shoot your shot, y’know,” Sunoo said with a grin while mixing all the ingredients. “Slide into her DM’s or something.”
Heeseung couldn’t hold back a small chuckle, leaning his upper body on the counter. “Is that how young people flirt nowadays?” 
Sunoo threw an offended glare at him. “Don’t act like you’re an oldie. You’re literally only 2 years older than me,” Heeseung laughed loudly at his reaction, shaking his head.
“I won’t do any of that, Sunoo,” he said softly and straightened his posture. “I’d rather just follow her work from afar. Me being in the audience and her, on the stage. That’s the closest I can get from her,” he now spoke more firmly, as if he tried to ground Sunoo’s expectative – and his own – down to reality. 
He spent his whole Sunday watching filmed performances from some of your old plays, unable to get enough of your angelic voice, your palpable talent, and of course, your gorgeous, captivating outstanding looks. The knowledge that your job made you be constant for a year or less, and then you were away for months, preparing for the next musical, shattered his hope and made him accept that he would have to wait for you to return.
“Well, you do you. But in my personal opinion, you’re missing a big opportunity,” Sunoo handed Heeseung’s coffee, waiting for the charge and the usual tip.
Once again, Heeseung shook his head, smiling and paying for his drink. “Thank you, have a great day Sunoo.”
“You too, Hee.”
Heeseung wouldn’t admit that easily, but he gathered some of his favorite performances from you in a youtube playlist, so he could listen to it while driving through the city, the way to his work sounding prettier with your beautiful voice echoing in his ears. 
As he parked his car, rushing to his meeting, he didn’t felt the large amount of stress he normally dealt with during Mondays, your melodic singing still fresh on his mind, easing the way he handled things through the day. 
The following weeks passed fast with his daily routine; you, still filling up his head in an addicting mix of your sweet vocals and his eagerness of witnessing you owning the stage again.
Heeseung craved the electrifying rush of his heart racing with wonder after you captivated his soul he once felt when first watched you perform, as if he was in abstinence. 
He monitored your social media for almost two months, hoping to see an announcement of your next musical or anything similar enough to give him a chance to listen and see you live, feeling extra hyped whenever he saw a picture of your practice, or other things related to your upcoming project.
He never got so invested in something or someone the way he was in you, especially after just so little time tasting from the source.
During a random Tuesday, fauxing listening to Jake’s rant about his new love interest and how confused he was feeling, he caught himself traveling through his own head, wondering what triggered this obsessive behavior.
Was it how dreamy you looked and sounded?
Was it the fact that he had to wait to get more from you?
Or maybe was the fact you were unreachable, acting like a bait to his delusional romantic heart?
Did he really fell in love with a famous person?
How bad was that? 
“And you're ignoring me again.”
Heeseung blinked a few times to regain his consciousness back to reality, the one where Jake was shooting him an annoyed look and his food was getting cold; the thoughts about you and his respective questions evaporating from his mind quickly. 
“I’m sorry, I’m a bit distracted today,” Heeseung slurped his, now, cold ramen, avoiding Jake’s judgmental eyes and grabbing his phone to see the notification that got it buzzing on the table.
“Oh, you tell me.” He rolled his eyes, before giving a quick head nod at Heeseung’s direction. “What’s going on?”
“Uh, nothing. You can continue your–” Heeseung was about to change the subject back to whatever Jake was talking, not wanting to admit that the reason he got so zoned out was you, although Jake was pretty much aware of this part of his friend’s life; Heeseung being a mess and failing completely in the art of downplaying. But then he saw Sunoo’s message. “Oh shit.” 
“What?” Jake asked with concern, observing Heeseung’s expression morphing from a shocking one with widened eyes and mouth slightly agape, to an extremely joyful one, with a big smile creeping out of his lips, growing gradually.
“Oh shit, oh shit.” 
“What!?” Jake exasperated, almost jumping over the table to try and see what got Heeseung so excited on his phone, curiosity overtaking him. “Huh?” He tilted his head with confusion, sitting back on his chair, trying to understand Heeseung’s overly stoked reaction over a simple poster from a musical.
On the other hand Heeseung’s heart was racing too quickly for his own liking, his hands faltering the grip on his phone as he read the dates for the performances, which were starting that weekend in some random place he didn’t paid attention since what caught his eyes was the theater name from the next week. 
He couldn’t believe it.
You were coming back.
After all the waiting, here was the chance he'd been craving – the chance to see you live again. His fingers twitched with excitement as he clicked on the link to the ticket sales, not even caring about Jake’s bewildered face and questions, too focused on rushing to the ‘buy menu’.
“Oh shit, this is happening,” Heeseung muttered to himself, more to confirm it than to explain anything to Jake.
“Are you gonna tell me what the hell is going on or just forget I’m right here?” Jake demanded, clearly frustrated but also amused by Heeseung's sudden outburst.
Heeseung finally looked up, beaming, eyes gleaming with something Jake never really saw before; it was like a child who got their first videogame after years of asking for it.
"It’s her, Jake! That singer I told you about. She’s performing here in like… A few days?" The cool facade he tried to maintain had a fall long ago, his ‘fanboy side’ being more revealed than he wanted.
Jake’s confusion lingered for a second before he remembered Heeseung relentlessly talking about this mysterious woman, the musical actress who had somehow captivated his friend so intensely. He let out a knowing groan. “So, you’re still obsessing over her, huh?”
“Not obsessing,” Heeseung corrected with a grin that betrayed him, his whole expression showing that he was, in fact, obsessing. “Just… Eager.”
Jake shook his head, a smirk tugging at the corner of his lips. "Eager, huh?” He leaned closer, raising an eyebrow up. “Yeah, that’s what everyone says, and then they spend a fortune on front-row tickets."
“Oh, right. Front-row…” Heeseung mumbled to himself as he got back to his phone, browsing through the available seats, hands slightly trembling as his finger pressed down to choose one of the best seats in the theater – front and center – with Jake’s words echoing in his mind. Thanks to Sunoo, he saw the announcement just in enough time to pick that one, and he completely ignored the price for the said ticket. 
“You’re really doing this?” Jake asked, incredulous watching Heeseung smile growing just before he bit his lower lip trying to contain it, as he leaned back on his chair. 
“I have to,” Heeseung said, finding it hard to not smile. His whole body was partying with his heartbeat serving as the background music. "This is my chance to see her again."
Jake rolled his eyes but couldn’t hide his amusement. “You’re so random.”
“Yeah,” Heeseung admitted with a shrug, his thoughts already drifting to the date he would see you, imagining your captivating presence on stage, singing with your ethereal voice, finally feeling every note in the same room as you with the attention you deserved.
He couldn’t wait.
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Every time you opened a new show in a different city, your body reacted as if it was your first time on stage, the blended nervousness and excitement working perfectly together and resulting in an adrenaline boost for you to be on cloud nine. 
You loved your job with all your soul. The family-like friendship you developed with your beloved crewmates and actors, the backstage of the plays where you sometimes helped with the props letting your creativity flow freely, the difficult work of memorizing the scenes keeping it to the original at the same time you add a few self-written lines here and there, even the chaos of the quick costume changes and fast makeup touch-up in between scenes.
But what got into your heart the most was the ability to sing your voice out, being the one under the spotlight, expressing yourself through your acting, surprising people with your so known talent the same amount you made them clap for your breathtaking performances – the cheers after every play you finished making you fulfilled, a constant feeling of accomplishment. 
You worked hard to get into that position though. Years of intense studying in college, years of hard vocal lessons you still took to this day, years of working much to be paid less, until fame hit you and things have worked amazingly well since then. 
Now, facing the closed curtains already in your performer mode, you waited your cue to enter the stage and own it as if it was yours – and almost every time, it actually was. 
“Thirty seconds, Y/N,” your stage manager said to you and you nodded.
The new play was about an old film called Anastasia, in which you played the role of the said character. It also featured one of your favorite songs to sing, "Once Upon a December”. The haunting melody and lyrics evoked feelings of nostalgia, hitting deep on you as you drove yourself through it, just like the main character, searching for your identity and place in the world.
The atmosphere your fellow actors and crewmates created while you sang was the epitome of your presentation in your opinion; the created ballroom simulating phantoms dancing around you, so endearingly majestic and graceful, while they, themselves, sang the background, mimicking the lost memories of royalty Anastasia. 
It would be an euphemism if you expressed yourself as just excited, especially due to your practice time on your expressions and voice changes to sound as heartbreak as the musical actually was, expecting the general opinion to enjoy it as much as you did.
You could hear the buzz from the public, showing the same enthusiasm. And with that in mind, you got your cue to enter the stage, fast and confident steps guiding you to your place.
As you directed yourself through the stage gracefully, easily taking the breath of anyone watching you, once more the sentiment of belonging eveloped you with a mix of love and deep sense of purpose.
The cheering, the emotional tears, the claps. You felt the audience's admiration through their eyes as the final note echoed in the theater while you held your last pose, breathing heavily as the weight of your performance resonated in your heart.
The curtains closed after you and the other actors bowed to the crowd, who gave a standing ovation to all of you. Your smile was bright and big as you walked your way to the backstage, high-fiving your co-workers – your friends –, sharing the sentiment of accomplishment as you searched for some water, throat extremely dry after so much effort. 
Before you could even think about anything else, someone suddenly bear-hugged you.
“I don’t know how you manage to awe me everytime.”
You laughed, letting your friend lift and swirl you. “Oh come on, Jay. You literally saw every single practice,” you said with a light-hearted teasing tone and Jay gently put you back on the floor, letting you go from his strong embrace. 
He rolled his eyes before replying. “You did amazing, as always.”
“We did amazing. It's teamwork, don’t forget it,” you winked at him and you both walked to one of the couches, so you could sit and rest for a bit. Your knees burned like hell after spending so much time wandering across the stage. “I wouldn’t be able to do any of that alone, especially without my favorite producer,” you nudged his shoulder playfully, drinking more of your water, making Jay chuckle.
The whole cast and some other crewmates came to compliment your amazing performance, you praising them back and always highlighting how grateful you were to have them not only as co-workers, but as a family, acknowledging the strong importance of their roles during your performances and in your life.
You went through the things that needed to be fixed for the next shows with your stage manager, the small changes in positions for the next theaters the tour would go based on their size and structure, while listening to the equipment and props crew discussing similar stuff.
“So… Where are we going to celebrate our “Anastasia debut”?” Yunjin asked, already frustrated with the fact that all her fellow members were talking about work just after working, you included.
“Don’t you have work to do?” You shoot her a small, playful grimace and she mimicked it, mocking you. 
“I just did it, idiot.”
You smiled big as you hugged her from the waist, pulling her closer while resting your cheek on her belly, before questioning. “Where do you wanna go?”
Although partying wasn’t a part of your overall interest, having some drinks with the ones you cherished to be around always sounded fun, so with Yunjin leading – as usual –, many of you followed her into a small pub, having the fun you deserved after months of work that leaded to that night’s rewarding performance. 
You couldn’t wait for the upcoming ones, your schedule packed with the amount of dates programmed for a long, exciting, run.
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“Ugh, I love Seoul,” Yunjin murmured with a concentrated frown as she took some pictures from the bus window. 
You chuckled, quickly glancing at your friend before grabbing your phone so you could reread some of the lines from the musical. Not that you struggled with memorizing the great amount of words you normally got, but you never let the chance to do a double check-up pass; always offering your bestest to your beloved audience was your prime motto. 
So you didn’t even realize when the bus started slowing its speed, snapping out of your focused bubble only when you started to hear a small chant of your name. You looked up from your phone screen, watching a little crowd pass by the glass window waving at it showing big smiles, without even knowing if someone was noticing or not. 
You always did.
Part of your job was to handle an audience, to make them fall in love with your acting and singing, so you could maintain them as close as possible and keep being able to live from what you loved the most. You enjoyed the interactions, treating them with the same amount of kindness and fondness they showed you through cute texts and letters, not to mention their words whenever they got to meet you in person. You tried to make yourself as available as you could, organizing your day to always have some free time to talk with your fans through your social media. 
Although exhausting sometimes, it was a worthwhile endeavor at the end of the day – to sleep with the fresh conscience and heart fulfilled, feeling their genuine love and support, no money could pay that.
When you finally settled at your hotel room, you gave yourself a small self-love treatment by taking a long shower and doing your skin care before heading to the theater with part of the cast to do all the warm-ups routine you needed.
The day carried a revitalizing sensation, your heart thumping with enthusiasm as the third performance of Anastasia approached. This time, however, it was more than special. It was in Seoul, your hometown – a simple fact that worked perfectly as an emotional aura for your background story.
Seoul always held a special place in your heart. No matter how the tour went, you made sure your managers knew that taking Seoul off the list was unforgivable; no matter the demand, no matter how much you could lose financially, you had to perform there. And you thanked your cast and respective crewmates for understanding your request.
While you wrapped up all the final touches from your makeup, hair and costume, drinking your last sip of water, you waited for your cue, as usual, unaware of the surprises the night held for you.
Because on the other side of the story...
Heeseung sat on his front seat with hands trembling and a fluttering heart. Every movement from the crew organizing the set to be perfect made him sweat in eagerness. He was so close to see you again, to witness your charming presence, your divine vocals. He didn’t knew much about the story from Anastasia, expecting for you to sweetly tell him through your performance. 
He was actually absorbed in the story being told, albeit his leg shaking showed his anticipation for your appearance. 
Thenyou finally stepped up onto the stage. Heeseung’s breath got caught on his throat, widened eyes glued on your every move, on your every expression, never daring to let you escape out of its sight; the front-row seat offering him the perfect view of your amazing looks and talented acting, the sound echoing through the theater tingling his ears in the best way possible.
Then your voice filled up the theater. Heeseung let out a quiet sigh, mouth slightly opened, feeling light headed by how gorgeous you sounded – there was it again, the rush of his heart fluttering in the addicting way it did before, entranced by you, this time intensified, stronger, far more passionate. 
As the melody of “Once Upon a December” flew through the air, your beautiful, shooting tone made it even harder not to shed some tears, alongside the couples dancing around you in an atmosphere almost painfully beautiful.
Heeseung was so enamored by every detail of you. How you expressed emotions with your body, with your singing, with your facials. His gaze never left you, following through your out’s and in’s from the stage to change outfits or scenes, missing you every moment you weren’t on the stage.
During your performance, each glimpse you shot at the crowd sent a shiver down his spine, as he silently begged for you to give him one, quick, minimal look, the smallest attention you could offer to him. 
For a brief second, you did. Not intentional, but your eyes meet for milliseconds. Heeseung’s heart skipped a beat; the way you smiled as if it was to him fed his delusional self too hard for his own liking. He had to ground himself back to reality in order to continue to savor your captivating performance. 
From your point of view, something was different that night. Among the sea of concentrated, curious expressions you normally faced while on stage, one particular person kept drawing your attention in a way it never happened before. 
You came across many people watching you, most of them with widened eyes, or mouth open, or a small smile, regular reactions you got from the audience once you showed up.
However, the young man sitting in the front-row flooded you with such endearing reactions; his eyes gleaming with admiration, intensely following your every move almost making you blush. He looked at you as if you were the only person in the room. Soft, tender expression sending a weird mix of reactions through your body.
As you kept doing your act, you couldn't help but glance back at him again whenever you got the chance, trying your best not to be obvious with your sudden curiosity about this stranger who seemed so completely captivated by you.
His reaction was almost adorable – the way his face lit up, as though your small acknowledgment had made his entire night. You felt a warmth in your chest, knowing that someone out there was this touched by your performance.
Through the rest of the play, you forced yourself to focus only on finishing it perfectly. “Anastasia” asked for less of a passion, happy ambiance and more of a sentimental one, and because the spotlight was constantly on you, it was very unprofessional to forget your main reason to be there and falter on your acting.
Nevertheless, each time you quickly landed your gaze on the strange, young – and attractive – man, you couldn’t help. He wasn’t just a regular fan. There was something more in his orbs, something deeper, something magnetic, and you caught yourself having an internal conflict. 
As you held your pose for the last piece of the play, showering emotion through your eyes for the happy ending, you nodded proudly to yourself when the cast prepared to wrap things up with the final performance.
Whoever the strange was, you apparently made quite an impression. And maybe, just maybe, he had made one on you too.
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“Anastasia” was scheduled to be performed for three consecutives days, an entire weekend. Heeseung bought tickets for all of them, craving to experience you in all the ways he was able to – with the big stage separating you both, leaving him to just observe you from afar while you did your job.
Your job.
After the first night finished, Heeseung questioned himself whether he was perceiving things beyond reality, maybe distorted, influenced by his strange, yet pleasant and intense feelings for you. If not, he was pretty sure that you watched him as much as he watched you.
He recognized the flips his heart did every time your eyes landed on him, just to avoid quickly and slip back into your character – the need of seeing you again being reinforced by those exact little glimpses towards his direction, a river rushing through his head, full of confused thoughts.
Still, he reminded himself not to get too carried away. After all, you were working, captivating the audience was your job, which you did gracefully, gorgeously, charmingly. And charmed he was, in every possible sense of the word. 
By the second night, Heeseung arrived earlier than he planned, the excitement to see you again swelling in his chest. Though this time he wasn’t on the front-row either alone, he still got a great seat to see you.
“I can’t believe you liked the musical that much to see it again,” Sunoo teased with a small smile.
Heeseung’s cheeks warmed instantly, a faint blush decorating it as he avoided Sunoo’s glance, before saying. “Y–yeah, I liked the musical a lot. I had to see it again,” he offered an award laugh, looking down his lap.
“Right. The musical.” 
