#i had fun writing this even if no one reads it

[heegyukeluv]

your eyes only (lhs) - req

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”

“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.

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.

“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.

“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.

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.”

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.”

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.”

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.

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.

[suguwu]

WOULD THAT I: PROLOGUE

The Gojo boy doesn't have a soulmate.

When you're both children, you overhear him being referred to as inhuman, between his power and his lack of a mark. The next time you see him, you use a marker to write your name on his skin, too young to understand what it means.

You forget, but Gojo—

Gojo never does.

MINORS AND AGELESS BLOGS DO NOT INTERACT.

masterlist

pairing: gn!reader x gojo

wc: 2.6k

notes: thank you to my beta, as always! especially for putting up with my bratty ass and reading this early so i could post it earlier. this has been a fun fic to get started and i hope you enjoy the prologue!

content warnings: none. see masterlist for series content warnings.

The Gojo boy doesn’t have a soulmate.

You don’t think you’re supposed to know; it’s only ever talked about in hushed voices. The clans all speak like that, sometimes, each word a butterfly’s wing as it flutters from their mouths.

The servants, however, are louder.

One of them has a voice like a lark, a sweet, trilling song. It carries. You learn to hear her coming, to recognize her shadow against the shoji. You know the edges of her by heart. Sometimes she spreads her arms out as she makes her way through the hallway; her kimono sleeves flare out behind her like wings. 

“There’s something wrong with the Gojo heir,” she sings one afternoon, her fluting voice half-muffled by the shoji. “Those eyes of his—it’s like he can see right through you. And Fujioka says he doesn’t have a soulmark.” 

Another servant hushes her. “Don’t gossip,” she chides. 

“It’s true, though!”

“That doesn’t mean you should repeat it.” 

She huffs, grumbling something too soft for you to hear anything aside from the melody of it. The other servant laughs quietly before chivvying her forward. You watch until their shadows disappear, leaving only the hallway light to filter golden through the shoji. 

You return to your coloring book.

The Gojo boy doesn’t have a soulmate, but that doesn’t mean anything to you.

Not yet. 

—

There’s a boy in the courtyard.

He’s hopping from stone to stone in the koi pond, his snow-white hair glittering under the morning sun. He moves like a dancer, each step sure and swift, never once slipping on the wet rock. When he gets to the biggest rock in the pond, he crouches down, his back to you, and drags his fingers over the surface of the water. The koi rise to meet him, firework scales flashing in the sun. 

You watch him from the engawa, peeking out at him from behind one of the columns. You’ve never seen him before, and you’d remember him, with his starlight hair. 

“Who’re you?” he asks, not turning around.

You stay quiet.

“I know you’re there,” he says. “You can’t hide from me.”

He glances over his shoulder and the world goes blue.

It’s the cold burn of a comet’s tail streaking through the velvet night. It’s oceantide, relentless and unyielding. It’s a slice of the sky brought down to earth, heaven devoured.

Then he blinks, and he’s just a boy again. 

“Who’re you?” you ask, stepping to the edge of the engawa. 

He lifts his chin. “I asked you first.”

You introduce yourself the way your mother taught you, bowing to him shallowly. 

He scoffs. “You’re not even from the main clan.”

“Are you?”

“I’m not part of your stupid clan.”

“Oh.”

He stares at you, his crystalline eyes sharp-edged, all prismatic ice. “You don’t know who I am?”

“Nope.”

He rises to his full height, unfolding like an elegant crane. “I’m Gojo Satoru.” 

You tilt your head. The servants’ humming gossip made the Gojo heir sound ethereal, a fallen star that had burned away into human form as it plummeted through the heavens. His eyes are otherworldly, and you can feel the power rippling out from his lean form, as unstoppable as the tides, but—

“You’re just a boy,” you say. 

He scowls. “Am not.”

“Are too.” 

“I’m Gojo Satoru,” he says again, deeper this time, an intonation, a promise, a curse. His eyes flash, St. Elmo’s fire, a lightning strike of blue. “I have the Limitless and the Six Eyes. I’m not just a boy.”

You would believe him, but the last bit sounded more sulky than anything else. You’re about to tell him so when someone calls your name. You glance over your shoulder, but there are no shadows against the shoji yet.

When you turn back around, there are wet patches shining on the stones in the koi pond, an imprint of the past, but nothing else.

The Gojo boy is gone.

—

Your mother is hovering. 

She smooths down your yukata, chasing creases from the thin cotton with trembling hands. There hadn’t been time to change; she’d pulled you out of your lessons and hurried you down the hallways of the estate. 

“Bow low when you meet him,” she tells you, though she hasn’t bothered to tell you who ‘he’ is. “Understand?”

You nod. 

There’s a fine layer of sweat gleaming at your mother’s nape as she kneels before the shoji. She reaches out to open it; her kimono sleeve slips down, revealing the elegant curve of her wrist. You focus there instead of the opening shoji, the slow slide of it a hissing snake, coiled to bite.

The shoji clicks, a chime of teeth, its maw wide open. You take in a deep breath and step through, your gaze on the tatami mats. Someone shifts.

“Oh, it’s you.”

You glance up, directly into the gaze of Gojo Satoru. His eyes are as otherworldly as you remember, a crisp, clear blue framed in long lashes, like a snowy-edged mountain lake. He tilts his head as you gape, his hair gleaming bone-white in the sun streaming through the open shoji. 

You blink. “What’re you doing here?” you ask, and next to you, your mother hisses in a low, sharp breath. 

Gojo shrugs. “Dunno. The clan said I had to come and they caught me when I snuck out.”

The woman behind Gojo clears her throat. “Gojo-sama,” she says, her voice like the shivering leaves when the summer breeze stirs to life, “they’re a candidate for you to train with.” 

He eyes you. “Why?” he asks. “They’re not very strong.”

“Hey!” 

“You aren’t, though,” he says. “I can tell.”

You throw yourself at him.

His eyes widen, a devouring sea, and he grunts as you make impact. He’s sturdier than you thought; he’s slight, but it’s all lean muscle, even though he can’t be much older than you are. Your mother calls out your name, horrified, but Gojo is already recovering, grappling with you for control. 

By the time the adults pull you apart, Gojo is nursing a rapidly-purpling mark high on his cheekbone. Your split lip aches; you tongue at it and wince. You can taste blood, sour and metallic. You glare at Gojo even as your mother bows deeply to the woman.

“My deepest apologies,” she says, tightening her grip on the sleeve of your yukata and forcing you to bow with her. “I don’t know what came over them.”

The woman clicks her tongue. “The child should be punished,” she says, and your mother stiffens. “I would suggest—”

“No.” 

Everyone looks at Gojo. He thumbs at a rip in his kimono, grinning widely. It bares his teeth. 

“I’ll train with them,” he says.

“Gojo-sama—”

“I said I’d train with them. Now can we go? I want a popsicle.” 

The woman sighs. “Yes, Gojo-sama.” 

Gojo sweeps by you and your mother. He pauses right next to you. “You’re weak,” he tells you, ignoring the way you bristle, “but at least you’re fun.”  

He’s out the shoji before you can respond.

—

Summer settles over Kyoto, a wet lick of heat. Even the wind seems to feel it; it ripples honey-slow through the trees, barely strong enough to stir the air. Frogs move into the koi pond in the courtyard; they sing along with the cicadas’ sawing choir. 

“Catch it!” Gojo shouts as your hands spear through the murky pond water. It gushes free from between your fingers as you come up empty-handed, the frog you were aiming for frantically disappearing further below the surface. “You’re so slow.”

“Am not!”

“Are too,” he counters, holding out his cupped hands. A plaintive ribbit sounds out from between them. “I already caught one. It was easy.”

“You’re annoying.”

He stares at you, his blue eyes icy. “You’re annoying.”  

“You’re the one who came over.”

He rolls his eyes. “We train at your estate.”

“How come?”

“How come what?”

“How come we train here? Your estate is probably better.”

He shrugs, opening his hands enough to peer down at the frog. It glistens in the sunlight, the same deep green as the lush courtyard. It makes a break for freedom; he closes his hands again, his long fingers sewing the gap shut. “I like it better here.”

You wrinkle your nose. “Why?”

“I just do,” he says, voice flat.

You don’t ask again.

—

“Why are we here?”

Gojo blinks, his long white lashes sweeping over the sweet curve of his cheek. “Why are you whispering?”

Your cheeks heat. The Gojo estate is a sprawling, massive maw; you’ve felt devoured ever since you set foot in it. Even the golden light that slants through the shoji feels cold. There are ikebana arrangements lining the halls, the leggy, deep purple irises sculptural as they rise proudly from the vases, but it still feels like a mausoleum. 

“We’ve just never trained here before,” you say, taking care to use your regular voice. “So why are we here now?”

He shrugs. “They insisted.”

“Who?”

He dismisses the question with a wave of his hand, his long pianist’s fingers cutting through the air. You roll your eyes, long used to his occasionally imperious ways. The two of you continue along the hallways, you trailing after him closely, as if caught in his gravity, an orbiting moon. 

You almost run into him when he comes to a sudden halt. You peek around him—in the last few months, he’s gone through a growth spurt, one that your mother says will come when you’re his age, and he’s too tall to peer over his shoulder—and see a servant bowing low, her ebony hair glinting.

“Gojo-sama,” she says. “Please follow me. The elders are waiting.”

He sighs, a dramatic heave of his chest. “What do they want?”

“They didn’t specify.”

“Ugh.”

“Gojo-sama—”

“I’m coming, I’m coming,” he says. “Go tell those geezers I’ll be there soon.” 

You wince right along with the servant. Gojo’s disdain for the elders is not new, but it still unnerves you every time, as if they will come along and smite you down. 

“C’mon,” Gojo says to you. “Let’s get it over with.”

The servant clears her throat. “Only you, Gojo-sama.”

He glares, his blue eyes burning, a comet streaking through the sky. “No,” he says. “They’re coming.”

“They cannot.”

“I said they’re coming.” 

“It’s okay,” you tell him, eyes wide. “Really.” 

Gojo looks back at you. For a second, his mouth is a wound, tender and pink, but in the next breath, it’s gone, frozen under a layer of ice.

“Fine.” 

You bite your lip, but he’s already walking away. You catch yourself before you reach for him. He disappears down the hallway, his hair glinting like exposed bone.

The servant turns to you. “This way,” she says, her voice perfectly neutral.

You follow her to an empty room; she slides the shoji shut behind herself as you settle onto the cushion at the chabudai. You gaze around the room. There’s not much to take in; it’s wealthy in a subdued way. You fidget with the hem of your sleeve and then get to your feet.

You slide open the shoji leading out to the engawa; it opens onto a huge, lush courtyard. The plush flowers are weighted down by their own blooms, their stems curving like a dancer’s back. A shishi-odoshi rings out with a hollow thud; a few songbirds scatter, their wings rustling like leaves as they soar towards the sky. 

You step out onto the engawa. It’s still early enough that the sun slants onto the wood, warming it. You sit down and bask in it, tilting your face up for the sun’s sweet kiss. You lay back, your eyes fluttering shut.

A voice wakes you.

“He’s an insolent brat!” a man hisses. “He needs to be taken in hand!”

“He’s too powerful,” another man answers. His voice is calm, but you can sense the ripples in it, the thing lurking underneath. “We can only do what we’re already doing.”

You go still. They can only be talking about Gojo. Their footsteps echo; they’re drawing closer and closer.

“It’s not enough.” 

“He’s still young. Maybe we can mold him.” 

The first man snorts. “You don’t believe that.”

“No, I don’t.” 

“There’s something wrong with that boy,” the first man says. “Those eyes—that power—and not even a hint of a mark. He’s barely human.”

Their footsteps are starting to fade; their voices become murmurs. But you still hear it when the second man says:

“I don’t think he’s human at all.”

Then they’re gone, fading from your world like malevolent spirits, dissipating on the wind. You unclench your fists and find that your nails have bitten into your skin, little half-moon curves cutting through the leylines of your palms. 

Gojo shows up a mere minute later. He slides open the shoji with a bang; his eyes find you immediately. 

“C’mon,” he says, stepping out into the courtyard. His eyes are shadowed; his lips are pulled tight, an unstitched wound. He’s heard them, you realize. You’ve never seen him bothered by other people’s opinions; your chest aches, a pressed bruise. You open your mouth to say something, but you can’t find the words. 

He grabs your hand as he passes by you, tugging you along behind him, ignoring your surprised yelp. “Let’s go before those stupid geezers find me again.” 

“Where are we going?”

“Away from here.”

“But my shoes—”

He glances back at you and you drown in blue. 

“Okay,” you say quietly. “Let’s go.” 

He doesn’t answer; he just tugs you along. You stare at the back of his head for a moment, trying to make sense of the expression you’d seen flash across his face before he’d turned around again. You can’t understand it, but you know one thing.

He’s never looked more human to you.

—

The next time you see him, you’re prepared.

You uncap the marker with your teeth. You reach out for Gojo’s arm; he pulls away before you can grab hold, as quick as a darting fish. 

“What are you doing?” he asks.

“Give me your arm.” 

“Why?”

“You’ll see.” 

He eyes you for a moment, but gives you his arm.

You push up his yukata sleeve to expose the tender underbelly of his wrist. You start to write, laboring over each stroke of the marker, keeping it as neat as you can. The silver ink covers the rivers of his blue-green veins as it sinks into his skin, a childish tattoo. 

“There,” you say, finishing with a somewhat-shaky flourish. “Now you have a mark.”

Gojo stares at you, his cerulean gaze lit from within, the sea beneath the sun. He covers the katakana of your name with his free hand, careful not to smudge the still-drying characters. Under the shadow, they fade to gray, but they still glint and glimmer the same way real soulmarks do. 

You hum, pleased with yourself, cap the marker, and toss it to the side so you can start training. 

You don’t know it yet, but it’s your last session with him. He disappears into the dawn like a fading star, spirited off to Tokyo to continue his training. You’ve only spent six months with him. Still, it aches, a pressed bruise, but you’ve always known he would outgrow you; his power is a black hole, always devouring. 

Life, ever unmoved, continues on. 

The boy you knew fades from your memories, though you never forget him. It’s impossible, with the stories that come out of Tokyo, how he completes missions that no one his age should be able to handle. 

Still, you forget things. The tilt of his mouth; the cadence of his voice. He becomes a shadow of himself, a shade with burning blue eyes. 

You forget that you once wrote your name on the delicate inside of his wrist. 

Gojo, though—

Gojo never does.

[bunnys-kisses]

Your writing is so good! I hope this request is okay.

Could I please order some chocolate cake and shortbread squares please with some juice for Carlos sainz. Maybe friendly rivals. :))))

bakery menu

want to submit your own order? then hit up the menu! there's tons of things to order from it! i really enjoy making these and i love what ya'll have prompted me! so thank you! and for this lovely anon i hope that you love this story!

chocolate cake ("do you feel that? that's what happens when i think about you all day.") + shortbread squares ("you're just mad that that my cock fits perfectly in you now. must be a blow to the ego that we're a perfect match.") + juice (cockwarming) served by carlos sainz jr (formula one)!!

cw: smut/pwp, cockwarming, (friendly) rivals, driver's room sex, semi-public sex, secret relationship, a lot of kissing

"you drive me crazy, mi amor." carlos said as he started to unzip his driving suit, your hands were on him in return. your lips were dangerously close together.

"please." you replied, "i don't think this is the hottest you've ran." you leaned in to seal the deal as he got the driving suit off of his shoulders. his lips tasted like heaven, he even used the lip balm that you suggested.

you and carlos were like thunder and lightning on the track. he had the speed while you had the power. and together you made quite the storm. some would call you rivals, but when it was the two of you alone in the driver's room long after everyone went home, you were more like lovers.

it was late into the evening, most had gone home. and you two were supposed to be in your respected motor homes for the night. but george and charles were doing you both favors while you two had some alone time in carlos' driver's room.

