#( and he's lazy when he wants to be not by nature )

[rafeyssugar]

hard launch ²

rafe cameron x black reader

y/n isn’t new to breaking the internet. she’s done it before—plenty of times. but this? this is different.

because this time, rafe is in the picture.

literally.

her phone buzzes non-stop, the comments stacking up like wildfire. the internet is losing its mind, dissecting every second of that clip—the way his hands move, the way he grips, the way he just knows her.

it’s all too easy to ignore. that is, until she sees his name in her notifications.

@rafe.cameron reposted your video.

her stomach drops.

“rafe.” she twists around in his lap, staring up at him. he barely looks away from the screen, fingers moving deftly over his controller.

“mm?”

“why did you repost it?”

he smirks, eyes flickering down at her before he focuses back on his game. “'cause i wanted to.”

she glares. “that’s not an answer.”

he hums, fingers flexing against her thighs, dragging his thumbs up and down in slow, lazy strokes. “you worried about people knowing you’re mine, baby?”

y/n’s lips part, breath catching slightly. he always does this—says things like that, casual and confident, like it’s the most natural thing in the world.

“you are mine, y’know,” he continues, tilting his head at her, all teasing and cocky. “not like it’s a secret.”

she huffs, crossing her arms. “you’re annoying.”

his smirk deepens. “yeah? but you love me.”

she rolls her eyes, trying to shift off his lap, but he doesn’t let her, arms wrapping tight around her waist.

and then her phone buzzes again.

@rafe.cameron: girlfriend.

➝ THE HANDS. THE TOUCH. THE SOFTNESS. WE ARE NOT OKAY. ➝ y’all better not break up bc i’m INVESTED. ➝ she got rafe cameron in a soft grip. i fear she’s too powerful. ➝ @rafe.cameron: i been gone. she been had me.

➝ @sarah.cameron: welcome to the family, y/n 🤍 (rafe is insufferable; sorry in advance.) ➝ @pope.heyward: historical moment. might put this in my thesis. ➝ @rafe.cameron: y’all act like this wasn’t obvious. be serious. ➝ @johnb.routledge: obvious? bro, you just told the whole world 😭

➝ COMMENTS DISABLED.

her jaw drops.

“rafe—”

but he’s already grinning, looking so smug, so pleased with himself, and she hates that she can’t even be mad about it.

not when his hands are on her. not when his lips find her neck. not when he’s whispering, all soft and knowing—

"s’bout time, huh?"

a/n: im fucking in love with this

[mashtatosworld]

the pursuit

summary: you met him on the set of 'lets not fall in love' - yet you did everything but that

*the start of the 'back to you' series

You’d barely stepped onto set when you felt it - the way his gaze found you immediately, lingering long enough to make your stomach tighten.

Gdragon didn’t introduce himself at first.

He didn’t need to.

He just leaned against the edge of a prop wall, cigarette tucked between his fingers, assessing you.

You weren’t an actress - you’d made that abundantly clear when your agency first floated the idea of you being GDragon’s partner for the Let’s Not Fall In Love video.

But they assured you it would be natural, just soft glances and playful moments, no choreography, no lines - just chemistry.

The kind that could make viewers believe something was there even if nothing was.

And he made that easy.

You tried not to look at him too much between takes. Tried not to focus on the way his gaze felt heavy on your skin, even when you weren’t the one in front of the camera.

GDragon was effortless - a natural magnet, pulling attention with every charming grin. You were… not.

You were new to the industry.

Shiny and unsure, trying to fit yourself into the shape of someone who belonged here.

The rain scene was the worst of it.

Cold water cascading down as you held each other, his hand firm on your waist, the other trailing along your wrist until your fingers intertwined. His touch was light, barely there - but somehow you felt it everywhere.

It was like your body was naturally drawn to his heat.

You were shivering, trying to hide it, smile frozen and cheeks aching. You could feel his nose skim the side of your face, his damp shirt clinging to his chest.

The camera rolled, but all you could think about was how his thumb felt on your hip, firm, and anchoring.

“Cut! Take a break everyone.”

You exhaled sharply, stepping back so fast you almost tripped over the cables. Jiyong stayed still, watching you, tongue running over his lower lip - like he was about to say something, then thought better of it.

It was only when you were wrapped in a towel, sat to the side, waiting for them to release you as they reviewed the footage that he finally approached.

You didn’t expect him to notice your notebook.

You’d been scribbling between takes, half to distract yourself from how intensely aware you were of him, and half because songwriting was your real passion - even if your label didn’t believe you were ready yet.

Jiyong slid onto the bench beside you, casually resting his arms on his legs as he glanced at your lap. “What are you always writing in there?”

You froze. “Just... ideas.”

“For songs?” His brow lifted, curiosity flickering through the playful smile.

You nodded, heart hammering. “I want to focus more on music than modelling. But it's not any good - ”

“Let me see.” He held out his hand, palm up, fingers adorned with silver rings.

You hesitated.

He’d written some of the most iconic songs of the decade - his praise could make or break you. But something about the way he was watching you, genuinely interested, made you slowly pass him the notebook.

He read in silence, brow furrowed, thumb tracing the corner of the page. When he looked up, his smile had softened. “These are good.”

You blinked. “Really?”

“Really,” he said, closing the notebook and tapping it against his knee. “Come to my studio sometime. I’ll help.”

“Why would you do that?” You meant it as a genuine question. He was at the peak of his career, churning out songs for his solo album and band. And you were... a ripple in his ocean.

His smile turned lazy, teasing. “Because I want to.”

And somehow, that was enough.

𓆩♡𓆪 𓆩♡𓆪 𓆩♡𓆪

You told yourself he’d forget - that it was just a line, something to pass the time between takes. But a day later, your phone lit up with a notification.

[unknown number] Still want help? - Jiyong

You debated ignoring it.

Every article you’d ever read about him flashed through your mind - the scandals, on-again-off-again exes, the late-night clubs. But you rationalised your thoughts.

It wasn't like you were going to get personal with him. This would be strictly business...

So you messaged back.

And you were glad you had ignored the influence of media headlines because the first session was when you truly met Jiyong, not GDragon.

You hovered near the door of his studio, notebook clutched to your chest like a shield. He was different here - hair messy, hoodie low over his face, cigarette dangling from his fingers and a casual smile that only grew when he saw you.

“You’re late.”

“I wasn’t sure I should come.”

His smile didn’t falter. “I'm glad you did.”

You sat beside him, the scent of leather and smoke and something distinctly him wrapping around you. He didn’t rush. Didn’t push. Just played a beat, soft and stripped down, and said, “Sing something.”

Your throat was dry, hands shaking - but you did.

𓆩♡𓆪 𓆩♡𓆪 𓆩♡𓆪

It was always late when he called.

You’d be lying in bed, makeup off, notebook balanced on your knees, when your phone would light up.

[jiyong] Studio tonight x

No please. No explanation. Just an offer you somehow always accepted.

He’d be sprawled on the couch, cigarette smouldering in the ashtray, laptop open with half-finished beats echoing softly.

“I've got a new idea,” he’d say, voice rough from hours of talking to no one.

You’d sit next to him - never too close, yet as time would pass his knee would somehow be pressed against yours. It felt deliberate. Everything with him felt deliberate.

You were writing one night - half asleep, pen dragging across the page - when you felt it.

His fingers.

Just the tips, playing with the ends of your hair. Light, curious, like he wasn’t even thinking about it.

You didn’t pull away.

Neither did he.

𓆩♡𓆪 𓆩♡𓆪 𓆩♡𓆪

He didn’t hide his interest. Not even a little.

There was no slow-build - no confusing signals.

Jiyong wanted you, in a way that made it impossible to pretend you were imagining things.

“You’re scared of me.” He said it casually, during your third session after he had pulled your chair closer to his - dragging it by the legs.

“No, I’m not.”

“Liar.”

You glared at him, but he just grinned, all bad-boy charm and impossible warmth. “You’ll get used to me.”

He wasn’t wrong.

𓆩♡𓆪 𓆩♡𓆪 𓆩♡𓆪

The song - your song - dropped a week after Let’s Not Fall In Love hit the charts.

He had gifted it to you, passing over the rights entirely despite his effort and inputs. It was yours to do as you pleased.

You decided against a music video or promotional press, just a quiet link posted on Jiyong’s Instagram at 3:14am with no caption.

By noon, it was trending.

The comments were split - some fans insisting you were the new girl he was seeing, others trying to figure out who the hell you were. No one could agree on what you were to him. A muse? A collaborator? A random model who got lucky?

You knew the truth - you were his project.

His distraction.

The shiny new thing he couldn’t stop poking at.

You kept a measured distance, even as your inbox filled with interview requests and producers asking to meet. You hadn’t expected this to happen - not so fast, not this loud.

Your agency was thrilled.

They called you "lucky."

You weren’t sure luck was the word.

This was a pursuit.

𓆩♡𓆪 𓆩♡𓆪 𓆩♡𓆪

The rumours started when someone caught you leaving his building at 5am, his jacket hanging off your shoulders.

Your agency had freaked out.

“It’s nothing,” you said in a meeting the next day, heart pounding as you forced yourself to sound casual. “We’re just writing.”

They didn’t believe you.

You didn’t believe you.

Because “just writing” didn’t explain the way he leaned into you when you sat at the mic, adjusting your headphones himself, fingers lingering against your jaw.

“Just writing” didn’t explain how he always walked you to the elevator, even when there were a dozen staff around who could’ve done it.

“Just writing” didn’t explain why your heart pounded every time you saw his name light up your phone.

𓆩♡𓆪 𓆩♡𓆪 𓆩♡𓆪

The first time you performed your duet you were shaking so badly you nearly dropped the mic.

It was meant to be a one-off stage appearence.

A fan treat.

A casual collaboration.

But he added it as a staple part of his setlist.

The moment Jiyong walked out, hand in pocket, signature smirk pulling at his lips, the crowd screamed like they already knew what was to come.

He stood too close.

His eyes followed your every move.

And when the bridge hit, his hand found your lower back, pulling you into him like the cameras didn’t exist.

When the performance ended, he leaned down and whispered, “See? Told you we’re perfect together.”

𓆩♡𓆪 𓆩♡𓆪 𓆩♡𓆪

The internet spiralled.

Edits of you and Jiyong flooded every corner of social media - the rain scene from the music video, the too-close moments on stage, the way his hand never quite left your body. Every time he looked at you, fans slowed it down, captioning it:

He’s obsessed.

He’s soft.

He’s in love.

You tried to brush it off.

At first, you were worried he’d hate the rumours - the idea of being tied to a rookie, someone unproven, someone with no legacy.

But instead, he leaned into it.

He started requesting you at festivals.

He refused to perform the song with anyone else.

And during interviews, when asked about his ideal type, he’d just laugh - low and knowing - and say, “Who do you think?”

He was pursuing you in public, no apologies, no caution.

And it worked.

𓆩♡𓆪 𓆩♡𓆪 𓆩♡𓆪

Within months, the rumours stopped being rumours.

You were inseparable - a constant presence at each other’s sides, onstage and off. The industry might’ve called you reckless, but neither of you cared.

It was fast.

It was intense.

It was everything.

And by the time he slipped that ring on your finger, eight months after your first songs release - in a quiet moment between tour stops, both of you tangled up in the same hotel bed you hadn’t left all day - you knew.

You’d never stood a chance.

𓆩♡𓆪 𓆩♡𓆪 𓆩♡𓆪

no wonder she's so loved, diva was ten years in the making!

taglist: @petersasteria, @mirahyun , @allthoughtsmindfull , @gdinthehouseee , @infinetlyforgotten , @redhoodedtoad , @kathaelipwse , @lxvemaze , @loveesiren , @sherrayyyyy , @getyoassoutthetrunk , @shieraseastarrs , @ctrldivinev , @xxxicddbr88 , @onyxmango , @tryingtolivelifeblog , @tulentiy , @bettelaboure

[cursedcanon]

Cuddles

sorry not posting im just extremely lazy 😕

how JJK men cuddle with you.

Characters:Gojo, Choso , Sakuna , Geto, Toji, Nanami ,Yuji and megumi

Gojo – The Enthusiastic and Teasing Cuddler Gojo isn’t one to do things halfway, so when he cuddles, it’s with full energy. He’ll pull you into his arms and position you so you're practically lying on top of him, all while teasing you with lighthearted comments about how you're “so small” or “so cute.” But his cuddles are surprisingly warm and comforting, despite the jokes. He loves holding you close, his arms wrapped around you like a personal blanket, and he’ll often tuck his head into your hair or kiss the top of your head. Expect random, playful tickling or his fingers brushing your sides as he enjoys being a bit of a nuisance—but in a loving way.

Choso – The Protective and Gentle Cuddler Choso’s cuddles are safe and nurturing. When he wraps his arms around you, you feel completely protected, like nothing in the world could hurt you while he's holding you. He’s calm, careful not to overwhelm you, and enjoys being close without being too touchy. His arms will gently encircle you, pulling you into his chest or resting his chin on your head as he closes his eyes in contentment. He enjoys those quiet, intimate moments where it’s just the two of you, and his presence is like a calming force that melts away any stress.

Sukuna – The Possessive but Loving Cuddler Sukuna’s cuddles are intense, possessive, and marked with an underlying dominance. When he pulls you into his embrace, you’re not going anywhere unless he wants you to. His arm will be around you, firmly holding you against his chest or his lap. He’ll lazily stroke your hair or run his fingers down your back, his touch both tender and controlling. Sukuna might not always show it, but he’s deeply comfortable when you're close to him, and he’ll let his guard down during these moments. Don’t expect a lot of words; he prefers to enjoy the quiet with you, but every now and then, he’ll grumble about how “you’re not allowed to leave this spot” as a way to keep you close.

Geto – The Calm and Reassuring Cuddler Geto’s cuddles are soothing and calming, like a quiet refuge from the world. He’ll hold you close, always making sure you're comfortable, whether that’s cuddling on the couch or in bed. His hand might gently stroke your hair or back, and he’ll rest his head against yours, letting out a soft sigh of contentment. When you cuddle, it’s as if the world slows down around you, and nothing else matters except the peace of the moment. He’s always mindful of your needs, adjusting his position if you’re not perfectly comfortable. He might not initiate it as much, but when you do cuddle, he’s fully present.

Toji – The Comforting but Protective Cuddler Toji’s cuddles are warm and protective, but there’s a slight roughness to them. When he holds you, it’s clear he’s not letting anything happen to you. He’ll pull you into his chest, pressing you against him like a shield, often with his arm draped across your shoulders or your waist. His hold is strong and secure, but there’s tenderness in the way he lets you get comfortable in his arms. If you’re resting on his chest, you can feel his steady heartbeat, and even though he might not say much, his protective nature shines through in his embrace. Sometimes he’ll rest his chin on your head, just savoring the quiet.

Nanami – The Relaxed and Affectionate Cuddler Nanami’s cuddles are warm, relaxed, and easy. He’s the kind of person who will curl up with you after a long day, just wanting to share the peaceful moment. His arms will wrap around you naturally, holding you in a way that makes you feel both loved and safe. He’ll lean back into the couch, letting you rest your head on his chest or on his shoulder, enjoying the simplicity of the moment. Nanami is not one for excessive cuddling, but when he does, it’s with a softness that reassures you. His gentle kisses on your forehead or hand are his way of showing affection while keeping things calm and natural.

Yuji – The Affectionate and Playful Cuddler Yuji’s cuddles are full of warmth and affection, with a good dose of energy. He’s the type to scoop you up into his arms or pull you onto his lap, not letting you go even when you protest. His hands will be all over you, but in a way that’s loving and playful. He might nuzzle into your neck or rest his face in your hair, just to feel close to you. When he’s in a cuddling mood, expect it to be full of giggles, light teasing, and the occasional tickle attack, especially if you're not expecting it. His cuddles are spontaneous, and he’ll do anything to make sure you’re laughing or smiling when you’re close to him.

Megumi – The Shy but Loving Cuddler Megumi is a bit shy when it comes to cuddling, but once you’re in his arms, you’ll feel how much he enjoys the closeness. He’s not overly forward with affection, but when he does cuddle, he’s all in. His arms will be around you in a protective, yet gentle way, as he leans his head against yours or presses a soft kiss to the top of your head. He enjoys the quiet intimacy of being close to you, and sometimes, he’ll just hold you without speaking, savoring the peace. He might get a little embarrassed if you initiate a cuddle, but once it’s happening, he’ll relax and hold you tightly, as if he never wants to let go.