Heeseung was about to respond when the lights began to dim, the known introductory instrumental and the storyteller started to play their roles. His heart skipped a beat as his head lifted, eyes following the actors entering the stage as they started to tell the plot. 
Just like before, as soon as you stepped onto the stage, his eyes glued on your beautiful figure. You looked even prettier that day, although you didn’t change anything since last night.
For a millisecond your emotional eyes drifted quickly to the crowd and Heeseung’s breath hitched, eager for you to notice him in order to confirm his delusional state, or worse, do the reverse, making him understand he was looking at the situation using too much of his romantic side.
His seat was not an easy spot to see him, and somehow that comforted his inner self. If he was right about last night, you would catch his presence, his intense, focused, admiring orbs following your every move. Otherwise, he would give up on whatever he was feeling about you.
On the other hand, Heeseung barely knew you were having a strong internal debate every time you went backstage to get out of your scene after finishing it. Heeseung had no idea you were looking for him like crazy, the best way you could. Heeseung couldn’t even imagine you, out of all the actors, would be using your highlight time, singing, to search for his mysterious presence, pretending to look at the audience as you normally did. 
And you found him during “Once Upon a December” as you expected to do, since it was your moment to sing facing the crowd.
Ironically enough, the exact time you sang the line “Someone holds me safe and warm”, you locked eyes with him – caught totally out of guard, your heart started thumping in your chest too fast for your liking as you widened your eyes, then quickly recomposed yourself and fluttered your eyelids shut, concentrating on singing your emotional song. 
Somehow you got captivated by his mysterious, yet gentle aura, standing out so easily among the sea of people, offering you cute and genuine reactions, showering you with admiration. Like a magnet, you kept glimpsing at him, finding it, again, adorable, how he always held eye contact, seeming a bit surprised, and then shyly drifted away. Even after finishing your solo, you couldn’t divert your gaze.
Heeseung, however, was a total mess. He noticed everything, and as an automatic response his heart was pacing fast, his throat getting dry and his mind spinning. It couldn't be a coincidence that you glanced at him that often mid-performance.
“I might be crazy,” Sunoo whispered out of the blue, using the loud sound of the singers doing their performance to stifle his voice. “But is Y/N looking at us? Or better, at you?”
Heeseung drifted his bambi eyes to Sunoo and back to the stage, frowning. “You–”
“See! She did it again!” Due to his exasperated way of saying, his whisper sounded a bit high. Some people gave him a mad grimace, he huffed an embarrassed laugh.
"She's an actress. She probably looks at a hundred people like that every night," Heeseung explained with a low voice, trying to convince himself more than Sunoo.
“Whatever you say,” Sunoo grinned at his friend before returning to watch the play.
As expected, the musical ended gracefully after a few moments of tension and the story finished to be told. Your acting skills shone through you every move, captivating the audience until the last second. 
The lights dimmed once more, and the applause echoed through the theater vigorously in appreciation for that amazing show. Heeseung standed up to clap along, not even hiding he was searching for you amidst the chaos. When the cast bowed to the crowd, looking at them after straightening up to face the audience, a last and steady eye contact was held before the curtains closed, leaving Heeseung speechless, mouth slightly agape.
“Even if she looks at everyone, she had some special eyes for you tonight.” Sunoo said low near to Heeseung’s ear, feeding all his thoughts.
Heeseung left the theater more confused than he expected, trying to figure out if the connection was true, or if all the world decided to trick his mind. In any case, he had one more day to untangle the blended strings of his sentiments, and maybe, if he was lucky enough, the last show would work differently from the other two.
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You were removing your makeup on your hotel room desk, Yunjin sitting on your bed finishing her own skin care routine. 
“I know this sound crazy and unprofessional, but last night there was a guy on the front-row–”
“The burgundy-haired guy! He couldn’t stop looking at you!” Yunjin cut you off, saying loudly and too excitedly.
Your head snapped towards her. “Burgundy– Wait, you’ve noticed him too!?” You asked flabbergasted, before going back to cleaning your skin, removing your makeup.
“Of course I did, he was almost eating you alive,” she said, rolling her eyes as she applied her skin toner. You looked at her again, but now with a shocked face, trying to figure out the meaning behind her phrase. “But with love. In a cute way!” She clarified after noticing your exaggerated reaction.
“I was afraid I was seeing things,” you frowned, looking at her through the mirror in front of you.
“Girl, definitely not,” she smirked. “If he shows up tomorrow again, please, for the sake of everything, get his number,” she demanded seriously and pointed to you with the bottle of the cream she held. 
“Oh, of course I will,” you said with a layer of sarcasm, not holding back your grin. “I’ll jump off of the stage mid-performance, hand him a paper and ask for his number.”
Yunjin giggled, nudging you with wiggly eyebrows. “Maybe that’s the grand finale we all need.”
You chuckled at her response, however, your thoughts drifted back to the said burgundy-haired guy, the memory of his intense, pierce, yet lovingly eyes glued on you sending a small heat to your cheeks as you finished your skin care.
When you woke up the next morning, your stage manager demanded the presence of everyone in the theater way earlier than you expected for some practice time. 
As the night approached, you found yourself now behind the big, red curtains with the buzz from the audience serving as a background. You stood in a corner of the backstage area, counting down from ten to one as a mental exercise to calm yourself. 
The anxiety you felt wasn’t the usual thrilling excitement before entering the stage, the longing to shine as the main act from the night. No, this time it was mixed with something else. 
There was a big chance the nameless guy would be in the audience once more, eyes glued on you like a magnet, attracting yours instinctively, in a way you didn’t found too pleasant still; a tall, strong barrier inside your chest making it difficult to ease things while working.
The familiar voice from Jay broke you out of your thoughts, interrupting your now inhale-exhale exercise.
“So, I’ve heard you’re changing your performance for today.” He said, voice laced with playfulness and curiosity.
You turned to face him, blinking in surprise. “What?”
“Get the number of the ‘burgundy-haired guy’?” His eyes sparkled with a mix of tease and amusement. “Or whatever Yunjin named him. Who uses burgundy as an everyday word?”
You shut your eyes close, finally understanding his words. “Ah.” You chuckled softly. “Yeah, the burgundy-haired guy.”
Jay laughed, warm and reassuring, placing both his hands on your shoulders so you wouldn’t avoid his gaze as you opened your eyes. “Invite him backstage today.”
Once again, you offered him a confused look, but now with a strong lack of confidence among it. His quick senses noticed your doubtful expression and added with a soft voice. “Y/N, you’re a human. You’re allowed to feel your feelings. Even if it’s about someone from the audience.”
You kept looking at Jay’s gentle eyes, not even a hint of judgment behind them. “Ok,” you said in response, nodding slowly before a smile tempted to curve into your lips. “Better option than jumping on him mid-performance to ask for his number.”
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Heeseung had finished watching you for the third time, doing the exact same things, singing the exact same songs, saying the exact same lines, with the exact same props and cast.
Still he experienced shivers down his spine once you sang “Once Upon a December”, a song that quickly crawled his ranking of your performances, topping all of the others. Not only that, you also seemed way confident today. 
Heeseung, on the other hand, was getting flustered.
You didn’t care much about being obvious with your glances at him that night, sustaining eye contact longer than he expected. Heeseung felt that you were performing for him only, just like he watched you as if you were the only person on the stage. 
You both shared an unspeakable connection in between the play – you, keeping as professional as possible; while Heeseung tried not to run away from your sharp, intriguing gaze.
Despite your initial nervousness, especially without knowing if the mysterious guy would appear again, feeding your anticipation inside your chest as you entered the stage, it took less than minutes for your eyes to find him, sitting on the side, giving you a small, shy smile. 
You made no effort to contain your heartbeats increasing each time your eyes met, allowing your body to feel the wave of euphoria running through it, regardless of your hesitant thoughts about being unprofessional.
Whenever your character demonstrated happy emotions, with your lips curving into a smile, you searched for him as though you were smiling at him. Same thing when you sang some specific lines, searching from his sweet orbs following your figure already. Although the concept of the musical wasn’t necessarily romantic nor suggestive, there were some gaps you could use to your advantage, and you did. 
By the end of your last performance in Seoul, you smiled brightly and big at the crowd, thanking them alongside your crewmates, bowing and waving goodbye; the known sense of accomplishment flowing into your veins, now blended with the excitement for your next move.
As you walked your way out of the stage, before the big curtains fully closed, lights already dim in the stage but bright on the seats side, you searched once more for the man who had charmed you. He was also making his way out of the theater, your heart pounding in despair as if you were about to lose him.
But like you attracted him through your intense staring, he looked back directly at you. Boldly, you offered a shy smile, biting your lips hesitantly before grabbing your manager's arm and sneakily pointing out to who you wanted to meet backstage.
Heeseung’s heart raced as he watched the ongoing scene, mind unable to wrap a full comprehension about why you and some stranger were staring at him, even scanning his surroundings to make sure he wasn’t seeing things – like maybe you were looking out for some other person. Then he noticed you pointing and the other strange nodding, as if they finally understood your intentions, almost mouthering an “oh”.
Heeseung tilted his head, swallowing hard as a slight frown formed when he saw you vanishing behind the closed curtains, leaving him to deal with his puzzled brain alone. He blinked a few times, then shrugged to himself, putting his hands in his jacket’s pocket, even shaking his head trying to recompose.
As he took the exit direction with the rest of the people, a security guard suddenly stopped him by grabbing his shoulder, saying in a low tone. "Sir, you’ve been requested backstage."
Heeseung was unsure if he heard correctly.
"Backstage? Me?" He stammered, mouth slightly open and bambi eyes full of confusion. Did he do something wrong?
The guard nodded and motioned to him. “Follow me, please.” 
Heeseung legs felt like jelly following the random guard into the said backstage, a blurred motion of his surroundings as the crew passed by, some removing the props off the stage, many others wandering around, and then he recognized the actors from the musical talking in between themselves, loud laughters echoing through the small area, some with their stage clothes on.
Then he saw you.
Still wearing parts of your outfit, smiling radiantly while chatting with someone he made no effort to identify – his body perked up with the sight of you, his whole being drawn like a magnet. 
He barely noticed the guard was long gone by now, leaving him standing awkwardly with mingled feelings he couldn't figure out yet. Bewilderment was a euphemism to describe it. 
You seemed even prettier now than under the spotlight, shining on the stage. You seemed natural, although you still had makeup and pieces of your exaggerated royal costume on. 
As you sensed the intensity of his stare, you turned, eyes locking immediately with Heeseung’s. The spark he would often feel when watching you perform ignited again, hands trembling, heart painfully resonating loud on his ears as the whole world seemed to fade out when you started to walk into his direction. 
He was so in awe he didn’t notice you were hesitant, your movements appearing to be slowed down in his vision.
“Hi.” You said softly as you reached closer, biting your lower lip to suppress your excited smile, afraid of scaring the guy off.
Your gaze wandered his face, taking in his gorgeous features; adorable bambi eyes showing you an entire night sky full of stars, cheeks with a faint blush, cherry lips slightly parted. Unnecessarily attractive. 
If you paid close attention, you would perceive how his ears also were painted in a light shade of red.
“Hi.” He breathed out in an astonished way, a sweet voice that made your stomach do a flip.
“I’m sorry for bringing you here so suddenly.” You started, and although you felt a small heat in your cheeks, you didn’t broke eye contact. “I– Honestly, I was afraid of losing sight of you,” you grinned shyly. “I’ve noticed you in the audience for the past two days and today as well.” You explained, after receiving nothing in response. “I wondered what got you so invested,” and then you chuckled, forcely agreeing that your choice of words was enough to clarify – for sure it wasn’t, but you decided to deal with whatever consequences later. 
Heeseung blinked with the new piece of information that entered his brain, perplexed by how sincere you worded it. 
“You noticed me?” He could feel his heart faltering some beats and then fastening again, totally desynchronized. Gladly he could figure out something to say, since his throat felt like closing. 
“Yeah, quite hard not to when you look at me so intensely with your beauti– with your eyes,” you tried to sound chill and playful to ease things, making it less awkward. However, the way you spoke seemed a bit too flirty, not to mention you almost let a compliment slip out of your mouth, and he blushed harder, chuckling. 
“I didn’t mean to stare. I mean, you’re an actress of course you’re used to that, but I recognize I might have crossed the line,” he was strong in maintaining his eyes on you, but the way you were looking through your eyelashes, blinking slowly, so prettily right in front of him, broke down his confidence – in a good, amazing way. Everything feeling like a fever dream.
You giggled, loving how you were affecting him, just as much as he was messing you. Before you could say anything, he added with a small shrug.
“I just got captivated by you.” And he went back into locking his eyes with yours.
Now it was your time to get a bit flustered, still, you held it together just before reuniting all the forces you found internally to say your next words.
“You’ve crossed no lines,” you smiled. “And I’ve got captivated by you.”
You watched how his Addam’s apple bobbed as he swallowed hard, the tension on his body loosening slightly, his timid smile spreading gradually wider as though your words unlocked something different deep within him. Somehow, you got even curious about what he could show you.
“May I ask your name?”
“Heeseung. Lee Heeseung,” he responded, offering you his hand. Your eyes followed the movement as you gave him a sheepish grin, grabbing his warm palm, the touch lingering enough to make your breath hitch.
“I’m Y/N,” you replied playfully, making him laugh, holding hands still.
His eyes turned into small crescents as he did so, his soft chuckle resonating beautifully in your ears. For some random reason, your heart started to beat faster, an interesting feeling spreading all over your chest, making you sigh.
“You were incredible up there,” Heeseung said after you both let each other’s hands go, blocking the awkwardness from establishing in between you two. 
“Yeah?” You raised an eyebrow and your lips curved into a smirk, knowing very much you did amazing, but a compliment from a gorgeous man like that easily ruined your confidence and contradictory, at the same time, it flattered your ego. “Thank you.” You said, right before analyzing you and Heeseung were standing in the middle of nowhere inside the backstage of the theater, so you gently grabbed his arm and dragged him with you to a corner.
Heeseung just followed you, in trance with your beauty, with your presence, with you. He also observed that your normal voice sounded quite different from when you were on stage. Endearing, if he dared to say.
As you reached a quieter corner, you let go from his arm and leaned into the wall, curiosity filling your eyes as you bit your lower lip.
“Sorry about that,” you said with a small, awkward chuckle. “Didn’t want us to block the path,” you nodded to where you were before.
“No problem,” Heeseung replied, still processing the sudden pull, the phantom of your warm touch still tingling on his skin. 
“So, besides me,” you said, crossing your arms in front of you, a hint of playfulness glinting in your eyes. “What did you think of ‘Anastasia’?”
Heeseung let out a chuckle, his tongue briefly sweeping over his lips as he took a moment to answer. 
“I loved every bit of it,” his voice dropped slightly and his gaze deepened. Although the known tenderness seemed to be mingled with it, there were more layers on it. “But I have to admit. You were my main focus.”
You giggled again. Second time in just a few minutes together. Heeseung actually felt like going to heaven and back to earth with the sound of your giggles, having to physically stop himself from his hands touching you, caressing your adorable blushed cheeks or landing on your hips.
“You flatter me,” you said sheepishly, uncrossing your arms. “But I’m sure I wasn’t that distracting, Heeseung.”
His name sounded so much more beautiful in your voice – the way you said it was magnetic, with a hint of sensuality and teasing, making his heart skip several beats.
“You definitely were, Y/N.” He opted to play in your game, taking a step closer, recognizing the change of the atmosphere between you two. 
You also were aware of the shift in the air, allowing your flirty, shameless part to shine brighter during the conversation. “I think I owe you a proper thank you for being such an attentive audience member.” 
Heeseung’s smile slowly faded out, his eyes softening and growing more intense, half-lidded with anticipation as you reached to hold his hand. 
“How do you plan on doing that?” He asked, husky voice tickling your stomach, his fingers sweetly playing with yours.
You gave his hand a gentle squeeze, your nervousness evident as you replied, “Would you mind waiting for me to change? It’ll take about an hour...” 
“Absolutely not,” he eagerly replied, eyes lightening up with expectation. Then he lifted your hand until his lips touched it and placed a tender kiss, as an unspoken promise he would wait for you. “I’ll be right here. Take your time.”
The soft press of his lips on your skin sent a shiver down your spine, the warmth spreading directly into your heart making your pulse race. 
Unwillingly, you released his brief, yet electrifying touch, offering a flustered grin and a reassuring nod while the anticipation grew within you. As you turned towards the changing room, you could feel the weight of his gaze lingering on your back, never once losing sight of you.
Yunjin met you there, more excited than you by your supposed date, to which you shut down right away saying it wasn’t a date. Despite your complaints, she kept her usual cheerful energy, helping you to undo your hairstyle as you removed your makeup, just to apply something more natural and less theatrical. You took a quick shower, as the heavy stage clothes and intense movements during the performance had left you feeling sweaty and disheveled.
Despite rushing your time, the fear that Heeseung might already be long gone was rapidly sinking in, so you hurried your steps out of the changing room when you finished your things, walking back to where you left him.
You let out a relieved sigh as you saw his figure happily talking with one of your friends, now with his back facing you.
“Oh, so you already met Jay.” You greeted them with a smile.
Heeseung averted his attention to your approach, your fresh sprayed perfume infiltrating his airways. He took his time to check you out shamelessly with his pretty bambi eyes filled with a perfect mixture of adoration and something darker.
“Yeah, he did.” Jay nodded with a smile, before leaning closer to whisper in your ear. “He seems pretty great, Y/N. Amazing choice,” and he wiggled his eyebrows playfully, walking away after saying a quick goodbye.