"i think he went out to dinner." charles shrugged when an assistant asked where carlos went.

and george's excuse was the tried and true method, "you know how she always walks for miles when she's on the phone with your mother." followed by a laugh. you owed both of these men so much.

the door to the driver's room was locked and you slowly got out of your driving clothes and could feel carlos' gaze on your body. you knew he loved the site of you, your curves that you had. you could easily drive him wild.

"don't look like a dog, sainz. have a little respect."

he shifted in his seat on the couch and palmed through his briefs. he licked his lips. he leaned a little bit and asked, "do you see that? that's what happens when i think about you all day."

you watched him get his cock out of his briefs and relaxed further against the couch. his smile hung and you felt a stutter in your heart. you hated how he could read you inside out and backwards. damn, sainz. but yet you were enticed to come closer and eventually got onto his lap. the both of you near naked, at least your bottom halves were.

you even got yourself out of the printed socks you wore today. you were still in your sports bra while he was shirtless. you looked into his dark eyes and smiled at him, "see what happens when i think about you all day?" then smiled.

carlos palmed our breasts and pressed his face between them. he looked up at you with those doe eyes that could put deer to shame. he replied, "i can hear your heartbeat."

you combed your fingers through his hair as you rubbed your bare pussy against his cock. you swallowed, "i thought about you all day." you held his face and looked down at him, "i have to be honest. you make racing fun, my red rider." then with a little help you sank down onto his cock. your toes curled.

"shit."

"fuck."

"come here." you said as you pulled him in for anther heated kiss. you didn't ride him. due to the hour of the day (or rather night), you two could go slower. you could cockwarm him while your lips got familiar with his. you held his face once more and he wrapped his arms around you tightly. he gazed up at you almost with love and you smiled before you kissed once more.

you hated to admit it but, you liked cockwarming him. and if you could've been in the motor home together tonight without having to worry about being too loud for your teammates, you would've happily had the comfort of a shared bed.

at least there was the off-season. you had, without the prying eyes of the press, moved some of your belongings to his home. it was a spare lip gloss here, your spare retainer, there were a few more mercedes shirts in the closet. even a stuffed animal that carlos got you after you won your second gran prix (winning twice meant it wasn't a fluke).

"you feel good against me." he said with a smile.

"oh shut up, sainz." you arched your back a little bit as his cock nudged against one of your sweet spots and it made you feel hot all over.

he chuckled, warmth in his voice as he said, "you're just mad that that my cock fits perfectly in you now. must be a blow to the ego that we're a perfect match."

you looked down at him and held onto his face a little tighter, "oh, i've seen your cock compared to some of the others. i think that maybe danny or max will suit me just fine." you moved your hips a little and watched carlos melt a little, "if i want something that doesn't bruise my cervix, maybe your teammate charles will a work.. or maybe my own teammate."

carlos made a face, "you better not be running off into george's arms. if you know what's good for you." then shuddered when you started to move a little more. he groaned against you. he knew that you'd have to cockwarm him again and sometime soon.

you two kissed while you continued to move against him. he held onto you tightly while you rode his cock. the kisses became messier the more you moved against him. it was hot and left a fire in your gut.

you both didn't last long, carlos' dirty words in your mouth as you rode him on the couch. he said to you, "next time. next time i'm keeping you on me all night. sleep together like that. i want to wake up and feel you." he said as he groped your breasts. you could feel your heartbeat in your chest as you reached your climax.

your toes curled once more as you panted heavily. you pulled him into another hot kiss. you whimpered into the kiss while he held onto you, meeting you staggered pace. he groaned into the kiss as he finished inside of you.

you both slowed down and you rested against him for a moment as you tried to catch your breath. he kissed the side of your head with love. you held onto his shoulders and composed yourself.

"next time, sainz." you said as you patted his chest, "we're doing this all night. and it'll be after i beat you on the track." that rival streak was coming out of you as you gazed at him.

he chuckled and looked at you, "sure, mi amor. now why don't we get dressed before someone tries to find us. our lie can't work forever." then kissed up your chest.

"yeah, george and charles have done enough for us tonight." you knew you'd get an earful from your teammate, but at that moment when you watched carlos redress. it was worth it. <3

[jo-speaks]

good graces ft. quinn hughes

in which…

quinn hughes realizes you'll be okay, with or without him.

warnings: MDNI. brief smut (again, it's like a paragraph), mature language, mentions of cheating, and i think that's all.

track three in short n' sweet (hughes brothers version) series!

When I love you, I'm sweet like an angel

Drawin' hearts 'round our names

And dreamin' of writing vows, rockin' cradles

“What’re you doing?” Quinn asked, wrapping his arms behind you as you shut the oven door, leaving the sweet treat you made to bake.

You took off your oven mitt before sighing and leaning back into his hold. “Baking cookies. You said you wanted some this morning, right?

He let out a soft laugh, “Yeah. How did you hear that though?”

“It’s not like you’re quiet when you’re on the phone with Conor.”

Quinn rolled his eyes playfully, dismissing your comment about how comfortable he was when talking to his teammate. He set one of his hands to lean back against the kitchen island where he felt a piece of paper under his palm. He furrowed his eyebrows, creasing the sheet slightly to pick it up. 

After a quick examination, he realized it was the recipe you had written down for the cookies. In the top corner of it, he saw his initials next to yours, enclosed in a heart. Quinn felt a warm feeling in his chest knowing you had done that, not caring if he saw it or not.

He held the paper in front of your face, which you had buried in the crease of his right elbow. “What’s this?”

You traced your eyes over the paper, “The recipe for the cookies? Don’t tell me you can’t read all of a sudden.” He gave you a thin-lipped look before tapping his finger over the childish drawing causing your eyebrows to lift in realization. “Oh, that. Got bored, thought it was cute. Something we could show the kids.”

Now it was his eyebrows that rose, “Kids? Like our kids?”

“Yeah, two of them. One of each. We can have them after our billion-dollar wedding.” You stated that like it was the most obvious thing in the world. 

Quinn knew you weren’t entirely serious. The two of you had this conversation a few months ago and he knew you wanted him to focus on his hockey career while you focused on your career. You both agreed you didn’t want to rush into anything until you were settled. And since Vancouver had been his home for 6 years and yours for 5 of those when you decided to move in with him, maybe it was time to start putting down those roots together.

Don't mistake my nice for naive

“Y/N, please. You’re being ridiculous. You were the one who told me to come in the first place!” Quinn called out to you as you walked away from him.

You stopped and turned back to face him, “Because I thought you’d have fun celebrating with your team here! Not flirt with the bartender the whole night!”

He rolled his eyes, setting you off even more. “I wasn’t flirting with her! I was getting Brock his drink!”

“Whatever, Quinn. I’m going home.” You sighed, not wanting to continue arguing with him in front of a bunch of people.

“I wasn’t flirting.” He mumbled, defeated.

You almost felt bad for reacting the way you did, but you knew him. The half smile and constant nodding all while keeping his eyes on her lips as they moved. 

You weren’t stupid.

I don't waste a second, I know lots of guys

You do somethin' suspect, this cute ass bye-bye

Like, ooh

Baby, you say you really like it being mine?

So let me give you some advice

After the whole bar argument, you decided to repay the favour a few days later when you had gone out to that same bar with your girlfriends. The same night you knew the Canucks would be celebrating their victory there. You watched the door attentively before a tap on your shoulder caught your attention.

“Y/N, this is Josh. He thought you were cute!” Was the only thing your friend said before walking away. The stumbling in her steps was the only thing you needed to explain the situation. 

Josh rubbed the back of his neck awkwardly as he placed his drink down on the bar and took the seat next to you. He cleared his throat, “Hey. Pretty interesting friend you have there.”

You snorted, “Tell me about it. You should see her sober, she’s still the same way.”

He laughed, “So, what’s a pretty girl like you doing sitting alone?”

Before you could answer, you heard the bar erupt in whistles and clapping. You didn’t even have to turn your head to know who had walked in. Josh glanced over your shoulder, getting a view of the team himself. His focus came back to you when you tilted your head to interrupt his view. 

“Sorry.”

“It’s fine. But to answer your question, I’m just here because I’m pissed at my boyfriend.”

You noticed his face drop before returning to the way it was before, “No way. I’m here because I’m pissed at my girlfriend!”

Your eyes widened at his confession, letting out a small chuckle. “Yikes, you’re an asshole.”

“Yeah?” He propped his arm on the bar, “How are you not?”

“Well for starters, I’m not approaching anyone. Second, my boyfriend just got here, so he knows where I am. And it doesn’t take a genius to know that your girlfriend has no idea where you are.” You answered, seeing the team take a seat at the tables next to where you were sitting.

As Josh sat in front of you, stunned at your words, you caught your boyfriend's eyes. He took a double take, not realizing it was you the first time. You looked away, bringing your attention back to the man in front of you as Quinn kept his on you.

“Who’s your boyfriend?” Josh asked.

You smirked slightly, “Quinn Hughes.

Josh’s eyes widened, “Bullshit.”

Shrugging your shoulders, you placed a hand on his shoulder, pulling him closer so you could talk in his ear and look over it to lock eyes with Quinn. “Don’t believe me? You’ll see who walks over to you when I leave.”

You backed up and got off your stool, heading to the bathroom as you kept eye contact with your boyfriend as you passed him. After you did, you heard him get up, his footsteps going the opposite way from where you were heading.

~

“What the fuck was that,” Quinn grumbled as he got into his car.

You shrugged your shoulders, “I have no idea what you’re talking about.”

Quinn scoffed, “This is fucking gold, Y/N. You were all over my ass for doing the same shit on Tuesday, but when you do it’s all good.”

“Yeah, no. See, the difference between what I did tonight and what you did earlier this week is that I actually wasn’t flirting, I just wanted you to see what it was like to feel how I did when I saw you actually flirting with someone else.” You retorted, knowing how ridiculous the words coming out of your mouth sounded to him.

Yet on some level, Quinn knew you were right. He sighed before reaching over the center console to take hold of your hand. 

“I’m sorry. I wasn’t sober, but I still knew what I was doing. I don’t want to lose you over this, so please tell me what I can do to make it up to you.” He whispered.

You turned to look at him, “You like being my boyfriend?”

He nodded.

“Then don’t lie to me.”

Boy, it's not that complicated

You should stay in my good graces

Or I'll switch it up like that so fast

'Cause no one's more amazin'

At turnin' lovin' into hatred x2

I won't give a fuck about you x3

That was cool

I won't give a fuck about you (Oh) x3

Yeah

“She’s the last person I’d want to piss off,” Jack told his brother over the phone as Quinn finished up telling him the whole bar fiasco the two of you had gone through a month ago. 

“Tell me about it. I’m not just saying this because she’s my girlfriend, but she’s literally always right. It’s getting scary.” Quinn confessed, pulling his car into the parking garage of the apartment complex.

Jack sighed, “Well, shit. Good luck with that, bro. Lukey’s calling you later, I gotta go.” 

Quinn said goodbye to his brother, hanging up the phone as he stepped out of his car, grabbing the bouquet of flowers he had gotten you for no reason. After the whole situation, he knew he couldn’t only make it up with verbal apologies. So he went old-school, settling for getting you flowers whenever he felt like they were needed. 

He stepped into the elevator, rocking back and forth on his heels as he reached your floor, walking out the second the doors opened. 

As he unlocked the front door of your shared apartment, he could hear you talking in the kitchen. 

“Yeah, I don’t know. I didn’t want to forgive him, but he’s making up for it.” You said to whoever you were talking to over the phone. 

Quinn stepped in quietly, your back still turned and your AirPods in your ears as you cooked dinner for the two of you. Still unbeknownst to you, Quinn walked to the hallway across from the kitchen, wanting to hear your conversation. 

Was it wrong to eavesdrop on you? Yes. Did Quinn know this? Also yes. Did he care? Not really. 

You let out a sigh, “Listen. He knows better than to do that to me. He also knows that I’m the last person he wants to fuck with because I can switch up incredibly fast. If he wants to cheat on me, he can go right ahead. But he knows damn well I’ll be out replacing him that same night.”

His face dropped. He knew that you were telling the truth, which is what scared him straight. 

“I don’t give a fuck if he wants to go out with Bella Hadid. If he does that without breaking up with me, I’m going straight to his mother and maybe even social media if I’m feeling petty enough.” You laughed, but there was nothing you were joking about. 

By now, Quinn wanted to ignore any woman that came his way.

“Don’t get me wrong, I love him so much. So much to the point where I would get down on my knee and propose to him. But, if so much as lies to me about anyone or anything, he’s gonna need a good lawyer.”

I'll tell the world you finish your chores prematurely

Quinn lined himself up in between your legs, pushing into you completely in one swift movement. You let out a breathy moan as your nails dug into his biceps. He didn’t move, letting not only you but himself adjust to the feeling. 

“Fuck, Q. You feel so good.” You mumbled, your brain foggy from the feeling of him being buried inside of you.

He mumbled something you didn’t quite understand before pulling out almost all the way before thrusting back into you completely. He did this a few more times before letting out a guttural groan, spilling into you.

This caught you completely off guard. Quinn had never finished this quickly before nor had he cum before you did. When he came to, he realized what had happened.

“Shit.” He mumbled, too embarrassed to move or even look you in the eyes.

You cleared your throat, pressing a soft kiss to kiss lips. “It’s fine, babe.” You pushed his body back, pushing him out of you. “I can just use my hand.”

He shook his head, finding his voice once again. “No, let me do it. I don’t- I don’t know what happened.”

Break my heart and I swear I'm movin' on

With your favorite athlete

Shoot his shot every night

Want you every second, don't need other guys

You were scrolling on your phone, swiping up on all the notifications you were getting from Instagram, seeing as you had just posted. 

Quinn was featured in a few of the pictures, drawing the attention of his friends and fans to your account. Your head was propped up on Quinn’s lap as you lay on the couch as he played his video game on the living room TV. 

One notification caught your eye as you furrowed your eyebrows seeing the DM request that had come through. 

‘rjosi90 wants to send you a message.’

“Hey babe? Who’s this?” You asked, turning your phone around to show him the account.

He paused his game, looking down to look. “You don’t know who Roman Josi is? He was that guy you met at the awards ceremony, remember?”

“Oh! The one you never shut up about!” You teased as soon as you remembered the name.

Quinn rolled his eyes, nodding at your words before resuming his game but keeping his attention on your conversation. “What did he send you?”

You opened the message, your eyes widening as you internally debated on telling him the truth, not knowing how he would react. But, you knew you wouldn’t want him lying to you if he got the same message from another woman, so you decided to be honest.

“He said he thinks I’m pretty and that you’re a lucky guy.” You read, eyes quickly flashing back to Quinn.

His cheeks were red and his eyebrows were knitted together. You looked at his hands, which were now gripping his controller so tight that his knuckles were going white. “Are you gonna respond?”

Hesitantly, you shook your head, “Not if you don’t want me to.” 

Quinn had never been an insecure person, but he wasn’t always confident. And your delayed reaction probably didn’t help. You let out a breath before grabbing the controller out of his grip and setting it to the side. 

You sat up, swinging your legs on either side of his lap and taking his face in between your hands. “Hey. I want you. Only you.”

You pressed a kiss on his lips which he barely returned out of his own frustration. Pulling back, you started to litter kisses all over his face in an attempt to cheer him up. Trailing from his lips to his cheeks, then to his jaw, and stopping on his neck. You sucked on a sweet spot that caused his hands to come up and settle on your hips. 

“I don’t want anyone but you, Quinn.”

You do somethin' sus, kiss my cute ass bye

As you stepped into his room, he quickly shut off his phone and turned it face down. You furrowed your eyebrows as you stood in the doorway.

“Am I interrupting something?” You questioned.

He shook his head rapidly, clearing his throat as he rubbed his hands together before walking over to you. “Just caught me off guard.”

You scanned his face. His cheeks were flushed and his face was sweaty. Not wanting the answer you thought it was, you gave him a look before speaking again. “Was just gonna ask if you wanted to watch a movie with me. But if you’re… busy, I can just watch it by myself.” 