[ki2rins]

⟢ lowkey - nsr

pairings: badboy! riki x fem! reader || fluff, crack || wc: 5k

synopsis: news flash! nishimura riki is finally mature enough to acknowledge his feelings for you and he wants to let you know! but what would he do? A. try to feed you? B. walk you home? C. many more. or D. all of the above? warnings: hes not really a badboy...just more of a get into fights/suspensions boy, loosely based / integrated from the anime - my little monster, highschool! au, petnames, playful banter, teasing, confident ni-ki, shy reader, swearing, - lmk if i missed out anything! playlist: lowkey - niki, moonstruck - enhypen, your eyes only - enhypen, is this love - XG rin's yap: gawddd first try at writing an actual fic, big thanks to bby who sent in the ask, ily smm <3 do let me know what yall think about it!

➽──────────────❥➽──────────────❥

nishimura riki or ni-ki was too boisterous. too boisterous for your calm, simple minded nature. he was noisy, you were quiet. he was sporty, you were not. he had a reputation that followed him wherever he went, while you preferred to stay low and blend into the background. yet, despite these stark differences, he always seemed to gravitate towards you. shocking you by leaving random candies on your desk, doodles on your notebook and even occasionally gives you a smile or two whenever your eyes meet. you thought to yourself, countless times even, on the reasons why ni-ki would shower you with these subtle affections. little do you know that the man, the myth himself, has a major crush on you. ni-ki took note of every simple detail about you. from how you’ll do your hair - a simple ponytail on mondays to thursdays and a small tidy bun on fridays since there was gym class. he also noticed how you’ll forget to have your lunch when you are caught up on annotating your textbook, and today was the day he spoke up about it.

ni-ki’s footsteps echoed through the classroom as the door swung open. his usual confident stride was back after his suspension, as if nothing has changed, though the whispers around him had already started. he flashed his signature smirk to the few people who dared make contact, his reputation clearly preceding him. most of the students avoided him, but not you. you didnt really have time to keep your head into these dramas, and you certainly didnt understand why everyone cared so much about his return. yet, for some reason, there he was, standing at the entrance of your usual seat. “you mind if i sit here?” ni-ki asked, his voice laced with a lazy confidence, like it wasnt even a question.

you blinked, trying not to show the hesitation in your eyes. the desk next to yours was the only one left open. you nodded, but the words caught in your throat as he slid into the seat without waiting for your approval. 

his eyes briefly scanned the open space on your desk - notes, pens, textbooks and the untouched lunch you had packed earlier. 

“you busy?” ni-ki asked, as if making small talk with you was his second nature. his tone was nonchalant, like he was speaking to someone he had known for years, even though you had barely exchanged a couple of sentences before. 

you glanced at him, then back at your notebook. “kind of.”  ni-ki hummed, playing with the contents in your pencil case. “kind of? looks more like youre drowning in notes.”

you sighed, placing your pen down. “its lunch period, if youre not here to study, why are you sitting here and bothering me? shouldnt you be in the cafeteria or something?” he leaned forward slightly, elbow propped on the desk, resting his chin on his fist. “but you havent eaten.” ni-ki said lazily. his eyes stared at your lunch then back at you. “how do you-” “you do this a lot, get too caught up in work, forget the time then boom - lunch period passes and your lunch gets forgotten.” your mind went blank upon hearing the words that just escaped from ni-ki’s mouth. he described that usual routine so perfectly that for a second you wondered - do doppelgangers exist in this world? you were so lost in your thoughts that you didnt realised until you heard the presence beside you speak up again.

 “eat.” ni-ki said as he nudged your lunchbox towards you. 

you hesitated, scanning his face for any sign of teasing, but he looked…oddly serious. it was strange, having someone notice such a small habit of yours, much less some like ni-ki. at that moment, you found yourself staring at him - from his jaw to the countless moles on his face, to his lazy-looking eyes and the stray strands of hair resting on his nose. damn. he look…good. 

“do you want me to feed you or something?” you blinked as you register his words. what in the world was he saying now? “come on yn, lunch period is ending in 10 minutes. chop chop.” ni-ki said as he took your lunchbox, opening it and passing you the sandwich you prepared for yourself earlier this morning, bringing it up to your lips. 

“i-i can eat it myself.” you snatched the sandwich away and turned the opposite reaction. taking a bite as you feel blood rushing up to your cheeks. 

upon seeing you shying away from him, ni-ki leaned back on his chair, arms crossed and a knowing smirk growing on his face. he admired the sight in front of him and it killed him to not take this chance to tease you even more, and what he says next really drove you insane. 

“good girl” 

then you choked.  ➽──────────────❥➽──────────────❥

you were so caught up in your thoughts that you barely noticed the bell ringing, signaling the end of class. as you packed your thing into your bag, your mind drifted back to earlier - specifically, the moment when ni-ki pointed out that habit of yours. 

“but you havent eaten” 

“do you want me to feed you or something?” 

“good girl” 

your cheeks warmed again at the thought of his words. he was right, as much as it embarrassed you. it wasnt the first time you had forgotten to eat, but hearing him call you out on it felt different somehow - like there was a tinge of affection wrapped up in those sweet words. 

as you were wrapping up your thoughts, you attempted to slip out of your seat, but you froze when ni-ki’s voice reached your ears. 

“ready to go?” 

you turned your head, confused. “ready to go where?” 

his smirk remained as he gave you a nonchalant shrug. “home.” and that was how you suddenly found yourself walking side by side with ni-ki. 

you cant lie, you dont have many friends. you chose to be part of a small, quiet circle that only hung out every once in awhile, mostly just to study or to catch up. your day to day was simple and predictable - go to school, proceed home, study then lastly, sleep. and so, it repeats again and again. 

is he doing all these out of pity? is he…looking down on me? 

it was unplanned, uncalled for even. you cant help but wonder if his actions covered up for any malicious intentions. but here you were, leaving the classroom and walking down the hallway, your footsteps in sync despite the silence hanging between you as you both made your way out of school. you glanced up at him, his hands shoved casually into his pockets, as if this was the most normal thing in the world. 

“so, whats your deal?” you blurted out before you could stop yourself. 

ni-ki raised an eyebrow, glancing at you sideways. “my deal? you have been avoiding me.” 

you stopped walking for a brief second. “i havent been-”

“yeah, you have.” he cut in smoothly. “you have been acting different lately, quieter. you dont usually keep to yourself. 

fuck. why is he noticing every single thing? 

but you could feel your heart skip a beat at his words. was it that obvious? you tried to brush it off, but his presence was so overwhelming, it was hard to hide anything. you forced a casual shrug. “its nothing.” 

ni-ki raised an eyebrow, clearly not buying it. “uh huh. sure. you have been way too quiet. no more random laughter with friends in class. not raising hands to answer questions anymore. you are usually…not this distant.” 

you tried to think of a response but found yourself coming up short. was he always this perceptive? or were you just that readable? 

“what about you?” putting up a more defensive front after being called out. “you dont exactly make it easy for people to talk to you.” 

he just gave you a lazy grin. “i dont need people to talk to me. i have got everything i need.”

you blinked, unsure how to respond to that. his self-confidence, or maybe arrogance, was something that always threw you off. it was like he know he had the power to make anyone talk, but didnt care enough to do so. 

“so, whats the plan after school?” ni-ki asked, his voice casual again, like the conversation had never left that easy, confident tone. 

“im going to study.” you said quickly, almost instinctively, though your thoughts were drifting to the last few hours of class. 

“of course you are. you always study, but you need a break.” he said as he turned, walking backwards now, his gaze never leaving you. “maybe i’ll join you someday, keep you company while youre at it. who knows, maybe i could even tutor you.” 

your heart did a strange flip at his words, but you tried not to show it. “yeah, right. you spend more time being suspended than actually being at school, and you think you can tutor me?” 

he shrugged, as if the idea didnt faze him at all. “well if you never try, you’ll never know.” he shot you a wink. “the invitation is always up, you could just give me a ring or drop me a text whenever.” 

you hummed, trying to stay calm while still processing the casual ‘invitation’ ni-ki had offered to you. you wanted to snap something back, but the air between you was thick with something you didnt quite understand. was this the way he usually operated? you couldnt tell if he was serious or if he was just messing with you.

the walk home continued in silence, but your thoughts were racing. ni-ki was… unpredictable, and that made you nervous in a way you werent used to.

➽──────────────❥➽──────────────❥

and so, the weekend came along and not once did you leave ni-ki’s mind. 

it wasnt like he didnt have other things to do. he had a routine - friends, his usual chaos - but somehow his thoughts kept drifting back to you. the way you blushed when he teased you about your lunch, the way you avoided meeting his gaze and the strange tension between you both that had been hanging ever since that walk home. 

he didnt get it. you were different from the usual crowd he interacted with. quiet, reserved. he was used to people talking around him, trying to get his attention, but you…you didnt try at all. 

maybe thats what made you so interesting. and alluring. 

he found himself staring at his phone more than usual, waiting for a message from you. he had dropped the invitation, and part of him thought you had just ignored it. but another part of him wonder if maybe, just maybe you would reach out. 

his fingers hovered over the keys, typing and deleting messages, not sure how to play this out. he wasnt used to feeling like this, like there was something worth waiting for. 

with a frustrated breath, he tapped out a quick message, keeping it casual, trying to convince himself. 

okay, you got this. just send the message. easy-peasy, no pressure. 

he stared at the screen for a moment longer, then, with a sigh, he sent it. 

ni-ki hey, its ni-ki just thought i'll remind you the offer is still open ;)

ni-ki stared at the screen for what felt like an eternity, waiting for a reply. his thumb hovered over the phone, already anticipating the silent rejection or the awkward radio silence that might follow. you see, ni-ki is a boy who dreams big, but he does not know how to achieve his dreams. he is not sure on the ways to approach or even to impress you. he is just placing his bets on the weird and awkward gestures he does to catch your attention, and something about his gut told him this time - that it he has a shot. 

still, he tried not to get this hopes up too much. 

the minutes dragged on, and his eyes flicked back to his phone again and again, even though he knew it was ridiculous. 

finally, the screen lit up. his heart skipped a beat. 

it was a reply. 

yn thanks for the reminder i'll think abt it

his lips quirked into a small, knowing smile. it wasnt exactly a ‘yes’, but it wasnt a ‘no’ either. but he was determined to make you say ‘yes’. 

ni-ki well if ure gonna think abt it u might as well take me up on the offer

he hit send, then tossed the phone to the side, trying to distract himself with anything else. but as always, his mind drifted back to you. was he coming off too strong? was he annoying you?

a ping sounded, and he instantly grabbed his phone.

yn youre serious about this huh?

ni-ki smirked, tapping a finger to his chin like he was trying to play it cool. he then replied quickly.

ni-ki i mean it wasnt a joke in the first place besides im pretty sure i could teach u a thing or two

yn im not so sure abt that im fine studying on my own

he grinned, sensing an opportunity.

ni-ki i know u'll say that but we both know ure not the greatest at keeping up w anyth and everyth remember what happened during that lunch period? classic example of u getting lost in your work dont think i didnt notice

there was a long pause, and ni-ki started to think he might have pushed it too far. but then, his phone buzzed again.

yn youre really observant huh? you sound very much like a stalker but abt ur offer im not sure abt it im not yk the best study buddy

ni-ki laughed to himself before replying almost instantly.

ni-ki ure prob right but thats why u need me and yk me irl so i cant be deemed as a stalker :) plus i promise i wont bite unless u want me to

ni-ki cringed at the last part but he didnt want to delete it. thinking to let you decide how to comprehend that.

yn :l fine i'll give it a shot but dont expect me to enjoy it

ni-ki's grin widened. he had won this round.

ni-ki deal see? that wasnt so hard

yn whatever i'll see u tmr then mr tutor

he laughed before typing out his last reply.

ni-ki cant wait to see u tmr promise it'll be fun :)

once done, he leaned back against his bed, a satisfied sigh escaping his lips. he wasnt sure what he had been expecting, but the fact that you agreed made it feel like progress. it wasnt much, but for ni-ki, it was a step forward and a win, is a win.

➽──────────────❥➽──────────────❥

you found yourself in the strangest places at the oddest times.

and here you are, standing outside ni-ki’s doorstep on a bright and sunny, sunday afternoon.

honestly you didnt expected yourself to agree to his offer at all, but something about his persistent messages and the way he would playfully pushed you to study with him had gotten to you. so here you were - standing in front of a you never thought you would be near, at a time you definitely never saw coming, door.

you took a deep breath and rang the doorbell, wincing at how loud it sounded against the silence of the street. your thoughts were scattered, your mind racing through the worst-case scenarios. what if he gave you the wrong address? what if hes not home? you swallowed hard, trying to shake off the wave of nervousness crashing over you. 

just then, the door opened with a soft creek, there he was - ni-ki, standing in the doorway, donning just a simple tank top with sweats, greeting you with that familiar cocky smile on his face. 

“hey” he said, leaning against the door frame with his arms crossed. “you actually showed up.”

you couldnt tell if his smirk was a teasing one or was he genuinely impressed at the fact that you were standing right infront of his doorstep. either way, it did little to calm your nerves. 

“well” you cleared your throat. “i said i would, didnt i?” 

he grinned wider, his eyes sparkling with mischief. “i’ll believe it when i see it.” 

you rolled your eyes, trying to hide the flush creeping up your neck. “so uh. where are we studying?” you asked, doing your best to sound casual. 

he stepped aside, gesturing you to come in. “follow me. i have a study spot all set up.” 

as you entered, the tension in your chest started to ease slightly. it was just studying right, right? you could handle this. but still, you couldnt shake the feeling that something had shifted between the two of you ever since that walk home. 

the study session wasnt anything out of the ordinary - at least, thats what you tried to tell yourself. you and ni-ki were seated side by side, books scattered across the desk, his room quiet except for the occasional rustling of papers and the soft tapping of your pens. 

you tried to focus on your notes, but it wasnt easy when he kept glancing at you. his gaze was so intense, and it made your stomach do these weird flips you couldnt explain. every time you looked to your side, he’ll be looking at you with that half-smirk of his. 

“need help with that equation?” ni-ki asked casually, leaning over to look at your paper, your shoulders making contact, making you tensed. 

“i-i got it.” you stuttered, quickly writing down the the answer and shifting your body aside, slightly tucking yourself inwards.

he chuckled softly, clearly amused by your reaction. “relax cutie, im just making sure youre not stressing too much.”

your heart beat faster at his words, especially by the petname he just called you. it wasnt the first time he had said something to put you at ease, but somehow it felt different today. you couldnt help but notice how gentle his tone was, how patient he was with you. 

there was a brief silence before you felt him brush his fingers against your cheek as he tucked a strand of hair behind your ear. his touch was light, but it sent an unexpected shiver down your spine. 

“youre too close.” you muttered, trying to distract yourself by scribbling down more notes, but it was hard when his hand lingered in the air, still so close. 

ni-ki didnt seem to mind the tension. instead, he leaned back in his chair, eyes never leaving yours. “youre cute when youre flustered, you know that?” 

you tried not to blush, but the heat creeping up your neck was unavoidable. “stop messing around.” 

“im not messing around.” he replied softly, his voice suddenly more serious. he leaned towards you, resting his elbows on the desk, his gaze softening. “you know, i have been thinking about something.”

your eyes met his, and for a second, it felt like the whole world stopped. you felt nervous, your chest thumped in anticipation. you didnt know what he was about to say, but something told you it was important. 

“wh-what?” you asked, barely above a whisper. 

he hesitated for a moment, his eyes flicking to your lips before returning to your eyes.

“i like you. a lot. like, more than just a study buddy. im not sure if you could tell, but i have been trying to get closer to you and i was praying all my gestures wouldnt shoo you away instead.” 

your breath caught in your throat. you had not expect this moment, your heart raced, and you could feel the color rising in your cheeks, “ni-ki…” 

he reached out, his thumb brushing the back of your hand gently. “i know this might sound sudden, but i like the way you are. quiet, thoughtful. you dont make a big deal out of anything. and…i think youre a lot more than you give yourself credit for.” 

there was an awkward pause, and you werent sure what to say. you had been so focused on the fact that he was always the cool, aloof guy, that you had not noticed how serious he had been about this whole thing. 

you did reciprocate his feelings back, but there was just one thing that was stopping you from doing so - his reputation. he was the headstrong boy who gets into fights and treats the world as his playground. you, on the other hand, were just an average girl exploring life one step at the time. both of you were polar opposites, and that scared you. 

people had warned you about him before - teachers who sighed at the look of his bruised and battered sight, classmates who gossiped about his flights, the way he always seemed to get himself into troubles and brush it off like it was nothing. ‘he doesnt care about anything’ they said. ‘hes just looking for fun.’ but sitting here now, with the way he was looking at you, speaking so softly, so genuinely…you werent sure if that was true anymore. 

before you could summarised your thoughts, ni-ki broke the silence, his voice playful again but with that soft edge of sincerity. “dont worry. im not expecting anything, not from you anyway. but i thought you should know.”

those four words that he slipped in hurt you in ways you couldnt explain. you wanted to admit your feelings for him but the fear still stays. however, something inside of you just wanted to give it a shot, not caring if you would get hurt in the process. life is full of growth anyways right?

