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heegyukeluv · 1 day

Text

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.

#heeseung x reader #lee heeseung x reader #lee heeseung smut #lee heeseung fluff #heeseung fluff #heeseung fanfic #heeseung imagines #heeseung smut #enhypen x reader #enhypen smut #enhypen fluff #heegyukeluv reqs #heegyukeluv works

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aingeal98 · 2 days

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Ultimately the resolution of Jason and Cass fights comes down to the fact that while he has his own ideals that don't mesh with the bats, Jason can be flexible. DC skipped the whole reconciliation with the family but while he's willing to kill it's generally a means to an end to him, not the whole entire point unless you're talking about Joker. Meanwhile for Cass the question of killing vs not killing is dead serious to her which means any time they're working together and things start going off track it's like:

Jason: Look if we kill this guy we send a message to his boss which makes it easier for us to negotiate with him from a position of power and I just think that-

Cass, snatching one of his guns and pointing it at her own head: Go on, pull the trigger. Kill him. Kill me. Go tell Batman that you let his daughter die to make a negotiation easier. He already let you die so no problem right? You think we should die? You think our life only worthwhile as part of a plan, just because we're killers? Are we doomed? Are we rotten to the core with no hope of redemption? Go on then, kill us and kill part of your soul alongside it. You clearly don't care for it so why are you even trying? Kill yourself along with us, come on Jason let's all just die right?

Jason, slowly backing away: I think you may be projecting a tiny bit so just. Calm down before I call the suicide hotline please.

Cass, slowly lowering the gun and knocking the random henchman unconscious: Yeah that's what I thought, fucking pussy.

Jason: Mm yeah you know what I hate you actually. Fuck this mission I'll just shoot you right now if you're going to be this annoying about it.

Jason, explaining things later to Dick: So I just kept shooting at her until I ran out of bullets and we both calmed down enough to call a truce. We tracked the guy down and didn't kill anyone but I did blow up the batplane just as a last minute screw you. Is she always this uh... intense?

Dick: Yeah, one time I broke up with Barbara and she threw me out a window. She's just like that.

#dc #cassandra cain #jason todd #batfam #dc rambles #dick grayson #it's so funny how jason is like. a mass murderer. and yet he's more of a team player than cass #like yeah he's violent and unpredictable but if you're on the same team with the same temporary goal then you've got decent chances #meanwhile the entire team could be seconds away from dying with the only solution being to kill a guy with a bomb #and if you're on the team with cass she'll spend the last few seconds punching you in the face for trying to kill the evil guy #then disarming the bomb because she's just that annoying #I love her very much <3 #i'm jason posting a lot recently sorry jtodd stans for clogging up his tag #I just like the thought of jason dealing with a mini bruce that has none of the baggage of being his dad #so it's just the experience of ramming his head into an annoying brick wall with zero catharsis of confronting your shitty father

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muzaktomyears · 3 days

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Two of Us play notes/thoughts/Easter eggs I noticed

they played solo Beatles tracks as waiting music before the play began so I sat there listening to ‘Monkberry Moon Delight’ with a theatreful of people which was great

before Paul turns up John is baking(/burning) bread

John is wearing underwear under his dressing gown which obvs had to be but also my suspension of disbelief was CHALLENGED

when Paul rings up to be let in John does a little rhyme to make him prove he is who he says he is. this is not the exact wording but it went something like: "Five little boys in Hamburg did play/All through the night and all through the day/Ingrid the stripper would do anything/But who got the clap? Was it sexy Stu Sutcliffe - or the lead singer in Wings?" and then Paul has to admit it was him who got the clap

when Paul takes his shoes off he also takes his socks off - idk if this is an intentional barefoot Paul thing but it is hilarious later when they're fighting and Paul is about to leave and angrily putting his socks back on

John and Paul have Get Back era hair/beards, which is weird - presumably because they assume people going to see this will also have seen Get Back but might not know their 1976 looks as well?? idk

some of the dialogue and references have been made a bit more British - the skit they do at the piano is now set in a British greasy spoon instead (still with the American accents)

instead of fighting "like the Hatfields and McCoys" they're now fighting like "the Montagues and the Capulets" (👀)

'Sh-Boom' is played on the record player while they smoke weed (Paul uses the album cover to roll the joint)

George and Ringo both get more of a mention! Paul says that George is happy now (John replies that he's not happy, he's reincarnated). John tells Paul a story Ringo told him about going on a bus in NYC and being recognised.

"I'm the best fuck you ever had" is said by John during the fight (Paul replies "If that's your way of saying you were the real brains behind the Beatles-" etc. etc.)

"You should have married me when you had the chance" is said by John during the Yoko/losing my friend bit

"It's only me" as John's way to get Paul not to leave after the fight

when John goes out to get disguises for them Paul sits at the piano and starts playing some notes he finds there (he'd asked about them earlier and John had said they're nothing). we get a few notes of 'Now and Then' before John returns (ghjshgkhgkdshgksd who did this I HATE YOU)

the appearance of the I Love Paul badge!! John wears it on his disguise jacket and Paul asks what it says. John tells him and then Paul replies "Lucky Paul".......

they never go outside in this version - John says he'll go but then thinks better of it. this means that John comes across as even more locked away than he does in the film.

the police bit is sort of done when Paul puts on a leather hat from the disguises and pretends to be a policeman come to question John, who John then talks back at. he also yells out of the window at some police below at one point.

Paul realises they're never actually going to Luigi's, so John lays the table for him as if they're at a restaurant together (including calling him "Lady McCartney" and "my love")

the bit with the fan is sort of recreated but instead it's John asking Paul whether he truly thinks Wings at the Speed of Sound is the number 1 record in America (which obvs changes it quite a lot)

Julian is brought up - they're toasting to various people/things (ending with "Dr. Winston O'Boogie and Paul Ramon") and Paul says "to Julian" and sort of confronts John about him and how he treated him

during the toasting Paul also mentions "putting hair on a seagull's chest" which John questions and then Paul says it's something his dad used to say

I thought the lift scene/roof scene wouldn't be happening... BUT THEN a lift descended from the ceiling ❤️ the magic of theatre

the kiss still happens and idk but I thought the vibe was a bit different from the film version - less jokey (and no lines after about brushing his teeth/is my name Brian)

Paul: I bought into it that you and me didn't get along well (paraphrasing the Stephen Colbert interview)

they hug at the end of the roof conversation (I was sat very close to this since the actors come in front of the stage to do it and they were both crying and it WAS ALL TOO MUCH 😭😭)

John gets them two guitars to practice with before they go out and they sit opposite each other in chairs and Paul says “I know which one to begin with” and John says “What?” and they lean forward and then the phone rings

when Paul leaves John he’s crying and it’s like okay rip out my heart I guess

the play ends with Paul on the phone to Linda and John on the phone to Yoko, at opposite sides of the stage, and they say “I love you” to their wives but also to each other and it’s ridiculous????

yeah then ‘Give Peace a Chance’ plays which is such a bizarre choice idek

anyway who knows if it's a good play or what the actual people there thought about it because obvs I can have no rational reaction to it but I'm so glad I went to see it because someone on the writing team is one of us I SEE YOU

#anyway somehow they made it gayer #well done #john&paul #two of us play

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pomefioredove · 15 hours

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helloo! ^^ can I req hcs of dorm leaders + Rollo and neige with a fencer reader? If it's okay with you, ofc!! I really enjoy and love your writing 🫶

ofc and thank you! ^-^

*ੈ✩‧₊˚ fencer reader

type of post: headcanons characters: riddle, leona, azul, kalim, vil, neige, idia, malleus, rollo additional info: romantic or platonic, reader is gender neutral, reader is not specified to be yuu, short

Riddle would be into it. he goes on and on about what a dignified choice of sport that is, how he's always wanted to try it, on and onnn. I just think he's really into swords. he'll ask to watch you practice, all giddy and cute. the guy is genuinely fangirling

*ੈ✩‧₊˚

Leona is like... okayyy. and? you can play with sharp objects? he grew up in a palace surrounded by guards and nobility, he probably had his first sword when he was three

defo challenges you to a duel because he thinks it would be funny. and he WINS

(then he buys you whatever you want as a consolation prize bc he's soft for you)

*ੈ✩‧₊˚

[Azul voice] please no weapons or magic in the lounge

...you'll have to demonstrate for the (very eager and interested) tweels outside from now on

Azul will, of course, come to watch. he'd be interested in anything you do, really, because it's you. and watching you try to tell the tweels they can't really kill each other with these kinds of swords is amusing

*ੈ✩‧₊˚

Kalim is somehow 100% convinced he can teach himself how to fence within in a week. he thinks you're that cool, and, sevens does he want to play with swords. he probably has a lot of them, too, which Jamil very strongly advises him not to touch (because he has little regard for himself or his surroundings).

Kalim will let you take as many as you want when you come over. he does not know that these aren't the swords you use in fencing

still... um, it's the thought that counts, right?

*ੈ✩‧₊˚

like with any sport, Vil can respect your dedication to your passion. and you have really good posture. he would get Epel to join you, but the thought of that boy with access to weapons of any kind, safe or not... yeah

he's nowhere near your level, of course, but he's always happy to help you with any aches or pains from bouts. in return, you can help him rehearse for roles that require swordsmanship. fair enough

*ੈ✩‧₊˚

the Neige Leblanche, swooning? yes, actually!! I can't overstate how much of a sucker he is for the whole... dashing and chivalrous thing. it's the sword, yes, but it's also the outfit, the rules, the way you're so... charming. you could pull him 100%

*ੈ✩‧₊˚

Idia is a simple man. he sees someone being really good at a niche sport he knows from his fav manga and anime, and he absolutely trips over himself. literally head over heels. blushing, giggling, et cetera, he's just such a freak about this sort of thing (affectionately)

*ੈ✩‧₊˚

ah, Malleus. if anyone here can appreciate swordsmanship in all its forms, it's him. with his royal guard and his knights and his freaky gothic castle...

he'll probably invite you to fence with him, and he completely wipes the floor with you (this is Malleus Draconia we're talking about, after all). but lovingly!

he's having the time of his life :)

*ੈ✩‧₊˚

wakey wakey Rollo fans

to be engaged in a non-magical activity, based on agility, wit, and, arguably intelligence, in which there is form and order and rules...

of course, you have his full support

he somehow shows up at all your bouts, is with you before and after practice, and takes his duties as your companion very, very seriously

#twisted wonderland x reader #twst x reader #queued #riddle rosehearts x reader #leona kingscholar x reader #azul ashengrotto x reader #kalim al asim x reader #vil schoenheit x reader #neige leblanche x reader #idia shroud x reader #malleus draconia x reader #rollo flamme x reader

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darnell-la · 2 days

Text

𝗧𝗔𝗞𝗘 𝗜𝗧 𝗙𝗢𝗥 𝗬𝗢𝗨𝗥 𝗠𝗔𝗦𝗧𝗘𝗥

pairing: the wolverine x assassin!reader

warning: Wolverine struggling to regenerate, stabbing, brutal killing, manhandling, pinning, trapped, cutting clothes off, breaking skin, rough sex, begged, hard orgasm, etc.

request: After Logan gets taken back to Japan for his old friend buddy's last goodbye, idk if you've seen that movie but you know how their interaction goes, and then the old friend dies. Basically, people start going after his granddaughter uh sorry anyway after the old friend's funeral Logan gets away with the granddaughter and heads to the safe house. Once there Logan gets to relax for a few days till more bad guys show up and try taking the granddaughter. It makes Logan angry and as he ends up fighting one of the bad guys he discovers it's a female and that's when female y/n comes in place. Maybe Logan is just too tired and overall angry he takes it out on y/n in a very aggressive nsfw fashion of course

note: this story is a bit all over the place because of how angry the Wolverine is in here. He isn’t as nice as usual. He takes what he wants, and of course, y/n’s going to take it all.

Please comment, like, reblog, request, and follow us!

———

How do you guys feel about a x men story with reader? Logan being rude Logan at first, then slowly shows small affection towards the reader. Jealousy and things of that sort. They soon hit it off, and after Logan starts acting rude again, because he’s scared of the love he grew for her. It’ll be a long story, but something to read at night. ALL ON WATTPAD! Comment below, please!

———

“Mariko?” Logan growled as he woke up on the couch he chose to take so the princess could take the bed. “Hey — Mariko!” Logan groans, sleeping from the well-needed nap after all he’s been through for the past few days.

“Hey?” Logan heard Mariko speak as she opened the front door. Logan quickly leaned up from the couch, remembering that there were people after her.

“Shit,” the man groaned under his breath as he got up, falling at first, but got back up and ran to the front door. She was speaking to someone who he couldn’t see.

“Alright, talk time over,” Logan said as he pulled Mariko from the door. He went to shut it until he saw who stood in front of him. A woman.

“Hi, I was just wondering if you were interested in some fruits?” The woman asked, making him look down at the covered basket she had in hand.

“Come on, Logan — We haven’t eaten a good meal in a while,” the princess spoke behind Logan. He had jumped at her voice, almost forgetting she was there. He was too focused on the woman standing before him in a white wavey dress.

“Uh- Sure, sure — Two for the lady and one for me,” Logan said as he dug into his pockets, looking down to see if he had changed on him.

As Logan locked for chained, he saw the woman open the basket. He saw the fruit, but under the few was a knife. A sharp snide that looked like it was made out of carbonadium. Something that can kill him.

“Shit- Princess, safe room-“ before he could finish as he turned around, the woman kicked open the door, making the man fall to the ground.

Mariko screamed as y/n ripped her dress off, showing her in a suit. The wavey skirt and the tight shirt that was swordproof, made Mariko’s heart pound. She knew this was the doing of her father.

Y/n jumped onto the man’s back as several other men came into the house from different angles.

Y/n quickly stuck the man in his upper shoulder, causing him to yell out in pain. She twisted in carbonadium knife, smirking at the pain he finally could feel. “You won’t be healing soon,” she said before getting off of the man to go after Mariko.

“No, no!” The man tried grabbing after the woman, but he couldn’t. The pain that went through his shoulder only angered him. This whole fucking situation angered him.

Logan growled as he struggled to get up onto his knees. It took him a while, but he finally got to his feet, almost tipping over, but he held himself together.

The man reached behind his back, struggling to find the knife until he did. The man gripped it hard before pulling it out with an animalistic yell.

“Hurry! He’s coming back!” Y/n, the woman yelled at her men as they tried breaking done the steal door Mariko was hiding behind. She was quick to run, giving Logan time to get up and active.

“Who sent you?” Logan asked, slightly knowing who it could be, but he needed to know for sure. “He’s back! Fight!” Y/n yelled, making her men turn around and attack Logan.

Y/n stayed behind, trying to cut the wires to the key, but it would take a while. She needed to cut the right ones.

The noises Logan made as he fought the men with carbonadium swords, slightly scared y/n. She told Mariko’s grandfather that she was ready, but she knew nothing about Logan.

He was an animal. An animal that has been holding anger for years, and these past few days have been bottling up inside of him.

The carbonadium wasn’t working on the man. Yes, it cut through his skin, making it sting worse than usual, but he still slightly healed. The adrenaline in his body was the danger.

“Retreat! Retreat!” One of her men said, making her turn around to see Logan rip apart the last few remaining. She jumped at the way his claws sliced one’s neck.

Logan was on one knee, in a superhero landing position as he breathed heavily, claws out and to the side as he tightened his fists.

“Shit,” y/n took off and ran towards the back door that was open after Logan looked up at her. His eyes were dark, his fangs showed, his mouth quivered and his growls were deep. She was the last one left. She needed to get out.

Y/n almost made it to the front door, hoping she could make it to the van they all came in, but she was caught and thrown back in the house.

Y/n whined as she grabbed her side, feeling pain in an instant. She was no mutant. She was a human. She’s trained almost her whole life, but she would never stand a chance against someone like the Wolverine.

