#just an excuse to write this character i just knew

[sozila]

convalescence. (sukuna x reader)

synopsis: convalescence noun. time spent recovering from an illness or medical treatment; recuperation. ryomen s. itadori was a disease that infected every part of your life, and you didn’t notice until it was too late.

pairing: best friend's older brother!ryomen s. itadori x pre-med uni student!fem reader.

warnings: explicit content eventually, mdni.

wc: 9.3k

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you are on: prodromal. (part four)

a/n:

hiii lovelies <3 i wanna start out with an apology because this was much, much later than i wanted to post :( i am so sorry! i really appreciate all the love and can't wait to reply all the comments on ao3 and tumblr :,) you guys are amazing and keep my passion for writing going. anyways, word count is 9.3k !!! record highs breaking every chapter haha <3 i hope you all find this enjoyable after a long dry spell :) and as always, credit to my beta reader @beeh-ive ily bih

ao3 link here.

prodromal. (part four)

sukuna had discovered three key truths when he drove back home after yuuji kicked him out of his apartment. 

yuuji was right about sukuna. it was annoying to admit that his baby brother was right about anything, let alone something so fundamental to his character. it was easier to bark out orders and shelter him from the world. to not hear him be a mature person with complicated thoughts and his own perceptions— especially the ones about sukuna. deep down he knew he couldn’t keep yuuji unaware forever. he couldn’t deny that the events of their childhood scattered his soul, which he has since collected and duct taped together over the years. he knew he was a shitty person. better than anyone else. in the late hours of night he was kept up by the memories of their childhood, ones he couldn't burden yuuji or guilt their grandfather with. it was his to keep and bury within that duct taped soul. he had made peace with it, he thought.

he could respect yuuji’s wishes (withholding some information). messing with you was just an excuse to spend more time in your presence. if that wasn’t possible, he’d find ways around it. a small voice deep down was adamant to say attached to you, everyone be damned. 

he had seen you that day walk into the coffee shop in that gorgeous outfit, skirt swishing with every move of your hips, completely captivating him. moreover, he witnessed how you spoke with suguru and it made something tick inside. he’s never gotten jealous of his best friends, not until this very moment. who was he, that you smiled so big for him? hold on, why the fuck was suguru touching your hair? 

he pulled out a cigarette from his back pocket and lit it aggressively, smoke engulfing the sight before him. suguru was a friendly guy, he was often surrounded with women due to this fact. sukuna was well aware of it; and honestly didn’t care until he was witnessing before his eyes you becoming a part of that equation. 

friend or not, he wanted to barge in there and yank you away from his selfish, dirty and unwelcome hands. motherfucker. 

while his angry thoughts were steaming, sukuna didn’t realize suguru had left and was already making his way towards him at the bricks. sukuna’s eyes focused back and found the man towering over him, a question mark painted on his face. “thinking about something?”

sukuna flicked the ash gathering on his cigarette off of it and inhaled another puff. an exhale. “i’m gonna get a drink really quick.” he couldn’t look at suguru’s face without the urge to pound him into the ground, the scene of his fingers touching your hair on loop again and again in his mind. so, he pushes off the wall, crushing his cigarette with his boot, and makes his own way into the tacky coffee shop. he hated the sugary nature of the place, it was so suffocating. satoru loved coming around to buy sweets, but sukuna never let the man sit and stay at a table if he was dragged into accompanying the white-haired idiot. the girl at the register looked mildly nervous when he stalked inside, which was a common reaction he got given his tattoos and looming figure. sukuna’s eyes drifted to the display of pastries and bread, scanning. he recalled you eating chocolates during your study hangouts with yuuji, the goddamn wrappers always littered on the table. he decided the little chocolate pillow-looking thing (he refused to pronounce whatever the fuck a pain au chocolat is) would suffice, his eyes flitting to the sight of you getting verbally abused by your loud friend. “um.. what can i get you, sir?” the small voice of the attendant brought him back to the front. he nodded, pulling out his wallet. “that chocolate square shit.” she hummed in acknowledgement, and began getting the tong to pack it away. sukuna stopped her. “er.. actually, i’m buying this for someone. you see that girl over there? with the green ribbons?” she looked at him with wide eyes, then found you. she nodded slowly. “that’s my girl. give it to her for me?” “o-oh! how sweet.. will do, sir! anything else for you, then?” he shakes his head. sukuna leaves, paying for your little treat. and now, he waits. suguru looked at sukuna and noticed his empty hands, even more confused than before.

“didn’t you say you were getting a drink?” 

“changed my fuckin’ mind.” 

he pulled another cigarette out to light and his friend sucked his teeth in response. “you really need to find another vice. nicotine is total shit, man. ‘s why i started weed instead, y’know–” 

“suguru, please shut the fuck up.” 

suguru’s mouth pops in mild shock, but he obliges. he knew well it wasn’t worth picking a fight with sukuna when his mood was sour, he learned that by watching satoru try sukuna’s patience on the daily. his eyes trail your figure making your way to the register and the scene unfolds exactly like he asked. he chuckled as you started looking around exasperatedly, finally meeting his eyes. he gave you a little wave. you ignore him, the treatment he’s been getting for a while now. in due time, sukuna thought. in due time he would chip at your resolve, little by little, until your walls completely broke down. discreetly and respectfully, of course.

because above all, yuuji didn’t have to know about his attempts. sukuna didn’t intend to lie, per say.. he just decided he could have his cake and eat it too. said cake being you.

and so this brings us to the final and most universal truth:

3. he needed you in the rawest form possible. the realization was natural. when you had asked him that night upstairs, he was caught up in words because he didn’t want to end up saying the wrong thing– it was delicate. but he needed you. sukuna didn’t know how to describe why in words either.. he was studying engineering, you think he was killing it in english literature?  he just knew the feeling you gave him, the one that ignited a fire in his chest and a desire to orbit your sun. he had decided he wasn’t going to let you put him on the sidelines anymore; developing the fake half-way point to pursuing you in silence.

your internship was much more simple than you expected. while your interest in professor kaito’s research was high and got your foot in the door, the actual work was rather lackluster. you spent maybe three hours at your desk organizing files and sending simple emails, but other than that? you were just passing time. 

you had met her other student assistants a couple days into it, also in your graduation year. a mild mannered blonde man named kento and his super-positive friend, haibara. you thought kento outright hated you in the beginning, but quickly understood he was just another overworked college student. poor guy.

it really helped having something to take your mind off of sukuna’s futile attempts at catching your attention that had begun a month ago.

oh, how he was irking you. 

the bakery freebie was the first of many unnecessary gestures sukuna had done. he had made it a habit to buy you food and have it reach you in the weirdest ways. just last week, he had hit a new low by having a doordash guy somehow get you energy drinks and candies in the middle of a lecture. a note was attached that read, ‘don’t fall asleep, pretty. -s’. you were embarrassed, but thankfully the professor didn’t notice. you also took it up to apologize profusely to the doordash guy for having to fulfill such a weird request— you had handed him a crumpled up five dollar bill from your backpack because you felt so bad. your lunch got paid for randomly, your backpack had tiny presents waiting for you when you opened it, the list was endless. you were not only irritated but also mildly spooked that sukuna was able to evade your presence and manage these stunts simultaneously. he was like a romantic batman. ew, what? no. that doesn’t even make sense.

you were walking up to your apartment door late one night to see a deep red bag with black tulle stuffed into it sitting in front of it. you knew there was nobody else that would leave a gift like this in front of your door, and so you begrudgingly took it inside. it was rather heavy, which made you curious as to what exactly sukuna got you this time. 

as you put it on your tiny kitchen table, pulling tulle away from the bag, you spot the gold-embossed box. it was a really expensive brand you had heard of but never dared to think about buying from. you could hear your parents’ voices echoing in your head about being fiscally responsible, eliciting a shiver. carefully breaking the seal, you lift the lid to see the most gorgeous pair of maroon high-heeled mary janes. and once more, a note stuck to the tissue wrappings:

 ‘for my red ruby girl. -s’

your first emotion couldn’t be anger when the gift was so thoughtful like this. you giddily squeal and try them on— a perfect fit. but how? sukuna never asked for your size.. and you doubt yuuji would tell him without ruining the surprise for you. he’s so weird for that, you thought. 

you walk to your floor length mirror in your bedroom and stare at the shoes, thinking. 

he pays attention to what you like.

this was a stupid realization; he’d been getting you snacks and miscellaneous tidbits that were undoubtedly your favorites for a while. but it hits you nonetheless, your cheeks’ blush growing. you slowly sit on the ground, knees to your chest. what the fuck. you dig your fingers into the shaggy carpet, pressing down hard. you were hoping the hurty-happy ache in your fingers would go away, the one you get when you feel deeply emotional. the attempts he had made were like little vines growing over your heart, ones you had ignored for far too long and now they squeeze you tightly as if to say, “i’m literally never fucking leaving bitch!” 

you jolt when your doorbell rings. a melodic knock follows. “open up, buttercup! i’m hereeeee,” nobara voice was muffled by the door but recognizable enough. you leap to your feet, nearly tripping on your way to throwing the door open. 

nobara takes one suspicious look at your shabbily-hidden nervousness and calls your bluff. “were you watching R-rated shit? because if so i can totally leave, no problem.” your voice squeaks in an ungodly high pitch, spluttering gibberish before you manage an “oh my god no, what the fuck!” she cackles at your reaction and slaps a hand on your shoulder, moving to enter the flat. “you’re so easy to mess with babe, i worry for you at times! really. i do.” 

her eyes catch the shiny box that lay open on the table. “is that xtique? they’re mad expensive, girl! you actually bought something from there?” “no!” you quickly burst, making nobara jump at the sudden denial. “i mean, no, it was a gift from my… father! for the internship.” you point to your feet and she gives an impressed hum. “they’re super sexy-looking. your dad has good taste.. weirdly enough.” you didn’t really know what to say to that without it seeming weird or ruining your last-minute lie, so you just chuckle and nod. 

you like chocolate, especially when it’s melty or gooey in something. you hate tomatoes. which is odd, because you’re okay with ketchup and marinara sauce, but anything with a tomato that the eye can see you don’t touch. you drink a lot of coffee after lectures. you love little cute trinkets, but don’t have that many. 

sukuna was learning about you; and applying the information as soon as he did. granted, you looked positively enraged every time you saw his notes. he also saw your face turn red, so he has to be doing something right. the way your lips quirk for a moment before the eventual frown and looking around for him was pretty adorable. whatever it was, sukuna’s plan was in motion and working as he wanted. the lengths he went for you were unheard of for the usual suitor, but sukuna was a crafty guy (when he wants to be). he tipped off the doordash guy that snuck into your lecture hall an extra twenty dollars in cash to be quiet and unnoticed by the professor. he somehow made friends with the girl at the coffee shop— said her name was christy? kristen? fuck if he knew, to be honest. he really just kept familiar with her so he could have her deliver pastries and coffee from him.  

“this bast– RYOMEN! the fuckin’ oil!” sukuna snaps out of his train of thought to see he was still at work, not in his daydreams. he never got into his thoughts like this, what…? whatever. it was about you, so he didn’t feel as bad. he cursed when he saw the oil pan was slightly away from under the plug, letting the oil spill all over the deck. “i swear to god ryo, you better clean that shit up before you clock out,” choso chided. his cousin-slash-coworker genuinely never caught a break with sukuna and his antics. one of the downsides of working at the shop the family owned, he assumed. but truly, choso was getting gray hairs from the amount of stress that man gave him. sukuna simply waved him off, discarding his rag that was now soaked in old oil. checking his watch, he realized he is close to his clock out time. in five minutes, he messily cleaned up the deck and made his exit, clicking his helmet on and driving out. at a stoplight, sukuna hears some giggling from the car next to him. he pans to see four girls with their windows down, now squealing because sukuna noticed them. one had her phone up, recording him? while another gestures as if asking for his phone number. sukuna scoffs out of irritation. really? he throws up his left hand which was gloved and gestures to his ring finger. they go silent and roll up their windows, embarrassed. a little lie to get them off his case was harmless, he didn’t care either way. technically, it was true he was “promised” to someone, that being you. eventually, he declares in his head. eventually. his head swivels to look at the buildings beside him instead of the cars while he waits for the light to flip. his eyes catch on shiny, ruby shoes in a display of a boutique-looking store. they looked awfully like the ones he saw at your apartment, and at the door the times you stayed over at yuuji’s. sukuna decides to detour and turns into the parking lot for the fancy shop. 

when he walks in he notes it’s rather small, his large frame mildly cramping the area. it was silent and empty, save for the soft jazz playing overhead. a small but peppy old woman bustles out of the back, heels clacking. she was wearing a fancy two piece suit in some kind of purple(it’s periwinkle, but would sukuna really know that?) 

she was about to greet him out of habit when a small “good heavens!” leaves her mouth, in sight of her new customer. she apologizes profusely for the sudden reaction while chuckling nervously. “you’re not our usual patron, you’ll have to forgive me for my outburst dearie!” she runs a manicured hand through her blowout hair, giving a warm smile to him. 

sukuna becomes a bit hyper-aware he was in an oil-stained wife pleaser and slacks, and his usual leather jacket. right. he just grunts and nods, looking around the store. pastel pink and gold adornments littered the walls, the smell of roses infiltrating his nose. all it was missing was you sitting in the middle of it all, honestly. this place was unironically your persona. 

he turns to the display, thumb pointed to the shoes he saw. “you got those in stock?” the lady perks up and immediately gets to work, buzzing around the store to grab boxes. “why of course! is this for a mother, sister? girlfriend, maybe?” sukuna simply nods. “girlfriend.” she giggles melodically, opening and closing boxes. “how sweet of you! she must be one special girl,” sukuna imagines you opening the box and wearing the shoes, your giddy excitement in private. he smiles faintly at the thought. “very.”

she finally finds the set of ruby shoes, and asks him for your size. he replies nearly instantly. he had seen your shoes so many times, the size was always written on the sole. so maybe he had it memorized, no big deal. numbers came easy to him anyways, he dealt with many of them in his studies and job. and maybe he had a section in his notes app for you. 

the old lady quickly wrapped up the shoes and stuffed black paper in the bag to hide the box. sukuna quickly pays, giving her a deep grumble of a thank you. she just smiles and waves him off. “i hope your girlfriend loves them!” as he leaves the shop she sighs with a bittersweet expression on her lips. she misses young love. 

as sukuna leaves the shiny boutique, he looks at the bag in his hand. was he doing too much? he hopes you would like it, and as far as he knows, you don’t own a pair of these in the red he picked. maybe it was selfish thinking that you would enjoy that same red hue you saw in his eyes, especially after that comment that lived in his subconscious. 

your eyes are sanguine red.

he grins to himself, walking a little faster to his bike.

nobara had stayed around for a couple of hours before she called it a night, saying something about how stupid she has to study for her exams when she’s a liberal arts student. you just chuckle and turn her loose. “you’re always welcome to ask me for help," you chide her. she scoffs and pushes you playfully. “no way. you’re like up to your ears in stuff, i couldn’t burden you. and anyways, you’re already helping yuuji and his two brain cells.” she waves you goodbye, and you head back up to your apartment once you see her get into her uber. 

you’re about to flop on your tiny couch when your phone rings. you groan internally when you see the caller id. 

“hello, father.” 

“you need to come home this weekend.” 

you frown. “i’m sorry?” 

“did you not hear me? you need to come home this weekend and help your brother with his entrance exams.” 

you’re in mild shock for a moment, making you go silent. surely he doesn’t think you have time to spend an entire weekend at home. you had so many things to juggle as it was, and your weekend was kind of your safe time. if something bled over from the week, you’d do it then, or hell, sometimes you just wanted to sit and watch a show or two. 

“..father, i’m not exactly free—“ 

“you’re lying. i know how many credit hours you’re doing and that internship of yours is the only extra activity in your time. seriously, when will you grow up? you have so many more duties to fulfill and you’re trying to get out of the simplest one.” 

you had such a difficult time reasoning with your father and it’s been this way since your childhood. he never saw what you wanted or what you accomplished. it was always “how can she benefit the family?” you let out a deep sigh. there was no getting out of this, you accept. 

“i’m sorry, father. i’ll be home on the weekend.” 

“good. your mother keeps asking about your health so don’t eat any rubbish.” 

you make a noise of agreement, but mentally you’re rearranging your tasks for the upcoming week to allocate time for the impromptu trip. he hangs up the phone without a goodbye, as usual. the dread you felt for the first eighteen years of your life settles back into your chest like an unwelcome old friend. you sink to the couch, rubbing your chest to ease the pain. you’re looking at the setting sun seeping in from the window, the light disappearing feeling awfully similar to your emotions right now.

it’ll be just another thing you’ll brave through, you suppose.

kento is washing beakers in the back of the lab room, but you know you felt his eyes on the back of your head. “yes, kento?” you say without turning around. he clears his throat to cover up the cough he let out of surprise. he did not think you would’ve noticed. “you just seem a little downtrodden today, is all.” you let out a sad laugh and walk over to help him dry the beakers. “well, you aren’t wrong, i guess,” you say absentmindedly. you woke up today with the same dread you felt earlier this week, which you had felt every day since the call until today— friday. the gloomy, rainy day didn’t help your mood either. 

“anything i can do to help, maybe?” you smile at your monotonous friend. you learned he was quite caring, but had a hard time mirroring it in his tone of voice. “actually, yeah. do you think you could cover the last hour for me? i’m going home for the weekend.” he nods, putting the last clean beaker in the crate. “no worries. i hope you enjoy your time at home.” you draw a heavy sigh. “i’ll try,” you manage with a deflected grin. 

you wave kento goodbye when you’re walking out the door of the lab, heaving your bags along with you. the rain hadn’t stopped by the time you were walking to your car, so you had to run to avoid drenching everything you had and yourself. 

the drive home was mostly silent, save for your playlist playing softly in the background of the car. the rain slows to a stop when you turn into your neighborhood, which makes you slightly annoyed. couldn’t it have stopped for you when you were getting a cold shower on the way to the car? once you pull up to your apartment complex, you notice something that immediately draws a groan from your lips. 

before you is a sleek black bike, and leaning on it was none other than the object of your irritation. his helmet sat on his seat and his pink hair was moussed by the rain, making it a more deep pink shade. his stupid grin churned your insides. turning the key off in the ignition, you step out of your car, walking towards him. 

you notice his fingers drumming on his seat. he seemed happy to see you? “forgot your umbrella?” he gestures to your head, and your face goes red. your hair was a little out of the ordinary after running through the rain. “shut the fuck up.” you quip dismissively, comb your fingers through your hair to try and fix it– but the moisture had already had its way with you. you give up with a huff. 

your eyes narrow at him. “are you stalking me?” you roll your eyes and cross your arms, clearly not in the mood to deal with sukuna’s games today. he protests with his hands up. “i’m no fuckin’ stalker, sweetheart. just came to drop off your jacket. yuuji said you left it at his place the other day.” you don’t remember leaving anything at yuuji’s, but lo and behold, sukuna takes a jacket out of his seat compartment that looks awfully like one of yours. you stiffly accept it and look away. 

“you free tonight?” your head snaps to meet his eyes and that stupid smirk shone back at you. you turn away to walk back to your car. “nope. sorry! i’m leaving right now,” you swiftly call back to him over your shoulder. because of your height difference, he catches up to you in three strides. 

he grabs your wrist, halting you before you reach the driver’s door handle. “hey, what’s the rush? you literally got back home,” he was right. you did have things to get from your apartment, but you were more annoyed with his ambush that you simply wanted to drive home to get away. 

“can’t you see i’m busy?” sukuna gives you a furrowed expression. “with what?” his gruff tonality replaces the playful one he had before.

you were literally at your breaking point, couldn’t he bother you another day? you yank your hand away from his grip. you give him an icy glare, unwilling to answer him. he takes your pause to maneuver around you and stand in front of the door, blocking you from entering the car. his sharp eyes zeroed in on the tension you’re trying so hard to hide. 

“what’s your problem?” he asks sternly, his voice pressing against you. you clench your jaw, refusing to speak up. you hope he’ll just let it go. 

but he doesn’t. 

he’s still watching you, studying the ticks of your expression, searching. 

“come on,” he pushes, his voice quieter but unrelenting. “what’s really going on with you?” 

why the fuck was sukuna always around you when you were doing horrible? it was so damn irritating. you take a breath, more shaky than you wanted to show him. 

he didn’t miss it. 

you’re fighting back the anxiety and frustration that’s about to spill tears. 

“i’m.. it’s nothing, i just need to go home,” your stomach is turning knots. you hate the face he’s giving you. it’s digging at you, and sukuna isn’t one to back away from confrontation. 

his gaze sharpens, his eyes flickering with something you can’t read. “you mean your family home? like with your dad?” 

he only heard one phone call with your father, for fuck’s sake. you almost felt angry he thought he knew exactly what was going on. your heartbeat was in your ears at this point. “what’s so urgent that you’re fuckin’ running away all stressed?” 

your fists tighten at your sides, feeling the weight of everything pressing down on you. you felt like the muddy asphalt was swallowing you. you didn’t realize you were crying until a tear slid down your cheek. the words followed behind like a tsunami. 

“you think i want to go home?! i get told something and he just expects me to do it with no questions! i don’t even.. i don’t even have time to do this, but he—”

your voice gets caught in a muffle. sukuna had wrapped you in his leather-clad arms, your face smushed in his chest. he smelled like smoke and gasoline, which was weirdly comforting. 

“just.. cry it out.” he mutters. 

his hand is stroking your hair softly, like you were a small child to be consoled. you didn’t care to protest his sudden actions. your fists grip his tank top as you sobbed into him. you don’t know how long you both stood like this, but you could’ve sworn at one point that he was shushing you like a baby, which was again— weirdly comforting. 

when you tilt your head up, eyes red and puffy, sukuna slips a chuckle. you slap his chest, offended. 

“your first reaction is to laugh at my misery, asshole?” 

“your eyes are swollen, sweetheart.” 

you curse and press the cold backside of your hands under your eyes, hoping to reduce the inflammation. you’re both in silence for a couple of moments, him just watching you while you pretended to not notice the holes he was burning into your head. 

he finally spoke up with a hand tapping your cheek. “c’mon, let’s go somewhere.” 

you give him a gaping shocked face. ‘i’m sorry, did you not just see me have a breakdown about needing to go home?” 

he rolls his eyes as if you were acting immature. god, now you know how yuuji must’ve felt growing up. sukuna was definitely as sassy as he was now. “that’s exactly why i’m saying that, idiot. you can go home first thing tomorrow morning.” 

you open your mouth to argue again, but the looming dread you had of facing your father tonight still makes your stomach sink. a night to take your mind off of the stress you’ve been bottling for days.. yeah, that sounds like exactly what you need. you hesitate, glancing up at sukuna’s face, searching for any hint of pity, but all you see is that stubborn determination he had. 