“ni-ki” you said, still unsure of how to phrase your words. 

he hummed, leaning close to you. “yeah?” 

“im scared, but i want to try…wanna make this work. make this work with…you.”

➽──────────────❥➽──────────────❥

you and ni-ki did not settle on any label of your current in-between-friendship-situationship-relationship-state. instead, you both agreed to take this one step at the time, keeping things lowkey.

so when he texted you on a saturday night with a simple “wanna go out?”, you werent sure if he meant a date or just another random meet-up. but then again, did it matter? 

the waves crashed gently against the shore as the two of you walked side by side, your footsteps sinking into the sand. the beach was quiet, save for the distant laughter of a few night strollers and the occasional rustling of the breeze. it wasnt planned, wasnt fancy - just the two of you, sneakers in hand, the salty air clinging to your skin. 

“didnt think you would actually show up.” ni-ki mused, kicking a stray shell along the sand. his tone was light, but you caught a small smile tugging at his lips. 

you scoffed, hugging your arms. “you do realise you texted me at, like, ten, right?” 

“yeah, but youre here anyways.” he nudged you with his elbow. “you just cant resist me huh?” 

you rolled your eyes, but your heart betrayed you, skipping a beat at the way he said it - so effortlessly, so naturally, like this thing between you had always been there. 

the night stretched on as you walked, exchanging quiet conversation and playful remarks, but beneath it all, there was something else - something unspoken, lingering between your words - until ni-ki finally brought it up. 

“you still scared?” he stopped to face you, his voice soft and you could tell he was serious, no teasing, no laughter. he didnt elaborate, but you knew exactly what he meant. 

you hesitated, staring out at the dark horizon, “a little.” 

ni-ki hummed, shoving his hands into his pockets. “good. means you actually care.” 

he said it so simply, yet it made your chest tighten. you glanced at him, searching his face, and for once, he wasnt smirking. and in that moment you could tell -  the facade was gone, he wasnt ni-ki but riki, just a boy looking at you like you were the only person on the stretch of sand. 

you both now settled to sit on the sand, hearing the waves clash against each other as you both kept quiet. you studied his face once again, ni-ki hugged his knees, toes playing with the sand, the usual smirk on his face replaced with a faint frown. you could tell that he was distracted and for the first time, you felt his confidence falter and it was worrying you. his eyes didnt hold their playful spark, they were distant, thoughtful. you couldnt but ask. 

“is everything okay?” your voice was soft, careful, unsure if you were stepping into something you shoudnt. 

ni-ki looked at you, his expression unreadable for a moment. then, he sighed. “you ever wonder if people only see what they want to see?”

“what do you mean?” you blinked, processing his words, unsure of the hidden meaning behind his question. 

he ran a hand through his hair, letting out another frustrated sigh. “i mean…im this ‘bad boy’ that everyone perceives me to be. i get into fights, i skip classes, i dont care about anything or anyone. people see that, and they think the know who i am. hell, even i have convinced myself that its easier to just be this…persona. its just easier to let people think im this heartless guy than to show them that…im more than that.” 

his words tugged at your heartstrings. you knew the troubles, but you never understood it, not until this moment. the playful, cocky ni-ki you knew, that chased you, was suddenly nowhere to be found. instead, you saw someone who was burdened by an image that never felt like it fit. 

“youre not heartless.” you said, your voice steady but filled with sincerity. without thinking, you reached out and gently placed your hand on his, the warmth of your touch grounding him in the quiet stillness of the night. “you never were.” 

ni-ki looked down at your hand, gaze softening. “you dont get it. you dont know what its like to always be the guy everyone expects to mess up. i even made you second-guess this whole situation didnt i?” he turned to face you, eyes locked on yours. 

you tried to search for the usual playful spark in his eyes, but it was gone. there was only vulnerability. he was no longer the confident, untouchable ni-ki, but just a boy who had learned to hide behind walls. his gaze searched yours, and for a moment, you felt the wright of his insecurities pressing down on you. 

you couldnt help but feel guilty. you couldnt help but blame the world for putting so much on his shoulders. for making him self-doubt himself, for making you doubt him. 

“you dont have to be that guy for anyone.” you said, your voice soft but firm. “youre more than what people think. i see you. the real you.” 

ni-ki looked at you, his lips parted as if he wanted to say something but didnt know how. his usual confidence seemed like a distant memory now, replaced by a quiet, raw sincerity that made your heart ache for him. 

but to ni-ki, that was all he needed to hear from you, that was all he wanted from you. 

acceptance. 

ni-ki remained still for a moment, his eyes fixed on yours, as if searching for a hint of insecurity in your words. when he found none, a flicker of something softer passed through his expression. the tightness in his shoulders eased, but he still didnt smile - not in the way he usually did. 

instead, he simple nodded, his voice barely across a whisper. “i guess…i have been waiting for someone to see me like that.” 

the words were simple, but they carried a weight that you werent sure you were reading for. it was as if, for the first time, ni-ki was letting down the walls he had carefully built around himself, trusting you to catch him if he fell. 

you didnt hesitate, you reached out, gently brushing your fingers against his cheek. “i see you, riki. just you. no one else.” 

his eyes softened, the guarded look that had been there moments ago replaced with something much more vulnerable. the usual cocky grin was nowhere to be found, but there was something more meaningful in its place - a raw, unspoken gratitude. 

slowly, ni-ki leaned forward, his breath warm against your face as he closed the distance between you. it wasnt fast, and it wasnt rushed. it was a quiet, tender movement, as though he was giving you the choice, the space to decide. 

and for once, you didnt need time to think. you leaned into him, the kiss gentle at first, as if both of you were testing the waters - treading carefully. but as the kiss deepened, the walls between you both seemed to crumble further, and in that moment, you realised that despite everything - the doubts, the insecurities, the fear - you werent as different as you thought. you were both just two people trying to figure things out, finding solace in each other’s presence. 

the world around you faded. the waves, the sand, the night - it all disappeared as ni-ki’s arms wrapped around you, pulling you closer, as if he, too, had been waiting for something to finally feel real. 

when the kiss ended, you both lingered in the stillness for a moment, breathing in the night air. ni-ki pulled back just enough to meet your gaze, a playful spark finally flickering back to life in his eyes. 

“so…are we, like…boyfriend and girlfriend now?” he asked, his voice light but with a hopeful smile. 

you blinked, surprised by the directness, but then you smiled, a soft laugh escaping your lips. “youre asking me?” 

ni-ki raised an eyebrow, teasing. “well, im pretty sure i have earned it.” 

you rolled your eyes but couldnt stop yourself from smiling, the warmth between you undeniable. “i guess so.” 

he grinned and pulled you closer, the playful glint in his eyes still there, but there was something more sincere behind it now, “good, because im not going anyhwere.” 

you leaned into him again, realising that whatever this was between you, it was real. no labels, no expectations - just the two of you, finally figuring things out together.

© ki2rins 2025, please do not copy or plagiarise my work.

[eeerrrrewsd]

Worth the Risk

Part 3

Jason Todd x Reader – Hurt/Comfort, Soft!Jason, Slightly Spicy

Jason was trying.

Really trying.

But some nights were harder than others.

Like tonight.

Where you were curled up next to him, warm and soft against his side, talking about something—something normal—and he couldn’t stop thinking about how fragile this all was.

How temporary it had to be.

Because Jason Todd wasn’t made for things like this.

For softness.

For warmth.

For you.

But then—then you did something so small, so casual—

You reached over, fingers brushing through his hair, slow and absentminded, like it was second nature.

And Jason froze.

Because no one had ever touched him like that before.

Like he was something precious.

Like he deserved it.

And God, he wanted to lean into it.

But he didn’t know how.

Didn’t know how to be gentle when he had spent most of his life being anything but.

So he stiffened, swallowing hard, and you—of course you noticed.

You always noticed.

Your hand stilled, your voice softer now. “Jay? What’s wrong?”

Jason shut his eyes. Exhaled slow.

“…Nothin’.”

You didn’t buy it.

You never did.

“You always do that,” you murmured, pulling back just a little.

Jason felt the loss immediately.

“Do what?” he muttered.

“You pull away when I touch you like that.”

Jason hesitated. “I don’t mean to.”

You tilted your head. Studying him.

Then, to his utter surprise, you reached for his hand—slow, deliberate—and laced your fingers through his.

Not forcing. Not pushing.

Just waiting.

Letting him decide.

And Jason—Jason hated how much he wanted it.

Hated how much he craved this.

But he didn’t pull away.

Instead, he squeezed your hand—barely—and let out a breath he hadn’t realized he was holding.

“…I don’t wanna hurt you,” he admitted quietly.

You blinked, expression softening. “Jason—”

“I don’t mean to push you away,” he muttered, almost frustrated now, like he was mad at himself. “I just—I don’t know how to—”

He cut himself off, shaking his head.

You just squeezed his hand. “I know.”

Jason swallowed.

Then, cautiously—like he was still expecting you to flinch—he pulled you closer.

You went easily, settling against his chest, and Jason exhaled.

Just breathed you in.

“…You don’t gotta be scared of me,” he murmured after a moment.

You shifted against him, tilting your head up.

“I know,” you said simply. “You don’t have to be scared of yourself either.”

Jason froze.

Because no one had ever said that to him before.

Not like that.

Not gently.

And maybe—just maybe—he needed to hear it.

It was getting easier to let himself have this.

To let you have him.

And maybe Jason wasn’t good at softness, but he was trying.

You were stretched across his bed, messing with something on your phone, and Jason—not even thinking—brushed his fingers over your hip, slow and lazy.

You paused, glancing up at him.

Jason hesitated.

Then—testing the waters—he did it again.

Light. Soft. Deliberate.

And your breath hitched.

Jason noticed.

And fuck, he liked that.

He smirked, but it was different this time. Softer. Warmer.

“You okay, sweetheart?” he murmured.

You swallowed, blinking up at him. “…Yeah.”

Jason hummed, trailing his hand over your side.

Your breath shuddered.

And Jason—Jason loved the way you reacted to him.

The way you melted under his touch.

The way you let him be gentle.

Maybe—just maybe—Jason could get used to this.

To you.

[mullermilkshake]

Hide and seek

Things get hot and heavy before the eve of the next game. The players vote to stay.

Frontman!Satoru Gojo x Fem!Reader x Frontman!Suguru Geto (Squid game au) Request by @vampir-queen Tags- MINOR DNI, Smut, PIV sex, semi-public sex, readers a virgin, murder,misogyny,mentions of threesomes/ejaculation/creampie, voyeurism, lets be honest Satoru and Suguru have definitely fucked, canon-typical violence, blood gore, kind of torture

Part three

Suguru laid up in his bunk after the final vote for the third game, he should have been elated. Yet the niggling feeling he had didn't leave his mind entirely.

Where had Satoru gone, and where were you exactly? 

He hoped he’d get a chance to spend time with you before the next game. Your little innocent face making him think about settling down often.

Maybe he should get away from these games and find himself a wife who took care of him, and in turn, he would take care of her.

He was an accomplished lover and he could imagine the sort of faces she’d pull when he did his duties as husband. Then, he thought about your pretty face, and how that would look.

Suguru turned over and fiddled with the sheet on the bed in the deepest thought he’d been in since entering. He could admit that he sort of liked you, but more in a ‘like to fuck you and run’ sort of way.

You had debt in your name, and though it wasn’t by much, it was still an inconvenience to him financially.

He had overheard once that Sukuna was married. Suguru wondered who was dumb enough to go with a grumpy old man such as him and actually make it legal. Would she be as dramatic and twisted as he was? Or perhaps she would be the innocent type like you who would most probably do whatever she was told?

Who knew? If there was one thing Suguru learnt from the brief reflection, was that he just wanted to get laid, a quick fuck to tire him over and help him sleep.

Lights out was fast approaching, Satoru and you were still nowhere to be found. So he got up and asked to be taken to the toilets, to relieve himself before the night started. 

Suguru barely opened the door when an old man marched out, folding his arms and cursing to himself about respect or something.

Then he heard it. Moaning, excited huffing and natural slapping of wet, sweaty skin.

“You like that?” A loud smack echoed around the restroom.

“Yes- yeah, I really do- oh god.” A breathless woman, clearly fucking in one of the stalls.

Suguru wanted to pay it no mind, consciously fighting his inner monologue to give the guy a handshake for getting lucky. He took a piss and tried his best to ignore the distorted moans, the water from the sinks sort of blocking it out.

And when he turned to leave he heard it again. “This pussy is mine, you hear me? Fuck, I wish Suguru could see this-“

Hold on a second… is that Satoru?

He tiptoed over and got as close as he could before his shoes would be visible under the door. The idiot got lucky enough with someone, though Suguru had his hunches, because unlike Satoru he wasn’t an idiot.

Satoru had gone missing. You were missing too. It wasn’t difficult to piece it together.

Well, fuck.

“I’m… oh my- I’m going to-“ your moan hit his ears, that sweet innocent drawl turned filthy.

You were most probably thinking that tomorrow was going to be it, that tonight was the last night before death. Suguru simply wouldn’t allow it, he would make sure you got through it, because he wanted some of what Satoru was having.

But for now he wanted to ruin it, because he was a dick.

He knocked and waited for Satoru’s lazy retort. “Fuck off. This stall’s occupied, if you couldn’t hear.”

Suguru snorted and stood closer so that his shoes were visible now, then knocked again.

“Jesus - I’m trying’ to get laid here, can it wait?”

He heard you whispering to him, audible only just barely. Satoru responded again. “Look, I’d be happy for you to join, but the lady ain’t up for that so get out of here.”

“Ten minutes until light’s out, Satoru.” The bathroom stall went quiet when Suguru spoke for the first time.

“Shit, that’s you?” Satoru laughed, the sound of skin on skin sounded again, your little moans were stifled but still there. “Open the door will ya?”

“What? No, I don’t want people seeing me like this, I’m embarrassed already.”

Satoru cooed and whispered back, “Don’t worry, Suguru’s like a brother to me, it won’t be weird, I promise.”

Suguru could hear you were uncomfortable, but decided not to comment on it, not if it gave him material to keep burned in his memories. And what a sight too, you half naked, sat on Satoru’s cock like the most comfortable seat in the house.

Now, Suguru had seen Satoru’s cock plenty of times, just like he had seen his too. Plenty of threesomes when times got boring in between games in their little town. Plenty of pretty girls, and what’s a little quick fuck with a girl in between amongst friends?

“Hey man, you good?”

He nodded and folded his arms, standing out of the bathroom stall looking in. “Can’t complain, but I came looking for you when you disappeared.”

“Sorry, got caught up in this, can you give us five? I wont take much longer.” Satoru continued to fuck you, though you wouldn’t dare look in Suguru’s eyes.

There was nothing to be embarrassed about, the human body was beautiful, Satoru’s included and Suguru would never judge someone getting off in the midst of murder and bloodshed.

He wondered, would you take him into the toilets too? He could only dream.

“Yeah, just be back by lights out, or the masked guys will come looking.”

“You got it.” Satoru slammed the stall door shut and Suguru left the bathroom, wandering back to his bunk and the mindset to fight off the hard on he was currently battling with. He could just go and jerk off when the lights went out, tonight was safe enough before the special game tomorrow, but he wanted to savour it.

To savour you. 

If Satoru had you, then Suguru automatically wanted you, it was just a thing that happened between Satoru and Suguru regularly. Like brothers or bratty children that wanted everything the other had.

He thought about how Satoru would finish, would you be risky and let him come deep inside you so that you were dripping come light’s out? Or perhaps you were a prude and made him come all over your tits or ass so it dripped all over the tiled floor for the masked soldiers to clean up.

Oh… now that was disrespectful. Something Suguru admired.

He’d ask Satoru about it later.

Once in bed, Suguru closed his eyes and never bothered to wait for Satoru to come back, slipping into sleep quickly before the usual boring music woke everyone up for the impending game.

Which game would it be today? Hide and seek maybe… or what about the other one? Suguru’s favourite, a game he came up with actually.

Only one way to tell.

“Mornin’.” Satoru climbed off his bed and joined Suguru down by the stage, awaiting the square mask to accompany them inside. “Man, I slept like a baby.”

“I bet you did, you sly dog. How many attempts did it take to get her in that stall anyway?”

“None.”

