RENÉE

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no gender-specific pronouns, y/n is a galaxy fairy, mediocre writing but the effort's there

the scarcity of valtor fics is so mind-boggling, i had to haul myself out of a year-long’s writer’s block to write this 😭 i hope my fellow valtor lovers enjoy this ♡

You were the latest member of the Winx, your powers linked to the cosmic forces and other higher deities like the very Dragon Fire and ethereal fairies, a profound ability he only realized that could help him tremendously in his pursuit for world domination. You had otherworldly features, like starry patterned freckles, glowing pupils the same color as your sclera. He is certain you’ve given people quite the scare if you stared too long because of this.

- His gaze would linger on you through the scrying orb, whether you were with the Winx or not. He’d notice the difference in how you look at your team, full of love and with a softness that could bend anything to your will, meanwhile you stared at him with a hatred that might as well rival Bloom’s. The dichotomy intrigues him greatly. Could he get you to stare at him like he hung the stars in your galaxies?

- He starts to appear in places where you and the Winx happen to be to stir up some trouble, a careless and uncharacteristic move.

- Valtor makes sure to leave the strongest spells for your friends and watch you cry out to them. There is that shift in your eyes, the look of concern and worry for your fallen friends. Just as he perceives it , it disappears in the blink of an eye when your focus is on him.

- Although not a masochist, he enjoys eliciting strong reactions out of you. You always try to come off as calm and regal yet that crumbles around him. It fills him with pride.

- He’d let you land hits on him and bait you into thinking you have defeated him, only to take you down once you let your guard down.

- At times, he disguises himself as a fawn and approaches you whenever you indulged in your alone time in the middle of the forest just in front of Lake Roccaluce. After all, fitting in an already established friend group was tricky.

- He learns about your interests through that form and later uses them to get to you, to appear more likable.

- Valtor isn’t one to easily get jealous. You are an enthralling fairy, to the extent of drawing in the feared sorcerer such as himself with your looks and steadfast personality. However, if any of your admirers were to take it far with their feelings for you, they were bound to mysteriously fall off the face of Magix

- The sorcerer has a fragment of respect for your privacy by refusing to spy on you whilst you take a shower. It’s for both his and your sakes, as the mere thought of seeing you with droplets of water trickling down your nude form is enough to have a tent growing in his pants. That’s not to say he doesn’t enjoy watching you in every other aspect—while you eat, sleep.

- Valtor has no need to rush things, if anything he likes the tension and the build-up as he orchestrates a plan on how to get you by his side. He is similar to you in the sense that once he sets his eyes on something he refuses to let go.

- His blueprint goes rather smoothly as he recognizes your thirst for knowledge beyond the use of light magic. He’s seen your eyes linger too long on the dark magic books from the libraries you’d visit in your home planet, the e-books which covered dark arts and sorcery. This satisfying observation led him to believe that a catalyst had to be put in place for him to be yours.

- He begins to plant seeds of doubt in the soil of your mind, getting you alone first.

“Those books you are ashamed of reading, I have plentiful in my collection. There is no need to be ashamed, curiosity is natural it’s how our brains develop.”

“After all, what is light without darkness?” He circles you like a prey. His words are reassuring, yet you are unwilling.

- He brings you the books nevertheless, keeping his distance. You refuse to take them, but they land on your desk disguised as harmless notebooks on light magic.

- In the dead of night, you flip through the pages of the books until the urge to apply what you have learned becomes unbearable. He lurks, blending in the shadows of the forest, watching the dark tendrils of magic cling onto your skin in ways that make you shiver and shout with fright.

- You are spooked out of your mind, not caring that the sorcerer strokes your hair and holds you as you cling onto him, your form trembling and tears pricking in your eyes. He mutters sweet nothings in your ear and for once, you bask in them. He could reason with your fright, the girls couldn’t. They’d tell you off—become wary of your presence and try to convince you to get rid of the books.

“This has to be a secret. There is no such thing as a fairy learning the tunes in which a sorcerer dances to. The thought of it is simply asinine to single-minded beings. I’m the only one who does not have such silly ‘black-and-white’ views. I’m not asking you to trust me, but you may seek comfort in me once in a while when no eyes are on you.” His hand brushes your hair and you stare at him, eyebrows furrowed and the hesitation swirling in your irisless depths.

tags: bonten!senju, sapphic!reader, friends with benefits-situation, can this be classified as angst? not sure, just a little writing practice nothing too serious

“Don’t make a scene, Y/N,” Senju pushes you out of the VIP room. Her grip is firm, the vein in her hand as no more prominent than the one in her neck.

Your drunken self staggers beside her, dress a rumpled mess and your face stained with mascara-ink tears. You had barged into the exclusive room wailing about how mean Senju was for ghosting you and taking your feelings for her for granted.

She finds the bathroom and pins you against the tiled wall, her emerald eyes blazing with anger. “What the hell were you thinking barging in while I was with the higher ups? I never took you as a damn drunkard.”

“And I didn’t think you were such a heartless bitch!” You shoot back, glaring at her through inky eyes. Your sharp yet slurred words don’t surprise her as she pinches her nose bridge with a sigh.