“fine,” you murmur, wiping your hands on your jeans. “but if this is some dumb excuse to make me do whatever you want…” he gives you a sly smirk, visibly amused again. “when have i ever needed an excuse for that?” you smack him again while he walks you over to his bike. 

he grabs the helmet from his bike and hands it to you, nudging you with his shoulder. “just one night, sweetheart. then you can go back and deal with… everything else.” 

you take the helmet and sigh, feeling the dread slowly lift from your chest as you click it on your head. after he climbs on the bike, he stretches a hand out to help you on which you take gratefully. he glances back at you with a soft smile you hadn’t seen since that night you bandaged his hands. 

he feels like a lifeline right now, albeit you didn’t want to admit that. you just needed an escape. 

you nearly scream when sukuna pulls into the “small spot” he said he knew. 

it was a traditional kaiseki house, one that screamed rich and elite. you were wearing casual clothes and your makeup had pretty much melted away after your cry session (you noticed that your mascara had also bled onto sukuna’s white tank top, so you scolded him until he zipped up his leather jacket with a grumble.) 

“you should’ve fucking told me we were going to a nice place, i could’ve gotten ready or something!” sukuna looked practically oblivious. “why?” he deadpans. you fight the urge to facepalm yourself and settle for an eye twitch. “sukuna, look at me.” you gesture to your face and clothes. he’s seriously aloof, giving you a monotone stare. “yeah, i’m looking. you look pretty, why?” oh. there’s nothing you can find to say to that because you genuinely didn’t see an ounce of deceit in his expression. he genuinely believed in what he said, it seems. you process the fact he called you pretty once you’re off the bike, which makes you a little bashful.

regardless, you tried to prim yourself before you stepped inside; praying no one paid attention to you and your unlikely date. that was obviously wishful thinking considering how big of a powerhouse sukuna looked inside the small joint, which made you curse him out mentally. does he eat entire horses? however, the server looked at sukuna with respect you didn’t expect, and sukuna talked to him with ease. you couldn’t believe the sight before your eyes; he was acting like a socialite with insanely proper manners. 

the server led you both to a private dining room, bowing as he closed the door behind you. you unbuckle the ruby shoes you were wearing, ironically the shoes sukuna had gifted you the week before. you hope he didn’t notice. 

sukuna takes the seat opposite you, sitting rather poised and formal. you giggle at him, breaking the royal silence you were in. he frowns at you, miffed.

“what?” 

“you’re like, trust fund boy sukuna right now. you look so serious i thought it was funny,” you explain. 

he grumbles and crosses his arms. “my grandfather… is big on etiquette.” he manages. 

you expect him to iterate further. “…aaaand?” you had sat down, resting your head on your hands, batting your lashes mockingly. 

his frown deepens at your antics. “grandpa owns a lot of businesses, so when me and yuu were young... he made us come to formal dinners. parties and shit. if we acted like fuckin’ animals, we’d get our asses beat.” you giggle at the thought of little sukuna causing a ruckus. 

“i bet you were a handful.” you tease. 

“more like yuu was. unmedicated adhd in a boy is hell.” you agree with a nod. you felt kind of warm inside knowing something new about sukuna. yuuji had told you in the past that they were well-endowed, but these details were cute and… endearing to you. 

“you like them?” you snap out of your thoughts to see sukuna gesturing to your gifted shoes, sitting by the door next to his boots. a small blush dusts your cheeks. “it’s just a fluke… i was rushing this morning and they were the first pair i saw,” your excuse was perpetually lame. 

he nods slowly, amused. “…right, of course.” he lays sarcastically. 

you were about to say something else awkward when the door slid open, bringing the first course along with a round of sake. you both say your respects to the food before digging in politely. the food definitely tasted as expensive as it looked. 

you realize you’ve actually never had a meal with sukuna before. you take note of how proper he eats, which was kind of a surprise for you (again). you guess you could believe him now when he said yuu was worse off than him— that boy definitely ate like a man starved. 

when you finish your last piece, you take a sip of the sake the server had poured out for you. it was much smoother and sweeter than the ones you’ve had. honestly, a little worrying considering how much of a lightweight you were. you decide that’s a dangerous game and settle with nursing the small glass you had. 

“how’s college been, then?” this fucking… you didn’t expect sukuna to do small talk, but here you were. “um, it’s good. a little tedious lately, but i guess i can’t complain,” you chuckle softly. “that kid kento’s in your internship, yeah?” the way he just knew random things adjacent to you was a little scary. “yeah, how do you know that?” “he’s a family friend.” thank god. you were beginning to think sukuna had a private investigator on you or something. “o-oh, how interesting. so you’ve known him for a while?” “his father has been partners with my grandpa since we were young, so yeah.” you simply nod in acknowledgment, unsure of how to continue. this was awkward territory to speak so casually and non-hostile with the man before you.  

“you look like you’re being tortured to speak to me right now.”

you snap to sit more straight and less avoidant, feeling embarrassed he clocked your temperament. “sorry, i’ve not exactly had any real conversations with you,” he looks unphased. “you’re too busy trying to fight me for that.” you give him a frown. “well you’re not exactly a ray of sunshine yourself, asshole.” he simply chuckles and takes another sip of sake. he manages to look elegant despite the fact he’s dressed like a thug. “you’re easy to rile up, sweetheart.” 

you look at him incredulously. “you’ve got to be a sadist or something,” you exclaim with a small scoff. he hums. “not the word i’d use, but if it’s easier for you… sure, i’m a sadist for you.” “for me?” “i don’t mess with anyone else, if you’ve noticed.” you’re mildly confused, given that you know his track record, but you digress. you give him an unimpressed look. 

“…right.” 

he gives you a look back. “fuck you mean by that?” 

“oh c’mon, just because i met you recently doesn’t mean i didn’t know of you before that.” 

his weird look deepens. “oh? and what did you know of me, sweetheart?” he’s absolutely egging you on, but not in a way that’s teasing. he truly wants to understand what preconceived notions you have of him, almost like it was making him upset. 

“i mean… you’re a frat boy, sukuna. you get girls. you party. that earns a reputation, at minimum.” 

he looked a little hurt by your words, but he doesn’t let it stay long enough for you to notice. “tell me this, sweetheart. are you an introvert that only studies all day?” you stiffen. “…no, i’m not an introvert. and i like doing other things too,” “you liked it when i passed judgment on you being nothing but a booksmart nerd the first day i met you?” you shake your head slowly. “then you’re beating your fuckin’ stereotype. just like how i’m not the fuckin’ stereotype others say about me. understood?” 

you start to feel bad that you threw the same callous mindset he’s probably faced before, which was super out of character for you. you were an open minded and intuitive person. “i’m sorry, sukuna. i guess i’m just… having trouble understanding some things.” 

he raises an eyebrow. “like what?” 

“…well,” you take a sip of your sake to give yourself time to recollect. “i guess i want to know why you’ve been gifting me so much these last few weeks.” 

he visibly lightens up, slipping back into his playful demeanor. he purposefully takes a comically long sip of sake, causing you to laugh and smack him across the table, chiding him. “oh my god, stop! you suck, really,” 

he glances at you from the side of his eyes. “i just wanted to.” 

you look into his eyes, searching his gaze. a small smirk plays on your lips. a jolt of confidence hits you as you lean over the table on your elbows. “you got a crush on me, itadori?” 

he matches your energy tenfold, leaning towards you in tandem. you’re almost nose to nose. “inconclusive, sweetheart.”  

you sit back down with a small blush. “you’re not getting compensated for them, by the way.” 

he snorts, a deep chuckle following. “i never expected you to. they’re gifts, sweetheart. and i sure as hell know that little internship of yours pays in pennies.” 

you give him a withering look of irritation. “i get paid in experience, sukuna.” “that’s straight bullshit they tell you, you know that? you realize i graduate this year? already seen the way internships pan out,” true. “potayto potahto, dude.” 

his brows upturn out of amusement. you opt to change the subject from you. 

“you’re a mechanical engineering major, right?” you ask, tilting your head curiously. he just nods, his face giving nothing away. “how’s that, then? fun?”

he fixes you with a dry, almost exasperated stare. his eyes narrow slightly, eyebrows upturned just enough to convey that he’s calling your bluff. “is that a real question,” he drawls, “or are you seriously asking me about my major?”

you clench your jaw, resisting the urge to sock him in the shoulder. instead, you force yourself to keep smiling. “you nearly made me want to explode with your small talk, so just answer the damn question.”

a smirk tugs at the corner of his mouth, and he snorts. “if i told you i find this fun, there’s probably somethin’ wrong with me.”

you roll your eyes and mutter under your breath, “there’s definitely a lot wrong with you, but whatever.”

he raises a brow, leaning in just a bit too close for comfort. “hm? say that louder for me, sweetheart?”

you feel heat rise to your cheeks as your lips slip into an involuntary pout. you hate how you can’t control your expressions around him—it’s like your face has a mind of its own. you avert your gaze and take a long sip of your drink, feigning nonchalance. “i don’t know what you’re talking about,” you mumble, the sake warming you from the inside out as you mimicked his usual unbothered attitude.

without warning, he stretches out his hand and flicks you on the forehead, a light but annoyingly precise tap. “idiot.” he mutters, sounding amused.

you groan, rubbing the spot where he flicked you. “when will you stop calling me that?” you whine, exasperated.

his laugh is low and unapologetic and his eyes twinkling with something irritatingly fond. “when you stop doin’ stupid shit. cute, stupid shit.”

somehow that pulls a genuine laugh out of you. you catch yourself mid-giggle, feeling suddenly self-conscious as sukuna’s gaze softens, just barely, his lips twitching into a smile. he’s watching you with this odd.. elated expression, like he’s seeing something new in you. you quickly clear your throat and try to regain composure, but the grin on your face lingers.

“what?” you ask, embarrassed, still smiling despite yourself.

he shakes his head, almost imperceptibly, but the faint trace of a smile remains. “nothing. just didn’t think i’d ever hear you laugh like that.”

a warm blush creeps up your neck, and you look down, fidgeting with the chopsticks. “i do laugh, you know,” you murmur, trying to act casual.

for a moment, he just looks at you, his gaze unguarded in a way that makes your heart skip. the silence stretches between you, not tense but charged, like something’s shifting that neither of you can quite name. he tilts his head slightly, studying your face as though he’s trying to memorize every detail. 

the rest of your meal with him was filled with this unspoken, almost serene connection that neither of you quite acknowledged, but both felt. the conversation felt more natural and genuine, you couldn’t stop talking it seemed. you found yourself stealing glances at him more often than you meant to, feeling a strange warmth in your chest each time your eyes met. there was an ease to the way you sat together, as if the world outside had faded away, leaving only the two of you in this strange little bubble.

not before long, you both had finished your food with much satisfaction. This is definitely one of the best meals you’ve ever had. when the bill comes, you half expect sukuna to pull out a credit card but instead, he glances at the check just a moment before he pays with a bundle of crisp bills from his wallet. god, that was unnecessarily hot.

"let’s go," he says, standing up. he waits for you to put on your shoes before offering his hand as if it’s the most natural thing in the world.

you take it, the touch warm and solid. he’s particular about the way he holds your hand– not too tight, not too soft. that makes your heart skip a beat. not to mention your hand is small in comparison to his, but a weirdly perfect match. like a peg sliding into a notch. 

as you walk out of the restaurant, you feel the cool night air hit you, a refreshing contrast to the warmth inside. sukuna’s hand still holds yours, his thumb lightly grazing your knuckles as you both make your way to the street.

that’s when you spot it—an unassuming little ice cream stand on the corner, the twinkling of the fairy lights on its canopy making you grin up at him.

you tug on his hand, pulling him toward the stand before he can even say anything. "ice cream." you say with a mischievous smile, not even giving him a chance to protest. "you are legally not allowed to say no."

sukuna gives you a feigned look of annoyance at you but doesn’t pull away. “you’re insatiable,” he tells you, but there’s no real irritation in his tone—just the faintest hint of beguilement. you don’t miss the way his grip on your hand tightens, just a little, when you pull him toward the stand.

the vendor behind the counter greets you both with a toothy smile, and you instantly scan the flavors, your eyes lighting up as you point to one that catches your attention. "i’ll have the matcha," you say, already thinking about how good it’s going to taste.

sukuna gives you a side glance before ordering the most basic thing he could’ve chosen—vanilla. you can’t help but notice the contrast between his choice and yours, and it makes you giggle.

“you and giggling today, i swear,” he teases. you take the cone from the vendor’s hand with a small thank-you, sticking your tongue out at sukuna before giving your cone a lick. sukuna takes his cone shortly after, paying the man. 

walking together, hand in hand, the quiet sounds of the city hum around you. it’s almost too perfect, the way he towers beside you, both of you savoring your cones. despite the fall night being cool, soon your ice cream starts to drip and melt faster than you can eat it. you try to keep up but it’s a losing battle as your hands get sticky and little droplets threaten to trail down your fingers.

out of the corner of your eye, you catch sukuna stifling a snort, his shoulders shaking slightly as he reaches into his back pocket to pull out a crumpled handful of napkins. he must have grabbed them at the stand, almost as if he anticipated this exact moment.

“somehow i knew you’d end up eating like a messy kid,” he teases, his voice tinged more tender than you’re used to. before you can reply, he steps closer, raising the napkin to your face with a gentle hand, his fingers brushing your cheek as he dabs at the melting ice cream on your lips and chin. his touch is careful and surprisingly soft, as if he’s handling something delicate.

“thank you,” you murmur, the words almost a whisper as you meet his eyes. they’re closer than you expected, and you catch your breath as he holds your gaze, just a fraction too long. you look away, the heat of his hand lingering on your cheek, and take another bite of your cone, trying to steady the flutter in your chest.

when you finish, you make your way back toward his motorcycle parked beneath a flickering streetlight. its chrome metal was gleaming in the muted glow. you lean against the seat as he stands in front of you, hand on the seat space beside where you were situated. this definitely feels like a date now, you thought. 

his presence was grounding you in a way that felt both comforting and thrilling. he eats the last bite of his cone before wiping his own hands clean, then tossing the dirty napkins in the bin behind him. “can i ask one more question?” you look at him with a small smile. “sure, sukuna.” 

his hand that was now free of the ice cream cone instinctively goes to your other hip, not out of flirtation, but simply closer proximity. you were in the space between his legs, but it wasn’t awkward. it was just intimate.

“why’d your dad ask you to come home?” you let out a small sigh, brushing your hair out of your face to no avail as the wind pushes in your face again. you look a little solemn as you speak. “he wants me to help my brother with entrance exams for secondary school. i’m really just doing the work of a tutor, which i can’t imagine my father couldn’t afford, especially in terms of my brother.. but, i have duties that are unspoken, i guess. that i’m just expected to follow through. my tuition for university is paid by him, so i can’t exactly ghost my family. and my mom is still great with me, so.. i don’t want to lose her too,” you admit. 

when you finish you realize sukuna’s been rubbing circles on your side, deep in listening to you. “i know family’s tough,” he replies. “but you need to realize when it’s starting to screw you up. i’m sure if i didn’t come to your place, you’d still be burying yourself under all that fuckin’ expectation and you’d be burnt out by the morning.” you nod, the weight of his words settling in, and for a moment, you’re grateful for the honesty he’s bringing out of you. it’s strange, this feeling of openness with him, like he’s peeling back the layers you keep hidden from most people.

“maybe,” you mutter, looking down at your hands, which are still a bit sticky from the ice cream. “but it’s hard, you know? i feel guilty when i consider putting myself first, like it’s selfish or something.”

you hear sukuna inhale deeply, still focused on you. “selfish? putting yourself first is sometimes the best damn thing you can do. you’ve got one life, sweetheart.” he pauses, the weight of his gaze meeting yours. “if you don’t set those boundaries, no fucker’s gonna do it for you.”

his hand brushes a stray hair off your cheek that had been in your face for a while now, and your heart skips as his thumb lingers there. he leans in just a little, enough that his face is close, his gaze holding yours in a way that makes the rest of the world blur.

you swallow, feeling a warmth rising in your chest, a feeling that’s unfamiliar to you. “thanks. i guess i needed to hear that,” you whisper, genuinely touched.

he tilts his head slightly, a small grin tugging at the corner of his mouth, though there’s something softer behind his eyes. “anytime, sweetheart.” 

without thinking, you shift your hand up to rest against his chest, feeling the steady beat of his heart beneath your fingertips.

he raises a brow, an amused but warm expression lighting up his face. “tryin’ to feel me up now?” he chuckles, but his voice is softer than usual.

you laugh, rolling your eyes, but you don’t move your hand. “shut up,” you murmur, your fingers tracing idle circles on his shirt as you both stay there, close and comfortably silent. the connection between you was enough. sukuna’s hand shifts to gently cup the side of your face, tilting you to see him. you really see him. his thumb grazing your cheek, his gaze flickering to your lips and then back to your eyes. you feel like the world has stopped around you two. you feel the subtle pull of his fingers on your skin. your heart beat is pounding out of your chest, and you feel his racing through his jacket too. in that instant, everything feels inevitable.

the harsh honk of a car horn cuts through the air, dragging you out of the moment with a jolt. you blink as the abrupt return to reality makes your breath catch in your throat. you pull away instinctively, breaking the bubble you were in. the realization of what was about to happen makes you nervous and almost scared. suddenly, you felt suffocated again. you shift, fumbling your fingers with your head down. 

sukuna stands still, silent. his hand that was almost ready to pull you in rested at his side now. his expression was rather blank, but different about the way he’s watching you. it’s quieter, more reserved, like he's waiting for you to say something—anything—to bridge the gap that’s formed between you. his jaw tightens slightly, just a hint of frustration, but he says nothing. he doesn’t rush to fill the silence. his silence is weighty, deliberate, and you feel the intensity of it even more because of it.

you glance at him quickly, and for a split second, you wonder what’s going through his mind. he doesn’t look at you with expectation but with that unreadable intensity that seems to pierce straight through you. you swallow, breaking the silence first. “sorry,” you manage, the words coming out squeakier than you intended, the awkwardness making you want to jump off a bridge. god, strike me down now or so help me.

“don’t apologize,” he rasps, his voice low, rougher than before. it’s not a demand, more like a quiet statement of fact. “you didn’t do nothin’ wrong.”

his words hang in the air, steady and unyielding. it’s not comforting in the traditional sense, but it’s there—uncompromising, like he’s just being real with you. there’s no pushing or attempting to rush things. he’s waiting for you to say what you need to say, or to fall silent again. like whatever you do, he’s not going anywhere.

you instead opt to pivot like you usually do, and turn to get on the bike. you check your phone and give a fake little chuckle. “it’s getting so late, wow! we should head out. yeah?” sukuna realized you were definitely feeling weird about the moment you just had, so he wasn’t going to make it ruin the night you both had enjoyed so far. he only nods. “lemme take you to your place.” 

the ride was weirdly quiet, even though you never spoke on the bike anyways. it was too loud over the roar of vehicles on the road. when sukuna turns into your street, you feel a wave of nervous energy pulse through you again. 

the bike slows as he pulls up to the curb in front of your building, the streetlights casting long shadows across the pavement. sukuna parks, but doesn’t make a move to dismount right away. he keeps his hands on the handles, his body still. it’s as if he’s waiting for you to move first. 

you shift off the motorcycle and walk to his side. you don’t give yourself the chance to second-guess it. sukuna looks like he’s about to say something when you press a soft kiss to his cheek, fleeting and sudden, just enough to catch him off guard. for the first time ever, you saw sukuna blush. before he can say anything, you step back already turning on your heel to run briskly towards the entrance of your building, heart hammering against your ribs.

“goodnight!” you call over your shoulder, your voice filled with the adrenaline rush you were feeling. you don’t wait for him to respond as you push open the door and slip inside quickly. the cool air of the building is a sharp contrast to the warmth that still lingers on your lips. You press your fingers on your lips, feeling your heartbeat even in your fingertips. you seriously don’t know what you were thinking… tonight’s feelings are swirling around you as you make your way up the stairs to your apartment.

sukuna was sitting for five minutes on his bike in front of your apartment, brain flatlining. he was going to kiss you. he was so close to your lips. he thought that chance encounter was the most he was going to get tonight when you decided to do that and have the gall to run away. 

he didn’t wash his face that night.

a figure with shoddy blonde hair puts out his cigarette stub on the wall, exhaling the last drag he had. the rooftop was empty, save for his friend. mahito sucks his teeth and throws the bottle of beer he was drinking on the ground, the shatter echoing in the dark night. 

“fuck, man! what are we going to do about that motherfucker?” he seethes, face red from his drunken rage. 

naoya chuckles at his lack of control. he didn’t seem as pissed about the whole ordeal, especially not as much as mahito. the fraternity wasn’t everything to him. and he knew good things come to those who are patient. 

“don’t think about him. we need to focus on the bitch that curved you,” naoya tells him coolly. 

mahito nods slowly, raring up with hype. “yeah… yeah! that ugly whore that got me jumped!” naoya just stares out at the buildings below, unbothered. 

“she’ll pay, mahito. just wait.”

sooooo :) how was it guys :) as always i live and breathe for comments (and all reactions hehe) so please don't hesitate <3 i try my best to reply to everyone in a timely manner, but please have mercy on me if i don't </3 love you all!

peace luv bathtub!

taglist! @kawliflo @deepcloudspyhairdo @aldebrana @marie-is-in-the-dark @emoedgylord @gojoscumslut

comment to be added to the taglist! will be capped at a certain point! much love <3

© sozila 2024, all rights reserved. please do not plagiarize, translate, or repost any of my work on other mediums or sites. cross-posted on ao3 and tumblr under same alias.

[alchemiclee]

been looking in tags for a few days now to see if anyone else found the whole high cloud quintet and related story to be a bit.....poorly written, nonsensical, contradictory, full of plot holes and loose ends, etc. apparently i'm not the only one. (and i'm not even talking about shipping stuff, because any time I saw someone mad about bad writing, someone always replies to be homophobic and laugh about failed ships. weirdos.) it could have been so good but was thrown into the garbage for the most part (IF you noticed all the plot holes and contradiction. if not, then it's a fine enough story tbh. I expect most people to see it on surface level and not read all the little hidden lore bits and try to piece it together like my autistic brain did. which is ok! enjoy it if you liked it and ignore me 😆)

[hakugreenfinch]

when they said a masters thesis is more difficult than a ba thesis i didnt think they meant "nobody cares about your masters thesis"

[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.

[thehauntedetheral]

YANDERE ASSASIN

Requests are open !

• You and your husband has been married for 2 years now. And you were happy with each other.

• You are an accountant for a company while your husband is an engineer.

• You were like any other normal couple working, eating dinner together, going out on weekends, doing the usual day to day stuff.