Suguru did not expect that, not from you of all people. “None? You mean-”

“Yup.” Satoru was incredibly pleased with himself by the grin on his face. “She propositioned me, and she’s a freak too- she put it under the guise that she was scared of dying today so she wanted me to take her virginity.”

“She was a virgin?” Holy shit, Suguru missed a few chapters here. “Fuck, how did you get so lucky?”

Satoru shrugged and watched as the large cool double doors opened for the soldiers to enter. “What can I say? I’m just one hell of a dreamy guy.”

“The next game will start shortly-”

Suguru ignored the soldiers. A virgin, you were a fucking virgin- how were you a virgin? “Lucky? That’s a one in a million.”

Fuck.

“Morning you two.” You appeared out of nowhere, your player jacket zipped up all the way this morning. 

“You seemed chipper today.” Suguru was making polite conversation as they entered the set of staircases leading to the game hall.

“Um… I mean- well I got some sleep. So I think that’s why.” 

Yeah, not because you had your brains fucked out by his best friend. Satoru wasn’t even trying to hide it, much to your own shyness, looking around every so often with his arm around you blushing and twiddling your fingers.

“Oh right, yeah, I’m sure that’s why.”

As they approached the doors to the game room, Satoru leaned into Suguru away from your prying eyes. “Hey, how do you wanna do this today?”

“I’ll take her this time, it’s my turn.” 

Satoru pouted. “Aw, what? But I’m on a roll here.”

The audacity. “Yeah, and you got to fuck her last night, give me some slack.”

“You coulda joined if she was into it, but she said no, what could I do?”

While Suguru did agree that it was your choice, he hated the carrot being dangled that close to his face and he couldn’t dive in head first to try it.

When the doors opened, the room was littered with furniture and Suguru could tell immediately what it was. He invented it this way. Large sofas and table tops, chairs and bed frames set up in an almost surreal way, tilted and twisted in the ground into sections. Comfortable enough to hold two people at a time.

“Welcome to the third game. The game will be played in pairs. The game is, The Floor is Lava. All players will stand on the ground until the countdown of twenty seconds begins, then players will need to find somewhere off the ground to remain while the floor becomes lava. There will be six rounds. Those who fall off, or if there are more than two people in the specified safe area, the players will be eliminated.”

“Oh god…” You looked around too, clinging to Satoru’s arm like you were rubbing it in too.

Luckily for you, Suguru knew the way around this game like the back of his hand.

He squeezed between you and Satoru and took your hand. “Don’t worry, I’ll keep you safe this round, I used to be the best at this game when I was a child, right Satoru?”

Satoru just grumbled. Suguru relished it.

“Really? You’d do that?”

“Of course.” Suguru smiled as sweetly as he could and waved Satoru off. “See you on the other side, Satoru.”

He grumbled and wandered off in the crowds with his hands in his pockets. You were indifferent to his departure and observed the forming pairs and hung close to Suguru.

“So how should we go about this?”

“I repeat, welcome to the third game. The game will be played in pairs. The game is-” 

Suguru took your hand and held it firmly. “Stay with me at all times, if we climb on something, I’ll make sure no one gets on with us. That’s how we do this. But relax and do as I tell you and we’ll be just fine.”

“Alright then.”

The first round began once everyone was in pairs, the creepy music played that Suguru chose himself and each pair walked around the room anticipating the countdown that went off at random intervals.

Twenty seconds ticking away and Suguru pulled you over to an upturned sofa stuck in the ground at an angle. The part of the lava being on the floor had been misleading, though true. The floor was out of bounds and totally uninhabitable when it counted down to zero.

No shooting in this game.

You held on and Suguru watched, the panels in the floor opening completely which caused several people to disappear. The drop down into the pit was a massive one, fully set with punji sticks for added measure for the depravity Suguru held.

Satoru enjoyed breaking people down to nothing, Suguru enjoyed eviscerating them, making them suffer under the guise of conserving ammunition. Sukuna had been amused by that, he seemed to enjoy the punji sticks and was adamant to get a camera installed to watch as the players landed on them.

All Suguru had to do was keep you on a solid piece of furniture to get through the next five rounds.

After the numbers of the deceased players were called, the floor reset itself and the music began again. You climbed off first and slipped your hands in his for the time being, watching the countdown clock to go off at any second. 

“You’re doing great, just keep focused, can you do that for me?”

You nodded and zipped your head around for a piece of furniture when the timer started. You ran over to a table this time, not the best when it was slippery, but it would do. Once you climbed on, another player came over and yanked you off of it by your hair.

Suguru’s eye twitched, it was part of the game and there was nothing against the rules. However he wasn’t about to die for some dumb loser who couldn’t  get their life in order. Not at all. So he yanked the man off and shoved him into another table close by. He kicked the other player he was with off, pulling you up in the process just as the timer clicked off.

The men fell to their deaths and two other select pieces of furniture disappeared into the pit when there were more than two people on it.

Should have listened to the rules, they aren’t exactly difficult.

As the numbers died down and the final round approached, people were getting more desperate, frightened, and Suguru grew more excited.

Seeing people fight each other for survival fascinated him, he also wanted to see how you would fare too at some point.

But after he got a chance to fuck you.

Look at you now, clung to a sofa for your life. You were just begging to be fucked again. 

And where better else to be holed up in the bathroom during the special game tonight?

Perseverance, and he’d get rewarded.

Part two <- -> Part four

DISCLAIMER - I do not own any of the characters of Jujutsu Kaisen, or anything from Squid game. This is a work of fan fiction and is absolutely not representative of the views or intentions of the original creator(s).

Also please don’t post any of my work without permission thank you!

[madridfangirl]

Star crossed lovers (Jude Bellingham fic)

Chapter 20

(Series Link)

Jude * female reader. Mature Language in parts.

Synopsis: A chance encounter in a tiny Madrid cafe with the newest superstar of her fav club. The two couldn't be more different, yet both feel the pull toward the other. Would this girl be the one he finally falls for? Or would life come in the way of these star-crossed lovers?

...............................................................................

Love. Oh, what a wonderfully intoxicating feeling it was.

Jude had never been in love before. Having another person so deeply influence your happiness, peace and centre of gravity was an alien feeling at first. But eventually, as the months passed, he got so addicted to the highs that the lows were well worth it. Six months into their relationship, being with her had become second nature to Jude. At times, the attachment scared him too, especially when she wasn’t around and he missed her like hell, but one hug from her was all the balm he needed. Mostly, he was glowing under her love.

Ananya had been in love before. But this felt different - deeper, more passionate, more intense, more consuming. And definitely far higher stakes. The doubts of their complicated situation never really left her, not fully. Especially on some tough nights when their realities came to a head. But Jude had a way of pulling her back to him every single time. All her worries tended to wash away under his smile, his puppy eyes, his constant reassurances, his heartfelt praises and proclamations of love. Even her worst fears were losing to the depth of his feelings. He had well & truly shattered almost all the walls she had built around herself. And made his way into her heart, mind, soul and body. Claiming them all decisively. Making her his, and keeping her as his. And boy had he swept her off her feet.

Roma and Jobe had front row seats to their journey, serving as external voices of reason when they were too drowned in each other to realise what was happening.

‘You’re practically living together now, you see that right?’

‘What? That’s rubbish.’

Ananya dismissed the thought immediately, going back to her Wordle. Roma and her were plopped on her bed, enjoying a lazy Saturday afternoon after ages. Jude was out of town for an away game.

‘Yeah? Let’s see.’

Roma got up from the bed with purpose. Something about her tone & stride making Ananya put her phone down & take notice.

She opened Ananya’s cupboard and pointed at one full cabinet stuffed with Jude’s things.

‘It’s just for convenience, so he doesn’t throw things around the room.’

‘Hmm.’

Roma went to the adjoining washroom, carrying out one basket filled with Jude’s toiletries. It was bigger than Ananya’s.

‘You know how he is. If he doesn’t find the specific product he’d bring the house down or send Agnes scampering for it. Just for conve…’

‘…convenience you say? Sure. I’m guessing your stuff would be in his room too, for convenience?’

‘….yeah.’

‘And that particular brand of sugarless pancake batter in the kitchen, those cereals that taste like mud, all that healthy vegan crap that you & I hate, is there for convenience too?’

Ananya averted her eyes, unsure of what to say. Or feel.

‘When he’s not here, you’re there. If you both are in Madrid and have time on your hands, you’re always joined at the hip. That’s called living together.’

Realisation set in for Ananya, followed by panic. She grabbed Roma’s hand & pulled her to the bed.

‘Is this…wrong?’

Roma’s tone softened immediately, looking at her friend’s state, knowing that the point had hit home.

‘Why should it be wrong? But it’s serious. And intense. And maybe a bit faster than what I would have done. But hey, to each his own yeah? Just want you to be aware that you’re in deep waters now, my friend. And maybe you should talk to Jude about it.’

Ananya nodded aimlessly. The idea of talking to Jude about this was unnerving. The dreaded conversation of where they were and where it was heading and if they were moving too fast. So she put it on the back burner for now, letting things unfold at their own pace.

Similarly, Jobe was amused to see his erstwhile ‘player’ brother turn more & more into what he called a ‘lovesick puppy.’

‘Say what now?’

‘You heard me.’

‘What do you know? You’re practically a child.’

‘I’m 18, bro.’

‘Exactly.’

‘More relationship experience than you. Just saying.’

‘Teenage relationship.’

‘Still counts.’

‘Whatever, you’re wrong.’

‘Yeah? So you didn’t discard last event’s outfit, custom-made by your stylist, just coz your girlfriend didn’t like it?’

‘She’s got taste. Picked me, yeah? So what if I listen to her opinion sometimes?’

‘What happened to having ‘uniquely distinct fashion choices that others are too stupid to understand’? At least that used to be the house line?’

‘She’s not others.’

‘Precisely my point.’

‘You have no point.’

‘Whipped.’

‘Shut up you loon.’

‘So you’re saying keeping the beard was your choice?’

The beard had been a sore point between Jude & Ananya. She liked him in the goatee but when he graduated to a beard she was thrilled. She had never been a fan of facial hair but she claimed that the beard suited Jude so so much. Plus she found it super sexy, which Jude always cashed in when he needed to. When he randomly moved back to the goatee one fine day, she just looked him up & down & didn’t kiss him like she used to. Didn’t wrap her arms around his neck when he kissed her, like she used to. That night, she didn’t deny him his tumble but didn’t doll up for him like she used to. He got the message, without her saying a word. He kept pestering her if she didn’t like it and she said it should be his choice. She shouldn’t have a say here. But he knew it was bullshit. She obviously had a preference and this was a passive aggressive way of showing it. Jude complained that it was discrimination and she was indirectly influencing his choice by using her sexuality. She retorted that she hadn’t denied him in any way that night and he shot back saying that she hadn’t invited him either, like she used to, especially after a difficult away game where he scored the winner. This half-hearted passion was unlike what they were accustomed to. The spark, the heat was not the same, coz she was not the same. And she simply said she couldn’t help it since she was ‘mourning his beard.’ Jude wanted to turn around and call her over-dramatic but decided not to, choosing to play the long game & not get kicked to the couch.

Her reaction to a clean-shaven look was far worse. Jude had to do it for a shoot and she refused to be anywhere near him, saying he looked like a child and she didn’t want any funny business when he had that babyface. She even tried to put a pillow between them when they went to bed, which Jude had to practically wrestle away. No amount of whining, cajoling or begging from him made her budge. That night, Jude realised he was in love with someone who could be as obstinate as him when she wanted to.

In an unfortunate moment, he had shared all this with his useless brother. 

‘Never telling you anything else from now on.’

‘Pls you’ll die without babbling to me.’

‘Oh fuck off.’

Jobe ignored that completely. 

‘Gonna change the trim too?’

Jude sighed. She didn’t like his hair too finely cut on the sides, said he looked bald under that hat. But net net she loved the overall trim. So he had decided to stand his ground here & keep the sides as is.

‘None of your fucking business.’

‘Gotta give her her flowers though - not a mean thing to have THE JUDE BELLINGHAM wrapped around her little finger.’

‘Should I tell her you said that?’

‘Go ahead. She’s cool & she adores me.’

‘Then why being a dick with me?’

‘Coz it’s fun. And you’re too thick to see it on your own.’

‘Bye now.’

Jude did see what he meant; his brother had used those words just to tease him. And he needed Jobe to show him that mirror at times, like he had done to make Jude realise his feelings for her in the first place. Yes Jude had fallen deep, he could see it well & clear now. But the perks of this phase he was in far outweighed any minor inconveniences. They meant nothing when she smiled & embraced him with so much affection that he could practically feel his heart burst with warmth. Much to his own surprise, he was loving being in love.

However, the relationship had not been a bed of roses, like any other couple.

The pressure of his job was not easy to deal with. Jude & his family still had 4+ years to get used to this limelight & stress, yet even for them Madrid had been astronomically different. Ananya never imagined or wished for such a life, so it was even harder for her.

When the weight of the world was on his shoulders before a big game or a big event in his professional life, she felt the burden too. When all eyes turned on him, trying to tear him apart for some behaviour or the other, or for a red/yellow card (sometimes undeserved), she felt the sting too. 

When his injuries took a toll on his body, she felt the pain too. The shoulder & ankle ones had been particularly brutal - he had to miss matches, undergo intrusive treatments and sulk on the couch while his team carried on without him. Finding a balance between understanding his situation & comforting him had been tricky - Jude had flipped out on a few such occasions when she had tried to tell him it was ok. Coz it was anything but that for him. Later, he did apologise (after silent treatments from her) for taking out his frustration on her but she realised this was not sustainable & they had to find a solution.

With time, she was getting a better handle on his moods. When he wanted to be reassured - with comforting words or warm hugs. When he wanted to just be left alone. When it was better for his mother or brother to handle the situation instead. When he just needed company and wanted to sort out his head on his own, while laying on her chest and playing with the hem of her top absentmindedly. When he needed a mindless carnal release, as an outlet for his stress, which she allowed because generally their intimacy wasn’t mindless. He was a complicated man, under severe pressure, so she gave him a fair bit of leeway. 

She had also learnt to not offer unsolicited advice on his game too much, which sometimes she was tempted to do as an ardent fan. She might disagree with his brashness or arrogance on the pitch at times but that’s what made him him. Without that earth-shattering confidence, he would not be a galactico at Madrid at 20. So she only shared her POV on these things when he specifically asked her, or when she felt things were going overboard. Jude once told her that’s exactly how Denise treated him as well, though his Mum was probably more gentle in her interventions while Ananya took him to the cleaners at times, saying he needed that.

Jude recognised that she did more in finding this balance between them than he did, and that she could have easily stayed on the sidelines and not be so emotionally invested in his professional highs or lows. But she did it out of love. 

He loved her love for football and Madrid. Loved discussing & watching games with her, like he did with his family, teammates & friends from back home. Well, mostly. Sometimes he wished she didn’t understand as much and would be that girlfriend who just fawns over him unconditionally, no matter what he did. ‘Go find yourself a clueless bimbo then’ was her instant response when he joked about it once. Coz she was never going to be that & she made sure he understood that damn well. 

Jude had also realised that while he could often take a lot of liberties with her, and she’d let him, but when she drew a firm line it was set it stone. He didn’t tease her or mess with her when she got in such zones or such moods, which were rare but not too rare also. 

Work and family were two such no-go areas. She had no sense of humour when it came to those. If she was talking with her folks back home or on a work-call, even late-night, that space was sacrosanct and she did not like any histrionics there. Jude had spent a few nights laying next to her, waiting for her to wrap up work, but sometimes it spilled over & he had to go to bed unfulfilled. She’d feel guilty, offer to work from the living room so it doesn’t disturb him but he’d tell her he’d rather sleep with her next to him than be alone. 

Her family still didn’t know about him, barring one cousin, who was quite ambivalent about him being in her sister’s life. So he was absolutely not allowed to yap from behind if she was calling home. Jude didn’t understand why it was so sensitive for her; she was an independent 20 year old adult living far away from home. She had tried to explain how India was culturally different from how Jude had grown up. Her family was not conservative, not by any means, but even then, being in a relationship with a) a non-Indian and b) a high-profile footballer would be a massive shock for them and it needed to be dealt with carefully/gradually. 

Another touchy topic for her was anything perceived to be threatening her individuality / independence. 

One morning, sprawled on her bed, Jude had half-jokingly cribbed about the dress she had put on, calling it too distracting for work. It wasn’t revealing or anything, that wasn’t her style, but it was well fitted and complimented her figure beautifully. Ananya thought it was aesthetic and Jude just wanted to rip it off. The way she had swirled around and told him he had no business telling her what she was supposed to be wearing, Jude would never forget that look. He had immediately raised both hands in surrender, trying to explain it was a silly joke, but boy she had been pissed that day. It took Jude a while to recover from that fiasco. 