Quinn cleared his throat, “Uh, yeah. Let me just do something really quick and I’ll be right out.”

You simply shook your head, walking out of his room and heading back to your room and laying down on your bed with your laptop in front of you as you curled up in a blanket waiting for your boyfriend.

Even though the two rooms were separated by a small hallway, the walls were still relatively thin. You heard his door open and close but his feet remained still. You could hear the noise of his phone keyboard in front of your door, typing one last thing out before he walked into your room.

“So what movie are we watching, pretty girl?” He asked, setting his phone on your bedside table.

You eyed his phone before looking at him, “Everything okay?” 

He gave you a confused look, “Yeah, why?”

“Sounded like you were typing something important.” You shrugged, not wanting to make a big deal out of what could be nothing.

But, his wide eyes told you everything you needed to know. You sat up, raising your eyebrows in a way that said “Tell me what’s going on.”

Quinn shifted on his feet. “My ex texted me. She was saying she wanted to meet me for dinner and…” He cut himself off.

“And what?” You pressed.

“She wants to try again.”

You scoffed, “Okay. What did you say?”

He took a breath before answering, “I told her about us and that I’ll pass on the dinner because I’m very happy with you.” The way his words came out, you didn’t fully believe him. Yet at the same time, his face and body language told you he was telling the truth. You could tell he was nervous telling you, but you knew he wasn’t lying.

You nodded your head, “Okay.”

“Okay? What does that mean? I can show you the texts if you want!” He rambled.

Pulling him down onto the bed with you, you wrapped the blanket around him as well before setting the laptop in a way where you could both see it while lying down.

“I trust you, Q. If you say that’s what you told her, I believe you.” You whispered.

Boy, it's not that complicated

You should stay in my good graces

Or I'll switch it up like that so fast

'Cause no one's more amazin'

At turnin' lovin' into hatred x2

I won't give a fuck about you x3

Oh, no

I won't give a fuck about you (Oh) x3 

Oh

No, I won't

I won't give a fuck about you, no, I won't

(I won't, I won't, I won't) x2

Quinn sat in the parking lot of Roger’s Arena. You had driven home early, wanting to beat the traffic seeing as the score by the middle of the third period was 0-4. 

The loss of the game and your going home early left Quinn thinking. 

You didn’t need him. 

Sure, you loved him and you loved living with him and the company and affection he gave you, but at the end of the day, you were completely fine being alone. 

The realization had Quinn wiping a few stray tears from his cheeks as he started up the engine of his car. He drove back in silence, hoping you’d be showering and in bed by the time he got home. 

As he focused on the scenery around him in the late hours of the night, that feeling of sadness fizzled into a feeling of relief. If for whatever reason Quinn left you, you would be okay. And now that he understood that, he became even more determined not to lose you.

Because regardless, Quinn Hughes didn’t want to live in a world where you weren’t his.

[katkat030]

There’s a fond tilt to his lips as he begins carding his fingers through Bdubs’ hair, the sensation of the strands slipping through his fingers and the weight of the head pillowed on his chest grounding. It feels right, just so, a surety that seeps into his bones and nestles there. With Bdubs curled up on the grass beside him, face turned outwards and the sleepy smile tugging at his expression just barely peeking out from beneath the arm thrown over his eyes, the irony isn’t lost on him.

Six months in the making! :) An Ethubs-focused one shot based on @shepscapades' Detroit Become Hermitcraft au!

[minminbunny]

Stalker X Stalker AU - Lurker! Han Jisung/Exhibitionist Gender Neutral! Reader

*smut part - AFAB/AMAB

💕Drabble Masterlist

❤️Ultimate Masterlist

You furrowed your eyebrows, walking down the stairs to open your front door. The doorbell rang but when you opened it, no one was there. Only a pretty little box sat on your welcome mat. You looked around and picked it up, your name was written on the tag. 'Can't be wrong address then,' you thought, bringing the box in. You tugged on the ribbon and opened it. Your heart sank at the contents, a bloody letter. 

At least what you initially thought was blood, there wasn't a familiar metallic smell, it smelled closer to strawberry jam. You took a whiff and it was indeed strawberry jam. You stifled a chuckle and placed the letter aside, further within the box was a quokka plush, and it smelled like cologne. You brought it to your nose and melted, deep subtle musky, more floral than anything. "This isn't so bad," you murmured, looking deeper within the box, only to find a bracelet, it had a singular charm. It was about time you checked the letter, it wrote:

"To my precious love,

If you're reading this, you received my gift. I may have been eating a jelly sandwich while thinking of what to write. I hope the gifts are to your liking. The bracelet is incomplete, but don't worry. This isn't the only gift. One day it'll be complete with me by your side.

Yours Truly,

J.One"

You stared at the alias, trying to figure out who your secret admirer is. Maybe he's near, maybe he's long distance, you would never know. You held the quokka plush close, "I hope to see you too," you whispered, stroking the fur. Jisung gulped, watching the whole unboxing through a video camera he installed around the house. The cameras were installed during the previous tenant and they didn't tell you. 

It was a surprise to him when he saw you move in. His heart pounded, his pupils dilated, it was love at first sight. Even through a PC screen. Jisung released a shaky breath, relieved that you liked the gift. He already had them planned to send out on specific days "Wait for me, baby. I'll be there at the end of all of this," he whispered, watching you with a lovesick gaze. 

You knew there were cameras but you didn't bother to turn them off. You liked being watched, liked pretending you were in a show like the office where the camera pans to the person. It was fun, and you had access to them too, so it did serve as a security feature. The one in your bedroom was odd but it only spurred on your filthy desires. 

You wanted to be on display but being a cam person or an only fans model might hinder your working experience. It was a risk you weren't willing to take. You plopped yourself onto the bed, quokka plush in arms as you looked into the camera, "I know you're watching me," you feint afraid, clutching the quokka close. "Are you J.One?" you asked, knowing you wouldn't get a response. 

You plopped on the bed, "If you are then you'd know I liked the gifts. Would rather have you here though," you mumbled, feeling touch starved after all these years. "You know, I used to wish that the monster under my bed was real so I could get cuddles. It was desperate but the offer still stands," you said, showing a bit of your true intentions. Jisung gulped, hearing your sweet voice address you directly, "Soon, my love. I'll give you what you need soon," he said, grazing your cheek on the screen.

Day after day a new box arrived at your door. Each day brought a different charm, a guitar, a music note, a knife, a coffee cup. Today was just another day where you unbox your gift,  the bracelet stayed around your wrist like a physical claim. You didn't want to take it off and Jisung loved hearing the click clacks of the charms when you walked around the house. "Pretty," you whispered, tracing the letter in your hands. Jisung got more diligent with his letter decorating after knowing that you kept it in your safekeeping box. The letter read:

"To my darling love,

I hope the day finds you well. You looked absolutely adorable with your little bracelet. Wouldn't you like to imagine me pinning you down while the jingle with each thrust? I fantasize a lot, my dear. The gift today is a bit more mature to say, if you're comfortable. I'll be honored to see you in it.

Your love,

J.One"

You gulped at thought, your breathing getting shallow as you looked deeper into the box. Your breath hitched as you took it up, a skimpy lacy lingerie. A simple slip on lingerie that didn't hide much to the imagination. You looked deeper into the box and found a pair of animal ears and a tail. A soft scoff escaped your lips, "You bastard," you smiled, holding it up to the camera. 

"Kinky aren't you?" you teased, rolling your eyes. You held the outfit in your hands, "I'll wear them, on one condition," you said, crossing your arms. Jisung smirked, willing to do whatever you asked. You bit your bottom lip, "Call me, please. It's scary if I play alone, J.One," you sulked, jutting you lips in attempt to swoon him. Jisung gulped, his cock throbbed at the sight. Your pretty gaze made his mind spin. 

He clicked on your contact, it was already saved to 'My Love'. You flinched when your phone rang, you didn't expect him to comply, "Hello?" you asked, nervousness evident on your face. Jisung chuckled, sending shivers down your spine, "I'm weak to a doll like you. One pity gaze and I'm on my knees, darling. Are you happy to hear my voice?" he asked, loving the way you pressed your thighs together. 

You nodded your head, knowing he's watching, "Yes. You sound great. I'm glad to put a voice to the name," you said, hands trembling from excitement. Jisung cooed, "I'm happy you like my voice, doll. Now, why don't you get changed, hm? Let me see you in that pretty outfit I chose," he encouraged, palming his cock with his other hand. You nodded and did as told, changing into the skimpy lingerie with it's accessories. 

Jisung looked away from the camera, not wanting to ruin his own surprise, "May I look now, love?" he asked, trying to keep his moans subtle. "Take a look," you said, bashfully showing him the outfit. Jisung groaned, squeezing his bulge at the sight, "Fuck, baby. You look stunning. Come on, give me a twirl," he instructed, tugging down his pants. You did as told and bit your bottom lip, "Can we go play now?" you asked, eager to touch yourself. Jisung hissed, letting his cock spring against his abdomen, "Of course, darling. Give me a show," he chuckled, watching you trip over your feet as you scurried up the stairs.

NSFW BELOW CUT

AFAB

"Spread your legs further, that's it," he instructed, watching you thrust your dildo in and out of your tight fluttering cunt. He zoomed the camera in, ensuring a 4K view. You arched your back, thrusting the toy to his commands, the pillow beneath your ass gave him a better view. "Hah, hah, hhgh," you gasped, pumping the toy at a languid pace. You needed more, your body craved more as you listened to Jisung's throaty groans. 

"That's it, take it slow. You're doing so mmh good for me, darling," thrusting his hips within his flashlight in sync with yours. You whimpered at the squelching audio echo within your ears, "Need faster, J. Please," you hiccuped, clenching around the dildo just to feel more. 

Jisung chuckled, "I can't torture my baby doll too long. Pick up the pace, darling. Pound your cunt like you normally would, Show how fucking good that cunt of yours take cock," he growled, hearing your broken whines and moans as you twist and thrust the dildo at a relentless pace. It was raw, needy and desperate. Just the way you loved it. 

Jisung groaned, bucking his hips to match your pace, "Shit, shit, hah. Rub your clit, love. Fuck, hhgh, cum with me," he grits, pounding the fleshight as rough as you were, his eyes glued to the screen when you screamed out his name. "Fuck, fuck, Jisung!" you sobbed, creaming around your dildo. Jisung choked on his breath, cumming into the toy with little to no resistance, "Fuck," he gasped,  filling up the flashlight with his orgasm. 

You whimpered, thrusting the dildo to ease down your high, "Jisung," you mewled, staring into the camera. Jisung gulped, slumping back into his seat, "Tell me, doll. How do you know my name?" he asked, brushing his hair back. You gave him a dopey smile, "I knew since the beginning, Han. I always knew," you said, reaching your hand beneath your pillow to pull out his missing boxers. Jisung chuckled, resting his head on the desk, "Fuck, love. You got me all hard again," he growled, staring at the screen. You bit your bottom lip, "Good, 'cause I'm ready for round 2," you giggled, giving him a flying kiss.

AMAB

"Spread your legs further, that's it," he instructed, watching you thrust your dildo in and out of your tight fluttering hole. He zoomed the camera in, ensuring a 4K view. You arched your back, thrusting the toy to his commands, the pillow beneath your ass gave him a better view. "Hah, hah, hhgh," you gasped, pumping the toy at a languid pace. You needed more, your body craved more as you listened to Jisung's throaty groans. 

"That's it, take it slow. You're doing so mmh good for me, darling," thrusting his hips within his flashlight in sync with yours. You whimpered at the squelching audio echo within your ears, "Need faster, J. Please," you hiccuped, clenching around the dildo just to feel more. 

Jisung chuckled, "I can't torture my baby doll too long. Pick up the pace, darling. Pound your hole like you normally would, Show how fucking good that hole of yours take cock," he growled, hearing your broken whines and moans as you twist and thrust the dildo at a relentless pace. It was raw, needy and desperate. Just the way you loved it. 

Jisung groaned, bucking his hips to match your pace, "Shit, shit, hah. Rub your cockhead, love. Fuck, hhgh, cum with me," he grits, pounding the fleshight as rough as you were, his eyes glued to the screen when you screamed out his name. "Fuck, fuck, Jisung!" you sobbed, creaming onto your torso. Jisung choked on his breath, cumming into the toy with little to no resistance, "Fuck," he gasped,  filling up the flashlight with his orgasm. 

You whimpered, thrusting the dildo to ease down your high, "Jisung," you mewled, staring into the camera. Jisung gulped, slumping back into his seat, "Tell me, doll. How do you know my name?" he asked, brushing his hair back. You gave him a dopey smile, "I knew since the beginning, Han. I always knew," you said, reaching your hand beneath your pillow to pull out his missing boxers. Jisung chuckled, resting his head on the desk, "Fuck, love. You got me all hard again," he growled, staring at the screen. You bit your bottom lip, "Good, 'cause I'm ready for round 2," you giggled, giving him a flying kiss.

[necrotic-nephilim]

I’m gonna be honest I didn’t realize the new 52 messed with Kon that much till I read your post and now I can’t get over the potential. I’m a Tim/Kon girly at heart so I would devour anything you write exploring the 52 vs typical Kon. Also Time being in a clone sandwich is 👌.

the new-52 messed Kon up SO bad it's ridiculous. like, to the point i would personally argue he's a completely unrelated character to pre-Flashpoint/Rebirth Kon. his personality, his suit, his origin, all different. the only real similarities are the name and powerset. and even New-52!Kon's powers are slightly different from pre-Flashpoint!Kon. New-52!Kon is a clone of a future version of Jon Lane Kent, cloned by N.O.W.H.E.R.E. to provide genetic material to Jon Lane Kent, whose body was not handling being half human/half Kryptonian well, it was a whole thing. New-52!Kon is also where we get the infamous "Kon-El means 'abomination of the house of El' and Kara basically named him a slur in Kryptonian culture" tidbit, because that is the only time that's canon. (originally Kon-El was a name gifted by Clark to accept Kon as his family way back in the 90s) he also never went by Conner Kent. New-52!Kon just straight up didn't have any real human identity or connections, outside of being very close to Tim and some Titans.

the very TLDR of Kon's history is: during post-Crisis/pre-Flashpoint, a clone called Superboy is created by CADMUS. at first, he's considered to be a clone of a dude named Paul Westfield and is not Kryptonian whatsoever, he was simply made to look like Superman and only has Tactile Telekinesis as a power. then, it was made canon that actually he was a clone of Lex Luthor and Clark Kent, but Lex hid this fact and slowly, Kon developed more Kryptonian powers. he's given the name Kon-El by Clark, and is taken in by the Kents, getting the name Conner Kent. then Flashpoint happens, we get the New-52, and we're given the above version of Kon-El, who is a clone of Jon Lane Kent, created by N.O.W.H.E.R.E. who has mostly very strong telekinesis powers and some Kryptonian powers. he's with the Titans for a bit, then at the end of the New-52, he kills some aliens and feels bad about it so he decides to fuck off and is never seen again, it's presumed he's dead but never confirmed. then Rebirth happens and DC makes Jon Kent the current Superboy, we get Supersons and all that, and it's assumed that no version of Kon-El exists. just at all. he's not around whatsoever, Jon is our only Superboy. *but* in 2019, we get a new Young Justice run and the pre-Flashpoint Kon-El is back, and we're given the explanation of: Kon got accidentally teleported to this alternate realm called Gemworld and then Flashpoint happened, and since that was a Crisis Event that changed the timeline, the poor lad got *erased* from the timeline, causing most people to *not fucking remember him* and for him to remember a timeline that no longer exists. some of the Young Justice team vaguely remember him, Ma and Pa Kent remember him, but notably, Clark *does not remember him*. it's not an issue of "Clark ignored Kon in favor of Jon" it's an issue of "Kon was erased from the timeline and didn't exist for years bc he was stuck in Gemworld and Clark just doesn't remember Kon or Kon's timeline" which to me, is far more tragic but i digress. since then, Kon has been back and is present in most significant Superfamily runs, with his own recent mini-series, Superboy: Man of Tomorrow. (which was very good btw)

so basically: the New-52 fucked Kon up so bad they wrote him out of comics for years and then brought back the pre-Flashpoint version, but never *explicitly* killed the New-52 version off. so hypothetically, it's possible that there are currently two characters existing in the DC universe named Kon-El who have been Superboy. and like i said above, one of New-52!Kon's only real significant relationships was with Tim, it was the only thing the New-52 managed to get right about Superboy, his closeness to Tim. they have a *lot* of moments that read incredibly queer. and ofc, it's just outright confirmed in Dark Crisis: Young Justice that Tim had a crush on pre-Flashpoint!Kon at some point. so while comics are intent on pretending New-52!Kon doesn't exist, i am intent on putting Tim in a clone sandwich.