• But one thing you didn't knew was that well your husband is an fake engineer who pretends to be one.

• In reality he is a most sought after assasin who is hired to kill top level people.

• The "I have to go out for two days for a project darling" is nothing but a excuse he gives you to go and kill his target in another state.

• Have guns hidden in various places in your shared home for " safety purpose ".

• One time you found one of his gun and asked him why is it here? "Hehe well darling the crime rate is increasing day by day I bought it for us for our safety I even have a legal licence for the gun." (Yes a licence for being an assasin)

• This is the same man who melts into your arms, follows you around the house like a puppy, looks at you like you hung the moon and stars and also the same man who doesn't miss his target even from miles and shoots them mercilessly.

• Hits all the target in a shooting game giving you a huge stuffed teddy bear while saying "Beginner's luck, baby."

• Yan vowed in the beginning phase of his job that he would never get married due to his job risk but you entered his life, made him break his vow as he asked you to marry him after falling so desperately in love with you. How couldn't he? You are just so damn perfect.

• You mentioned in a conversation to him casually how a co worker creeped you out by his staring. Boom from next day the co-worker now always avoids you like plague. (Because some unknown assasin threatened his life if he ever came near you)

• He has never been guilty in his life for killing people or having it as job but becomes guilty in a millisecond when he sees you sad thinking how bad of a husband I am? And to make all the clarifications clear you were not sad due to him you were just having your usual period mood swings. Because no way in hell this man would ever make you sad. Before making you cry he would shoot himself with his own gun.

• You both were watching an assasin movie on a weekend and you said how good looking and skilled that assasin the movie character is.

Meanwhile Yan's Mind : Control your self yan no need to be jealous you are better than that freaking stupid looking loser assasin. y/n just doesn't know. Control.

• Yan at a Halloween night comes home after shooting his target with a little blood on his clothes wearing his assasin black clothes and a gun in hand knowing full well that you are at your friend's house. Only to be surprised that you are at home throwing him a suprise Halloween party with others. You looking at him with a confused look as he stands on doorstep shocked.

Yan : Suprise baby!!! I came up dressed up as an assain that you liked in that movie. I hope you like it. (Saying with an akward smile while telling himself to not be so reckless next time)

Meanwhile the people at party who know the true Yan : 🧍‍♂️

• Is so damn protective of you due to his work line that whenever he leaves for days makes sure your friend stays with you and making sure you are safe through all the hidden cameras spread all over the house.

• He loves you a lot. He might be a deadly assasin to the whole world but he is just a normal engineer madly in love with you who just wants to devour you whole so no one else can have you.

• Reader to their friends : My husband won't ever hurt a fly.

Meanwhile Yan listening to this conversation: 🧍‍♂️

• When he is off duty he just spoils you with his cooking and spending all his time with you cuddling watching shows and just talking.

• Prays to god that you never found out about his true job afraid that you would get scared and leave him.

For more yandere reading :

[cinnamorollcrybaby]

How do you think Nanami would announce your pregnancy to Gojo and the jujutsu high cast…. Possible fic idea?

Rainbow Baby

Tags: Nanami x fem!Reader, ANGST, HURT/COMFORT, TW- mentions of a previous miscarriage, (is not described, but it’s heavily referenced), grief, tooth-rotting fluff at the end, happy ending that you and nanami deserve.

An: This is def not the fic that I accidentally wrote about the wrong character for. I definitely did not write this entire fic about Satoru before rereading your request and seeing that you clearly wrote for Nanami.

Nanami is a private man — not secretive, just private. While he loves when you visit school to see him because your presence eases his weary mind, he doesn’t flaunt you around to his coworkers. It’s honestly just a known thing around the school that Kento has a very pretty wife who he doesn’t introduce to anyone.

There is only one exception to the rule: the man who isn’t afraid of anything and has no concept of social boundaries, Satoru Gojo.

Nanami watched in utter disdain as Satoru always found a way to inset himself into yours and Nanami’s conversations. He never bothered to hide how much Gojo gets on his nerves.

However, Satoru gets a pass. Nanami may shoot him death glares and give him short, irritated responses, but Nanami will never shoo him away.

Satoru gets a pass because he was the one who made sure you and Nanami didn’t drown in grief when you two lost your first little one.

Nanami hadn’t even told anyone that you were pregnant yet — it was so early on. You two were still enjoying keeping it a small secret between you two. However, Gojo picked up on it immediately after seeing you. You weren’t showing, but he could see the small bundle of yellow and orange energy radiating from your tummy with his six eyes.

To Nanami’s surprise, Satoru didn’t make a huge deal out of it. He shook Nanami’s hand while whispering a quiet congratulations into his ear. Nanami laughed as he realized that Satoru knew, and he pulled the white haired male into a hug.

Satoru immediately knew something was wrong when Nanami didn’t show up for work the next week. Deciding to check up on his friend, he stopped by yours and Nanami’s house.

Nanami looked like a wreck compared to his normally put together self when he answered the door. His skin was pale, dark bags under his puffy red eyes from crying. He was wearing a shirt and grey sweatpants. You looked even worse…

Satoru didn’t need an explanation whenever the small bundle of energy was no longer present in your tummy.

If it wasn’t for Satoru, Nanami was sure that the grief was going to consume both of you. You were… you were understandably a wreck, and Nanami was so heartbroken himself that he struggled to hold you together. He was the man of the relationship, but he lost a child too. He had to witness his wife go through the worst pain imaginable, and he couldn’t do anything to stop it.

Satoru checked up on you two often. He never mentioned what he knew, which was comforting. He was just always there with a kind smile and food plus desserts. Even though you and Nanami barely would eat anything, Satoru would come over anyways.

He was the only thing constant and stable in yours and Nanami’s lives. He was the only one who knew, and he helped you two out with a level of empathy and care that Nanami didn’t know he was capable of. The house would get cleaned. Food would be served. Different bills and other miscellaneous items ended up being paid.

Soon, the grief became easier to deal with. You and Nanami learned how to cope with the loss and start living again. The grief books lie by the way. You never truly get over the loss of a baby. You just learn how to live with the subtle ache in your heart.

It sneaks up on you sometimes. You see a small baby on tv, and you’re in shambles. Nanami watches Kusakabe announce his wife’s pregnancy, and he has to excuse himself to the restroom for a breather.

Satoru spent father’s and mother’s day with you and Nanami. It’s not like he had any family to celebrate with anyways. He brought you two gifts - making sure to remind you two that you are still parents. Your little one just isn’t on this earth.

So when you see those two pink lines on a test a year later, you feel your heart stop. You can’t take another heartbreak. You’re so scared; you don’t even want to tell Nanami. You two weren’t exactly trying for another baby, but you weren’t preventing one either.

You and Nanami celebrated, cried, laughed, rejoiced, mourned, grieved, every emotion hit you two like a truck when you revealed your pregnancy to him.

You don’t stop by the school for a little while. You and Nanami are both not ready for Satoru to find out… especially not during the first trimester when it’s possible that miscarriage can happen again…

Once you hit 20 weeks and know the baby’s gender, you finally think it’s time to let Satoru know. Nanami reluctantly agrees — also because Satoru has been hounding Nanami for weeks about where you’ve been. Satoru misses the cookies you’d always bake for him.

“Do you have plans for dinner tonight?” Nanami asks the white haired male at work that evening. Satoru immediately perks up, knowing this is basically an invitation to come over.

“Nah, I was thinking about getting hot pot. Why?” Satoru asks, trying not to sound overly excited, but it’s a rarity when Nanami formally invites him over. He also hasn’t seen you in so long. He wants to spill all the new tea to you since you like that sort of thing, unlike Nanami.

“My wife baked those cookies you love so much. You should stop by tonight.” Oh, and Satoru was getting sweets? Hell yeah.

Though, the cookies wasn’t the biggest treat of the night. When Satoru enters your home behind Nanami, he walks to the kitchen where you’re standing over freshly baked chocolate chip cookies. Your tummy is rounded, and there’s a strong accumulation of golden energy residing in you.

“You’re-!?” Satoru’s eyes widen and he flicks his head quickly between you and Nanami. Your husband playfully rolls his eyes, but his smile tells you everything you need to know. He’s proud to be announcing your pregnancy.

“Yes, she’s pregnant.” He answers with a laugh, and Gojo pulls him in for a tight hug. Even if Satoru lacks some social skills, he’s able to read people like a book. He knows that this is all you and Nanami have ever wanted — a little family to call your own.

Now, imagine his big blue eyes welling with tears when he sees the cookies have writing on them.

“Nice to meet you, Uncle Toru!”

Now, imagine how fucking ecstatic Nanami is when he finally gets the privilege to announce your pregnancy to the rest of the school. He’s private with his life, but after everything you two have been through, he happily announces your pregnancy to anyone — everyone.

Oh, and your baby girl, Satori, was born happy and healthy. Besides you and Nanami, Satoru was the first one to meet your sweet baby. Yes, he cried like he was the baby when he found out about her name.

[reiderwriter]

🩺 Protect and Serve 🩺

Spencer Reid x stripper! Female Reader

For the CM Kink Bingo Challenge

Summary: Spencer makes a fool of himself in front of a very pretty nurse. Who turns out to not be a nurse at all, but a stripper.

Warnings: Erotic dance, pole dancing, uniforms, doctor play (?), semi-public sex, fingering, strip tease, nipple play, use of birth control - condoms, penetrative sex (PinV).

A/N: He's protecting, she's serving cunt. That's the pairing dynamic for this fic. I love writing Spencer as dumb because he does canonically lose it around hot people, and we, dear readers, are all hot people. I added the strip tease song below of you want to really get in the mood!

Masterlist || Bingo Board

“Okay, everyone, listen up,” Hotch called out to the masses, the three teams of officers, and his own team who were lined up and ready to receive orders. 

“We're going to do a simple canvass. Ask anyone you spot if they've seen our missing person and if they've seen any suspicious activity around the area in the last month. You have further lines of questioning laid out in your briefs. Also, we have no reason to believe the unsub will be hunting right now, so we're going to be canvassing individually.”

The crowd nodded in a wave of understanding, taking the information as it came before getting ready to receive their areas to work in. 

Spencer had devised the map himself, so he didn't have to wait in line, instead, walking to his corner of the block and getting himself ready for interactions. 

The clock struck 11, and he began, waiting for the usual shaky characters of the night to stroll out onto the streets. After a series of abductions from this area, and the general disrepair of all local CCTV cameras, the BAU knew exactly where their unsub was hunting from, but not the how, the why, or the who. 

In a last ditch effort, they'd turned to goodwill from the public. 

“Excuse me, sir, do you have a few minutes to answer some ques-” 

“Go fuck yourself.” 

“Okay, have a great evening.”

For the best part of the first hour, all of his interactions were the same repeat of hostility and general apathy. For long stretches of time, nobody walked by at all, and some were even growing frustrated by being accosted by multiple law enforcement officers within the hour.

He'd almost lost hope for a lead when the clock struck twelve, and you'd ran around the corner, nearly bowling him over as you raced to get to work. 

“Shit, oh, I'm sorry-” you said, realising you'd landed in a soft place, and not on the tarmac you knew from experience was a pain. He'd accidentally broken your fall and was all the more sorry for it. 

“No, it's okay… ah, um, it's not that bad.” 

You stood yourself up, removing yourself from the body of the stranger. The body of the man wearing an FBI jacket, who you now recognised as being with one of the dozen or so cops that had stopped you in your dash from your car (parked further downtown so it wouldn't get stolen) to your place of work. 

“Oh, god, I'm so sorry, officer. I didn't mean to- I'm sorry,” you mumbled again and again as you offered him a hand up. He took it hesitantly, grabbing his papers as he jumped on this opportunity to have a conversation with the first normal looking person he'd come across in an hour. 

If he'd been less eager, less tired, and in all honesty, less immediately attracted to you  he'd have realised that you had a destination in mind. One that, while being above board mostly, still made you weary of cops. 

“It's Agent actually - Doctor, but- anyway, um, could I possibly have a few minutes of your time? We're looking into a recent string of abductions in the area, and we’re asking if you've seen anything out of the ordinary.” 

You stood trapped by his surprisingly wide frame, his height dwarfing you by a few inches and the path being just narrow enough that you either had to decline politely, or just push past him to keep going. 

Unfortunately, you, too found him slightly too attractive than you were willing to admit, attractive enough that you'd gladly miss out on a half hours worth of tips to answer questions you'd honestly already answered before now. You'd always been weak for a man in uniform.

“I-I guess so. This will only be a few minutes, right?” 

“Of course, I wouldn't want to keep you from your work,” he said, gesturing down at your outfit. If it weren't for his totally genuine tone, you'd have thought he was being cruel. 

Usually, you didn't show up for work in your performance clothes, trying not to draw any more attention to yourself on the streets at midnight, but you'd been forced to that day. 

It was Uniform Day at the strip club, and your boss was entirely too cheap to buy the Uniforms himself, and absolutely cruel enough to penalise anyone who showed up without some kind of costume. Your nurse outfit had been in transit and out for delivery since 10 am. that morning, arriving exactly 10 hours later. 

It wasn't exactly a realistic cosplay. Sure there was a cute pen clip, and you were technically wearing scrubs, but they were also skin tight, and you knew for a fact that your nipples were hard and visible through the thin material, because taking a glance down, even you could see them. 

“Do you usually work the night shift?” He asked, bringing his clipboard up to take notes of your answers. 

He absolutely did not know you were a stripper. 

“Yeah. We don't really get many people in during the day. Too embarrassing, not the time for it.”

He nodded and tried to pretend like he was writing something of merit down, but secretly, he was very much enjoying the curves Of your body as the tight material hung off your body. 

The “scrubs” were baby blue  but he had no doubt that if the heavens opened right, then they'd become as see-through as cling film. 

He, too, wanted to cling to you. 

“Have you noticed anyone suspicious in the area recently, anything new or out of the ordinary?” 

“I mean, I couldn't possibly say. You know how this neighbourhood is, it's… well, it's not exactly the safest.” 

He nodded again and acted out sympathy, unaware how the feeling should feel now that he was faced with a woman so perfect that he'd entirely lost the ability to process emotions. 

“Right, right…” 

You stood for another moment or two, waiting for his follow up question, but his eyes raked over you in a way you were entirely familiar with. Unlike your usual clientele though, he snapped himself out of it, and had the wherewithal to look bashful. 

“Ask about victim, no leading questions,” he read quickly, before looking up at you and stammering through a new question. 

“S-so. Are there usually a lot of women walking around this area alone at night?” 

You did your nest to hold off a smile, to stay serious as he made the best of the script he was given.  

“Yeah, a few of the places have staff on hand to protect the girls, but my place is mostly women. We stick together as best as we can, but a client or two gets too attached now and again,” he nodded. 

“Patients can often become infatuated with their care staff,” he said, and he was so earnest that you wanted to take everything back and let him go. You wanted to see how long it would take him to realise there was only one body part you and your colleagues cared for. 

“I did think the industry was becoming more gender inclusive. Are there no men on staff?” 

“Oh, yeah. We have men, too. They're mostly request only, though, so we don't see them every day.” 

“Fascinating! You know, believe it or not, anthropologically, humans are predisposed to view women as more caring and are 9 times out of 10 more likely to ask for women to care for them, the gender of the patient doesn't impact the data.”

“Oh, I can believe it.” 

You smiled at him, and he looked taken aback for a minute or two. He finished by smiling back, and you definitely found this conversation worth as much as you'd lost in tips in the last half hour. You were half tempted to invite him back to the club with you for the night, to thank him for providing you with motivation for the night ahead.  

“Um, so, if you do see anything in the future, you can call the police and here is my number,” he said, scrawling something down quickly on a piece of paper and handing it off to you. 

“Oh. Oh, um, right, number. Uh,” you said, rooting around in your purse for your own business card to hand off to him. Partly because you wanted to resolve his misunderstanding, and partly just because you wanted to see what this overly respectful man would do with it. 

“Candy Cayne,” he read, obviously looking past the body glitter that covered the cars and everything else you owned. 

“Well, my real name is Y/N, but you can't be too safe these days.” 

“Right,” he said, smiling again. 

If these were the FBI agents put on the case of making your city safer, maybe you'd invest in a good taser and some more pepper spray. 

Just in case. 

“Spencer, over here!” One of the other agents you'd already spoken to called out from a block down the street, and hastily, Spencer Reid excused himself and let you finally continue on your way to work. 

You had to convince yourself you weren't disappointed. 

Morgan’s brows were furrowed as Spencer reached him. 

“Why were you interviewing the stripper again, I already got her information when she came by me.”

“Stripper? What stripper?” 

“You gotta be kidding me.” 

Morgan looked at the younger man incredulously before turning him around with a hand on his shoulder and pointing in your direction. 

“That stripper, Spencer.” 

He couldn't help but let his eyes trail down to your ass as you quickly walled off, hips swaying perfectly, showing off your complete assets in the tight outfit. 

“She's a nurse,” he defended, even as the blood drained from his face. 

“Uh-huh, and what's her name?” 

“...Candy Cayne,” he paused for a second before turning back to Morgan with a stricken expression on his face. 

“Oh my god, she's a stripper.” 

Five hours into your shift, and about $800 richer, you found yourself swinging around the pole freely again as your regulars slowly trickled out. 

You kept on dancing, though, knowing that the morning crowd was about to get in, the night-shifters that had to wait the entire night to get off on your dancing delights. 

Truckers you expected, security guards and night watchmen, too. Even the occasional older gentleman who found it hard to sleep in the mornings, so bored by retirement, they dropped in a few times a day. 

What you weren't expecting was Spencer.

You heard the door open, the bell ringing out loudly as all the girls stopped to greet their new target. 

“Hello, baby,” one called, the others chorusing around her. 

“Oh it's free for you, sweetheart.”

“Wanna take a ride?” 

“Aren't you just the cutest.”

Spencer spotted you - and your uniform - very quickly. 

As predicted, with a little bit of water, your uniform had gone see through with the tiniest drop of water, the sweat from your ongoing workout and the body oil the matrons lathered you up in before showing off everything. 

Still, Spencer tried to keep his gaze polite as he stood awkwardly at the edge of the stage and tried to engage you in conversation. 

“Hi,” he said, shouting awkwardly over the music. 

You shot him a confused look as you ground against the bar, still enjoying the tips of the last few stragglers. You gave him a confused look as you wrapped yourself around the pole, lifting yourself up and gripping the bar between your legs, pushing your chest backwards as you tipped your head upside down. 

“Can we talk?” He asked, and you, slowly but surely, let go of the bar, ending on the floor with your legs spread wide as the few men enraptured by you wolf whistled and swore. 

Finally, Spencer's bashful gaze dropped from your face as he stared at your scantily clad cunt. 

The baby blue underwear - though you could barely call it underwear as you were barely wearing it - was most definitely not leaving enough to the imagination. Combined with the very clear view of your boobs, Spencer wasn't surprised when his IQ abandoned him, rushing to his second head to let it make mistakes. 

“I'm sorry, officer,” you said, winking at him as you crawled forward, collecting tips as you went. “If my boss sees me talking to you instead of working, I can get fired. Tell me you've got at least a twenty on you.”

He scrambled for his wallet, pulling out all the cash he had and holding out a few dollars to you as you watched him. 

He looked away again, just as you leaned down to take it, and you pouted again. 

“Come on, sir,” you said, wiggling your ass a little to keep the other men entertained while you wore down at his morals. “You have to stick it down my shirt or something. Make it believable.” 

His eyes snapped back to yours, and then immediately to your chest as you sat back on your knees and began playing with yourself, grabbing your tits and bouncing up and down as you showed off your special ‘skills.’ 

Hesitantly, he reached out a hand, and, hating how slow he was going, you met him halfway, pushing your chest into his open hand. 

Though he was apprehensive, his body seemed able to take advantage quickly, and upon depositing the cash, he let his hand trace down the curve of your breast, squeezing it a little. 

“I came to apologise-” he started, trying to remind himself to stick to the script he created for himself. 

You didn't want to stick to any script. 

“Boss, I've got a private dance!” you shouted out to the bar staff, getting a thumbs up from the manager there and a call back of a room number. 

You grabbed the rest of the cash from his hands and lifted a hand so he could help you down the stage stairs, leading him quickly to a private room and closing the door. 

“T-There’s been a mistake, I just came to apologise for my unnecessary comments earlier, and-” he paused, hands lifting up in surrender as you straddled him. 

“What are you doing?” 

“You can talk, but you paid for a dance. I thought this would be better for you, more private.”

“Oh, yes, thank you, that's very considerate.” 

You nodded and began raking your nails down the front of his shirt, loosening his tie a little as you rose on your knees and gyrated your hips. 

His gaze locked eyes with your chest, and for a moment, you worried he wasn't breathing anymore, his entire body having stilled. Then you rocked your hips down into his lap, and you realised he wasn't still but stiff. 

He was rock fucking hard. 

You grinned, and tried to pick the conversation back up with a casual tone. 

“So how is canvassing going?” 

“Hmm?” He said, unlearning. “Oh, uh. Good. We have a few leads we're going to investigate in the morning.” 

“It is the morning, officer.” 

He nodded and gulped, but his gaze had rested gently against your bare skin again. 

You decided to treat him. 

Standing back up, you grabbed the room control and queued up your favorite track to dance with. The private sances were usually boring, a constant reminding of ‘don't touch the dancers’ dropping from your lips as you half-heartedly rocked back and forth. 

Unsurprisingly, though, you actually wanted this man to touch you. 

Spencer willed his brain to quiet, though as it had taken up residence in his pants, he doubted it could hear any of his requests. 

The opening lines of "I Put a Spell on You" by Annie Lennox played on the quiet room speakers, and you watched his hands clench into his pants. 

You took a step forward, pushing your arms up as you swung your hips left and right. 

“You said something about an apology earlier, right?” 

I put a spell on you. Because you're mine.

“Yes,” he said, restrained to monosyllabic answers as your hands trailed down to your legs, catching the hem of your dress and pulling it up. 

You revelled in the way his eyes widened, the way the veins in his hands popped as he grasped himself harder, the hitch in his breathing. 

You pulled the offending garment up and danced it off your body until you were stood in just panties and stilettos. 

Without flashing him even a hint of your breasts, though, you turned and sat yourself on his lap. 

“W-We could've just talked here, right? You don't have to do this if you don't want to.”

“I know,” you said, grabbing his hands and covering your chest with them. 

“But you were so earnest earlier, I felt a bit bad too. Let's call this even.”

You didn't get an answer from him, but his hands did start touching you, and you couldn't help but feel as though you'd won anyway. 

You better stop the things that you do.

Taking your nipples between his fingers, he squeezed, and your ass pushed down into his cock, back arching as you began rubbing against his legs. You repositioned, letting your knees fall either some of his leg, leaning forward to balance yourself against his knee as you rocked your core into his leg. 