Another faux-pas he had walked into was when she took a rare girls night with Roma and a few colleagues from work. The couple had narrowly missed each other a few times that week so Jude was more than disappointed when she told him she was out instead of coming over to his. He had half-expected to see her at his place when he returned late from a shoot; sometimes she surprised him like that. 

‘Oh baby, I’ll see you soon, promise.’

She had slurred on the line when he called her, half-drunk. 

‘I needed you today. I thought you’d be here today.’

‘I wanted to see you too. But I didn’t know when you were getting done. And we were trying to get together for over a month, tonight was the first time all of us had a window. So came for a movie & now dinner.’

‘But what about us? What about me?’

‘Soon, promise.’

‘Will you come tonight?’

‘Jude, I can’t just take off on my friends like this.’

‘Why the hell not?’

The sheer entitlement & frustration in his voice set her off, like she owed him all her time. Oh the gall of him.

‘I’m not gonna be at your beck and call whenever you need me. I thought you understood that.’

‘Excuse me?’

‘You heard me. I wanted to dress up & let my hair down & dine at a fancy place & not be cooped up in the house for a change.’

That felt like a harsh slap in the face. She could have done all those things with him. He could have taken her to the fanciest of places, anywhere in the world, if only she’d let him.

‘Cooped up in the house yeah? Who’s that because of?’

Her. It was because of her. She didn’t want to go public with him, wasn’t ready for all the drama. Not yet. He knew why. He knew it very well. So she was stunned when he weaponised that & threw it in her face.

‘I’m not your fucking property, Jude. If you wanna act like a child, be my guest. But you better watch your tone when you talk to me.’

She hung up, and Jude stared at the phone, not knowing what hit him. When his anger subsided (took a while) and he revisited the conversation in his head, he grudgingly understood where he had fucked up. She didn’t react like this when he wanted to chill with his teammates or have a boys night with his lads from back home. So he really didn’t have a leg to stand on here. Plus he could have done better with his tone. But he missed her. He just missed her like hell.

All night, her phone kept buzzing with messages, and she knew who it was from but she didn’t spare it a look, not for a few hours.

‘Sorry.’

‘Missing you.’

‘Didn’t mean it like that.’

‘Talk to me for a min? Just wanna hear your voice.’

‘Pls don’t be mad.’

‘Love you.’ 

‘Ping me once?’

She let him suffer that night, before going back to his place the next day. They made up, like they always did, tangled in the sheets. And Jude learnt a very important lesson - she would give him the sun & the moon if he appealed to her love for him, if he asks nicely. Respect, chivalry and understanding were the keys to unlock her, not confrontation or domination. Well, domination worked sometimes too, but she needed to be in the zone for it.

And they found that zone quite often. Intimacy and passion was at the heart of their relationship.

Jude loved exploring with her. Pushing her boundaries bit by bit. Breaking down her walls gradually but decisively. Uncovering layers to their intimacy. Cataloguing all the breathless sounds she made for him. The way her eyes rolled back in their socket as she writhed under him. Every little twitch of her face, the frenzied moves of her body. Her total and absolute surrender to him was intoxicating - like a rare, potent, lethally erotic drug. Every time he had her, it spurred him on to have more. He just couldn’t get enough of her.

He was also a shameless flirt, which he never denied or shied away from. Always checking her out, never in dearth of lines to use.

‘Thinking of those tiny blue shorts that flaunt your ass.’

‘Get some rest now. Gonna binge on your minge when I get home.’

She was used to these messages out of nowhere, and him invading her personal space without any prior warning.

Ananya was shocked to discover how much she wanted him too. The thrill she felt every time he touched her. How he had mapped all her sensitive spots & played them like a fiddle. The way his beard tickled & teased her skin. She could read his intent well now - through his deeply expressive eyes, the way his voice turned huskier when he was in the mood, how his hands wandered on her body or slipped under her clothes, how his lips lingered on her skin for a few extra seconds, his his breath grazed her neck, and sometimes even by the tone of his texts. She could tell if it was going to be a long & slow kinda night or a rough, rapid, intense bout where she’d need to hide the marks next day. Much to her surprise, she looked forward to both. Jude had introduced her to the latter. Initially she was hesitant, wanting to do it for him. But now, she welcomed him making her body his playground. Using his height & strength advantage to toss her around. Having her hands pinned over her head or behind her. Being on her hands & knees. Bent over the counter. Tied to the headboard. Pressed up against a wall. Thrown over his shoulder. Being bounced manically as he took her standing, without any support, using his ridiculous arm strength, while she clung to him for dear life. In this territory, she didn’t mind his aggression & control. And while she couldn’t match up to his impossible stamina or voracious appetite, she did meet him half way.

She liked dressing up for him too - a section of her closet reserved for such occasions. And that section only grew larger, some by her doing and a lot by his. But it kept depleting also, ripped & torn off fervently, depending on his restraint or lack of it. 

Jude was used to taking the lead in bed, and he relished it. But he could also now tell when she was in the zone, trying to seduce him subtly. The way she leaned into his side. How she pressed her front into his chest or back, letting him feel her curves. How she batted her lashes at him, while wrapping her arms around his neck, pulling him in for a soft, deep kiss, moaning into his mouth. How she sat into his lap, moving in a way that was sure to get him excited. How she bit her lip, while moving her hands over his body, feeling his muscles. How her neckline was extra deep some nights, giving him a plump view of her cleavage. How much his sweaty glistening skin, from matches or workouts, turned her on. In most cases, he took the cue & took her up on her offer. But sometimes, he liked to hear her say it out loud. On those nights, he tormented her slowly, playing with her, keeping her on the edge till she screams it out. Only then he’d relent & smile victoriously, burying himself in her warm, inviting heat & rocking them to ecstasy. 

He loved branding her with his marks, and enjoyed her efforts the following morning to cover them up thoroughly. 

‘Why bother so much?’

‘Anyone would.’

‘I don’t.’

‘Any decent person would.’

Jude never cared when her nail marks on his back / biceps were visible during training or in the locker room. He just laughed them off when other folks teased him. Most of his teammates were like that, barring a few shy ones like Arda. Special teasing was reserved for the shy ones.

The winter clothes were a big help to her, for now.

‘What will you do in the summer?’

‘Discipline you.’

‘Good luck with that.’

Jude was spontaneous, but he liked the anticipation of planned trysts too. As did she. Especially during role-plays (another aspect she was shocked to discover that she loved). 

His favourite such night was Valentine’s Day. Jude had pulled out all the stops that night to make it special - dressing in the black turtleneck that she was crazy about, decorating the living room (with red heart-shaped balloons but hey, he tried), ordering her favourite ravioli from a high-end Michelin star restaurant and a bottle of some very fine red wine which he knew she’d enjoy. Those were his gifts for her. As his gift, he wanted to see her in Indian attire. More specifically as an Indian new bride. Since he had seen that photo of her in a sari, this had been an open demand from him, and Valentine's Day seemed like the perfect occasion for it.

When she came down the stairs, dressed in a sleeveless v-neck cream blouse, red chiffon saree, open brown hair sliding down her back, cream heels, golden jewellery (bangles, choker necklace, earrings) and a fucking waist chain, Jude felt like he had died and gone to heaven. He stood frozen, unable to take his eyes off of her as she glided in front of him, waving her soft hands to get his attention.

Dinner was long forgotten. Every fucking thing faded in the background. His world revolved around this sorceress who had just made his brain short-circuit. 

‘Earth to Jude, are you there?’

‘Naa he’s dead. You killed him. Mercilessly.’

Jude took her hand and twirled her slowly, taking in the full 360* view. She obliged playfully, flipping her hair for effect, as his eyes roamed over her form & the way that sinful garment hugged her at all the right places, accentuating her curves, particularly that round behind. His hands rested on her bare waist while her henna-painted ones went to his shoulders. Jude loved the smell of it, inhaling deeply.

‘Some things are different?’

‘Yeah. I couldn’t put the sindoor and mangalsutra - only married women can wear that.’

‘Not even for one night?’

‘No, it’s inauspicious.’

‘The bangles are different too?’

‘Yeah. The ones you saw are called chooda. Again, only a married woman wears that, for a few weeks after the wedding.’

‘Hmmm.’

‘You don’t like it like this?’

Jude looked at her like she had suddenly grown horns, thoroughly shocked at the comment, and she got her answer. Next second, she felt his large hand cupping her butt, pulling her close, moving slightly against her to let the bulge do the talking. 

She glanced at the food longingly, then looked into his hungrier eyes, and relented. Without wasting any time, Jude picked her up and carried her bridal style up the stairs. He had considered the couch but tonight he needed the bed to properly enjoy her. Her sari was first to go, followed by her petticoat, panties & jewellery, only the waist chain stayed on (he was fascinated with it), along with her anklets. 

Removing the sari was quite an experience. He pulled at it with force, spinning her around with ease as the garment slid off her body. While she tried to slow him down wherever it was held together with pins. She would have giggled at it, if he didn’t look like he wanted to eat her alive then & there. 

Ananya shuddered on the bed underneath him as he licked down her face, lapping at her ruby painted lips, dipping into her mouth briefly for a quick taste, trailing down her neck into her cleavage, while pulling apart the threads holding her blouse together. There was silence tonight, only the sounds of their heavy breathing & her soft gaps cutting through the tension, along with Jude’s intermittent grunts.

He pulled at the waist chain with his teeth, inserting his tongue into her bellybutton and she nearly leapt off the bed, moaning his name wildly, his weight on top serving as her anchor. Jude was struggling to rein in his lust, and that served as the final straw. Pinning her hands on either side of her, he entered her fully in two precise thrusts, making her head spin and her toes curl.

‘J-Jude..’

‘Shhhhh.’

What followed was the most unhinged she had ever seen him. He was painfully hard already, so he went straight for her secret spot, hitting it repeatedly to get her pleasure to build rapidly, matching his own state, while his mouth devoured her sensitive peaks. Sucking with such fervour as if willing them to lactate. When she shut her eyes at the sensations, he bit the underside of her boob, a silent command to not hide from him. Gasping, she locked eyes with him, mouthing a silent ‘easy, jaan’ as he slid his teeth to her hardened nubs, tugging at them.

Jude was gone tonight. The bed creaked violently under them. It was an overwhelming intensity, so much that she could almost feel him in her throat. Ananya struggled under his hold to release her wrists. The more she struggled, the tighter his grip got, sure to leave bruises. She squirmed in vain as he continued his two-pronged assault, via his mouth & nether regions, taking her closer & closer to the edge. She willed her body to comply, knowing that he won’t let go before she did, and came screaming his name with a pointed, decisive stroke, shuddering uncontrollably underneath him. He didn’t relent, keeping up his pace through it, chasing his own high but it was too much & she had to use the safe word.

Jude paused, let go of her wrists, slowly returning to his senses. Still buried inside, he crawled up her spent form, caressing her face with the back of his fingers till she finally opened her eyes.

‘Hey.’

She just blinked at him. Jude lifted her palm, kissing the bruised wrist, trailing his lips down her arm and pecking the corner of her mouth. She hummed in content, as he repeated that with the other arm, wrapping both around his neck.

‘Breathe doll, nice & easy.’

He cooed softly. And she followed like clockwork, cupping his face, connecting their foreheads. Still hyper-aware of his hard, thick length inside her.

‘I love you.’

He whispered the magic words against her lips, and she sighed deeply.

‘Just a bit more, yeah? Can you do it for me princess?’

She would do anything for him if he held her like that. 

‘Okay….okay.’

Jude grabbed a pillow & placed it under her back to turn her upwards, and changed to his preferred angle, as her legs dangled around his back. Her hands massaged his shoulders and upper arms, calming him down, slowing him down too, wordlessly. She continued to trace his face with her fingers, as he groaned gutturally, reaching his high. For minutes after, he just stayed inside (something he had started doing more & more) and on top. 

When he finally rolled away, and she regained her breath thinking they could do down for their meal now, Jude had a different kind of meal cooking in his head. He sprinted downstairs to fetch the bottle of wine, and dragged her naked form to the shower, washing her, drinking the rich, rare wine off her body. Spilling it down her neck then licking it off her curves. Then repeating it on her back, drinking it off the curve of her hips. Pouring it from his mouth into hers, so she could taste him along with the wine. Turning her red in more ways than one. Later, he went down on her, making her see stars while she also worked up the nerves to use her hands on him (for the first time). His takeover of her senses and body was absolute tonight, and the colour never left her face. She hid under the blanket later, unable to meet his eyes, once her mind recovered enough to process their activities. Jude cajoled his way under the blanket, cooing into her ear, spooning her from behind, showering praises in that silky smooth voice as to how this was the best night of his life, and how she had been an absolute goddess. How she was made for him. They had their dinner in bed, and then crashed to a much needed sleep. 

Condoms were antiquated history for Jude now. From the very beginning, since she got on the pill and he got a taste of what skin-to-skin feels like, he simply refused to go back, like his whole life had been a lie. Even on some rushed occasions, when there wasn’t enough window to clean up the mess later, he whined & reasoned to not have to put one on, only relenting when she absolutely put her foot down. But the frequency and intensity of their escapades always left a silent fear in the back of her head. The fear came alive one morning, when she realised she was two days late for her cycle.

It hit her like a truck. She never got late (barring some rare occasions involving health, stress etc), so the panic was in full swing. Ananya barely got through the day at work, mechanically finishing her tasks and confiding in Roma in the evening on their way back. She had iced out Jude all day, undecided on how to deal with him or what to even tell him right now. But the nosy detective that he was (especially when it came to her), he figured something was off and landed at her place unannounced later that evening. By then, Roma had almost convinced her to take a pregnancy test, while she cried into her arms on how her whole life was ending.

Jude was alarmed to see her state, and both girls were confused what to tell him. Roma suggested it maybe best if he comes back later but Jude absolutely refused, looking straight at Ananya, who was looking everywhere but at him. He could’t take it anymore & just held her tightly in his arms.

‘Dove, it’s me. What can’t you tell me? What’s gotten you like this?’

She just let her body go, resting against him, sniffling a little into his sweatshirt. Roma left the room to give them some space. A thousand horrible thoughts hit Jude simultaneously. 

‘Has something happened? Did someone…hurt you? Baby pls I’m dying out here.’

He titled her face up, staring straight into her eyes.

‘I’m….late.’

It took him a few seconds to understand what she meant. And the world came crashing down on him too. Ananya was nervous about his reaction, but somehow those fears were proven unwarranted. Because he quickly got into a problem solving mode, getting over the initial shock.

‘You used the pill daily right? You even had the app.’

‘Yes.’

‘So we’re going to be fine. Take the test, I’m waiting here.’

‘But what if we’re not? What if…..’

‘Babe, let’s not speculate. Let’s take the test first yeah?’

‘I’m scared.’

Well, he was scared too, but he was steady for her in that moment.

‘I’m here. I’ve got you.’

‘Why aren’t you freaking out?’

‘Coz looking at you I thought it was something much worse. This, we can handle.’

The next few minutes were the longest of her life. Ananya couldn’t breathe till the result came out negative. She refused to even look at the stick, Roma checked it and broke the news to her. And finally she stopped hyperventilating. Jude ordered some blueberry cheesecake and ravioli, which she hogged, having starved herself under stress all day. Once the storm had settled down, and they were lying in bed together, scrolling through Netflix to pick a new show, Jude made a joke. At least he thought it was funny.

‘So you thought I could break even the pill yeah?’

She turned to look at his smirking face filled with a weird sense of cockiness.

‘You find this funny? No seriously is this a joke to you? Are you proud of your vigorous masculinity?’

Once again, he didn’t know what hit him, feeling like a proper fool for inviting this onslaught. 

‘I was just…’

‘Just what? What if it was positive, huh? But you wouldn’t have to lift a finger even then. I would have to go through the procedure, and I bet you have no idea how painful it is. Did you study biology in school? Or did you only hear till the point of sex and nothing after? Not the consequences? Not what comes after all your fun? Such a typical guy.’

Jude was sitting with his head down, like a schooled kid.

‘Am sorry, I really didn’t know it was painful.’

‘….I would have to tell at home, coz how could I keep something so major from them? But sure, you go ahead & make your jokes. Seriously the universe if so unfair - I wish you guys had to go through half the things we do. If your bodies had to bear the brunt of all your fetishes. But no - even god is unfair to women. So what can I even expect from men like you?’

Without giving him a chance to respond, she stormed off the bed and slammed the door of the washroom to take a shower to cool down. While Jude simply stared after her.

Roma was standing in the doorway, shaking her head slowly at the mess, leaning against the side. She had come to check on Ananya after listening to all the commotion.