You felt your cheeks heating up with your friend's words, a faint blush decorating the area, to which Heeseung noticed right away. 
“You look beautiful.” He said softly, loving how casual you wore yourself; loose black shirt, baggy jeans and black converse.
Your natural look would always be his favorite – he wouldn’t admit that easy, but he stalked your instagram like crazy during the first days, so he was aware of a few things about your visual. However, no one prepared his heart to face it so closely, your beauty glowing even stronger now. 
“Thank you.”
He got startled when you kindly took his hand with yours, pulse racing with the sudden intimate touch. Nonetheless, he was loving every second of it, fearlessly lacing your fingers, paying close attention to your reaction. As he expected, you smiled sheepishly. 
“Would it be disappointing that my suggestion is a private bar near here, so we can drink and talk?” You hesitantly asked as you started to head towards the exit.
“Of course not.” Heeseung shot you with one of his sweet, reassuring glances. “I would go anywhere with you.”
You chuckled, unconsciously squeezing his hand as you tried to run from his flirty eyes. “You shouldn’t say things you can’t carry out.” You said, teasingly.
You both reached out of the theater using the back exit, avoiding the public so you could have some privacy. Being famous had its perks, but also a lot of downs, the lack of privacy being one of them. Nonetheless, you loved each individual part of it; since the beginning of your career you built a good community. In your relationship with your fans, you constantly reinforced yours and theirs boundaries. 
“You think I can’t?” He quirked an eyebrow, a sly smirk taking place on his cherry lips. You couldn’t help but focus on how Heeseung appeared even more handsome under the city’s nightlights, sharp lines being evidenced while the fresh breeze messed up his burgundy hair. “Should I prove you wrong, then?”
You got a bit taken aback with his sudden confidence, yet, you loved to see this new side of him blooming with you, allowing yourself to indulge in the game as much as you were enjoying the player.
“Well,” you began to talk. “You have three days before I head to the next city.” 
Although Heeseung’s chest tightened with your unexpected reality shock, reminding him that you were a busy woman, and traveling a lot was a enormous part of your work, he decided to enjoy your presence as much as you let him to, instead of overthinking about your soon departure.
Heeseung waited for you for months, he would wait for more if he needed to. 
His smile softened, still, his eyes sparkled by your subtle challenge. “Three days, huh? I’ll have to make them unforgettable then.”
You laughed, his words sending a pleasantly thrill in your core, excited with his promise. 
“Isn’t that too much pressure?” You raised an eyebrow.
“I like a challenge,” Heeseung shot back, playful voice laced with something deeper, almost daring. 
You giggled at his response, only now noticing he hadn’t let go of your hand since the beginning. Initially, you were apprehensive about the intimate touch, but Heeseung’s presence stirred a surprising sense of ease within you. His effortless way of breaking through your barriers made you feel comfortable enough to be yourself, dissolving your reservations with a natural grace.
You wondered if it was because he seemed genuine with his actions, since the very first night offering you such sweet glances and admiration eyes.
During your walk, you could see through his kind actions how respectful and caring he was, switching places with you so he was the one on the road side of the sidewalk, letting you walk in front of him whenever the space was narrowed by the flush of people, and mostly just by letting you to talk without interruptions.
Despite Heeseung’s ability of lowering your defenses, you still had some difficult thoughts about allowing it too much. A strong part of you were afraid of giving other people’s free access to your private life. You wished Heeseung could prove to you he was worth it. 
You reached the bar quicker than you expected, your relaxed chat filling up the walk as you discovered some of Heeseung’s personal traits and that he worked in the entertainment industry, being the one behind the scenes in the marketing area for some brands. Also you find out that his favorite hobby was to play on his computer during his free time and watch random youtube videos.
Since you knew the place, you chose a recluse seat near the corners, where no one could see you both having your intimate time together.
“I have to be honest,” Heeseung said after he sat down, facing you. “I’ve been in Seoul for God’s know how long, and I have never seen this bar.”
You laughed, grabbing the menu, your hungriness screaming in your stomach. 
“I love it here.” You smiled. “It’s very private and not many people are allowed to enter. Actually, if I’m not mistaken, it’s kind of an artist type of place? Like famous people and, I don’t know, CEOs come here.” You explained, Heeseung nodding to your words.
Heeseung was so thrilled with the whole experience of getting to know you better. He had always envisioned you as an idol-like figure. Your unreachable, distant persona, unallowing his mind to go further than watching you on stage. 
Ironically enough, the natural side you showed so far warmed his heart even more. Your bold humor, your confident actions, how your eyes lit up when you talked about your job and interests – everything working perfectly to make it harder not to fall for you.
Seeing you out of the actress aura, in a more relaxed and genuine setting, only deepened his fascination. The charm you once threw at him increased gradually as he felt his heart fluttering with your laughter and easy talk. 
You both got along like it was meant to be.
“I actually became interested in musicals because of you,” he admitted after some chatting, sipping the non-alcoholic drink he ordered.
“How come?” You asked, interested in the story, biting your pajeon.
One thing you loved about your job was to hear people’s stories of how they got interested in musicals. You’ve heard many, some because of their parents, some due to curiosity, others because of seeing it online. 
However, Heeseung’s one was a bit… Different from what you expected. 
“Oh,” Heeseung expressed with a shy smile, lowering his eyes to his glass, playing with the border of it. You cocked your head to the side, wondering why he went silent after your question. “I kinda…” He swallowed hard, his Adam’s apple bobbing, the movement neatly noticed by you. “Fell for your aura, y’know?” He tried his best not to say he fell for you. “Your voice is amazing. And you looked so confident.”
You blinked slowly with a bright smile, loving to see his flustered self gathering all the resources in his body trying not to be so obvious, although his eyes never lied to you. Heeseung’s words and the way his body was reacting unlocked something bold inside your chest. 
You were about to speak, thanking him for his appreciation or whatever your mind could come up with, but he continued. 
“The first time I watched a musical was when you did Tangled,” Heeseung was doing his best not to look at your eyes, afraid of losing his inner battle and saying what he wasn’t planning to. “I was accompanying a friend that loves you.”
“Oh,” You said excitedly, a smirk on your lips. You raised your glass and clinked it with his. “Cheers to your friend then.” You laughed at his confused reaction, now finally looking at you with his blushed cheeks, unnecessarily adorable. “Thanks to him, we met. Isn’t that right?” 
A darker shade of red painted his cheeks as he smiled bashfully.
“I think we can say that, yeah.” He nodded, taking a good sip of his drink, bambi eyes following your movements. 
You leaned in slightly, eyes twinkling with what Heeseung read as mischief, making his heart falter some beats.
“So you’re saying you’re a fan of mine now?” You teased, biting your lip shamelessly as your eyes drifted to Heeseung’s cherry ones. The alcohol in your veins facilitating not only your words to come out, but your actions to be bolder. 
Heeseung got initially stunned by your not so subtle flirting, pulse increasing fast. Then he decided to get on your game, purposely wetting his lips just to watch your gaze tracking motion of it. 
“Definitely a fan of yours, Y/N.” He smirked, also leaning in, your faces close enough for your breaths to slightly mingle. 
“And you’re devoted too. Attentively paying attention to me…” You purred, tilting your head to the side as your eyes softened, totally switching the atmosphere between you too once more. 
Something about the way Heeseung was attractive, had a good talk and seemed to be loving spending that small time with you, was stirring with you, to the point of you moving uncomfortable on your chair because the way he seemed to be so kissable right now was driving you insane.
Heeseung had his lips slightly agape and glistening due to his recent sip, hooded eyes analyzing your expression with adoration and wanting, as if he wasn’t afraid of showing off his feelings anymore. You appeared to be more interested in what he could offer than he was captivated by you, allowing Heeseung to gradually become confident.
His gaze lingered on your lips, the corners of his mouth twitching into a sly smirk. 
“My car is parked in the theater parking lot.” He murmured, looking around before standing up just to sit on your side – you didn’t knew if it was purposeful, but the way he positioned himself  covered your figure, so no one would recognize you. “Can I take you somewhere more private?” He took the chance to tuck a strand of your hair behind your ear.
You were flabbergasted by his sudden caring gesture, albeit intrigued by the boldness in his eyes. A small breath escaped your lips as your heart started to beat fast. 
“Somewhere more private?” You echoed, voice barely above a whisper. 
Heeseung nodded, now gently brushing his thumb on your cheek, heating the area.
“Only if you want to.” He added, his voice dropping down a tone, eyes locked into yours.
Your whole body got electrified by the amazing sensations Heeseung was making you go through. 
“Take the lead, pretty boy.” You voiced out as you moved your head just enough to plant a small, tender kiss on his palm. 
Your words were all it took for Heeseung to ask for the check, and didn't let you pay for your food and drink when he did so, despite your objections. You rolled your eyes, though your heart fluttered at the way he took charge so effortlessly, as if the thought of you paying for that night never crossed his mind. 
“I don’t think it’s safe for you to be around the theater still. Is it ok for me to go get my car and then I pick you up here?” As if he hadn’t been a gentleman enough throughout the night, he questioned before you could stand up, taking your privacy into consideration for his decisions. 
“Sounds great.” You answered, forcing your body not to overreact and your voice to sound as normal as you could. “But how do I know you won’t leave me hanging?” You questioned cheekily, though there was a hint of insecurity in your voice. After all, Heeseung could be the most captivating man in the world, but you had only known him for a few hours.
“You have to trust me,” he said, throwing you a quick cocky wink paired with a smirk as he made his way out of the bar, longing his gaze on you before disappearing from the main door.
Heeseung had no idea how those simple words and gestures affected you. Crossing your legs did little to calm the rush of feelings surging through your core. 
You sighed, grabbing your phone to message Yunjin about the change of plans. She was way more excited than you, making you laugh as you typed you probably wouldn’t sleep at the hotel with her that night. 
Anyway, you were also making sure someone in your circle of friends knew your whereabouts. Again, being famous had its downs, and dealing with creepy people was on the list as well. 
You waited sitting for a few minutes before going outside, since you didn’t wanted Heeseung to make the effort of turning off his car to announce he was waiting for you. Gladly, there were a small number of people outside, and you stood near to the security guard just in case. 
You spotted a black car pulling up in front of where you were standing after a while, the window rolling down revealing Heeseung on the driver’s seat with a small smile. 
“Hey,” your lips curved into a relieved smile and you opened the door to enter the car. 
Heeseung felt bad for being unable to do that for you since he had stopped in a traffic place where he couldn’t stop for too long. Instantly you sent your live location to Yunjin, just to be safe.
“I know I was the one who brought up finding a more private place,” he started, a bit uncertain. “But do you have any place in mind?” 
His question made you think for a while. Your hotel was out of question, since Yunjin was sleeping there too. 
“I don’t wanna take you to my place right away.” He added quickly. “Don’t get me wrong. I just don’t feel you would be as comfortable there…” He trailed off, glancing at you for a millisecond. 
“Because you know your place better than me.” You completed, quirking an eyebrow at him with a smirk tugging the corner of your lips. 
“Exactly.”
“Are you a stalker or just a perfect gentleman?” You asked with curiosity and playfulness. 
Heeseung let out a hearty, loud laugh, filling up the inside of his car as he ignored how his stomach did a flip about being a perfect gentleman in your eyes. 
“Neither, I hope.” He chuckled, looking at you warmly when he stopped in one red light. 
You smiled, enjoying how at ease you became around him, the blended seductive and playful atmosphere around you two building up the ideal scenery for you to fall for Heeseung. 
On the other hand, Heeseung wasn’t different. Slightly afraid of scaring you or making you uncomfortable, but still, loving the way you expressed yourself so vividly, making him laugh every second. 
“So… We’re going…?” He sweetly asked after your silence, waiting for your suggestion.
What Heeseung didn’t expect was to see your whole face lit up with seductive playfulness, the anticipation building up before you spoke, your velvety, low voice sending signals straight to his core, as your eyes drenched him in lust.
“Anywhere we can have a bed, Heeseung.”
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Heeseung didn’t let you pay for the chosen hotel room as well, to which your body reacted instantly as the heat increased, your desire dripping out your eyes as you devoured him shamelessly. 
His impeccable manners were almost too good to be true, being such a gentleman during the night, leading the way, but only after your consent, after asking you, after you taking the decisions. He listened to your wants and found a solution easily, a characteristic you found extremely attractive. 
It was incredibly refreshing to find a man like him, so devoted to making you feel like a queen, allowing you to simply relax and enjoy yourself without you having to ask for it.
Now, however, you needed him to solve another problem, the one in which your arousal had left your panties dampened and you restless.
Seeing his charismatic interaction with the worker as nonchalantly doing the check-in, the smile after thanking them, the skilful hands grabbing his wallet, his eyes switching from tenderness to raw desire when landing them on you. Heeseung was clearly struggling to contain his eagerness to take you to an intimate setting as soon as possible. His restraintment was driving you wild, intensifying your anticipation.
How were you being so affected by that? Also, you weren’t one to hook up on your first meeting – not even calling it a date, since it was a rushed last minute type of situation. 
Then you remembered. Heeseung had built up the perfect atmosphere for you both since the very first day you saw him.
His beaming expression, eyes glued on you, showing genuine enchantment by your performance and now, you understood, by your beauty as well. You felt more than flattered to charm someone so hot and attentive as him. 
His easy going personality and the way he acted like a true man, demonstrating to genuinely care about you, made a perfect blend of your ideal type – you didn’t even knew you had one until now.
As soon as you entered the elevator, it took one simple glance from Heeseung for you to attach your lips on his, shivering at the sweet taste of his mouth as your hands searched for support on his shoulders. 
He got taken aback by your sudden decision, but didn’t hesitate to reciprocate your touch, eager for more since day one. Oh, he was in heaven by the way you were falling apart right in front of his eyes, because he, himself, was drowning in your presence since the beginning. 
His mannerism around you was flawless, how he positioned his hands respectfully on your waist instead of lower, making you smirk in between the rushed kiss, totally contradictory to how his tongue passionately searched for yours to deepen the touch.
There were no words being spoken at that moment, but so much was being vocalized through his hitched breath and your soft moans, the ones that made Heeseung’s dick twitch in his pants. 
“Fuck,” he groaned and threw his head back when you deattached your mouth just to kiss other parts of his exposed skin.
In no moment you wondered if it was a set up, because if so, Heeseung was a better actor than you. There was no way he was faking his reactions while your lips sucked the flesh of his neck vigorously, as if your life depended on it, not even caring about marking the area as you did so. 
Both of you shared the same thinking: the door needs to open soon, otherwise the elevator cameras would be filming something very intimate. 
Heeseung went back to kissing you, already addicted to your taste, sucking your tongue and lip fervently just to hear your sounds once again. You scratched his nape with your fingernails when you finally heard the sound of the door opening, both of you giggling in between the kiss since none of you decided to move away, stumbling your steps until you reached the room door. 
Heeseung positioned your back against the wall just to skilfully unlock the entrance, pushing you against the door to open and closing it back with his feet.
You took no time to appreciate the beauty of the room, eagerly waiting for the moment the back of your knee would hit the bed and you would finally have Heeseung hovering you the way you wished the most.
You removed Heeseung’s jacket and tossed it at some random place on the floor before he maneuvered your body when you reached the soft mattress, so you could lay comfortably – his strong grip on your thigh and hip sending jolts of excitement to your core as you gasped for air, but never once completely breaking the contact of his sultry, hot mouth against yours.
He wasted no second to position himself over you, the weight of his body pressing yours in an electrifying way, his lips only backing away to place rough kisses on your neck, nibbling your ear lobe as his fingers infiltrated your shirt to touch the bare skin of your stomach.
Your body reacted instantly with the amount of stimulus, arching into him, yearning more and more of his heated hands and mouth working wonders on you. Instinctively, your fingers tugged his beautiful strands of hair while pulling him down, closer, inciting Heeseung to continue his assault on your sensitive flesh. 
However, as your impatience grew, so did your desire.
“Heeseung…” You breathed out, panties already ruined by how wet you were.
“Hm?” He murmured, trailing kisses until he reached your mouth again, his hands still heating the area of your waist as he caressed it painfully slowly, giving you a rush of chills.
You kissed him back, then pushed him away by pulling his hair, searching for his now darkened eyes, filled with lust and a small hint of the usual tenderness towards you. You watched how his gaze switched between your lips, your eyes and other areas of your face, as if he was memorizing every feature of yours to keep them as a personal picture. 
“Don’t keep me waiting,” you whispered with your voice rich with desire, your heavy breaths mingling with Heeseung’s in an intimate way you didn’t expect to feel with him so easily.
He chuckled at himself, blinking slowly as he bit his lower lip, hooded eyelids demonstrating how far gone for you he already was, lost in his pleasure. 
“I’m sorry,” he whispered back, planting a sweet kiss on each of your cheeks. “You just feel too good.”
And he wasn’t lying. 
The way your body reacted to all of his touches so far was driving him instantly to hell and back to earth, his own skin tingling with a hunger he never felt before just by hearing your small, beautiful sounds. Heeseung wished to stop time and have you like that for the rest of his life, even if it sounded exaggerated and premature. He developed feelings for you long enough to have his mind working in that way, yearning for every bit of you, with his sharp gaze catching all of your reactions as he always did.
“I want to enjoy every second I have with you.” Heeseung admitted genuinely. You noticed the top of his ears turning into a cute shade of red. 
“You can do that,” you reassured, downing your hands from his hair to his shoulders and then to his strong arms, almost moaning after feeling them tensing under your touch. “But please,” you pleaded firmly with a low voice, squeezing his biceps. “Don’t make me wait anymore.”