“I’ll give you a chance like I gave you men. Who sent you!?” Logan asked, walking over to her as she slowly crawled backward on the floor.

“Please, spare me,” the young lady said as he held a hand out, still not willing to give up her senpai’s name. “Who the fuck sent you woman!” Logan yelled as he hovered over her.

“Logan! The fight is done, just let her go! This is not her fault!” Mariko yelled from inside the safe room. As Logan heard her pushing the codes, he ran over to the door and roped out the outside keypad, making the inside malfunction.

“Logan? Logan! Logan!” Mariko yelled, feeling his anger from inside the room. “Stay there, princess. I’ve got some business to take care of,” Logan said as he looked back at y/n.

Y/n quickly got up in pain and ran. She yelled, hoping someone would maybe hear and help her, but even if they could hear her, who would want to go against the Wolverine.

“You ain’t gettin’ out of here,” Logan lunged after the young lady until he got her, picking her up and slamming onto the hardwood table in the dining room.

Y/n yelped, trying to move and get rid of the pain, but Logan picked her up and slammed her back onto the table.

“Ow!” She cried out as he stared down at her in anger. One hand retracted his claws as he pushed her shoulder down and the other stayed out, hovering over her face.

“Don’t make me hurt you if I don’t have to, Bub. Who sent you?” The man asked as his blades slightly stuck at her neck to scare her.

Usually, he would’ve killed her but now, the way she looked at him in fear and struggled with his one hand on her shoulder, made his breathing slow down. She wasn’t alarming. She wouldn’t stand a chance against him.

“You were badass just a second ago. Climbing in my back and stabbing me with that carbonadium or adamantium shit,”

“Please, just- Just let me go,” y/n begged as the blades broke the skin, making tears slip from her eyes. “Why can’t you just tell me, kid. You’re risking your life for someone who doesn’t care for yours,” Logan said, feeling a bit sad for the young lady, but he couldn’t show that. At least not at this time.

“I will never give his name. I serve him with all my life,” y/n said, eyes so glossy, she could barely see Logan. “That’s a shame, princess,” Logan traced his blades down the girl's neck, making viable scratches.

The man watched the woman’s mouth part, trying to keep in the pain, but she was human. It stung like hell.

“You’ll do anything for your master? Anything?” He asked as his blade stopped in the middle of her shirt, at the top of the collar. “Anything,” she tried seeming tough, but that soon faded as the made ripped at her suit.

Y/n’s tits flashed the man, making him groan low. “No bra on a mission? What did you expect when you got here?” Logan said, making it seem like she dressed this way for him.

“W-Wolverine, please,” y/n sobbed low as his eyes trailed down the rest of her body. “Pretty girls shouldn’t be out on missions. Especially for me. Do you know what I do to those girls?” Logan asked as he slowly lifted her skirt.

Mariko had no idea what was going on from front the outside. He had destroyed the speaker on the keypad. He can tell himself he didn’t plan this, but distorting the speaker could argue against that.

“P-Please — Take her, and I’ll leave. I won’t follow,” y/n said, feeling her heart rate speed up. “But I haven’t told you what I do to pretty girls like you,” Logan said as his blade trailed down her stomach until it cut her panties.

Y/n whined as she bucked her hips, trying to get from under him, but there was no use. The man chuckles as he rips the rest of her panties off.

“I teach them a real lesson,” Logan said as he began tugging on his belt. “W-Wolverine, stop this. Spare me, I swear I won’t follow,” Y/n said as her eyes kept switching from his eyes to his crotch.

“After I’m done with you, you’ll be coming with us. You’ve fucked yourself over,” Logan said. “N-No — No, I can’t,” y/n finally began pushing at his arm and pushed her shoulder down.

Logan retracted his last claws before he reached into his jeans and pulled himself out. Y/n had stopped moving for a second, eyes widening as she scanned his length.

The man was painfully hard, cock red and slightly blue as pre cum slipped past the slit of his tip. “N-No,” y/n stuttered as she slowly began to fight again, kicking and clawing at him, but nothing was working.

“You said you’d do anything for your master. Let’s see how much you’ll do,” he said as he moved up in between her legs, making her legs part wide.

“N-No, sir!” Y/n pushed at his lower stomach as he pushed at her entrance. “C’mon, princess. Let me in,” Logan growled, hands coming to her waist to grip and pull her into him.

“S-Sir,” y/n stuttered with a whine as she threw her head back. The young lady's back arched as her hands grabbed his wrist, trying to grab onto something to help the pain she felt in her lower stomach.

He was huge, and he knew that. He was just too angry to care about it. He needed to take it out somehow, and this random assassin that was sent to kill him and take Mariko was perfect. She was perfect.

“Should’ve quit, baby. Should’ve said no to this mission,” the man began moving at a fast hard pace, watching her body jolt at his strokes.

“P-Please, stop!” Y/n cried out, feeling her orgasm near. She was going to cum by the Wolverine pounding into her. How could she? How could she do this to her people?

“You sure, Bub? You’re about to cum — I can feel it,” Logan growled as he snapped his hips faster, watching her grip his worst tightened and shake her head.

It was getting hard to hold in her moans. He used her so well, and she couldn’t lie and say she hated it. Her body said the complete opposite. She was going to gush around him, and he was going to shoot it.

“Names Logan, by the way, Bub, and I’m gonna use all my anger out on you,”

Logan pulled back and picked the girl up, throwing her over his shoulders, and made his way into the spare room he let Mariko have last night.

“L-Logan,” y/n said the man’s name, not actually knowing why. The man threw y/n on the bed, instantly hovered over her, and turned her onto her stomach.

“Please, spare-“ y/n went to beg again, embarrassed that she wanted to explode, but he ignored her as he forced his way back through her slit, stretching her at a different angle.

Y/n cried into the pillow as her hands flew back, trying to slow his thrust by placing her hands on his lower stomach.

The man was shirtless when he opened the door, and at first, y/n was thankful for that because she could stab him better, but now, she was glad that she could feel him.

She was a struggling mess, giving him a hard time, but she knew deep down she loved this. She loved being taken just like this by him. By the Wolverine.

“C’mon, baby — Take it,” Logan grabbed both of her wrists and pinned them on her back before pushing down and snapping his hips.

Y/m felt like her back was going to break. Her vision had already gone blurry and her legs had started trembling.

With no words, only moans, y/n came around Logan’s cock, soaking him and the bed. “Ah huh, ah huh,” the man groaned as one of his hands gripped her hair and pulled her head back to hear her.

“Don’t fuckin’ hide it, kid. Cry on my cock proudly. Keep sickin’ me in for your master,” Logan said with a smirk, knowing she’d feel embarrassed if he knew what she was up to.

“Assassin my ass — Look at you. Fuckin’ weak. So fuckin’ weak, you can barely talk,” Logan teased before pushing her head into the pillow she was just crying in.

“Take it, take it! Fuckin’ take me, baby,”

236 notes · View notes

neiptune · 3 days

Text

i don't want you like a best friend

cw: 4.2k wc, female reader, soulmate au, friends to lovers, tendo may be the only person in the world without a mark and it's quite hard to convince him that, most times, the universe doesn't know shit

“Holy shit, this is the best thing I ever tasted”.

“Don’t lie”.

“I’m not!”.

Tendo narrows his eyes, unimpressed.

“You said that about the last five bonbons”.

“Listen, the one with port and cinnamon was great n’all but this is a cookie dough brown butter bonbon. I’m blown away. I want to sleep with this one. I want to buy it dinner and then take it to bed”.

That’s when Satori laughs, loud and boisterous as he still allows himself to be around you. It makes you smile, seeing him happy.

“Tell me the secret to crafting these”.

“Again?”, he snorts, “I already explained the process a million times”.

“Wanna hear it again. I like how you talk about it”.

“Okay, weirdo”, there’s fondness and a silent invitation in the way he pushes the little box of his latest experiments towards you.

It’s soothing, comforting, listening to instructions you’re already familiar with. Tendo goes over how important it is to choose flavors that are fun and still be attentive enough to make sure the chocolate stands on its own: flavoring components should never completely ride over it. He skillfully exercises subtlety when coming up with new combinations, always keeps the interior so creamy and smooth the treat ends up melting in a delicious puddle on one’s tongue. The outer layer should never be too thick, chalky or cakey: that’s why he prefers to form most of the chocolates with his hands instead of using a mold.

There’s creativity involved in what he does but there’s also science. It requires a lot of patience, most of his work is made of tedious steps repeated over and over again within specific time limits and a perfectly calculated temperature. It fits him, you believe: Tendo’s always been diligent and persevering, no matter what the world threw at him.

He puts a lot of work in his boxes too, especially the ones he has to ship. They’re all triple-insulated, double-stuffed and always perfectly packed. A cute, colorful thank you card always goes hand in hand with each purchase, if he receives orders for a birthday or a special gift he’d even write a personal note as an addition. As a foreigner, it hasn't been easy to establish himself as a reliable chocolatier in a city like Paris, but he now has a pretty loyal clientele and the shop is basically never empty.

“That one’s my favorite”, Satori’s eyes zero on the bite-sized bonbon you’ve picked from the box.

You hum, appreciating the way the chocolate melts in your mouth. It’s not as good as the previous one but you recognize the artistry with which the flavors fuse with each other, chocolate ganache with clementine and hazelnuts, just a hint of lemon zest.

“They’re all incredible, ‘Tori. You’re very talented”. Tendo smiles.

“Thank you”, he mutters, grateful, “now, can we talk about it?”.

“There’s nothing to talk about”, you dangle your legs from the counter of the little production kitchen in the back of his boutique shop, closed for the day. It’s incredibly tidy, smells of soap and citrus.

“You impulsively booked a flight across the world because of a guy”.

Ouch.

“I flew across the world to visit my best friend”, you scowl, “thought he’d be happy to see me”.

“I’m fucking ecstatic, ma chérie”, it’s probably the happiest he’s been in years, “but we need to talk about it. Tell me what’s on your mind?”.

He can see the bags under your eyes, the usual brightness missing from your smile, playful vibration to your jokes absent. He knows you’re hurting and while he’d be thrilled to keep you in Paris for as long as you wish, Tendo has to know what’s broken before he even attempts to mend it. His gaze falls on a specific portion of skin of your wrist and a sigh slips past his lips.

“He broke up with me”, you articulate slowly, “said we weren’t compatible. Said it’s safer to abandon the delusional ideas that drew us close to each other and do things how they’re supposed to be done. According to the plan”, there’s a grimace on your face that pairs well with how you spit out the last words.

“Did you show him?”.

“No, you know I don’t do that anymore. He didn’t see mine and I never wanted to see his. He agreed to that”.

“Right”.

“And then, I don’t know, he did what everyone always does. Changed his mind”.

Satori sighs. Truthfully, he’s always been a little sad about your mark being permanently covered with thick foundation, concealer or whatever else. It’s been years. He misses seeing the little crooked triangle on your wrist.

“Well, maybe…”, he starts but is soon interrupted by a loud scoff.

“Don’t”.

“But they’re not wrong. The universe has it all layed out for you, maybe it’s time you stop being so stubborn”.

“I don’t care about the universe, Satori. The universe is not going to take away that choice from me, it should belong to me. I don’t want to be destined to someone, I want to be chosen by them”.

He deflates in the plastic chair he’s sitting on. Can’t really argue with that logic.

Ever since middle school, when your mark first appeared, you never wanted to succumb to the whole the cosmos has already decided who the perfect person for me is bullshit. You simply can’t accept giving up the freedom of falling in love with whoever you wish to pursue, regardless of the universe agreeing or not. That’s why you never really cared about matching marks and all that jazz, always dated those who seemed not to care either. But after a number of failed relationships, it became painfully obvious that deep down, everyone always believes marks are the real deal. It’s why you decided you never wanted to see the mark of the next guys you’d date, and certainly didn’t want to show yours anymore. Sometimes it’s even hard to remember it’s still there, underneath stubborn layers of concealer. You hated it your whole life.

“You’re right. It’s your life, you should live it however you see fit”, they’re idiots for giving up on someone like you in the name of a dumb sign or whatever anyway.

“I thought you’d understand this more than anyone, you’ve always hidden your mark too. I don’t even know what it looks like and it’s okay! It’s yours! Shouldn’t belong to anyone else’s prying eyes”, you pick another chocolate truffle from the special box he’s sorted for you. It’s red velvet flavored.

Tendo insisted on calling his shop like that, rouge velours, deaf to the literal translation not being entirely correct. The french need to associate the word gâteau to it, it has to be a red velvet cake. But he didn’t care, adamant in going with just red velvet.

It was a joke you had blurted out at the end of high school, sitting on the curb outside your favorite konbini on the way home, another summer evening made of snacks shared underneath the street lamps. Satori said he wanted to move to France and learn how to make handmade chocolates, open a shop and everything. You suggested it should’ve been called red velvet, would’ve paired well with his hair. It never crossed your mind that he would take your suggestion seriously.

Frankly, Tendo’s not changed much since high school. He’s a little taller, broader in the shoulders, prefers a buzz cut. He’s still cheerful, less loud if you’re not around, enjoys singing made up tunes to himself while he works, occasionally takes part in volleyball games when neighbors or friends from the gym invite him. More than anything, he’s still the kindest, most generous friend one could have.

You used to be a little jealous of Ushijima, never one to accept easily to be downgraded in the best friends ranking system. As a teenager, it was hard to acknowledge that Satori’s heart is simply big enough to fit everyone he cares about in there. Not many people realized how much of an honor that was anyway, so there was plenty of space.

He still calls Ushijima to check up on him and the fact that they declared to be best friends during a television show didn’t leave a sour taste in your mouth as it would’ve back then. Wakatoshi is a nice guy, it definitely grew on you and it now gives you comfort knowing that Satori gets to throw the blanket of his affection over more than one person’s shoulders.

Not a day goes by without missing him, different time zones making it even more complicated to keep up with each other. Yet, he’s always the one willing to stay up late to talk to you, insists that while you work in the morning, he enjoys crafting chocolates in the middle of the night. That hardly matters, since you know he has to wake up early to open the shop.

“Hard to hide something you don’t have”, he grins from where he’s sitting, in front of you. Your dangling legs come to a halt.

“What?”.

“I don’t have a mark”, Satori shrugs, “not a big deal”.

“That’s impossible”.

“You’ve seen me naked”.

“Because you didn’t lock the damn bathroom door!”, your face heats up at the memory belonging to so many years ago. He snickers.

“Well, if I had a mark you’d know!”.

You pause, incredulous.

“Did you check your nails? Maybe it was in your hair and you shaved it off. Everyone has a mark!”.

“I don’t have it”, he knows, he’s checked every inch of his body for too long before giving up, “don’t act so shocked, it makes perfect sense”.

“What the hell is that supposed to mean?”.

Satori shrugs, a timid smile on his lips.

“I’m damaged goods. I wouldn’t expect to be the right fit for anyone, the universe decided to spare me and a potential unfortunate match the embarrassment”.

To him, it’s perfectly normal that there’s no one right for him out there. Or rather, that he’s not the right person for anyone. Who would want that, anyway? The guy who’s always been too weird to be looked at normally. The guy who always stands out the wrong way. If the universe has decided to be merciful enough to spare him the disappointment flashing over someone’s face upon discovering that he’s their soulmate, the only thing Tendo should feel is gratitude.

“Don’t say shit like that ever again, Satori. Damaged goods? What the hell? You’re the best person I know!”, you almost throw the chocolate box at his head, “anyone would be lucky to have you as their soulmate. Anyone. I’m certain you’re the perfect match for a lot of people but I find it very hard to believe they’d deserve you anyway”.

You’re his best friend, you’re supposed to say all that. Yet, kept silent by that fiery glare of yours, Tendo can’t help but feel his chest warm up.