“So, what's your name, officer.”

“Spencer-” he sighed, voice warm in your ear as he leaned closer, trying to hook his head over your shoulder to watch the rest of your body writhe. 

“Doctor Spencer Reid.”

“Oh, how fancy, a Doctor. I've never had a doctor before,” you said, straightening and grabbing his hands again. 

“And what a naughty little nurse I've been,” you giggled. 

I tell you, I ain't lyin’.

“I'm not that kind of doctor,” he said, as your hands guided his to your cunt, giving him permission to enter your underwear. 

“And as we've established, I'm not that kind of nurse. But I don't mind.”

He muttered to himself for a second before beginning to pay sweet attention to your clit. As bashful, and shy, and overall clumsy he had seemed outside, he absolutely had the theory of pleasure down to a T. 

The pads of his fingers were rough against your clit, pushing your pleasure buttons roughly as you soaked his pants. 

“That's it, Doctor, that's where the ache was.”

He caught on quickly and kept up his ministrations as you moaned in his lap. 

“Ah, fuck. M-Maybe some medicine would help.me Doctor. A nice big injection.” 

You stood and almost threw a tantrum at the loss of contact, but you returned yourself to his lap quickly. 

He unbuttoned his pants as he stood, and his cock was released and waiting for you when you returned again. 

Before you could get to it, though, his face buried itself in your chest. 

You moaned at the contact, his tongue swirling around your already painfully sensitive nipples. You humped his leg wantonly, giving up the act and becoming the whore he likely thought you were. It was all too much for you, his hot stare, his surprisingly deft fingers. And then he gently bit your nipple, and your cunt clenched around nothing as you twitched and you came. 

“Fuck, cock. Now!” You demanded, as the after waves of your orgasm still rolled through you. You grabbed a condom from the complementary basket nearby and rolled it onto his tip expertly before sinking yourself down on him. 

“D-D you feel better now?” He asked, hands gripping the fat of your thighs as tightly as he'd gripped his pants earlier. 

“Yes, Doctor Reid!” you said, your bounces sloppy as you stretched yourself around his dick. 

He wasn't overly long or ridiculously thick. It was like you'd stumbled into the Goldilock fairy tale, because you'd found the cock that fit you just right. 

Your brain short-circuited after your all too fast orgasm, and you moaned pathetically, almost grumpily as you failed to keep up the stamina. 

You know better, Daddy. I can't stand it ‘cause you put me down.

As if noticing your distress, Spencer stood slightly, using a nearby table to balance out your additional weight, and finally lowered you onto it. You'd taken no notice of it in the past, but you now thanked the heaven that the table was sturdy and roughly cock height, as he began thrusting into you with just the right speed. 

The clock struck six as he licked his fingers again and played with your clit once again, and with a sharp jerk of your hips, your cunt tightened around him and began milking his cock. 

He came with a groan, though admittedly one quieter than your own. 

I put a spell on you.

With a wet pop, his cock exited you, and he quickly went to work discarding the used condom. You tried to sit up quickly, and were surprised you could manage even that much, as you shimmied back into your wet dress. 

“Apology accepted,” you said, as he turned back to you, put together once again. 

You turned to leave, but he caught your waist and spun you back around to him. His lips were on yours in a second. 

His tongue was hot and thick as it opened your mouth, exploring every inch as he forced you to submit once more. When you pulled back, his hand lightly grazed up the side of your face, tucking a strand of hair behind your ear. 

“Yeah. You too. Your apology.”

You couldn't help but let out a giggle as he walked you back toward the door, almost pinning you there for a round two. 

“You really thought I was a nurse?”

“It was dark.”

You gave him another peck on the cheek and pulled away, gaining the respectable distance from your customer aa you re-emerged from the private room. 

“I get off at 7,” you whispered yo him finally, before making your way back to the bar. 

Your doctor sat himself down and waited for the clock to strike 7. 

[quin-ns]

Eventually (Coriolanus Snow x Reader)

Word count: 6.7k

Summary: Coriolanus could appreciate irony, but the one person he desires more than anything wanting nothing to do with him pushes him to new territory

Tags: (18+), cw: noncon, dark!coriolanus, deeply implied stalker!coriolanus, unreliable narrator coriolanus (boy is delusional tbh, no one is doing more mental gymnastics than him), pre-mentor era, obsession, unprotected sex, choking (only for like a second), virginity status undisclosed but as I was writing I began to imagine this being the first time for both of them—it’s not even implied tho, so do with that what you will

A/N: a character as evil as him I couldn’t conceive writing fluff for. he’s bad and guess what I’m not gonna fix him, but I also can’t make him not-hot so… hehe. please read the tags and proceed with caution <3

Misc masterlist + main masterlist

You wanted nothing to do with him, and that made him crazy.

No, if anything, you were the crazy one. Coriolanus hadn’t done anything but try to be your friend, but you snubbed him without reason.

Coriolanus did a good job at keeping the financial situation of his family a secret. No one knew, and he doubted you were an exception. Yet, it was as if you looked down upon him.

Although, you’d grown fond of Sejanus, so even if you did know, status wasn’t a concern of yours. It was something he admired, yet questioned all at once. There had to be a reason for your dismissal. A reason you couldn’t bring yourself to even offer a smile back. It’s not like he was asking a lot.

It’s not like he wasn’t trying, either. He’d gotten used to trying to make people like him, to see him as better than he was, but it was never this hard. It would’ve been so much simpler if you just told him to his face what your problem was, but whenever he came around, mostly when you were talking to Sejanus—they were friends, it was the perfect excuse—you just went quiet. You’d greet him, make no effort to continue the conversation, then excuse yourself.

All Coriolanus wanted to know was why.

“You’re watching her again,” Clemensia whispered to him, eyes flicking between him and the paper in front of her.

They were class partners, but Coriolanus was beginning to think he spent too much time with her.

“Who?”

Clemensia let out a small chuckle, mocking him. The professor at the front of the class looked up, and Coriolanus quickly looked down at his paper, taking his eyes off of you.

“You’re too obvious,” she muttered, a smirk in her voice. “Maybe that’s why she doesn’t like you. Because you stare at her too much.”

She didn’t get a response—it didn’t deserve one. Coriolanus questioned why he ever told her anything. She made him sound like some sort of stalker. Which, for the record, he was not.

His eyes managing to find you frequently wasn’t a crime, and neither was crossing your path. Maybe it wasn’t a coincidence most of the time, but it’s not as if he was harming you by watching you. He doubted you noticed anyway.

Seeing you nearly everyday had been enough to keep him sated, but then Sejanus started talking about you. Through no fault of his own, Coriolanus learned things about you. What he came to know made him curious to discover more. Even if you did not seem keen to let him.

Being content with what he had didn’t keep its appeal for long. Not when you were right there, your presence taunting him. Making him want what you would not let him have.

“You just need to talk to her, Coryo,” Tigris told him one evening, when he revealed everything to her. “Not in class and not with Sejanus. Just you. Let her know the real you and I promise she’ll like what she sees.”

Coriolanus took his cousin’s advice to heart. She was much more empathetic than him, she had to be onto something, right?

Everything changed when Coriolanus sat across from you at a study table in the library.

As beautiful as you were from a distance, being up close was something else entirely. He could admire you for hours and never get tired.

You looked up at him, he smiled and said hello just like Tigris advised. The smile you returned seemed forced, and you ignored that he had spoken.

It upset him, but not as much as when you got up and walked out. It was the last straw. Coriolanus was following you into the hall before he could think better of it.

He caught up to you, dropping his hand to your shoulder to make you turn around and face him. When you did, you looked surprised. That wasn’t what made Coriolanus hesitate, but the realization that he had never been this close to you before. Not even sitting across from you compared to touching you.

His heart skipped a beat.

“What do you want?” you questioned, a level of annoyance he thought to be unearned in your voice.

His heart started again.

“Have I done something to you?” Coriolanus confronted you, feeling a familiar sense of agitation creep over him. He had to know. “To make you feel such distaste for me?”

“I don’t dislike you, Coriolanus,” you replied, calmly after recovering from your initial shock. “I’m just… indifferent to you.”

The answer confused him more than it did enrage him. He smothered the latter feeling as he observed you.

“You’re… indifferent,” he stated, not asking. His feet shifted beneath him. It hurt, for some reason. “Why?”

Your eyes narrowed ever so slightly, studying him. It was the same way you’d look at your books when you were struggling with a subject, lingering behind in class or the library until a triumphant smile crossed your face.

Only, that smile never came. Your expression just faded back to normal.

“You shouldn’t put so much weight on what other people think of you,” you advised, stepping closer to him. His breath caught in his chest. You smelled sweet, like flowers. “Especially not someone you don’t even know.”

It was then, he realized, you hadn’t moved closer to him with purpose. You’d been on your way moving past him. His eyes focused on your back as you walked away, figuring out what to say.

“I’d like to know you,” he announced earnestly, verbally trying to pull you back. “If you’d only give me a chance.”

You slowed to a stop, looking over your shoulder. Coriolanus felt as if he was on display as your eyes raked over him, determining for yourself his sincerity.

“You’re friends with Sejanus, aren’t you?” you wondered. It wasn’t what he expected, but Coriolanus nodded. You sighed, which irked him to think it was pity. “If you’d like to join us for lunch I wouldn’t be against that.”

“I’ll see you then,” he said, but you were already turning away. He kept to himself that he had already tried in the past.

His friend was nice. Too nice for his own good, truthfully. It wasn’t as if Sejanus completely abandoned him the moment he befriended you. It was more like he split his time, attending to both friendships. The only thing Coriolanus held against him was that he never tried to reintroduce the two of you. Maybe even put in a good word.

At lunch Coriolanus found you and Sejanus quickly, he knew where you liked to sit.

“Hey, Coryo,” Sejanus greeted, smiling. “About time you decided to join us.”

Coriolanus put on a smile as he sat down. “Well, I would’ve sooner, but I wasn’t sure I was welcome before.”

The comment made you smirk, in on the joke as Coriolanus looked at you.

“Who’s to say you are now?” you sarcastically replied, as if you hadn’t been the one to invite him.

Well, “invite” was being generous, but he still seized the opportunity nonetheless.

“Ignore her, she can’t help herself,” Sejanus said with a chuckle, used to your humor.

This time, when he tried to talk to you, you engaged. In between discussions of classes and assignments, Coriolanus had to dodge your quick wit.

He liked the challenge, and the next day, he went back for more. Even walked right past Clemanisa and Arachne, who tried to invite him to their table with Festus. You were waiting for him.

He noticed you and Sejanus already talking.

When he sat across from you, you raised your brows. “Seeking refuge?”

Before he could ask what you meant, you nodded your head towards the girls he’d left behind.

You knew about his friends?

“You could call it that,” he replied, a smile starting to appear.

You nodded and hummed.

“Well, what are your qualifications?”

“Excuse me?”

“You joke too much, Y/N,” Sejanus lightly scolded you, interrupting whatever path you were going down, which made you laugh. “He’s going to think you don’t like him.”

“He knows I don’t mean anything by it,” you assured, looking at Coriolanus. “I’m just trying to figure him out.”

Your tone was filled with confidence, but your face… Coriolanus wasn’t sure how to place your underlying expression. You had a shield up, he knew that much, but what did that have to do with him? Were you trying to figure out if you could let it down for him? Or something else?

“Of course,” Coriolanus answered, not taking his eyes off of you. “I’m an open book.”

“Are you, now?” You folded your arms on the table. “Your friends love to gossip, and I don’t think I’ve heard that about you.”

“It’s not my fault if they don’t know how to read,” Coriolanus quipped, proud of himself for being so quick.

None of his friends had wronged him, but the joke at their expense was worth it for what followed after.

He made you laugh. Not just smile, but truly laugh. It was exactly what he wanted, and it actually worked. Awe didn't begin to describe how it felt.

Joining your table for lunch became the best part of his day. Sometimes he forgot Sejanus was even there, far too eager to see you. He saw you all the time, of course. Watching you was a habit he had yet to break, but this was different. You were aware of his presence, and he was able to speak to you. It didn’t matter that you still seemed weary, it was enough.

Even if you didn’t like him, you still had conversations with him, so that was something.

Sometimes, if you were deep in a discussion, debating ethics—your favorite topic—it would continue beyond just the table. He’d walk you to class, wanting to hear your voice just a second longer.

“I want to meet this girl,” His grandmother declared one night, after Coriolanus drifted to the topic of you over dinner. He’d been doing it more recently.

Tigris gave him a look, a light frown. There was no way to do that without you coming to his home, and he wasn’t going to let that happen.

“Let Coryo decide that, Grandma‘am,” Tigris insisted, patting the older woman’s shoulder.

“Well, he has feelings for Y/N,” she argued, looking at Coriolanus. He used your name enough that she remembered it. “And she likes him too—doesn’t she?”

Coriolanus gave a tight smile. “Yes, she does.”

Keeping up appearances.

“Well, that settles it, then,” Grandma‘am decided.

“I think it’s time you get to bed,” Tigris intervened, getting their grandmother up from her chair.

Later, when they were alone, Tigris asked him, “Does she even know how you feel about her?” She knew him too well. He took too long to answer. “You should tell her. From what you’ve told us, you two should be together. But it won’t happen unless you make it known how you feel.”

Coriolanus’s dreams were filled with you, as they usually were, but something was different the morning he woke up after the conversation with Tigris.

All he had to do was prove himself to you, and he knew that now.

Coriolanus found you in the library a lot, often pretending to stumble upon you. This time, he didn’t put on a facade.

“I thought I’d find you here,” he acknowledged, sitting down beside you. Often he’d sit across, but he was testing the waters. Seeing if you were put off by the proximity. “Studying for Featherly’s class?”

“I’m terrified for his test,” you confided, rubbing your temples as you hunched down at your book. “I feel like my mind has no room for anything else. I’ve memorized nothing.”

With a sigh, you sat up and pushed the book away.

“I can help you,” Coriolanus insisted, reaching for the book. He read over the page you were on, knowing he’d already perfected the subject. “You should’ve asked for me sooner.”

Maybe it was a little spiteful, but he hadn’t purposely meant it to come out that way. You still noticed it, taking your book back.

“I’m not asking for your help now, Coriolanus,” you muttered, looking at him out of the corner of your eye.

You were the last of his friends to still call him that. Most everyone else called him ‘Coryo’. Not you. But you were stubborn in many ways. This too, apparently.

“I didn’t mean anything against you,” he said lightly, even chuckling a little. It was forced, but he wanted to show he wasn’t being that serious.

Using your own words on you did not have the desired effect.

“Mmmhmmm,” you hummed.

Coriolanus tilted his head down, trying to get you to meet his gaze. You gave in, facing him, looking unamused.

He wanted to wipe that look away, but didn’t know how. If he could just make you like him—

Suddenly, your watch began to beep.

“Test time,” you grumbled, taking back your book and getting up.

Coriolanus followed you down the hall and into class. The tests were already on the desks, waiting. You two were early—he noticed that because of the clock on the wall.

He walked you to your seat and wished you good luck. To his surprise, you offered the same in return. Then, he went to his own. Other students filed in quickly after, professor Featherly being the last to enter the room.

The professor declared, “Begin,” then sat at his desk in the middle of the room and began to read.

The test wasn’t easy, but Coriolanus knew what he was doing. One look around the classroom and he saw that wasn’t the case for most other students. He felt a sense of pride, until his gaze landed on you. You were one row down and four seats to the left. He’d counted before. You were fiddling with your pencil, struggling to come up with what to write down.

While he could’ve been the first to finish, Coriolanus let other students turn their tests in before him. An hour passed by, but it moved quickly.

There were only a few students left when you finally got up. You radiated an anxious energy, much like the others, but Coriolanus didn’t care about the others.

Clemensia stuck her hand up in the air, waiting for the professor to notice her, distracting Coriolanus briefly. When the professor looked up and noticed her, Clemansia got her wish.

Coriolanus considered himself lucky, convincing himself with his own mantra frequently. As he watched you leave your test on Featherly’s desk and rush from the room, he realized how he could help you.

He quickly marked down the rest of his answers, having stalled so he could leave when you did. The professor was making his way away from the desk, while Coriolanus got up and went in the opposite direction.

With a swift, hard kick to the leg, the professor's desk wobbled and papers spilled off on the other side. It looked like an accident.

Featherly looked over his shoulder at the noise.

“Sorry,” Coriolanus apologized, kneeling down behind the desk to collect the papers.

Without anyone watching, he found your test. He had no time to change the written questions, but he made quick work of erasing and re-doing the multiple choice, with his own test and knowledge as reference.

He had to give you credit for getting a decent amount correct, but not enough for a passing grade.

When Coriolanus fixed that, he stacked together the papers and placed them back on the desk and exited.

Everyone was waiting in the hall. Against tradition, the professor graded tests directly after and would call students in to give the results. It was time consuming, and kept everyone on campus after hours, which was against the rules, but perhaps he’d gotten some kind of exception.

You were leaning against the wall opposite of the classroom, talking to some girl from the class—Coriolanus didn’t bother to learn her name. He wanted to go to you, but Sejanus got to him first instead.

“How do you think you did?”

Coriolanus shrugged, looking down at his friend. “Fine, I think.” That was the humble answer, right? “How about you?”

“Not perfect, but I passed.”

Clemensia trotted out then, a confident look on her face.

“What was so important you had to ask during the test?” Coriolanus couldn’t help but wonder. She’d unknowingly helped him, after all.

“Just clarity on a question, wanted to make sure I got it right,” she answered with ease.

“And did you?”

She gave Sejanus a look.

“Yes, of course.”

The last person exited the class, and professor Featherly closed the door. And so the grading began.

One by one, the professor called people in. There was no method to the order, it seemed likely he shuffled the papers or chose which one to grade next at random.

Time passed, Coriolanus didn’t know how much exactly, but it was beginning to get dark outside. Tigris would be worried until he got home, but she’d understand. His studies came first.

Eventually, Coriolanus realized it was dwindling down to be just you and him left. He was lucky today.

The third to last student was in the classroom, leaving you across the hall from one another.

You pressed your lips together before speaking.

“Do you think you did alright?”

The corner of Coriolanus’s lip twitched up at the sound of your voice.

“Yes, I think so,” he answered humbly. “What about you?”

You let out a self deprecating laugh. “When I said I was terrified, I wasn’t being dramatic.” You sighed, accepting your fate. “I’ll have to do perfect on the next one, I guess.”

“I can help you with that,” Coriolanus offered.

The smile he gave you spawned a mirror reaction. He knew he was charming, he had to be, and this time you actually seemed receptive to it.

“Maybe you can.”

The sound of a door opening made Coriolanus turn. Arachne was leaving, a smug look on her face as she thanked the professor.

Then the door closed, and the professor graded another test. There were only two left.

“I wish he wouldn’t do it like this,” you filled the silence. “The others don’t make us wait like this.”

“It builds suspense, I suppose,” Coriolanus mused. “Keeps us on our toes.”

“That’s not something I need right now.”

“At least you have good company,” he noted flirtatiously. He couldn’t help but grin at his own words, especially when you bite your lip to keep yourself from smiling.

“Could be worse, I supposed,” you retorted.

More time passed. The door opened again.

“Coriolanus Snow,” the professor addressed him next. “Your turn.”

As expected, Coriolanus did close to perfect. One answer off. Best in the class.

Back in the hallway, when he was done, Coriolanus waited with you. He didn’t announce he was staying, he just returned to his spot against the wall.

“Don’t keep a girl waiting. How did you do?” you asked, departing from the wall.

Coriolanus wondered where you were going, but then, you stood next to him, leaning back against the wall. There was still an arms length between the two of you, but it was something. You’d gone to him for once.

“You’ll think I’m full of myself if I tell you,” he teased lightly, which made you roll your eyes.

“Maybe I already think that, so just tell me,” you insisted.

The comment made him falter.

“Best in the class,” he divulged.

You almost looked impressed. “Good for you.”

The door opened.

“Y/N L/N, you’re up.”

“Wish me luck,” you said under your breath before following Featherly in.

“Good luck.”

Coriolanus waited for you, just like before. He tapped his foot. The professor didn’t actually go over the answers, he just told you the grade. You’d have no way of knowing what he did for you, but he’d be there to share in your excitement when you discovered how well you’d done.

Or, how well he’d done for you.

Not long later, you and the professor exited the class together.

“Wasn’t expecting you to still be here,” Featherly addressed Coriolanus. “You should get going. I’ll see you in class tomorrow.”

Then, he left you and Coriolanus alone in the hall, presumably leaving the building.

“So,” Coriolanus began with a smile. “How did you do?”

“He asked if I’d been studying with you. Apparently we had all the same answers,” you told him, crossing your arms. “Except when I asked him to show me my exam—which I did great on, apparently—I saw answers circled that weren’t mine.”

Coriolanus hadn’t expected you to find out so quickly, but a part of him was relieved you did. It meant he got to take credit, and he could show you that he really did want the best for you.

Or, he could always lie.

“You weren scared of failing,” he finally admitted. He offered a sympathetic smile. “So I helped.”

“No, you cheated!” you accused, causing his eyes to go wide. “You’ve implicated us both. If anyone finds out…”

“Don’t be so loud,” he hissed out in a whisper, stepping closer to you. The professor could still be in the building. He doubted anyone else would be. “I just wanted to help you, okay? You needed it, so I—“

“You helped, I get it. But I didn’t ask you to do that for me, Coriolanus. I have never asked you to do anything for me,” you sneered, somewhere between offended and betrayed.

He saw the way you scanned his face—his eyes. The pleading was beginning to seep through.

A wave of realization washed over you before he even opened his mouth.

“You didn’t have to ask me to,” Coriolanus said meaningfully, stepping closer to you. “I wanted to. I wanted to help you.”

You back hit the wall. The hallway was so empty it seemed as if the subtle sound still echoed.

“I’d do anything for you, don’t you get that?”

The sound of a large door closing carried from a distance.

Coriolanus reached for your face, wishing he could take away the concern that riddled your expression. Instead, he brushed a stray piece of hair from your face.

You swallowed. Why did you look so nervous around him? You were friends now, weren’t you? You never looked scared around anyone else. Why him? Why now? His own questions frustrated him.

“We’re not supposed to be on campus after hours,” you said calmly. It was the same tone you used when you first described your indifference to him. Coriolanus thought about that moment a lot. “Featherly already left. We should leave before we get caught.”

The corners of his lips twitched down.

“We’re still talking, though, aren’t we?”

You let out a shallow breath. You had no reason to look as scared as you did.

“I think we’re done.”

Coriolanus thought back to his cousin’s advice. He could’ve followed it better if she’d written it down, perchance.