“I thought I made it clear that-“

“You don’t want me anymore? I get it.” You cut in, sniffling

“Do you? Do you really?” She moves closer to your face and you feel a sense of unease. “ You just decided to take a shit on my reputation, to top it off you kick one of the boss’s bodyguards in the balls?” She narrows her eyes into slits. “If I hadn’t intervened, your body would have been floating in Shibuya River by tomorrow.”

You scoff, shaking your head. “All you care about now is your reputation and Bonten. Why couldn’t it ever just be me and you?”

“Oh boy here we go…” Senju sighs in exasperation. You continue nonetheless, the alcohol giving you one hell of a confidence boost.

“Like old times! You never wanted to be involved in this kinda stuff anyway yet here you are! Is it because of-“

She grabs your cheeks, smushing them with her lacquered fingers. It feels like claws sinking into your flesh.

“I’ve let you run your mouth for a while now. Don’t you dare mention his name.” She pressed her knee between your thighs, her breath fanning against your nose and lips.

You gulp, stuck between not wanting to press her on and doing just that.

“Life doesn’t always go the way you want it. I know that.” She pokes at your forehead. “That fantasy you live in your head? Get out of it.”

Senju shoves you against the tiled wall and your back aches. You whine out her name, reaching out to hold her but she dodges your advances but grabs your wrist to keep you from falling.

She fishes out her phone and calls an Uber, tightening your grasp on you as you struggle to break free.

Eventually she carries you over her shoulder like it’s nothing, her muscles tensing underneath her suit jacket. You kick and fuss but it doesn’t matter when the Uber arrives she practically throws you into the backseat.

She shut the door just as you were about to recover from the dizzying impact. “Lose my number.” She says to you, then turns to the driver and gives him the name of a hotel she owns for you to stay in.

“My bodyguard will take you to your room under an alias. Lay low for a while. I’ll get rid of all the data about you.” She says in a hushed tone. For a moment, you swear her eyes soften, but she turns to walk away before you can properly decipher her gaze.

Tags: Fem/sukeban!reader, The relationship between Shin and the reader can be interpreted as platonic or romantic, childhood friends/rivals, fluff, mentions of injury and blood, Baji and the reader are related.

He could already hear the nagging voices of his friends. “There’s no way you can talk it out, Shin. This is the real world.”

He knew that, of course. But some issues could be resolved without violence, at least that was Shinichiro’s perspective. A dangerous one, unsuitable for a world filled with legends he looks up to.

Though his methods were unconventional, people respected him, while others thought otherwise. A couple were jealous of the metaphorical pull he had on others. He was one to turn a foe into an ally without using his fists in a world where violence was the only language, he was viewed as both an alien and a king for it. That did not mean he wouldn’t use his fists when it came to that, he simply had an awful timing for putting them to good use.

Who would have thought a feared gang like Blood Vipers had been stalking him in the shadows of dusk, waiting for him to be left alone long enough to sink their claws into his back? He was caught by surprise, to say the least.

Now he roamed the streets with a limp, his hand holding the side of his stomach where he had gotten stabbed. To make matters worse, the downpour seemed to be getting heavier. More aggressive, as if to berate him for not being strong enough. He needed to find shelter fast, rainwater and raw wounds didn’t mix well.

“…oh look, your wounds are infected. I keep on telling you! Rain and open wounds are like oil and water!”

At that moment, your sweet voice filled his eardrums, momentarily distracting him from the ache in his wounds and his swollen black eye, all the while wishing you were here. Your medical knowledge was greatly needed.

Y/N…I wonder if they’re awake right now… He thought. He’d have to find that out for himself. His slackened steps quickened as he took a route to your apartment. If he were to pass out, might as well do it at your place.

His vision began to blur at the edges just as your apartment came into view. The rain came to a halt, leaving a soothing cool scent of petrichor. He tripped on something but didn’t bother taking a moment to recover. His free hand reached out for his flip phone from the pocket of his baggy pants, a bit surprised to still have it on him.

Flipping it open, he scrolled through his rather short contact list. Once your name came up, he clicked on the telephone icon and then brought it up to his right ear.

It rang faintly in his ear, his focus more on keeping himself balanced rather than whether you would pick up or not. Honestly, he was fine just lying in front of your apartment door. It wouldn’t be fair to you and your family, but if he died from blood loss he’d rather die in front of you than his family members.

With the way you cared for your loved ones, he wouldn’t question if you would be able to find a way to bring him back to life. But was he that important to you to the point you’d waste time figuring out how to resuscitate him? He chuckled, closing his eyes for a moment, leaning his body against the doorframe. Fat chance.

“The hell do you want? It’s two in the morning.”

He could have sworn his heart stopped beating for a split second when he heard the sound of your voice. He opened his mouth to say something but found it difficult to breathe at that moment and ended up sputtering and coughing.

“Jesus, you sound terrible–“

“Y/N.” He spoke sharply, not out of annoyance or to be rude. “I’m outside…your apartment.”

You didn’t quite believe him at first. “That the best you can do? Some prank caller you are.”

You only received a groan in response. Yet you found yourself ambling out of your room, towards the front door to check. You were at least 90% sure he was not out there. Your hand wrapped around the door handle. You had nothing better to do so might as well indulge in his stupid pranks.

You unlocked the door slowly pushing it open to find a tall figure leaning against the door frame, his breathing sounding shallow and his skin looking paler than usual. His hair had been ruffled up as if he had been jumped. Your eyes trailed down to his bloodied hand holding the side of his stomach and your heart dropped.