He didn’t necessarily have a crush on you in high school, that’s what he told himself anyway. When you started going out with Eita, part of him was relieved you went for someone normal. His teammate fell into the right category: Semi was attractive, had good grades, knew his way around girls. It was a good reminder of what Tendo wanted for you, of what you deserved. He cared deeply about your happiness and would’ve went to impossible lengths to shield you from all the bad there was in the world. That still hasn’t changed. Your best friend was what he was always destined to be and it was more than what he could’ve asked for, anyway.

And so it wouldn’t have been right to fantasize, to admit to himself that for the first time ever since he was a kid, Tendo wished to be the opposite of what he was. He dreamed of a different childhood, school days filled with friends, practice bursting with laughter instead of whispers, not a reason in the world to direct him curious or grossed out stares. He wished he was handsome, charismatic, funny in a way that made girls laugh in sincere amusement instead of discomfort. He wanted so badly to be everything he was not, for you.

When he admitted to himself that he loved you, deeply, ferociously, in a way that would’ve scared off any other human being, high school was over and so was his volleyball dream. Another fantasy coming to an end. Satori announced he wanted to move to Paris, expecting life, distance, a different time zone, your boyfriends, to make the friendship too heavy of a task to keep up with.

And yet, you stayed by his side. Most importantly, you wanted him to stay by yours. Tendo has never been much used to the feeling of being wanted, his presence wasn’t exactly desired by other people throughout his life. But you and Paris both taught him that maybe he does have something to give, something people can be willing to accept. So what if that something isn’t romantic love? He’s already luckier than he ever imagined he would get. He’s going to be okay, as long as you’re his friend. He’ll manage.

“Satori”, you snap him back to reality, “I mean it. Fuck the universe”.

Honestly, the only thing he’s mad at the universe for is making you so deeply unhappy. Tendo’s not sure he can forgive the cosmos for failing you so many times.

“Yeah”, he agrees lightly, “fuck the universe”.

Maybe Tendo had a point when he referred to your little vacation as ‘impulsive’, given that you never really travelled outside of Japan before. Yet, what initially was an easy escape from your disappointing reality and a wonderful excuse to finally visit your best friend, soon turned into a delightful adventure.

You reciprocated Satori’s hospitality by being as useful as possible: you’d keep his place tidy and clean, get groceries, cook dinner. He’d insist on ordering out, would try to snatch the vacuum cleaner from your hand, sometimes Tendo would come home later than usual with his hands filled with groceries just so that you didn’t feel like you needed to refill the fridge. But you liked being there and you loved taking care of him, especially since he vehemently refused to go back to sleeping in his bed and offering you the couch instead.

On his rare free days, Satori gladly gives you a tour of the city and his favorite places. When he’s working, you’d explore Paris on your own, the little map he drew by hand safely nestled in your pocket. Yes, you obviously have a phone, but the map makes each stroll all the more special.

Being with him and feeling genuinely appreciated, in a city so wonderful and far away from home, made you realize that perhaps the universe got it all wrong. Maybe there’s no one out there with a mark similar to yours. Maybe you’re not a match for romantic love in the first place. You’re already lucky enough as it is, with a friend so wonderful you can share lovely dinners with over episodes of silly tv shows, in a tiny apartment filled with affection and laughter. It’s the best you’ve felt in years and the idea of leaving has never felt as dreadful.

But everyone has to get back to their life eventually: there’s your job, bills, rent, you haven’t visited your parents in a while. All these things you’re having a real hard time caring about as Tendo offers another glass of wine, the bottle you’re sharing practically empty resting by his feet.

It’s your last night in Paris and he insisted on cooking for once, a full course dinner paired with an expensive Clos de la Roche. Notes of woods and cherries dance on your tongue when you take another sip and you shut your eyes for a moment, savoring the taste. How did you end up on his bedroom’s floor anyway? Was it him who suggested sitting on the carpet with your backs pressed against his bed? No, you’re almost certain it was you. Satori tries to be less weird as a grown up, by his own admission: he leaves odd suggestions and ideas to other people, too busy trying to fit in now.

You find yourself observing his profile as he torpidly blinks, his own gaze focused on the hands holding his glass. The line of his jaw, the perfect curve of his nose. You think he’s pretty, spiky hair no longer there to tear away one’s attention from his features.

“Did you date a lot, here?”, you ask, genuinely curious. He turns to look at you, amused.

“A lot? When did I ever date a lot?”, Tendo chuckles to himself but you recognize the hurt simmering underneath the humor. It hurts you, too.

“Well, did you date?”, your impatience feels surprising but there’s no time to dwell upon unfamiliar feelings, not as Satori hums with a lethargic nod.

“Yeah, a few times”.

“They didn’t ask about your mark?”.

Tendo’s lips twitch as he remembers how ecstatic the women he went out with were upon finding out that not only his mark didn’t match theirs, he didn’t even have one to begin with. He was the safest option they could ever date, no risk of forever.

“It’s easier to date someone you know you’re not gonna end up with”, he shrugs, “they felt more comfortable, it was fun and momentary, thus risk-free”.

You click your tongue in disapproval and Tendo cocks his head, confused by your scowl.

“They, they, they. I always hated this about you, you’re always focusing on what other people think. I want to know, how did you feel?”.

Maybe it’s the wine or maybe it’s the fact that you’re about to become a fugitive presence in his life once more, but for once Satori feels like huffing out his frustration.

“Like shit”, he admits with a sly smile, “I could fall for just about anyone and I’ll always know they’re not my person. I won’t ever have a person and it makes me feel like shit”.

You’re not sure why tears are suddenly pricking the corners of your eyes. Maybe it’s because it’s really hard to remember the last time Satori allowed himself to be vulnerable around you. It always felt like he talked more to Wakatoshi, man to man or whatever. You never felt like you could be fully there for him and now it’s almost too late again, only a few hours before you fly off to the other side of the world.

“I hate them”, you murmur, “it’s just cruel. You’re not supposed to be anyone’s temporary fixing”.

“I’m not ever going to be anything but that”.

“No, Satori-”, in the process of positioning yourself better in order to face him, you kick the not entirely empty glass previously resting by your leg. It’s gonna leave a stain but you’ll find a way to take care of it before you leave, this is more urgent. This requires you taking your friend’s face into your hands, to bring it closer to your determined gaze. “That’s not true. The universe doesn’t know shit, okay? I know you. You don’t need a fucking mark. In fact, you know what? I’m happy you don’t have one. Thank god. I-”, he gently puts his hands over yours and leans over to tenderly kiss your forehead. Your train of thought derails as he fixes you with an amused, fond stare.

“It’s okay. Really”, Tendo lowers your hands and then leaves them cold, head falling to the side, cheek pressed to the orange duvet cover of his bed. You’re pouting, looking more beautiful than ever underneath the dim lights of his room, and so he can’t hold his tongue.

“You know, I find it incredible that you haven’t been able to find your person yet, universe or not. How’s it possible that someone as wonderful as you is being dumped by complete idiots just because they believe in some stupid pre-decided romantic assignation?”.

You mirror his position and rest your head on the softness of his bed. Despite being still on the floor, it almost feels as if you’re lying next to each other.

“They don’t believe I’m wonderful. I guess I’m just momentary, too”.

He scoffs. Deep down, Tendo also believes everyone should be granted the freedom to pursue their desired relationship, especially you. Don’t they know how lucky they are? You ignore destiny to give those dumbasses a chance and they leave before they even get to realize what they’re missing out upon.

“I think marks are bullshit”, Satori gently takes your hand and traces your fingers with his own slowly, eyes still boring into yours, “in a world with no marks, they’d be on their knees thanking their lucky star you showed interest in them at all”.

You hum, a soft smile tugging at your lips.

Before Tendo interrupted your little motivational speech, you were about to tell him why it makes you happy that he doesn’t have a mark after all. Looking at him now, it’s all the more clear. It’s horrible and selfish and childish but, this way, you will never have to go through it: you’ll never have to find out that the one person who’s always been by your side, the one person who knows you better than you know yourself and still manages to love you, also isn’t the one.

Tendo is the greatest person you know, the only one you’d trust with your life. His heart is your favorite part of him: always stayed big enough to fit in all those who asked for access, kindness embedded so deep within him he never let the world’s cruelty affect it. Satori never stored an ounce of that nastiness people loved oh so much throwing at him, it let it become an armor instead. Steel made of insults, cruel jokes, mockery. It breaks your heart that he still wears it. It would break your heart to discover that someone like him isn’t destined to be yours after all, that the universe wouldn’t be benevolent enough to assign the best friend you ever had as your soulmate.

“You don’t mean that”.

You blink, slowly, actually fighting to keep your eyes open.

“What?”.

“What you just said. You’re drunk”, he chuckles quietly and, horrifyingly, you realize your mouth decided to voice those thoughts out loud.

The shock lasts a few seconds. Tendo is no longer fiddling with your fingers but your hand is still in his and the more you look into those crimson irises, the less uncomfortable you feel about what you just said. Is it the wine or is it just right?

“You think I wouldn’t be happy if the universe assigned you as my soulmate?”.

“I think you wouldn’t hate it”, Tendo softly ponders, “but that’d be far from ideal”.

“Hey, you don’t get to decide that. Me and the universe would be agreeing for once”.

Satori swears his heart skips a bit. All those years, all that badly harbored hope, the entirety of his restraint crumbling pathetically after a few drops of expensive wine. You don’t mean that, you can’t mean that.

“You could look at me like that?”, the question is supposed to underline how ridiculous the idea is, but he realizes he just sounds wishful.

“I know you think it’d be hard but it really isn’t”, you laugh softly. You’re looking at him like that right now. As you abstendmindedly play with his fingers, thumb gently rubbing circles on the skin of his wrist, you appreciate the pink dusting his cheeks, the slightly furrowed brows, the sweetness of his questioning gaze.

Tendo exhales slowly. Neither of you is resting their head on his bed anymore, too captivated by each other. “I’m not sure I’d survive the discovery of you of all people, not being the one I’d be destined to stand with for the rest of my life. Because what a waste would be, for that person to be someone else”, it’s nothing but a whisper, raw honesty doing something funny to his stomach as it slips past his lips for the first time. There’s no one but you, honestly. He knows there’ll never be anyone else. The universe has planned love for those around him and an eternal curse for his heart.

“A terrible waste”, you agree and the hand not busy interlacing your fingers with his, suddenly closes around the soft fabric of his hoodie to bring him closer. Satori doesn’t dare move, let alone breathe, effectively paralyzed by the idea of indulging something you’ll regret the second it happens.

Except you don’t. When you kiss him, tentative at first, all the pieces fall right into place. Your lips curl into a small, knowing smile as the world slows down. Then finally, finally, he kisses you back. It’s deeper, a hand pressing to your cheek, it’s corrodingly tender and you feel yourself melting into his touch, into the genuine reverence he holds for you.

Tendo feels something unravel from within, the tangles and knots of hurt, uncertainty, combust and disappear into thin ashes. He’s too lost in the moment, too drunk on how close you’re holding him as your tongue brushes against his own, to pay any attention to the itchy feeling over the skin of his wrist. Right where your thumb is pressing, a crooked triangle appears at last.

#tendo x reader #satori tendo x reader #tendo x you #satori tendo x you #hq x reader #haikyuu x reader

179 notes · View notes

the-upside-down-umbrella · 2 days

Text

The Smallest Man Who Ever Lived

Part 3

Five Hargreeves x Fem!Reader

(Booth Five)

Summary: After finding out about the seven years Lila and Five spent together, reader walks in to a diner in between all time and space and finds exactly what she didn’t know she was looking for

Warnings: Some cursing, angst

A/N: They’re may be some major grammar errors because I’ve had a massive migraine for several days now but I wanted to get it out as soon as possible ❤️ I hope it’s up to expectations. I had so much fun writing it. This is the last part and then there will be a short epilogue!

Also, Five is still very much alive and dealing with the consequences of his choices. Everything else is left up to interpretation

————

“Come on, there’s someone you need to meet,” Y/N said, holding her hand out for Five to take, “Blink us to the subway.”

“Y/N, what are you-“

“My God, Five, for once in your life would you just do as your told,” she snapped, frustration bleeding from every word, “Blink us to the subway!”

He looked taken aback for a moment before he finally relented, taking her hand and blinking them to the terminal.

She immediately started in the direction she knew the Deli would be in. Five followed her, more than a little confused by her behavior.

He trailed behind her down the stairs but stepped back in surprise when the marquis lights of the deli came in to view.

His steps faltered and he knitted his eyebrows together in confusion, “Max?”

“Max,” she confirmed, “You are, in fact, seeing your name. Come on.”

He followed behind her cautiously but she did not hesitate to open the door of the deli, stepping in like she was a frequent patron of this place in the middle of all of time.

Five instinctively put a hand on the small of her back, ready to protect her if necessary but she inched away from him. She acted like his touch was the equivalent to an white-hot, iron poker. She was also incredibly too comfortable in this new environment.

And he realized why as soon as he was over the threshold. It was like looking in to a shattered mirror. He saw himself all around the room, in various positions as both patron and employees of Max’s deli.

A Five in the middle of the room stood up as soon as he noticed them, a look of sheer surprise on his face. Y/N strolled forward without hesitation and met him half-way. This Five, this him, held out his arms towards her and she fell in to them, welcoming his embrace. All the while his eyes glared over her head, straight in to Five’s skull. If looks could kill.

“What are you doing here?”

“We need your help.” She explained, “Things are going south topside and I figured when it comes to apocalypses, the more Fives, the merrier.”

“I’m sorry, does someone want to explain to me what the actual fuck is going on?” Five interrupted them.

Booth Five bared his teeth, “What’s going on, asshole, is that you left her down here on her own after you fucked-.”

“Hey, no!” Y/N put a hand on his chest to urge him to stop talking, “Come sit down, Five, and we’ll explain.”

She gestured to Booth’s usual table.

“You’re giving him far too much Grace, darling,” Booth growled in her ear as she slid in to the seat beside him, completely ignoring her Five’s pleading eyes as he realized that she was not going to take take the place next to him.

Y/N placed a gentle hand on Booth’s thigh under the table, giving it a soft squeeze in attempt to keep him calm. She didn’t need them going after each other before she even got the first word out.

Booth took that as his cue to move closer to her, closing the small space between them, purposely brushing his thigh against hers. She ignored him, but couldn’t help the goose-bumps that erupted across her skin at his close proximity. It was crazy what reactions he could bring out of her, even with her timeline’s version of him sitting across from them.

Five eyed them, his mouth set in to a hard line like he was trying, with great difficulty, not to say something.

“Explain,” he demanded, “What is going on, Y/N?”

“It’s a waypoint,” she told him, “they’re all you from different timelines.”

Five looked around the deli, taking in all of the different versions of himself. Most of them were lounging, enjoying lunch or a newspaper, while others seemed fresh out of whatever hell their timeline had to offer. A version of him was obviously very drunk, attempting to drown his sorrows in a bottle of something hard.

“How did you even know about this place?”

“I found it when you brought me down here after…everything.” She recalled, “Or more like it found me.”

Waiter Five stopped at the table, sitting two black coffees, two pastrami sandwiches and a cup of tea in front of them.

She smiled up at him, “Could you please tell the kitchen that they’re going to burn the brisket this afternoon and that they should be extra vigilant about it.”

Waiter Five seemed unperturbed by her prophecy, as if he had witnessed them a thousand times. Which she realized, he probably had. “Sure thing, sweetheart. Thanks for the heads up.”

“You’re welcome.”

“You’re not going to like that,” Booth said as Five reached for his cup, pulling a pastrami sandwich towards himself simultaneously.

“Can we stay on track, boys?” Y/N chastised, “We have a lot to figure out.”