because i do think it's fun to play with Tim having genuine feelings and potentially a relationship with both of them. and the fucked up nature of him not fully *remembering* his relationship with pre-Flashpoint!Kon (which is a canon thing, in YJ(2019) Tim has vague memories of Kon he's struggling to piece together and understand why he cares about this guy he doesn't recognize so much) and how frustrating that is for Tim. he knows he loves Kon, but it's all foggy besides that. and so it's even *more* fucked up if Tim dated New-52!Kon before he got emo and ran off into the unknown. obviously in canon no one has told current Kon about New-52!Kon bc comics are doing the good ol' tried and true of "sweep that shit under the rug" but for fanfic, i think it's fun to ask the question of: would anyone *tell* Kon? especially Tim? who now remembers dating both versions of them? would he admit to Kon that briefly, he had another Kon? how would Tim cope with that and move on? personality wise, they could not be more different. they dress and act and look different. they're not the same person, but there's certainly a questionable factor of Tim's dating history including two Kon-Els.

the idea i've had for a while is Tim slowly starting to date pre-Flashpoint!Kon again. it feels familiar and like home. and Tim has grieved and accepted that wherever New-52!Kon is, he doesn't want to come home, he didn't love TIm enough to stay and try. so Tim takes the Kon he has, and genuinely has a happy relationship. like for once, life is good and things almost make sense for Tim. but then, of course, New-52!Kon comes back. he decides he wants to try again and he finds Tim. only to find well. he's been replaced. and technically, he's been replaced with the *original* that he didn't even know *existed*. and if being a clone is bad enough, that just makes it a hundred times worse. because imagine knowing you're actually the second Kon-El your boyfriend who you never *technically* broke up with fell in love with. that's gotta give you some kind of complex.

so i think it's fun if both Kons try to step back and let the other Kon date Tim. both of them have reasons to feel like the "replacement" or "fake" Kon, and it makes them incredibly awkward with each other. do they count as the same person? bc they definitely don't *feel* like the same person to each other, but with weird timeline stuff, who can really say. them settling on an awkward throuple that's really meant to be Tim just dating them both but somehow they end up dating each other too is so fun for me. they both feel like imposters to the Superboy name but are so deeply in love with Tim Drake, it's the one thing truly connecting them. and then of course, Tim feels bad in that somehow, he's betraying both of them for having feelings for the other. but they make it work, with a lot of awkward angst and miscommunication. i just think it'd be fun. very difficult to write to get all the weird timeline nuances down in a way that's understandable in a fanfic (bc you can't just. infodump like i did on this post) but doable. also difficult to tag, because even though i argue these are two different characters, i'm pretty sure Ao3 groups them under the same character tag. so it'd be difficult to convey it's not *really* as selfcest-y as it would imply. comics, man. DC will never acknowledge New-52!Kon again, and he's admittedly a terrible adaptation of Kon-El, but. i think he was sort of neat in his own right and i'd *love* for DC to just inexplicably bring him back and make the current Kon deal with the consequences of all that. and them make Tim kiss them both. obviously.

[lilacbunnygirl]

bitch,uber to my d*ck

uber driver gojo x fem reader

➵ summary: after that “terrible” sex you had that night, you go to a bar. seeing you drunk until closing time, the bartender calls you an Uber. you never imagined the driver could be this sexy and straightforward. who knows, maybe after that “terrible” sex, he might give you a good one…

➵ warnings: this story contains +18 content (alcohol, car sex (reader on top), unprotected sex, oral sex (f and m receiving) ) so minors don’t interact!!

➵ author’s note: hello everyone! i was supposed to write the third chapter of “black cat luck”, but i’ve been very busy this week. yesterday, an idea came to me. why am i not writing about the uber driver gojo? I just thought it’ll be so fun and dirty to write! i hope you’ll like it. i’ll also share this story on ao3, so if you like to support me, my account is here. and lastly i have no hatred for turtles, and i never will! you’ll understand what i mean once you read the story. sending love to everyone <333 lilacbunnygirl

➵ word count: 4.791

You definitely shouldn’t have drunk this much tonight. It was already Monday, and you had a very important presentation. Working in an advertising company was a highly stressful job. Convincing the client to like your ideas and then landing the job was a feeling you had never experienced before. But this time, everything was going to be different. During the brainstorming meeting, your project director loved the slogan you came up with for crackers and wanted you to handle the presentation.

“Eat until you’re full, if you can of course!”

You never understood why he liked it. In fact, it could easily be seen as quite suggestive. It sounded like, instead of crackers, a penis came to mind. But of course, this wasn’t a fake penis ad… Still, it seemed like a memorable slogan.

Right now, you should have been home, asleep. It was 2 a.m. You were going to get up in about 5 hours to go to work. But after that “stress-relieving sex before a presentation,” you definitely needed a drink. Or maybe a few…

You thought it was a good idea to relax by having sex the day before the presentation. Let go of all the stress and just focus on pleasure… After a long time, you re-downloaded Tinder and matched with a guy who seemed really attractive. What both of you wanted was clear. A hot night. You started getting ready 4 hours before the date. You took a shower. Shaved your legs and bikini area. You even exfoliated to make your skin soft. Afterward, you poured yourself some white wine, turned on your music to set the mood, and began preparing. Nothing could ruin your mood today. After the final touches on your makeup, you looked in the mirror. You really looked “fuckable.”

When you arrived at the meeting place, the guy greeted you very well. A delicious meal, light touches, and wine had already put you both in the mood for sex.

Of course, that was until you got into bed…

With those memories, you hit your drunk head against the bar counter again. You thought to yourself, “Goddamn it.” You had bad sex experiences before, but this one… was so bad that it was beyond words.

None of the places he kissed, touched, or licked managed to get you wet. Maybe the part where he fingered you (or we can say tried to) wasn’t too bad, but the moment he entered you, the pain you felt and his weird groaning sounds confirmed that today was going to be awful.

Who the hell groaned like a turtle? You had nothing against turtles. But hearing those noises from the person in front of you completely killed your libido. Sure, turtles groaning during sex was cute and funny, but the person in front of you wasn’t a turtle.

You banged your head on the counter again and sighed. Realizing there was only a drop of your drink left, you raised your head and downed the last of it. Then you looked at the bartender, whose vision was debatable due to your drunken state.

“Hey! You were supposed to stop me after my third drink.”

The bartender, as he put down the glass he was cleaning, replied, “My job is to serve drinks, not stop you from drinking.”

You frowned and said, “I thought they helped in the movies.”

The bartender grinned. “Exactly, because they’re movies. Also, if you’re going to throw up, please don’t do it on the counter. We’re closing soon, and I don’t want to go home late because of cleaning the bar table. The bathroom’s right there.”

You looked in the direction he pointed, but since you were so drunk, everything looked like it was swaying.

“Oh, don’t worry, I don’t feel sick, I just drank wayyyy too much. At home, 2 glasses of wine, at the date 2 glasses, and when I got here…” You tried to count how much you’d drunk on your fingers, but the bartender answered for you, “Six. Six glasses of whiskey. My god, how are you still alive?”

“Don’t worry, after everything I went through today, I really needed it.”

“I probably shouldn’t ask, but… did you have a bad date?”

You steadied your spinning head with your hand propped on the counter. “The worst. I mean, everything started out great. But when we got to the part we both wanted the most… POOF, the whole vibe was gone.”

The bartender laughed at your story and said, “Hmm. So it was bad sex i guess.”

You slammed your hand on the counter and said, “Oh my god, the worst. For the first time in my life, I had sex with a turtle…”

The bartender looked at you in shock after your last words. “Okay! Maybe I really should have stopped you after that third drink.”

“I’m serious! He was like a turtle. Ugh, no, I think I’m going to cry. I just wanted to relax before my big presentation. A good night of sex, some hot moments… You know, a nice way to release the stress. But the only thing today has left me with is being too drunk. Oh, and turtle trauma.” After finishing your story, you rested your head back on the counter.

“Then I probably shouldn’t tell you about my pet turtle, Dorothy.”

You quickly lifted your head off the counter. “NO, PLEASE DON’T!”

The bartender laughed while cleaning more glasses. “Don’t worry, I won’t. But a little advice for you: you really shouldn’t be drunk the night before a presentation, beautiful. It’s almost 3 a.m. and you should be sleeping in your bed right now, not sitting here talking about turtle man you had sex with.”

Whether it was the bad experience or the alcohol, the bartender’s words had suddenly turned you on. “Please don’t take this the wrong way, but everything you’re saying is making me want to fuck you even more. Please call me ‘beautiful ’ again.”

The bartender laughed genuinely as he hung the clean glasses on the bar rack. “Alright then, I’ll be honest. I would definitely love to fuck you, beautiful. But not while you’re in this state. I don’t know what happened today with that turtle guy, but if I had been in his place, I wouldn’t have stopped until you’d come at least five times, with my tongue deep inside you to help you forget all the stress.”

Every word he said made your eyes widen even more. Holy shit, you were really wet now. And the bartender had managed that without even touching you.

“I… I think I’m wet.”

A sweet smile appeared on the bartender’s face. “Remember when I showed you the bathroom, darling?” You nodded your head in agreement. You didn’t actually remember, but you’d figure it out somehow. “Alright, do you think you can go on your own? Wash your face and try to pull yourself together. I’ve got a few more glasses to clean up over here. After that, I can call a cab to get you home.”

You nodded again, and despite wobbling a bit, you managed to make it to the bathroom. After splashing cold water on your face, you felt a little better. Even though you wanted him to make you come 5 times with his mouth, right now wasn’t the time. When you got back, the bartender had finished his work and was waiting for you at the front of the bar, holding your coat and bag.

“Welcome back! Feeling better?”

“Yes. But my head is still spinning. Could I give you my phone to call an Uber? I don’t think I can manage to enter the address myself.”

The bartender helped you into your coat and took your phone. He asked for your address. After stuttering a little, you finally told him, and he typed it in.

“Alright, it’ll be here in five minutes. Do you want to step outside for some fresh air?”

“Please…”

He supported you as you walked toward the exit. About seven minutes later, a black car pulled up in front of the bar. Once you realized it was your ride, you turned to the bartender and said, “Thanks for everything.”

The bartender gave you a sweet smile. “I’m sorry I didn’t stop you after your third drink, beautiful.” He planted a soft kiss on your cheek and said, “Take care, and by the way, my name’s Choso.”

Damn… if only I weren’t so drunk, you thought to yourself before waving goodbye and getting into the car.

After getting in, the driver started the car and began driving towards your house.

“Seems like someone can’t leave their lover behind,” the driver said.

You lifted your head and looked at him. With nearly white hair and sunglasses worn for no apparent reason at this hour he didn’t exactly exude reliability.

“I wish he were my boyfriend. But he just helped me pull myself together. Why do bartenders have to be so handsome?”

“Hmm… he really sounds like a gentleman. So, may I ask why you’re this drunk, sweetheart?”

“I had sex with turtle man.”

The driver let out a loud laugh, as if he hadn’t heard something so funny in a long time. “Oh, sounds fun. But you don’t seem too happy about it.”

Sighing, you replied, “When he couldn’t get me wet no matter what he did, and then started moaning like a mating turtle… yeah, I guess I wasn’t too happy.”

The driver spoke excitedly, “OH MY GOD, I’VE NEVER SEEN ANYTHING AS FUNNY AS MOANING TURTLES!” But then, seeing your unhappy face through the rearview mirror, he added, “Of course, that’s just for turtles. If someone I was fucking made that noise, I’d be upset too.”

“Forget it. At least I have a funny story to tell people. I just… really needed to relax before my big presentation tomorrow, but everything got ruined.”

A sly grin appeared on the driver’s face after what you said. “You should’ve tried hooking up with the bartender.”

You quickly shifted your gaze from the road to the rearview mirror. The driver’s mischievous smile was awakening strange feelings inside you. Damn, could someone’s smile be that attractive? And why were you getting turned on so easily? First the bartender, now the driver…

“Actually, he said he wanted to sleep with me, but not in this state.”

“How unfortunate… because I would’ve definitely pinned you to the bar table and screwed you without caring if you were drunk or not, sweetheart.”

Wait… what?

“Excuse me?”

The driver laughed, “What? Weren’t you the one who wanted to relax?”

“Yes, but—”

“Then like I said, I would’ve fucked you so well, you’d have no strength left to go to work.” After stopping at a red light, the driver turned to look at you. “Want to give it a try?”

“Am I in a porno right now, or are you seriously saying this? Damn it, I shouldn’t have had six drinks!”

With a cocky smirk, he said, "Oh, trust me, this isn't a porno, sweetheart. Right now, alll want is to take you to an empty, quiet parking lot just eight minutes away and fuck you until you're screaming my name." As the light turned green, the driver started moving again.

You sat in the back seat, completely shocked and unsure of how to react, but a part of you was tempted to accept his offer. You'd never gotten a proposal like his from an Uber driver before. Why would you? How did you even end up with this guy as your driver?

You closed your eyes and imagined yourself with the driver. He didn't look bad, and you didn't think he could be worse in bed than the turtle man. On the contrary, he seemed like someone who knew exactly which buttons to push on your body.

"Alright."

"Huh? What did you say?"

"You've got five minutes to get me to that parking lot and fuck me, driver."

His soft laughter filled the car. "As you wish, ma'am."

He made a sharp turn, pulling an illegal U-turn, and sped toward the parking lot. Not exactly one for following rules, you thought. What else could you expect from a guy who makes inappropriate propositions to his drunk passengers?

He had arrived at the parking lot, which he had mentioned would take eight minutes, in almost half the time. The place was eerily quiet, with not even a security guard in sight. Why the hell had you agreed to this? He was definitely a serial killer. As your worries began to escalate, the driver parked the car, pulled the handbrake, and quickly got out, slamming the door shut. Your heart pounded in your chest as you watched him walk around to your side of the car.

This was it. You were going to die without ever seeing your cheesy, filthy slogan on a billboard.

He opened the door beside you and cupped your face in his hands, gently stroking your skin as he bit his lip. That lip bite alone was enough to make your underwear damp. Leaning closer to your ear, he whispered, “I hope you'll enjoy the ride, ma’am.”

When he brought his face back to yours, you saw the smirk on his lips. Just as you were about to respond, his lips captured yours.

At first, his kiss was soft, exploring your lips, but the moment he brought his tongue into play, everything became wild. His tongue seemed desperate to explore every inch of your mouth, driving you insane. You wrapped your arms around his neck, pulling him closer to deepen the kiss as you leaned back on the rear seat, bringing him on top of you. He moaned into your mouth at the shift. His lips left yours, trailing down to your chin, which he licked and bit softly.

“Fuck, you’re so soft I could kiss you forever…”

You moaned in response. When his lips finally reached your neck, you felt like you might pass out.

This was what you wanted. Someone who knew how to drive you crazy with every touch.

He kissed and licked every inch of your neck. “Do you like it, sweetheart? Please, let me mark you… I need to claim you.”

“Ahh…you don’t even need to ask.”

The moment you gave him permission, he sank his teeth into your delicate skin and sucked hard.