“Hey, Y/N.” He still tried to maintain an air of nonchalance. Like he wasn’t bleeding out.

What an idiot. You thought, though, on the outside, you just let out a sharp exhale and helped him inside without saying a word.

Shinichiro limped his way toward your living room and sat down, his tense body relaxing into the plush texture of the sofa.

“Is Miss Baji awake?” He asked, “I don’t mean to cause her any trouble.”

“I’m sure you don’t.” Your tone dripped with sarcasm, earning a pained chuckle from him as you walked away from him, jogging a little when he was out of sight.

You and Shinichiro were from different gangs, gangs that often brawled with one another. You and he also happened to be “childhood acquaintances”, in your words, since the universe decided to make Keisuke and his brother, Manjiro to be best of fucking friends, which meant seeing him at awkward family gatherings, even at the much intimate events, like his parents’ death anniversaries.

Those things did little to soften their rivalry. Nowadays, Black Dragon is aiming for the top, while your gang, Jade Cobra, focused more on women-based activities like self-defense classes and organizing protests. Sure you weren’t garnering a lot of attention at a steady pace like his gang, but you didn’t mind at all. Attention only brought trouble.

You returned with a first aid kit and set it down on the coffee table, going on your knees. “Mum’s on a business trip. It’s just me and that brat.”

You lifted your head slightly to look at him only to find him staring at you already. He averted his gaze, his pompadour losing its definition and falling tousled into his face.

“Let me see your wounds,” You urged, taking out the proper medical instruments.

He heeded your words, brushing back his hair to reveal his swollen black eye and bruised lip, as well as some scratches all over his face.

“Jesus, fuck…” You said under your breath. You took a moment to think to yourself. What could he have done to elicit an aggressive beating? Sure, he could be annoying but this was crazy.

“I also might have been stabbed a teeny-tiny bit,” He admitted, laughing nervously.

Your eyes returned to the area of his stomach he was holding when you saw him outside. You had a feeling as well.

“Do you remember what you were stabbed with?” You asked, your eyes still locked on his wound. “If it was with something rusty and dirty, you might be prone to getting a nasty infection.”

You thought to start with his stab wound and turned around to the first aid, bringing out some bandages and antiseptic, ignoring the other supplies left lying on the table.

“I’m not- I don’t think I remem–“

“Take your shirt off.” You cut in. It was stupid to question him knowing he probably lost a lot of blood, but your curiosity got the better of things. He had been so busy with his gang, coupled with his family life. He only came occasionally to drop Emma off at her self-defense class.

Shinichiro complied, his hands trembling as he lifted his shirt over his head and pulled it off from his arms. His breathing grew heavy as pain enveloped his stomach, his eyes closed tight and his face contorted in discomfort. Stretching his arms overhead caused strain to his wound, making a fresh flow of blood pour out from it.

The bandages fell from your grasp as your hands moved to cup his cheeks the moment you heard his pained groans.

“Easy now,” You soothed. “Panicking will only make it worse.”

You stroked his hair, your fingers running through the damp strands. You did so in a slow manner so he focused his attention on the sensation rather than his wound.

Now that you had a closer look at the injury, it wasn’t too deep but not shallow enough to be comfortable leaving it unattended any longer, not when it caused him terrible pain.

You reached out to get the forceps to pick up the cotton ball. Your touch seemed to comfort him, judging from how his eyes fluttered shut, so you chose to pick up the cotton ball yourself rather than using the cool metal.

You withdrew your hand to pour the antiseptic onto the ball to start dressing the wound. Shallow breathing and the light pitter-patter of oncoming rain filled the dim living room as questions flooded into your head.

You adjusted your position to sit beside him on the sofa. Might as well ask him, to take his mind off of his injuries. “What happened? Getting involved in fights really early in the morning…I’d expect that from Wakasa but from you?”

With the cotton ball, you pressed onto the wound gently as you started cleaning up the blood. When he hissed in pain, you offered him your hand to hold onto.

“You’re being awfully nice to me, don’t you think?” He dodged the question. You could hear a smile in his voice.

You didn’t respond. What could you say to that? You preferred showing your affection for the people you care about through actions.

People I care about… You glossed over the thought for a moment.

Shinichiro, on the other hand, took your silence as you saying ‘If you didn’t answer my question, why should I?’

With a sigh, he narrated what had happened, with occasional grunts and a tightened grip on your hand. He made mention of Blood Vipers and your heart stopped for a second. He had accidentally picked a fight with the leader of the gang and got tracked down by the psycho.

By the time he finished his little story, you were wrapping the bandages around his wound.

“You did what!?” You nagged, your grip on the bandage tightening a little more than he was comfortable with.

“I know you’re upset but there’s no need to take it out on me!” His voice strained and his hands moved to shield his face from your expected wrath. It had been a while since he’d seen you get angry and it never excluded using your fists in some creative way.

The grasp on the bandages reminded him of the time you graced him with a clean wedgie because he’d asked out a member of your gang, and she got so scared that she confided in you about a certain someone with a sense of style as horrid as his hair.

Instead you frowned and resumed wrapping up the bandages. “How could you be so reckless? Blood Vipers don’t joke around. They’ll stop at nothing until you’re incapacitated.” You sat down on your knees, reaching out for some ointment.