Booth launched in to his explanation about how there was never supposed to be multiple timelines. And how their existence was the very problem they’d been trying to solve this entire time.

“When you look ahead, what do you see, Y/N?” Five questioned her.

She closed her eyes, trying to block out the various clattering and background noises of the deli, but try as she might she was met with nothing but a solid, unyielding, darkness. She expected it to feel cold or maybe lonely, but it didn’t feel like anything at all. There was nothing there.

“I don’t feel anything,” she concluded, opening her eyes to find two identical, worried faces watching her closely. “I can’t see anything. Usually I can at least gather little glimpses of things I can piece together but it’s dark.”

“If that’s what you’re seeing, then that means my plan will work.”

————

Five bolted out of the deli so swiftly, she didn’t have time for a proper goodbye with Booth.

She was thinking about going back when Five grabbed her arm, stopping her in her tracks, “What the hell was all of that back there? Is there something going on between you and…me? Him?”

She pulled herself out of his grip, “And why would you care if there was, Five?”

“Because I love you,” his voice cracked, “You know I love you.”

“You didn’t love me enough to not fuck Lila,” her voice wobbled, but she wouldn’t cry. Not over this. Not anymore. “You didn’t love me enough to not fall in love with her too.”

“It was seven years, Y/N. We…we didn’t think we were going to find a way home. We were alone. We were tired. You have to understand that.”

“No, I really don’t,” the anger in her chest flared up once again, red hot and burning, “You spent forty years alone, looking for a way back to your family, and you did everything you could to do so. But you’re telling me that this time you gave up after just seven? I know you, Five, and I know that deep down you always knew that you’d find a way. But you got comfortable with her and you just stopped trying.”

“What’s worse is that I could understand if it were just the three of us mixed up in this mess, but it’s not! Lila is MARRIED! Lila is a MOTHER! Lila is married to your brother and the mother to your nieces and nephew. You drove their marriage apart. You knew you would be breaking up a family and that still didn’t stop you. You weren’t alone anymore, Five. I was there. I’ve been there. I’ve always been there when you needed me and that still wasn’t enough. You aren’t this sad little boy lost alone in the apocalypse anymore. You’re a full-grown, adult man and it’s time that you own up to your mistakes. And this is a big one.”

“So what you’re saying is that I’ll never be able to fix this?” He asked, “You’re never going to forgive me? You won’t even try?”

“How could I, Five?” She took a deep breath, steadying herself, “How could I when all I can see when I think about you, is her? You kissing her. You fucking her. You loving her. And that’ll always be there. It might dull over time but it will always be there playing in the back of my mind. So, no, we can’t fix this and I don’t want to. I won’t put myself through it just to come out the other side burned again. I respect myself too much.”

“And him?”

“That’s none of your business.”

“He’s literally me. It’s very much my business.” Five was trying to sound casual, but she could tell that her words were eating at him. That it stung more than he would ever let on.

“But he’s not you, not really,” she said pointedly, “And he loves me, Five. In a way I’m not sure you ever did. Why else would we spend all of these years together and never actually move forward with our relationship? But none of that matters anyways. If we do this correctly, we’ll be gone and so will every other timeline. We’ll all cease to exist. And maybe that’s for the best.”

They stared at each other for a moment, a silent standoff.

“I do love you, you know,” Five’s voice was barely above a whisper, but his tone shattered her heart all over again, “But I never felt like I deserved you and I’m so sorry that it took me this long to realize that you’re the best thing that could have ever happened to me.”

“I’m sorry that it took you that long, too,” she said, “And I’m sorry that things have to end this way, but they are ending. In more ways than one. And we have to face it whether we’re ready for it or not.”

————

They did it. Not only had they restored things the way they should be, but they had managed to save themselves in the process.

They had lost their powers again, for good this time, but she didn’t care. If she was being truly honest with herself, she never wanted them back anyways. It was nice to look forward to the future without tiny glimpses of what was to come. Glimpses that usually set her on edge and kept her from truly living in the present.

She and Five had gone their separate ways. It was better that way. They both moved out of their shared apartment and she moved in with Allison, Claire and Klaus for a while until she found her footing again. Eventually that footing came in the form of a steady job downtown and a small studio apartment she could call her own.

As for Lila and Diego, they were continuing to try to make things work for their family. Lila had personally come to her and apologized once the dust settled. She told her that she and Diego were now attending couples counseling and were trying to move past things.

As much as she should hate Lila, she couldn’t. They would get along for Diego’s sake. Things were never going to be the way they were before, but they didn’t need to be.

Despite her newfound contentment, she thought about Booth Five often. It saddened her to know that it was likely that he no longer even existed somewhere out there.

She thought about how every Five in that deli had fought so hard to make things right but none of them had even come close to an iota, a fraction, of the happiness that they deserved.

———

It was a rainy Sunday morning and she was spending it curled up on her couch with trashy, mindless TV and a cup of tea.

She was just contemplating the idea of a nap when a soft, hesitant knock sounded at her door.

“Hold on!” She called, pausing the tv and wrapping the blanket around herself to hide the fact that she wasn’t wearing a bra and her pajamas had seen much better days. She hadn’t been expecting company.

She looked through the peep hole, her heart dropping a bit at who she found on the other side.

Five stood there, his hands in his pockets, rocking on his heels, as he waited for her to open the door. She hadn’t seen him since an impromptu family brunch over a month ago. He typically made himself scarce when she was around. Not that she blamed him.

She did a small round of the breathing exercises her therapist taught her before undoing the chain and padlock.

She had barely cracked the door open when she realized that something was just slightly off about her visitor. His eyes found hers and her breath caught in her chest. Those green eyes, as familiar to her as her own, did not belong to the Five she had expected to see.

“Booth?” She gasped, her head spinning.

He looked utterly perplexed by her nickname for him, but a grin spread across his face anyways, “You call me Booth?”

“How?” She squeaked, throwing the door open, “It is you, right?”

“It’s me,” he confirmed, “God, I’ve missed you.”

She threw herself at him, blanket forgotten, and he caught her with a surprised grunt, steadying her on her feet as she peppered his face with kisses. Wherever she could reach, she planted her lips there.

“How?” She breathlessly questioned him between kisses, “How are you here?”

“It’s a long story,” he told her, unwilling to let her go now that he finally had her in his arms, “One I promise I’ll tell you later, but right now, please don’t stop kissing me.”

She complied, stepping back just long enough to yank him in to her apartment by his collar, slamming the door behind them.

As soon as he heard the latch click, his hands were on her, starving for affection. Y/N returned those affections tenfold, scaling him without reservation.

Caution be damned.

“You’re here,” she repeated over and over, still unable to wrap her mind around it.

“I’m here,” he reassured her, running his fingertips along her spine, taking in the feel of her, “And I’m not going anywhere, if you’ll have me.”

She pressed her lips to his in answer, her fingers threading into his hair, pulling him closer.

“As if I would let you get away again.”

He chuckled against her lips before deepening the kiss, moving his hands to her waist. He dug his fingertips in there, oh so deliciously, and she melted against him. Everything with him had always felt so right, natural, from the moment he first held her in the deli.

Fated. Meant to be. Call it what you will, but she knew that being with him was worth all of the inherent risks that came with it.

They were lying in her bed, wrapped up in each other, as Booth drew lazy circles up and down her arm.

“You don’t mind me calling you Booth, do you? It was just easier to differentiate between the two of you in my head that way.”

He laughed, pressing a kiss to the crown of her head, “Sweetheart, you can call me whatever you want as long as you call me yours.”

Her cheeks warmed and she buried her face in his neck, taking in the scent that was uniquely him. Uniquely Booth.

“I love you,” she hummed.

“I love you too,” he tilted her chin up so that they were nose to nose, “Thank you for giving me a chance.”

Tag List:

@hydrationqueensworld

@mangoshorthand

@isabelcor3

@heyyitsreign

@mrfeenysmustache

#five hargreeves #the umbrella academy #tua s4 #five hargreeves x reader #five x reader #five x y/n #five x you #five/reader #reader x five #tua #tua season 4 #tua five #tua spoilers #umbrella academy five #number five #five hargreeves x you #x y/n #x reader

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cvnntagious · 18 hours

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Die For Me

☆ Fuckboy!Matt Sturniolo blurb for anon

Not that you cared, but Matt had been M.I.A for over a week now. He hadn't been in class, hadn't texted you, and you hadn't seen him in his usual hangout spots around campus. Not that you'd bothered to check.

Well, okay, you shouldn't have checked — But you did. Not because you cared. I mean, he didn't care, so why would you? You'd been looking for him because, for some reason, your professor had decided to hand over his work to you. It didn't seem like he knew where Matt had gone either.

You didn't really understand what this had to do with you. The professor had just told you to give it to Matt whenever you got the chance. What, did he think you and Matt were something? Because you're not. That's not what Matt wanted, and neither did you.

But as your grades began to slip, it was clear Matt was on your mind. For no reason, really. Like, you didn't like him or anything. Seriously, you didn't like him. Usually, with the help of Matt, you would've been able to de-stress by now. Even touching yourself was no good. His help had been keeping you steady for the semester, and without it, you were nothing academically. At least that's what you told yourself.

Today 10:22 PM : ' Hey sorry. Been a minute. '

That's what you saw pop up on your phone as you tried to focus on studying for the upcoming quiz. You knew who it was before you even read the contact at the top of the notification — that unreadable way of texting, topped with an annoying amount of periods, just like always. He said it'd been a minute, but it had only seemed like seconds since you last talked at that moment. You were already annoyed.

Texting back seemed like no use, brushing it off with a sigh that exuded not only irritation, but a hint of relief as well. At least now you knew he hadn't gotten himself into some shit. Not that getting into shit was much like him, it was more his brother's thing. But still, he tended to stick his nose where it didn't belong when it came to any problems Chris got into.

Today 10:25 PM : ' Come slide. Dorm's P17. '

You tried to ignore it, but the numbers caught your attention. Could he really want you this bad? Usually he'd come to your dorm, or on some rare occasions you'd meet him at Chris' frat. Never once had he bothered to give you his dorm number. This felt new, possibly refreshing. He'd always told you where he stayed wasn't necessary information— basically the nice way of saying he didn't take you seriously, nor trust you enough.

Though tempting, your better judgement told you not to give in so easily. As you held down the power button and slid the icon to power off before flipping your phone face down, you felt a certain sense of empowerment, proud of yourself for deciding it wasn't worth it. So why did you find yourself waiting for him to answer the door, fidgeting nervously as you looked at the short brown carpet of the dormitory hallway?

"Didn't even get a warning," You heard his voice as the door opened in front of you, causing you to look up at him.

With an embarrassed chuckle, you lifted your hand to show him the black screen of your phone. "It died," You lied, eyelashes fluttering as your eyes met his blue ones.

You watched his small smile as his tongue ran over his white teeth to hide it, invisalign making them chunky and, in some strange way, admirable. Then, he stepped aside, giving you room to walk into his doorway. "S'late, I know, but I just- like I said, its been a while," Matt began explaining as you walked into his dorm, leaning on the doorframe as his head followed you.

You turned to look at him after having taken in his dorm, rather unimpressed by the lack of personality. "Yeah, about that, actually— Where y'been?" You asked curiously, as he shut and locked the door behind him.

Matt only shrugged, suppressing a smirk as he took a step forward to let his hands travel down your waist. "Lot'a stuff," He replied simply, head cocking slightly to one side. Of course he wasn't going to tell you - he never told you anything. "S'a lot to handle, y'know," He then added, eyes darkening as they held contact with yours.

Your brows furrowed at his words, a bit confused. If he didn't want to tell you why he was gone straight up, you'd prefer if he didn't start hinting at stuff. "What is?" You breathed out, hands moving to rest on his forearms as you unknowingly caught his bait.

"Not being able to see you every day; To touch you every day." He said that as if it were the most obvious thing in the world, his head dipping to place open mouthed kisses on the sensitive skin of your neck. "To call you mine," He then whispered. You knew it were dumb to think he meant that, but for some reason, those four words made you want to give yourself to him completely.

Matt smiled for the first time since you'd walked in when you pulled back to admire his face, letting out a small hum when you leaned back into him to press your lips against his. Just like that, he walked you backwards towards his bed, hands slipping under your shirt to caress the soft skin of your stomach. The coldness of his silver rings caused you to hiss into the kiss, too distracted by the sensation to notice him turning you so that he was now with his back to his bed.

As he sat down on his bed, he pulled you down to straddle him, hands holding your waist. You looked down at his glossy blue eyes as your hands reached up to knock his hat off of his head, fingers threading through his brunette curls. "What d'you want, Matt?" You finally asked, one hand coming down to allow your finger to caress the underside of his chin as he looked up at you.

His hands traveled up your figure, lifting your shirt as he did so. He allowed his hands to rest on your boobs, kneeding them as he chuckled ever so quietly. "To not have to do the work this time," He answered in a teasing tone, eyes flickering down to look at where his hands worked.

Though reluctant, you lifted yourself off of his lap to hoover over it. Using one hand to stabilize yourself on his shoulder, your free hand made its way down to his belt buckle as he watched your every move intently, "Don't look so happy," You mused when your eyes had glanced up to see the excitement in his.

"You know I love this shit," He quipped as you pulled his belt through the loops, lifting himself just enough for you to pull his pants down to his thighs. You only had so long to admire all you could see through his boxers before you felt Matt tugging on your pants, pleading without words for you to take them off.

Again, you lifted yourself off of him, this time allowing him to unbutton your pants and shimmy them down your legs until they were discarded somewhere beside his bed. As he fiddled with your pants, your hand began palming him through his boxers, length already riled up from not being touched much longer than he was used to. He groaned as his eyes remained locked on yours, a wet patch turning a spot of his boxers a darker shade of gray.

After a bit of teasing, you decided it was time to finally get your eyes on the prize—his prize. Pulling it out of his boxers, you ran your hand along his shaft to feel it rock hard already. "So big," You muttered, eyes glued to it.

Matt couldn't help the chuckle that escaped his lips at your words, expression smug as it could be. "This's new news?" He asked playfully, a stark contrast to his usual cold behaviors. It was like he really came out of his shell when he was aroused, and you were ready to put him right back in it.

With a squeeze of his dick that caused him to grunt, you pulled your panties to the side and lined him up with your entrance. Matt looked enthralled as he watched you do your work like this were routine, hands leaving your hips to rest behind him, leaning back to tilt his head back when you sunk down onto him without warning.

His hair was messy, and he could feel he was ready to sweat with your gummy walls around him. Lips pursing together, he hummed as you began to slowly grind into him, letting you do the work, just like he said he wanted.

It wasn't long before you began bouncing on him, hands on his shoulders for stability as you let out choked moans, as if his cock were suffocating you. The quick pace had your thighs burning, struggling to keep up with it, and yet, Matt simply watched in enjoyment. It wasn't often he allowed himself to freely make noise, but you could tell he was really enjoying this, with the way he had let out more groans and pants than usual.

Seemingly out of nowhere, his hands dartted out to grip the flesh of your hips as you continued your motions. You could've swore you heard a whimper when his head dropped forward to lean on the front of your shoulder. "Fu–ck this," He drawled out to you, hips begining to meet yours as he chase his high.

This simple, not so innocent gesture only served to fuel you, completely forgetting about the burning sensation. Your bounces got bigger, lifting yourself all the way to his tip before dropping back onto him with shreik-like moans. Matt was loving this, pants and groans now following each motion on his painfully ready cock.

"K- keep goin' f'me, baby, m'gettin close," He rasped, forcing himself to lift his head from your shoulder so he could look in your eyes while he came.

You nodded, bouncing mixing with grinding as you tried to tell him you were close too. It was too late. You let out a loud moan as you snapped on top of him, Matt following suit at the feeling of your sticky liquid releasing all over his dick. Your movements slowed to ride out your guys' orgasms before eventually coming to a halt, both of you panting with each other.