“You’re so beautiful, you know that?” Coriolanus pondered, smiling to himself at the sight of you. “You caught my eye from the beginning and I—I couldn’t figure out why you wanted nothing to do with me.” You watched him carefully. He wondered if you could sense the dejectedness brewing. “Did you see something in me? Is that it?”

“I don’t know,” you admitted under your breath. “People like you, and you’ve been making an effort to be my friend, so I don’t know what told me to stay away from you, but something did. I’ve tried to ignore it, but I still…” you swallowed. “I don’t know.”

The confession should’ve been a relief. That’s what he imagined it would be. That you would admit the truth, and he could fix whatever misconceptions you had.

Coriolanus did not know what to do with “I don’t know”.

Staring down at you, Coriolanus noticed your back was against the wall. Literally. He hadn’t meant to put you there, but he had.

It got you to listen, didn’t it? He’d gotten an answer?

“Can we start over?” Coriolanus suggested, even throwing in a smile that would charm most anyone. It worked on you before. “We can forget all this mess.”

You blinked. You didn’t believe him.

For most people, he wouldn’t simply let numerous slights go, but for you, if it would fix whatever this was, if it meant the two of you could have a real chance, then he’d overcome his instincts—old and new.

“I’m afraid my memory is too good for that,” you finally said, looking up at him with defiance.

Defying what, was the question. It wasn’t as if you were enemies.

The thought made his jaw clench. He let out a laugh that was sharp. It lacked any sense of humor.

“Why can’t you just accept my apology?”

Your brows arched up, questioning him.

“That was supposed to be an apology?”

“Yes,” he confirmed. “But it’s not as if I owe you one.”

“I never said you did. I never said anything. You took it upon yourself to insert yourself into my life and now you are not happy with your place in it. You’ve overstepped, and you need to let me leave.”

Coriolanus frowned.

“You act like I’m keeping you here by force.”

You look up at him, silently telling him you believed he was.

That frustrated him further.

In an act that jarred even him, Coriolanus pressed his palms against your shoulders and pushed you back against the wall when you tried to move away.

“This is force,” he declared sternly, leaning down, making you maintain his gaze.

Everyone liked control, but he hadn’t used it in such a physical way before. It thrilled him in an odd way.

“Get your hands off me.”

“Why should I? You already think so poorly of me, why not let you be right?”

You moved again then, trying to catch him off guard and squirm away. But Coriolanus was quick to shove you back against the wall.

“We can still start over. If you would give me a chance, I think we can be good together.”

He let one hand rise to rest on your cheek. Your skin was so smooth. He inhaled deeply, resolve slipping further as his eyes fell to your lips.

If Coriolanus could just prove it to you, he was sure you’d understand what he meant.

He leaned in cautiously, gauging your reaction. You didn’t flinch away. You tilted your chin up, even. That familiar skip of his heart returned.

Coriolanus’s lips only just brushed against yours before you reacted. He had a second of relief before you brought your knee up, jabbing him in the lower stomach, although he doubted that was where you were aiming. It was still enough of a shock to throw him off his game. He stumbled back, and in a flash, you were gone. You were running down the hall—trying to get away from him, like usual.

Only this time, he didn’t feel like letting you go.

Something he had slowly come to learn was when he wanted something, it wasn’t just going to be handed to him. Vying for the Plinth Prize highlighted that, alongside his childhood.

He caught you easily, hand snapping out like a snake to grip your arm and yank you back to him. You collided with his chest. It was like you weren’t even trying. Not really. Just toying with him.

“Am I a game to you?” Coriolanus hissed into your ear, wrapping you in his arms. “Something for you to play?”

“I haven’t done anything to you! I hardly even know you!” you defended, but it just made him hold you tighter.

“I know you,” he implored, fighting against your squirming. He lost balance and when you fell to the ground, you took him with you. Coriolanus got you onto your back, sitting on your thighs, gripping your wrists in his hands to keep you from swinging at him. You let out panicked breaths, staring up at him. “I know more than you think.”

Something about the position made the front of his pants begin to feel constricting.

“Coriolanus, you’re frightening me,” you enunciated, as if trying to reason with him.

“I’m not being unreasonable,” Coriolanus grit out, working to maintain his composure.

“What?” you questioned, brows pinching together, a deep frown on your face. Confused and scared. Coriolanus used to feel that way. “Just let me go.”

“And then what? You go back to ignoring me? No I can’t… I can’t go back to that. If you just give me a chance I can show you.”

Coriolanus didn’t know what happened next.

Tigris told him it was like he left his own head, sometimes. She said he’d get so caught up, he wouldn’t notice things. At the time he had laughed. If anyone stayed aware, it was him.

It wasn’t that he left his head, but got lost in it. Lost in his own inner monologue to realize what he was doing.

In this case, what he’d done.

Far too busy thinking of ways to convey everything he wanted to say to you, how to make you understand, visualizing your reaction, he’d already acted.

Maybe there were two people living in his mind. One with a conscience, one without. Or perhaps that was just something he used to justify his less than decent actions. An excuse. He’d never let himself know the truth. Not really. Not yet.

What he did know was what he could see. You, beneath him, clothes torn from your body. The only thing left was a shirt. Too much effort, apparently. Your wrists were snatched together in one of his hands.

The power stirred something within him.

One might say he was out of excuses when he reached for the zipper of his pants, but no one else was here, were they?

Your mouth was moving. Speaking. Maybe even yelling. Looking at him, looking around the room. He couldn’t hear a sound but his own heart thumping in his ears paired with his own eager breaths. Was that normal?

He moved, wedging himself between your legs, nudging them apart to make room for himself.

“It’s just us,” Coriolanus spoke, loud enough to hear himself. You flinched. “No one’s here.”

He gripped himself, stroking his cock, lining himself up with your entrance. His patience was running incredibly thin.

Tears pricked in your eyes. You stopped struggling at his words, accepting it for what it was. Good.

“Why are you doing this?”

He heard your voice clearly, that time, despite the strain in your tone.

Coriolanus observed you carefully, squeezing your wrists together in one hand and lovingly caressing your hip with the other.

He finally understood the answer you’d given before. He found it fitting now.

“I don’t know.”

To him, it was the truth.

The moment Coriolanus pressed himself inside of you, it was as if the rest of the world disappeared. After so long of wanting you in every way, shape, or form, this was long overdue.

“You’re perfect for me,” he breathed out. Coriolanus gave a shove of his hips, his gaze falling to your mouth as an unwilling yelp slipped out. “I knew you would be.”

You were tight, too tight, even. Unwelcoming. Yet still, you felt like home.

His hand—the one that was on your hip—drifted between your legs. He found your clit, running his thumb in small circles, trying to ease the pressure you must’ve been feeling.

Coriolanus did not want to hurt you.

He looked into unfocused eyes. Where were you? Were you trying to be somewhere else?

He let your hands go. You didn’t move to slap him or shove him or anything. You were learning.

He leaned over you more, reaching for you face with his now free hand, and ran his thumb over your cheek, encouraging your gaze to actually meet his. He smiled softly when you did. You got more beautiful every second he looked at you. It was even better when he could see you were present.

Coriolanus found himself unable to resist it, so he gave into the urge to press his lips to yours. A real kiss, this time.

Your lips were softer than he’d imagined. You made a noise when his tongue tasted your mouth. His kiss was hungry—aggressive, even. But he’d waited so long he didn’t know how to contain himself.

Your body reacted to his touch. Your bent knees inched up his hips to accommodate him, and your walls were becoming slick, accepting the invasion.

A deep moan escaped him, cock throbbing inside you at the feel. The sound was muffled by his lips pressed to yours, but he still felt vulnerable, giving himself to you in this way.

Coriolanus pulled back from the kiss, only to rest his forehead against yours and breathe out a small puff of air from his lips.

“I’ve never wanted anything as much as I want you. Not even the Plinth Prize,” he confessed in a whisper.

“What’s the difference?” You finally spoke, voice wavering. “You have to earn the prize?” The accusing tone felt like a slap.

“You don’t know what you’re saying,” Coriolanus muttered, eyes boring into yours. “You’ll see.”

He gave you one more searing kiss before moving his hips.

A gasp that morphed into a moan clawed its way up your throat. The sound was like music to his ears. He wanted to hear it again.

He began to move more consistently, finding a pace that suited him. Rough enough to keep you present, but not so harsh as to hurt you. He wanted you to enjoy yourself, even if you were trying to avoid it.

Still figuring you out, Coriolanus found your sweet spot with a hard thrust, causing you to wince. Instinctively, you tried to push him away, just like you had before, not wanting to surrender.

You stilled when you felt his hand. He hardly realized how he’d reacted until he felt your throat bob beneath his palm.

Coriolanus retracted his hand, like your skin and shot a volt through him. His movements slowed to a stop.

“I’m sorry,” he apologized earnestly, brushing the hand through your hair gently. “I shouldn’t have done that.”

Your chest heaved as you breathed shaky breaths through your nose. Your lips pressed together in a line.

You weren’t going to dignify him with a response. In a way, he understood.

Coriolanus locked his arms under your body and in a surge of strength, pulled you from the ground and into his lap. He hugged you against him, nuzzling his face into your neck.

“Forgive me,” he requested softly.

You shifted in his lap, adjusting yourself to find comfort in the new position. You did not speak.

He slammed his hips up, forcing a gasp from your lips. That was something, wasn’t it?

You pulled back, and he did it again. And again. And again.

You fell against him, jarred by the change in his movements as he thrust into you. He liked it, feeling you in his lap, your chest against his, leaving you no choice but to hold onto him.

His lips latched onto the skin of your neck as he moved, barring his teeth and nipping the skin. You reacted as if he were venomous, straining away from him, but he’d left his mark.

You could pretend all you wanted that you didn’t like him, but Coriolanus could feel your body reacting to his. He could feel the way your walls squeezed around him, drawing him in, and how your body quivered as he pushed you closer to your edge.

“Just let go,” Coriolanus whispered, holding you tighter. He cradled the back of your head against him as he moved inside of you. Soothing and rough at the same time. “It’s okay, I know you want to.”

“Shut up,” you hissed into his neck, hands finding his chest.

Were you really going to try and get away from him? It was a bit late for that.

Coriolanus moved his hand between your bodies, finding your clit with the pad of his thumb, speeding along the process.

“What was that?” he taunted, feeling your legs start to shake.

A moan tore from your throat as you came around him, body slumping against his as he shoved himself deeper inside you. He wanted to feel your body tensed around him.

“That’s it,” he drawled, pressing his face to the side of your head. He inhaled, letting your scent flood him. Every sense was overwhelmed by you and if anything, it made him hunger for even more.

You became more pliable in your daze, going easily when Coriolanus laid you back down on the cold ground. He planted one hand on the ground near your head, where he held most of his weight, while the other rested on the base of your neck. Not squeezing, just resting. Reminding you of before.

Now that he’d taken care of you, made you realize the pleasure he could inflict upon you, it was his turn. Coriolanus was relentless with the thrust of his cock inside you, stretching you around him, groaning with nearly every movement. You felt so good, he never wanted to leave the warmth of your body.

You shifted beneath him, squirming as the intense feeling. Coriolanus was tempted to drag it out, to watch your face as the pleasure became too much for you to handle.

If it wasn’t for the desire to fill you, to claim you, he would’ve. There would be more times after this, he’d ensure it. He didn’t own a lot, but he treasured the things that he did.

“I can’t let you go, not now.” He meant to keep it inside his head, but the words spilled out. “You’re the only thing I want.”

At that moment, it was true.

Coriolanus gave one final shove of his hips before spilling inside of you. It crashed over him in an unexpected wave. His whole body shivered with pleasure at the feel of your body milking him. You wanted him. Your denial would eventually fade. He was sure of it.

Coriolanus let out a heavy sigh of your name as he watched your face. You’d turned your head, wincing as he filled you to the brim.

“Hey,” Coriolanus said when he finished, voice low. He ran a delicate hand over your face, persuading you to open your eyes. “We’re okay.”

As much as he didn’t want to, Coriolanus withdrew from you. You’d given up fighting against him, so he took the opportunity to help you redress. You were so pliant, it was like dressing a doll.

You rested your arms on your knees when he made you sit up. He wasn’t keeping you from moving from the floor, you chose not to.

Coriolanus watched you cautiously, searching for the same fire in you before, trying to figure out if he’d somehow snuffed it out.

There was a nagging in his gut. It was only for a brief second, but his confidence wavered.

“Can you talk to me?” he pressed, laying a hand on your shoulder and he knelt across from you, pants readjusted.

It was as if nothing happened, but you both knew that was untrue.

“Why should I?” You wrinkled your nose as you focused on the ground.

“Because, I care about you,” Coriolanus replied without thought, gaze softening. “I want to make sure you’re okay.”

“I don’t think you care for me,” you said in a tone so hushed, Coriolanus wasn’t sure if you even meant for him to hear. Then, you met his eyes. The fire had only been dulled, not put out. “I think you’re a liar, Coriolanus Snow.”

His hands fell to clasp yours. He brought one to his lips, pressing a small kiss to the back of your palm. You eyed him as if he were some sort of predator, but he managed a smile nonetheless.

“Let me prove it to you, and you’ll come to learn you’ve been wrong about me all along.”

[writersblockedx]

A Rekindled Kind of Love

Pairing - Spencer Reid x Fem!Reader Summary - Spencer and Y/n hadn't talked since the Summer before college and then he sees her name as the only survivor in their latest serial killer case. Warning - violence, drinking Words - 3.6K

A/n - It's be a while! I've had a surge of inspiration lately since becoming a little obsessed with character ai lol and thought to write this one into a little one-shot.

masterlist

Spencer was lying if he ever called any day at the BAU normal. Between serial killers, sadists, and everything else in between, the boy had a blurred definition of normal. So, he expected anything - or so he thought. When he entered the meeting room that morning, he hadn't expected the name of Y/N Y/L/N to pop up.

"We've got three victims and, weirdly, one survivor." Garcia started to explain, clicking through the victim's dead bodies, the woman squirming at just a glance of the photos. "Whoever this sicko is, he's going after journalists. His latest victim, Y/n Y/l/n, was actually able to get away before he had a chance to kill her."

Spencer stopped. His gaze snapped up as Garcia clicked once more and he caught sight of the girl he once knew. Only now was she older, and her expression was stern. The unsub had left her features tainted, early bruises and several cuts littering over her. "She's pretty distraught says doctors, but she's alive and well."

He couldn't stop staring at her, memories of high school, of that last summer, of their blissfully ignorant friendship fueling his feelings. This was not normal. None of what he felt was normal - not for him away. "He stabs them?" Emily observed, all of the team had yet to clock onto the haze Spencer had suddenly found himself in.

Garcia hummed, "Yep, as many times as it takes before they...you know...die."

"He's aggressive, he's got no remorse for these victims," JJ spoke, glancing between her file at the screen in front of her.

"Not only are they all journalists, but they're female journalists too." Rossi added. "There's got to be some reason for that too."

Hotch nodded, "Either way, we should take Y/n into our care. She's the first to get away, I doubt he's happy about that-"

The shaggy-haired boy couldn't seem to take it. The way Y/n had gotten herself mixed in like she was any other victim, like she wasn't once the most important person in Spencer's life. "Excuse me," The boy stood abruptly, not giving any reasoning to the team before he practically ran out, gasping for breath.

The team were left with nothing. Their expressions moulding into ones of confusion, and puzzlement, "What's up with him?" Morgan was the first to question. But it was only met with the same uncertain expressions and a shrug from Hotch.

Morgan took it upon himself to stand, following Spencer out into the adjacent hallway where Spencer was panic pacing. A hand swooped through his hair as his thoughts raced. "Hey, kid, slow down," Morgan soothed. He hadn't realised the arrival of Derek until he spoke. Spencer turned, swallowing the lump which had since grown in his throat. "The hells going on with you?"

He took a breath. He evened his lungs and took a moment before confiding, "I- erm- I know her, Y/n Y/l/n, the survivor." He explained and that was enough for Morgan to understand. "Well, I suppose I knew her, we lost contact when we went to college, but we had been friends."

Morgan gazed back into the meeting room, "Reid, it's okay. She's okay, you know? She survived."

His head shook, "It doesn't matter. You heard Hotch, she's still a target." She wasn't safe and that fact was only nagging at Spencer.

"Alright, alright, how about I talk to Hotch? We'll go to the hospital, you make sure she's okay yourself?" Reid had barely agreed before Morgan walked back into that meeting room.

Of course, he wanted to make sure she was okay. But that also meant seeing her, after all these years. Spencer didn't know what had changed - if anything had. And he didn't know which option was scarier. Either way, he soon found himself at the hospital, waiting at the reception desk as a doctor went to find her.

His feet were tapping, his nerves obvious to Morgan. "Reid, calm down, she's gonna be alright," He said, but no words from Morgan or a doctor was going to help. He needed to see her.

"It's not just that I'm worried about." What if everything had changed? What if nothing had? What if-

He turned and found his eyes on her. She still had that same look. That same smile, the same soft gaze, the same ease about her that Spencer craved. But this was the very moment he feared.

She wandered up to him, quickening her pace as much as she was able to considering her state. "Spencer," She said his name like a sigh of relief. Before he realised it, her arms were wrapped around his neck, melting into his touch as if no time had passed.

"Hi," He breathed into her ear; she was safe. The hug didn't last long enough. How could it? They had 12 years of missed hugs.

"I can't believe you're here, the doctor said a profiler and then said it was Doctor Reid and I-" She trailed on, "I don't know why I was so surprised. Of course, you made it big."

Spencer shrugged, "I wouldn't call this big." The boy became sheepish, almost flushed and Derek Morgan had certainly taken notice. "I'm sorry I stopped calling and I should have-"

"Oh, Spence, save it," She chuckled lightly, "I could have picked up that phone just as well as you had. I just wish we could have met under different circumstances."

He nodded, "Yeah, well about that," Spencer turned to bring Derek into the conversation, "This is Agent Morgan, he's erm gonna help."

Morgan sent his usual cheeky smirk as he did with any pretty lady, "It's good to meet you, sweetheart. Glad to hear you're feeling better too."

Spencer hadn't expected anything less from the man. "Look, I don't know if the doctor explained it to you, but we're under the belief that this unsub may still be targeting you."

"Unsub?" She reiterated.

"The killer that went after you." Morgan answered, "Unknown subject, unsub for short."

"We erm- we have to take you in, make sure you're safe kind of thing," Spencer explained, fidgeting with his fingers as she glanced between them and the girl in front of her.

Her pupils grew worrisome, "You think I'm still in danger?"

Spencer hated that word. Even the thought of Y/n in danger made his spine shiver. "You're the first to get away, we erm- we don't think he'll be very happy about it. He could lash out, many unsubs, new unsubs especially, a victim getting away could be like a double stressor, he could be on a rampage, he could be doing nothing but think about getting to you." He realised he was rambling and his words were only worrying the girl more, "Sorry, I just, I want to make sure you're safe."

But Y/n understood, "It's alright, Spence. I'll go grab my things."

With that, a rush filled the girl as she turned her back on the two agents, wandering back into the hospital room she had come from. Spencer's eyes hadn't left from where her figure was once standing. This was personal for him - even if he hadn't seen the girl for years now. "She's not just someone from high school, is she?" Morgan realised as he observed Spencer.

He turned to him as if he had just left the trail of thoughts in his mind, "Hm?" He turned back to look at Morgan.

His response had only made Morgan smile, "Y/n, she seems more to you than that."

"It was..." The boy thought back to it, to that Summer, he didn't know how else to describe it, what they had, her. "Complicated."

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*

12 Years Prior, Las Vegas

Y/n always had something Spener didn't: Popularity. Well, in a way. Spencer was cast away from many of his peers. A social reject. While, Y/n was a social butterfly of sorts. She took to a crowd with ease. The type of girl that could make friends with anyone.

The boy had certainly hit the jackpot when he was assigned to tutor her. Over the course of several sessions, they had bonded over literature, future college plans and, surprisingly, Y/n's distaste to certain 'jocks' - as the social hierarchy liked to describe them as.

She was the only reason Spencer turned up to the end of year house party. Crowds weren't his thing, drinking neither. But she...she was worth it.

"Spencer!" The girl gleamed as he wandered into the house. 

He didn't belong at all. His shoulders were stiff, his glasses at the edge of his nose. But, despite such, Y/n still took him into a longing hug. "H- Hi." He greeted, his eyes flickering all over the place. From the demolished kitchen to the living room where drunken teens were dancing on top of couches and coffee tables.

Her brow raised, "Come on, we'll get you a drink." Her hand slipped into his, bringing the boy back to his attention: her. "You do drink right?" She checked as she guided him towards said demolished kitchen.

"Erm, not a heavy drinker but, sure I can have one."

"You sure?" She spoke ever so softly, "You know you don't have to."

"Just one." He offered her a smile.

She grasped a few bottles: vodka, rum, tequila. "Pick your poison."

Spencer had simply shrugged, a chuckle at the tip of his tongue, "I'll have whatever you're having."

"Rum it is!"

She poured the two the same drink - almost half liquor, half mixer. Spencer coughed when he swallowed, causing the girl to giggle, "Too much?"

But Spencer simply shook his head, "Just perfect," He almost joked as he leaned onto the kitchen counter next to the girl, "I almost didn't come," He admitted.

"I don't blame you," He gazed down at her answer, his expression urging her to add some context. "Ashley James puked up after two drinks, Kacy and Liam broke up, now Liam's making out with Polly. It's just...a mess." Her eyes rolled. "But then again, what was I expecting?"

Spencer smiled at her. She was good at knowing like everything. While he was filled with facts and statistics, Y/n knew everything about everyone. Within one look, she knew your secrets. Maybe that's why she was so good with people. "We can go somewhere else if you want?" He suggested.

His question brought along an idea for the girl. With her free hand, she took Spencer's and led him out into the back garden. Whoever lived here was almost rich. Well, rich enough for a pool and a pretty big outdoor area. "Come on," Y/n urged him as she pulled the boy towards the edge of the pool.

She slipped her shoes off, sitting down and letting her legs dangle into the fresh water. Spencer watched her for a moment before joining her, the two sipping on their drinks. "Better?" She asked him.

He nodded, "Much."

"At least we've got Summer now, no more being forced to see them assholes." She joked.

Spencer's brows narrowed in thought, "You mean the assholes that you were friends with until you met me?"

"Well you got me there, Spence." She shrugged, "Social survival, that's what I call it. It's not as if there won't be similar people in college. I mean, fucking sororities, semi-pro football leagues, frats?"

"I'm sure you'll fit in amazingly at Princeton." His smile seemed to falter at his own words.

She gazed at the boy who seemed captivated by the slowly swaying water below them, "We'll still call you know, text, just cause we're in different places, doesn't mean anything, Spencer." Y/n attempted to comfort him.