“That’s just how things work in that gang, ‘specially with how deranged the leader is…” You mumbled the last part, squeezing a generous amount onto your fingertips.

Shinichiro tensed at the growing proximity between you, as your coated fingers glided across his scratches leaving a cool sensation, thanks to the ointment.

“Y…you seem to know quite a lot about them,” He pointed out, trying not to meet your intense gaze.

“One thing I don’t understand, why’d you come here in particular?” You asked, squishing his cheeks with your fingers as you rubbed the ointment into his skin.

“Did you just so happen to get beat up close by? There’s a hospital a couple of blocks before the entry to my street, dumbass. You could have gone there to get proper medical care.”

He figured you’d ask, but his excuse was as lame as his heart which raced the moment he got a whiff of your scent and a closer look at your lips. They looked soft, he wondered if you indulged in those lip care routines, was that why they looked so…

“Hospitals freak me out.” He simply said, averting his gaze. It was no use, his eyes trailed back to you. “Besides, you could say I wanted to try my luck – see if the universe got my back.”

You gave him a look. “Well, she clearly doesn’t if you got yourself jumped out of nowhere and almost died from a possible infection.” You rose to your feet, starting to put the first aid tools back in the kit.

“What if I hadn’t answered then? You’d have just passed out in front of my apartment?” You scoffed, shaking your head.

“No. No, that’s not it at all.” He stood up as well, his heart thumping in his ears. He didn’t mean to upset you.

“I guess I just trust my body with someone special.”

“Sit your ass back down. You shouldn’t be moving around, you’re still injured.” You reminded him, turning to face him and guided him back to sit.

He stared up at you, his piercing gaze searching yours.

“Look, I’m not upset. There’s no real reason for me to care anyway.” You sputtered a laugh to hide the heat of embarrassment creeping into your cheeks.

“There isn’t?” His voice was laced with confusion. You could sense what his next words would be.

Then why did you patch me up?

“Of course there isn’t! It’s just, Emma will be devastated if you decided to die in a shitty way.” You mumbled, not believing your lie for a second.

Neither did Shinichiro, because he bursted out into a small fit of laughter.

“Oh really?” He teased, getting comfortable where he sat. He spread his arm over the head of the sofa and tilted his head slightly to study you. The way you cleared your throat and fiddled with the first aid kit like it was the most interesting thing in the world, besides an injured delinquent.

“She’s a sweet girl. Very… agile.” You continued awkwardly. “She wouldn’t want to get involved in gangs if her shitty brother was consecutively getting his ass beat.”

“Using that logic, it doesn’t make sense that she’s taking lessons from you since you’ve had your fist on my jaw once, or twice.”

“She…doesn’t need to know that, and I don’t beat people up unless they deserve it.”

“Right…” He chuckled, his hand holding onto his stomach as he adjusted his position on the sofa. His teasing smile faltered and got replaced with something more apologetic. “I really didn’t mean to give you a scare.”

“It’s fine, just be careful out there. Suit yourself up if you must, you’re gonna end up giving yourself facial damage.” You stopped playing with the first aid and returned it back to the cupboard.

You could hear one of his breathy laughs from the kitchen. It reminded you of when he’d loiter around with his friends, laughing at something they said without a care in the world and then he’d spot you. The way his face lit up and how he’d waved enthusiastically. Your name would roll off his tongue like he was bound to taste honey simply from saying it.

The rumbling sound of thunder signaled nothing but bad weather. You suggested that he stay over for a while.

“Unless you feel like having a dirty shower outside, you’re more than free to do just that. I’m not chasing you out of here, just so you know.” You informed, tossing a blanket over his legs.

He smiled nervously. “Thanks, wasn’t really planning on leaving. I won’t make it past your street, anyway.”

“There’s apple juice in the fridge, but you really should get some rest.” You greeted him goodnight and headed to your room.

You lay awake in bed, eyes glued to the ceiling as your mind wandered. As much as you tried to plunge your feelings of concern down the drain, you couldn’t help but worry for Shinichiro’s safety. You never told him, because you did not feel the need to, but you and Blood Vipers had formed an alliance in exchange for protection and just enough to help those who cannot help themselves.

On a good day, you would not be caught dead working with an awful gang, but after your father walked out on you, your mother was working hard, barely home anymore. You needed money to keep the classes going and to make meals for the homeless.

You turned over to the side, the guilt of Shinichiro’s injuries somehow being your fault eating you up from the inside out. Your hands balled up into fists holding onto the sheets tightly. You closed your eyes, forcing yourself to sleep to escape from it all. Perhaps you could talk it out with the leader, after all the condition of your deal was that loved ones were off-limits.

Strums of Seduction.

Dedicated to my mutual on TikTok, she knows who she is <3

Tags: Kazutora is a flirt, you go viral lol, gender neutral reader, reader is whipped for Kazutora and honestly that's so real, celebrity au, alternate timeline.

Kazutora first saw you at one of his concerts, mesmerised as you danced to the practised strumming of his electric guitar. What set you apart was that you didn't have your cell phone out, choosing simply to bask in the moment of it all. It was something he appreciated, since nowadays people have become attached to their phones.

Your reaction to him smiling at you was something that caused him to laugh a little though it couldn't be heard over the loud voices of the crowd. As the intro for the next song rolled in, he pulled Atsushi, the lead singer, aside just before he sang their third song.