"Le's, uh— We'll do that more often, yeah?"

○

"Come on over, baby, can you slide for me? Yeah / You know how I love it when you ride on me." -Chase Atlantic

w/c : 1.8k a/n : if you've sent in any anons, i promise i'm getting to them. it's taking me a while cs i take forever to write and now i'm super busy so please bare w me, these anons have been building up for months now...

-love, your grandma cvnty ☆!

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darkficsyouneveraskedfor · 12 hours

Text

Just Friends: Big News

My warnings are not exhaustive but be aware this is a dark fic and may include potentially triggering topics. Please use your common sense when consuming content. I am not responsible for your decisions.

Character: Bucky Barnes

masterlist

Summary: You have a surprise for Bucky.

It’s giving

As usual, I would appreciate any and all feedback. I’m happy to once more go on this adventure with all of you! Thank you in advance for your comments and for reblogging ❤️

“Hey!” You bounce up to the table. It’s funny how Bucky can look so intent. So gloomy in the midst of the bustling cafe. He sits up as he puts his phone down on the table. “I’m sorry I’m late. I got great news!”

“Oh?” His brows lower, “well, you’re double sugar frappa-whatever is melting.”

He points across the table as you sit and roll your eyes.

“If you tried it, you wouldn’t be making fun of me. They are delicious!” You put your purse in your lap and take a long slurp through the straw. You pop your lips off and let out and ‘ahhhhh’. You smile at him as he gives you that look.

“I don’t take sugar in my coffee and you barely take coffee in your sugar,” he drones.

You giggle. He's always so grumpy about the smallest things.

“News?” He prompts dully.

“Right,” you wiggle in your seat. “I got you a date!”

He twitches and tilts his head, “a date?” He gives you a cautious look and shifts in his seat. “Uh...”

“Yes! This lawyer lady I know. I met her at a trivia night way back and added her on Insta. Well, I saw her post the other day and I was like how did I not think of this before?”

“Lawyer?” He mutters. “I... you’re setting me up with a stranger?”

“It’s a blind date. It’s fun. She’s really established and smart and beautiful. Oh my god, she posted this picture of her in a bikini—I could never wear something like that.” You get your phone out and he sighs.

“Wait, why did you do that?” He grits.

You look above the screen at him, “well, you said the other day that you get lonely. That’s why you have Alpine, right? And she’s so sweeeeet,” you drag out the word in adoration, “but you need someone you can talk to. Who can talk back.”

“We talk,” he insists.

“Yes, but we’re friends. You need someone your own age. Or closer to.”

“Wait, how old is she?” He wonders.

“Aha, you’re interested,” you point at him accusatorily.

“I’m asking questions.”

“Right, she’s... fifty something? She doesn’t look it. Like you. You don’t look... uh... 1917... carry the one...”

“Stop that,” he demands. “I know how goddamn old I am.”

“Ha, yeah, sorry, I...” you scroll through your Insta friends. “Here!” You turn the phone to him and beam a smile in his direction. He glances at it for a split second and shrugs. He sits back and drinks his coffee.

“I’m not really... in that scene,” he says.

“You should get out there! I mean, you can’t bring Sam and Steve to dinner all the time. You need someone--”

“Is this what it’s about? Because I showed up at the restaurant?” He asks.

“No, it’s-- I’m being a friend. You two are so alike and she loves old movies and motorcycles. I could never! I'd fall off or not tie my helmet right,” you chuckle.

“Dreamy,” he growls.

“Bucky,” you whine back. “You gotta get out and have some fun.”

“We have fun,” he counters.

“We do and that’s awesome—Oh, okay, how about, I got an idea! A double date.”

“A double—you have... a boyfriend?” He taps the porcelain cup with his metal fingertip.

“Ha, no way. But I could find someone to come along. Just so you’re not alone. There’s a few guys at the restaurant I’m sure would go for a free meal or I mean I know other cute girls. I’m not picky.”

He closes his eyes and a line forms between his brows. He pinches his nose and squares his shoulders. “Where the hell did you come up with the idea that I wanted to date?”

“I...” you sit back and your smile falls. His blue eyes flick open as he drops his hand. The dimple in his cheek ticks. “I’m sorry, I thought it was—I was... trying to be a good friend.”

He stares at you and the stone slowly eases from his jaw. He looks down and back up. He huffs.

“I’m sorry, dreamy,” he says, “it’s just been a while for me. Not that I haven’t thought of it, you know? But I don’t know if I’m ready for that.” He shakes his head and glances around the cafe. “The last time I dance with a dame was a goddamn USO tour in 1945.”

That hits you like a sixteen-wheeler. You didn’t know that. You didn’t think of it. He’s been in this world for a while and he’s handsome and a superhero! You just though he’d have lots of people interested. Charlize sure seemed excited when you asked.

“And now you’re looking at me like I’m a loser because I haven’t kissed a gal in 80 years--”

“No, you’re not a loser. If you are, then I am.”

“Come on, you don’t gotta--”

“Really. I never kissed anyone. Not lying.”

He shakes his head and scoffs, “oh no, you’re not lying to make me feel better.”

You put on your most sober face, “Bucky, I swear,” your cheeks burn and you put your hands on your neck. “I mean... it would be nice I’m sure but it just never came up.” He looks at you quietly. You squirm. “I know you can hear that I’m telling the truth.”

“Yeah, I know,” he accepts at last. He crosses his arms and clicks his tongue, “fine. If you’re going to suffer through it, I will too.” He looks away as his jaw tenses, “if you’re going to keep pulling that puppy dog face, one day, it’s gonna wear off.”

“Yes! Bucky’s got a date! Bucky’s got a date!” You sing out of tune.

“Stop,” he snarls and narrows his eyes at you. You wince and giggle.

“Yay!” You put your hands up in a demure celebration and he tuts.

“You’re so cheesy,” he sneers.

“And you’re a party pooper. No moping on date night, got it?” You try to put on a stern face and he squints even harder. Finally, he cracks and gives a chuckle.

“You’re ridiculous,” he sniffs. “You and tough, don’t go together.”

#bucky barnes #dark bucky barnes #dark!bucky barnes #bucky barnes x reader #just friends #series #au #drabble #mcu #marvel #captain america #winter soldier #avengers

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foreverisntenough · 14 hours

Text

‘Act II’

Summary: Attraction is like a gravitational pull that is undefinable and unavoidable. Unbeknownst to you, Jude had been keeping an eye on you since he caught a glimpse on his best friend’s girlfriend’s Instagram but he’s been loving his single life. You always were independent and know how to swim on your own but maybe you have been just treading water. Could the tides change on a holiday in Greece when you finally meet? It might get a little rocky but maybe you could be his paradise.

Index

Warnings: This series is 18+ MDNI

Note: Thank you for reading! Please be sure to like, comment, or message me what you think of the series! ‘Act II’ is interconnected to the 'You’re Mine' and 'Ours' Series but can read it independently.

Chapter 9 - His Angel | ‘Act II’

word count - 12k

One evening, while at a friend’s party, things boiled over. Jude was already on edge, his emotions raw and barely contained. Toby had been trying to talk him down, saying it wasn’t worth getting upset over, but it only fueled Jude’s frustration.

“She was probably just waiting till you filled her wardrobe up,” Toby said casually, taking a swig of his drink, not fully understanding the depth of Jude’s turmoil. Jude froze, the words striking a nerve he hadn’t even realized was so exposed. He narrowed his eyes, the anger building inside him.

“What the fuck is that supposed to mean?” he asked, his voice low and dangerous.Toby shrugged, not sensing the shift in Jude’s mood.

“I mean, come on, mate. You think she’s ignoring you because she’s heartbroken? Girls like that move on fast. She’s probably prepping for the next season—new baller, new clothes, new Instagram posts. You know how it is.” Toby chuckled a little like this was obvious.

“Are you serious right now?” he growled, stepping toward Toby. “You think she was just some girl using me? Using me for fucking social media clout?” Jude snapped. His fist clenched, the frustration of everything—the uncertainty, the silence, the way you left—pushed him over the edge. Toby looked taken aback by Jude’s sudden aggression.

“Hey, relax, mate. I didn’t mean it like that. I’m just saying...the whole thing’s been, what, a holiday fling? You’re just trying to make yourself feel better because you’re finally realizing what this was. You’ll be fine, bro. Take a breath and move on. You said yourself you’re still the same lad… before and after Y/N.” The words hit Jude like a punch to the gut. The idea that this was just a fling, something temporary, something you’d move on from, sent him into a blind rage. He shoved Toby back, his voice rising as his emotions bubbled over.

“You don’t know anything about her or what we have!” Jude shouted, his face twisted in anger. “It’s not some fling, yeah? I fucking love her!” The room went silent. Toby stared at Jude, wide-eyed and speechless. He had never seen Jude like this—so raw, so vulnerable. It was clear this wasn’t just some casual relationship for Jude. His feelings for you ran deeper than anyone had realized, maybe even deeper than Jude himself had admitted before.

“You...you love her? Wow.” He asked, his voice soft, the shock evident in his tone. Toby blinked, trying to process what Jude had just said Jude, still seething, ran a hand over his face, realizing what he had just admitted in the heat of the moment. His chest heaved, the intensity of his emotions crashing over him like a wave.

“Yeah,” he muttered, quieter now, almost like he couldn’t believe it himself. “I love her.” For a moment, neither of them said anything. Toby, still stunned, finally nodded, understanding dawning on him.

“I didn’t know, mate,” he said softly. “I didn’t realize it was like that.” Jude slumped down on the couch, his anger subsiding into a heavy, aching feeling in his chest.

“Yeah, well...I fucked it up so now the girl I love left.” His voice cracked slightly, the weight of his own words settling in. He had messed up. He had pushed you away, and now you were gone. And for the first time, he was admitting—out loud—that he was in love with you, and he might have lost you for good. Jude got up and left the room, his heart racing and his mind spinning. He found an empty bedroom down the hall, pushed open the door, and sat heavily on the edge of the bed. His hands raked over his hair, pulling at the roots as if that would somehow release the pent-up frustration. Everything inside him was burning—anger, regret, sadness, but more than anything, pain. Moments later, the door creaked open. Toby hesitated for a moment before stepping in, the awkward tension filling the air. He cleared his throat.

"Do you... do you really love her, mate?" He asked. Jude didn’t look up, his shoulders hunched as he stared at the floor. Toby, trying to lighten the mood, let out a small, nervous laugh. "I mean, I never thought we’d get past having school crushes. You know? Didn’t think you’d actually—"

"Shut up, Toby," Jude snapped, his voice thick with emotion. The lightheartedness grated against the rawness he felt. This wasn’t a joke. Not to him.

"Sorry, man. I didn’t mean—" Toby's smile faded.

"It’s not funny." Jude’s voice cracked. His chest heaved as he tried to gather the words, his hands gripping the edge of the bed tightly. "You don’t get it. You don’t understand how much it hurts being apart from her. It’s like...it’s like breathing is harder when she’s not around. Everything is harder." His voice broke, the vulnerability he had tried to suppress for so long spilling out now that the dam had burst. Toby stood in stunned silence, his eyes widening as he watched his usually composed friend unravel. He had never seen Jude like this—so utterly broken. He wasn’t sure what to say. Jude continued, his voice softer but filled with despair. "When she’s around, everything feels lighter, man. She... she’s this perfect angel, and when she’s there, she makes everything easier. I didn’t realize how much I relied on her until she left." His fists clenched, and he let out a shaky breath. "I pushed her away. I hurt her, and now she’s gone, and I don’t know how to fix it." Toby took a cautious step closer, seeing the tears welling in Jude’s eyes. He had always known Jude to be strong, unshakable, but now? Now he was witnessing the depths of Jude’s emotions, the sheer gravity of what this relationship meant to him. Jude blinked rapidly, fighting to keep the tears from falling, but they slipped down his cheeks anyway. "You don’t know what it feels like. My heart... it’s in so much pain, and it’s my fault. I did this." His voice cracked again, the weight of his guilt crushing him. He wiped his face with the back of his hand, but the tears kept coming. Toby finally sat down next to him, completely out of his depth but trying to be there. He placed a hesitant hand on Jude’s shoulder.

"I had no idea it was like this, man. I’m sorry, bro. I didn’t realize she meant so much to you." Toby spoke. Jude shook his head, his voice barely above a whisper.

"I knew. I knew and I ignored it... until it was too late." He let out a deep, shuddering breath. "I’m in love with her, and I pushed her away. Now, I don’t know if she’ll ever come back." Toby sat there, unsure of what to say, but knowing that this was the most serious, the most real, he had ever seen Jude. The magnitude of what had just unfolded between them was undeniable. Jude wasn’t just heartbroken—he was devastated, and it was clear that losing you was his worst fear coming true. Jude sat on the edge of the bed, his emotions swirling like a storm. He took a deep breath, trying to compose himself, but the weight of it all was too much. His hands gripped the duvet beneath him, knuckles white with frustration and sadness. Toby wasn’t sure if he should stay or leave. Jude—the cool, calm guy who always had it together—was now unraveling in front of him, and Toby had no clue how to help.

"So… love her? You sure? Maybe you’re just.. I don’t know, mate. Just take a breath here, yeah?” Toby spoke, this time softer, without the nervous laugh from earlier. He thought maybe Jude was stressed, maybe he had drinks Toby didn’t see, he wasn’t sure. This felt foreign. Jude didn’t answer right away. He just stared at the floor, eyes glassy with unshed tears.

"You don’t know her, Toby." Finally, he spoke, his voice barely above a whisper, but every word was loaded with meaning.

“What do you mean? I’ve met her. She seems nice. But you know, maybe—" Toby frowned, confused by the response

"No." Jude cut him off, looking up at Toby for the first time, his eyes blazing with emotion. "You don’t know her." He wiped his face roughly, trying to rein in the tears that kept threatening to fall. "She’s...she’s not what you think. Not just some girl I picked up while on holiday, not some girl after my lifestyle. You have no idea." Toby stayed quiet, realizing Jude wasn’t just venting. He was confessing something very real. Jude shook his head, his voice thick with emotion. "She’s so much more. She’s strong, yeah, but... behind that strength, behind this thick wall she puts up, she’s soft, man. So soft. It’s like... like there’s this glass around her, and you’d never know how delicate she is unless you’re lucky enough to be let in. And I was." His voice cracked again, but he kept going. "I was the lucky one. She let me in, and I didn’t even realize how much of a privilege that was. I took it all for granted." Toby was silent, his earlier casual attitude completely gone. He could see now that this wasn’t just about a girl or a fling. This was something deep, something Jude had been hiding, maybe even from himself. Jude rubbed his temples, frustration clear in his every movement. "She’s... she’s perfect, Tobs. I mean, not in the way you’re thinking. Of course, she’s fit but she’s perfect in all the little ways that matter. The way she smiles when she thinks I’m not looking, the way she laughs at my dumb jokes, even when they’re not funny. And when she talks about something she loves, it’s like the whole world disappears. I’d be lucky to even have a chance to hear her talk about a painting for hours." Toby shifted, unsure of what to say, but Jude wasn’t done. His voice grew more intense as he continued. "You don’t know what it’s like to have someone like that. Someone who makes you feel like... like you’re not just another guy, like you’re special and not special in the way the whole world perceives you to be. Special in a way because of everything but that. And I messed it up. I pushed her away because I was scared. Scared of how much she means to me." Jude’s fists clenched, his breathing ragged as the emotion took hold again. "You don’t get it, Toby. When she’s not around, when she’s not there to lighten the load. She’s... she’s my angel, man. And I don’t know if I’ve lost her for good."Toby’s eyes narrowed at the weight of Jude’s words sinking in. Jude wasn’t just in love—he was consumed by it.