"That's what everyone says but, I don't know." He shook his head, ignoring a thought.

But she noticed it; she noticed everything, "But what?"

He huffed and stared over at her, his eyes pooling in admiration. "You're one of the best things to have happened to me in a long time you know," He offered her a smile, "I couldn't even imagine losing you."

The girl bit her lip. Something was on her mind and Spencer had noticed. He too noticed everything about her. But he didn't ask. Partly, because he didn't have the chance to. Her eyes flickered to his lips. Then to his eyes. And before Spencer could realise, she had leant in, her lips at his. Without even realising, she had changed everything for the boy.

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*

Spencer accompanied the woman towards a private, interview room. He would offer support and comfort but at the same time, he had a job to do. A part of that was questioning. She was the only person to know this unsub. As difficult as it would be for her, he would have to ask them questions.

"Hey," Emily spoke as he entered the room, two coffees in hand: one for Spencer and one for Y/n. "Coffee orders are here," She smiled as she placed them at the table between the two. "I'm Emily, Reid says you're an old friend."

Her eyes flickered to the man before she shook Emily's hand, "Something like that yeah."

"Well, we're here if you need anything, alright?" She said, "You're in good hands here, especially with our Doctor Reid."

With that, Emily left to join the rest of the team who were busy compiling a profile. Which left her and Spencer. This was the part he wasn't looking forward to. "I've erm, I've got to ask you some questions, it'll help us understand this unsub, help us find him." He explained. When she nodded, the boy continued, "I'm going to ask you to close your eyes, alright? And then I'm just going to go through the night you were attacked. Is that okay?"

She swallowed the lump which had grown in her throat, "Yeah," She muttered.

Y/n followed the instructions and let her eyelids close before Spencer started the exercise, "Okay, just go back to that night. You were on 9th Street, correct?"

"Yes."

"It was getting late, but it was summer, think about the air, was it still warm? What sort of things could hear, anything?"

She thought back to it. Y/n had just finished her work week, she was walking home from the Subway. "There's a group of girls on the other side of the road, they're giggling. Drunk, I assume."

"That's good, that's really good." Spencer praised, "Then when did you realise something was off?"

Her brows furrowed and she thought about it, the pit in her stomach growing, "Someone- someone was yelling. A man. I thought he was like bible bashing so I wasn't paying much attention to what he was saying."

"Think." Spencer jumped in, "Listen to him, pick any words, any phrases that stick out to you."

And she did so. Her mind ran through the memory, "Something, something about an agenda, the- the snowflake agenda? It's ruining America it's-" She cut herself off as the memory reached the worst part. "That's when he grabbed me." Her voice quickened, her breaths soon becoming uneven. "He had a knife to my neck- he pulled me to an ally. I- Spencer."

Her hand reached out over the table instinctively, "It's okay," He too had become panicked just seeing her's. "I'm here, it's over, you can open your eyes."

When she finally did, she took one breath. A sigh of relief that she was okay. And then, a single tear dropped from her eyeline. Spencer couldn't take it. He stood and she followed suit, "Come here," He spoke before taking her into a tight hug. "You're safe, I promise." 

She pulled away just slightly but never dared to break touch, "The only reason I got away was because I had pepper spray in my bag," She explained. 

Spencer thought on that and then an idea came to mind. "Come with me," The boy took a hold of her hand, guiding the girl through the bullpen towards the meeting room where the rest of the team had been.

The round table was scattered with files and papers. Garcia typed away at her laptop while the rest were debriefing. At the entrance of the pair, they glanced up. 

Before they could ask any questions, Spencer started rambling, never daring to let go of Y/n's hand. "The unsub was protesting on the street, he's some kind of right-wing enthusiast. He was going on about the left-wing 'agenda', about how it's ruining America." He explained. "Not only that, but Y/n used pepper spray on him."

Like that, they had something, "He would have had to go to the hospital?" JJ thought.

"Or at least bought some kind of medical supplies."

"Yeah, saline wipes or there's a nasal spray that helps the pain." Spencer went on to explain.

From there, Hotch turned to Garcia, "Cross check avid right-wing protesters in the D.C. areas, men with low criminal offences, things like hate crime. Then look at anyone whose been admitted for treatment of pepper spray or has bought any medical supplies to treat it."

Like that, the aggressive typing ensued. The team were all waiting, Y/n still at Spencer's side, anxious for the name of her attacker to be revealed. "I've got it, Tony Jones."

When Hotch stood from his chair, the rest of the team started to follow. "Send us the address, Garcia."

"Already done it, Sir."

Each of the team members stood, one by one walking passed Y/n. That was apart from Garcia who was still glued to her laptop, sending the address to the rest of the team. Spencer was about to turn when Y/n reached for the boy's hand once again. Her eyes filled with nothing but worry. "Do you have to go?"

Her question had made his heart ache. His eyes flickered to Garcia who was already glancing at the two, "I- I probably should but, but Garcia will stay with you." He offered.

Y/n looked back at the extravagant woman who was smiling, "Of course, I've got loads of things I can show you in my office!" She gleamed.

Y/n returned the smile before turning back to Spencer, "You'll be careful, right?"

The boy nodded, "Of course," He replied before taking her in his arms once again. But this time, when he pulled away ever so slightly, it was to place a gentle kiss to her forehead.

And like that, a soft smile, a goodbye, was passed between the two before Spencer turned away to join the rest of the team. She stared out the door of the conference room until Spencer slipped away. From there, she turned, a weak smile given to Garcia as she came to join her at the round table.

The other woman had watched the interaction and, while she wasn't a profiler, she wasn't oblivious to the world of loving. "He really cares about you, doesn't he?" She asked. Though, Garcia already knew the answer.

"I care about him just as much," Even after all this time, a piece of her heart still belonged to Spencer Reid - it always would.

"You're not just an old friend, are you?"

Y/n swallowed, glimmers of that high school Summer filling her brain. "It was, complicated." She described. "We erm, only really had a Summer as..." How could she describe it? "More than friends, I guess. And then we were both shipped off to college. And I mean, we lost contact. As a lot of people do." And 12 years later here she was.

Garcia offered her a smile, "You still love him, don't you?"

The girl giggled but gave a nod, "I don't think I ever stopped."

"Well, if my time with Doctor Reid has taught me anything, the way he is with you, I mean it's like no other." Her hand brushed at her shoulder gently, "I don't think your feeling is one-sided."

That would stick in her head for the next hour. While Spencer and the rest of the team were arresting Tony Jones, Garcia was giving the girl a tour of her office. Everything wonderful and weird. And while she tried her best to pay attention, her mind kept being dragged over to Spencer. If he was safe, if he was coming back...if, once again, everything had changed.

She knew one thing: she would make sure they didn't lose contact this time around.

When the boy finally returned, he practically rushed through the BAU to find her. She was at Garcia's side as they exited her office, "Y/n," He called.

The girl's head snapped to him, her pace quickening as she came to reach him, "Did you?"

He nodded, "He's at the station, don't worry." He assured.

"Oh, good, yeah," She spoke before a sigh fell from her lips. "So, I mean, what happens now? Do I just go home?" The idea of such, while stupid to think so, was almost disappointing. Going home meant she wasn't in Spencer's company any longer. And that wasn't something she wasn't to lose just yet.

But Spencer's reaction was a similar one, "I can walk you home, if you want of course."

Her smile grew, "I'd like that."

"I'll just erm," He gestured to his FBI vest, "I'll only be a second."

And so she watched him leave for barely a minute, coming back in his shirt. He took her hand, led her into the lift and pressed for the ground floor. A moment of silence. A moment of thought. One of which was urgring Y/n on.

She glanced over at the boy, "You know I always think everything happens for a reason." Her nerves suddenly flooded her body as she realised what she was about to admit, "And as much as getting jumped was not fun, I'm glad it brought me back to you, Spencer."

Y/n turned to face him, barely any space between them, "I missed you."

"I missed you too, Spence."

With that, Y/n made the leap. She closed that gap, their lips meeting every so soft, ever so longing. Like they had both been waiting for this moment for 12 years. And when they pulled away, her hands cupping his face and his placed at her waist, it was like they were 18 again. "Promise we'll keep in contact now?" He almost joked.

And she chuckled, "Promise."

[orchidbreezefc]

ok. years have passed and we've had some distance, so i'm finally gonna take the leap of faith that tma fandom is finally ready to hear me on this. let's talk about tannins.

161 was the first tma episode i heard on early release, and i felt the bit where martin declines wine and cites tannins was pretty obvious in its implications. cool, got it, say no more.

imagine my surprise when i was one of maybe three people i saw read between the lines there, in a fandom famous for red stringing--a fandom that immediately caught the much less obvious thread of ignition sources in the same episode. i'll spell it out: alcohol is an issue for martin.

maybe it just felt obvious because addiction is a pet issue for me--as it is for jonny, who has said everything he writes is filtered through a lens of addiction. i don't know if that's due to his own experience or a loved one's, and i won't speculate; i also don't know if martin personally struggled with drinking or just avoids it for fear he would, but alcohol would fit what we know of his family. his dad walking out and his mum spiralling into bitter wallowing and verbal abuse? i'd bet one or both of them drank, yeah.

on a basic level martin tries to decline alcohol, and that alone should have raised eyebrows given what we know of martin and, again, a fandom that dissects everything. we already knew martin "K" blackwood lied about his personal life and his family in particular, especially pre-canon, which is when this flashback took place. i was shocked that everyone took his flimsy excuse at face value with no further questions.

and the excuse is flimsy. martin turns down wine by--nervously--exclaiming tannins are "a proven headache trigger!" which sounds like trivia from a magazine cover and not the words of someone who actually has headaches--and it hasn't come up before or since. jon, confused, points out that tea, a drink martin consumes to a degree that is memetic both in- and out-of-universe, also contains tannins, and martin squawks a panicked, "what?!"

if tannins are enough of a concern for martin that he knew they're in wine and so avoids it, why didn't he know they're in his drink of choice? why does he still drink tea at the time of canon, and why doesn't he struggle with constant headaches from consuming 'a proven headache trigger' day in and day out? why, indeed, would someone avoid wine and not tea?

when sasha insists martin drink he caves and agrees to 'just a drop'. i imagine him pouring it in a plant, which admittedly he could have done if tannins really were the issue. i will say that i, for one, would be less likely to falsely agree to something that makes me physically ill than to a private issue that i'd rather not be pressed on any further. this scene also establishes martin's birthday was an ice cream party instead of the more traditional visit to a pub.

also, this scene was in the first episode of the final season, as one of three flashbacks that could have been to any pre-canon event in the archives. prime narrative real estate. not really time one would waste on establishing the important character context that martin has... headaches. which never comes up before or after, even regarding the week he spent in spiral town. but you know what is pretty crucial character background...?

it felt like a no-brainer, and yet all i saw was h/c fluff about jon attending to martin's headaches. and i hate feeling bitter about disability representation. i want folks with chronic headaches to feel seen and have fluffy escapist fantasies. i don't want to be mad about people portraying a character with a disability. but, guys? you got the wrong disability. jonny sent a clear message, and it went over fandom's head.

[therabbitthatpostthings]

I checked twitter to see people talking about Dragon Age Absolution couples, rooting for a second season or memes. I definitely wasn't expecting to see people excusing slavery

[badgerbl00d]

captain's girl

☆ characters: akagami no shanks

☆ up next: tbd

☆ summary: shanks has always had a soft spot for you but as he spends more time around you that feeling intensifies- he's fallen, and hard.. how will he confess?

☆ a/n: i lost the ask that originally submitted this but i loved this prompt! so so cute and always lovely to write for my favorite captain.. shanks nation rise!

Shanks hadn’t slept in days. 

Shanks- an emperor, had been a pirate for decades and he knew well what it meant to be selfish. To be faced with all the treasure and beauty in the World and it not be enough until one had it all to himself. But he’d only ever seen it. In allies and enemies alike he had seen that corrupting burning want- no, need for something that drives one nearly mad. He’d seen fellow seamen be consumed by this bubbling and boiling desire that had always sickened him to think about.

And then there was you. Beautiful, strong-willed, and unafraid of pirates and men and danger and swords and, all of the sudden, he began feeling the symptoms of that dangerous selfishness. He’d watch you laugh with Benn, or cook with Lucky, or play cards with Yasopp and his chest would tighten. His nerves would begin to ebb and flow in uncertainty and the terrifyingly unfamiliar feeling of jealousy began to sprout within the captain of the Red Haired Pirates. He’d spend hours poring over a potential solution– something to make it go away. But everything he tried was useless. Any slight progress immediately crumbled the moment you walked by him. He’d found a nice girl on an island and flirted with her, buying her drinks, treating her special as the rest of the crew began to pour into the bar. It was working! She liked the same music as him and thought he was funny. But then you’d walked in with Beckman, your perfume immediately recognizable to him and he folded. You were entirely captivating to him, and bless him, he tried to listen to the girl in front of him and feign interest in what she was saying but all he could focus on was the sound of you laughing and thanking the men who were sending drinks your way. On a separate occasion, he’d taken a different approach. You were in a particularly cheeky mood and not the most prone to taking orders, so he got frustrated. He leant into that frustration, barking at you for not listening. But you just rolled your eyes and begrudgingly got up to do what he was asking. As you walked past him, you raked a fingernail across his chest and offered assistance if he needed “any help de-stressing.” And with a wink you were off. After that little incident, he could hardly sleep and was quite literally plagued by (very inappropriate) thoughts of you and decided it would be best if he didn’t do anything for a while. This had been going on for months now.  A one sided game of cat and mouse that Shanks did not want to be playing, after all, he wasn't used to playing the role of mouse. Shanks was a man who always got what he wanted.

But he was realizing there was no escape. Constantly you teased him, tempted him, lured him, all to act like nothing the next moment. His head was spinning. Just this morning, you ran into him at breakfast and asked if he wanted to go into town with you. He came up with some half assed excuse and tried his hardest to keep his composure when you pouted at his and said, “Pretty please?” He went up and moped in his office, going over all those moments when he felt that now familiar ache in his chest– that throbbing pain that felt like his swollen heart was being mushed up against his ribcage and had been making his daily life on the ship, oh, so inconvenient. 

Like a few months ago when, in your typical fashion, you’d put together a small band out of the rag-tag musicians on the crew. An upright bass player out of your intel gatherer, a drummer out of one of Hongo’s assistants, some brass players that you put through a very selective audition, and, of course, you as the singer. He remembers walking out after having a few drinks with those of his men that he was closest with and hearing the sound of your voice singing a soft jazz tune. ‘I wish you bluebirds, in the spring…..’ his heart picking up a bit, and him leaning over to look at the band playing, ‘To give your heart a song to sing, and then a kiss…’ Him rushing down the stairs and urging the crew to dance, asking Lucky to get behind the bar and start making cocktails and drinks, ‘But more than this, I wish you love’ anything so that he could sit and listen to you. He remembers the boyish surge of energy that coursed through him when you shot him a playful wink. A thank you for entertaining your antics and encouraging your little band of criminal musicians. 

Or last week, when you stopped by his office (he’d begun spending more and more time locked in there attempting to find reprieve from your presence which was quickly becoming all too much for him to be around) and knocked on his door in the way you always knocked on any door. Three rhythmic little taps, always quiet and polite. “Come in!” he’d said, forcing his voice to steady itself like his heart wasn’t crawling up into his throat. “Hey Shanks– I have something for you.” You made your way to his desk, dropping a little parcel on it before going to lay down on the couch in his office, a seat he always kept open for you. It was just an old leather chair, but he knew how much you liked it. He opened up the parcel, watching you pull out a cigarette and bring it to your lips, holding it droopily between them as you dug around in your jacket for a lighter. He finished unwrapping the gift, a compass falling out. Gold and the initials R.H.S. engraved in the back. The glass had been carved out so that it was angular and there was a detailed inking of the ocean in the back, and the north arrow was dark red. He turned it over in his palm, “R.H.S.?” he asked. “It’s funny, huh! Red-Hair-Shanks,” you laughed, “It made Benny crack up so I snatched it. They wanted $15,000 for it! Like hell was I gonna pay that…. Hey, do you have a lighter?” You walked back over to him, leaning on his desk, looking down at his face, batting your eyes at him all doe-like. He felt like he might faint. 'Benny' he felt a pang of jealousy but smiled to himself at the nickname. Beckman hated nicknames but you'd started calling him Benny and for the first time ever there was no protest from the man's lips. You'd wiggled your way into all their hearts like that- helping Lucky with groceries and keeping Yasopp company when he drank more than he could stand.

“Sure do, sweetheart,” he maintained his typical flirty cadence but failed to sound as confident as he usually does. You shot him a look. He sheepishly handed you the lighter but instead of taking it you leant over further, beckoning for him to light the cigarette for you. He swallowed and brought the lighter up to the cigarette, the two of you making eye contact as he lit it. You blew a playful puff of smoke at him before making your way back over to the sofa. You laid across it, kicking your shoes off and pulling a magazine from his shelf. “Playboy? Really?” He gave you an embarrassed grin and shrugged. You made a mental note that this magazine had been left open on a photo of a bikini-clad girl that looked an awful like you. Pervert, you thought. You put the magazine away and sunk further into the chair, taking long drags of the cigarette, filling up the room with smoke. Shanks was trying not to stare a hole through you and limited himself from looking over in your general direction. You were so at peace, your legs draped over the arm of the chair and your hands above your head.  An hour passed like this, the two of you sharing a silence that was only peaceful on your end. Shanks sat at his desk pretending to be deeply interested in a blank piece of paper and mulled over possible topics of conversation. He was trying not to beat himself up over his newfound shyness- he was like a teenage boy talking to a girl for the first time. When he finally got the courage to ask you about your most recent errand he was cut off before he could even start.

“Y/n!!! Help me with dinner, eh?!”

Lucky. You groaned sitting up, remembering that you’d promised to help him out with tonight’s dinner last week. “Sorry, Captain,” you said, putting your shoes back on, “I’d love to stay and fog up your office a bit more but duty calls.” 

He nodded and got up, nearly running into you. “Ah, sorry princess,” he said, guiding you gently out of the room with a hand on your back. 

“Try not to miss me,” you’d said, taking the cigarette out of your mouth and placing it in his. He furrowed his brows in equal amounts of confusion and sexual frustration. “Lucky won’t let me smoke in the kitchen,” you explained. You shot him a wink and were off. 

He took a short puff of the cigarette before taking it out and staring at it between his fingers. Your red lipstick stained the end of it. He took a very self indulgent inhale before setting it down on an ashtray in his office. It was the first time he’d smoked in a while.

He hadn’t remembered it feeling so good.

He was late to dinner that night and even Benn had indicated some degree of worry about his captain, asking if he was alright. 

Shanks knew this couldn’t last forever– that he would have to do something before he lost his ability to lead his ship entirely. But then, of course, there was what happened yesterday.

Some rookie pirates had convinced themselves it would be a good idea to try and loot your ship. You’d been out on the deck helping Beckman with some chores when the first group of them climbed overboard. Neither of you had particularly expressive reactions– after all, you could tell within a few seconds that they were neither strong nor experienced. Still, it was the general attitude of the Red Hair Pirates to avoid conflict as much as possible. So when they wrapped rope around your wrists and held knives to your throats you and Benn didn’t flinch. Some newer recruits had sounded the alarm which eventually led to the rest of the crew making their way lazily out onto the deck. Shanks emerged from his office, reading glasses still on and laughed at the sight.

“Yasopp– take a pic, will ya!?” he laughed, slapping him on the back, “Benny we’re gonna hang this up in the dining hall!”

Benn rolled his eyes and you smiled. It took another several moments before you realized that your body was feeling more and more weakened by the moment, but when you finally felt a dullness creeping up your legs you noticed that the man holding you was a devil fruit user. The Neru Neru no Mi you believed it was called, Sleep Sleep Fruit. Fatigue started to wash over you and you stumbled forward slightly. The laughter on the ship immediately ceased and Benn called your name. You tried responding but instead fell back, landing against your assailant's chest. Yasopp and Lucky both brought their hands to their pistols, and Benn had taken a more offensive stance though it was clear the effect was starting to weigh on him as well. 

“We’ll kill them both,” one of the looters had yelled. Yasopp shot Shanks a look, waiting for some kind of command. “Yasopp–” Shanks started, but he hesitated a moment. If his sniper made any kind of mistake it would be your life taken instead. Before he could react, your captor had drawn the knife down your arm, smirking at the cry of pain you let out as your arm was coated in red. “Shoot him,” he said, gaze turning black. You passed out, though whether it was from the pain or the effect of Shanks’ emperor’s haki on your weakened body was unclear. But the last thing you saw before blacking out was the haunting anger on Shanks’ face.

You woke up a bit later, your head throbbing and your arm bandaged. “Holy shit,” you muttered, “What happened?” Hongo and Beckman were sitting by your bed talking to each other and Lucky, Yasopp, and a few others were playing cards. 

"You passed out from the effects of the devil fruit," Benn explained, "And you got a nasty cut on your arm. But Hongo says you'll be healed up by the weekend."

You blushed, somewhat embarrassed that you were the only one to have been injured. "What happened to the other crew?"

Benn shot you a half-smile. An expressive mixture of pride and shame. "The Captain took care of it. Honestly all we could do was watch, we all know better than to get in his way when he gets like that. Never seen this ship so bloody, that's for sure."

You grimaced, "Suppose they won't be messing with us again?"

Benn laughed, "Definitely not."

“Hey, Y/n!” Lucky called out, “Want anything to eat?”

You sat up, pushing yourself to the edge of the bed and grabbing the glass of water Benn offered you, “Yeah, Luck. I’ll take anything, honestly. Where is Shanks?” Benn sighed and looked over at Yasopp who was giggling like a twelve-year old. You got the message. 

“Maybe we should tell him it’s obvious? And it’ll fix things?” 

Benn shook his head and leant back in his chair, “Nah, it would crush the guy. Maybe if you say something to him, though?” You thought about it for a minute. You'd talked with each other before about the captain's feelings. How he acted every time he was around you. Benn added that he'd never seen him like that before, "Buggy's given us stories about how he used to be around girls. He'd run the other way when a pretty lady talked to him. He's obviously gotten over it since then but it's sort of nice to see him like this."

"Can't blame him," Yasopp added, winking at you, "You're about the prettiest thing on the sea."

Yasopp was still laughing about it, over a game of cards with Lucky and Hongo. You appreciated their company while you rested.

“I don’t know guys. You know I love him just as much but will it be weird? I mean– no offense, but this ship isn’t really the ideal romantic setting. And what if he plays favorites?”

They all laughed at this, “He already is, sweetheart!”

“Just tell him!”

“We’ll have a big ol’ wedding!”

You rolled your eyes and asked to be dealt into the card game they were playing. Lucky came back with a bowl of soup for you. Laughter was filling up the small medical room and it echoed down the hall...  