‘Maybe the club should take IQ tests along with medical tests before signing players?’

Jude gave her a half-hurt half-dirty look.

‘Gee thanks. What an awesome friend you are.’

‘You’re welcome. Now try not to dig a deeper hole for yourself & call me when she comes out.’

Jude stuck his tongue out at her and she simply waved him off while walking away.

When Ananya came out after 30 mins, smelling like strawberries from her shower, dressed in a comfy fluffy pink bathrobe, Jude simply hugged her from behind, keeping his chin on her shoulder, rubbing his cheek against hers, slowly swaying her in his hold, whispering in her ear how he was her silly baby. She gave in soon, because one needed to be a battle-hardened soldier to stay mad at that face for long. And she couldn’t see him sad, especially when it was her doing; a fact he knew & exploited with impunity. But she did keep him at an arm’s length for a few days after, still spooked by what nearly happened, and Jude has to slowly claw his way back under the sheets.

Thankfully, that had been the only pregnancy scare so far. And Jude never whined after that whenever Ananya suggested using a condom.

Passion was a cornerstone of their relationship. But it surprised Jude how much he craved her otherwise too. How much her proximity (or lack of it) impacted his mood.

Ananya thoroughly revelled in their domestic moments. The little things he did for her, almost instinctively now. All the sweet treats that came his way through events, sponsorships etc were passed on to her & Roma. As did some exclusive club merchandise, which both the girls simply loved donning. Pre-match & post-match messages from her was a ritual between them, irrespective of the result. As were the late night calls, when he was out for away games or international break. Jude never missed sending her flowers every week; by now Ananya had seen almost all varieties discovered by mankind since Jude’s brief to the florist was to send new ones every time. On the two rare occasions that he missed it, he sent extra large ones to her office to make up for it.

‘I know what you’re doing.’

‘And what’s that?’

‘Using this to re-establish to folks here that I’m taken.’

‘Calling me smart?’

‘Calling you ruthless.’

‘Love it.’

Weekly movie nights were a norm too, sometimes with the three of them. On most occasions, Roma & Jude acted like long-lost twins, perfectly in sync. On the rare exceptions, they got on each others’ nerves like hell and Ananya had to play referee in the middle, balancing between her boyfriend and best friend. 

The absolute melting point for Ananya was to watch fans respond to Jude, and the love he had already earned in his first season. Watching him with kids practically made her heart do somersaults. And her ovaries burst with anticipation. The feeling was indescribable - the way kids sought him out, clung to him, played with him, laughed with him, idolised him, cried for him - it was just pure & serene, something to be felt only by Jude & those around him. He was special, and the kids’ love was the deepest affirmation possible.

Jude was chronically online whenever he was idle, which meant Ananya often had the most random & diverse messages waiting for her, at ungodly times. Holiday destinations, funny memes, quotes from classics (he was trying out of FOMO since Jobe & Ananya often discussed this at length), football history, Spotify playlists (too much of Elvis for her liking but she never said that out loud), new branded fits, videos from training sessions or matches, pics of lingerie he was planning to buy for her, pics of food he could never eat but lived vicariously when she did, pics of English countryside (he had taken offence when she claimed Switzerland was more picturesque) his selfies, some old photos he had clicked of her & of them together, and many other things. She had learnt never to open his messages in company, because sometimes they ranged from fluffy to downright filthy, and he owned both with pride. 

Probably the trickiest point that they constantly navigated was her feelings on Jude’s previous lifestyle & the ramifications on their current life. After the Christmas fiasco (which had nearly ended them for good), Jude was quite mindful of his behaviour. And overshared with her for good measure even if the situation was borderline tricky - say with a shoot or some DMs or some fan attention. But given how popular & sought after he was with women, the kind of reactions he drew wherever he went, it was never going to be easy for Ananya. He was constantly flooded with propositions, some harmless, some not, and had immense access all the time. His submission was for her to trust that he won’t abuse that access, won’t act on it, simply because he doesn’t need to now that he had her. 

But the aftershock of that Christmas picture was still buried somewhere in her heart; it never truly went away. The lingering doubt never truly went away. In a vulnerable moment, when both of them were slightly tipsy, she brought it up.

‘Do you ever miss aspects of that life? The carefree fun & thrill?’

‘No.’

‘C’mon Jude.’

‘Not at the cost of you.’

To his credit, his stance had always been this. Always consistent. But she chose to push further.

‘Did you ever feel like going back?’

He looked at her with those big eyes, pleading to not pursue it. But she was on a mission tonight.

‘You can tell me. I won’t get mad.’

‘Yeah you’re just saying it. Then you’ll get all weird & distant.’

‘I won’t. Surely there has to be something.’

Jude was torn, but the alcohol had numbed his brain more than usual, as had her soft voice & calming presence. 

‘Like….very early on..,when we were fighting, and that whole asshole episode….when you weren’t…we weren’t….’

‘Sleeping together.’

‘..Yes.’

She had guessed as much. Sex was important to him. But how could she hold that against him when it was true for most men, especially those in his position.

‘I…just thought it’d be easier…less complicated….like maybe I wasn’t cut out for this…not now maybe…the feelings for you were new & confusing….but it was a passing thought…like super brief.’

She heard him out patiently, piecing together what he wasn’t saying, keeping her tone & face neutral, devoid of any judgement.

‘Then why didn’t you?’

‘Act on it?’

‘Yeah.’

‘Coz it was brief…I wasn’t…it wasn’t…’

‘But still.’

‘Because that would mean the end of us. That wasn’t an option. That isn’t an option.’

Her gaze was firm & piercing, trying to break through any potential charade. But she didn’t find any. And he pulled her close, kissing her softly, as she settled on his chest.

Now, Jude could have stayed quiet and could have let this moment pass peacefully. But he ended up yapping more & put his foot in his mouth.

‘Even for stuff you can’t do with your girlfriend, it just wasn’t worth it, y’know.’

She pulled away, crossing her arms, face all analysing again. 

‘Yeah? And what is that stuff that you can’t do with your girlfriend? That you were doing elsewhere?’

Jude was alert now. He wondered if his mum had dropped him on his head as a kid, coz how could he consistently find himself in such situations, of his own doing? Especially when his girlfriend was a lawyer or Sherlock Holmes or a bloodhound in a previous life? How could he be so fucking stupid in front of her?

‘You promised to not get mad.’

‘Not mad. Just curious.’

‘Tell that to your face.’

‘Don’t change the topic, Jude.’

‘Can we pls let this go, Ananya? What good will come of this? We’ll just spoil our night.’

Thing is, his past befuddled her. She absolutely didn’t want to know yet a part of her really wanted to know. Like ripping off a band-aid. And getting through every unpleasant information in one go. So there are no surprises anymore. But she didn’t know how to do it without judging. He believed being single gave him all the freedom in the world and their moral wavelengths just didn’t match at all. It was never going to. So grudgingly, she let it go.

Jude’s abstinence from certain activities, which he was a regular in earlier, was soon noticed by some of his teammates, especially Vini & Cama. And the fact that he was on his phone a lot, with a gooey face (in Cama’s words). They figured it out, and hounded him till he had to come clean. But he didn’t tell them who he was seeing (he wasn’t allowed to), just said there is someone, and showed a quick photo to shut their mouths. Since then, they referred to her as Jude’s girl. 

He had also been selective in introducing Ananya to his teammates. His previous partners-in-crime were nowhere on the list. The memo was clear in his head - committed guys with a clean reputation who will not blab him out.

Brahim and his girlfriend were invited over for lunch. Toni & his wife for coffee. Ananya was cool with Brahim - they got along well quickly and the conversation flowed naturally. But she hyperventilated when she saw Toni, the fan in her dancing a Flamenco inside. Jude kept elbowing her to reduce the pitch of her voice or not blink like a crazy person, but how was she supposed to be normal around one of Madrid’s greatest players ever? The cornerstone of their best years? Toni fucking Kroos. The absolute machine. And she was sitting across him in Jude’s lawn, just like that? Talking about fucking doughnuts? Like seriously?

The moment they walked out the door, she jumped into Jude’s arms and kissed his face all over. Jude balanced her by holding onto her butt, settling on the couch with her in his lap as she continued to put lipgloss marks on his face enthusiastically.

‘I love you I love you I love you I love you I loveeeee youuuuuuu!’

‘Because I got you to Toni?’

‘Yes.’

‘Not for me?’

‘Yeah that too.’

‘Thanks.’

‘Awwiiee my little bean my pumpkin my sweet babu - such a cute boy.’

Ananya was never one to bombard him with multiple nicknames (that was Jude’s territory), so the boy was extra amused at her antics. 

‘I think my baby deserves a special reward for making his girlfriend so so happy.’

Suddenly, the mood shifted. She took off her top slowly, leaving her in a dark pink bra. Jude’s eyes were glued there. And his body immediately responded when she guided his palm to her breasts, letting him play with them as he pleased.

‘The baby agrees.’

Jude pulled it down, and started sucking the soft brown peaks like a starved man. This is how he wished to be welcomed home every night - his girlfriend all pretty & naked for him, serving her tits into his mouth.

‘Not so soon. My turn first.’

Jude groaned loudly when he was removed from his personal fountain of heaven. Her fingers in his hair tugging his head back, craning it up for her.

She smiled and bit softly at his cheekbones, the sharp tip of his nose, his plump lips. She tilted his head further up to kiss along his neck & his sexy AF beard, bite his prominent Adam’s apple (her guilty pleasure), then twisted her head to reach the taut muscles at the back of his neck. He sighed softly all through, loving the attention. It nearly made up for his deprivation, nearly. Plus his hands were still there.

Ananya ended with biting his earlobe softly, whispering seductively in his ear.

‘I see what you’re doing though, how you’re picking the folks. You’re too plain like that.’

Jude’s brain capacity was significantly reduced at this point.

‘I’m plain?’

She rolled her eyes at how offended and confused he sounded. Such vanity!

‘Not your looks, jeez. But your moves, yes.’

‘Huh?’

‘Still wanna meet the others, especially Cama.’

That messed with his mood.

‘No.’

‘Why?’

‘You know why.’

‘Remind me.’

‘You find him more adorable than me.’

‘How do you know that?’

‘Umm because you’ve said it like a zillion times.’

She threw her head back & giggled, slowly pulling his track pants down and sliding one hand inside, earning a desperate moan from him.

‘Maybe.’

‘Then maybe I should tell you about all his extra curricular activities. It’s a long list.’

She batted her eyes at him, tilting her head to the side, unperturbed.

‘Oh, but then I’ll get a sense of your extra curricular activities too, no?’

Jude always avoided this topic like plague; they both knew that. He stared at the sexy menace in his lap, who was out-manoeuvring & check-mating him with ease. How & when did she learn that?

His hand cupped her butt, then spanked it with force. She gasped loudly, surprised at the suddenness.

‘Getting too smart for your own good, little dove.’

‘Smart is my second name.’

Jude lifted her out of his lap & threw her on the couch, getting on top of her. Pinning her down decisively.

‘STOP TALKING ABOUT OTHER MEN WHEN YOU’RE NAKED WITH ME.’

‘Yeah? What are you going to do about it?’

‘Gonna fuck this attitude right out of you.’

Jude grabbed her top from the floor and used it to tie her hands together, behind her. She immediately felt vulnerable, having no line of physical defence anymore. He pressed his bare leaking tip on her belly, enjoying her shudders, then slid it up her body to her tits, pressing into both, settling between them, cupping them with his hands to build friction. The tip hit her chin with each calculated stroke of his. And she knew he wanted nothing more than to shove it into her mouth, something he hadn’t gotten from her yet.

Her helpless whimpers were music to his ears.

‘Not so lippy anymore?’

She could only moan in response. Which turned into a loud gasp when he spread her legs impossibly wide, made a sloppy mess of her core with his mouth, then slapped it lightly, all while rendering her helpless. As if making a point that all of her belonged only to him. That he was taking what was his.

Before she could get any words out, he flipped them to move her on top. For the next 20 mins, he bounced her on himself mercilessly, thoroughly extracting his reward, as she struggled to find any anchor or purchase from the position. 

Exhausted, they snuggled on the couch after, lying side by side, recovering from the impromptu session. Jude lazily played with her hair, while she wondered about the stain they would have left on the pristine white couch.

‘Still can’t believe I just met Toni Kroos.’

Jude gave her a side-eye, expressing his displeasure at this being her first thought, after what they just did. But she squeezed his cheeks in response, which he grudgingly got out of.

‘Wonder what you’ll do if I’ll call someone else…let's say….Zidane?’

She stilled, then turned towards him.

‘Can you?’

Well, he had just said it for fun, he obviously was not on such familiar terms with the great Zizou.

‘Maybe. What will I get then?’

‘What do you want?’

He nibbled on her bottom lip, a naughty smirk plastered on his face.

‘Anything. Everything. However many times I ask for.’

She met his lustful gaze head on, familiar with his game by now.

‘It’s possible. If you bring me you know who.’

‘Ronaldo.’

‘Bingo.

‘Nope.’

‘Why?’

‘You’ll jump on him in front of me.’

‘Pls, I’ll never embarrass myself like that.’

‘Don’t trust you around him.’

‘Nonsense. I might faint or get a heart attack if he knows I exist but I am not gonna jump on him for sure.’

‘You’ll tell him you love him. That he’s your favourite.’

‘I do love him. And he’s my favourite. You know that.’

‘Yeah not gonna happen.’

‘Whatever you’re just a hater.’

She made a face & tried to move away but his grip on her waist tightened.

‘What?’

She could tell he wanted to say something, but was hesitating.

‘Do you love him more than me?’

Jude was nervous about the answer. There is a reason he had waited months to bring this up. 

Colour drained from Ananya’s face. In real time. But she was supposed to be the wordsmith here, she could get out of this.

‘I love him differently and you differently. Chalk & cheese. Can’t be compared.’

‘That’s not what I asked.’

‘Well, your question is flawed.’

She had loved her favourite player for 15-16 years. He was the reason she fell in love with football  and Madrid in the first place. And a part of her died when he left Madrid. Of course she loved him, deeply. It was obvious. What was Jude even asking?

‘Still, answer it.’

‘Jude….’

‘It's him, isn’t it?’

‘I didn’t say that.’

‘So if we draw Portugal in the Euros, you’d root for them to win? Over me?’

‘I…it’s not that simple.’

‘Wow!’

‘I’d probably root for a draw.’

‘And if it’s a knockout? Will my own girlfriend not be in my corner in one of the most important games of my life?’

Jude was throwing the kitchen sink at her - the sad words, the long face, the puppy eyes, the hurt voice, the deflated shoulders. She felt very, very guilty. But she wasn’t going to lie to him.

‘I’m sorry love. Don’t know how to feel about this. Would always want you to do well, obviously, but I can’t also root against him in his last Euros.’

Jude couldn’t believe it, and sulked for a good while after that. She cooked for him & fussed over him for hours, and he eventually cheered up. Because, it was tough for him to stay mad at her too.

Introducing her to his friends from back home was far less complicated. They were coming over for a home game, and Jude invited everyone to his place the next evening to formally introduce them to his girlfriend. 

‘No female friends or girlfriends?’

‘Nope.’

‘All guys?’

‘Yeah. That a problem?’

‘Problem? No. Just too much testosterone energy. Would have been nice to have a girl in the mix.’

Jude laughed so expressively that he nearly dropped the coffee cup on himself.

‘Will remember to be pally with more girls then, just for your sake.’

She chose to ignore that.

‘So, how deeply have they been instructed to not dish out anything about your escapades?’

Very deeply & thoroughly, in a serious tone. Many stories were off limits. Jude was well aware of her ability to connect the dots. 

‘Don’t know what you’re talking about.’

‘Right.’

Ananya was nervous about meeting them. She wondered if they’d like her, given how different their upbringing and cultures were. It had taken Jude also a while to understand her sensibilities.

But Jude didn’t leave her side that evening, his proximity a warm assurance to her. An arm over her shoulder or around her waist, a hand on her lap, or just holding hands with her. He was right there. Explaining an inside joke she didn’t have context on. Or cutting the group’s banter when he thought it was too much / too soon for her. Ananya felt all fuzzy inside when he spoke about her work & pedigree, propping her up as best he could. She loved seeing him in his element too - unguarded, unfiltered, vivacious - with friends who knew him inside out. All his animated goofy antics on full display. 

Whenever Jude couldn’t be around, Jobe was by her side. She had been relieved to know that Jobe was coming over too, and the duo had hung out that afternoon while Jude had been away for training. She had developed her own, easy dynamic with Jobe, outside of being Jude’s brother. Jude often wondered what those two talked about for so long, but never asked either of them. Mostly he was just glad that they had hit it off, coz both were reserved in their own ways, unlike him. 