"Mate..." Toby started, trying to find the right words. "I really had no idea. You should’ve said something. I’m sorry I piled on. You’re Jude though, girl stuff always works out for you.” He gave him a sympathetic smile. Jude shook his head in disagreement. You were not another girl and he should’ve told you that because he knew it. Toby could feel his despair radiating off him. “I know I give you shit but you should’ve told me. I would’ve listened, I… I would’ve… I don’t know maybe treated her a bit differently knowing she wasn’t just passing through. I didn’t know you two were like that… honest.” Toby sighed a bit consumer by guilt that he hadn’t seen it.

"Of course you didn’t," Jude muttered, shaking his head. "No one did. I kept it hidden because I didn’t want to seem weak. But now? Now, it’s all crashing down, and I don’t know what to do. I’ve hurt her, Toby. I’ve hurt the one person I’d do anything for." Jude’s eyes filled with tears again as he confessed, "I’ve never felt like this before. It’s not just about her being beautiful or smart or whatever. It’s about who she is when no one’s watching. How she holds everything together, how she let me in when she didn’t have to. And now… fuck." Toby couldn't wrap his head around this. A big part of it being that Jude had been playing two roles. One for everyone else and one for you. He sat next to Jude listening as his friend poured his heart out. Jude wiped at his eyes again, trying to stop the tears from falling. "I love her, Tobs," Jude said, his voice trembling with emotion. "I love her so much that it hurts. And now she’s gone. I really fucking love her." Toby squeezed Jude’s shoulder gently, realizing that this was more than just a rough patch. Jude had found something rare, something deep, and in his mind, he had lost it all.

The stillness of the gallery felt almost oppressive as you sat there, staring at a message from Aurelian. The silence that had once been comforting now seemed suffocating. The familiar hum of the city outside didn’t reach you here, not in this moment. The world outside carried on, but in this space, in this moment, everything felt frozen. You hadn’t even realized you were holding your breath. Your hand trembled as you clutched your phone, reading and rereading the message.

‘Hey, chérie. Haven’t seen you around lately. Thought you disappeared or finally wised up and left Jude xx’

The words played on a loop in your mind. What was meant to be a lighthearted joke carried the weight of something far heavier. The irony, the bitter truth woven into those casual words, twisted something inside you. It wasn’t the joke itself—it was the reality behind it. You had left Jude. You had wised up, hadn’t you? You’d finally done what was necessary to protect yourself, hadn’t you? But why did it feel like anything but wisdom? You leaned back in your chair, staring blankly at the paintings in front of you. The half-finished piece seemed to mock you, its vibrant colors dulling in the dim light of the gallery. Your mind wandered back to Madrid, to the moment you stormed out of Jude’s house, his voice ringing in your head, the anger, the hurt, the finality of it all. It felt like a lifetime ago, yet the pain was still fresh, still raw. Your phone buzzed again, pulling you from the spiral of thoughts. Another message from Aurelian.

'Jude never said anything, so I wasn’t sure if you two were still a thing. I just wanted to let you know I’m having a party for my birthday. You should come. Jude’s invited too, but I figured you’re your own person, right? No pressure, just thought I’d throw it out there.'

You read the words once, twice, then a third time. It felt strange—foreign, almost—that Aurelian would reach out. You barely knew him beyond the surface level. He was Jude’s teammate, someone who existed in Jude’s world, not yours. Yet here he was, extending an invitation like none of that mattered. Like you mattered outside of Jude. A strange mix of emotions churned inside you—nausea, confusion, a flicker of something resembling hope, but mostly a gnawing emptiness. You weren’t sure why, but something about Aurelian’s message made your chest feel heavy. Maybe it was the idea that people already saw you and Jude as over, as if the relationship had never really meant anything. As if it was nothing but a fleeting moment in time. But it wasn’t fleeting for you. You hadn’t moved on. You couldn’t. Every time you closed your eyes, you saw his face—those dark, cheeky, expressive eyes that told you more than his words ever could. You saw the way he looked at you, the way he touched you, the way he said your name like it was something sacred. And now, all you had left was this void—a gaping hole where he used to be. You glanced back down at the screen, your finger hovering over the reply button. What could you even say? Did you even want to respond? Aurelian’s message, innocent as it was, brought everything crashing down on you all over again. You thought you were coping, thought you were getting through the pain, but the reality was you had simply buried it deep enough to pretend you were okay. And now, it was all bubbling back to the surface. You stood up, pacing the small gallery space, the echo of your footsteps the only sound in the room. Aurelian’s words replayed in your mind. 'Finally wised up and left Jude.' Was that how it looked to everyone else? Like you had made the smart, rational choice? Like leaving him was the right thing to do? But it didn’t feel right. It felt like a mistake—a colossal, gut-wrenching mistake. And now, here you were, standing alone in New York, trying to figure out where everything had gone so horribly wrong. You sank back into the chair, a wave of exhaustion crashing over you. Your hand moved instinctively to your phone, pulling up Jude’s Instagram. He hadn’t posted much since you left. Just a few cryptic photos—training shots, some scenic views of Madrid. Nothing personal, nothing that gave you any insight into how he was feeling. You clicked back to Aurelian’s message, staring at the text. Your finger hovered over the keyboard, unsure of what to say or if you should even say anything at all. But then, almost without thinking, you typed a response.

'Hey, thanks for the invite. I’ve been back in New York for a while now… just needed some space from the fun in Madrid. Have had a lot of work to do.'

You stared at the message, fingers trembling. It wasn’t the whole truth, but it was enough. You hit send, heart racing as you watched the message deliver. It was a small step, but it felt monumental.

'I hadn’t heard about the party from Jude…'

You carefully added, hoping the implication was clear enough for Aurelian to realize that you weren’t in touch with Jude. That you weren’t even in Spain. You made sure to emphasize you were definitely your own person now. The reminder, more to yourself than to Aurelian, stung. You had almost let Jude take that from you—your independence, your sense of self, your confidence.You didn’t know about the party from Jude. In fact, you didn’t know what Jude had been doing at all. You had been intentionally distancing yourself from him, avoiding his social media and keeping your phone at arm’s length. But it was impossible not to indulge in the pain of checking his match results. You still couldn’t help it—typing and deleting messages to congratulate him on an assist or a goal, as if some part of you was still tethered to him, as if a simple 'good game' might somehow fix what was broken. When Aurelian had messaged you about his birthday party, you felt a sudden pang of confusion mixed with something else—an ache, maybe, or a resentment toward the situation you were in. The sting of realizing that Jude hadn’t told you anything about it cut deep, but you quickly reminded yourself that you weren’t in Madrid anymore. You weren’t part of that world, part of his world. Not anymore. When Aurelian responded again, the message caught you off guard. The tone was familiar, comfortable, but there was something about it that made you pause. Flirty? Maybe. Or maybe you just wanted it to be.

'City's not as fun without you around. You’re your own person so just wanted to extend the invite to you but it was a stretch. I’ve always known you were in a league of your own.'

It was a compliment, for sure, and your heart fluttered a little. You weren’t sure how to feel about it—how you should feel about it. There was a part of you that felt guilty, as if entertaining the idea of anyone else, even casually, was some kind of betrayal to what you had with Jude. But there was also a part of you that felt validated, like you needed to hear that someone—anyone—still saw you as more than just the girl Jude had left behind.

'If you find yourself in Madrid for my birthday, it’d be the best present if you came through.'

You stared at the message, unsure whether to laugh or feel conflicted. He was obviously joking—at least, that’s what you told yourself. But the words lingered, hanging in the air, teasing the idea that maybe you weren’t just a footnote in Jude’s life. Maybe you could still be seen, desired, wanted, even in this limbo you were living in. What really stopped you in your tracks, though, were the last few lines. Aurelian switched to French, and the words hit you in a way that English never could.

'J’espère que tu vas bien. Tu me manques, ton accent, tes blagues, nos conversations.' [I hope you are well. I miss you, your accent, your jokes, our conversations.]

Even though French was spoken around the world, it still felt like a secret code between the two of you.You reread the message, your heart twisting in your chest. French had always been a part of you—a piece of your identity that grounded you, that reminded you of home, of your family, of everything that existed before Madrid, before Jude. And now, here was Aurelian, using it to reach out to you in a way that felt intimate, like he understood more than you thought. You closed your eyes, letting the words wash over you, the familiarity of the language wrapping around you like a comforting blanket. There was something nostalgic and bittersweet about it, like you were being pulled back into a part of yourself that you had forgotten. Or maybe, a part of yourself that you had abandoned.

'Tu me manques.' [I miss you.]

You missed him, too. Not in the way you missed Jude, but you missed the life you had in Madrid—the conversations, the lightheartedness, the easy camaraderie with people like Aurelian, who didn’t make things so complicated. It felt simple, effortless. And right now, you were craving simplicity. You stared at your phone for what felt like hours, the cursor blinking in the empty text box. What could you even say? The idea of going back to Madrid seemed impossible, a fantasy. The thought of running into Jude again—of reopening those wounds—was too much to bear. And yet, the thought of staying away, of cutting yourself off completely, left you feeling hollow. Your fingers hovered over the keyboard, unsure of how to respond. You wanted to tell Aurelian that you missed the conversations too, that you missed speaking French, missed feeling like yourself. But the words wouldn’t come out. Instead, you typed something simple, something safe.

'Thank you for the invite. I’m not sure if I’ll make it back to Madrid anytime soon, but I appreciate it. Hope your birthday’s a good one. Joyeux anniversaire, beau garçon.' [Happy birthday, handsome boy.]

You sent the message before you could overthink it, and then you sat back, letting out a breath you didn’t realize you’d been holding. The weight of everything—Madrid, Jude, the mess you left behind—settled back into your chest. You didn’t know what was next, didn’t know how you were supposed to move forward. But for the first time in a long time, you realized that you didn’t have to have all the answers. Maybe it was okay to just exist for a little while, to find your footing again before diving back into the chaos. As you sat there, your phone buzzed with another message from Aurelian. You didn’t open it right away. Instead, you allowed yourself to breathe, to sit in the stillness, to think about what you really wanted. Not what Jude wanted, or what Aurelian wanted, but what you wanted Because in the end, you were your own person. And no one could take that from you.

When Whitney called to tell you she was going to see Jude this week, you felt a sharp pang in your chest. It wasn’t unexpected—after all, he was still part of her circle, somehow—but it didn’t make it any easier to hear. Your heart hurt, caught somewhere between jealousy and sadness, and for a moment, you couldn’t find the right words to respond.

“I just didn’t want you to be caught off guard,” she explained, her tone filled with concern. Whitney’s voice was careful, measured. You appreciated the gesture—her honesty, her care in telling you ahead of time—but that didn’t stop the dull ache from creeping up on you. You swallowed it down, trying to muster a neutral response.

“It’s fine,” you said, forcing the words out. “He’s your friend too, right?” There was a pause on the other end of the line, and then Whitney’s voice came through, more insistent this time.

“No, he became my friend by proxy,” she clarified quickly, almost urgently. “You’ve always been my best friend. My loyalty is with you.” That small distinction—her reassurance—eased the tightness in your chest, if only just a little. Whitney had always been your person, the one who knew your heart inside and out, and hearing her reinforce that was a reminder that you weren’t alone, even in the aftermath of everything. You sighed, letting out a breath you hadn’t realized you’d been holding.

“Thank you,” you managed, but your voice wavered, the emotions rising up again. Before you could stop yourself, you stuttered, your words spilling out in a quiet, vulnerable rush. “Just… could you tell me if he’s okay? When you see him?” There was silence on the other end, but you knew Whitney. You knew she was processing the weight behind your words, the lingering feelings you had been trying so hard to suppress. You could practically feel her heart breaking for you, even across the ocean.

“I promise I will…” she said softly, her voice filled with the kind of empathy only a best friend could offer. You could hear the unspoken wish in her tone, the way she wished she could be there, in person, to wrap her arms around you and hold you through it all. “I hope he isn’t.” She sympathetically giggled. You smiled but bit your lip, blinking back the tears that threatened to spill over.

“I wish you were here,” you admitted, your voice barely above a whisper. The vulnerability of the moment caught you off guard, the way everything felt raw and exposed. Since Whitney moved it had been hard. You didn’t fault her any, in fact you encouraged her move to England but you missed her.

“I wish I could hug you right now,” Whitney said, her voice cracking just enough to reveal her own emotion. “But I’m here, okay? I’m always here, even if it’s over the phone.” You nodded, even though she couldn’t see you, and let the quiet between you settle like a balm on your aching heart. She offered to come be with you but you had work and she had Teddy. When you needed her you’d tell her.

When Whitney saw Jude, it was after an England international team friendly. Jude and Trent had gone out with some other friends for dinner, but eventually returned to Whitney’s house, where a group of footballers filled her living room. Despite the chaos, Jude slipped away from the group, finding Whitney alone in the kitchen.

“Have you talked to her?” Jude hesitated for a second before he spoke.She was rinsing out a glass when he walked in, his presence behind her unmistakable. Whitney turned off the sink, exhaling softly as she faced him.

“Obviously, I have. You know I have,” she replied, her tone firmer than usual. There was no room for pleasantries. She had always been fiercely loyal to you, and this moment wasn’t any different.

“I’m sorry,” he muttered, the weight of the words heavy. Jude stood there, not knowing what to say. His hands fidgeted at his sides, his eyes a little lost.

“You should be,” she told him, the anger she felt for you evident in her voice. “You really fucked her over, Jude.” Whitney didn’t hold back, meeting his apology with the kind of brutal honesty only a best friend could deliver. The kitchen fell quiet, and while the silence felt tense, it was also thick with a shared understanding. Whitney had every reason to be mad. She had seen you through the worst of it, the heartbreak, the silence, the ache that wouldn’t go away. Jude felt the weight of her words sinking deeper into him. Despite her frustration, Whitney’s naturally nurturing side softened her posture after a while. She had always been a mix of fire and warmth, too kind for her own good at times. So, after the silence had stretched on, she rounded the kitchen island and sat next to him. Jude’s hands clenched into fists on his lap as he looked down, clearly torn.

“How is she?” he asked meekly, as if he was afraid of the answer. Whitney looked at him for a moment, her expression softening. She could see how broken he was, but her loyalty to you came first. Your heart came first.

“I’m supposed to tell you she’s fine without you…” She bit her lip and shook her head gently, her voice dropping. Jude’s face contorted in a grimace at those words, the thought of you being okay, of you not caring about him anymore, striking something deep in him. His jaw tightened as if he was fighting back something raw. “Jude… she’s hurt,” she finally admitted, her voice tender despite the situation. “You didn’t just treat her poorly. You led her on and you left her with questions she didn’t deserve.” Whitney saw the pain flash across his face and sighed. Whitney sighed, her frustration palpable as she tried to find the right words. She wasn’t the type to sugarcoat things, but she also didn’t want to completely crush Jude. Still, this wasn’t a situation where being nice felt easy or right. “She’s upset, Jude. You hurt her. You hurt someone who has never even put herself in a position to get hurt before. It was a massive deal that she was opening up to you. She was willing to hurt and you promised her you wouldn’t and yet here we are.” Whitney said, her voice carrying a heaviness that had been building since this whole mess began. Her eyes locked on him, trying to gauge how much he really understood. “Do you even know how much she liked you?” The question hung in the air, and Whitney’s stomach twisted as she waited for his response. She wasn’t just asking for you. She needed to know if Jude had even an inkling of what he’d lost, of how deep your feelings had been, and if he was capable of feeling anything in return.