“Ahhh…fuck, please…more.”

You felt his smirk against your skin. He pulled back just for a second to remove his sunglasses, and for the first time in your life, you saw the most piercing blue eyes. You stared at him, shocked.

“Like what you see?”

“Yes…” You had no idea what else to say. You didn’t think you’d ever seen someone this sexy.

“Most women say the same thing.” He leaned back down to kiss your lips again.

He hadn’t lost an ounce of his hunger, kissing you just as passionately as before. His hands found the straps of your dress, and he slowly slid them down. When he lowered his head to look at your bare breasts, a low growl escaped his throat.

“From the moment I saw you through the car window, I wanted to put these in my mouth so badly…” One of his hands cupped your right breast, squeezing it gently. When his fingers pinched your nipple, you couldn’t help but moan. He buried his face in your neck again, his hand still teasing your sensitive nipple.

“God… please, I need you to suck them…”

Kissing his way down to your chest, he looked up at you with those bright blue eyes. “Satoru. My name is Satoru. Say my name, sweetheart. I want to hear it from that pretty little mouth of yours while I suck on your nipples.” Without another word, he latched onto your left breast. First he kissed the soft skin around it then teasing your nipple with his tongue, while his hand played with the other breast.

“Satoru…ohhh…mhmm.”

The moment you moaned his name, he took your nipple into his mouth.

“FUCK…GOD…”

He bit and tugged at it, licked and teased, giving you sensations you never imagined possible. After a while, he pulled back, panting, and looked at your breasts. “Pink, round, and so soft…” He gave another teasing lick to your left breast. “My favorite…”

When he finished with your left breast, he quickly moved to the right, giving it the same attention. You tangled your fingers in his hair, pushing his face closer, letting him know you wanted more.

“Please suck harder…they need to be bitten and sucked harder.” He obeyed, sucking harder. You knew if he continued, you’d orgasm from just this. You never thought it was possible to come just from having your breasts sucked on.

Satoru pulled back, gasping for air, and quickly pulled up the hem of your dress. When he saw the black lace thong, he looked like he might lose his mind.

“You’ll need to lean back a little, sweetheart. I need room to eat your pussy.”

Hearing his raspy voice, you sat up and leaned back against the car door. You were starting to sober up a little.

Once he had the space to move, he started kissing your inner thighs. He bit and sucked every spot he kissed. You moaned softly, wanted him to give you more hickeys.

“You need me to mark you so badly, don’t you sweetheart? Tell me, did that guy ever bite you like this?”

“Ugh…ha…no..” Your voice was weak. Satoru bit your right thigh hard enough to nearly break the skin. Then he said, “Louder, I can’t hear you!”

“OHH…NO…THEY DIDN’T…GOD PLEASE…LICK MY PUSSY, SATORU!”

He licked the spot he’d just bitten and looked at you with that signature smirk. “As you wish ma'am. My passenger’s comfort is always my priority.”

At first, he placed soft, wet kisses on your thong. Each kiss nearly sent you over the edge. He was driving you wild.

“SATORU, IF YOU DON’T PUT YOUR TONGUE IN- OHHH…YES YES, RIGHT THERE….!”

Before you could finish speaking, he had already pushed your thong aside and started running his tongue over your folds. “Be patient. I’ll give you what you want, sweetheart. Just focus on feeling good.”

You did as he said, squirming as his tongue worked away all your tension. He licked every inch of your inner walls and sucked your clit clammily every time he reached it.

“Satoru…there…right there…”

“Here?” SLURP. SLURP.SLURP

“MMMFFP…OH YES YES, SATORU, KEEP SUCKING…”

“I could do this forever, sweetheart. You’re so wet, my mouth is covered in your juices.” His words, combined with the friction from his mouth, were driving you crazy. Without a warning, he shoved two fingers inside you.

"AGH- SATORU...IT HURTS!"

"You're so tight.. I don't know how you're going to take my cock. But l'Il do my best to help you, sweetheart. Now tell me, how many times have you fucked before?"

"Ohh...not many...ughh..faster..."

"By the time l'm done with you, this moment will be unforgettable. No matter who you date or marry, you'll always think of me. AGGH..ONLY. ME. ONLY...fuck.."

"SATORU, I'M SO CLOSE..."

"That stupid bartender could never do this to you. NEVER. Your walls will never grip him the way they're gripping my fingers. CUM ON MY FINGERS, SWEETHEART... I WANT EVERY DROP!"

"OHHH..GOD!"

He pumped his fingers in and out a few more times, feeling your walls tighten around them. When he saw the liquid spill from you, he immediately put his mouth on you and drank every last drop. Fuck. You'd never seen any man get this excited about making you cum. Every guy you'd been with before had only gone down on you to get you off, but Satoru... it was like this was his life's purpose. Every second seemed to make him the happiest man alive.

You were so aroused by the situation that you lifted Satoru’s face, who was still licking you, and made him look at you. His mouth was completely covered in your juices, and his eyes were half closed in pleasure. Pulling his face closer, you wanted to taste yourself from his lips.

“Hmphh… Satoru, lean back on the seat.”

Like a soldier following orders, he moved to sit in the middle of the back seat. As he leaned back, he pulled you onto his lap, guiding you on top of him. As your lips began exploring his neck, you asked, “Do you want me to bite?”

“Please…” he replied, his voice hoarse with approval, and without wasting any time, you began biting and sucking on his neck.

“Have you ever done something like this with another passenger before?” you asked, feeling his grip on your hips tighten as his hot breath hit your neck.

“Ugh… no. But some have wanted it.”

You could swear a smug grin appeared on your face. A sudden wave of jealousy surged inside you, and you pulled your head back to look at his face. Just as you thought, he was smiling…

“Good. I’ve got a little gift for you to make sure you never forget this moment, Satoru…”

As your hands found his bulge, Satoru moaned loudly. “Ahh… I always love gifts, darling.”

There was enough room for you to lean down. You slid off his lap, positioning yourself lower. Kneeling before him, you planted a soft kiss on his manhood through his pants.

“Ugh… I guess it’s my turn to have a comfortable ride…”

You gave him a lustful smirk. With a swift motion, you unbuckled his belt and pulled down his zipper. When you pulled down both his pants and boxers…

Oh… okay, it was really big.

Your eyes widened at the sight. Seeing your reaction, Satoru teased, “HAHAHAHA. Did I scare you, darling?” His tone was challenging.

“Never.” Your firm response was followed by your hands wrapping around his cock, stroking it lightly, which was enough to make him curse. After a bit more stroking, you slowly licked the tip of his cock with your tongue.

“FUCK… PLEASE…”

“Be patient, Satoru.” You echoed his earlier words back to him, and without wasting any time, you took his big, thick cock into your mouth.

FUCK.

Satoru’s hands found your hair, helping you maintain a steady rhythm. Inside the car, the only sound was you gagging. Sucking his cock was turning you on so much that you wanted more. You wanted to take it all in.

“STORRO… MO… MORROO”

“Hm, what did you say… Ugh, sweetheart, yes, yes… DO YOU WANT MORE, HUH? TAKE IT!”

When his hands pushed your head down to take all of his cock in your mouth, the tears that had been building up finally spilled.

“JUST LIKE THAT… EVERY TIME YOU FEEL THAT SORENESS IN YOUR THROAT TOMORROW, REMEMBER WHO FUCKED IT, SWEETHEART… UGH YES YES…”

Even though you were choking and gagging, you didn’t want to stop. Even though your throat was getting raw, you didn’t care. All you wanted was to satisfy him, to taste how sweet his cum would be when he finished in your mouth.

“Baby… I’m so… so close… Fuck… fuck… just a bit more…”

You held on. With all your strength, you waited for him to come in your mouth.

“OUHHHH… FUCKKK….”

As his white fluid filled your mouth, you moaned and tried to swallow it all. It came so fast and uncontrollably that some even dribbled out of your mouth. Slowly pulling away, you planted another kiss on the tip of his cock before climbing back onto his lap.

Satoru was completely spent. His head fell back, his breathing was uneven, and his eyes were closed. You kissed him softly on the lips. “Hmm… I think that was the best thing I’ve eaten today.”

He opened his eyes and chuckled lightly. He licked the cum that had dripped from your mouth down to your neck. “Trust me, sweetheart, nothing tastes as sweet as you. Now… are you ready for the main ride?”

“But you just came…?”

He stroked your face with his left hand. “Ah, for you, I’m always ready, sweetheart.”

You were shocked to feel his cock still hard beneath you. How could he be ready for another round just two minutes after coming? Was this man a god or something?

While you wrestled with your thoughts, he roughly pulled down your thong, tearing it in the process. “AGGH HEY! That was my favorite thong!”

Raising an eyebrow, he replied, “Do you think I care, sweetheart?”

“You should.”

“Oh. Too bad because the only thing I care about is getting inside that tight, warm pussy of yours.” As he lifted you slightly and aligned himself with your entrance, a thought crossed your mind. “Satoru, wait! The condom—OH MY GOD, SATORU…”

Before you could finish your sentence, he thrust into you hard. His large hands gripped your waist, bouncing you up and down on him.

“Ughh… fuck… you’re so tight… I could come again immediately…”

“Satoru… oh god… all this time, I’ve been using Uber, and you show up now? I must’ve seen you before… ughh”

“Believe me, darling, if I had seen you before… -SMACK-… I would have made this offer… -SMACK-… then too.”

Burying your face in Satoru’s neck, you let him take control. He was slamming into you with all his strength. When you bit his neck to stifle your moans, Satoru suddenly stopped.

“Why… why did you stop?”

“If you try to hide your moans again, I’ll take you home without finishing.” His threatening words were followed by him lifting your hips slightly before continuing to thrust into you.

“Ohhh… Satoru… harder, please…”

As he pounded into you harder, you arched your back, wanting to feel the pleasure even more. Your hands clutched at Satoru’s chest. Seeing your breasts bouncing as you moved, Satoru leaned forward and began sucking on them while still fucking you.

Your hands instinctively found his head. You pressed his head into your breasts, not wanting him to pull away. At the same time, you moved your hips, making sure his cock hit your g-spot with each thrust.

“Satoru… I’m about to come… ohhh… please…”

“Hold on a bit longer, baby… you can’t come until I say so.”

He pulled away from your breasts, and your eyes locked. You were overwhelmed by all your emotions. You didn’t think you’d ever experience something like this again.

“Baby… I’m so close AGHHH…”

“SATORU…. FUCK…”

With Satoru’s words, you let go of the orgasm you had been trying to hold back. As the pleasure surged through your body, you felt Satoru release inside you. The warmth filling your pussy was indescribable…

As Satoru leaned back in exhaustion, he pulled you on top of him. Resting your head on his chest, you tried to steady your breathing while a slogan you’d come up with for a cracker ad popped into your head.

“Now I understand more clearly what it means to never get enough…”

Satoru laughed. “Women usually can’t get enough of my cock.”

“Asshole... You might’ve actually rocked my world.”

He kissed the top of your head. “You’re welcome.”

Closing your eyes, you rested a bit longer on Satoru’s chest.

Ten minutes later, as if nothing had happened, you both left the deserted parking lot and headed to your home. You were completely sober now, and there wasn’t a trace of stress left about the presentation. But you might have developed a new addiction: your late night Uber driver…

“Well, is it too late to ask what you do for a living?”

You laughed at Satoru’s question. “Maybe just a bit… I’m in the creative department at an ad agency. My department head liked the slogan I came up with for a cracker ad, so he asked me to present it at meeting on Monday. Which means today...”

“Oh, I love crackers! So, what’s the slogan?”

“Eat until you’re full, if you can of course!”

“HAHAHA. I like it, it’s catchy and a little… naughty.”

Rolling your eyes at his words, you replied, “Yeah, I know…”

The rest of the ride was quiet. When you arrived in front of your house, Satoru stopped the car. Your handsome driver turned to you. “Well, I hope your journey was pleasant and safe, ma'am. Don’t forget to leave a rating, please!”

“You can be sure I’ll give you five stars, driver. Thanks for the ride.” You leaned in and gave him a soft kiss on the lips before stepping out of the car.

Satoru didn’t leave until you were inside your apartment. As he remembered the slogan you had shared earlier, he threw his head back and let out a deep laugh.

“God… after today, I don’t think I could ever get enough of you…”

(satoru gojo art by @narutoss_ramen on x)

@lilacbunnygirl don't copy or translate my works.

[rubyin-wonderland]

Sleepless Nights

opla!Zoro x gn!reader

Summary: due to your anxiety, you haven't been sleeping that well. Or at all. Someone needs to step in.

WC: 3.4k

Warnings/tags: anxiety, insomnia, overworking yourself, breaking down, there's fluff in here I swear, hurt/comfort written by someone who's never been comforted or knows how to comfort so we'll see

It was a sunny day. Perfect for any arrangement of fun activities or entertainment. And yet, on your ship, neither of those were to be found.

The crew stood on the deck, watching as you paced back and forth across the length of the deck, mumbling something incoherent to yourself.

"When did they last sleep?" Nami asked, peeking over at Zoro, who stood up straight, arms crossed and brow furrowed at your display. He was more tense than usual. "Few days. Unless you count napping at a desk for a few minutes as sleep." "I don't."

You had been really nervous lately. The ship was rapidly approaching the Grand Line and the air was lit with nerves. Both of excitement and anxiety.

The anxiety was primarily yours. For the past week you had taken it upon yourself to keep everything ship shape. There was one problem with this, that being that you were not comforted by completing your self-appointed list of tasks.

On the contrary. As days passed by, you grew more and more agitated, your anxiety building instead of settling. When you weren't hidden away in your room, writing yet another list or searching through your small library of informational books or doing menial tasks all over the boat, you were doing what you did now, pacing along the deck until inspiration struck and you would go back to your room, mumbling to yourself all the way.

The crew had done their best in terms of trying to calm you down. They invited you to participate in small activities with them, hoping you would relax enough to let go of your stress, but that rarely, if ever, worked.

Zoro took responsibility when you got too bad, stepping in when you broke down, helping you as best he could until you had calmed down enough to be stable, but you never relaxed past that. The anxiety never left you. Never completely.

At one point, you had gotten so worked up over Sanji's meal plan that you had holed yourself up deep in the belly of the ship, crying in between boxes of unknown things. You made a mental note to run inventory on them, which only made you feel worse.

After sobbing your eyes out, you returned to the world above the waterline and complained about the situation to Zoro, who comforted you as best he could before going to argue with Sanji about the meal plan and how you were handling everything.

The argument was bad, but you spent the most of it inside your room, as you read about the probability of a tornado encountering your ship while you travelled.

That night had been difficult for everyone, trying to keep Sanji and Zoro from attacking each other while also making sure you stayed fed and in the best mood you could possibly be, the bar for which was getting lower and lower as the days passed by.

That was the first night you didn't sleep. You told Zoro to sleep off his anger and you would join him, but while he did follow your orders, you disobeyed yourself and stayed up all night.

You hadn't slept since. They had all tried to convince you to sleep, but all manners of convincing and pleading with you were unsuccessful.

You would eat at meals and spend time with the crew when requested, but nobody knew how to get you to sleep.

Not even Zoro, your beloved nap addict, was able to pull you down. He had tried. He had tried so hard, but you tried harder.

His naps had felt unsatisfactory without you leaning on him while he rested. He was missing your presence and he was feeling it.

He would ask for you to nap with him, but you would brush him aside, and he was not the type to beg you to sleep with him, so he let you go. At first.

Sleeping at night was a different story. He would ask you to join him and you would do one of two things.

The first option was saying yes and crawling into bed with him, allowing him to pull you close in some futile attempt at falling asleep, but it never took, and you would just break out of his grasp once he had fallen asleep, returning to your work.

The other was telling him you would be there in "just a minute", promising both him and yourself that you would be there soon, but there was always something that took your attention. One more task, one last note. Until the morning came and Zoro woke up alone in your bed.