Jude loved showing her off that evening. Grinning from ear to ear when she dumbed down her work in basic simple words, just for everyone’s benefit. How the group responded to her natural ease & sharp wit. How some were secretly in awe of her confidence & brains, a little bit, Jude could tell. And when they discovered she was a genuine football fan (not pretending to be one to look cool or fit in), the ice broke completely. Many football stories followed after - most involving Jude & some of his ‘not so god-like’ moments on the pitch. She soaked in everything - paying close attention to everyone. Later that night, when the party progressed to some music and Jude put his hands on her, swaying her hips to the tune (as was their routine), there were loud cheers of ‘get a room’. Ananya was flustered, wiggling out of his hold while Jude just laughed & gave them a middle finger. It was a fun night.

Mostly a fun night, barring one unpleasant incident. One of his friends made a somewhat loose remark on Ananya, which Jude overheard. It wasn’t much, could have easily been written off as banter, and frankly wasn’t an uncommon or a new line in their group. He had heard it before. Hell, he had said it before. But this time, it made Jude’s head hot. While others had caught on that this was different for Jude, this particular friend was either too drunk or just daft.

Toby elbowed the said friend, telling him to shut his trap, while Jobe was on Jude’s side, watching his brother, ready to intervene if needed. Jude considered asking Jobe to take Ananya inside, who was helping the housekeeper set up the desserts some distance away, while he deals with the situation. But many eyes turned on him to impress upon him that it wasn’t worth it.

The said friend was apologising profusely, which fell on deaf ears. He eventually decided to not ruin the night, for others, but mostly for her. However, Jude wasn’t going to allow that guy to be anywhere near Ananya.

‘Get out.’

With that, Jude went to find the only person who could calm him down right now. Ananya felt his arm wrap around her waist, more possessive than usual, pulling her into his side. She smiled up at him, but could’t recognise the look on his face. Jobe jogged over, and the brothers exchanged a look. She looked between them, then at Jobe, who gave her a reassuring nod and walked away after patting Jude’s shoulder. While Jude’s hand fidgeted on her waist.

‘Honey, what’s wrong?’

Jude was mad at the guy. But somewhere he was more mad at himself. It was because of who he was, rather who he had been, that the guy was able to take the liberty to make such a comment on her. He was fighting the urge of going after the guy and apologising to her at the same time. His thoughts were in mayhem. His eyes reflecting the storm inside.

Her soft voice & concerned eyes anchored him back, as did her hand gently stroking his chest. When he didn’t say anything, she nudged him down for a soft kiss, breaking her rule of no PDA. Swallowing his irritation. When they parted, Jude smiled at his magical girl, and Ananya led him back to the group. 

That night triggered something in Jude. He wanted to show her off to the world now. Wanted to have her on his arm. Wanted to go out to dinner dates & clubs with her. Wanted to claim her as his girlfriend. Wanted the whole fucking world to know who she belonged to, and what she meant to him. 

The return leg against Manchester City provided the perfect opportunity. She was in London that week for work, 75 mins away from the stadium. When Jude asked her a couple of days before the match, it didn’t go down as he intended. There was silence on the line, and his mood already was in the bin.

‘Will you say something?’

She didn’t know what to say, completely caught off-guard by his question. 

‘I-I don’t know what my schedule would be like. If I’d get done in time for the match.’

‘It’s at night. I can still send the passes and you can come if you get done? You can bring Roma too, I’ll handle the logistics.’

Silence again. Jude was losing patience and cut to the chase.

‘You don’t even wanna try do you?’

‘Jude, it’s not like that. But we shouldn’t rush into this. It’s a massive thing.’

‘6 months. We’ve been together 6 months, Ananya.’

‘I know. But I’m in the middle of this crazy cross-geography deal, and I still have a few MBA interviews lined up for next week. The safe schools, but still. There is so much going on. Maybe we should wait for a better time?’

‘And when would that be?’

‘Jude, we need to plan for this. I’m in the London office right now. How do you think I’d be able to walk into the boardroom with all our directors and clients next day if we actually go through with this? What would they be thinking when I’ll be running through my presentation?’

‘You tell me - what would they be thinking?’

‘They’ll only see me as your girlfriend Jude.’

A 20 yr old frivolous (easy) piece of ass. Not an investment banking analyst specialising in leveraged buyouts. That is, if her MD doesn’t decide to leave her out of the presentation to avoid any drama.

It was his turn to be silent. She could hear his heavy breath while she waited anxiously for a response.

‘Is it so terrible for you to be seen as my girlfriend? Even after all this time?’

His voice was low. Vulnerable. Hurt. How she wished she was there with him right now.

‘Nothing baby. So long as people see me beyond that too. Which is why we need to time this right  -  at work, with my parents - we need to find the perfect tim….’

‘There’s never going to be a perfect time. You’ll have to rip off the band-aid at some point. Given how painful it seems to be for you.’

The truth in his words cut deeply. There was nothing she could say to soothe him, despite knowing he was hurting. She tried, but no words came out, leading to a deafening silence.

He hung up shortly after, with a curt goodnight, and Ananya didn’t know what to do with herself. Sleep eluded both that night. Jude kept to himself during the flight next morning, saying he was tired. The team let him be. He didn’t respond to her messages of good morning or safe travels. Left them on unread all day. Only giving in at night after returning from the stadium. 

The match was next night. He desperately needed some sleep but somehow his body was refusing his command. And he knew the cure to his restlessness - avoiding her was not it. Even his treacherous body didn’t allow it.

He dialled her number, and she picked up in three rings, on her way back to her hotel. It was 11 pm - Jude couldn’t help but check on the route she was taking & how far out she was, only slumping back in bed once he was satisfied with her response. Long silence followed after the pleasantries, which she eventually broke.

‘How was your day?’

‘Shitty as fuck.’

‘Mine too, baby. But it’s such a big day for you & the team tomorrow. Maybe let’s focus on that, yeah? Let’s win tomorrow baby. Think about it - you returning home & knocking out the defending champions, the favourites, on their turf. Avenging last year’s loss. With your family & friends cheering you on. We’ll get to the semis Jude, in your first year. Think how amazing that would be.’

‘You won’t be there.’

‘I’m so sorry, my love. Tell me what can I do to make it up to you and I will. But this can’t be the reason that holds you back tomorrow - I need to see you shine on that pitch. To give your 200% and more. It’s the big occasion, and I need my big game player to show the world what he’s made of. So tell me, what will it take?’

He knew the answer right away. 

‘Come home with me this weekend. To Birmingham.’

Jude had a window after this match and before the international break. He was going home for a few days, she knew that. His parents had asked about meeting her a few times - she had met Jobe & his friends after all, but never the parents. Not even a few times they had been with Jude in Madrid. Jude had tested waters during one such trip, but figured it was too soon for her. She had told him she’d never met a boyfriend’s parents before, and it was a very big deal in her world. So he gave her space and bought time with his parents. But it had been 6 months now, more than enough time.

Ananya took a few deep breaths. What he was asking for was fair. Nerve-wrecking but fair. She couldn’t deny him this, she didn’t have the heart to, no matter how nervous this made her.

‘Ok.’

‘What?’

‘I said ok.’

‘You’ll come with me?’

‘Yes Jude.’

‘Not going to bail on me?’

‘No. I’ll work from there if I have to but I’ll come.’

All restlessness evaporated from his body as he slowly processed her words. He found a pillow, hugging it close, remembering her scent.

‘Gonna win for you tomorrow.’

‘You do that. I’ll be watching you.’

‘Love you.’

‘Love you more.’

‘Not possible.’

Ananya made him hang up shortly after, saying he needed the rest, and Jude drifted off to a sound sleep.

Once she reached her hotel, she banged on Roma’s door. Roma was taking a relaxing shower after a long day but ran out to find an impatient Ananya on the other side. 

‘I’m meeting his parents.’

‘What? When?’

‘THIS WEEKEND. And I don’t have anything to wear. This is a nightmare.’

Roma stood in her bathrobe, leaning against the closet, listening to Ananya rant for 10 mins. It was ridiculous, her friend had the most age appropriate closet she had ever seen. And she was golden when it came to the kind of girls Jude was likely to bring home. Sheer fucking golden. 

But Roma took her best friend duties seriously. She tried to talk sense into Ananya, promised to figure out her wardrobe tomorrow, then practically dragged her to the bathtub and pushed her inside so she could calm the fuck down.

Madrid won the next night. The girls were ecstatic, jumping on their hotel bed ecstatic, ordering late night champagne to their room to celebrate. Ananya was so proud of him. He had been imperial on the pitch, relentless. Her heart ached to be there with him, especially when he wanted her so. But it was only a matter of 2 days now - Friday evening she’d travel to Birmingham to spend the weekend in his family home. 

Thursday night, Ananya turned her (& Roma’s) suitcases upside down to find the right clothes. Asking Jude what would be appropriate was a royal waste of time - he just looked at her like she was asking him the square root of 1691. Then said cool to everything she showed him. Jobe, the otherwise reliable, sane one just gave her an incredulous look too. She realised the brothers had the same WTF face. She also concluded that men were an utterly useless breed in most cases. Next evening, she got in the car that Jude insisted he would send, and was on her way. 

At the other end, Jude was chomping at the bit all evening. Bouncing around the house in anticipation. When she was 5 mins away and took a wrong turn, he frowned at the screen.

‘Pls don’t tell me you’re tracking her phone.’

‘Oh she’ll murder me with her bare tiny hands. I’m tracking the driver.’

‘Of course.’

The car had barely parked in the driveway around 10 pm when Jude opened her gate, pulled her out, hugged her tight, lifting her straight off the ground. She wrapped her arms around his neck. Both whispering ‘missed you’ together. They hadn’t seen each other in 10 days. Not even on her 21st birthday a week ago, since she was in London for work. 

About 30 seconds later, she tapped on his back to put her down, and he did. Jude held her hand and picked up her bag with the other one, leading her to the house.

He could tell she was nervous; it was kinda cute. But she really had no reason to be. His parents were super cool and he just knew they’d love her. 

‘You’re fine. It’s gonna be fine.’

He whispered before opening the door. And they met Jobe on the other side. He gave her a quick side hug, with a sweet ‘welcome home’. That put her at ease, somewhat.

Mark & Denise were in the living room. She wasn’t sure how to greet them or what to call them, so she had decided to go with Mr. and Mrs. Bellingham. But before she could open her mouth & embarrass herself, Mark came over & lightly patted her shoulder.

‘Heyyy Ananya, welcome. I’m Mark.’

The pronunciation of her name was perfect, and she could tell Jude had something to do with it.

‘Hey Mark, how are you?’

‘All good. So good to finally meet the girl my son can’t stop raving about.’

‘Thanks Dad.’

Mark just play-pushed Jude away. And Ananya could see where Jude got his grin and easy-going attitude from.

‘So good to be here.’

Denise was watching them from the side. Their eyes met, and both women slowly walked towards each other, shaking hands.

‘Hey Ananya, good to see you.’

‘You too, Denise. What a lovely home.’

‘Thank you. Come have some dinner? We saved some casserole - Jude said you’re vegetarian.’

She was about to say yes out of courtesy when Jude intervened.

‘Mom she had some takeaway on the road coz it was getting late.’

‘I see.’

‘But the casserole sounds lovely, I’ll have it tomorrow.’

Ananya quickly chimed in.

‘Sure. You must be tired. Get some rest, see you in the morning.’

After some quick good-nights, Jude led her upstairs to his room, hand-in-hand. The staircase wall was filled with family photos over the years, many more than his place in Madrid. She glanced through all, feeling the warmth of the family home, getting a window into their closely-knit unit.

Jude’s room was no different, littered with photos & memorabilia, a wide contrast to his squeaky clean room in Madrid. That was a man’s room, this was a boy’s. This still had memories of his growing up years, and they seemed to want to keep it that way. Jude let her look around, breathe it in, while he put away her stuff in his closet.

A minute later, strong arms wrapped around her from behind, and his chin rested on her shoulder. 

‘Hey.’

‘Hey.’

‘Can’t believe you’re really here.’

‘Me neither.’

Both moved at the same time to lean in for a kiss. Jude lifted her, carrying her to the bed, as she settled into his lap in their trademark koala hug. Lips glued to each others’. His hand at the back of her neck guiding their pace.

After a long make-out, she slowly pushed at his chest, and he broke the kiss grudgingly. He had promised her to behave himself this weekend - Ananya’s condition of coming over was ‘no funny business’ and for him to keep his hands to himself. But she was so close & he couldn’t understand why he had to deny himself.

‘I’ll stop soon.’

She shook her head slowly.

‘You know you won’t.’

‘They won’t mind. They may not even notice.’

‘Jude, you promised.’

‘Fiiiiine.’

He plopped on the bed dramatically, as she stepped into the washroom to change, emerging in his jersey and her pyjamas. She snuggled next to him, and he pulled the blanket over them, holding her close.

‘I’m so proud of you. Last night was awesome.’

‘Thanks dove.’

‘All Madridistas are proud of you.’

He tapped on her lips lovingly.

‘But I care about this one the most.’

‘Such a charmer.’

He gave her a Jude grin in response, and they fell back to a comfortable silence, just soaking each other in.

‘Honey, I’m sorry about the game.’

She knew she had hurt him. She knew it was playing on his mind. His arms tightened around her in response, like she’d slip away any second if he weren’t careful.

‘Let’s not go there right now, yeah?’

‘Ok.’

It would have opened some existential doors that both weren’t ready to look behind at this point. She was here, that’s what mattered right now. Jude leaned it to kiss her again, enveloping her mouth in a deep, comforting kiss. Just then, there was a knock on the door.

‘Hey guys, can I come in?’

‘No. Go away.’

Ananya smacked Jude’s chest in admonishment, sitting up in bed and fixing her hair/attire quickly.

‘Come in Jobe.’

The younger Bellingham snuck his head in first, followed by the rest of him. He was already taller than Jude, and still growing (something he never failed to highlight). Ananya genuinely wanted to ask Denise what she had fed them as kids.

‘I come bearing gifts.’

Denise had sent over some sponge cake, mostly for her, since Jude couldn’t have this stuff. Her face lit up at the prospect of home-cooked cake, and she hungrily took it from Jobe, quickly stuffing her mouth with it.

The three sat on the bed, talking about random stuff for some time after. Jude couldn’t wait for his brother to piss off, and he wasn’t subtle about it AT ALL, despite glares from Ananya. When Jobe did leave in some time, Ananya threw him a dirty look.

‘That was not very nice.’

‘He’ll live.’

‘Jude.’

‘What? He’ll do the same in my position.’

‘I highly doubt it.’

‘Baby, he’s a lot like me. You just don’t see it yet, or don’t want to.’

Ananya didn’t want to ask what that meant. Maybe he was right, maybe she didn’t want to see it.

So she changed the subject.

‘How’s the shoulder now?’

‘Not killing me if thats what you’re asking.’

‘And the back?’

‘Very much killing me.’

‘Let me see.’

Jude laid face down onto the pillow, while she straddled him, keeping her knees on either side.

He often joked that she had turned into a half physio by now, and should start charging the club as a side-hustle. She had picked up on a few things, from trying to help ease his pain on some particularly harsh nights.

Slowly, she massaged down the spasming muscles, applying pressure at the right points. He moaned into the pillow, asking for more. She went again, and he moaned harder. So much that she had to ask him to be quieter.

‘My dick’s hurting too. Badly. Can you tend to it next?’

She smacked his butt in response. Which had the opposite effect coz he absolutely loved it & laughed into the pillow.

‘Stop being a pervert.’

Jude twisted his neck back to try catching her eyes.

‘How can I be a pervert with my own girlfriend?’

She twisted it right back, pushing him back into the pillow.

‘You can write a book on it.’

‘You’re hurting my feelings.’

‘You’ll live.’

Jude smiled at the way she used his own words against him, ever the wordsmith. His body relaxed under her soft, concerned hands, and he pulled her back down next to him after some time, drifting off to sleep soon after, burying his head in the crook of her neck, one arm & leg over her body, as her arms draped around his shoulders.

Ananya was wide awake for a while, taking in the room and all that would have happened here. When he would have first thought to start playing football, as a 6 yr old. When he would have stared at the ceiling, dreaming of playing professionally. When he would have gotten into Birmingham City and had the season that he did. When the young boy would have cried for having to leave his room, his house, his city, his club, his family, his country to play for Dortmund. That was all he would have wanted but it would have hit then how much he would have to leave behind. When he would have come here after making it at Dortmund. And finally, when the boy had turned into a man at Madrid. This room witnessed it all. If only the walls could talk, she’d sit & hear every single thing about the man she loved - his dreams, his fears, his secrets, his little jokes, his joys, his habits, his whole life. 