“Sorry to delay you all, how ‘bout we have one of our fans come on stage?” He smirked at the cheerful response from his fans. “Let's have ‘em dance with us.”

The drummer blushed as some of his fans loudly declared wanting to dance around him, one even holding up a sign that asked for his hand in marriage.

“Is that a good idea?” Atsushi asked, a sheepish grin plastered across his face.

“C'mon man…” Kazutora nudged his arm. “You don't wanna say no to them, do you? I get it, I see so many pretty faces in the crowd I’m starting to get shy now.”

He let out a satisfied hum as his words elicited lovestruck squeals from his fans, both male and female.

Sauntering towards the edge of the podium, eager eyes watched as he extended his hand towards you to take.

You felt yourself shiver like a leaf, mouth agape and eyes never leaving Kazutora’s flawless face. As silly as it sounded, his beauty drew you in like a moth to a flame, the voices around you minimised as though you both solely existed in that moment. Slowly, you placed your hand in his and he hoisted you onto the podium.

Your legs nearly gave out as you drank in the sight of the band - Souya was behind the drums, his vibrant cerulean curls just as lush as in the photos. The lead singer, Atsushi, in his captivating yet unconventional mohawk style and a smile on his face as he interacted with fans.

Then, your attention fixed on the main singer, who had his hand clasped in yours.

“You okay?” He asked. letting go of your hand and bringing you back to reality.

You simply nodded, not wanting to embarrass yourself by squeaking out a response that sounded similar to a dying cat.

He laughed, noticing your tense posture and lightly patted your shoulder. “Relax, will ya?” He leaned closer, still leaving some space between you so you are not uncomfortable. He made sure to lower his microphone so his words could be heard by you only, to the disappointment of his inquisitive fans.

“You were dancing your ass off moments ago, what happened to that fire, hm?”

You bit your inner cheek so hard it drew blood. You thought it had been your mind playing tricks on you, but he noticed you. Kazutora fucking Hanemiya had seen you dancing like an idiot.

Heat creeped up into your cheeks. He didn't seem to be weirded out by it, so that was a good thing.

“It's not the same..” You murmured.

He quirked a brow just as Atsushi hyped up the crowd. It was a furtive signal that indicated that the band would soon start playing.

Kazutora placed a hand on your shoulder. “Just let loose. Let the music guide you, as they say.” He followed it up by a wink.

You gave him a half nod, watching as he adjusted his electric guitar.

Right. Just don't make a fool out of yourself, again. You told yourself as you wiped your clammy palms on your denims.

When you got off stage, your legs felt like jello and eyes blown wide in fascination. You didn't even budge as one of your friends snaked her arm around you and the other screamed her lungs out because you had your once-in-a-billion moment with the sought-after celebrity.

After that concert, the band got even more popular and scoring concert tickets was like playing the lottery game. You'd observe with envy as fans interacted with the band members during fan signs and concerts, fortunately you were grateful you got to have a viral moment with Kazutora Hanemiya, even with the death threats sent to you from fans, anons and a couple of middle-aged women, you felt content.

As time passed, you soon came to realise that you might not attend another concert. With having to tackle work and school, it was damn near impossible to find the time to go out to have fun, talkless of concerts.

At 9 PM on a Friday night, you finished mopping the floors of the café eager to close up the shop and head on home basking in the momentary freedom the weekend gave you before heading on back to work on Sunday.

The bell rang, indicating that a customer was here. You let out an audible grumble and turned around with the fakest customer-service grin you could muster up for the umpteenth time, except you were at your breaking point.

The customer took off his hoodie and you were blessed with the opportunity to stare into his beautiful gold eyes and that tiger tattoo you spotted despite his neck being concealed for the most part.

“I'm sorry, are you about to close for the night?” The familiar timbre in his smooth voice sounded nice in your ears. Still, you were irritated, whether there happened to be a hottie or not.

“Yeah, it's a shame,” You replied, with feign disappointment.

A nervous chuckle fell from his lips as he rubbed his nape. “I figured.” He fished out his phone to check the time. “I mean, it's pretty late already. The moment he took out his phone, your eyes got fixated on the Swastika symbol against his clear phone case, not only that but his onyx fingernails under the lighting.

Could it be or were you going crazy from lack of adequate sleep?

He could feel you staring at him, so he met your gaze and a flash of recognition dawned on his face. “Wait… it's you.”

You frowned. What the hell? “You know me?”

He nodded, a broad grin spreading on his face. “Hell yeah I do!” He laughed softly. “Dancing-machine?”

Your eyes widened as he uttered the name of the hashtag under your viral video. Heat instantly flooded your cheeks as you cleared your throat.

“Do you remember me? Don't tell me you have forgotten my face already,” He teased, putting his phone back in his pocket.

“How could I forget?” You fiddled with your mop, laughing sheepishly. “I should be asking you that question, I mean what.”

“I have a pretty solid memory.” He rubbed his chin, thinking for a moment. “L/N wasn't it?”

Your heart fluttered. You knew that he was great at memory games as proven in one of the moments he had to memorise cards on a variety show, but it made you feel touched.

“Wow…” Another laugh fell from your lips. “It's been a while. How the hell did you not forget?”