With a small nod, a sly grin and a brief peck on your lips, Heeseung sat on his knees, the hands once under your shirt just brushing slightly the area, glided slowly over your skin as he moved to undress the fabric off of your body. 
He searched for your gaze before moving forward. “Are you sure about that?” He had stopped himself mid-action for your consentment, and you couldn’t help but smile, finding adorable his respectfulness with you, despite the obvious shared intense, almost tangible, desire.
“Totally.” 
After your word he finally removed your shirt, leaving your upper body covered only with your bra.
You shivered under his lascivious gaze, devouring you shamelessly with a satisfied smirk. He looked drunk as he approached again, brushing his lips on your collarbone and then near your breasts, playing with it over the clothing piece teasingly, looking up at you with his big bambi eyes showing a faux innocence. 
The fresh contact of his mouth and tongue against new parts of your body made you arch your back again, closing your eyes to enjoy the sensation. You felt his hands working its way to free your boobs and when he finally did, you moaned in relief.
“Fuck,” he groaned with a small, attractive frown, as if he was mad with your beauty. “You look perfect.”
You fluttered your eyes open, catching a sight of how dedicated Heeseung was sucking your hardened nipple while his hand massaged the other, eventually switching sides to give both equal treatment, and you also caught him already looking at you, savoring each of your reactions.
Little did you know that while tasting you, he was also engraving into his memory those raw, genuine expressions, so different from the ones he had seen when you were on stage, acting. 
You managed to reach for the hem of his beige shirt, teasing to slide them off. He noticed right away your attempt and quickly helped you by sitting on his knees and undressing himself, revealing to your hungry eyes his slightly tanned torso, his muscles tensing as he moved to toss the clothing piece to the ground. 
Heeseung got shy under your thirsty gaze, but how could you look at him any other way? His body seemed flawless under the room’s dim light, broad shoulders, biceps and chest with just the right amount of muscles. Not to mention the silver chain necklace adorning his neck, which you found particularly attractive, and his gorgeously messy hair.
“You’re so fucking hot, Heeseung.” You murmured with sincerity, your fingers trailing over his arms, feeling the firm texture beneath your touch. 
The room appeared to shrink, the air getting thicker as your respiration accelerated with the view. The anticipation to feel all those parts pressing flush against yours grew, a thrill of excitement running throughout your body straight to your cunt. 
Heeseung acted out of instinct after your praise, as if upon realizing your desire mirrored his own, the carefulness, the gentleness he was cherishing to give you during the night instantly vanished just to be replaced by the raw yearning of being inside you. 
Of course he would still listen to your demands, there was a vivid part of him willing to give you the affection you deserved. However, by the way you cheekily smiled and how your gaze sharpened after him yanking his own jeans and then yours, he knew how you wanted it to happen.
Heeseung brushed his painfully hardened dick on your thigh as he reached for your mouth, kissing you fervently while one of his hands explored your clothed pussy. He moaned against your lips when you purposely slightly moved your leg to grace his cock with a bit more of friction, as a way of thanking him for rubbing your pulsing clit over your panties.
It was a shared intimate touch covering the visceral need of fucking you for good, his inner battle going on about how to treat you, since your non-verbal answer – lustful eyes and smile – didn’t meant much to him to be certain within his decision.
“Heeseung,” you moaned, grinding against the skilful fingers making circles on your clit, the fabric preventing you from feeling them directly on your pussy, making you annoyed. “I want you, stop teasing me.” You demanded, and instantly Heeseung moved his head to the curve of your neck, gently kissing it while pushing your panties to the side to start fingering you.
He collected a bit of your arousal on your slick folds, literally moaning just by the feeling of his digits sliding with ease on your pussy, pressing your entrance with one and then two, loving to hear your beautiful whimpers.
Heeseung supported himself with one arm just to watch your pleasant frown, your mouth slightly agape, your breath hitching, eyes fluttered shut.
“You look so fucking beautiful right now,” he admitted in a low, husky tone, sending shivers to your spine. 
You opened your eyes, a sly smile adorning your lips as you said. “Imagine how beautiful I’ll be with your cock instead of your finger, then.”
Heeseung’s dick twitched against your thigh with your words. You observed his eyes darkening even more, taking in the challenge as his life depended on it, barely giving you time to process him removing all the clothing pieces from both of you, offering the gorgeous view of his reddened and extremely hard shaft, tip dripping precum. 
Your mouth watered, but you ignored your sudden urge of sucking him, since your biggest want was to have that dick inside of you as soon as possible. 
You tracked his movements with your eyes, a low groan escaping from your throat as you watched Heeseung put on the condom and pump his length a few times. The vein of his arm popped due to the motion, making you wonder how hot he would look desperately touching himself, a thought you opted to keep to yourself for now.
“I hope you don’t hold back.” You provoked, quivering beneath his heated body as he positioned himself to enter you, supporting himself with one arm as your hands found its comfort on his shoulders. 
Heeseung looked at you with a raised eyebrow and a cocky smirk.
“I wasn’t planning to.”
His words only fueled the fire between you, and with a slow, deliberate motion, he aligned himself perfectly, his gaze never leaving yours. 
“You’ve set the pace,” he murmured, low voice dripping with desire. “Let’s see if you can keep up.”
You rolled your eyes and smiled as a response to his dirty and teasing words, a soft moan escaping your lips as he started to fill you up so perfectly. But Heeseung gave you no time to savor it properly, beginning to thrust deep and hard, yet agonizingly slow, as if he was messing with you right after your explicit request. The playful glint in his eyes made it clear how delighted he was by setting the rhythm, toying your pussy just how he wanted, enjoying a bit too much the show of the changes in your facial expressions.
“You feel so fucking good,” Heeseung sighed with a pleasant frown. 
Your walls clenching around his sensitive dick was driving him insane, the euphoria to fuck you harder and faster rising in his chest, albeit he did his best to control it because he had two goals that night. First, to experience you in every possible way, and second, to make sure you never forgot just how incredible he could be at it.
You wanted to curse Heeseung’s pace, but it would be a lie to say you weren’t enjoying every second of his slowness, how it allowed you to feel each inch of his cock deliciously sliding inside you, delaying your run towards your relief.
Heeseung attached his lips on yours while keeping the deliberated grind, a passionate kiss mingled with your soft moans and hitched breaths.
There was something about the way he was treating your body with such devotion, taking his sweet time to taste your mouth while feeling your pussy sliding on his length, gradually learning exactly how to satisfy you.
His hands caressed your skin with affection, sensing it shivering under his contact, then he shot you a playful look, repositioning himself on his knees as he grabbed a pillow to place it under your waist, opening and slightly lifting your legs, in a way to give him easy and full access to hit you deeper.
You whimpered by the instant amazing feeling of Heeseung finding your g-spot right away, his face lighting up with the new information you just gave him without uttering a single word besides his name within moans.
“F–fuck, Heeseung–” Your broken voice and the desperation in your eyes served as the final push for Heeseung to lose control and speed his thrusts, your knuckles turning white with your strong grip on the sheets. 
You let out a sequence of whimpers, groans, moans, whatever sounds you were able to make, entirely lost in your lustful pleasure, your whole body shaking on the bed as Heeseung frantically and intensely moved his hips.
“I wasn’t lying when I said I’d make your days unforgettable,” Heeseung’s husky, confident voice triggered a new wave of ecstasy throughout you.
You winced underneath him, fully unable to say cohesive words. Your mouth fell open, eyes rolled back right before fluttering shut within a frown. The lewd slaps sounds of him pounding roughly on your pussy making you completely dizzy, his urgent rhythm driving you close to the edge.
Heeseung’s breathing was heavy and erratic, filling the room together with your loud moans as he pushed you near to the brink of release, his hands squeezing whatever part of your legs he touched, your own hips unconsciously grinding to meet his rhythm. 
The knot on your stomach tightened gradually, and Heeseung’s pace became unsteady. The small piece of your mind that still worked correctly deduced Heeseung was just as close as you to his own climax, so you tightened your walls purposely and opened your eyes just in the right time to catch a glimpse of Heeseung throwing back his head, consumed by his pleasure; his flushed neck glistening in sweat, his Adam’s apple bobbing as he moaned, the fucking chain necklace dangling.
“Hee– close–” You tried to warn, you really did. But the whole moment got you overwhelmed in the bestest way possible. You barely had strength to think, let alone talk.
Heeseung snapped out of his blurry bliss with your voice echoing in his ears. His eyes searched for you right away, instantly moaning at the view of you, perfectly messy, falling apart, just for him to see.
He leaned forward, decreasing the distance between your torsos. Without a second thought, your hands roamed over his firm, strong arms until you reached his nape, pulling him into a sloppy kiss, as though your body naturally gravitated towards him, like a magnet.
Neither of you could keep on the kiss, Heeseung’s head falling besides yours as your fingernails scratched his back, the urge of your so close orgasm making you desperate. 
“Please–” You pleaded without much thinking, legs evolving Heeseung’s waist trying to help his erratic movements. 
“Come for me, yeah?” He murmured against your ear, holding back his own release just to feel your walls clenching him while achieving your orgasm. “Come for me like a good girl.”
And you did. Screaming his name, digging your nails on his skin, waving your body as the surge of your breathtaking climax rushed over it.
You felt Heeseung’s dick throbbing right before he filled up the condom with his release together with the beautifulest moan of the night, the one where he said your name lasciviously, hoarse and intimate in your ear.
Heeseung’s exhausted body collapsed on yours, his sweaty skin clinging to you and yet you gave no care. Your focus was on catching your breath, trying to ground yourself with your sight still hazy from the intensity of your climax. 
“Holy shit,” you managed to whisper as you kept panting.
“I’m sorry,” Heeseung immediately replied, a small hint of guilt hidden in his husky voice.
“For giving me the best orgasm of my life?” You breathed out, chuckling. The post-orgasm high made you feel like jelly.
He laughed. The sound warming your chest and also helping you to calm down quickly.
“Did I hurt you?” Heeseung questioned with concern, looking at you.
You shook your head in response and he smiled. Your hooded eyes followed Heeseung’s gorgeous figure, going quickly to the bathroom to discard the condom and back to the bed, laying down next to you.
“I wasn’t planning on going that hard with you at first, but–”
“Yes, you were.” You interrupted with a playful smile. “And I’m glad you did. It was amazing, Heeseung,” the compliment slipped out of your mouth with ease as you caressed his hair and then his face.
Heeseung let out what sounded like a relieved sigh, as he pressed a peck on your cheek, then the corner of your lips before sucking your lower lip and kissing you properly. 
“It was my pleasure, Y/N.” He whispered against your mouth, kissing you again with a sweetness that seemed impossible after what just happened, but you knew it was real, because he offered you the same tenderness since day one through his eyes.
You found yourself snuggling on his chest and he hugged you warmly. There was something in Heeseung's acts that exhaled intimacy in a way it scared you, knowing deep down if he kept treating you like that, you would inevitably grow attached to his presence. 
You got lost in your thoughts for a while, torn in between the warmth of his body touching you with care and the sinking feeling of his inevitable departure. Although Heeseung seemed to be an amazing man, nothing would stop him from simply leaving, especially when there was no mention of commitment from any of you or whatsoever.
Nonetheless, Heeseung's connection with you appeared to grow stronger each second you spent together, because his first words after the long silence were “Can I get your number?”
You lifted your head from his torso, a bit flabbergasted by his sudden, unexpected question. You had to blink a few times and watch his bambi eyes show you curiosity with your reaction to know he wasn’t messing around. 
“Sure. If you promise not to leak it out.” The only answer he offered you was his pinky for a pinky promise, to which you took in with a serious face. “You can’t break it, yeah?” And he laughed.
“Cross my heart, I won’t.”
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The following three days felt like something in between a k-drama and a fever dream – too perfect to feel real. 
Heeseung had work during the mornings and the afternoons, meaning he couldn’t be with you the whole day – unwillingly, of course. To which you thought it was great, since it allowed you to hang out with Yunjin and Jay, and also to concentrate on your job, rehearsing for the next performances alongside your castmates, warming up your vocals with your teacher, re-reading the lines just in case. 
However, the anticipation tightened in your stomach with every buzz of your phone with a notification, heart racing reading Heeseung’s name on the screen. 
“I wanna see you soon.” “Can’t wait for tonight.” “Missing your pretty face, ngl.”
His simple texts did no good to help your inner battle, nor his perfect mannerism for caring about your health, your voice, your sleeping, the small things that sometimes neither you cared that much.
The fear of getting attached extremely fast to someone and having your heart broken was almost suffocating, and somehow Heeseung managed to wipe your thoughts away within every encounter.
There weren’t too many after the night you spent together, but each had a distinctive situation that deepened your connection.
Monday, he picked you up at your hotel after work for a small dinner at his favorite restaurant. You found yourself thirsting over his extremely good looking figure when he showed up in a simple, yet mesmerizing black button-down shirt with the first three buttons undone revealing a hint of his tanned skin beneath, and his usual heart-melting smile.
“Ready for tonight?” He asked you with a beaming face that filled your heart with warmth and a cocky grin that later on, led you to ride his dick until your legs burned after you both reached the chosen hotel for the night. 
You were nothing but astonished with how deeply invested you got in Heeseung, longing for his presence every minute. The chemistry between you both was electric, the sexual tension almost palpable pairing in the air, blended perfectly with the easygoing atmosphere you always shared. Heeseung fulfilled your desires easily, as though he was reading his favorite book – you – knowing every line by heart. 
The second time you met was in the middle the following day, when he decided to spend his lunch hour with you, sharing a meal as you casually chatted about everything. Heeseung had a comforting way of listening to you with softened and attentive eyes, nodding along, occasionally adding his own point of view with a relaxed charm. Not to mention how smart he sounded as he talked with his soft tone and how beautiful his laughter sounded when he genuinely enjoyed a joke. 
“I didn’t know you enjoyed cooking that much,” he remarked at some point, his eyes lightening up after you shared your hobby of experimenting out new foods just to get their recipes and try doing it by yourself in your kitchen every once and a while during your free time.
You had no idea connections could be developed so quickly with someone as you did with Heeseung, how your energies and personalities complemented in a way that made every interaction feel effortless, as if words didn’t needed to be fully spoken in order to understand each other.
Later the same day, Heeseung met you at night again. He timidly admitted he hadn’t prepared much for the evening, but ended up making you the happiest woman on the earth by driving you both to a dinosaur museum exhibition after learning your fascination with them.
As you explored the exhibit, your eyes sparkled with excitement, and Heeseung couldn’t help but smile at your enthusiasm. You animatedly explained the different species ignoring completely the small text next to every skeleton – Heeseung doing the same, since listening to your voice sounded way more interesting than reading.
Your tone raised with joy as you pointed out the massive skeleton of the stegosaurus, eyes gleaming with love, your big smile making Heeseung’s heart falter some beats. 
“You look so cute,” Heeseung said, chuckling softly, his hands hidden in his jacket’s pocket while tenderly watching you bouncing on your feet.
You beamed back at him. “It’s so interesting and cool to imagine those big boys walking on earth before us. Like, we are not literally, but somehow stepping on places they once stepped too.”
Heeseung’s gaze lingered on your glowing figure and at that moment, he recognized. He fell in love with you.
Not only for the talented actress on the stage, the amazing singer with an angelic voice, the famous performer who loved her fans with her whole heart.
Heeseung fell mainly for the genuine, happy, confident and warm woman in front of him. The one who easily sent chills through his spine just for laughing at his stupid jokes. The one who made the air thicker with her strong presence, just to stumble on her own legs and chuckle at it. The one who knew what she wanted and how she wanted. The one who secretly shared she was good at painting and handicrafts. 
He could spend nights in hotel rooms hearing your moans and pants, feeling your intimate touches, kissing you mouth and any other place on your body he wanted to, but nothing compared to the fulfillment feeling spreading inside his chest when seeing you so pure, with raw emotions like that. 
That night ended up like a date. He left you at your hotel and went home after kissing you slowly and tenderly at the entrance of the building, wishing you a good night's sleep and for you to take care.
It was your last day in Seoul before heading to the next city with the musical, and the bittersweet feeling weighed heavily on your heart. You were struggling with the drowning sentiment of leaving Heeseung behind, the idea of not knowing when, or even if he wanted to keep on seeing you made the lump in your throat hard to swallow.
Your insecurities grew heavier each second before the encounter. You hoped for Heeseung to come up with the sweet sorrow and necessary conversation first, since your messy, anxious thoughts did nothing to help you go through it without assuming the worst.
“Hi, pretty.” His sudden appearance startled you, drawing your gaze from the distant random point on the street you were staring at. “Sorry,” he murmured, pressing a soft kiss to your cheek, his hands finding their comfort place on your waist, grounding you.
A smile spreads across your face, eyes brightening up with relief.
“Hi.” You greeted back, leaning to kiss him on the lips, pouring all the affection you felt into that simple gesture. 
You wished Heeseung could sense how deep you were falling for him, quickly becoming a vital part of your daily life in such a small amount of time.
“Are you okay?” He asked with concern, placing a sweet kiss on your forehead. “You seemed a bit oblivious.”
You shook your head, not only as a response to his question but to wipe away your confused thoughts. 
“I’m better now.” You said, which wasn’t a lie.
“Great,” Heeseung whispered with a smile against your head before kissing the top of it and then held your hand to walk you to his car. “I’ve prepared something different for today.” He said with a cheekily grin, the playful glint on his gaze making you squint your eyes, suspicious. He laughed at your reaction, then you quirked an eyebrow.
“Oh yeah?” You smirked, curiosity instantly replacing your melancholic inner thoughts.
“I hope you like it.” He kissed the back of your hand before opening the car door for you to enter.