He would try to lure you in, napping close to you. Before everything went south, you would join him if you ever saw him napping, sliding in next to him, resting your head on his shoulder or draping a lazy arm over his body, tangling yourself with him.

You used to seek eachother out to nap, but since you weren't sleeping, it was just him, by himself, while you worked yourself to death.

Occasionally, your body would force you into sleep, but it never took. Zoro would find you slumped over your desk, unmoving but breathing deeply, and he would hope that he could move you to the bed somehow to get you to sleep but you would soon jolt up, taking in a ragged breath and your brief rest would be over and done with.

You were usually at your desk when it happened, overly tired and overworked. Your head would fall onto your work, and for a few minutes, you would regain miniscule bits of strength to power you for the next little while.

While it happened mostly at your desk, it had happened in other places too, but always while you were sitting down. Never while you were standing and certainly not while you were walking.

However, earlier that day, on your way to the kitchen with Zoro, you had just collapsed. It terrified Zoro to no end, as he watched you fall, carefully watching as your chest rose and fell, indicating that as scary as it had been, you were still alive.

When you woke up as you usually did, you took longer to get up, lethargy taking over. In a few more minutes you were back to being as anxious as ever, but it was this incident that had spurred the crew to watching you pace along the deck.

You made a sudden, sharp turn, going inside, ignoring the stares that followed you in.

"You need to get them to sleep." Nami insisted. "And not just a nap. A full, healthy sleep. This can't possibly be good for them."

"I could make their favourite meal, maybe-" "This isn't about your food, waiter. Butt out." Zoro frowned at Sanji, poison in his gaze. The argument about the meal plan still pretty fresh, and spirits hadn't gotten much better since you stopped sleeping.

"Maybe during the meal we could talk to them about what's going on. Or is that too complex for you?" Sanji asked, hands on his hips.

"Don't forget that you and your stupid meal plan are a part of this problem." Sanji was prepared to shoot back but Zoro cut him off. "Leave it. I can do this."

Zoro followed you as you ducked into your room, sitting down once more in your chair, hunched over your papers, scribbling something down. Over time, your handwriting had deteriorated significantly. Slowly but surely you could see the descent into exhaustion you had gone through. You writing had gone from it's normal script, into chicken scratch, into missing letters and words, into things that looked like words, but the letters were all wrong, leaving you with a pile of nonsense on your desk.

Closing the door behind him, prepared to put an end to this, Zoro approached you.

He was careful to make sure you knew he was there before he spoke. Heavy steps, making sure to lean on the one creaky floorboard.

"Hey." His hand reached out, resting on your desk. You looked up, meeting his eyes. You blinked a few times before you processed who was there with you. A smile spread on your face, in an attempt to convince him that you were fine.

"Oh, hi Zoro." The smile was forced and looked like it took a bit of effort.

"Why don't you take a break from work and sleep a bit?" He suggested casually, hoping you wouldn't catch onto how bad he needed you to go to sleep.

"Why?" You asked, voice soft. The way you spoke the single word had him weak. Even in your exhausted state, you could manage to charm him.

"You haven't slept in days." You looked at him, still smiling. "I'm fine, Zoro." "You fell asleep standing up this morning." "It won't happen again, I've got a handle on it."

"I'm worried about you."

That was one thing guaranteed to make you stop. He didn't like telling you about his emotions. It was always a struggle. So this confession gave you pause.

"Zoro, I'm alright. I promise." "You need to rest."

You sighed, gesturing at the piles of paper scattered across the table. "I still have things to do. I need to plan a schedule for how long we're going to stay at each island, which one we'll reach first so I can see what we're dealing with, I need to make Sanji's grocery list-"

"He can do that himself." Zoro cut in, still angry at the chef for suggesting that his food would help you better than he could.

He kneeled next to your chair, looking up at you, face completely serious.

"Please." He said as earnestly as he could. A cautious hand reached up to rest on your arm. He noted that your skin was ice cold. "I wouldn't ask you to do this if I wasn't worried for you. One decent sleep is all I want for you."

Your eyes rested on his hand, which held your arm away from your writing. You could feel the warmth emanating from him and resisted the urge to snuggle up against him.

"Zoro, I need to-" "What does this say?" Zoro grabbed one of your messier pages off the desk, showing it to you. The words were messy and barely legible, if they were even words at all. It was a mess of circles, dots and arches, scribbled in wandering lines across the page, making no sense. What words that did exist meant nothing without the context of the words around them.

You moved your hand, taking the page from Zoro's hand, doing your best to read the scribbles, trying to remember what you were even trying to write about.

Your eyes stopped moving after a while and Zoro carefully removed the paper from your grasp, taking it away from your line of sight.

"I messed it up." You whispered, letting your hands fall, eyes beginning to shine with tears. "Oh no." You repeated that phrase over and over, as you glanced at the many many pages sitting on your desk in similar condition.

You pulled your eyes away from the desk, turning to Zoro. You reached out for him, for something, anything to latch on to, hands grasping at his arms. He held on to you, hands on your elbows as you began to cry.

As the tears fell, you could hear Zoro. Under your shaky breaths and sniffles, his voice. Sturdy as a stone wall. Supportive. Protective.

"It's alright. You're okay." He whispered, thumbs gently rubbing up and down the skin of your arms.

You tried to stand, but you fell back into your chair, legs having given out. Zoro lifted you up instead, effortlessly. You let go of his arms and wrapped your limbs around his body, continuing to cry as everything came crashing down around you.

You didn't have much strength left, but what strength you did have was used to keep your arms and legs out of the way, holding him as tight as you could, letting him carry you the two steps to the bed.

You had buried your face in his neck while he sat down, your sobs quieter, but audible right next to his ear.

He leaned back, making sure to get your limbs out from under him, laying down completely. His arms embraced you once more, but this time, he just held you.

In his arms you continued crying, but it was slowing down. As your breathing began to settle, you squeezed him, not easing up. A hiccup escaped your lips and you let out another shuddering breath.

"You didn't mess anything up. Zoro reassured from under you. "You did everything right."

You sat in silence and he held you as you relaxed. You were cold in his arms, but he just reminded himself that to you, he was warm.

He felt you soften around him, it was like you were melting into him, your muscles loosening, until you were just splayed out across him like a strange blanket.

He didn't care. He had no mind for how you were to fall asleep, just that you had to do it. He would suffer through anything as long as you got your sleep. He was not unfamiliar with being kicked late in the night, but he was ready to shoulder that burden too. He could suffer any arrangement of bruises in order to see that you had a good sleep.

Now that he had finally gotten you into the bed, he wasn't going to let you leave. You would not wiggle out to return to your work. He would keep you here. He missed it so much.

"I can't sleep." You confessed to his chest, aware that you falling asleep was the specific reason for this visit. "I close my eyes and it's all nightmares." Zoro looked down at you, still embraced in his arms, the occasional shiver running through your body.

"About what?"

"Getting to the Grand Line and being unprepared. Getting hurt, lost, sick. Dying." Zoro listened attentively as your worries finally escaped from the place where they'd been locked up in your head.

"The Grand Line is dangerous. I know we can handle it, but what if we don't?"

"Look how far we've gotten already. You really think there's something on the Grand Lina that can stop us?"

You let Zoro's words sink in, but still fought back, holding him just a tiny bit tighter. "I almost lost you after the duel with Mihawk." You could see the tip of the scar peeking out of his shirt. A reminder of what you had nearly lost. "And that was just one thing. We all got attacked at Kaya's manor, Nami abandoned us for Arlong, Luffy almost drowned while you were unconscious and if it weren't for Sanji, I have to think at least one of you would've died there."

You noticed a shift in Zoro's grip when you say Sanji's name. "We've been in trouble before, but we survived." He insisted. "We've been lucky. We were lucky to have Usopp run to tell the people about Kuro, we were lucky to have Sanji and Zeff to save Luffy and you at Baratie."

"Then we're really lucky to have you to keep us organized. Keep us grounded. We'll survive the Grand Line, because I'm not dying until I become the greatest swordsman in the world, and I haven't done that yet."

You wanted to say more, to go on about the many things that could happen to you as you traveled, but your body was completely exhausted. You were so tired.

And so, you shifted in place, making yourself comfortable in bed, still held within Zoro's arms, moving downwards to lay your head on his chest. He moved in turn, sitting up against your pillows, readjusting his arms and pulling a blanket up and over you.

"Get some sleep." He whispered gently, trying not to rouse you too much. "Please."

This time, you didn't protest. There was no last excuse or question as to why he would ask you to do such a silly thing as getting some rest. There was just peace. There was just you, sinking deeper into his arms, breaths becoming slower and slower.

Within a minute of sitting silently encased in Zoro's grasp, you had fallen asleep. Zoro only moved once, to pull the blanket up a little higher. Zoro was ready to drift off himself, having missed sleeping with you close to him, but just as his eyes drifted shut, he heard the door squeak.

His eyes shit to the door, an intense glare on his face as the eyes of his crew peeked in to make sure everything was alright.

He briefly looked down to make sure you were undisturbed before returning to glaring at the eyes peeking through the door, a warning that if any of them woke you up, he was prepared to raise hell.

The door squeaked shut and closed with a click, the sound of whispers from outside. You remained sleeping, undisturbed by the sounds that Zoro had been worried about.

You were breathing deeply, a soft snore rising from your lips. You didn't move much, unexpectedly, your dead weight just resting on Zoro's body. He looked past it, glad he had taken his belt off beforehand so that his swords didn't dig into you while you slept.

Under normal circumstances he would've fallen asleep with you, but because of how badly you needed this, he stayed alert. You needed this sleep and he was going to let you have it, even if it meant staying awake while you slept so comfortably on top of him.

He didn't keep track of time, just letting it pass, every second being just that small amount of rest you deserved for working so hard and caring so much.

On his chest, you moved, finally spurred to action, twisting your head in the other direction, pressing a cold cheek to his chest as the rest of your body shifted as well.

Zoro remained still. You needed a place to rest and he could be that for you. He would be that for you.

You had done so much for the crew already, working yourself so hard. He wished he had stepped in sooner, after two nights without you at his side or the first time you had drifted off at your desk and woke up even more confused and disoriented than before.

He stayed still, almost like a statue, the only movement being that of his breathing, which was beginning to line up with yours.

He wasn't even conscious of when he began to draw circles on your shoulder.

You used to do it with him when he was almost asleep, running the tips of your fingers across his skin, the gentle touch soothing and sweet. He liked it, and he hoped you did too.

His mimicry surely wasn't as good as yours, but he traced the circles anyway, tracing his masterpiece through the fabric of your shirt.

He hoped that if you weren't in a deep, dreamless sleep, that you were at least dreaming of good things. Of adventure and happiness and love, not of your struggles or your anxieties about the future. He hoped the nightmares were gone and that you didn't have to worry about what was to happen.

He hoped you knew that you weren't fighting your battles alone. He had your back. The crew had your back. They would be okay even if you didn't plan every single thing out to the very last, intricate detail. That you were allowed to calm down, take breaks, and let people take care of themselves.

"I love you." He whispered to your sleeping form.

He wasn't one for heartfelt declarations like that. He had said it before, and the truth of the statement rang true every day he spent by your side, but to hear it out loud was a rarity. You both knew the statement was true, and that was enough.

He said it now. And he would say it again when you woke up. And he would say it again any time you needed to hear it. He would say it a million times as long as you knew it was true. That he loved you.

You didn't respond, he didn't even know if you would be able to hear it, but a tiny smile curved up at the corners of your lips, ever so slight, and yet it was wonderful. He smiled back, just as sweetly as you had done it.

He wasn't sure if you had heard him speak, or if you had just dreamt up something really nice, or even just felt the rumbles of his voice in his chest, but no matter what, he wouldn't mind having to say it again when you woke up.

[romeave]

the real reason why mcd zane sucks, from purely a writing standpoint, is that the writers really want him to be a pure evil villian. a force of evil that can not be reasoned with or stopped. absolutely nuance free and unsympathetic no matter how you slice and dice it.

which, would normally be fine, but is a weird choice for zane specifically because the writers keep naturally bringing up ways to give him depth, only to bend over backwards to shut it down once they remember zane is supposed to be cardboard flat for their kid audience to remember he's the bad guy.

and by all the time i do mean all the time. here is a list of roads blocked off by the no development tree that fell across the road:

Zane grew up isolated even by the standards of noble children, as heirs to the O'khasis throne start their training rather young, and, according to accounts about his childhood, Zane preferred to spend his free time alone as opposed to with family. At some point, his father contracted some illness that turns people into asshole tyrants, and began to groom a very impressionable Zane into a good and obedient pawn for him to control on his quest for world domination -> Zane was actually always evil from birth, which makes him immune to trauma. Garte's dickheadness actually only affected the "good" Ro'Meaves, and actually it's Zane's influence that turned Garte into a bad person. Even shit that Garte did long after Zane died are Zane's fault by proxy.

Zane's strained relationship with his brothers are also largely attributed to Zane being evil. Honestly there's a lot I could put here but the most damning one is probably the fact that Zane isn't allowed to talk about his upbringing at all after vaguely mentioning having a dead brother on the docks.

Zane's initially introduced as an ambitious young priest who came to power due to his commitment to his studies. He secretly uses taboo ancient magic that people can't exactly come across if they don't have an obsessive drive to learn about the divines beyond the church's teachings. -> Actually Zane stole everything from "real scholars" and never actually cared about his research outside of what power it could bring him. Apparently he can't even read for himself without a "real scholar" in the room.

Zane's most terrible deeds (Kiki's pendant, Alexis, Falconclaw) were committed in service of opening the Irene dimension. Its implied that some, if not all of the specific deeds needed to open the portal were decided long before Zane ever got his hands on the amulets. -> Each portal-opening crime is treated as its own separate crime, motivated purely by sadism. Falconclaw specifically is referred to as a "horrific mass slaughter Zane had a lot of fun committing", even though everyone involved just painlessly fell over dead

Zane only raises a sword to people to have actively betrayed him. Jeffory betrayed him, the Wolf Tribe was plotting to eat him the next time he showed up, and Garroth committed treason two seperate times and shoved his own sword in Zane's face before Zane tried to kill him about it -> Evidence that Zane is just a bloodthristy killer who would kill his comrades unprompted. His victims are not traitors, but martyrs to his unreasonable wrath

Zane possessed the protector's relic for a period of time. Surely he must've had some reason to hold it -> Zane was entirely undeserving of the relic. He only had it because blood relations.

Despite already having a relic, Zane wants to get Irene's relic -> Exclusively to hoard power! No personal reasons or family reasons or nerd reasons. Just an insanely dangerous and high stakes task done solely to have them all. Like its a pokemon with life steal.

Zane gets turned into a Shadow Knight. Zane used to have an absurd amount of knowledge on the Shadow Knights, lots of shadow knights hate his gay ass, becoming a Shadow Knight is usually pretty traumati--> Zane doesn't feel trauma, duh!! He's actually stronger than ever.

And I know I'm aphblr's foremost Zane dick rider but this isn't a Zane did nothing wrong post its just bad writing. Zane's actions affect so much of the plot its fucking bonkers to give him the depth of an evil sheet of printer paper. Aph's usually pretty good at fleshing out her villians I don't know why the one guy who everyone and their mother has a connection to is just a knife roomba of a man. At the bare minimum he should've been as fleshed out as his brothers because then it'd be a tragic tale about a family being torn apart by a system they benefit from instead of a karma-farming AITAH post set in medival times.

[bianca-mii]

One of the most iconic kisses between our guitarists from the 2022 tour. I can't write as beautifully as @woodswallow, but I made this gifset as I thought there is a very interesting thing to point out.

The Auslaender outro started almost as usual, with Richard feeling the music probably somewhat more.

But this moment shows one massive difference from arguably every other Auslaender's kiss: Richard is not smiling. He's not focused on seducing Paul with that evil grin. There's no tension, no predatory stare. He is... sad? He looks Paul in the eye, and while Paul is in that playful-teasing-I'm-not-that-easy-to-get mode of his, in which he rather avoids eye contact with Richard, he must realize something is off with the lead guitarist...