He gave a noncommittal shrug. “I never forget my fans. Especially the pretty ones.”

You stiffened, unsure of how to respond or react. “Oh um…that's thoughtful of you?”

You could sense the awkward tension threatening to consume the atmosphere and so you quickly changed the subject.

“Uh, how about you take a seat?” You offered, taking down the chairs on the freshly waxed floors.

“What?” He looked confused.

“You wanted to order something, right?”

“Oh no I couldn't…” He watched you, feeling abashed as he observed you pull out a chair for him.

“I insist, now sit down and let me take your order,” You commanded.

He gave you a rare nervous smile. “You really don't have to.”

“Yes I do. I mean, no one's here and you can eat without fangirls flocking to you for your autograph.”

“You're still here though.”

You clicked your tongue playfully. “I am a grown ass, I don't have time to be squealing over celebrities,” You spoke coolly and walked away, muttering about getting the menu for him, even though internally you were freaking the fuck out. What were the odds of seeing your favourite celebrity at your workplace?

You returned, placing it before him on the table. “Take your time.”

You couldn't help but sneak glances as he skimmed through the options. It was as though his face had this magnetic energy that pulled your eyes in, or maybe he was just too handsome for your weak heart.

He pressed his lips together, hesitating for a moment. “Uh… If it ain’t much of a hassle, how about soufflé pancakes?”

You relaxed a little when he chose the less tedious option. “Of course. Want anything to drink?”

“Just water.” He smiled at you.

His eyes subtly roamed your form as you took the menu from him and made your way to the kitchen.

As you stirred the batter, you couldn't help but feel his eyes on you. You did a taste test, finding an opportunity to look at him from the peripheral of your vision; He leaned back to get a better view of you from the kitchen.

You weren't exactly looking your best, after an eight-hour shift you were bound to look unkempt. You thought to yourself about what it was that could be interesting enough about your appearance to have him stare at you.

He's just hungry. Focus on the damn pancake, broke ass bitch. You berated yourself in your head as you poured the gooey mix in the pan and set to frying.

Minutes later, you had a tray of soufflé pancakes with a drizzle of whipped cream and maple syrup. Sliced strawberries surrounded the plate rather neatly to Kazutora's amusement.

“Strawberries weren't on the menu.” He raised a questioning.

“I can get rid of them if you'd like,” You suggested.

He shook his head. “No way. I love strawberries. It was just an observation.”

You let out a hum, feeling your muscles ache as you placed his order before him and made to go back to the kitchen.

“Hey uh on second thought, how about I just take this home instead?”

You turned to look at him. There wasn't any sign of dissatisfaction on his charming face but it unnerved you the more, knowing how two-faced celebrities could be.

You cleared your throat and muttered a ‘Sure’, approaching his table to take his plate to get it ready for takeaway. You silently wondered why he chose to take it home; you didn't mind staying behind just for him even as late as the night was getting.

Handing the takeaway bag to him, he mumbled a ‘Thank you’ as he looked at his phone. He raised his head to meet your gaze. “You accept transfers too, right?”

You recited the café's account details while he typed it down with his nimble thumbs. He showed you proof that he made the transaction and you nodded slightly, a friendly smile spread across your face.

“Thank you for coming,” You said, moving to put up the chairs back on the table.

“Thank you for your time.” He shot back, letting out a brief chuckle.

Tension threatened to invade the room as it fell into silence. You were too exhausted to respond, but not saying anything would be seen as rude so you hummed to let him know that you acknowledged his words.

“Say, you think I can have your number?” He asked, as if he was in a hurry. “I have practice in a few so I wanna make it quick, in case I don't see you again.”

In that moment your heart dropped into your ass. You stared at him wide-eyed and expectant for him to declare his words as a joke. Instead he stared back at you, patiently smiling.

“I…”

“You know what, I'll just write it down.” He turned his back on you, dipping his hand into his tote bag to get out a journal and a pen. With a couple of hurried flips, he tore out a quarter of a page. He slid the cap of his pen between his teeth and scribbled his digits on it, while he did so you just stared like a fool, hands clasped in front of your apron.

He left it on the table, packing up his stuff in his bag and draped it over his shoulder whilst he held his order in his right grasp.

“Make sure you text me when you find the time!” He waved at you then turned around to pull up his hoodie as he walked off into the night.

Your hand trembled as you held the piece of paper, gawking at the series of numbers. A wave of excitement washed over you followed by an inhumane scream, the exhaustion suddenly leaving your entire body as you replayed what just happened in your head.

___________________________________________

You and Kazutora’s friendship had begun to grow despite both of your hectic schedules and occasionally having to adapt to the different time zones whenever he went on tour. The more you talked to him, the more you realised that he was just like any other person but more talented.

You had managed to keep it a secret to your friends about befriending the popular lead guitarist. After all it had nothing to do with them.

“They can be a handful at times.” You sighed, chopping up vegetables unevenly that struck mild concern from the man on the phone. You had gotten into a squabble with your two friends recently and you couldn't be bothered to deal with their shit when you had so much on your plate.

“Hey,  you must have been acting a certain way for them to tease you like that.”

You halted your actions, looking at him with an accusatory gaze. “Are you taking their side?”

“No, no,” Kazutora said, sensing your growing irritation. You had been like this for a couple of days: quick to annoy, harder to reason with.