The drive was calm, Heeseung eased your mind without even noticing he did. Just the smell of his cologne and his warm touches on your thigh whenever he stopped at a red light, and the habitual chatting that got you invested with ease worked perfectly to sooth you. 
At some point Heeseung nonchalantly revealed he was applying to switch to work remotely, and you genuinely cheered since for the last few days he complained about the amount of hours he had to drive, and the home-office modality helped him to have more free time. 
His own information faded out by himself in the following conversation as he changed topics, you barely noticed his sly expression whenever he glimpsed at your yapping figure, gesturing about how annoyed you felt when you had to do group work during your college. 
“What’s that?” Your eyes sparkled with the colorful atmosphere you were approaching, your whole body perking up as you watched some stalls passing by the window as Heeseung searched for a place to park.
Heeseung chuckled, drifting his eyes between the road and you, but not answering your question.
Then the realization hits. You shot Heeseung with one of your bright smiles, that got him almost giggling just by seeing it.
“You’re insane.”
“I thought it could be a good place for you to learn some recipes.”
And just like that, you fell even harder for him.
Heeseung took you to a cozy outdoor market filled with food stalls, a few street foods trucks and local artisans. The atmosphere was lively, with music playing in the background and laughter echoing around you.
As you stepped out of the car with his help, the scents of diverse foods flooded your airways and you almost groaned with pleasure, your stomach growling with hunger as your mouth watered. 
Heeseung held your hand the whole time you wandered from stall to stall, not even knowing where to start, but sampling everything from savory snacks to sweet treats, your senses dancing with the flavors and scents, doing some random love shots with Heeseung. 
He didn’t complained a second about the constant walking. To watch you lose yourself while tasting things, making pleasant frowns and doing little dances whenever you liked something, paid back any sore he would have to deal with on the next day.
Some people recognized you, asking for a picture to which you politely declined, and Heeseung instantly gave you a confused look, since you usually made time to give them a little attention.
You searched for a free table for you both to sit, and as you stared at the three delicious small dishes in front of you not knowing which one to prove first, Heeseung spoke up.
“Isn’t that your favorite?” And then he pointed to the tteokbokki, after reading your indecisive frown, biting his own food. “Start with this one.”
You looked up at him with shock, then your gaze softened. It was Heeseung after all, the man who paid attention to every detail of you. However, your still pulse increased, your cheeks heating. 
“Can I ask you something?” His voice broke the silence after a while again, and you nodded. “Is there a reason for you to refuse to take pictures with your fans today?” 
The question sounded curious, genuine at it most, free from the weight of any judgments. Heeseung was trying to understand your decision rather than impose his opinion on it.
“I don’t want you to feel uncomfortable,” you explained softly, wiping your mouth with a napkin. 
He tilted his head to the side, brows furrowing. “How does that make me uncomfortable?” 
You shrugged, taking a bite of your corn dog before answering. “I don’t know. People who hang out with me that aren’t from my area often don't feel comfortable whenever I stop to talk to my fans.”
Heeseung raised his eyebrows, a bit taken aback by the revelation. Of course people had their rights of being uncomfortable with certain situations, however, being friends with you meant knowing your personality and how much you enjoyed those small interactions. So it sounded a bit odd to hear you say that.
“Well, I don’t mind at all.” He said with a gentle smile. “Actually, it’s sweet to see you interacting with them.” 
Your lips curved into a genuine smile at Heeseung’s reassuring words, especially because at some point he was a fan of yours, so to hear his mind on that conversation hit slightly deeper.
“Thanks, it means a lot.” You mumbled. “But if you ever feel awkwardly left out–
“No.” He shushed you with a portion of his food, shoving into your mouth with a playful laugh, making you roll your eyes and giggle.
The rest of the night went as comfortably as possible, filled with laughter and playful teasing moments. The thought of your departure on the next day haunted both of you, but you managed to brush away whenever your eyes met, the atmosphere softening again. 
After you finished eating and drinking, Heeseung guided you to a quiet, secluded spot near the market. It was a small lake in the middle of a park, where a few other couples shared intimate affection as well.
Heeseung wrapped his arms around you from behind as you held on the railing overlooking the water. He rested his chin on your shoulder, his warm and soothing embrace caused a heavy sigh to escape your lips, and tears began to sting the corner of your eyes.
“You know, it's always good to come back home.” You murmured, voice tinged with nostalgia while you admired the peaceful view. Gently resting your back on Heeseung’s chest, you added. “And it's always bittersweet when I have to leave.” Your voice got stuck in your throat, heart pounding in uncertainty for your following days. “It became so much harder to leave now, Heeseung.” You admitted with a trembling voice, the tears quietly slipping down your cheeks
You felt Heeseung’s sweet lips touching your neck to place a gentle kiss before he turned you to face him. Kind hands caressing your face, cozy eyes eveloping your words with warmth and understanding. You felt loved. And it was hurting so much.
Heeseung cleaned your tears with his thumb, pressing soft kisses to your eyelids afterward.
“We can find a way,” he whispered, his own voice failing to stay steady. “I’m too attached to you at this point.” He admitted with a shy smile. “I know I said I’d make your days unforgettable, but now I’m the one who is unable to forget you. And I don’t want to even try forgetting you.”
A wave of relief rushed your body, happy for being on the same page, glad that Heeseung listened to you, overjoyed he shared similar feelings. You sobbed, snuggling closer to his body in order to feel him more, burying your face on his neck, the scent making you cry even harder. 
Heeseung hugged you tightly, yet, gently, his arms involving you in a fond, safe bubble.
“I can visit you during my free time,” he said to reassure you.
“I’ll come to visit you too.” Your voice came out muffled due to your position, so you reluctantly pulled away from his embrace to search for his eyes. They were red, as if he was holding back his own tears. “I mean, I don’t live too far from here, the problem is my work–”
Heeseung silenced you by attaching his lips on yours, not wanting to hear your “but’s” and worries at the moment. He wanted to envision a good future for both of you, and also he was taking advantage to kiss you once more.
The shared touch was laced with an anticipated longing, slow and bittersweet, still full of affection. Your breath hitched while mingling with the soft sounds of contentment, hands exploring each other’s bodies, cherishing every inch before the inevitable departure of yours.
“I’m afraid you won’t get used to my work,” you whispered, relieving one of your biggest insecurities when Heeseung broke the contact to catch his breath.
“What do you mean?” He asked, slightly breathless, mind hazy from your kiss. God, he really wished you both managed a way to get back together, if not he would go insane without your sweet lips.
“It’s a demanding job, as you know.” You explained, playing with his ear lobe. Heeseung closed his eyes, leaning into the touch. “I’m always traveling, I’m always going to places, constantly on the move… Even visiting can be difficult.”
“I know,” he replied softly, still not exactly understanding your full point. Yes, he would miss you, but he was sure it could be managed.
Despite, from the start he knew you were a busy woman, barely having time to yourself as you told him a few times. And he was willing to adjust some things in his life if that meant having you by his side. 
Heeseung didn’t said anything more, making you wonder. Would he back off after all of that? Or that meant he was fully devoted?
“And it doesn’t bother you?” You asked. 
“No,” he replied sincerely, opening his eyes just to lock them onto yours, as he brushed a little strand of hair from your face before he cupped one of your cheeks. “It’ll not. If you promise you’ll always come back to me.”
And you would. After all, by the end of the day, all you could see was his eyes only.
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Heeseung grew attached to watch you. Not only when owning the stage and captivating the audience with your talented acting skills, but in any other moment as well.
His eyes followed your every move, from the moment you frowned while waking up to the moment you fell on his arms, panting after him fucking you hard.
Yeah, you both managed ways of getting back together, with his now remote work, traveling around with you became easy. He missed his friends every once, and that led you both to constantly go back to Seoul and spend some days visiting, especially to see Jake and Sunoo, who freaked out when he discovered – through instagram! – his friends were dating one of his biggest inspirations. 
Now, in your brand new purchased shared apartment, Heeseung eyes tracked you wetting your lips while humming the melody of your upcoming musical, while doing some work on your computer. It was a routine he definitely could get used to.
And as always, you felt the sweet weight of his gaze, smiling even before searching for him.
“What?” you asked, laughing at how Heeseung positioned himself beside you on the couch; his cheek resting on his hand, elbow propped on the armrest, as he shot you a lovestruck expression – soft smile and tender eyes. 
“I love you.” 
Months ago, those words would have taken you by surprise.
You remember vividly how flustered you became, heart racing, stuttering on your own words, unable to cohesively say anything back. Heeseung joked about how an amazing actress managed to lose composure and not talk like that, and after you slapped his shoulder playfully, you kissed him passionately, mumbling what could have been a ‘I love you too’.
This time it didn’t surprise you, still, left you momentarily speechless. You would never get used to the electrifying wave washing over your body whenever you heard Heeseung declaring his love for you.
Just like you always did, you felt the heat rising to your cheeks under his intense gaze. Closing your computer, you leaned closer, settling yourself comfortably on his lap.
“I love you too, Hee,” you replied softly and sincerely.
You smiled, before kissing him.
Heeseung’s embrace was your heaven. Heeseung’s lips were your hell. And in between that, he kept his eyes on you. Always.
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“hungover” - hotch x fem!reader
after a girls’ night in, you wake up next to your boyfriend.
1380 words - FLUFFY FLUFF
cw; mentions of alcohol and food, implied age gap?, typical hangover, jemily agenda (sry not sry)
a/n: I wrote this on my phone on vacation bc I have a serious problem
———————
The first thing you notice when you wake up is that you are not in your clothes.
You aren’t in your clothes. And you only realize it because of the scent wafting up your nose. Sea Salt Breeze - the cologne you’d gotten him for Christmas last year - emanates from the t-shirt that envelopes your upper half. You dip your chin for another whiff, breathing him in deeply. You want the smell inscribed into your brain.
You feel the bed dip and creak and you instinctively shut your eyes, playing possum as Aaron pads into the bathroom. The door whines as he shuts it most of the way, not totally closing it because he thinks you’re still asleep and that the sound of the door shutting will wake you.
Each of your senses turns on one at a time, like your brain waves run on dial-up Internet. You open your eyes and the room is mostly dark, save for the sliver of light creeping in through the outline of the curtains. You run the palm of your hand along Aaron’s sheets and marvel over how soft they are - Egyptian cotton, he’d told you once before.
Your head hurts, but only mildly. You’d certainly been drunker before, but last night was still up there. Penelope made her mojitos strong.
You slowly sit up in the bed as Aaron opens the door, flicking the bathroom light off in the same motion. Your eyes meet his and he cracks a small smile. “Thought you’d still be asleep,” he muses. You love his pale blue boxers and seeing the hair on his legs. His calves are crazy defined - he’s a runner, after all, but still. You rarely see him in anything but a suit and tie, so it’s always a treat. “I didn’t wake you, did I?”
You shake your head, wincing slightly at the movement. Maybe you’re a little more hungover than you thought. “I was already awake,” you mumble, running a hand over your face. “Did you put me in your own clothes last night? I have pajamas in my drawer,” you point out, gesturing to the second drawer of Aaron’s dresser, the one that contains your set of pajamas, a few spare pairs of underwear, and a couple of emergency outfits, just in case you end up sleeping over at his place.
It happens more often than not, so you keep the drawer decently stocked at all times.
“You insisted,” Aaron climbs into the bed, reaching for you. He tugs you to him and you roll over onto your side, and then halfway onto your tummy so that your leg drapes over his and your palm rests flat on his chest.
You can hear his heart beating. It’s like a metronome, steady and guiding and calm. You feel his pointed chin nuzzle into your hair and then, his lips, quick yet effective, against your forehead.
Flashes of last night run through your head. You, Emily and JJ, over at Penelope’s apartment. A symphony of girlish giggles, talking about Emily and JJ’s upcoming wedding date, drinking at least three pitchers of mojitos among the four of you. Watching Dirty Dancing and gabbing the entire time, realizing it’d be a bad idea to drive yourself home, and calling Aaron to come get you.
When he arrived, you called him Hotch and apologized for him having to come get you, and he reminded you that he was Aaron and he was your boyfriend and he would pick you up anytime you needed it. You were determined to play the Dirty Dancing soundtrack on the ride home, fumbling with his phone until you found it.
You belted out (I’ve Had) The Time of My Life and demanded Aaron sing along. He admitted that he didn’t know all the words and you gave him a stern lecture until you started laughing so hard that you were in tears. Traffic lights reflected Christmas ornament colors in Aaron’s brown eyes as he drove, occasionally glancing over at you.
You swore you saw the corners of his mouth twitch into a smile as you berated him for not knowing the words to such a classic song.
And then, once you were back at his place, you sat on the edge of the bed and stared at your shoes dumbly until Aaron offered to help you take them off. “Laces too hard,” you mumbled, and Aaron just hummed in agreement before kneeling down to help you.
And then he helped you out of your clothes. He went for your drawer, and you threw a pillow at him. “The college t-shirt,” you demanded with these Bambi-esque eyes.
“Arms up, baby,” Aaron said as he slid his law school t-shirt onto your upper half. He saved that specific term of endearment for times like these, when he was taking care of you, when he himself was exhausted. You could tell he was, too, not only because he kept yawning, but because of that glazed-over look in his chestnut eyes.
You glance down at the words George Washington University, printed over your chest.
Aaron’s arms around you tighten for just a moment as he embraces you, and you dig your face a little further into his chest. “No Jack today?” You ask, your voice coming out croaky.
“At his grandparents’,” Aaron murmurs, and you yawn. He strokes your hair. “How’s your head?”
“I haven’t had any complaints so far.”
Aaron’s hand freezes in your hair, and you lift your head, smirking at him. His mouth has formed a straight line, but you snicker and you can tell he’s trying not to smile at your dirty joke. “Degenerate,” he calls you.
“Prude,” you tease back, inching closer to kiss his jaw briefly before laying your head back down. “It hurts,” you answer his question. “But not as bad as it could.”
“That’s good,” Aaron comments, his hand running through your hair again, gently, the world’s most relaxing and least effective hairbrush. It feels nice, but his hands are so big that his fingers snag on the tangles, accomplishing nothing but making you feel warm and fuzzy inside.
Nothing wrong with that, though.
“Do you want some Tylenol for your headache?” Aaron asks, and you just curl up into him even more. He’s so warm, and sturdy, and it’s so rare that you get mornings like this. Either you’re both working or Jack has a soccer game or there’s something else going on. It’s nice just to lay around with him, to be mildly hungover and pretend like that’s the only thing going on in either of your lives.
“That would require getting out of bed,” you protest, and feel Aaron’s arms tighten around you. He’s a very doting boa constrictor.
“How about I get it for you, then?” He offers, and you shake your head and shift all your weight onto him. He chuckles, a deep, throaty noise you know you’re only privy to for about twenty minutes right after he’s woken up. “So that’s a no.”
“That’s a no,” you confirm, settling back in to your original position.
You lay like that with him, in comfortable silence, for a few minutes. Until it feels like you’ve melded into one being. Then Aaron finally shifts under you. “Honey, my arm’s asleep,” he whispers, as though he’s afraid to disturb you.
You slither off of him, then clamber out of bed with no amount of grace, going so far as to trip over the corner post of the bed. As Aaron sits up, you exclaim, “I’m okay!” and hold your hands out to steady yourself.
Aaron stifles a laugh and you watch him stand from the bed and he walks towards you, steadying you with one of those gargantuan hands on your shoulder. He then lifts that hand to tip your chin up. You step forward in a silent dance, wrapping your arms around his neck and standing on your toes to kiss him. “Oh, shit,” you murmur. “I bet I have really awful morning breath.”
He just blinks a few times, and then offers you a shit-eating grin. “Yeah, honey, you kind of do,” he admits. You lightly punch him in the pectoral and then head to the en suite to brush your teeth.