But they both go for the kiss. In the beginning, I thought maybe Richard was sad, at least partially, because during some of the 2022 shows Paul seemingly didn't feel like having that little smooch. From what I've read, Paul is very uncomfortable with PDA and, in general, tries to keep his private life as far from the public eye as possible. 2019 kisses were fun and outrageous, which Paul loves, and also had a political impact. But by the half of the 2022 tour, it was obvious nobody cared about any political impact anymore and the guitarists kissed just because they like it. Richard doesn't care if people are watching, he may even like it better that way, so perhaps he couldn't entirely understand Paul's hesitation. Also, on the previous show, still in Europe, their kiss was very quick, too quick for Richard's liking:

He made that gesture with his mouth as if he wanted to say: "Ahh, it ended before I could even taste it!" On which Paul said something, maybe like: "I've told you already: quick pecks - for the audience, the actual kisses - only you and me, no witnesses..." And Richard was like: "Oh, okay, but a boy can dream, can't he?"

Going back to Chicago's kiss: so it's not the case that Richard is sad because he thinks Paul wants no public kisses: they go for it as usual. I also don't think he's sad because he'd prefer the kiss to be longer - that doesn't sound like an actual reason to feel sad. It has to be something else.

Whatever it is, Richard tries to pull away first as he probably thinks the kiss will be over by that time anyway. Indeed, it's usually been (if not any other time) Paul who pulls away first; I also think Richard's hand on the back of Paul's neck used to be there for that extra control, to keep him in place just a little bit longer, but it wasn't hugely sufficient. This time though, again, Richard thinks the kiss will be over just after a moment. But what happens next? Especially from this angle, it seems very clear: Paul doesn't let go. And his reaction is really intense: he keeps his lips locked with Richard's, his right hand, put on Richard's shoulder, grabs it more firmly; you can see all his body leaning on his partner; if you look at his butt, it slightly goes up as he maybe even gets on tiptoe.

I remember reading suggestions Richard was that surprised because maybe Paul slipped him some tongue. I'd love to think that, but what I believe really happened was that Paul sucked hard on Richard's lip to keep their mouths together as Richard tried to pull away.

This is not the best quality, but it sort of confirms that theory: you can briefly see Richard's mouth, and then how it literally gets sucked:)

Paul pulls away when it's over but also slightly pushes Richard: "now, that should do!", but Richard, despite experiencing a massive WTF?! moment, remains sober enough to put some pressure on Paul's nape, doesn't let him go, and pulls him back close again, for a hug. He also starts to laugh so heartily that it makes my heart melt. Perhaps he's realized what face he's just made and laughs, just a little bit, at himself too. Paul, on the other hand, briefly returns the hug, but then is all like: "there, there, don't overdo it, babe." He gives Richard a few pats on the back, like the male friends with no benefits would do - he is back into his no PDA mode, and puts his right hand back on Richard's shoulder, this time trying to push him away.

But now Richard does not have it: "nah love, not so fast, you should have expected now I need to thank you for what you've just done... *mwah*". Another kiss on the lips, brief one this time, and finally Paul can go, obviously showing to everybody: "look! Just look at this little naughty thing right there!", Richard is doing something similar for a moment, too (what a complete pair of dorks:D).

So, I imagine Richard was so surprised because Paul not only didn't want to end the kiss quickly but literally forced it to be longer. I love this moment so much for two reasons: it totally makes sense Paul is uncomfortable with PDA, but as soon as Richard feels worse, or Paul gets sentimental himself (like by the end of tours), Paul stops thinking about any discomfort and goes for it with no hesitation, which pretty much says that comforting Richard is simply much more important for him. I think we saw it here, we saw it during Puppe 2023 or this tour after the German football team lost.

What I also more than love, is how Paul's little mouth-to-mouth treatment really brings Richard back to life and turns the night into the day for him (no wonder, who wouldn't be more than alive if they just got a kiss from Landers himself?). Richard is over the moon here, and seeing him undergo such a 180-degree mood switch is an almost otherwordly experience...

Here's the whole video cropped by me, original credit to till_lindemann_pics on ig. One of the other gifs by @davecumstaine, the other one - I can't tell, I downloaded it a long time ago and can't find it here anymore, many apologies;(

[wenclairfamily]

My Review of the OFFICIAL Wednesday Novelization

Recently, MGM released an official novelization that re-tells the events of Wednesday Season 1. What makes this novelization most notable is that it is told in the FIRST PERSON from Wednesday's perspective. Thus, you are getting the chance to relive the entire first season inside of Wednesday's mind this time.

On one hand, this provides great insights into Wednesday's character, and provides some explanation for certain moments in the show that I originally thought didn't need to be explained. For example, the piranhas Wednesday unleashed early in the first episode... we now know she was able to get them from a pet shop owner after black mailing him with information she had about him and his secret mistress. It makes an already dark moment in the show even more dark, and I love it!

However on the other hand, I sort of enjoyed how in the show: we had to guess what Wednesday was thinking just by looking at Jenna Ortega's face. I think it was way more fun at times to imagine what was going through Wednesday's mind, versus knowing with certainty what she was thinking. Additional criticisms I also have include how the book uses very little of Wednesday's actual narration from the show, and the bizarre choice of skipping certain scenes of the series, while over explaining in details other scenes (including a few short moments Wednesday wasn't even present at).

However all these flaws are made up for with the fascinating insights into how Wednesday views Enid. To be clear, this book does NOT say Wednesday has a romantic interest in Enid. However... Wednesday's first person narration does have Wednesday slowly admit to herself that she does view Enid as her best friend... although Wednesday also admits that is by default, because she also considers Enid her only friend (with characters such as Eugene, Bianca, and Xavier only being described as allies). Throughout the later half of the book, Wednesday also describes herself as missing Enid whenever she's not around, even talking about how she misses the bright colors she wears.

Also, while the book for the most part does not contradict what happened in the show... there is one small retcon the book throws in. As Wednesday wishes to grow closer to Enid, she wishes to find some way she can better relate to Enid, and give them both something in common they can talk about. Since Enid now has a boyfriend, Wednesday (according to her first person narration) decides to try a romantic relationship with Tyler (so that she and Enid can grow closer due to both having boyfriends now). So according to the book... in her own weird way... Wednesday kissed Tyler as a way to get closer to Enid... which I think is a BRILLIANT RETCON!

So while the book is a bit uneven at times (and likely could have used one more rewrite), and does eliminate much of the unspoken subtext that occurred during scenes in the show... it still is a fascinating novel. The insights into how Wednesday's brain thinks is very entertaining and imaginative at times; including fun new dark jokes Charles Addams himself would be proud of. I would not recommend casual fans or people that have never seen show read this book... but for hardcore fans (and fanfiction writers that need some new inspiration on how to write Wednesday): this is definitely worth your time.

[tw1nkd3ath]

i am bored and have had A Long Day so have some party poison headcanons:

•they/them (obviously). their gender is simultaneously every gender and no gender at the same time

•they have borderline personality disorder. this caused them to be extra medicated back in the city. now, they’re finally off of any and all pills, and they’re learning how to actually live with their disorder. loves reading books about mental health, and trying to figure out how to take care of themself.

•speaking of drugs, poison quit the city pills before they escaped the city. they quickly fell into other pills and drugs in the zones though. it was familiar, and it made their brain shut up for once. they have very bad PTSD, more than anyone in the zones. they don’t know just how bad it actually is, and they’ll never speak of it, but the other three know just by the way poison is. they got clean after moving into the diner. they felt safe for once, and the other three were so supportive in keeping them off of drugs. it’s hard to deal with flashbacks and all of that; every day has to be taken one step at a time with them, but they’re making it through.

•loves dancing. more than anything, really. get them drunk and on a dance floor, and their smile is wider than you’ll ever see it. they love parties and clubs, until they don’t and they’re ready to go home. they’ll dance for hours, and all of a sudden they’ll go over to one of the other three and poke them on the shoulder and that’s when they all know they’re getting overstimulated and want to go home and crash.

•yknow how i said they love dancing more than anything? well i lied. the one thing they love more than dancing is singing. they’ll take the AM and go on drives where they sing for miles and miles to whatever’s on the radio. ghoul and kobra make them tapes of their favorite songs, and sometimes the four of them will have carpool karaoke.

•goes for drives to clear their head. they’re normally not allowed to go alone, unless one of the others approves it (poison once wrecked an old car of theirs while angry driving, they don’t wanna talk about it). normally ghoul will go with them, riding shotgun with poison’s hand in theirs. poison drives until they can’t remember what was bothering them when they first turned the key.

•surprisingly a very good cook. them and jet love to cook for the others when they have the ingredients to. poison’s favorite is what they call ‘slutty pasta,’ it’s pasta with a shitload of cheese melted into the sauce. yes, it does make them sick. yes, they will eat it anyway.

•loves looking cute all of the time. even their pajamas are somehow cute and coordinated.

•cannot own un-modified clothes. they have to personalize everything, and they’ve got a whole booth in the diner reserved for whatever patches they’re painting or skirt they’re making or jacket they’re embroidering. dr. death gives the fab four almost all of the art supplies he gets; between poison and kobra they blow through paints and glues and threads and things.

•sketchbooks sketchbooks sketchbooks. they’ve got two right now that they’re working on. they’ll glue/tape little things to the pages, so it’s sort of like a scrapbook with art and writing in it. they will tape literal garbage in it, though. they’ve got the butt of their first cigarette out of the city, a list someone gave them of thrift shops out in the zones, a piece of paper bag ghoul used to scoop weed grounds one time, and so on. the others poke fun of them for this, but they really love how sentimental poison is. show pony has a polaroid camera, and loves to take pictures of their friends and give them the little prints. poison glues them all into their sketchbooks, and looks through them when they’re having a bad day.

•in eating disorder recovery, killjoy style. they hardly ate when jet and ghoul found them and kobra, and they’re trying so hard to help them recover. if poison is struggling to eat a meal in front of them, ghoul will go “hey poison. you’re a pussy if you don’t eat that mac and cheese.” or “you’re not a real killjoy if you don’t eat all those chicken nuggets,” all while sporting a shit-eating grin. poison and kobra have gotten themselves both to a healthy weights finally, and everyone couldn’t be happier.

•cigarettes are their one true love. they first started smoking when they were fourteen. they dislike vaping (even though it’s become quite the fad in the zones, ever since people started smuggling them out of the city), they vaped for around a year and it killed their lungs. cigarettes only for poison, and they’d have it no other way.

•yknow how i said they decorate their clothes? well they also decorate the diner. they’ll hang up art made by them or kobra all over the walls of the diner, and they let kobra paint straight onto the walls.

•loves science for some reason? dr. death gives them all sorts of books on biology and animals and ecosystems and such, and they absolutely love it. they wanna be a biologist in another life. they love teaching the others about shit they read, like animal facts and such. kobra will listen to poison infodump for hours.

that is all for now thank you

[phebess]

Fic authors self rec! When you get this, reply with your favorite five fics that you've written, then pass on to at least five other writers! Spread the self-love 💞

Oof I just looked through my own works page and I think it's possible that I write too much Carlando. But here goes! Some are kind of basic but I have a few sleeper favorites as well.

What Happens in Brazil - The one that started it all. I was so new to writing that I think it *desperately* needs another edit, but I also kind of want to leave it as is - even if it's rough. I still love this story so much and I had so much fun writing it!

Señor Sainz - Another one from the early days. I re-read this the other day and, at the risk of sounding conceited, had a great little time. I feel like I didn't ever struggle with writers block on this fic, so it was fun to read without getting to chapter/scenes I regret writing.

Twin Flame - Look, I'm a whore for a soulmate AU. End of.

Pit Stop Practice - This one is so short, and I wrote it during probably the lowest point of Lando's career, and yet I loved exploring how he handled it behind closed doors.

Number One Fan – I do love this fic, but what makes it a top five for me is the experience I had while writing it. The response to this story, whether in the comments or in my inbox, was beyond what I had ever expected, and it was so motivating to keep going with it. I read every comment and tried to respond to every message, and found myself literally cancelling plans to sit down and write. This fic made me feel so loved, so thank you all for that 🤍

And those are my top five! Thank you, sweet anon, for sending this prompt – it was nice to go back to where things started, and pushed me to give out a much belated thank you to anyone who's ever read something of mine.

[forest-hashira]

Naked in Osaka

hi friends! this is my submission for @pixelcafe-network's "challenge friday" that they do every other week! the prompt this week was a random song selected by shuffle, and my assigned song was "Naked In Manhattan" by Chappell Roan, and after a bit of debate (& some help from friends), i decided to go with shoko for this fic. it's a quick thing, but it was fun! i hope to write more for female characters in the future, and this was a good jumping off point 💜

read on ao3 | wc: ~2.6k | cw: gender neutral reader (no pronouns used, but implied fem reader based on song lyrics), alcohol consumption, making out, implied smut at the end (kinda?), implied first sapphic experience (thus the pride divider), shoko calls reader "cute", minor background stsg

“Please leave your message after the tone.” Beep.

“Hey Sho, I know you just landed, and I know you're probably busy, but I would love to see you, so call me when you can.” 

You sighed softly to yourself as you ended the call, tucking your cellphone into your pocket. It wasn’t exactly a surprise that you’d gotten Shoko’s voicemail – she’d been out of the country on a trip and had only just gotten back – but it was still a bit of a disappointment. You hadn’t been able to see her much since you’d graduated from Jujutsu High together, since you’d moved to Osaka just a few weeks later. She was good about returning your calls and texts, so you tried not to think about it too much.

Despite how infrequently you got to see your friend in person, she never really left your thoughts. In fact, you probably thought about her more than was normal. The two of you had been pretty close in school, spending a lot of your time together, especially when Gojo and Geto were off on missions or otherwise wrapped up in each other. You’d been friends with the boys too, of course, but your one on one time with Shoko was where you formed all your best memories of your school years. Around third year was when you realized your fondness for the other girl may have been more than just platonic, but you never allowed yourself to dwell on it or bring it up to Shoko, telling yourself it was no different than the way the boys felt or acted around each other, so there couldn’t be anything weird about it.

Then again, the boys had gone on to start dating after graduation, and last you’d heard they’d gotten engaged, so… Maybe it was worth revisiting those feelings again.

The sound of your phone ringing pulled you out of your thoughts, and when you saw Shoko’s contact picture – a slightly blurry selfie she’d sent you nearly a year ago while she was out getting drinks with her friends in Tokyo, her cheeks a little flushed and a soft smile tugging at her lips – on the screen, you felt your cheeks begin to burn, as if you’d been caught doing something you shouldn’t.

“Hey.”

“What are you doing tonight?” Shoko asked, and you couldn’t help but smile. Your conversations with her never really seemed to stop or start; instead, it was more like you’d been having one long conversation with her from the day you’d met.

“Nothing,” you told her, idly beginning to pace your room. “What’s up?”

“Figured I’d come see you if you were free. That okay?”

You bit your lip for a moment, suddenly feeling very flustered. “I-I, uh… Yeah! Yeah, that’s fine. That sounds great, actually.” It was obvious even to you that you were stumbling over your words, and you cringed slightly at how weird you sounded.

Shoko only chuckled quietly at you. “Careful,” she teased, “if you act too excited you might give me a bigger head than Gojo.”

That made you laugh. “As if that could ever happen.”

“You’re right,” she agreed, her words airy with laughter. “Does that udon place down the street from you still do carryout?”

“Yeah, as far as I know.”

“Cool. I’ll cover dinner if you’ll cover drinks.”

“Wine or sake?”

“Surprise me.”

She hung up without saying goodbye, though that wasn’t unusual. You glanced at the time, and though you knew you had a few hours before she’d be there even if she’d already been on the train when she called you, you already felt like you were running out of time for all the things you needed to do before she arrived. 