“Subconsciously, I felt like I knew… but it scared me,” he admitted, his voice quiet, almost ashamed. “Because I think—I know—that I might’ve had even stronger feelings for her. But I didn’t know what to do with that. It scared me, Whit. Telling her, admitting it, would’ve meant growing up… leaving behind this life I knew I was good at.” Jude ran his hands over his face, frustration and regret etched across his features. He looked down at the floor, almost as if he couldn’t bear to face the truth of his own words. “I don’t know anything about real relationships, and I know she doesn’t deserve anything less,” he added, the words almost a whisper. Whitney sighed again, softer this time, and reached out, picking up his hand.

“Every relationship is different, Jude, so I can’t speak for yours but none of us know what we’re doing at first. We’re all going in blind.” Her fingers tightened around his, a gesture more sisterly than anything, as she looked him square in the eyes. She paused, trying to give him space to let her words sink in. “But eventually,” she continued, “things get crystal clear. You figure it out. But you’ve got to be brave enough to take that step, to risk it. You’ve hurt her so much by not even trying. You’ve been playing it safe because you think you’re good at the life you had before her, but… you’re not that guy anymore, are you?” Jude shook his head. He had told Toby he was but he knew he wasn't. He wasn’t the guy he was ahead of that Greece holiday. His expression twisted, the words cutting deeper than he wanted to admit. He did feel stupid.

“I’m an idiot,” he muttered. He felt reckless for how he handled things with you, for not being able to face his feelings, for choosing a fleeting life of surface-level connections over something real, something lasting.

“Yeah, but we like you…” Whitney took a deep breath. “Jude… She really really likes you.” Whitney paused. She wasn’t going to say something for you but she knew you loved him.

"I bet she told you to kick me out." His voice was quieter. Jude shifted uncomfortably, his hands still fidgeting as he looked at Whitney. Whitney glanced at him, a faint smile tugging at her lips despite the tension in the air.

"I offered," she said with a playful edge, trying to cut through the heavy mood, knowing he needed something lighter for a moment. Jude’s lips curved into a genuine smile, the first one he had managed in what felt like forever. "But you know her. She’s not like that... especially with you." Whitney quickly clarified, her smile fading into something more serious.

"Yeah," he murmured. "I know." Jude nodded, the weight of those words sinking in. Whitney hesitated for a beat.

"Y/N… she asked me to make sure you were okay." She explained. Jude’s heart clenched, his chest tightening at the thought that, after everything, you still cared enough to ask about him. The sound of your name, even in passing, nearly undid him. His throat felt thick, and for a moment, he couldn’t speak.

"She… she asked about me?" Jude’s voice broke slightly, his face a mask of conflicted emotions—relief, guilt, regret. He wasn’t sure if that made it better or worse. He couldn’t say your name though it hurt too much and it pinged in his brain that this could’ve all been avoided if he had just grown up and said it.

"Yeah. As much as you’ve hurt her, she still wants to know you’re alright." Whitney nodded slowly. Jude let out a long, shaky breath. He was crumbling from the inside, the realization of just how much he had messed up crashing down on him like a tidal wave.

"What do I do, Whit?" he asked, his voice full of desperation. Whitney sighed deeply, walking around the counter and enveloping him in a hug. He felt like a lost kid in that moment, someone who had made a mess but wasn’t sure how to clean it up. She rubbed his back and let out a breath of her own before she stepped back and met his eyes.

"I want to help you, Jude. I really do," she said, her voice laced with compassion but also firm. "If I tell you what to do… well then I should be the one seeing her.” Whitney smiled. “But you’ve got to make a decision for yourself. Take action, real action, on your own." Jude swallowed hard, sensing there was more she wanted to say. And there was. "If you can’t put in the effort on your own merit…" Whitney hesitated, hating that she even had to say it, but she knew it was the truth you needed to hear. "Maybe it’s not right for her. Maybe you don’t deserve her." Jude’s face fell, his eyes shutting tightly against the sting of her words. They were brutal, but he knew deep down they were right. Every step he had taken up until now had been half-hearted, marked by insecurity and fear. But those steps had led him to lose you.

"I know," he whispered, the admission feeling like the hardest thing he’d ever said. He opened his eyes, filled with determination but clouded by regret. "I’m going to fix it. I have to fix it all." Whitney watched him, hoping against hope that this time he meant it—not in the shallow, fleeting way he’d tried to patch things up before, but genuinely. She could see the fight in him, but she had seen it before, and it had never been enough. Jude was always good at grand gestures, but this time, she needed him to be good at the small, meaningful actions too.

"You better mean it this time," Whitney said, though her voice was softer now, more gentle than before. She wanted to believe him. Jude stood up straighter, his fists unclenching as he let out a long breath.

"I do. I swear, I’ll do it right." He pulled Whitney into a hug, one filled with unspoken gratitude. When they pulled apart, Jude asked, "But will you help? With the… you know, the finer details. The stuff that isn’t make-or-break, but would… I don’t know, make it all feel special. Like, a nice gloss over the top?" Whitney smiled softly, shaking her head at his typical Jude manner of wanting things to be perfect, even in chaos.

"Of course, of course," she said, her voice warmer now, filled with the hope she had buried earlier. "You know I’m a sucker for a good love story." Jude chuckled lightly, though the gravity of the situation never really left.

"Thanks, Whit. I’ll figure out the rest. I have to. For her." Whitney gave him one last encouraging squeeze on the shoulder, her voice soft.

"Make sure it’s not just about fixing things, Jude. Make sure it’s about growing up. Loving her for real. You owe her that." Jude nodded, his eyes serious, carrying the weight of everything he had lost and everything he still had to prove. Whitney stood there, watching as he steeled himself, silently praying that this time, he’d really be the man you deserved.The air in the kitchen was still thick with uncertainty, Whitney hoped more than anything that this wasn’t just another fleeting attempt. You deserved more than that. As Jude stood there, lost in the weight of his thoughts, Trent strolled into the kitchen with his usual easygoing smile. Without missing a beat, he threw his arms around Jude in a goofy hug.

"Wow baby, really been bulking up, huh?" Trent teased, pulling back and laughing at his own dad joke.

"You’re hilarious." Jude let out a small, tired chuckle, shaking Trent off him along with a disapproving kiss of his teeth. Whitney, standing nearby, smiled, rolling her eyes at Trent’s antics. She could always count on him to bring lightness to the room, even when things felt heavy. Trent playfully shoved Jude in the shoulder before turning to wrap his arms around Whitney, kissing her cheek in that affectionate, natural way of his.

“You know, mate, it’ll be alright. If you work at it." As he pulled away, he turned back to Jude, his expression softening, but still carrying that calm confidence Trent always had. Jude glanced at him, taking in his words. There was something comforting in how Trent said it, like a quiet reminder that not everything was lost. But it was the way Trent looked at Whitney when he spoke that made Jude stop and really listen. Trent kissed Whitney on the cheek again, grinning as she rolled her eyes but smiled at him all the same. "Good ones," Trent added, his eyes still on Whitney, "take work." Jude's chest tightened, his eyes flickering between the two of them. There was an undeniable truth in Trent’s words, something simple but powerful. He could see it in the way Trent looked at Whitney, the ease of their relationship, built on years of effort, love, and mutual care. It wasn’t easy, but it was real. Jude swallowed hard, nodding slowly as the realization sank deeper. He had to work for it. He had to fight for it. You were worth that, more than worth it.

"Yeah," Jude murmured, his voice rough with emotion. "I know." Trent clapped him on the back, a supportive gesture that said more than words could. Jude gave him a faint smile, appreciating the quiet wisdom in the moment. It wasn’t going to be easy, but nothing worth having ever was. As Trent and Whitney shared a look, both of them hoping Jude would finally figure out what he needed to do, Jude stood there, taking in the moment. He felt a spark of something he hadn’t in a while—hope. And maybe, just maybe, that was enough to start fixing things.

Your apartment was quiet, too quiet. It felt suffocating in the silence that followed your final goodbye to Jude. The words had spilled from your lips before you could stop them, before you could even fully comprehend them. 'I’m done,' you had said, your voice cold, detached. But when you returned home, the weight of it all came crashing down. You hadn’t meant it— maybe not entirely, a part of you knew very well that you wouldn’t ever be ‘done’ with Jude. But your heart was bleeding beneath all the bandages you were trying to wrap it in, and you didn’t know how to stop the pain. Jude had hurt you, over and over, and now it felt like the only thing you could do was push him away before he could break you further. The worst part was that when you told him you were done, you broke your own heart even more. Sitting on your bed, you buried your face in your hands, trying to hold back the sobs that were already clawing their way up your throat. You never cried before you had met Jude. You were always the strong one, always the one to hold it together. But Jude had shattered that, broken down every wall you’d spent years building. Since you met him, it felt like you’d done nothing but cry. Your chest heaved as the tears came anyway, silent and unstoppable. You wanted the world to swallow you up, to take the pain away because it was too much to bear. You were drowning in the ache, in the loss, in the thought that maybe, just maybe, you had lost the one person who made you feel like you were truly seen.

On the other side of the Atlantic, Jude sat in his own room, staring blankly at the floor. His phone was in his hand, the screen dark now, but your voice—your words—echoed in his head. 'I’m done.' He hadn’t believed it, not at first. But the longer he sat there, the more it sank in. You were really gone. He felt like the world had shifted beneath him, like he was untethered, drifting in a void. Everything was harder without you. Breathing, moving, thinking—everything felt like a monumental effort. You had become a part of him, and now that part was ripped away, leaving him raw and exposed. Jude ran a hand over his hair, frustration and despair mixing in a sickening cocktail of emotions. He’d tried to make you understand how much you meant to him, but he’d failed. Words weren’t nearly enough. He had pushed you away without even realizing it, and now he was paying the price. You were his everything, and he had let you slip through his fingers.

In your apartment, you curled up on the bed, pulling the covers around you as if they could shield you from the emptiness that was swallowing you whole. Your heart ached, every beat a reminder of what you had lost—or rather, what you had forced yourself to lose. Jude was still there, in the back of your mind, in every corner of your soul, but you had pushed him away. You had to. It was the only way to protect yourself. It felt like you were dying inside. You had never loved anyone the way you loved Jude. It hit you like a tidal wave, the realization slamming into you with full force. This was love. This was what all the poets and songwriters and dreamers talked about. The kind of love that took everything from you and gave you everything in return. The kind of love that tore you apart and put you back together, all at once. And you were pushing it away.

Jude stayed sat, tears burning in his eyes as he stared at the floor. He had never wanted anything as much as he wanted you. But now, the distance between you felt insurmountable. The silence was deafening, the space between you growing with every minute that passed. It was as if you were moving in parallel, both of you hurting, both of you broken, but never able to meet in the middle. That was the cruelest thing about parallel lines—they never intersect. No matter how close they run, they remain apart.

You sobbed into your pillow, your chest tight with the weight of it all. You had found love—real, heart-wrenching, soul-deep love—and now, like a masochist, you were destroying it because you couldn’t bear his idiodic behavior. You were so mad that Jude had made it so hard. You had pushed him away, told him you were done, when the truth was you were anything but. You loved him more than you had ever thought possible, and it terrified you. And now you were alone, both of you suffering, both of you desperate for the other, but too afraid, too hurt to bridge the gap. The world outside moved on, oblivious to the two souls shattered in their separate spaces, each aching, each lost. And for the first time, you weren’t sure if you would ever find your way back to each other.

Jude and Aurelian were running through a drill at training, side by side, both focused on the task at hand but equally caught in conversation.

"So, when's she coming back to Madrid?" Aurelian casually asked. Jude, distracted by the passing drill, shot him a quick glance.

"Who?" He knew exactly who Aurelian was talking about, but his chest tightened at the thought of you.

"You know, her. I mentioned the party, but it seemed like she hadn’t heard about it." Aurelian’s voice was light, but there was something behind it, like he wasn’t just asking casually. Jude’s brow furrowed as he made another pass.

“What party?” Jude’s voice was sharp, unable to mask the frustration brewing inside him. Aurelian shrugged, chasing after the ball.

"My birthday, bro. I invited her. She said she was working a lot lately, though, seemed busy." His words were clipped between breaths as he jogged alongside Jude, unaware of the storm building. Jude’s steps faltered for a second. He missed a beat, his mind racing.

"How do you know that?" His voice came out more demanding than he meant. Aurelian gave him a side glance.

"I told you. I invited her to my birthday. She's her own person, no? Inviting you wouldn't mean I invited her." He tossed the comment lightly, but Jude could feel the weight of it sinking into him. With minimal thought, Jude rocketed the ball towards the goal, but it went flying high, way over the post, disappearing into the stands. Aurelian noticed the change in Jude’s demeanor immediately—his body stiffened, and his expression darkened. Aurelian felt the shift, sensing the tension wasn’t really aimed at him but at something much bigger. The ball wasn't the only thing that had skyrocketed—Jude’s emotions had clearly spun out of control. Jude’s jealousy was practically radiating off him. "You alright?" Aurelian asked, trying to gauge how deep this ran. He could feel the heat of Jude’s anger simmering under the surface. Jude clenched his fists, trying to ground himself, but his thoughts were spinning. You were talking to everyone—Whitney, Trent, Winnie—but not him. And now, Aurelian? The fact that you were having conversations with someone he trained with daily, sharing things about your life, things that Jude felt he should know, made his blood boil.

"Yeah, I’m fine," Jude muttered, but his face was hard, his jaw tight. He wasn’t fine. Far from it. Aurelian nodded but didn’t push. He could feel the jealousy rolling off Jude in waves, and while he didn’t want to be the source of it, he understood. After all, it was clear Jude still had feelings for you. Jude’s mind raced as they continued their drills, his body on autopilot while his thoughts spun out of control. You hadn’t mentioned the party to him. You hadn’t mentioned anything. It felt like everyone in his life knew more about you than he did, and it stung. Aurelian’s words echoed in his head: ‘She's her own person after all.’ That statement rattled him more than anything else. Jude, feeling the heat of jealousy and confusion, was quick to blurt out, "So, are you trying to pursue something with her?" His voice cracked slightly as he tried to maintain a calm exterior, but it was evident that his emotions were getting the best of him. Aurelian stopped mid-drill, looking at Jude like he’d lost his mind.

“What? No, bro. I mean, yeah, she’s sexy.” Jude winced. “She’s really attractive but… you were with her, weren’t you? Or at least, you were.” He shrugged, baffled at the insinuation. But Jude, unable to stop himself, continued to ramble. His words came out fast, almost panicked, as if saying them out loud would somehow justify his own feelings or even ease the burning jealousy coursing through him.

"I get it, you both speak French and all, but do you even know what she’s like? She’s way too good for—" He stopped, realizing what he was about to say. Aurelian raised an eyebrow, intrigued but letting Jude continue. Jude, realizing he’d opened Pandora’s box, kept talking, listing all the reasons why you were amazing, how intelligent you were, how thoughtful and creative. He rambled about your quirks, how you liked your coffee with just the right amount of cream, how you’d stay up late sketching, your laugh, your ridiculous but charming wit. His voice cracked as he started talking about how you deserved someone who would pay attention to all of that, someone who would cherish every part of you, never take you for granted. And then it hit him—he was describing all the ways he should have taken care of you. The way he should have been with you from the start. The way you deserved to be treated. He froze, mid-sentence, the weight of it all crashing down on him. The image of you floated in his mind, standing there with that duffel bag your dad had gifted you, and how you’d once described it with such admiration. You’d talked about how it was made with so much care, each detail meticulously thought out, each stitch precise. Jude realized, in that moment, that the way he should’ve treated you was the same way you described that duffel bag. With reverence. With attention to detail. With care. And he hadn’t. Before Jude could even process the revelation, Aurelian laughed, stepping up to the ball and striking it with precision. It sailed smoothly into the goal, perfectly nestled into the net. At the same time, Jude's shot, born from frustration and confusion, clanged hard off the crossbar, echoing through the empty training ground. The sound hung in the air, sharp and unforgiving. Call it irony.