“It's just, you've been cranky lately,” He pointed out tentatively.

“I'm just tired,” You defended.

“You said that last time.” He adjusted his phone position, bringing the device closer to his face.

“I'm telling the truth.” You chopped the veggies with more aggression than intended.

“I didn't say you were lying.” He exasperated.

You were over it. As dashing as he was, keeping this back and forth going would end in you lashing out on him. And so, you reached out about to hang up.

“So…” He drawled awkwardly “...I hope this isn't shitty timing but I was wondering if you could meet up with me one of these days,” He suggested, rubbing his nape. “I really need your opinion on something.”

You gave him a look, your index finger grazing lightly against the re d telephone icon. “This isn't some sort of trap right?”

“What?” He choked out.

“Forget it.” You put the knife down and let out a long sigh, hands gripping the sides of the kitchen counter. You needed a break, a break from all the crap going on in your life.

“I’ll look into my schedule and see if I can fit you in.” You mustered up the strength to faintly smile at him on your screen. “I have to go now.”

“Okay but don't forget. It's really important.” He emphasized just as you hung up.

Days later, you texted him informing him that you would be free on a weekend, and he arranged for a taxi to come pick you up despite your complaints.

He stood outside in all his glory beside a motorcycle you assumed was his, dressed in a loose tee and black cargo pants. He noticed you almost immediately and jogged up to meet you.

He took off his mask to greet you with an attractive smile. “You have no idea how happy I am to see you.” He gave you a side hug which you leaned into.

As he led you into the building, you spotted the electric guitar reposed on the concrete floor and the balls of crumpled paper beside the culpable notebook sprawled open before his feet. Colourful graffiti spread across the unpainted walls, rays of sunlight acted as the only light source in the bleak surroundings except the slightly opened door on the verge of collapse.

“Sorry, it's a bit of a mess.” He laughed nervously, side stepping the empty boxes of ramen and coffee cups

“I was here all night.”

You assured him that it was fine as you sat down on the worn-out couch. Inviting you here meant he trusted you enough to see him like this, it made your heart flutter.

“My dormitory can be a real mess. Worse than this, trust me.” You took off your bag, placing it on a table as you sat on the low chair. “You said you were here all night? You mean you slept here?”

He shook his head. “Nah. I just worked on the finishing touches of the song before I send it to my producer.”

The news regarding the anonymous release date of their band’s 2nd album circulated rather quickly and now here you are, blessed with the opportunity to be a first listener. His first listener.

“Is this where you practise?” You asked, admiring the oddly cosiness of the hangout spot, undeterred by the fading graffiti and holes in the ceiling. “Your singing and songwriting?”

“Yeah, it used to be a spot where me and the guys would come to rehearse after school. That was years ago though, now it's more of a place I come to when I wanna clear my head,” He explained, his voice detached and slightly muffled because of the pick between his teeth.

You bit your bottom lip, watching closely as he pulled the strap of the electric guitar over his head so the instrument stayed poised against his stomach.

“I was working on the finishing touches of a song and I wanted you to be my first listener.” His hesitant gaze met yours. “Is that okay?”

“Well I, I can't say that I’m not flattered that your reached out to me,” You stated. “Though I can't help but think that you're taking advantage of the fact that I'm a fan of you guys, your biggest fan even but you see I’m not too fond of spoilers, Kazu.”

“I mean… if you told me that I would have understand.” He scratched his nape, feeling flustered that you seemed unenthused to hear his new song. “I just need your opinion on it that's all.”

“I'm just kidding. I didn't know a man like you still had it in you to blush.” You laughed softly. “You're singing the entire song?”

He shook his head. “Just my part and the bridge. Maybe a bit of the chorus.”

“Oh, so half of the song?” You asked in a deadpan tone. The group's line distribution barely changed. As the main vocalist, Kazutora got most of the lines. After his part, which included the bridge (or sometimes Atsushi Sendo would sing it instead) most of the time, the song was basically over.

“Basically.” He chuckled, appreciating your subtle humour.

“Alright.” You readjusted your position on the chair. “The floor's yours.”

You leaned forward just a bit with a growing smile on your face as he began to sing the intro, heartfelt Japanese rhymes flowing smoothly out of his lips. His fingers danced effortlessly across the strings, coaxing out a catchiness which you know would be stuck in your head for days.

His eyes locked on you, softening slightly. You had seen him pour his heart out with some of the few ballads the group had written. He never failed to move the hearts of many fans with the raw emotions he conveyed in his tone, like he related to the songs. You knew he did, back then and now.

You were certain you looked like a mesmerised idiot but you didn't care. You brought your legs to your chest, hugging them, remaining transfixed on his angelic vocals. If this was the demo, she couldn't imagine how heavenly the master recording would be like

As he neared the end of the song he drew closer to you, his gaze piercing. It made you squirm a little and fight back the blush threatening to spread across your face. It appeared like the rest of the world acted as a backdrop, gradually fading away as both of you are enveloped in your private symphony.

“So what do you think?” His question came out as a heavy breath. His cologne enveloped your senses. You always felt like this, nauseated. Whenever he’d catch you staring at him from time to time. It got worse when he'd smile at you, his eyes crinkled upwards. The butterflies in the pit of a stomach would trill intensely as though your body was trying to warn you.