After a few moments of internal scrambling, you figured out a rough order of operations: popping into the liquor store to grab Shoko’s favorite wine, then a mad dash to make your apartment presentable, then finally a shower before she arrived. The trip to the store didn’t take very long, and you tucked the two bottles of wine you’d grabbed into your freezer to chill while you cleaned and got ready. 

Thankfully, your apartment wasn’t as much of a mess as you’d convinced yourself it was, so cleaning it didn’t take long at all, and you were able to hop in the shower within an hour of getting off the phone. The last thing you wanted was to smell when you saw your friend for the first time in over a year, and you knew you were sweating from nerves. It was ridiculous to be nervous about seeing her, you knew that, but this time felt different, somehow. Maybe it was because you’d been wondering earlier that day if you really did have feelings for Shoko.

Whatever the reason was, you were desperate not to smell like nervous sweats.

After thoroughly scrubbing yourself with your best-smelling body wash, you hurried to your bedroom to get dressed. Overwhelmed with options, you threw on some underwear and paced your room, feeling like a nervous teenager.

It’s just Shoko, you reminded yourself, sitting down on your rug. She’s not gonna care what you’re wearing as long as you’re wearing something. A soft groan escaped you then, and you flopped onto your back and covered your face with your hands.

Your pity party came to an abrupt end when your phone chimed. Pushing yourself up just enough to grab it from your bed, you saw a text from Shoko, letting you know her train was about to arrive, and that she’d be at your apartment in half an hour at most. 

The message made your heart flip in your chest. How long have I been laying here? How long was I in the shower?? Instead of letting her in on your internal panic, you shot back a simple “see you soon!” text, then leapt up from the floor, scrambling to find clothes that were comfortable but also somewhat presentable. Eventually you settled on a pair of pajama shorts and a loose t-shirt, then stepped into the bathroom to make sure your hair wasn’t a complete disaster.

You’d only just finished putting your hair out of your face in a way you were satisfied with when you heard a knock at the door. Heart skipping a beat again, you took a deep breath to steady yourself, then hurried to answer the door.

Shoko stood there with a small smile on her face, an overnight bag slung over her shoulder and the takeout in her other hand. “Long time no see,” she greeted, stepping inside as you moved aside. “Is it cool if I go change real quick?” She set the takeout on your table as she spoke, then turned to you and arched a brow slightly.

“Yeah, of course. I’ll get the drinks out and everything while you do that.”

Her smile widened the tiniest bit. “Perfect.”

She made her way to your bathroom with her overnight bag, and as she shut the door, you pulled a bottle of wine from the freezer and two glasses from the cabinet. They weren’t fancy, and they didn’t match, but you told yourself it was better than drinking out of plastic cups.

Once the glasses were out, you opened the bottle, pouring a fair amount into each of the glasses, though one had a bit more; Shoko’s tolerance had always been a bit higher than yours, so you were sure she would want to drink more than you did to make sure you had the same buzz. 

You had just started pulling the takeout from the bag when Shoko came back from getting changed, and your heart fluttered a bit when you saw her. She wore a tank top with a big picture of Gudetama in the middle and a pair of yellow shorts to match. It reminded you of the pajama sets Gojo had gotten everyone when you were in high school – Cinnamoroll for himself, Kuromi for Geto, Badtz-Maru for Shoko, and Keroppi for you – though you knew it wasn’t the same set from back then, since she wore a different character now. 

“You’re staring,” Shoko teased, bumping you lightly with her hip once she was standing beside you. “Do I really look that hot in my pajamas?”

Though her words left you feeling more than a little flustered, you just scoffed at her and rolled your eyes. “They remind me of the ones Gojo got us when we were in school, that’s all.” 

“He got me these ones, too,” she said with a small chuckle. “They were for my birthday last year.”

“Why’d he pick a different character than the one he picked when we were in school?”

“He said the penguin reminds him too much of Megumi now,” she said with a shrug, and you both laughed. You could see the resemblance too, though; both had the spiky black hair and the deadpan expression, and imagining Gojo telling the boy that nearly made you die laughing all over again, but you kept it to yourself for the moment.

Just as comfortable in your home as she was in her own, Shoko opened a few of your kitchen drawers, grabbing soup spoons and chopsticks for the both of you. “We should watch a movie while we eat.”

“What do you want to watch?” you asked curiously, carrying the takeout to your living room and setting it on your coffee table.

“What was that American movie we watched all the time in school?” she asked, following after you with the utensils and wine. “It was about those high school girls who wore pink.”

“Mean Girls?”

“Yeah, Mean Girls!” she grinned, setting everything down before sitting on the floor, gesturing for you to join her. “God, I don’t know how we never got sick of that movie.”

“Because Regina George was hot,” you replied without thinking about it.

The words drew a laugh from her, and she bumped you with her shoulder. “Glad I’m not the only one who thinks so.”

A small, relieved chuckle left you at her teasing words. “I’m sure we could stream it somewhere if you wanna watch it again.”

“Please, I could use a good throwback.” She took a long sip from her glass, then opened the lid on her bowl of udon.

With a nod, you grabbed the remote for your TV, sipping from your own glass as you flipped through various streaming services looking for the movie. Eventually you found it, not even caring that you had to pay to watch it; it was worth it to have a night in with your friend, especially when you knew it would make her laugh and smile more.

Once the movie had started, you finally got into your own food. You smiled when you saw that Shoko had gotten your order perfect without even asking. She’d memorized it in school, but it made butterflies flutter in your stomach a bit to know that she’d never forgotten it, even after so much time apart.

For the most part it was quiet as you watched the movie, only the soft sounds of occasional slurping and the faint clinging noise of glass on glass when Shoko topped up your wine glasses. Every once in a while, one of you would make a small comment or joke, or you’d quote the lines along with the movie before bursting out laughing. It felt like being back in school, huddled in one of your dorm beds, sharing drinks from a flask shoko had managed to sneak on campus.

At some point, you set your glass down after finishing the contents. It had been your second glass – or maybe your second? Shoko had topped you up enough times that it was hard to be sure – and was enough to have everything feeling a little fuzzy around the edges. Leaning back against your couch, you turned your head towards the other woman, smiling to yourself as you watched her, rather than the movie.

She’s so pretty… even prettier than when we were in school. When did she get so pretty?

“I’ve always been this pretty.”

Shoko’s words startled you a bit, and though it took your brain a moment to catch up, you realized she was responding to your thoughts. Only… you must have said all of them out loud, rather than just in your head. The realization had your face burning with embarrassment. “Oh my god, Sho, I—”

“It’s okay,” she assured you with a smile. She settled into the same position as you, turning to face you a bit. “‘M glad you think I’m pretty. Always thought you were cute, too.”

The whole world came to a screeching halt around you. “…You did?”

“Yeah,” she said easily, brushing her hair out of her eyes. Her words weren’t slurred, but you could see that her movements were loosened a bit from the wine. “Thought you knew that.”

“No, I… How would I have known? You never said anything.”

“I saw the way you looked at me. Thought you’d only look at me like that if you knew.”

You blinked, confused, and more than a little worried. “…How did I look at you?”

Her expression softened at that. “The same way I caught Gojo staring at Geto when Geto wasn’t looking, before they got together.”

The words sent a mixture of shame and hope swirling around your tipsy mind, and before you could really contemplate your next move, you heard yourself asking, “Can I kiss you?”

Shoko’s cheeks flushed a bit, and she nodded, shifting closer and wrapping her arm around your waist. Your eyes widened as she came into your space, and when you felt her breath on your lips, your own finally started cooperating with you again.

“I’ve never kissed a girl before.”

“I’ll teach you,” was Shoko’s only response before she kissed you. She was surprisingly warm, and it only took a second for your eyes to slip shut and for you to melt into her, returning her kiss eagerly. As she kissed you, everything else in the world faded away, the only sensation you were aware of was the feeling of her lips on yours.

It didn’t take long for her to press in closer, tilting her head a bit to deepen the kiss. Stumbling and a bit inexperienced, you did your best to move with her. She held you closer with the arm around your waist, her free hand coming up to cup your cheek, guiding your movements the tiniest bit. Time slowed and stretched out, the moment between you endless in the best possible way. You weren’t entirely sure when her tongue came into the mix, but next thing you knew you were parting your lips to let her in. 

A small sound escaped you as she deepened the kiss further, turning slightly to press you both into the couch a bit more. Still struggling to keep up because of the alcohol in your bloodstream, the movement threw you off a bit. Reluctantly, you pulled away for a moment, needing desperately to catch your breath. 

Shoko smiled down at you as you panted, faces only inches apart. “How was that for your first kiss with a girl?”

“I really wanna kiss you again.”

She laughed softly. “Is kissing all you wanna do tonight?” She arched a brow curiously, her thumb tracing your bottom lip lightly. 

“I don’t know how to do anything else,” you breathed, “but I'd love to learn.”

“Looks like I've got some teaching to do, then. Lesson one: kissing with tongue.” She leaned in again, capturing your lips in another passionate kiss. You were more than willing to let her take the lead, though; there was no one else you’d rather have teach you everything, anyways.

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[necrotic-nephilim]

I started in DC by reading fanfics, but as I began to read actual comics, I started to be unable to read the actual fanfic that got me into it in the first place because it's so out of character.

But there are still some stories that I love to read because I love the found family trope so much, even if it isn't really accurate to the source material.

As a comics purist (sometimes), are there tropes that you like enough that you'll still enjoy a fic even if it's not accurate to canon?

oh my god this is SUCH a fun question. bc while i started with the comics, there were certain characters and/or character dynamics where i was exposed to the fanon before the canon (just bc it's hard to read everything when you start out just to read some fanfic) and so i've definitely experienced the fanon to canon transition. (*especially* with Jason Todd. i had only read 80s/90s stuff where he was already dead or the New-52 bc that was on-going when i got into comics and man. the fanon misunderstandings i had about him before i got frustrated and sat down to read all his pre-Flashpoint stuff were absolutely bonkers.) and aside from that, whilst i tend to prefer canon over fanon, i'm not past giving fanon its flowers for occasionally having really interesting insights. occasionally. so some of my fanon "guilty pleasure" tropes would probably be

Morally Grey Tim Drake - this is one where if you try to back it up with canon, i *will* get salty about it. of everyone in the Batfam aside from maybe Bruce and Cass, Tim has the *most* black and white morals. often his internal conflicts are routed in such an inability to compromise his moral views and it can cause him to clash with other characters. he's *very* stiff and rigid in his beliefs and is *rare* to compromise in even the smallest ways. i mean, DC has repeatedly used Tim Drake of Tomorrow/Savior/Gun Batman!Tim for a reason. it's to demonstrate that of everyone, Tim *cannot* have his morals compromised. there's no grey area for him. he's zero or a hundred, so if he tips over the edge of "too far" he tips *all the way*, and doing so is one of his worst fears, how he could go "too far" if he let himself. a couple panels out of context from Red Robin (2009) (which was a grief spiral for Tim to begin with) don't change that. now that said. if it's done *right*, i sort of love Tim being morally grey in fanfic. it takes a specific flavor for me, and it's incredibly important to include that mental spiral along with it, of him struggling to justify it. i don't have any interest in "Tim Drake is loosy goosy with Bruce's morals and has the highest kill count and no one knows teehee" bc it doesn't play with the interesting parts of making Tim morally grey, which are fracturing his psyche. but all in all, i think it's fun to put Tim in a morally grey area and i will read it in fanfic and i enjoy writing it a lot

Joker Junior!Tim Drake - i've not written it on this account (yet) but on my main ao3 account one of my biggest fics surrounds this concept. this is one of those "well *technically* it's canon but only in a specific very divorced from the comics universe and would not work at all in the main timeline" so, i categorize it as fanon in that 95% of fics exploring the concept are not doing so within the Batman Beyond universe, but the main timeline. i just love it. I'll take any excuse to whump Tim, but this concept is so fun. psychologically breaking Tim will always be my favorite pastime. there are so many ways to explore the long-term effects this could have on him, how it could affect the Batfam. i'm not a fan of it being used as a "gotcha" to Jason or Babs' trauma with the Joker to paint Tim as the Ultimate Victim, but it is fun to see how their relationships would be affected by being mutual victims of him. (i have a vague JayTim idea where TIm fully retires from being Robin after being Joker Junior and killing the Joker, making Steph Robin for most of his typical Robin era and Jason still tracks him down out of curiosity bc he wants to know what happened and all. very underbaked but i've got thoughts.)

Renegade/Apprentice of Slade!Dick Grayson - this is another one where yes, this happened *sort of* in canon, but i highly doubt most people writing Renegate!Dick have read or are actually pulling from Nightwing: Renegade. it's just an exploration fo the concept fo Dick being Slade's apprentice and i will always eat it up in any capacity. whether Dick grows up with Slade from a young age, or chooses Slade for whatever reason later in life. it's not anything that works in canon bc it compromises Dick morally (similar to the above with Tim) and therefore will always come across incredibly fanon in most fics. but i can't say i don't enjoy it. it's fun to make Dick a little morally fucked up and see what you can make him under Slade's tutelage.

Jason & Damian Meeting in the League -there's no world where i believe this could work in the canon comics. (maybe in the Young Justice cartoon i suppose, but even then i think it's iffy) i would go as far to say it's wildly unrealistic. i don't see a world where Ra's would let Jason anywhere *near* Damian, bc Jason was Talia's pet project that he didn't approve of. that all said, there's something very interesting about how they *could've* met and them potentially bonding during that timeframe. them being somewhat brotherly during this time because Jason sees Bruce in Damian and sort of latches onto the kid and Damian is full of wonder hearing real stories about Batman and Robin, then that getting violently ripped away by Jason leaving the League is fun to me. it's fun how that could affect them within the Batfam and all. it's super fanon to me, but i do not care. i will eat it up

Bad Dad Clark Kent/Good Dad Lex Luthor - i will admit as a late, i've been less and less kind to this particular fanon bc of everything i've argued with people about, *this* one seems the most pervasive as misunderstood fanon. i don't mind when fanon exists, my gripe is when ppl try to claim it's canon. and the *arguments* i've had over this with people who can never seem to cite an actual comic are... frustrating. but that said, i think there is something fun to this strictly in fanon. the duality of who you expect to accept Kon and who you expect to hurt him being flipped is just sort of fun for the occasional guilty pleasure fic. it can make Kon's internal conflict a bit more interesting. the same goes for the Jon favoritism from Clark, it's not a canon thing (and i rlly wish ppl understood how complicated the timeline of Kon and Jon is and any distance from Clark toward Kon isn't malice, it's that Kon is from a timeline that Clark does not remember in the current canon so Clark just straight up doesn't know the poor kid.) but it's sort of fun to give Kon that complex of being overlooked and forgotten sometimes. making Kon just a *bit* more Luthor than Kent will *always* appeal to me in fanfic, especially if he *knows* it's wrong but craves approval from anyone who will give it.

Good Dad Bruce Wayne - i'll die on the hill Bruce is canonically a shitty father. maybe not to the extreme some people write him as, but he's not great at it. that said, i enjoy it in fanfiction. sometimes, i just want silly fluff or hurt/comfort where Bruce finally gets it right and manages to comfort whatever Batkid is in the fic. one of my favorite fics of all time is hinged on Bruce being a good dad, so i think it's just fun to explore how good the relationships *could* be, if Bruce was slightly less of an asshole. i usually prefer him as an asshole, but there are times i want low stakes nonsense.

Gotham Rogues Having Soft Spots for Robin(s) - just about every Rogue in Gotham has done something absolutely irredeemable, and most of them don't like or care about anyone in the Batfamily. but if there's a fic where one of the Robins inexplicably is sort of close with a Rogue and they have a cute silly relationship out of it? I'll eat it up i fear. Steph and the Riddler are besties? I'll believe it. Tim and Scarecrow get along pretty well? give me ten of these. Rogues protecting Robins just hits a spot. the unexpected nature of the relationship, as well as the fact they see each other regularly, can make a lot of good fodder.