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suguru-getos · 1 year
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࿐ husband neuvillette nsfw hcs (f!reader) ࿐
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you didn’t know when you got married to the chief justice that he was that good in bed. like? how? where do you get the time? :// honestly — it’s insane. the way he knows your sweet spot as if it’s what he’s been searching for all this time. when the first time you two did it, it got you dizzy and you cried at the overwhelming love & affection he showered you with.
peppering sweet kisses everywhere, your forehead, your cheek, your chin, right below your ears until he reaches your collarbone !! neuvillette loves to nibble onto your supple skin. gently suckling at the sweet spot on your neck until you get used to it, then switching to a harsher suckle, maybe a little teeth. it’s the territorial instinct inside him which gets him hard and turned on the moment he sees you all vulnerable and marked up.
he loves toying with your titties, he’d literally spend a lot of time on them. massaging them, kneading them with his large, powerful hands and marking them his. the way his tongue twirls into your aching bud and makes you gasp for more. yes, he has made you cum with just your titties alone. you didn’t know it was possible until neuvillette decided it is.
neuvillette is a dom inside out. a pleasure dom who gets off to seeing you writhe under him. you’d always be told to moan out. “come now darling, don’t try to hide your moans. i want to know how it makes you feel.” he’d slowly yank your palm off your mouth. “sing for me.” he cooes as he thrusts inside you, watching your eyes roll back in sheer pleasure.
breeding kink 101. i think he uses a lot of words and phrases like, “going to look so cute with your belly carrying our child”, “going to breed my little angel full of me, she can take it right? of course she can. tell me — tell me you want to be bred full of my seed.”
size kink -> it’s always hard for you to fit him inside, he’s especially huge and girthy, veins decorating his thick cock while he lubes your cunt with his pre. he loves when you get a little intimidated by his size until he has to assure you that he’d always take care of you & never hurt you.
despite him not being too harsh most of the time, he still insists on there being safewords. “don’t want this possibility to ever come true, but still, no harm in being prepared darling.” he’s fine if you make up your own safe word or he is happy to follow the traffic light system for ya.
sometimes though? you want him to snap. best method is to make your territorial dragon jealous. there are often events like banquets held in fontaine & as the chief justice; he mostly attends those. it’s more than easy for you to rile him up by being a tad too nice with others 🤷🏻‍♀️ he’d pin you against the wall, the same stern glare that he carries in court now attacking you. “seems like you’re purposely getting on my nerves darling.” he hums, leaning in and inhaling your scent. “going to make sure to take proper measures so this isn’t repeated. you’re going to like that too much won’t you?” oh yes you will —
he doesn’t do punishments, just funishments. you’d have to ask him to partake in those because let’s be real, you can’t possibly expect the man who’s simping for you so hard to think of the possibility of hurting you. you’d have to tell him you like the pain. 😏 impact play, edging, he’d be partaking in all those for his little darling.
he likes to particularly cockwarm you though. it’s the whole power play high of it and the desperation in your eyes which makes it exhilarating for him. “stay still for me yes? i don’t want you to not cum now. just because you’re greedy.” oh you love it when he gets all in control like that.
whenever he decides to spank you, it’s always going to be over the knee. he wants to feel you close, it comforts both you & him. the impact precise and calculated, watching the color of your ass change with a soft smirk. “you love this too much don’t you? ah~ i can see it.” fingers languidly touching your needy, wet pussy as the spanks push you over the edge.
aftercare king and he’s almost apologetic after every harsh scene. “you okay? sure? i want you to know i love you & you did so well for me. i’m so proud of my wife.” words of affirmation king 👑 along with a clingy cuddle bug. 🤭
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luveline · 7 months
Note
could you pleaseee do more hotch x bombshell reader
cw suggestive —you and Hotch have a shared secret you’re hiding from the rest of the team. fem, 1k
“He’s too old for you, you know.” 
You give Elle a charmed smile. “He is not.” 
“Is too.” 
“How old do you think I am, Greenaway?” you tease. “I know I look good for my age, but I’m fully developed. He is not too old for me.” 
“Who?” Spencer asks, placing down his dinner tray with a smile. 
“Gideon,” you say. “What do you think, babe, do I have a chance with our great leader?” 
“No,” Spencer says, giggling as he spears a dehydrated looking green bean with his fork. He’s getting good at recognising jokes for what they are. 
As the younger (but, despite Elle’s insistence, not young) crowd, you have complimentary avoiding of work to do, free with your employment. You spend your lunch hour trying to stretch it into two, driving Gideon insane, and prompting Hotch to come and find you. He hasn’t appeared yet, but when you check your watch you’ve got about ten minutes left until you need to get back. 
“The line was so long,” Spencer says. “They could reduce the foot traffic in here by half if they had two people working the register.” 
“Maybe if we had our own offices we could eat our lunch alone from a brown paper bag like everybody else does, and we wouldn’t need to line up,” Elle says wryly. 
“You don’t like lining up like middle schoolers?” you ask in feigned shock. 
“I don’t,” Spencer says earnestly. 
“She’s being sarcastic,” Elle says. “You couldn’t tell?” She looks over your shoulder suddenly, but there’s a velvet voice in your ear before you can turn around.
“Can I borrow you?” 
You smile because he can’t see it. “That depends, Agent Hotchner, will I get to finish my lunch?” 
You don’t have a tray in front of you. It clearly doesn’t matter to Hotch. “I’ll take care of it.” 
You’d let him drag you around by the collar, but that’s none of his business. You turn to meet his eyes over your shoulder, disappointed that he’s already a few steps back waiting for you to stand up. 
What Elle doesn’t get, what nobody seems to see but you, is that Hotch had no need to lean in and talk so close to your ear. He could have sent you an email, paged you, and he’s here in the cafeteria waiting for you to follow him out. 
You send both Elle and Spencer a suggestive look and climb off of the bench. Hotch senses when you’re near rather than looking, starting out of the cafeteria and down the hall to the elevator bank. He does a sharp turn you aren’t expecting to the photocopying rooms, where you refuse to go, lest you get killed by a falling stack of printer paper. One minute you’re walking together and the next he’s taken your hand and pulling you into an alcove, suddenly sliding his hand behind your back. 
“Aaron–”
He dips his face down and kisses you. It’s surprising and not, one slight nipping kiss before he looks you in the eyes. He’s asking if you’re alright to be kissed, and if it’s him, he can shove you up against a wall —you lift your head and he pulls you right back up to be kissed again. His hands slide over the tight fabric of your blazer and hold you chest to chest, his nose crushing yours, his lips unwavering. Pinpricks of heat ricochet from your mouth to your neck, a shudder he feels that has him laughing hot against your lips.
“That’s not very gentlemanly,” you say, weaving your fingers into the soft crop of hair behind his ears. 
“I’m sorry,” he says. He lifts his hand, cleaning the smudge of your lipstick with his pinky finger, before stroking your cheek with his knuckle.  “What sort of note was that, this afternoon? Why do you think that’s alright to leave at my desk?” 
“How’d you know it was me?” you ask, dropping your hands from his hair to poke at his waist. 
“I hoped it was you,” he admits. He looks like he might say something else, but he steals a rough kiss instead, and then another. 
“Okay,” you say, pleased to be kissed like this by him, “it was me. And you deserved it.” 
“Did I?” He takes your face into two hands. “Did I?” 
You stutter momentarily at his repeated question. “You– yeah, Hotchner, you did. It was supposed to be nice, like a promise.” 
“Are you promising?” he asks, giving your cheek a sweet, gentle stroke with his thumb. 
You kiss his nice jaw, ruffle the hair that curls over his forehead playfully, and laugh as he catches your hand. He doesn’t grab. Hotch isn’t ever aggressive with you (though he can get a little excited). 
“Decide what you want for dinner tonight, and we’ll go after work,” he says, returning your hand gently to your side. 
“Another kiss?” you ask. 
Hotch kisses you sweetly. “Come on, honey, lunch is over.” 
“Just one more?” you ask. 
He falls for it every time. You must harvest half a dozen extra kisses, incensed because it’s him, because nobody thought for a minute he’d bend to your whims. 
Hotch doesn’t bend. He just wants you like you want him. 
“One more,” he says as you pull away. “Just one.” 
It tickles your lips. You curl your arms behind his neck and try to make it one that’ll linger, your fingers scratching lightly at his scalp as he presses your back to the cold wall. You yelp a laugh and he covers your back with big hands, mumbling a sorry that gets completely lost. 
You don’t know how he’s going to explain this to Gideon. 
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abslvr111 · 2 months
Text
police officer wife!abby anderson
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cw. wlw (men dni), smut, nipple sucking, bondage (cuffs), riding abby’s strap, no outbreak au, (slight) size kink, this comes from my love of hot female police officers 💀 also haven’t posted in a bit sry sry gotta new kitten so i’ve been busy <33 + maybe a tiny bit cringe ngl 🥱
sum. riding cop abby’s strap while she’s cuffed and you’re wearing a slutty police outfit 😖
wc. 842 (wc goes up when it abby y’all 🤞)
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you meet abby at a minor traffic stop, pure muscle under her police uniform as she walks up to your car window, you look at her in awe (expecting her to be some middle-aged dick officer— not eye candy), until you start to get bashful: remembering your pulled over by her.
you forgot to turn on your signal, she’s smirking by the time she heads back to her cruiser to run your information, and she writes you a warning— as well as her number. you can’t help but smile when you read the paper, happy to text her once you got home.
your first date goes perfectly and by the second one she has you laid out on her bed, you can remember your first time with her like it was yesterday— your memories stay vivid when abby’s in them.
you fall into a nice routine with her, waking up to her big arms around your waist, hugging you close from behind, warm lips pressing soft kisses to your neck as you blink sleep from your eyes.
you’ll watch her get ready as you slowly wake up, eyeing her as she puts on her blue uniform, smirking at the cuffs on her belt, you eventually get up to start your morning routine with her.
she teaches you how to shoot a gun, her front pressed up against your back as she holds your smaller hands in her bigger ones, she helps you aim the firearm, and your fingers touch, wedding bands clashing together, abby loves every second of your shared target practice.
abby thinks it’s cute, this is the first time you’ve put on a costume for her, lingerie, sure. but not this, you’re dressed in a slutty cop uniform— if you could even call it that (the only cop aspect being your blue hat), dark blue bra showing off your tits matching lace thong clinging to your hips, and showing off your figure nicely. black fishnets go up your legs, they look good against your thighs she thinks, sharp heels ready to be kicked off are on your feet, and a pair of fuzzy black handcuffs in your right grasp complete your outfit.
she’s used cuffs on you before, but never have you used them on her, she can’t help but smirk from her place on the bed, amused by what you have planned.
“is something funny ma'am?” you say, tone authoritative as you make your way to her.
“not at all officer,” she says teasingly, playing along with your game.
“are you sure? because i think you need to be cuffed.” you’re holding the fuzzy cuffs up to her eye level now, you continue, “and punished.” your stance is almost dominant but abby’s still almost taller than you even sitting on the bed, it’s adorable in her eyes.
she puts her hands out in front of her, complacent as you slip the soft loops around her wrists. when you’re done she lets her hands drop to her lap, making herself comfortable sitting at the edge of the bed.
you’re smiling cheekily as you begin to unzip her pants pulling her pants off, needy as ever you’re already straddling her lap, inches away from grinding on the strap below her boxers.
abby’s hands come up to bring both cups of your bar down, revealing your tits to her greedy eyes, her lips immediately begin sucking at your nipple, earning a whimper from you, she’s squeezing your other breast with her hand. now you’re sitting properly on her lap, grinding yourself across her cock, your fingers weave through the back of her scalp, putting minimal pressure on the back of her head.
you pull the band of her boxers down just enough for her strap to spring free, you rub your pussy over the silicon coating it with your slick, slowly, you bring the tip to your entrance, easing yourself down onto till you hit the base, moaning as you do.
abby draws away from your chest, her lips and tongue on yours as you begin bouncing yourself on her, setting a steady pace for yourself. her fingers pinch at your nipples, it makes you whine moving yourself faster on her lap, you drag your fingers to over your clit rubbing fast circles.
abby parted from your kiss, you looked so pretty above her, she felt herself get wetter by the second while she watched you, she might have to let you do this more often, watching you get yourself off on her after she gets off a long shift was nice.
she felt your thighs start to get wobbly, your orgasm approaching, the little blue hat on your head tilts to the side as your pace increases and gets rougher.
you’re grinding down on her as you cum, leaning on her as you do, you’re flipped to your back before you can catch your breath, a snap rattles in your ears as abby breaks the cheap fluffy cuffs, she’s smirking down at you, and you know you’re in for a long night.
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rin-may-1103 · 1 month
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Just a Bite (part two)
Previous | Master Post | Next
Danny slid into the taxi and closed the door, not even a second later did the man merge into traffic. Sneaking a glance at the driver, who somehow looked even worse than Danny did when he hadn't slept in four days, Danny slowly peeled off the sticky note from the seat.
glancing down, he found Clockwork's familiar handwriting. (which he would like to add, shouldn't be as familiar as it is, but then again, he shouldn't be having tea time with him either.)
Do what you think is right, only then does your future look bright.
well, alright then. does that mean Danny should jump out the moving car? because he didn't think walking into some poor rich dude's house and forcing his company on the family was the right thing to do. He thought it was the most convenient at the moment, sure, but not the right one.
flipping the note over, Danny found more writing;
Do not jump out of the car, you've already come this far. Patience will be a virtue. This is worth the persue. Do not worry, there is no hurry.
"what the hell, Clockwork?" Danny quietly hissed, glaring off to the side and out the window. "You become friends with Ghostwriter or something? and what do you mean don't worry? I'm literally running from the government. if nothing else, that's probably the one thing I need to worry about."
Another sticky note poped up, this time stuck to the back of the driver's seat. Glancing up, Danny waited a second for the driver to be distracted before reaching out and snatching the note.
the only thing on it was a very shitty smily face.
what the fuck.
"this isn't funny, clocky!" Danny hissed again, glancing up to make sure the driver hadn't heard him. "mom and dad literally have my ecto signature, they only need a single hint of which direction to go before it becomes all too easy to find me again."
closing his eyes, Danny took a deep breath.
holding it for a second, then exhaling. Alright. Fine, if Clockwork isn't worried or against this, then there's no reason not to do this. (well besides the obvious one; it's rude to walk into someone's house uninvited and whatnot.)
"fine, but I'm only staying long enough to snag some food and then I'm gone, got it?" Danny grumbled, glaring at his reflection in the window. he didn't receive another note, so he leaned back and watched as the city passed. Slowly buildings spread out, and green lawns turned into green fields.
staring down at the smiley face, Danny shook his head, carefully he pulled out his phone and removed the case. shoving the sticky note inside, Danny put the case back on and put his phone in his pocket. it was dead, so he couldn't do anything else with it so might as well make it useful. who knows when Danny might need that little bit of ectoplasm.
A few minutes later, the taxi slowed to a stop next to a black gate and rolled down the window. "taxi 'ere, Mr. Wayne already paid me."
"I see," a strongly British voice echoed from the box, "come in." The gate beeped a second later and swung open, allowing the taxi to drive through. Danny glanced around the front 'yard' as they approached the looming building. Nicely trimmed green grass fields as far as the eyes could see, trees lining where Danny had to assume were the property lines.
somehow it was completely different from Vlad's front yard, yet still, Danny could only describe them as the same. Green, full of flowers and sculpted bushes and outlandishly garish paveways for their rich front doors. If Danny squinted he could swear there were butterflies happily fluttering around the sides of the building.
and Danny uses the word building here because that was not a house.
No, no. That building wasn't even a mansion like Sam's house. nor was it a castle, like Vlad's. It was an old building of amalgamated eras and themes. Danny was so annoyed his phone was dead right now, Sam would have lost her mind if she could see what he was. Are those eighteenth-century dormers right next to a twentieth-century skylight???
you know what? Mr. Wayne deserves to have all of his food eaten right in front of him. Who in their right mind would allow their home to look like that? And in the twenty-first century no less!
The taxi pulled to a stop; and Danny, lost in his Sam-induced horror, automatically pushed the car door open, stumbled his way out, closed the door, and stopped at the bottom of the stairs to stare up at the roof.
Taxi man sniffed and then drove off, his jaw cracking yawn echoing in the back of Danny's mind.
"Master Tim?" the British voice from earlier echoed out from the now-opened door. Danny's gaze dropped from the roof and down to the older man now walking toward him. the man hadn't looked up from his newspaper, still reading a paragraph as he stopped in front of Danny.
blinking, Danny glanced down at the paper. he might as well see what had the man's attention so thoroughly. Another article about Damian Wayne and the schoolyard incident.
Danny snorted, he remembered reading about that one. Someone had thrown away their copy and Danny had been bored. let's just say Danny was thoroughly entertained. he even had thoughts about how the kid had managed to sneak in a small dagger with how tight the school's security claimed to be.
"it had to be his belt, I just know it," Danny whispered, leaning a little more to try and see what the new article revealed.
"yes, yes. young master Damian snuck his dagger to school, no need for you to tell me how for the seventh time. Now, then." the butler, folded the paper and put it in his back pocket, and then, again without looking, gently grabbed Danny's arm and guided him toward the door.
"master bruce has been worried about your lack of sleep, you will go to your room and take a nap or you will not be allowed to share in your siblings' desert at diner tonight." the British man sternly continued, closing the front door behind them.
Danny blinked at him, then at the large foyer in front of them. he was so glad Vlad hadn't splurged on aesthetics like this family obviously had. Was that a crystal chandelier?
The British man, Danny was going to call him Gramps now, guided Danny to the stairs and then promptly let him go so he could rush off to find the source of a loud crash, but not without telling Danny (master Tim) to get some rest.
Glancing up at the grand stairs (covered in an obscene amount of glitter) and finding a large golden framed painting of the ocean with a for sale sign next to it, Danny made up his mind.
Mr. Wayne was a multi-billionaire, who allowed his ancient family home to be butchered. If he wasn't going to respect his home when Danny didn't even have one anymore?
Then Danny was going to honor Sam; The person who had dragged him into this hellish life of interior and exterior design (as well as the half'a life coincidently). And how was he going to do this, you ask? well what else, then do the very thing she's dedicated her time to?
Eating the rich.
Or in this case; their food.
and well, what was a ghost supposed to do when welcomed into an ancient home with ungrateful residences? Not haunt them?
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bonesandchalamet · 10 months
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you can’t catch me now — coriolanus snow
pairing: coriolanus snow x fem!reader
summary: when you want the plinth prize, and so does he, you’ll do anything in your power to make sure snow doesn’t land on top.
warnings: slightly unedited/ minor grammatical errors + snow isn’t that much of an asshole + minor tension between characters + no graphic details of death + SPOILERS TO THE BALLAD OF SONGBIRDS AND SNAKES!
a/n: typically don’t like to write for villains… but that movie has been on my mind since I saw it 😅
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when the plinth prize had a minor change in plans the only person you could look towards was him. snow. he had to have an idea, but by the reaction that took place, the way he shifted in his seat, he’d have had no clue. this must have been some sick joke. but the hunger games was all about discipline and viewers, it’s no shock the plinth prize money stakes were upped.
you’d have risen to the top and fought coriolanus snow every moment you could. academics were easy, but this? mentoring someone to win a game? this was a true test.
leaving the capital, leaves crunch beneath your feet as your pace quickens. how was this fair? to throw children in an arena to fight for their lives, that was one unfair choice the capital made, but this? was a cruel punishment.
you can hear his feet against the pavement. his pace was always rather faster than yours, which is why you’re surprised he hadn’t caught up to you now. you’d had booked it out the capital the second you were dismissed, but the dread of the next few days still lingered the air like bad perfume.