Shanks’ crush on you was astoundingly obvious and what was more surprising was how he had been moping about it for the past four months. He was now in his room, shrouded in embarrassment. Half of it stemmed from the generally well known fact that Shanks and his crew were untouchable- or at least, should be. And the other, perhaps greater, half from the fact that you'd ended up hurt because he’d hesitated. It also didn't help that he had doubted Yasopp at all- he knew he never missed. He’d spent the evening drinking a bottle of whiskey to himself and replaying other embarrassing faux pas he’d committed in front of you. The bottle of empty whiskey sat in front of him on the desk and the sun had long set. He got up, feeling miserable, and decided to head to bed. He grabbed the empty bottle, pausing before he grabbed it. Your cigarette from a week ago sat in the mauve ceramic ashtray on his desk (also a gift from you– you’d said it reminded you of his “ugly pants”). He stared at the lipstick still staining the white paper on the end of the cigarette. His chest tightened and he looked out the window of his office. You were out on deck, your arm bandaged up, hauling some rope into a metal bin. He smiled to himself- an injury like that was no excuse for chores. You looked gorgeous. A white glow surrounded you from the beaming moonlight up above. Your hair was messy and flowed freely around your face shifting the shadows that fell on it. He knew, suddenly, that he had to talk to you. That in all his embarrassment and emotion and confusion about his feelings, he’d neglected to check up on you. He set the bottle down and grabbed the half-smoked cigarette, slipping it into his pocket. He paused at the door, momentarily enjoying the nerves that were coursing through his body. How long had it been since he last felt excitement like this? There were moments at sea where he realized that, thanks to his age and experience, he no longer felt those pangs and throes of youthful worry and excitement. But this? This was new and he was reeling like never before. He was submerged in uncharted waters and all of a sudden that spark of adventure that follows every pirate flared up inside him. Shanks closed the door to his office behind him, taking a deep breath. 

You wrapped up the rest of the rope and threw it into the container, before taking a seat on it. Closing your eyes and taking a moment to yourself. It was rare to have a night so quiet. You could hear the faint sound of laughter and talking coming from below the deck. The ship was slowly rocking back and forth.

“Mind if I sit next to you?”

You blinked your eyes open to see Shanks standing in front of you. It still surprised you how a man of his size and power could sneak up on you so easily. It was a nice reminder of how in control he actually was of everything around him. It put you at ease to know you were in such responsible hands and guidance. 

“You feel ok? It’s my fault I should’ve–”

You smiled at him, “What? This? I’m fine, Captain– I’ve dealt with much worse, that I can promise you.” He frowned at that, “That’s not a good thing, Y/n. I don’t like thinking about you getting hurt.” You shrugged and ruffled his hair, “I’m a pirate. A Red-Hair Pirate. It’s bound to happen. And you’re not perfect either. Believe it or not. What’s going on with you lately? So sappy.” You knew very well what was going on with him.

Shanks smiled and looked down at the floor. This was it. Now or never. 

“Y/n… You know that, well, women love me and- and that I love women,” he started. Your smile dropped. 

“M-hm.”

“Uh,” he rubbed his neck sheepishly, like a child getting scolded, “Well, I guess what I’m trying to say is that you’re not like other women.”

You looked at him, “Are you sure about that?” You looked unamused. He steeled himself– he was an emperor of the sea, goddamnit, you were just a woman! Just a girl on his crew.

He knew that was a lie.

You were his girl on his crew. And he was being eaten alive by your existence, completely consumed by the thought of you. He couldn’t live another day without relieving himself of his constant torture and the emotional suffering you put him through. He couldn’t wake up another morning without you next to him, begging him to sleep in a bit longer and asking him to hold you tighter. He couldn’t spend another night watching you laugh and smile and be the most beautiful, enchanting thing in the world and not call you his. You were his, not through ownership but through love. 

“Alright! Damn it, woman, you’re so intimidating.” Your smile returned. 

“I love you,” he sighed. It wasn’t as dramatic as either of you had pictured. He said it like he was simply reminding you.

“I love you, Y/n. And I have for months. Since I first saw you– since you first started giving me random antique shop gifts and coming into my office at the most inconvenient times and filling it up with smoke. I can’t look at the color red and not think of you. That’s my color, damn it! And yet– I see red and think of the brand of cigarettes you like and the lipstick you wear and the way your laughter sounds and the color of your nail polish. I can’t listen to music and not think of you. I mean- you’ve come on board and turned everything upside down. My men, my violent men, are playing jazz on Thursday nights! Lucky’s new favorite thing to drink is Cosmopolitans and Yasopp is taking daily showers and, christ, Benn’s new nickname is Benny and he likes it! Everything I have reminds me of you. This is basically your ship now. And I love it. I love how you're everywhere. And I- I need you. I want you but it's more than that- I need you.”

He took a deep breath and looked at you for the first time in weeks. You laughed- at him, and grabbed his hand. His cheeks turned bright red and he felt like a teenager again. You squeezed his hand, “F-i-n-a-l-l-y.” He took a moment to sound out your spelling, and smiled somewhat defeatedly. He laid his head down on your shoulder and mumbled into you, “Was it obvious?”

 You wrapped your arms around his neck and leaned your head against his. It was refreshing to touch him without it being strange or feeling unnatural. To just hold one another and understand that that was all it was– a touch. That before either of you said anything and broke this mundane, normal silence everything was perfect. There was no room for mistake or anxiety or insecurity. There was just the mass of red hair on your shoulder ticking your neck and your arms wrapped around his. But you figured he’d suffered long enough. 

“Very,” you said, answering his question, “There’re a bunch of betting pools regarding when, and if, you’ll confess. Though you don’t make a great effort to hide it. Looks like Benny’s gonna make some cash tonight.”

He shot up, somewhat offended, “I do hide it! I’ve kept my distance from you and treated you like everyone else.”

You laughed and sat him down on the bin next to you, “No, you haven’t. I’m your favorite. And though you have been avoiding me, when you’re around me your face is pink and you lose all that playboy gusto you think the ladies like. Plus you have those magazines lying around. It flatters me how much I resemble some of those models.”

His mouth fell open at this, realizing he had left it wide out in the open. You smiled at this, but said nothing. It was quiet out again– everyone had gone to bed early, tired from the day’s commotion, an unexpected change of pace from the typical mundane life of a pirate at sea that normally consisted of chores upon chores upon chores. The sea was calm tonight, almost eerily so. You rested your head against Shank’s shoulder and closed your eyes, it was quiet again. You could tell he was itching for a response. You smiled, enjoying the effect you had on him.

“I love you, too.”

You felt Shanks tense and opened your eyes, turning to look at him. He had a stupidly large smile plastered on his face. He was so damn handsome. His hand slid up your back and came to rest on your neck. He gently pushed your face toward his, a smile creeping up your lips, and tested the waters. You closed the gap, closing your eyes as you kissed your captain, shifting forward and finding your way onto his lap. Your arms wrapped tightly around his neck and you could feel him smiling against your lips. Shanks broke the kiss, pulling away after giving you a few more pecks. 

His arm sank down to wrap around your waist and pull you in even tighter. He rested his forehead against yours and looked down at your lips, plump from the kissing.

“You’re mine,” he said. 

“Yours.”

He sighed, relief flooding his body. You rubbed his neck, "Guess I wasn't as obvious as you, hm?" He laughed and squeezed your hand, "No. God, I was terrified. What an awful feeling."

You smiled. You were getting tired, and your arm was throbbing. "Wanna come with me to see Hongo? I think my arm should get re-wrapped." He nodded, standing up. You walked toward the infirmary, while Shanks stood back for a moment. Waiting awkwardly.

"Shanks?"

His name had never sounded so lovely. He was worried, "Should we tell people yet? The crew- I mean."

You laughed, and kept walking, "I think they'll figure out on their own. After all, I suspect that I'll be greeting them tomorrow morning with your shirt on."

He watched you walk on ahead a bit more before following after you, scooping you up in his arm and pressing kisses to your face. Shanks dropped you off outside of Hongo's door, letting you go in on your own. 'I want tonight to be just us,' you'd explained. Word does travel quickly on a ship. He waited outside the door, listening to you and Hongo talk while he rebandaged your arm. His chest felt warm and full, not with the previous tightness he'd experienced but full with satisfaction.

A familiar ebbing flow of egoism spread through his body. It was nice to be reminded of who he was. An emperor of the sea with one of the highest bounties of all time. A man feared and respected across the world. Wanted by the world government and untouchable to anyone. Almost anyone. Your voice bubbled up over the sound of his thoughts for a moment. His confidence had quickly reinstated itself.

After all, Shanks was a man who always got what he wanted.

[xqueen-of-disasterx]

The winner takes it all

𝐏𝐚𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠: Scarlett Johansson x fem!reader

𝐒𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐞𝐫𝐲: Scarlett Johansson just hit the peak of her career, she had everything: money power glory. One thing was missing, the Oscar. After she finally won the award she found a special way to celebrate her win with her perfect little girlfriend as a helper.

𝐖𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬: SMUT, dom!scarlett, sub!reader, alcohol use, oral, object insertion, recording of sexual activities, Oscar in places they shouldn't be, degradation

!Disclaimer English is not my first language so please excuse any grammar or spelling errors. This story is completely fictional. I do not own these characters!

𝐀/𝐍: I swear | was drunk while writing this l'm not a weirdo okay 😭

𝐌.𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭 | 𝐍𝐚𝐯𝐢𝐠𝐚𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧

Third times is the charm, right? That’s what Scarlett thought when she sat in the audience of this year Academy Awards. She was nominated for best actress for her latest movie, last time that had happened her award was stolen from her, but not today, she thought.

She sat in the big theatre room you, her younger co- star turned affair sat next to her, nervously she tapped her fingers over the armrest of the seat. “Scarlett” You called out the older actress had her eyes fixated on the still empty stage. “Scarlett?” You tried again hoping to reach through to her. “Huh? Yes, what’s the matter?” Her fingers still tapping the soft fabric of the armrest. “You’re so nervous” You slip your hand over hers “How couldn’t I be? Have you seen the competition this year? There’s no way I win against Emma Stone”

You chuckled intertwined our hands, it was dangerous you knew that, but luckily no one way paying attention to you. The fact that you shared so much more than just the screen was intoxicating to you, sneaking around the crew to share a few passionate minutes with the older actress. She made you feel the things none of your boyfriends ever could. How she touched you, loved you. But everything had to come to an end, and so did the affair you two had. “You blow them all out of the water” You assured her.

The alcohol did it’s job pretty well in Scarlett’s eyes she had had her faire share of expensive champagne glasses to calm her nerves. And then it got time for the category of best actress. The announcer had the all telling red envelope in hands opening it in exactly that moment. “The Oscar goes too” she slipped out the card “SCARLETT JOHANSSON” The theatre broke out into loud cheers and claps, Scarlett however didn’t even register her name being called she was still in a state of pure shock.

Both you and the director leaned in to give her a quick peak on the cheek and a small “You did it” before she made her way up to the stage to finally accept the thing she never thought she could get.

“You did it” You smiled at her when she made her way into her hotel room. You had sneaked off the after show party to surprise your older girlfriend. Nothing special really just a bit of champagne and lingerie but just seeing you spread out on the sheets made her crazy.

“Now what do we have here” She smirked she was clearly intoxicated and so were you. “Fuck baby girl” She groaned upon seeing your promiscuously clothed body. Later that night she had changed from the big dress to an expensive pantsuit. She slipped of her blazer placing it on to one of the hotel room’s chairs.

“You’re playing with the fire little girl” She chuckled her eyes never leaving your body. She sat her pretentious golden man on the bed side table. “I know what I’m doing” You breathed out. Your eyes meet and she down to kiss you.

Her hands slid over your exposed skin going onto your back. With skilled fingers she unclasped your bra slipping it off your shoulders only to throw it behind her. “Fuck you little slut, I’ve barely done anything and you’re nipples are already hard” Her degrading words forced a moan from your throat.

Her thumbs rolled over your hard nipples, she enjoyed seeing you squirm for her, under her. She chuckled before kissing down your stomach licking over the soft skin of your tummy.

She pressed her nose against your pubic bone taking in a deep breath. She tugged your panties from your legs tugging them into her pant pockets. She kissed your clit kitten licking the bundle of nerves. She paid extra attention to the spot because she knew how needy it made you.

She gave your cunt a few more bold licks bumping the crock of her nose against your over sensitive clit. She pushed her tongue inside your tight heat enjoying not only the taste but also the feeling of your muscles clenching around her.

“Fuck Scarlett” You moaned out your hands gripping tightly into the pillow behind your head. She kept on working you towards the edge of ecstasy until she pulled away letting you huff in annoyance all you wanted she just chuckled.

“Aw” she mocked you “Was my little girl just about to cum?” You shook your head still whining. Her eyes darted to the trophy next to you and a mischief grin was planned on her lips. You knew exactly what she was thinking about.

“Scarlett no” you said with urgency “What? I’m not doing anything” She reached out for the golden man upon closer inspection it had the right shape, you had taken bigger after all. “Well” She started her hands stroking over the stature “don’t you want to make me happy”

“I do but” Scarlett stopped me “No buts baby now spread your legs” You applied to her wishes spreading your legs for the older woman. She hummed in approval her fingers stroking through your slit collecting your wetness on her fingers.

She covers her trophy in your juices on her lips there was still this shit eating grin. She was more excited than a little kid on Christmas.

She held the cold metal against your entrance pushing the head of the stature past your hole, watching in an awe how your pussy ate the metal man.

“Fuck” She groaned as she heard the mewl sounds growing in volume the more the man disappeared. “That’s so hot” She shifted to her knees to reach out for her phone taking it from the nightstand

“I need this for my personal collection” She mumbled pointing the camera to where the Oscar was connected to your body. You both had agreed to her being allowed to videotape you, if she didn’t release it. You both knew that a leak of this video would make it onto every cover of every tabloid magazine. Did you care? Absolutely not. Scarlett even less

The feeling of the cold metal against your walls was intoxicating, you mewled and whimpered. She moved the stature in and out of your tight heat bringing you close to your release. With her skilled fingertips she played with you overstimulated clit loving how your body squirmed under her.

The camera was still on your glistering cunt the camera panting to your face twisted in pleasure. “Fuck I’m gonna cum” She smirked again throwing her phone away to pay more attention to your desperate body. “I know baby” She kissed your nipples with a few more thrust she made you see stars. She let you ride out your high before pulling out the award again watching in an awe how the cum dripped the golden man. “Scarlett” you breathed out still catching your breath “What the fuck”.

:)

Taglist:

@badbitchrebequinha @notaloserjustasnoozer @misscaptainchaos @tashakink @strawberrynatsstuff

[junesilk]

HIII omg ive been looking for a hxh blog for a WHILE there’s barely any that’s very active😭😭okok so since i’m a kurapika simp could you write headcanons and IF YOU WANTT, a mini scenario of jealous kurapika? hmm if you want an idea it could be smth like the reader has a guy bsf and kura got jealous from the lack of attention :(( THANK YOUU!

JEALOUS, JEALOUS BOY!

hxh main 4 x fem!reader

characters included: kurapika, leorio, killua, gon

i absolutely will, i have always loved jealousy prompts!! i’ve got several of these asks so far, so i’ll just kill multiple birds with one stone and go ahead and put them all together into a list of headcanons

not beta read ☝️

kurapika—

WHEN HE’S JEALOUS…

He’d be quiet in the moment, withdrawing himself from the conversation while staying by your side.

You most likely wouldn’t notice it right away because he is naturally a quiet person—

The most he would do is send a glare at the man taking all of your attention away, but other than that he’d avoid conflict.

As soon as you two were alone in a private setting, he would be much more clingy than usual

Which, in of itself would be unusual, as he’s not the type to be so physically attatched.

Perhaps it was his more possessive side coming out to play, but it certainly was new.

WHEN YOU’RE JEALOUS…

He’d know. Out of all of the main four, he’d pick it up fastest.

If the conversation wasn’t important, he’d find a way to end it quickly, to save you the jealousy.

If it is, he probably wouldn’t speed through it quite as much, but he’d place his hand on the small of your back,

His little way of assuring you he’s all yours.

He’d bring it up once you were alone, assuring you that he only had eyes for you.

leorio—

WHEN HE’S JEALOUS…

You’d feel his hand slide around your waist, looking up to see him staring at the other person

It was weird, you’d never seen him like… this!

If he was actively speaking in the conversation, every sentence referring to you would include some form of a pet name.

You could’ve sworn he said the words honey & babe at LEAST seven times

Once at home, he’d remind you who you loved most, pressing kisses to your flushed face.

WHEN YOU’RE JEALOUS…

Oh boy.

He’d be so proud, honestly. You loved him enough to be jealous? Heart melted.

You’d take his hand, tightly pressing your palms together and squeezing.

It’d take him a while to realize you’d been giving the other girl nasty looks for a few minutes, but once he did, he chuckled.

He’d make an excuse, wave goodbye to the poor girl, and then turn his attention to you.

“Woah, babe. If looks could kill..” He’d joke about it for a while, but in the end, he’d assure you there’s nobody he loves more.

killua—

WHEN HE’S JEALOUS…

He’d be extremely mean. Not to you, but to the man you were speaking to.

Killua is naturally really sarcastic, but he takes it to a whole other level.

Scoffing whenever the man made a joke, crossing his arms and looking away when you laugh.

He might use his assassin lineage to scare the other man away, but it’s rare he would need it.

He’s scary enough.

After freaking out the other man to the point where he’d left, he’d flick your forehead and roll his eyes. “That guy was looking at you weird!”

WHEN YOU’RE JEALOUS…

You wouldn’t know that he knew.

Not until the day afterwards, when there’s a chocolate robot laying beside your head when you wake up.

It’s his way for apologizing, or just letting you know that he did, in fact, know you were jealous

When asked, he’d shrug it off.

gon—

WHEN HE’S JEALOUS…

Gon’s not the type of person to get jealous.

He simply just doesn’t. It’s not because he doesn’t care for you or anything.

It’s because he’s too busy becoming friends with the new person!

Sure, he may pout if he’s not very interested in the conversation being held, but that’s the most he’d do.

WHEN YOU’RE JEALOUS…

We’ve all seen the movie.

Gon is oblivious, and remains to be that way unless you flat out tell him.

Feels bad for not realizing it earlier, but once told he tries his best to make it up to you.

He’d take you out on a date the next day, perhaps a picnic or something out in nature.

You can’t stay mad at him. After all, he just doesn’t pick up on these kinds of things very fast.

i hate how this got progressively shorter…… but wtv!!!

[hayatoseyepatch]

Description: NSFW headcannons for Hajime Umemiya. Character: Hajime Umemiya. Word Count: 1.9k Contains: Fem!Reader x Hajime Umemiya. Smut. Breeding kink, daddy calling, p in v, marking, free use, public sex, exhibitionism, oral (f!receiving), praise, dirty talk, implied size difference.

Authors Note: This was a request for some Umemiya NSFW headcannons. I hope you enjoy this annonie! I've been dying to write more Ume (He's my second fave after Suo after all) so thank you for giving me an excuse to write some of the many many thoughts I have about this beautiful man. (❀ ˆ³ˆ)♡

•⋅⊰ Hajime Umemiya has a breeding kink, I will not budge on this. He calls everyone in Bofurin his family, and after losing his, he is so excited to start a family with you. Nothing gets Ume harder than the thought of filling your womb. And nothing is going to be able to stop him until that urge has been fulfilled.  

The day had started innocently enough, a visit made to the group home to drop off some of the produce you both had harvested from his garden that morning. But as he watched you interact with the little ones, he couldn’t help but let his mind wander. The thoughts of you holding your own child in your arms as they giggled. The idea of the both of you looking up at him as you welcomed him home. These thoughts consumed him. And as much as they made his heart fill with warmth, he couldn’t help but feel the strain of his cock in his pants.

The thought of your tummy becoming swollen with his child plagued his mind as the head of his cock kissed your cervix. Your knees are thrown over his forearms, hands desperately gripping onto him for support. You both had barely made it to your bedroom, his lips attacking yours hungrily as he practically ripped your clothes from your body. A simple “Fuck, sunflower, I need you so bad” spoken breathlessly against your lips as he hoisted you into his arms. Groaning at the feeling of your velvety walls squeezing him as he slipped inside. His head ducking down to take a nipple in his mouth tongue circling the nub before letting his teeth grace you gently. Mind wandering to how swollen they would become, filled with milk, wondering how it would taste. The thought alone drove him to set a harsh pace, the sound of his hips slamming against yours filling the room. He pulls his head from you, teeth dragging your nipple until his mouth is free with a satisfying ‘pop’. Lips pressing themselves against your ear, words breathless as he spoke. ”I want to see that beautiful face when I breed this pretty pussy with my cum, bunny.”

He pulled from you, maneuvering you in his strong arms until you both reached the bed, having you lay on your back beneath him. Knees pushed to your chest once more by his grip on your thighs. Your hands gripping onto his skin, nails biting into the skin. Feeling an incredible sense of emptiness at the loss of his cock. Knowing just what to say to get him back inside you. “Hajime please, feel so empty. Put a baby inside of me, Haji, I need you to breed my cunt, daddy.” You looked up at him between your legs, the tears that lined your lashes only enforced the need behind your words, the need that caused the mess between your legs.

He leans down pressing a sweet kiss against your lips as he slips back into your cunt, thumb rubbing against your clit to match his pace. He could feel the spasming of your walls, the want, the desperate need for you to come all over his cock. He attacked your neck, leaving kisses and bites along the surface area of your neck. Pleased as the skin deepens in color with his mark. Though what really sent him into a frenzy, was one phrase in particular, you always knew just what to say to drive him insane. “Yeah, princess? Need me to fill that slutty cunt baby? Want me to fold you in half and breed you, princess, want me to really make you a mommy, huh baby? Well, how could I say no after you begged for it so pretty sunflower?”

•⋅⊰ Free use with Umemiya is a must. He often has you foregoing the use of your panties. If you do, more often than not he winds up pocketing them anyway, so what’s the point? Umemiya needs to have you at any given time, he’s a busy man after all, he’s got to make sure his little flower is well tended to doesn’t he?

His lips were attached to your neck, leaving hot kisses in their wake. One of his large hands keep you in place with its strong grip on your waist. He takes the opportunity to slide a large hand under the hem of your skirt. Fingers digging into the plush of your ass for stability. He takes the opportunity of you leaning forward to the side as leverage to slide his hand lower, slipping your panties to the side, swiping the wetness there, fingers sliding past your entrance. He groans into your neck feeling the way your slick walls swallow his fingers hungrily. “You're always so nice and ready for me, no matter what aren’t you sunflower?” He purrs into your ear, free hand coming to cup your breast through the thin fabric of your sundress. The both of you had just been gardening, watering the buds that were just beginning to sprout. The way the dress hugged your curves had Umemiya in a frenzy. He knew it was dangerous to touch you so openly, but that just added to the thrill.