“I mean I think it's good but music is…music is subjective you know I can't speak for-”

Before you finished your sentence, his lips connected with yours. Your hands moved to his nape as you slowly melted in the kiss. Your reciprocation gave him the confidence to wander down to your waist, sending pleasurable jolts just from an action as simple as that.

You gasped into his mouth when he pinned you down on the floor scattered with newspapers, but had no intention of pulling away.

‘Honestly,” He began, his breathing heavy on your lips. “I just wanted to have an excuse to bring you here. The song's been ready for release since last week.”

“Sneaky bastard,” You teased.

“You were still the first to listen to it.” Kazutora's hand trailed up your waistline, squishing where necessary earning a surprised squeal from him.

“Jesus…” You mumbled, pretending to get upset with him but ultimately laughed softly.

“So, what'd you think?” He asked. “I wasn't lying when I said I wanted to hear your thoughts about it.”

“It was romantic. A bit explicit but…” Your words made him laugh awkwardly.

“Uh yeah… even though it's my song I had Makoto write some lyrics for me.”

Your eyes grew wide and you sat up. “Makoto from…”

“Makoto from M.M? “

That explained a lot. A smug grin formed on your face in a way that had the celebrity feeling uneasy.

“I wouldn't think that you of all people won't be able to write explicit lyrics.” You teased.

“It's not like I can't write them. I don't want to show that side of me to fans yet.”

“Why? You should go for it.” To your amusement he seemed abashed about the idea, you could have sworn his ears got redder in colour.

“You don't have to jump into it immediately,” You quickly assured him. “It's just a suggestion.”

He let out a noncommittal hum, rubbing his nape as he got off you, exposing a different side to him. You watched him for a moment with a fond expression on your face before lying down on your back. Taking a breather like this, it was rare. Your muscles ached with fatigue but the thought of falling asleep was damn near impossible.

Still. You closed your eyes, letting your body relax in his presence and the growing silence. The papers rustled beneath you and Kazutora's warm breath fanned on your exposed skin.

His eyes were on you. You didn't have to open them to notice. It didn't bother you, you recalled he mentioned something about your face being easy on the eyes. It made you uncomfortable.

You knew he would stop it if you told him about the feeling he elicited from you, strangely you brushed it off. In his eyes were nothing but compassion - the same compassion he harboured for his loved ones and fans. Perhaps it was the intimacy behind them that made you inept.

“Hey, Y/N?” His boyish voice relaxed your muscles further.

“Hm?” You hummed in response.

“Wanna go on a date with me?”

Shinichiro, whose lips you stole in a kiss on his birthday; since then he's thought of you and your strawberry lips, while he works, in his sleep, as he's cooking for his siblings. He can't get it out of his head. He doesn't know if it is because it was his first time kissing a woman, or maybe it went deeper - more intimate than that.

Shinichiro, who is usually composed when talking to you, now a stuttering mess when he greets you. You smirk and tease him for it, calling him adorable and he absolutely melts. He goes about the rest of his day with a dopey grin spread across his face.

Shinichiro, who cums in your fist after you give him his first non-solo handjob, his hand splayed over his flushed face to hide his embarrassment as he shivers. His moans are needy and breathless, in between them he says your name like a broken record.

“Shh… I'm here for you, Shin. Think you have more of it in you? You're so cute I just can't help it.” You lean in to kiss his cheek and then his lips, swollen from your excessive kisses.

Shinichiro, who you lie with beneath the covers where only you and he exist, naked along with limbs wrapped around each other. He savours the euphoria you give to him, relishing the feeling of being inside of you; you make him feel alive.

Shinichiro, who fumbles his words when you question him about the bouquet of roses in his grasp.

“These are for you…” He mutters, not looking you in the eye.

Your heart melts as you take the bouquet in your arms and lead him further into your apartment to properly thank him for his kindness.

Shinichiro, who takes you out on late-night motorcycle rides. Your arms wrap around him tightly as he revs off into the night like a mad man. He loves it when you hold onto him, your soft curves pressed up against his back and the light scolds that leave your mouth.

Shinichiro, whose heart sinks at the sight of you in the arms of another man, taking his place under the sheets just as he is about to tell you how he feels about you.

“I don't see why you're so upset,” You quip, shutting the door leading to your bedroom as you trail after him.

“I'm not good for you, Shin.” You peer at him through lashes, meeting his red-rimmed gaze. “I'm sorry.”

With that, you turn around and head back to your bedroom, crushing his heart in the process, stepping on it and tossing it back in his palms.

“Oh.” is all he mutters. “You..you can't tell me we were just friends that's…” The cracks in his voice ache your heart but you steel yourself.

He turns to look at you. A flash of disbelief and hurt spreads across his face, alongside frustration. “Did you even consider how I feel? When you…kissed me in front of everyone, did that mean anything?”

You tense when he puts you on the spot. The response you have for him remains trapped in the junction of your throat and you can only lower your head, remaining quiet.

A quiet scoff can be heard from him, followed by sniffles.

"I'm not good for you, Shin.” You peer at him through lashes, meeting his red-rimmed gaze. “I'm sorry.”

Shinichiro, whose fragile heart you crush beneath the weight of your painful departure, stands before your closed bedroom door unable to hold back his tears as he takes every ounce of his remaining strength to traipse out of your apartment building.