“y/n, y/n—“
“corio,” you finally snap. turning on your heel to face him, he stops. the air in his lungs catches when he sees the tears against your blush colored cheeks. you held your fight for the rights of the district close to your chest, similarly to sejanus; but you’d only ever been the one to push snow to the limits and make him fight back. tomorrow, your tribute could die and Coriolanus would win once again. it wasn’t fair how snow seemed to always win.
“you think I’m happy about this?” his question takes you by surprise. nobody was happy about this, but coriolanus’ songbird made quite the impression with viewers. you’d expected him to gloat in your face, a typical action of his, but todays far different. there’s an eery difference to the coriolanus you saw that morning before the plinth prize was changed.
“I’d expect you to be happy about your bird gaining you views and donations—“
“she’ll die by tomorrow, y/n. your guy at least has a chance to win. he’s strong enough to take on the others. you’ve got the money in the bag.” he runs a frustrated hand through his white blond curls. his bright blue eyes stare into your soul the way they normally do. so tempting to swim in, but you fight the current. you’re stronger than that, and after all these years of fierce competition, Coriolanus was not going to get you like this.
“I know your motives, snow. sympathizing with me isn’t going to get you far.” you spit out the words, spinning back in the direction towards home. if it wasn’t for the capital traffic, and coriolanus, you’d be home by now. you’d be in bed dreading sleep while you worry awake about the next morning.
“motives? can’t we be friends for once—“
“you want my alliance so my guy doesn’t kill her. I’m always a step ahead of you.”
he scoffs. he stands inches behind you, watching you eye the traffic circle for a chance to sprint across towards the grass for the home stretch. the comforting walls of your bedroom were waiting for you, but coriolanus and rush hour were adding to your time.
“alliance? if I’d wanted an alliance I’d have asked sejanus for help, since he has the money we both don’t have.”
it’s no secret to the two of you that money was tight. it’s maybe why you both work harder than the others, because college was in their futures, and your futures were determined by the outcome of the hunger games. the first time you met Coriolanus, you knew he was just like you. tight shoes, shirt that was far too big, and an excitement for the amount of food that capital had to offer. staring into each others souls that first lecture was when you knew coriolanus was not going to be your friend.
“so then what do you want from me? because once this is all over,” you snap your head up in his direction, his blue eyes piercing into your own, you can feel his anxiety radiating off him, “you’ll go back to hating me and begging for some of that plinth money.”
anxiety sits at the pit of your stomach. his songbird had run to the fans leaving four remaining in the pact on the hunt for her. coriolanus sits two seats away from you, his eyes haven’t left the screen since she’d gone into hiding.
“she’ll have to come out eventually.” you snap your head in his direction for a brief second, but his don’t leave where the four attempt to get her out of the vents.
you’d be lying to say you weren’t nervous for everyone in the arena. you’d hated how they were pitted against each other for punishment, and having to mentor these people made your attachment towards the games far worse. you couldn’t eat, you couldn’t sleep, and frankly if you could, you wouldn’t watch.
there was no exact plan when you met your tribute. he’d been shaken up from the past couple of days and just wanted to survive. you couldn’t blame him, and while you worked on some strategies, it was all up to him.
“she can survive—“ his words were a second too late when the clan began to rattle the vents, using pitch forks and other weapons to get her out. the dust was too heavy for the cameras to see anything, but you’d assumed they got her out by the looks of it, and everyone held onto their seats.
she’d appeared from the dusty air in no time. running for another escape, when Dr. Gauls trick up her sleeve rattled the arena. she had a way of twisting the games, and the game seemed to last longer than she intended: enter the tank the drones were dropping off.
“what is she doing.” you move closer to coriolanus, your voice in a hushed tone so the other remaining mentors didn’t hear a thing. he’s focused on the screen, but your eyes find Dr. Gaul and her wicked smile.
“if I knew, I wouldn’t tell you anyway—“
“there’s no point in bluffing, they’ll die anyway with that tank of snakes.” your voice is strained, the words come out slithery on your tongue, coriolanus turns his head in your direction for the first time today.
his blue eyes were a different shimmer. they bleed with anxiety, and as he rises out of the chair, he pulls you closer to his chest. he carefully lowers his head down towards your ear, mouth hovering over it, “I’m so sorry, but it had to be done. I wouldn’t look if I were you.”
slowly moving backwards from his grip, you run towards the doors. time seemed to slow down. you spot Tigris, she’s rising from her seat, a smile stretched across her face as her, and other students, rush to congratulate coriolanus on his victory, you can hear him calling out your name as the doors slam behind you.
your feet carry you. the sounds of the fireworks and the honks of the cars in the traffic circle don’t phase you, but you’re running to the only place that you know. the only place that’ll play fair against coriolanus snow’s twisted games.
MONTHS LATER
“so you do win after all.”
the sound of his shoes scraping against the floor are different. you used to recognize his patterned steps, the way they scuffed the floor because the shoes he wore were too small.
turning around in your chair, you spot the new coriolanus snow. the man who fell off the face of the capital once Dr. Gaul was made aware of his cheating. now, you sit in the University library staring a different snow.
“I didn’t have to cheat for it.”
he rolls his eyes taking the seat across from you at the table. your notes are scattered amongst the table, and you look the same minus the bags you wear under your eyes. university changed you. and district twelve certainly changed him. working through the ranks to move to district two, only to be summoned by Dr. Gaul for a second chance in the capital. he arrived home yesterday, and made it his plans to find you. which wasn’t hard, since you spent all your life in this exact library anyway.
“I learned my lesson. you caught me.” he raises his hands up in defense, you spot the marks against his forearm. leaning forward, you carefully wrap your fingers around his pale skin, “snake bite?”
“they aren’t friendly in the wild.”
a chuckle escapes your lips as you release his arm from your light grip, “they were friendly to Lucy gray.”
“well she’s not so friendly to me anymore.”
“oh corio, you should know cheating for a girl never makes a good impression.” you smile brightly. leaning back into your seat, you get a better look at him. the buzzcut suits him, bringing his bright blue eyes more to the center of his looks.
he exhales a deep sigh nodding in agreement, “I’m a changed man, thanks to you. you taught me a lot.”
“so what are you doing home, snow? I thought you were out of here for twenty years.” at least those were the rumors you heard. nobody spoke of sejanus or coriolanus much anymore, and while you worried if tattling was the right thing to do, you’re happy to see he came back a better version of himself.
“you didn’t hear?” he asks. shaking your head you gesture for him to continue, “I’ll be working closely with Dr. Gaul. I’m back to the capital, and I’m back to mess with you.”
you wish he could’ve seen how far you rolled your eyes back, but he was long gone after that, leaving you alone to study once again. you knew Coriolanus wouldn’t last twenty years away from you. not since he was practically in love with you.
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glossysoap · 23 days
Text
so mean
pairing: ghost/reader/trans!soap wc: 2k tw: 18+, afab reader, trans!soap, some afab genital terms used such as cunt, reader grinds on simon’s chest and johnny licks it, multiple orgasms/overstim to johnny, grinding, humiliation, mean simon. there's multiple check-in/safeword systems in place, such as the unspoken option to safeword (that no one uses in this situation) and the traffic light system. there's a check-in scene during the sex scene that is in parentheses. all lowercase because it’s 4am and i couldn’t be bothered to go and edit it. alsooo sliding this over to both @vgilantee and @ghouljams 🫶🏻 requested from @vgilantee! mwah ily i'm kissing you!!
simon's big body is all sprawled across the bed, bare and sweaty. you were pulled over simon's chest and made to straddle him, writhing and squirming in his hold the whole time.
your eyes were wet and you were sniffling fat tears, face warm in embarrassment. he just laughed and grabbed your ass, assisting you in grinding on his happy trail.
"fuck, simon-" you whined.
johnny is tied up in the chair in the corner of the room, forced to watch it all - with a vibrator taped to his hole. johnny's all whiny and writhing in his spot in the chair. his entrance was all soaked and throbbing, his slick dripping down to the chair.
simon's big hands are planted on your hips to keep you from getting up, moving you back and forth on his abdomen.
“si,” you cry out, voice breaking as you grind down on his abdomen. your cunt was soaked, and with every rub of your pussy along him, your slick soaked his stomach. it left his skin all shiny and slippery, even leaving the tuft of hair along his pelvis all shiny and wet.
“yeah, yeah. quit your whinin’ or you’ll get the same treatment as him.” simon grounds out, staring up at you with dark eyes that could only be described as hungry.
out of pure instinct, you looked over at johnny’s whimpering form. you felt the warmth in your core build up even more at the sight of him.
the scot was crying fat tears from being overstimulated, skin all flushed and chest heaving as he panted. his puffy cunt was raw and screaming, all weepy from having already orgasmed as the vibe between his thighs buzzed away with no end in sight.
he was looking at the two of you with sad dog eyes, all begging and desperate. whether it was from him being desperate to be included, or desperate for the vibrator to be turned off, you couldn’t tell.
“f-fuck, oh my god—,” johnny keened as he felt himself getting close again. he tried to squirm, to escape the pleasure and pain but his restraints kept him pinned in place, planted on the vibrator that was torturing his hole. "ah!" he wailed as his second orgasm crashed over him, his folds pulsing around the vibrator as he soaked it with his slick.
his whining didn't stop after he came, not by a long shot.
he seemed to be whining just to whine at this point, mindlessly begging both for more and to stop. his mind was all fuzzy and mushy, his body felt boneless and weak. his voice felt raw and aching from moaning, crying out and even screaming from his orgasms.
your clit pulses against simon’s abdomen at the sight. you shouldn’t be turned on by it, the sight of your other boyfriend all tied up and forced to orgasm over and over should be seen as a punishment.
your eyes stay trained on your sniveling boyfriend while your hips move again, your cunt rubbing along simon’s abs.
“yeah. there you go, you quit your whinin, realized what’s good for you.” simon smirked up at you, his hands never letting you go. they still guided your rhythm in which you rocked your puffy pussy along his abdomen.
"he looks good, doesn't he? cryin' and snivelin' like that?" he asks you, knowing full well you're too busy moaning to answer. he takes one hand off of you, just to slip between your thighs and rub your clit at a cruel pace.
“i said, doesn’t he look good?” he grounds out, fingers still toying with your clit. he was gonna make you answer him, no matter how pathetic you would sound.
“yeah— fu- fuck, he looks good!” you choke out, voice hoarse as your hips keep rocking and you grow closer.
he chuckles.
“sure does. d’ you think he deserves a break?” he asks you, talking about johnny as if he isn’t even there. “or should he keep going ‘till you come?”
you choke out a whine, a damn near mewl, at that question. you doubted that simon would actually turn off the vibe if you chose that option but even the mere thought of having johnny’s unbridled pleasure in your grasp had your clit throbbing.
but you didn’t want him to turn it off. you wanted to hear johnny wail again and see him thrash in his restraints as another orgasm wracked through his body.
“aw, come on. he’s all cryin’.” he croons, voiced full of faux sympathy. “take pity on ‘im, doll.” he smirks, as if he can read your mind. he knows full well you don’t want him to stop.
that thought is confirmed when you avoid both simon’s prying gaze and johnny’s fucked out gaze, and you instead close your eyes. you squeeze them shut and try to focus on the pleasure, your hips still grinding up and down along his abdomen.
“oh.” simon laughed. “you don’t really want me to turn it off, do you?”
you can only whine as an answer, suddenly feeling embarrassed at his inquiring, teasing tone. it’s damn near condescending.
johnny whines brokenly in the corner at your ‘answer’, knowing the torture wouldn’t be ending any time soon. the toy had been buzzing away against his bottom growth and that overwhelming mix of pleasure and pain that came with an overstimulating orgasm was already building up once more.
(simon whispers an almost unintelligible "color?" over to johnny, though it's an unspoken rule that if you need to pause or stop, you can answer it as well. "green, so fookin' green." johnny answers after swallowing to moisten his mouth. to be safe, you nod and affirm your own well-being to continue the scene.
simon hums, pleased at both of your check-ins. then he continues.)
“look at you. you’re so mean.” he chides, as if he wasn’t the one to pose it on you in the first place. “i’m sorry they won’t let me turn it off, johnny. i’m sorry they’re so mean.” he cooed, emphasizing the words as if he wasn't the one pulling the strings to johnny's torture.
fuck, that shouldn’t have made you moan out like it did. being mocked and chastised for ‘being mean’ made your pussy flutter and throb against simon’s chest as you continued grinding down on him.
simon’s hand left you for only a moment, as he reached beside him to his nightstand where a small remote control lay. he clicked the button on the remote control, turning the vibrator up to the highest setting.
johnny wailed as the vibe buzzed even louder, abusing his swollen cock and teasing his raw hole even more. his hips bucked and jerked as much as his restraints would let him.
he couldn't even tell if he was trying to escape the stimulation or chase after it.
his throat ran dry and his wrists and ankles grew sore from the restraints. it wasn't enough to draw blood or cause real damage by any means, but simon would take great care to rub tiger balm on them nonetheless.
you threw your head back with a gasping moan, simon’s degrading words and johnny’s desperate broken crying going straight to your cunt. you felt like you were going to burst at any moment, the warm coil in your stomach wound so tight.
“m’ sorry, johnny, baby.” you cry out, now planting your hands on simon’s shoulders to steady yourself while you grind. you use his shoulders as anchors while you rock yourself on his chest. “y’ just sound so good.”
johnny was too fucked out to respond coherently. all he could do was let out a gargled, choked out moan as the toy went to work between his thighs. his eyes fell shut and his chest heaved.
"aw." simon crooned over to johnny, voice sickly sweet. "but you're making them sooo wet. they soaked my chest..."
he wasn't wrong. one look down at his chest and it was so unbelievably shiny from your slick, and it only made your grinding even more smooth. it also created wet sounds with each rock of your hips, wet sounds that melded perfectly with the moans and whines that filled the room. the wet sounds made johnny whine even more, he was so desperate to break free from his restraints and lick it all up.
"why don't you both come and get it over and done with, hm?" simon asks, peering over at johnny's writhing form with a grin. "then you can clean up their mess. use that mouth for somethin' other than whinin'."
johnny cried out at the thought of cleaning simon's chest off, and the feeling of the vibe abusing his cock more and more. he practically salivated, feeling himself near his next orgasm.
you whined from that too. the thought of johnny lapping up your slick from simon's chest made your breath quicken, and simon could hear it. he smirked, knowing you were close and right on the same track as the sobbing mess in the corner.
"go on, doll. gush all over my chest, i know y' can." he purrs, moving one of his hands to reach between your thighs once more and rub at your clit again.
"simon, simon- fuck!" you shouted as you squirted over his chest, cunt pulsing as your orgasm crashed over you. at nearly the same moment, through the fuzziness in your brain, you heard johnny wail out brokenly, "ah!"
simon only laughed at both of you. all booming and mean.
"see? that wasn't too hard, now was it?"
your legs were jelly as you came down from your orgasm, cunt still throbbing and head all mushy. you let yourself collapse next to simon in the bed, knowing that in a few minutes, simon would grab a soapy washcloth and clean you up himself. your eyes fluttered shut for a moment as simon turned his attention onto johnny.
you felt weight shifting on the bed as simon got up and presumably loosened johnny's restraints. you heard fabric rustling and grunting, which you could easily assume was from his restraints being loosened and simon helping johnny get up. if your legs felt shaky after just one orgasm, you could only imagine how weak his knees felt after having his bottom growth tortured so much.
you heard faint murmuring as well, quiet whispers that you strained to make out. it sounded faintly like, "color?" from simon. and "green. green. green." from johnny.
a few moments later you feel a heavy weight climbing on the bed again, both simon and johnny this time. you open your eyes to see simon laying next to you again and johnny crawling over him, his blue eyes laser focused on his slick covered chest.
"you're a hungry boy, ain'tcha?" simon rumbles, watching as johnny lowers his head to lap at simon's chest. you watch as johnny laps at simon's chest just like he would lap at your cunt; hungry and desperate. he flattens his tongue and licks stripes along his chest. he goes down his abdomen, along the edge of simon's happy trail.
his blue, glossed over eyes peek up and you and simon. he seems so sated as he languidly laps up your slick and cum from simon's chest.
"yummy."
©️ glossysoap 2024. please do not steal, copy, plagiarize, translate, or repost any of my works without my permission.
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hgfictionwriter · 1 month
Text
Road Trip
Jessie Fleming x Reader
Summary: You and Jessie take a little road trip out of town. The fun doesn't have to wait until you get to your destination.
Warnings: G!P (girl penis) sex: hand job, oral (r giving head). Fingering (r receiving). Car sex. Semi-public sex. Language.
A/N: This is a G!P Jessie universe one-shot. Not part of the Control series. I'm also probably obliged to say - don't try this at home lol.
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During a rare long weekend for both you and Jessie, you decided to take a road trip out of town. You'd booked a cute cabin a few hours away and you and Jessie had been looking forward to this for weeks. She'd prepped a road trip playlist, you'd curated a stash of road snacks and mapped out the most scenic route to take.
The sun was just starting to peak over the horizon when you and Jessie hit the road. She navigated you through the somehow still congested city roads until eventually the traffic thinned and you were on the winding, open road through the forests of Oregon.