You were frozen in his embrace Sugishita was not too far away as he tended to the other end of the garden. Your cheeks flushed, eyes locked on him to make sure you both wouldn’t get caught. “Hajime.. wait.. Sugishita is-“ Your words were quickly cut off, hands flying to your mouth to muffle your moans as Umemiya curls his fingers upward, expertly finding that spongy pot that makes the corners of your vision go white. He grinned against your ear, though he couldn’t ignore the spike of jealousy he felt hearing you call the younger male’s name so breathlessly. “Well then I guess you're gonna have to be real quiet now aren’t you darling?” He never ceased in his ministrations, if anything he doubled his efforts. Fingers pumping in and out of your drenched pussy, thumb moving to rub tight circles on your clit.

Your nails dig into the skin of his forearm, using your grip to help yourself stand on shaky legs as Umemiya works you over with his fingers, trying desperately to keep your wounds to a minimum. If anyone were to see you from the back it would simply look like Umemiya was holding you sweetly in his arms. But you knew better, you were suspicious Sugishita did too from how attentively he was gardening, tips of his ears peeking from within his long hair being red. “Haji.. please.” You whimper softly around your hand, his answer is immediate doubling his efforts as he pumps the fingers that were inside you faster. The thumb of his other hand circled your nipple before taking the bud between two fingers.

“Go on baby, make a mess on my fingers. I know you want to sunflower, make a mess for me.” He groans, rubbing his clothed erection against your ass, letting you feel just how riled up touching you was getting him. His words send you over the edge, teeth clamping down on your bottom lip as you will your hips not to buck against his fingers as your walls spasm around your digits as you cum for him. Breathing heavily, turning back to look at him, only to catch him slipping the soaked digits in his mouth, humming as he gets a taste of you. “Sweetest nectar I’ve ever tasted, honeybee.” He chuckles, deep in your ear, before grabbing your wrist. “Hey Sugishita!” he calls loudly, causing you and the other males’ cheeks to warm with color. “Me and Sunflower need to grab some supplies from the shed real quick, gotta fill her up ya know?” All three of you knew in that moment Umemiya was not talking about the garden.

•⋅⊰ Hajime Umemiya is the CEO of pussy eating. This man eats your cunt like he is STARVING. He is not satisfied unless you're absolutely dripping down his face. He likes it mess he craves it. He gets drunk on your taste. It brings him so much pleasure to taste you against his lips and even more to hear the sounds that leave your lips as he does it.

Umemiya begins the long and tortuous process of trailing kisses down your frame, grinning against your skin as he feels your body arch into his touch, finally ending his slow descent by tugging the waistband of your panties back with his teeth, shivering in anticipation at the sound of the elastic snapping against your skin. Having enough of his own teasing already, he leans back, groaning upon seeing the drenched material of your panties. “Holy shit baby girl, look at you. You're fucking soaked. Can't wait to taste you, princess.” He impatiently grips the fabric tugging it off of your frame, placing the material next to him on the bed, before laying flat on his front, settling himself between your legs, hooking a thumb in a fold pulling the skin to the side to expose you fully to his prying eyes. “Sunflower, you're so fucking beautiful, I can't fucking stand it.” Accentuating his words with a playful nip at the inside of your thigh, kissing upwards slowly, tongue dragging along your soft skin until he reaches where you need him most.

Leaning in, he swipes the wet muscle upwards to collect the wetness that was dripping from your center. Groaning, deep in his throat, at your taste. He pulls away just enough so that you could feel his breath against your cunt as he spoke. “Fuck you’re so delicious princess, and so nice and wet, tell me. Is this all for me, baby?”  Your head was thrown back already from such a simple touch, fingers already tangling in his styled hair as you affirmed his words with a hum. “Yes, Haji it's all for you. Only get this wet for you baby.” He lets out a deep chuckle at how cute you were being right now, allowing you to feel the vibrations of his laughter in your core. He lets a hand come up, finger prodding your entrance, collecting the wetness gathered there before sliding into the knuckle, curling the appendage upwards. His lips detach from your clit, tongue lolling out to flatten against the sensitive bundle of nerves. He was quick to add another finger, pumping the digits in and out of your heat slowly. His tongue lapped at your clit, occasionally tracing meaningless shapes along your clit adding to the sensations his tongue was providing. His other hand comes up to grab a handful of your ass, effectively pushing your hips down on his tongue.

Umemiya moaned into your cunt, his mouth quickly becoming insatiable. Fingers pumping relentlessly in and out of your tight heat, a mixture of your wetness and his saliva dripping down his chin and onto the mattress below. Umemiya was overtaken by your taste, tongue lapping at your clit desperately. Unable to will himself to stop he rolls his hips against the plush of the mattress. Needing some form of friction to alleviate the throbbing of his cock. Groaning against your cunt, your taste coupled with his rolling hips sent a shudder up his spine. The softness of the mattress through the tight material of his pants does nothing in comparison to having your tight cunt wrapped around him. But he needed this, needed to feel your hips buck desperately against his face as you chased your high. He knew it would be worth it when you came against his face with a scream of his name, fingers pulling roughly against his hair to ground yourself as he drank everything you had to offer. And it would definitely be worth the pair of underwear he just ruined.

Dividers by saradika-graphics. Writing & character banners by me. If you enjoyed it, consider taking a look at my masterlist: here. Special thanks to @eevees-hobbies for putting free use Ume in my head so bad that I needed to write it.

[bumblebeesfromvenus]

TF141 getting a boudoir photo album as a wedding gift ♡

─── ⋅ ∙ ∘ ☽ ༓ ☾ ∘ ⋅ ⋅ ────── ⋅ ∙ ∘ ☽ ༓ ☾ ∘ ⋅ ⋅ ───

A/N: THIS WAS SO FUN!!! Great, absolutely phenomal idea, dear anon. Simon's part is very sappy (I cried) which might be ooc for him?? Idk, that's how I write him/interpret his character! :) let me know who's your favorite 👀

~Fi 🐝

《Warnings》: NSFW content. proceed with caution. PiV, creampie, cunnilingus, Johnny's oral fixation (yes, that is a warning.)

It's still very sweet and lovey dovey with all of them bc I'm a certified sap <3

─── ⋅ ∙ ∘ ☽ ༓ ☾ ∘ ⋅ ⋅ ────── ⋅ ∙ ∘ ☽ ༓ ☾ ∘ ⋅ ⋅ ───

─── ⋅ ∙ ∘ ☽ ༓ ☾ ∘ ⋅ ⋅ ────── ⋅ ∙ ∘ ☽ ༓ ☾ ∘ ⋅ ⋅ ───

John would be grinning and smirking like a proper idiot when he lays his eyes on those delectable photos of you.

I imagine you had a date night at home, sipping wine on the couch and talking about your wedding that's supposed to take place in only 3 days. He's telling you how he can't wait to see you in your wedding dress and slip that ring onto your finger.

Sneaky bastard.

Be prepared to he called Mrs. Price the days leading up to the big day. John excuses it with:

"Need to practice, love. Don't wanna mess it up in front of anyone, eh?"

He knows what he's doing, you know what he's doing, all is well because if he only knew what that did to you. You're just talking, trying to get the nerves out now so you can go into your wedding with a clear mind and have a good time. When you tell him you have a gift for him, his eyebrows almost overshoot his forehead. Yeah, he knew that was a thing some people did, but he never gave it another thought.

In all honesty, marrying you was the best gift he could ever get. Which is why he feels slightly guilty that he doesn't have one for you (at least that's what you see, internally he's crushed) but that all goes out the window when you sit back down with a sleek beige photo album that has a little romantic quote on the front.

What he doesn't expect, however, is the angelic image of your plush body on full display, draped over a velvet chaise lounge with layered pearl necklaces hanging from your neck. This man is shell-shocked. If he wasn't frozen in place, he would've snapped the book shut.

"And what's this, doll, hm?"

His heart feels warm and fuzzy, thinking these are some lovely pictures of you together on holidays you went on, casual trips to the local pub or just some domestic shots you managed to sneak during his leave.

You can basically see the connections to his brain frying. His jaw slacks, and only after what feels like 10 minutes he regains his ability to think and close his mouth. John is sweating and his cock is rock hard as he flips through the remaining pages.

He shoots you the occasional glance while he's trying not to hyperventilate. You just sit back and savor your wine, trying to hide your laugh behind the rim of your glass. You'd expected a reaction, of course, but you didn't think you'd render the John Price speechless just from a few suggestive photographs of you.

But what absolutely breaks the camels back (or John's, in this case) is the last picture of you. You're kneeling, slightly leaned back and supported by your arms, with one of his Flannels covering your soft tits. That alone would've been enough to drive him crazy, but the sight of his old dogtags sitting against your sternum has him groaning out loud.

The only other thing covering you is a simple pair of lace panties, cupping the soft curve and rolls of your tummy so beautifully, John was ready to take a bit out of that damn page.

He nearly misses the inscription underneath the photo;

To my John; the love of my life, the man of my dreams,

I love you.

You hold my heart and you will forever.

May I be so lucky to find my place in the stars by your side when the time comes, so we'll never have to be apart.

With all my love,

Mrs. Price

And that does it. The album snaps shut and you barely have time to put down your wine glass before John is all over you, taking handfuls of you, whatever he can reach. With how fast he smashes his lips on yours, he nearly gives you whiplash.

He's tugging and pulling at your clothes as well as his own, not saying a thing, just hungrily swallowing every one of your sounds and giggled objections before he decides the couch is uncomfortable and he moves you to the bedroom. You're hoisted up without a warning and you cling to his neck. Immediately, worried words start spilling from your lips, remembering how he'd complained about a sore back just today;

"John, baby, your back-"

"I don't give a flying fuck about my back, love."

He's heaving and grunting like a fucking animal, he's downright feral. Despite all of that, you're still laid down gently on the bed, John would never, ever be reckless with you. But he needs to be inside you now, he'll actually lose his mind.

Usually, he'd spent hours between your thighs first, but he just can't wait. He's pounding you into another dimension but with such gentleness in his gestures, it makes your head spin.

He's holding your hand, breathing sweet praises into your ear despite him filling you to the brim. His urge to claim you goes haywire and he fills you with his cum multiple times before he's sane enough again.

He's covered in sweat and his beard is wet from your spit from all the sloppy kisses he gave you. John will definitely make it up to you and eat you out for as long as you want after.

He'll make a copy of one of the photos and take it with him when he's on deployment, just for the nights he's feeling lonely.

His wedding gift to you are the hickeys on your thighs and tummy and new sheets because you two tore the other ones to absolute shreds.

♥︎

Johnny would probably have a boudoir album for you, too. You get at least one shirtless pic a day, so a whole album of his body on display or in suggestive poses basically screams Johnny. He's already drooling the second he spots that book because he knows what it is and that he's in for a treat.

He's buzzing with excitment.

You never really send nudes for privacy reasons, and then for you to do something like this hit him like a truck in the best way possible. You're standing opposite from him behind the kitchen counter, and you look so nervous to him.

Cue his signature shit-eating grin. You tap your fingers on the dark blue album before having enough of your nerves and just sliding it over to him with a few mumbled words of what it is.

"Awe, for me, mo leannan?" He's a teasing bastard, and he chuckles when you huff and turn your head, obviously flustered. Johnny is legit licking his lips, but when he opens the book, his grin fades so fast.

He knew it would be good, but holy shit, this was so much better than he expected. His pupils dilate as he takes in each of the pictures of you, all of you, all your curves and bumps.

Everything he loves about you. God, you're such a woman, he thinks to himself. Some with lingerie, some without. He's full on drooling at this point, and the only reason why he roughly wipes it away with the back of his hand is to not get it on these sacred images.

He smirks at the picture of you in a tub, all soapy, with pebbled nipples. An obvious dig at his nickname, but, god, does your ass look amazing when it's covered in a thin layer of bubbles. He loves lathering you up in the shower and feeling you up while you're all wet and slippery.

"Good thing I can hold my breath, aye, hen? Might even try to set a new personal record." He's grinning and chuckling meanwhile you give him a sharp glare. You can't deny that the idea intrigues you, though.

But this, oh, this one was him swallowing thickly. It's you in very sheer panties (they're barely even underwear) and his name patch is sewn onto the front. Your hair looks so nice, so do your thighs, he doesn't know whether to look at your eyes or your tits. The button on his jeans is about to pop off from his throbbing boner.

He can't take his eyes off that 'MacTavish' patch that sits right on your lower belly, with the slight curve it has to it from your soft tummy.

Johnny has to hold himself back from gripping the book too hard. He wouldn't want to ruin it.

"Steamin' bloody Jesus, bonnie..."

The album is shut and tucked under his arm, and Johnny jumps over the counter to get his hands on you. Or his mouth, more like. He has a huge oral fixation, so he loves sucking and biting on every inch of your skin. You're pushed back into the bedroom, even though you end up on the floor, and the book is thrown onto the bed.

He rips your shirt up and sucks at your tits and nipples, groaning and moaning at the taste of your skin, all while he's rubbing his clothes cock against your leg. You end up on your hands and knees with one of Johnny's hands on your lowerback while his face is buried in your cunt.

He's eating you out like he's been starved for years, and his stubble is already starting to irritate the skin of your thighs and ass.

You'll have the worst case of beard burn in the morning, but how could you care about that when his tongue is so deep inside of you?

Remember when I said he'd have a boudoir album too? Yeah, now you're in between his legs, your back pressed to his chest with Johnny's album in your shaky hands. And the way your engagement ring catches the dim light of the room has your eyes rolling back.

And Jesus christ, Johnny looks fucking phenomal. You clench around his fingers hard, and he doesn't even have to pull his head from your neck to know what photo you're looking at.

He's smirking and grinning like the ceshire cat, knowing that the image of him in a kilt with no shirt one is gracing your field of vision right about now.

"Ah knew ye'd like tha' one, bonnie..."

Johnny's cooing in your ear, telling you to keep looking at the pictures while he's knuckle deep in your pussy. His bare dick is pressed against your ass and you can feel him rocking his hips to get off.

He's mumbling all kinds of gibberish into your ear, but one of the few things you can make out is "mo bhean"* which pushes you over the edge. You won't be leaving that bed anytime soon.

*(My wife)

♥︎

Kyle is such a sweetheart. I've said it before, and I will say it again, he's such a cutie pie!!! But that doesn't mean he can't or won't get nasty.

He'd offered to make lunch, which was delicious as always, and now you're chatting casually about your day at your dining table. Your fingers are laced together, and he's wearing the biggest smile because all he can think of is how he gets to marry you in just a few days.

He's over the moon. He can't wait to see you walk down the aisle, say your vows to each other, and overall have a great time with all your friends and family.

But the thing Kyle is looking forward the most is the honeymoon. He'll have you to himself for 2 whole weeks and he's stoked. He can't wait to treat you to nice things, love on you, but he's the most excited to fuck you as your husband.

He may look sweet and 'innocent' but this man can fuck, okay. And he fucks well. He knows every little spot that has you mewling and he's so good at using them for his gain.

Kyle will fuck you into the mattress in the Hotel you booked, he's already made up his mind about that, but he wants to absolutely melt your brain by being so loving whole doing it that you can't help but cry out for him.

He has heart eyes at this point, watching you talk about all that happened today and he only snaps out of his dream world when you present the deep red album to him with a sweet smile.

He's got a hunch of what it is so there's a hint of a smirk on his lips. Still, he almost gets whiplash when he opens it.

There's no easing into it, just straight up tits, ass and tummy. And let me tell you, Kyle is loving every second of it. It's no secret that he loves your chub, and that fact that it's extenuated so beautifully in every shot makes his heart and his cock happy. He's a very balanced man after all.

He comments on every single photo because he think it's endearing how you get all flustered and giggly from his compliments.

One picture that has him taking a second, though, is one where you have a lacy band tied around your thigh, with a little golden 'Kyle' charm hanging from it. He's all smiley and giddy, but he does try to discreet adjust his trousers because, holy shit, that's hot.

"Have you still got that, dove? Would love to see it tied around your pretty neck."

All you answer is that he'll have to be patient and wait till the wedding night to find out. He's laughing and teasing now, but just what till you get to the last page, Gazy.

And the way his smile just melts off his face is priceless. His gaze is flitting between you on the page and you sitting across from him with a shot eating grin. All the blood that drained from his face went straight to his dick.

Not only are you wearing a set of lingerie in his favorite color, but you've got his iconic pair of sunglasses hooked on the center of your bra. And that's not all either, his eyes travel upwards and his base cap is sat on your head and you've got that beautiful smile of yours on your face.

He makes an audible noise, one that indicates you took his breath away, when he takes in the whole picture.

"How in hell did you manage to snatch my hat and my glasses from right under my nose?!"

"Skilled hands, babe."

He's laughing at you breathlessly because he's still enarmoured by the sight of you.

And Kyle will absolutely whisk you away and fuck you stupid in front of your bedroom mirror while you're wearing his hat.

It makes him feral, seeing you like that. He's got both of his arms wrapped around your middle and he's panting into your shoulder. He does look up from time to time to see your blissed out face all while still wearing his cap.

He lets out a strained moan everytime he looks at you in the mirror and his hips stutter ever so slightly.

Kyle is just spewing jumbled words of love because he's genuinely so happy. You make him so happy.

He honestly can't wait to give you your wedding gift. It's a little booklet filled with poems or quotes that reminded him of you, or of how you make him feel. And it will make you cry when he reads them to you.

Definitely not because he'll be ballsdeep inside of you while doing so...

♥︎

Simon, Simon, Simon.... first of all, he's completely blindsided by this. And he hasn't got a fucking clue what's in that black book you hand him one night when you're cuddling in bed.

There's just a giant question mark above his head. When you tell him it's a wedding gift, he goes silent and just looks at that album in his hands.

He never really got gifts, which obviously changed since he's been with you, but he's still not used to it. You're so thoughtful. And sweet. And kind, and perfect and-

he turns his head to you when you softly call his name and if you notice the slight sheen of tears in his big brown eyes, you don't mention it. You just encourage him to open the book. And when he does, a small huff and gentle smile leave him because how are you so perfect?

Yes, all of the pictures are all filthy, but they're all radiating of love and softness, and he can't get over it. How are you so soft? Simon can't get enough of you. You mess up his emotions in ways he never thought possible, and he can't help that his heart starts beating twice as fast.

That you did this for him means more than you could ever fathom, and he'll treasure this album until his end. He absent mindedly reaches for your hand as he flips through the pages, trying to tell you thank you when his words fail him, like they did so many times before with you.

He comes across a shot of your neck, a black leather collared fasten around it with a little silver skull charm. It makes him smile just a bit. He knows just how much meaning is behind it.

That you love him. All of him, which includes the Ghost. In cursive, 'Riley' is written right above your heart, and he gives your hand a squeeze.

Although you love the Ghost because it's a part of him, you've shown him that it's not all he is. That Simon is enough. That he should give Simon a chance and that he's not incapable anymore, like he was as a little boy. Ghost is sort of a protector of Simon, something not many people know, that's why he wears the mask outside of duty too. To shield himself.

But as much as the Ghost's service is appreciated, Simon can handle himself now. The Ghost will forever be with him, but so will you, and you'll wipe his bloody hands with a smile. You've shown him that you accept Ghost just as much as you accept Simon, and that means the world to him.

He sniffles ever so quietly, and you lean your head against his shoulder, pressing a kiss to his cheek. He moves on, gently turning the pages, and as much as his heart is touched by your kind gesture of this album, that doesn't stop his cock from stirring. It's pictures of your naked form, after all.

He loves every single inch of you and he's told you and shown you so many times, kissed all your insecurities away and took your mind off any bad thoughts about yourself by fucking you so well and lovingly to the point of tears.

Never, in a million years, had he expected you to return these efforts. You kissed all his scars and held him softly when reassuring any doubts he had. That's when he truly and fully fell in love with you.

He can feel himself getting hotter with every passing image of your soft body bent in different positions and clad in delicate garments, if any.

The best for last, as always, and it's a picture of you kneeling in front of a mirror, completely nude. A picture of Simon in full military regalia is tapped to the mirror and it's surrounded by a bunch of hearts drawn on with lipstick.

His name is written under the picture in your handwriting, and he can see you holding a lipstick, in the middle of finishing another heart. His breath hitches just for a split second.

He swears he'll burn this photo into the back of his eyelids.

It shows him just how great and raw your love for him is, and it makes him all fuzzy on the inside. The text at the bottom finishes it all off, and he's actively holding back tears, overwhelmed by so many feelings for you.

Dear Husband,

We're flawed; but that's how I like us. You're you, and I'm me, and I wouldn't change it for the world. You've made me a better version of myself, and that makes me love you so much more. I'm so proud of you, Simmy.

Love,

Your wife

"Thank you, my love. Thank you for this, and for loving me and for everything you've done for me. I love you"

His words are soft and painfully honest as he gently sets the album aside. You've made him a better man. A better Simon. A happier Simon. A Simon that's slowly starting to heal.

It starts off with a soft kiss that slowly turns more desperate and needy to the point you're gently being pushed back onto the bed, your clothes are discarded, and Simon absolutely worships you. He kisses every inch he can reach and touching you in all the ways he knows you like.

And, yeah, Simon can be rough and fuck you stupid for hours, but tonight, he just wants to feel close to you, and make you feel as good as you make him feel by simply loving him. He's talking you through it, holding you while he makes sure you take every inch of his cock.

His strokes are slow and deep, just like his love for you, and he revels in the way your eyes roll back each time he slides into you to the hilt. The drag of his dick against your walls has you moaning and whining, and when he presses down on your pudgy lower belly to intensify the sensation, you're putty.

You two fuck the whole night like this, no matter how sensitive you are, you need to be close to each other.

And in the morning, he'll wake you up with his face buried in your pussy because he's out of his sappy mood and his only goal now is to absolutely ruin you.

♡

Bonus: I can totally see Simon giving his dad the biggest middle finger known to man all the way in hell when he's standing by the altar on your wedding day. It just screams: 'fuck you, stupidly bastard. Despite all you've done to me and my family, despite all that's happened, I've persevered. I've overcome it all. Look at me now.'

Right after he's smiling up at the sky, knowing that his mum and brother are watching and that they would've loved you just as much as he does <3

─── ⋅ ∙ ∘ ☽ ༓ ☾ ∘ ⋅ ⋅ ────── ⋅ ∙ ∘ ☽ ༓ ☾ ∘ ⋅ ⋅ ───

I hope you enjoyed!! I love all my boys <3

(If you find any typos, it's 2.am. give me a break pls)