"You know, Jude," he said, wiping the sweat from his forehead, "clearly, she is too good for you." Aurelian turned back to Jude, a smirk tugging at the corner of his mouth. Jude's eyes snapped to Aurelian’s, his chest tightening. Aurelian continued, his voice calm but pointed, "You had a wide-open goal, mate, and all you’ve done is hit the post." The metaphor hit Jude harder than the ball hitting the crossbar. He stood there, speechless, the truth of Aurelian’s words sinking in. You were too good for him. You were always too good for him, and in his insecurity, he’d let you slip through his fingers. Jude's hands clenched into fists by his sides once more, frustration burning in his chest. Aurelian was right. Jude had the perfect opportunity, the perfect person, and he fumbled it. Now, you were talking to other people—Aurelian, Whitney, Trent—and he was stuck watching from the sidelines, knowing he had no one to blame but himself. Aurelian watched Jude’s face, the conflict playing out in his features. With a more serious tone, he added, “Look, bro, it’s not about me. It never was. But if you don’t get your head on straight, someone’s going to step up and treat her right. Maybe not me, but someone will. You’ve got to figure out if you're gonna be that person—or keep missing the goal.” Jude swallowed hard, the weight of the realization crashing down on him like a tidal wave. He had to fix this. But for the first time, he wasn’t sure if it was even possible. You deserved more than he’d given, and if he didn’t act soon, you’d find someone who would.

You had ignored Jude for ages but he continually checked in with Whitney to at least make sure you had a pulse. He had thought about calling or texting a million times but he just couldn’t do it. It felt too menial. In a haze of exhaustion and heartbreak Jude decided to send you a gift. Jude had never bought art before, but this time, he knew it had to be different. Jewelry or a purse wouldn’t cut it; they were too shallow, too ordinary. He needed something that spoke to you, something that communicated how he felt in a way words never could. That’s how he found himself diving into the unfamiliar world of art, navigating galleries, and dealers, determined to find something that would reflect the depth of his feelings for you.

So when a large package arrived at your door, the deliveryman insisting on a signature, you were understandably confused. The box was massive, covered in bold warning labels about careful handling. Your heart raced with a mix of curiosity and confusion as you brought it inside. It was no ordinary package. As you carefully unboxed it, peeling away layer after layer, you finally revealed the painting. It was large, vibrant, alive with a serene energy that filled the room. Jules Olitski’s 'Beauty of Angels'. Your jaw dropped. For a moment, you wondered if it had been sent to the wrong address, maybe meant for your gallery. But even then, it was impossible to fathom—it was priceless. You stood there, staring at the painting. It was contemporary, beautiful, and yet, somehow serene. The way the colors seemed to dance across the canvas, soft and yet striking—it felt like it was holding something deeper, something that called out to your soul. And then, you noticed the card. A small, simple envelope tucked beside the frame. Your fingers trembled as you opened it reading the title of the work, Beauty of Angels. Your heart shattered. Jude. He had sent this. The title of the painting felt like a punch to the chest. You weren’t supposed to be his angel. Not after everything. Not after the hurt and betrayal that still clung to the edges of your relationship. And yet, here you were, standing before this breathtaking piece of art that he had chosen for you. You held the card in your hand, staring down at it, feeling a wave of emotions rush through you—pain, longing, confusion, and an ache that you hadn’t let yourself feel in weeks. It was a grand gesture, yes, but it was more than that. It was his way of trying to communicate, to reach you in a way that words had failed. But the irony of it all was almost too much to bear. You didn’t feel like anyone’s angel. If anything, you felt further from it than you ever had before. The cracks in your heart, the jagged edges of your hurt, made you feel anything but angelic. And yet, here was Jude, sending you something so personal, so profound. It was like he had seen something in you that you couldn’t see in yourself anymore. You stood there, your heart aching as you looked at the painting again. It was beautiful, yes. But it also felt like a reminder of everything you had lost. Of everything that had once been and everything that could never be again. The room felt heavy with the weight of it all, and you had to sit down, the card still clutched in your hand. The painting stared back at you, a testament to how Jude saw you—even now, even after everything. But was it enough? Could it ever be enough to heal the wounds, to fix what had been broken? You weren’t sure. But for the first time in a long while, you let yourself feel the sadness, the longing, and the love you still had for him. The painting was beautiful, but the emotions it stirred in you were even more powerful. And despite everything, a part of you couldn’t help but wish you were still his angel. Even though you knew you weren’t.

You stared at the painting for what felt like an eternity pacing around it and your apartment for what felt like hours, the walls feeling like they were closing in on you. The city buzzed outside, cars honking, people shouting, but you were lost in the quiet chaos of your thoughts. Jude's name glowed on your phone screen, your thumb hovering over the call button. Every second that passed felt like another nail in the coffin of whatever this had been between you two. Weeks had gone by since you left Madrid, and the memories still cut deep. That night. The arguments. The coldness in his eyes when he couldn't even say your name. You hadn't intended to call him today; you told yourself that the space was necessary, that you needed to move on. But the ache in your chest never went away, and you couldn’t hold back any longer. You wanted closure. No—you needed it. You needed to hear him admit that it had all been for nothing, that you hadn’t meant what you thought you did. Finally, your thumb pressed down, and the phone rang. Each ring was like a countdown to the moment you weren’t sure you could handle. The silence between you was about to be broken at last. When he finally answered, his voice came through soft, tentative.

“Y/N,” Jude’s voice was soft, full of emotion that he had been hiding from you until now. “I’ve missed you… so much.” Just hearing his voice made your heart skip. For a brief moment, all the hurt and anger melted away, and it felt like home. Like all those nights lying beside him, talking about nothing, just listening to the sound of his breath as he slept next to you. But that feeling was fleeting, replaced quickly by the cold reality that had driven you both apart.

"Hi," you replied, trying to keep your voice steady, but you could hear the waver in it. You had told yourself this was going to be a calm conversation, a way to smooth things over, to leave on good terms. But the minute you heard him, all the old wounds felt fresh again. “I’m sorry I left the way I did.” Your own voice catching slightly. A part of you raged that you just apologized to him. Another part of you wondered if he had slept with someone else to relieve the blue balls you had left him with.

“I’m sorry I gave you a reason to leave,” Jude replied, his sincerity evident. “I should’ve told you what you mean to me, but I was scared. I still am, but I can’t stand not talking to you.” You felt your heart swell with a mix of emotions—relief, sadness, hope.

“I was scared too, Jude. I didn’t want to get hurt but you’ve hurt me anyway though.” You sighed. This conversation almost felt like it was too quick for you though. Jude was too eager to fix it all.

“There’s been a lot of hurt lately…” Jude began and that planted a seed. “ I don’t want to hurt you,” Jude said, his voice firm despite the vulnerability behind it. “I want to make things right. I want to be the man you need, Y/N.” There was a pause, both of you taking in the weight of what had been said. This wasn’t an easy fix, but it was a start—a chance to bridge the gap that had formed between you.

“I don’t know what happens next,” you finally said, your voice steady.

“I’m not letting go of this,” Jude replied, determination in his voice. “I’m not letting go of you.” And with that, the silence between you was broken, the first steps toward something new, something real, finally being taken. As the phone call continued, the initial relief you felt from hearing Jude’s voice began to dissipate. Jude’s voice, which had always been so steady, so confident, now carried a different tone—one you weren't prepared for. “Y/N,” Jude began, a hint of nervousness in his voice. “I’ve been thinking… a lot, actually. I don’t want to lose you. I want to give this a real shot. I like you, Y/N. More than I’ve ever liked anyone.” You felt your heart shrivel up in that moment. You wanted an 'I love you.' Those words hung in the air, and instead of bringing comfort, they sent a cold rush through your veins. Suddenly, everything felt too real, too fast. Your mind snapped back to all the things you’d been trying to ignore—the doubts, the fears, the reasons you’d tried to keep Jude at arm’s length.

“No,” you blurted out, your voice sharper than you intended. “I can’t do this, Jude. Look, I appreciate the painting, it’s amazing and so thoughtful but I just can’t.” It was like the walls Jude had broken down, the ones that you were currently working on building back up were encased in steel buried deep in the ground now.

“What do you mean?” Jude asked, confusion and hurt beginning to seep into his voice. “Why not?”

“It’s just… it’s all stupid, Jude,” you said, your voice cracking with a mix of frustration and fear. “This whole thing—it’s just been stupid sex.” Jude felt like the ground had been pulled out from under him. You didn’t believe that in totality but you needed to pull the plug.

“Stupid sex? Y/N, you know it’s more than that.” Jude was so offended. He knew he was in the wrong but god did it hurt to hear you say that. Why did you call then? When he saw your name appear on his phone he thought the chasm had begun to yield.

“Is it?” You shot back, your emotions spiraling out of control. “Or am I just another one of your conquests? Another girl you’ll get bored of and move on from? Another girl you treat like shit. It took you no time at all really to find another one of me.” You snapped.

“That’s not true,” Jude insisted, desperation creeping into his tone. “I’ve never felt this way about anyone before, Y/N. You’re different.” He felt sick to his stomach.

“Different?” You echoed, your voice rising. “How am I different, Jude? You think I don’t know what you’re really like? I know about all the women before me, the playboy lifestyle. You’re just saying this now because you’re used to getting what you want, and you can’t stand the idea of someone saying no to you.” Jude was reeling, struggling to keep up with the barrage of accusations.

“Y/N, that’s not fair. I know I’ve made mistakes, but it’s different with you. I’m not trying to play games. I want to be with you—really be with you.” He mused in panic. His voice was shaking. But you couldn’t hear him over the roar of her own insecurities. You felt tears burning in your eyes, but you refused to let them fall. You wouldn’t let yourself be vulnerable, not now, not anymore.

“No, Jude,” you said, your voice trembling with the effort of holding yourself together. “It’s too much. I don’t want this—I don’t want you.” You cried, your heart breaking for the millionth time. It hurt saying something you didn't entirely believe. You did want Jude.

“Y/N, don’t do this,” Jude pleaded, his heart breaking alongside yours with every word you spoke. “Please, don’t push me away.” But it was too late. The walls you had built around your heart were snapping back into place, and you couldn’t let yourself break them down again.

“All I do is cry not. You shouldn’t make me cry!” you said, your voice breaking as tears began to stream down your face. “I never cry. This isn’t what I want, Jude. I’m sorry.” You apologized and you weren’t sure why. Jude was silent, the weight of your words settling like a stone on his chest. He wanted to fight for you, to convince you that you could make this work, but the pain in your voice was too much to bear.

“I don't want to make you cry. I’m sorry,” he finally whispered, his voice thick with emotion. "I’m really glad you called though," Jude said, his voice quieter now, as if he were afraid to say too much. He was trying to revert the conversation back on course. "I’ve been thinking about you. About… us though." The way he said "us" made your stomach churn. Us. Was there ever really an us? Or had it just been you, constantly trying to be enough, constantly trying to get him to see you? All you ever wanted was for him to acknowledge what you were to him, but he never could. And now, hearing him say those words, that he had been thinking about us, it made your anger flare.

"Jude," you began, taking a deep breath, "what are we even doing?" There was tension in your tone. There had been a momentary lull but you were about to kick off in a way Jude probably wasn’t prepared for.

"What do you mean?" His voice tightened, like he already knew where this was headed but was hoping to stall the inevitable.

"I mean, what is this? What have we been doing all this time?" Your voice rose slightly, the frustration that had been building for weeks spilling over. "I’ve been here, waiting for you to tell me something, anything. And you’ve given me nothing. Nothing that I can hold on to... And today, I mean the painting is gorgeous. You already knew I’d like it but…." You sighed. You genuinely loved the painting but you were avoiding the word love at all costs at the moment. You felt embarrassed that you did love him at the minute but should the circumstances be different you would’ve swooned over someone buying you art like this.

"I’ve told you, you mean something to me," he said, his voice pleading now, as if that was supposed to be enough. But that was the problem. That had always been the problem. You weren’t just something. You were so much more, and he never saw it. Or if he did, he was too afraid to admit it.

"That’s not enough," you snapped, your voice cracking. "Do you hear yourself? ‘You mean something to me’? That’s what you’ve been saying for months. Do you even know what that means? Because to me, it feels like nothing." You quipped. He was quiet on the other end, and you could feel your heart racing, your emotions boiling over. You had held back for so long, tried to be patient, tried to understand where he was coming from. But now, it was all crashing down, and you couldn’t stop yourself. "I’ve been waiting for you, Jude," you continued, your voice shaking. "I’ve been waiting for you to tell me how you really feel, to be brave for once and just say it. I’ve given up so much for you. I left New York. I stayed in Madrid. And for what? For you to keep stringing me along with vague promises that I mean something to you?"

"I never wanted to hurt you," Jude said, his voice strained, like he was trying to hold it together. "I just… I don’t know how to say it." The tears were gathering on his water line. This felt very much like the beginning of the end. Jude really hoped that this wasn’t the way this conversation would go but a part of him also wasn’t all that surprised. He knew he had wronged you.

"That’s the problem!" you shouted, unable to hold back the tears that were now threatening to spill over. "You never know how to say it. You never know how to tell me what I mean to you. I’ve been bending over backwards for you, trying to be patient, trying to be enough, but it’s never enough for you, is it? Never enough for you to tell me." Jude’s breath hitched on the other end, and for a moment, you thought he might say it. That he might finally say the words you’d been aching to hear for so long.

"I… I’m trying to show you that I care. I don’t want to lose you." But instead, he stammered. Your heart clenched painfully at his words, and the tears finally spilled over again.

"But you already have." You bluntly told him. The silence that followed was suffocating. You could hear your own breathing, heavy and ragged, and you knew that he was on the other end, feeling just as broken as you. Jude had to mute his phone for a moment for the sob that he felt ready to escape him. He couldn’t breathe properly. But he still couldn’t say it. He couldn’t give you the one thing you needed.

"I…" he started again, but the words faltered. You felt like he was never going to say it. He never would. Why couldn't he say it? Jude was wondered the same thing. It would feel unfair to say now. You almost worried he would say it in a last ditch effort and you didn't want it that way.

"I don’t think I can do this anymore," you whispered, your voice barely audible as the tears continued to fall. "I can’t keep waiting for you to figure out how you feel about me. I can’t keep holding onto something that’s never going to be what I need." Jude was silent again, and you could feel the finality of it all sinking in. This was it. Whatever had been between you, whether it was a relationship or some undefined situationship, it was over. The love you both refused to name had shattered into pieces, and there was no going back now.

“Y/N, angel. Please. Can we… Please it hurts me to think that I'll only got to know you this long. I want more. I’ll give you a lifetime of me, please.” Jude muttered terribly upset and terribly aware this was it.

“Jude, please know that for the past few weeks I have imagined you imagining me. It's been the only thing that would soothes me. Dreaming you’d want more but… I know now that it’s just been a dream. You have been my favorite almost… really” You whimpered, tears running. "I’m sorry," you whispered, your voice trembling with the weight of the words. "I’m so sorry, Jude." And before he could say anything, before you could hear the regret in his voice or the words he couldn’t find, you hung up. You stood there in the middle of your apartment, phone in hand, tears streaming down your face, knowing that it was done. Whatever you had with Jude, whatever it had been, was gone. You loved him. You had loved him with everything you had, and now you had to let him go. Jude sat in his room, the emptiness around him mirrored in the ache inside his chest. He loved you and never told you. The ache in your own chest was unbearable, but you knew it was the only way. The relationship—or whatever it was—had ended, not with a grand declaration of love, but with silence. The silence that had always been between you, unspoken and unresolved.

And now, you had to learn how to live without it. Without him.

🪩🫶❤️‍🔥🍹🌞🍒 Thank you for reading! Please like, comment, or message what you think of the chapter 🍒🌞🍹❤️‍🔥🫶🪩

Next part - Chapter 10 xx

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