When you two weren't chatting, you were singing along to the music, Jessie now and then subtly bobbing her head along to the music or tapping her toes in time with the beat if she was really into it, quietly humming at most.
You drove past a particular landmark and Jessie recited various facts and history about it to you because, of course, she'd researched key things along your route. You braced your head against the window with your arm as you smiled softly while you watched her, listening to her excitedly tell you her learnings.
She wore her wavy hair down today, her black baseball cap on top. She wore a short sleeve shirt that showed off the subtle definition of her biceps and her muscular thighs were deliciously on display in the shorts she wore, her feet planted apart as she held the wheel with one hand, the other resting on her thigh.
You belatedly realized you'd gotten so lost in appreciating her form that you missed what she was saying. She caught your inattention.
"Are you even listening?" She asked, mildly exasperated but still giving you a lopsided smirk as she cocked her head at you. "The oldest tree in the state not exciting enough for you?"
You chuckled lightly, shaking your head with a smile at her. "Oh, I'm enthralled. Seriously," you went on, growing earnest as you rest a hand on her arm briefly, "I'm sorry. I love when you get excited about things. Tell me again, please. I was just...distracted."
She gave you a curious, sidelong glance.
"Distracted?"
"Distracted," you replied matter of factly.
"With what?" She inquired in a way that relayed to you that she had no clue how enticing she looked right now.
"Oh you know," you said as you leaned over in your seat and reached across to rest your hand on her thigh. Your hand inched inward, caressing and gently kneading her firm muscles. You spied how her grip on the steering wheel tightened momentarily and she readjusted.
"Oh," she said, veiled surprise in her voice as she kept her eyes trained on the road before eventually letting her gaze flit over to you briefly, her cheeks growing pink.
"I love how smart you are," you told her, your voice soft as you let your hand now wander up her leg, teasing the juncture between her upper thigh and hip. Your hand traced firmly along there, the tips of your fingers brushing oh so close to where you wanted to be. The loose fit of her shorts concealed what you knew was underneath.
"Uh huh," Jessie said absently as she shot you a look of warning. You continued to rub the inside of her thigh and held back a smirk at how she cleared her throat and shifted under your touch, straightening in her seat with another look at you.
You didn't hold back your smile as you saw a gentle curve start to form in her shorts.
"Have you ever had road head before?" You asked as you began to gently palm the bulge that was taking shape under your attention.
She exhaled roughly. "No," she said curtly, shooting you a brief glare. "Seems pretty irresponsible."
"That's too bad," you hummed in mock disappointment as you continued to cup her, feeling her grow firmer and bigger under your hand, the loose fabric of her shorts slowly being pulled taut by her swelling arousal.
Jessie swallowed and shifted in her seat while she shot you another discerning look.
"Would you like to try?" You asked, a lilt in your voice as you continued to rub her through her shorts.
She cleared her throat again and you caught how she dug the fingers of her free hand into her thigh before making a fist and released again, still digging into her leg.
You shifted her lap belt out of the way, then you undid the button of her shorts. She let out an audible noise, her shoulders rolling back subconsciously while keeping her eyes trained on the road.
"I trust you," you told her as you slowly began to unzip her shorts up and over the angle of her stiffening cock. She released a soft gasp.
"I don't think I trust myself," she corrected.
"You can always tell me to stop," you told her in all seriousness as you undid the button on her boxers. You stopped, looking up at her now and giving her room to actually halt things. She didn't, so you pushed the fabric aside to reveal her stiff cock.
A wave of arousal went through you, now you being the one to shift uncomfortably in your seat. You inadvertently licked your lips.
"God, you make me so wet," you told her. She let out a small breath, her head falling back against the head rest. You watched as her shoulders raised and lowered more fully as she worked to control her breath and stay focused on the road. You licked your fingers, the motion drawing her gaze and she groaned lightly, a smile tugging at her lips now.
"Jesus," she said with a subtle shake of her head. "This wasn't on my itinerary," she joked, a crooked grin now adorning her face.
"It wasn't on mine either," you said as you reached over and wrapped your hand around her length. She let out a low gasp, her shoulders sinking. "But you look so amazing and I adore you too much. I couldn't resist," you went on as you slowly began to spread her precum across the sensitive head of her cock with your thumb, taking your time, your touch light and teasing. You gradually slid your hand up her length and then back down.
Jessie let out a low groan and you saw her legs flex and one hand now clutched the fabric of her shorts tightly in a fist.
Her lips parted, her breathing quickened as you slowly stroked her up and down, your thumb still teasing her. You wore a carefully concealed but affectionate smile as you saw how she worked valiantly to keep the car steady. You began to stroke her a bit more firmly.
"Oh God," she said, her eyes flitting over to you. Her expression shifting from a mix of focus and pleasure to a goofy grin and a blush as she made eye contact with you. She grabbed the wheel with her other hand and reached out now to rub your thigh, wanting some kind of contact with you.
As you continued to touch her, you allowed a new bead of precum to form at the tip.
With your free hand, you unclicked your seatbelt. Jessie immediately snapped to attention, coming out of her partial daze and looking at you with concern.
"Hey, no," she said as she even wagged a finger at you. Without thinking, you grabbed her hand, bringing it up and gently placing her pointed finger in your mouth, sucking sensually on it, your head bobbing slightly as you locked eyes with her.
"Fuck." Jessie let out a shaky breath as she sat back in her seat again, dropping her fight with you. After a moment she managed to muster up a pleading look.
"We'll be fine, baby," you assured her. "There's hardly anyone on the road and it's pretty straight for a while." Her eyebrows furrowed further though she voiced no more complaints. "Just keep your eyes on the road," you instructed gently, a glint in yours as you shifted in your seat so you were fully facing her.
She let out a long, audible exhale and placed both hands on the wheel in anticipation.
You grasped her in your warm hand again, stroking her gently. You absently noted out of the corner of your eye the way her jaw clenched at your renewed touch.
"God, I love your cock," you told her as you adjusted yourself one final time before bending over and tracing your tongue around the head before pulling your tongue fully across and licking up her precum.
"Oh fuck," Jessie said, almost gutturally. You smiled before taking her fully into your mouth, closing your lips around her and sucking as your tongue swirled around her head furthermore.
"Jesus Christ," Jessie went on. You smiled into her as you heard her grip tightening around the leather of the steering wheel.
You continued to tease her tip, enjoying how your ministrations already had tension mounting in her body, evident by the flexing and shifting of her legs and the frequent readjusting of her grip on the steering wheel.
Satisfied, you took her further into your mouth, closing your lips as far down her length as you could, feeling the firm head of her cock pushing at the back of your throat. She let out a shuddering moan and you felt the car jerk a little - her hand shooting out immediately onto your back to brace you as she righted the car.
"Fuck, sorry," she said breathlessly, her hand rubbing your back apologetically before she grabbed the steering wheel with both hands again.
You didn't respond. You simply gripped the base of her length, rotating and stroking there as you began to bob your head up and down.
You heard Jessie let her head fall back against the head rest again with a dull thud as she moaned low in her chest. You moaned against her in response, the vibration and sound adding another level of pleasure for Jessie. She unintentionally began to subtly rock herself up into your mouth.
You continued to suck her off and you had to fight off the grin over Jessie's increasingly vain attempts to retain composure. She breathed heavily, blowing measured breaths, bright pink cheeks puffed out in a combination of exertion and concentration. Her knuckles were sheer white as she gripped the wheel and blinked rapidly, trying to keep her eyes focused on the road.
Her breaths started to grow shallow and shaky, her low moans transitioning into soft, needy whimpers. Though you knew she was doing her best to not thrust into you, her hips were subtly pushing into you with a quickening pace.
She was fully in your mouth, the deepest thus far today when she spoke urgently.
"I can't," is all she said as you felt her turn the wheel and brake, the car veering before steadying and slowing. You heard gravel and dirt getting kicked up under the car as she pulled over.
Now stopped, Jessie leaned back fully in her chair and let out a deep moan of relief. You lifted your eyes briefly to see her raising both hands to her forehead, arms out and head tossed back as you continued to envelope her with your warm mouth.
She soon placed a hand on the back of your head and you began to bob up and down, sucking and licking her more vigorously.
"Oh fuck, babe," she panted. "I'm gonna cum."
You were undeterred, continuing your skillful motions and relishing how her moans rose in pitch and frequency as she rocked into your mouth and bundled your hair tightly in her fist.
Her moans reached a high and she tensed up underneath you, her hips pushing herself deeper as she spilled herself into your throat. You didn't waver and instead you moaned as you swallowed every drop of her release.
Her hips began a slow stutter against you as she began to come down. You slowed your strokes and the bobbing of your head until drawing up on her length one last time, sucking as much off of her as you could as you let her fall from your mouth. A small grunt escaped Jessie's lips as you released her.
You sat up, her eyes following you as you swallowed again and wiped at the corners of your mouth.
"Fucking Christ," Jessie breathed as she lifted her hands once more, closing her eyes and covering them as she sat there spent, her legs spread wide, cock slowly softening.
You gave her a small smile though she hadn't mustered up the strength to look at you again yet. "How was it?" You asked smugly.
She groaned, peeking an eye out from between her fingers to shoot you a look.
"Do you really have to ask?" She deadpanned. You shrugged nonchalantly and kissed her cheek.
"Thanks for keeping us safe, by the way," you said sweetly as you leaned in again and cupped the other side of her face and kissed her cheek once more. "I told you I trusted you."
Jessie let out an exasperated breath.
"It's a miracle we're both alive," she said flatly, eyes closed again as she tried to will herself out of her post-climax haze. She had to admit this was one of the strongest.
She heard some rustling, but didn't pay much attention to it. It was several moments later when she heard a barely audible moan. Her eyes flew open and she turned to you.
You were already watching her, meeting her gaze as your head was pressed back against the head rest and you rocked your hips against your fingers that you'd snuck into your panties while Jessie rested.
"If you're too tired, it's okay, I can always take care of myself."
An immediate rush of energy and arousal coursed through Jessie's body at seeing you touch yourself coupled with the flirtatious challenge you'd just issued. Her groin pulsed as blood began to rush back to her cock again.
Jessie growled at you as she undid her seatbelt and shifted towards you.
"I can take care of you," Jessie professed, nearly through grit teeth. "You don't need to do it yourself. It's my job to make you cum."
You released a small sigh of lust as you continued to play with your clit. "Oh, it's a job now, is it?" You still teased, a bit breathless. Jessie gave you a mischievous grin.
"You know it's the farthest thing from that." She glanced down at her cock that was already starting to swell with arousal. She whispered in your ear, pulling your earlobe between her teeth. "Look at what just the thought of making you cum is doing to me."
With no further delay, Jessie reached down into your pants, her hand covering yours and moving with your motions. She smiled at how you moaned, bringing your free hand up to cup the side of her face.
Jessie took over for you, her fingers slipping through your folds, coating her fingers in your arousal. She groaned, feeling another rush course up the length of her stiffening cock at how soaked you were. She couldn't resist slipping inside of you with how wet you were, you both moaned as she filled you and you spread your legs further.
"God, you're gorgeous," she told you as she slowly pumped in and out before withdrawing to rub your clit once more. Wet sounds filled the car as Jessie did so. "Oh babe," her voice wanting, "you seem to have enjoyed that head nearly as much as I did."
You whimpered, grinding your hips down against her fingers.
"I love making you cum," you told her as you ran your fingers through her hair, tossing her hat into the backseat. Your eyes were closed in pleasure as Jessie stimulated your sensitive nub. When you finally opened your eyes, your gaze was drawn to Jessie's rock hard cock. You let out a needy moan.
"I want you inside me," you said, already starting to move.
Jessie pulled away, fumbling at the side of her seat looking for the controls to shift her seat back, her mind unable to focus. As she moved her seat and reclined it some, you were removing your pants and underwear.
Jessie grabbed them out of your hands and tossed them into the back seat before swiftly reaching out and grasping your waist, helping you maneuver over the gear shift to settle on top of her.
In the flurry of urgency and need, you winced as you knocked your head against the roof of the car as you tried to figure out the right positioning in these tight quarters. Jessie and you shared a short laugh.
"Hold on," she said as she reclined her seat fully to give you more room.
You wasted no time in sinking down on Jessie, her holding her cock in place for you as you did so. You both moaned loudly.
"Oh fuck," Jessie said, blinking widely through the pleasure that swept over her at being sheathed inside of your hot core. "God damn," she said through gritted teeth as she gripped your waist tighter and started to rock her hips up into you.
"Oh my God, Jess," you breathed, your head thrown back. "You feel so fucking good inside of me." You moaned further. "You fill me so full."
"Fuck yeah, babe," Jessie grunted as she began to thrust into you with greater force already. "You're so tight around me. You could make me cum on the first thrust, I swear it."
A loud moan fell from your lips and you leaned your hands on Jessie's chest, now looking down at her and starting to ride her. Her eyes rolled into the back of her head briefly as you took over, lifting up until Jessie's tip was stretching out your entrance before sinking back down and rocking your hips forward and doing it all over again.
"You are so beautiful," Jessie said adoringly as she moved her hands up to your rib cage and leaned up to kiss your chest.
The way you rode Jessie wasn't soft or gentle. You bounced down on to her thick cock hard and fast, with Jessie pumping up to meet your thrusts. You got lost in the moment, forgetting the confines of the space and hit your head again at the peak of a particularly wanton thrust.
"Shit!" You cursed, managing to not lose your rhythm.
"Oh shit," Jessie echoed, a brief laugh sneaking out though she still instinctually shot a hand out to belatedly protect the top of your head. "Are you okay?"
The moment of amusement and concern vanished as you continued to ride her, waves of pleasure threatening to overwhelm her as your tight heat enveloped and released her exquisitely. You braced your hand against the roof to anchor you.
"Just shut up and kiss me," you ordered.
She rose up to meet you, kissing you passionately, soon moaning into your kiss as the car rocked from your motions.
The lead up to all of this meant that both of your climaxes weren't far off. Jessie huffed in concentration as she stared up at your gorgeous form and did her best to hold her orgasm at bay. She tried to block out the realization that your cum was dripping down her cock and onto her thighs, maybe even onto the seat - the thought would drive her far too wild.
She was grateful when you began to whimper, the slapping of your thighs against her quickened and she knew you were on the brink. She sucked on your neck, not holding back like she normally would. It was just you two for the next few days, who cares if she marked you up.
"I need you to cum inside me," you begged as you bounced up and down.
"Oh fuck," Jessie breathed in reverie. She wrapped her arm around your back and propped her elbow against the middle console to thrust up into you more adamantly. "That's going to make me blow for sure." She shook her head in disbelief at you. "Anything for you."
You began to pulse, your core fluttering and tightening around Jessie's cock in a way that left her powerless. Within moments she was grunting, thrusting up into you as her own body tightened and soon indescribable rushes radiated through her body as she shot rope after rope of cum deep inside of you. Her hips jerked into you, all rhythm lost as the last drops of cum drained from her cock.
Jessie collapsed back onto the seat, you on top of her as you both took deep, rapid breaths as your orgasms faded.
"Jesus Christ, woman," Jessie said, unable to open her eyes as exhaustion took over her body in the afterglow of the second climax you gave her. "You're trying to kill me."
She felt you chuckle against her. "A simple 'thank you' would suffice," you teased. Jessie snickered and lazily brought a hand up to absently play with your hair.
You lay there together for several moments in one another's embrace. Jessie still hadn't opened her eyes and was seriously contemplating if a nap was in order before you both heard a far off noise.
You lifted yourself up slightly to peer out the back window and saw a car pulling over.
"Fuck," you hissed as you started to climb off Jessie, not remotely gracefully, honking the car accidentally as you did so and scaring the hell out of each other. "Oh my god," you gasped when Jessie popped out of you and a rush of cum spilled out onto her shorts.
"Fuck's sake!" Jessie exclaimed as she impulsively tried to wipe it away, but just spread it onto her shorts and hands inadvertently. "Oh God."
"They're coming," you hissed again as you were stretched out over the middle console trying to retrieve your pants that Jessie had so haphazardly discarded earlier.
"What the hell," Jessie cursed, her voice high in panic as she held her hands out in indecision before clueing back in and frantically tucking her cock away in her shorts and zipping them up while you scrambled to put on your pants.
She clocked the person nearing in her side mirror. She twisted in her seat to snatch up her hat and lay it flat on her shorts in an attempt to conceal the mess you two made.
You settled in your seat just as the person came up to the window. Jessie opened it and greeted him as normally as she could. From the way her chest rose and fell as she caught her breath and the heat she could feel across her face, she knew it was a lost cause.
The man took one look at you and Jessie, and the realization dawned on his face. He averted his eyes, scratching his temple before looking back at Jessie fleetingly.
"Uh, just saw you were pulled over. Wanted to make sure you folks were okay."
"Uh, yep. We're good," Jessie replied, her voice higher and more strained than she'd hoped.
"Yep. Okay, great," the man said as he began to turn away. "You, uh, both take care now."
"Will do! Thanks!" Jessie replied.
Jessie watched the man leave in the rearview mirror, both of you giving an awkward wave as he drove off. You both sat for a second before exhaling collectively. Jessie's face was beet red, she didn't need to check a mirror to know, but slowly a smile tugged at her lips. She glanced over at you, a blush adorning your cheeks as well. You held each other's gaze for a moment before you both dissolved into laughter.
You smacked Jessie's arm lightly as you gave her a playful glare.
"Hey!" Jessie laughed. "What am I getting in trouble for? You're the one who started this!"
You relented with an impish smirk. "Maybe so." You glanced down at her stained shorts with a nod. "Before we go, let me grab you a new pair of shorts."
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