The thoughts led to a lump in her throat and a tingling in her eyes. Jude stirred in his sleep, moving his mouth on her neck, as if sensing her restlessness. She held him tighter, he did the same, and she didn’t realise when sleep took over.

Next morning, they slept in late, and no one disturbed them. The day was filed with fun family time.

First up was a barbecue in the backyard. She was touched to find they had gotten vegetables specifically for her. Mark & Jobe were on barbecue duty while Jude was helping Denise in the kitchen with salad & mashed potatoes. Ananya chose to side with the former team, having never seen this up close. And also because she was a little intimidated by Denise. This would have been the perfect organic window to break the ice, with Jude around, but she chickened out and picked the easier option. Mark showed her how to do the vegetables and she did the rest on her own, under his close supervision.

The family & her ate outside. Mark started talking about her work & plans, and he made it very easy for her to open up. At one point she even went into a monologue, speaking for a few mins straight, feeling embarrassed after. Jude & Mark started arguing about something random then, in a competition of who could yap more/louder, with Jobe joining in for some bits. Eventually, Denise put an end to the argument & the focus came back to the food. Which was frankly delicious. 

Next up were home videos & photo albums, something she had specifically requested Jobe for. Her mouth was in a constant ‘aww’ mode looking at Jude’s childhood clippings. She was sitting between the brothers on the couch, and they kept filling her in on the context. 

‘What happened to this cute boy?’

She was looking at his 3rd birthday album - big cheeks & puppy eyes tugging at her heart.

‘He got cuter.’

Jude giggled next to her, kissing her cheek, and she couldn’t even deny it factually. There were more clips of him with his little cousins, playing & laughing with them. He was a natural with kids, a downright magnet and hands down favourite.

For the first time, she wondered about having a little version of him running around the house. With Jude running right behind, pretending to lose the race. It did something to her. Something fluffy yet dangerous. She had to physically clutch her chest to keep her heart from hammering against it. Thankfully, they moved to watching a movie next. The first half was a blur, her thoughts still scattered, but the safety of being tucked under Jude’s arm brought her back out of her trance.

In the afternoon, the parents were busy with some calls. Jude wanted to take a nap with Ananya, while Jobe wanted to show her his new collection of thriller novels. She went with the latter, spending some time in Jobe’s room as they discussed their favourite thrillers. When she returned to Jude’s room an hour later, she found him playing a violent video game, filled with guns & explosions. She sat next to him, leaning into his side.

‘Didn’t sleep?’

‘Nuh.’

He kept his eyes firmly on the screen. And it took her precisely 3 seconds to understand he was sulking.

‘Will you teach me how to play this?’

‘Jobe plays this too. Maybe he can show you.’

‘But I want my boyfriend.’

Scrutinising eyes turned towards her, trying to find any hint of sarcasm or flippancy, but was met with sincerity. He softened, easing his stance, pulling her legs into his lap, and proceeded to yap for 20 mins about a game she had zero interest in. But she had always been a fast learner, and actually played two quick turns decently well. Jude beamed with pride, and the pair went to their nap after.

Dinner was brief. Everyone was still stuffed from the heavy lunch. And she had some work to finish. So Jude & her ate in the room - salad for Jude and yesterday’s casserole for her. They both crashed early that night, tired from the day’s activities.

Sunday morning came. She had to head out that evening, these were their last few hours together till next Sunday when he returned to Madrid. And Jude was particularly needy since waking up. He tried negotiating with all his might, to get her to budge on the ‘no sex rule’, calling it torture. Calling it unfair. An unjust punishment. He tried guilt-tripping, blackmailing, pleading but nothing worked. She stayed firm, and got out of his hold.

It was still early, around 7 am. The house was quiet. He followed her into the kitchen when she came down for some milk, wrapping his arms around her waist from behind, trying to kiss her neck.

‘JUDE.’

‘Let’s go to a hotel.’

‘What?’

‘For a few hours. There’s one nearby.’

He knew there was a private one nearby, because he had used it many times earlier. But obviously   omitted that out.

‘You’re out of your mind.’

His hands moved to her butt, cupping & squeezing with force, channelling his frustration. She tried swatting his hands away but was no match to his strength & resolve.

‘Not here.’

‘Yes here.’

‘Pls behave.’

‘Why?’

‘Decorum.’

Denise’s voice from behind made them jump apart in a split-second. Ananya wanted to kill herself. No, she wanted to kill Jude. And Jude knew that. So he stood a good few feet away, outside of her reach.

‘Morning Mom.’

‘Morning Jude.’

‘Was just helping her find…..sugar.’

Ananya cringed internally. It was extra sad because she knew he’d think he was being smart.

‘It’s on the counter.’

‘Right. So…..I’ll head back then.’

Jude retreated soon after, escaping the looks from both women he loved the most in this world. Then, Denise turned towards Ananya and the girl nearly dropped her cup.

She was dressed in Jude’s hoodie from yesterday, and was convinced the universe was trying to kill her with embarrassment. What would Denise think, especially after what she just saw? Should she give an explanation? Should she act like an idiot (like that boy earlier) & find a way to escape? This is not how she imagined her first proper solo conversation with Denise.

‘I..I’m sorry about..that.’

‘You shouldn’t be the one apologising for my son.’

Her tone was on point, but also kinda soft. Ananya just nodded in response, unsure of what else to say.

‘I’m making coffee. Want some?’

‘Yeah sure.’

She saw the graceful woman move around her kitchen meticulously.

‘Thought you’d be a tea person.’

Denise smiled. And Ananya breathed a bit more easy.

‘I was. But last 4 years in Europe changed me a fair bit I guess.’

‘Must have been hard - uprooting your life like that.‘

‘Yeah. But Mark & I kinda knew what it would take to get the boys here.’

‘And it still goes on.’

Denise’s smile was directed straight at her this time.

‘It still goes on. But they are happy, so I’m happy.’

Such a simple line, summarising years of sacrifice and putting her life away for her sons. But it was all worth it, she could see it from the quiet pride & joy in Denise’s eyes when she talked about her boys. What a great woman. A strong, smart, opinionated, loving woman. And such a great mum too!

They stepped into the backyard with their coffee, sitting side by side on the bench. Jude came down to check on the scene once, but saw them chatting away, so went back up quietly. Or so he thought, coz both women heard him & shook their heads.

‘So, 6 months huh?’

‘Yeah. Don’t know where time went.’

‘Happens when you’re in love.’

It was plain as day to Denise that they were in their head over heels phase right now. No question. 

‘I guess.’

‘It’s good to finally meet you.’

‘You too. And I’m sorry you had to find out that way…during Christmas.’

‘Again, not your fault.’

‘Were you surprised?’

‘That he was seeing someone? No. That he was in love? Yes. I’d never seen Jude so desperate like he was to get to you that day.’

‘I…I’m sorry for all the chaos and for…taking him away during Christmas.’

‘Dear, you need to stop apologising for everything. And for what it’s worth, I’m glad you gave him hell for that. I would too. All self-respecting women should, but most don’t, for various reasons, which saddens me. He needs to learn that actions have consequences.’

Ananya nodded absent-mindedly, still processing her words. The conversation moved to a few random things about life in Madrid. A few mins later, Denise looked at Ananya with purpose.

‘Can I ask you something?’

‘Of course.’

‘You don’t have to answer if you don’t want to, or if you don’t know how to.’

That put her on guard.

‘Okay.’

‘There’s something holding you back from Jude. Something gnawing at you. Am I right?’

Ananya had not seen that coming. Her eyes fell to her lap as she fidgeted with her hands. How did Denise catch that in a day? Literally no words came to her head. Zilch. 

Denise watched her closely. She knew she had hit the nail on its head. Her intuition had just been confirmed. There was something about Ananya’s look, the way she paused in the middle of conversations about the future, or when Mark said she’d join them for Christmas this year. Something flickered on her face, which she usually hid away quickly, but Denise had seen it.

‘Like I said, you don’t have to answer.’

She really shouldn’t. When she hadn’t even been able to properly articulate it to herself. Her boyfriend’s mom, who she was meeting for the first time, should be the last person she should confide in. But there was something about Denise’s demeanour right now which made Ananya want to bare her heart - something kind, motherly, like an older sister or best friend. A wise, comforting, knowing, trusted advisor.

Denise saw her struggle, and reached out to squeeze her hand gently. Ananya held it back, ready to cry at the gesture.

‘I won’t tell him.’

‘I know.’

After a few deep breaths, Ananya let the cat out of the bag.

‘I don’t know if I’m the right girl for him. If I can give him everything he wants in life.’

There was no point denying this anymore. The argument from the last match was playing in her head. It had far deeper connotations, something the couple was avoiding to discuss. Because it would open a pandora’s box of questions & predicaments.

When Jude had asked her to go public that night, her whole system revolved against the thought. Something Jude sensed, which had hurt him. Which made him ask that piercing question. And he was right - there was never going to be a perfect time. Not now. Not for the next two years when she’d be knee deep in her MBA, an ocean away from him. Post that, it would be the first few years of her career, she didn’t even know what would be the best location for it. Maybe US. Or London. Or back home in India - she could always go back to the Mumbai office, to be close to her family. 

And Jude was going to be in Madrid. Her MBA or work won’t allow her enough time to fly in. And long distance would not work for Jude - he simply didn’t have the patience or maturity for it. He needed the constant reassurance of company, physical touch, having someone by his side, someone whose arms he could fall into every night, someone whose world revolved around him, someone who relished his world & the spotlight that came with it, someone he could show off to the world, someone who could deal with all the media/fan frenzy that would always follow him. Without that, he won’t be satisfied, not fully, and at some point he’d look outside for that satisfaction, for companionship, for sex. 

Even in the last few months, she had felt parts of that irritation and dissatisfaction in him, while she was in the same city. A part of her hadn’t been able to forget the despair she felt when she saw Jude’s picture on Christmas, and another part of her felt something like that was inevitable. Like it would come anytime now, and she won’t be able to take it the second time. Heck, she might even blame herself more this time. 

Denise didn’t ask what that line meant. She had pieced parts of it together from everything she had heard about her from the boys, and her face was also telling its own story right now.

‘Have you spoken to him about this?’

‘In parts. On & off, when something or the other pops up. But not directly, no.’

‘Maybe you should.’

‘How? I don’t want to hurt him. I can’t. Really do love him.’

‘I know, dear.’

The heart-shaped locket Ananya was wearing was proof of it. Of their love. Denise had the same one & she recognised it immediately. Jude had only given it to two people in his life.

‘But telling him later would hurt him more.’

Ananya squeezed her eyes shut in pain, and Denise scooted closer to her on the bench, her hand still squeezing Ananya’s. 

‘Look, you don’t have to do anything immediately. But at some point, you need to address the elephant in the room. It would eat away at you both otherwise.’

Ananya could only nod in response, the lump in her throat not letting any words come out.

‘Till then, best to not rush into anything.’

‘W-what do you mean?’

‘You know, like, you guys are young and….I can see how you are with each other. Don’t let a weak, vulnerable moment have serious life consequences….for either of you.’

Was she just getting sex talk from her boyfriend’s mother? To not rush into a….marriage….or a child???

Denise could see the mix of embarrassment and shock on Ananya’s face. But it needed to be said. The closeness they had, anything could happen. They were like pieces which weren’t even from the same board but somehow interlocked perfectly. Like magnets. Something she couldn’t articulate but felt deep in her heart every time she saw them together.

Ananya wanted the ground to split and swallow her whole. Now was a good time to run away, coz she couldn’t believe what had just happened with her. And she did run away, after thanking Denise for her counsel.

She ran straight to Jude. He was in bed, half drowsy, but his face lit up when she walked in. He lifted the blanket, inviting her in and she rushed to settle in next to him, letting him hug her close, burying her face into his chest.

‘That was some chat, yeah?’

‘I think your mom just gave me the talk.’

She was still in shock. And Jude just laughed loudly in her ear.

‘What?’

‘Uh-huh.’

‘To not let me knock you up?’

‘Pretty sure that’s what she was hinting at.’

‘Unreal. And she spoke to you about this, not me?’

‘Maybe she thought I’d take her more seriously on this.’

‘Yeah, possible. But that’s funny. No wonder you look so red.’

Jude tilted his head to kiss her cheeks and she sighed at the comfort of it.

‘Dad gave me the same talk by the way.’

‘WHAT? When?’

‘Last night. I just laughed it off. But mom? Wow. Can they not see we are kids ourselves?’

‘You are.’

‘Ouch. But yeah, you are older I guess.’

She smacked his chest with force.

‘By 2 months. Shut up.’

‘It’s cool. I like older women.’

‘You are such a juvenile. And they thought I’d let you get me pregnant? Nonsense.’

Jude whispered slowly, playfully in her ear.

‘Not now. But one day, you will. One day, I’ll put babies in here.’

She froze. Her skin turned cold at those words. Alarming him.

‘Heyy heyy I was kidding. Pls don’t freak out.’

She sat up in bed, throwing the blanket away.

‘Ananya - look at me. C’mon. Forget what I said, was just messing with you.’

He rubbed her arms & back, but she scooted away, setting some distance between them on the bed. 

‘It’s too much. It’s too hard…Jude…’

‘Baby, what’s happening?’

‘Are you happy?’

‘What?’

‘Are you happy with me? Honestly?’

Jude stared at her incredulously, trying to figure where she was going with this. Did she really need to ask him? 

‘I love you.’

‘I love you too. But….’

‘I AM happy. Aren’t you?’

‘I am…for now…but…’

‘But what? What’s gotten into you all of a sudden?’

‘It’s not all of a sudden. You know what I’m talking about.’

Her voice was barely a whisper now, and it scared the living daylights out of him.

Yes, he knew. All those little unsaid things between them that seemed unsurmountable, he had felt them too. Both had tried to brush them under the carpet. But it was all bubbling over now in a cruel way.

But letting her pull away was not an option. He reached for her, grabbing her arms, pulling her close, despite her protests.

‘We can work it out.’

‘HOW? I may have to leave in a few months for my MBA. And I want to, I really do. It’s my dream, my family’s dream. It’s all I have been working for since I was a kid. It’s why I have studied so hard. Can’t give it up Jude, can’t do that to myself or my family.’

Funny thing was, a part of her did want to give it all up, just to stay with him. And that scared the shit out of her.

‘I know.’

A part of him wanted to keep her back in Madrid too, by his side, selfishly, but he was starting to see it wasn’t possible. And it wasn’t right. 

She slumped against him, speaking in whispers again, and he held her gently, like a delicate precious object.

‘Between you & my career - I don’t know how to do justice to both.’

Jude was trying hard to be strong for both of them. To not break down right now. But it was killing him from the inside. The thought of waking up knowing she wasn’t his anymore was so terrifying that he had compartmentalised this in his head, even though her going away had been on the horizon more & more.

‘And it’s not just that - we’re so different. I don’t know if I can really make you happy. If I can be….who you want me to be…I….’

Theirs was a clash of sensibilities, of moral compasses, of cultures, of core beliefs. 

‘Shhhhh baby, baby, you make me so happy you have no idea. Can never put it into words what you do to me. You make me a better person. I love you. I love you so much, dove.’

Tears came down her cheeks, breaking his heart into pieces, but he let her soak his jumper with it. 

‘Look at me. C’mon love, look at me.’

He cupped her cheeks, tilting her face up.

‘Here’s what we are going to do. No big decisions for now. Nothing that gets us like this. No need to go public or anything. Let’s just do what we are doing, what’s working for us.’

‘But that’s not what you want….you want to go public….you want more…’

‘Not at the cost of you. Not if I can’t come home to you anymore. Do you get that?’

She nodded slowly. 

‘One step at a time. Nothing too drastic. We have 4 months before you leave, yeah? Let’s just make the most of it. Move in with me, if that’s not too scary for you. Let’s just stick to each other. And when you do leave, we’ll find a way to make it work if we want it that much. I know we can.’

She wanted to believe him, so so badly. But life just didn’t work like that.

‘It’s not so easy. You’re saying that now but….when I’m not around…will you….Jude I can’t take another incident like that I just can’t. It’ll break me.’

‘I know. And can you see why it won’t happen? Because I know that would be the end of us. You will never forgive me again. It’s not easy. No one said it would be easy. But tell me this - would you not have moved heaven & earth to be with your ex, no matter the challenges, the differences, instead of giving it all up?’

‘Y-yes.’

‘So why not now?’

Because life had taught her it wasn’t a bed of roses. She knew that now. She wasn’t that naive girl from earlier.

‘Is it because you….loved him more…than me?’

The crack in his voice hurt her in ways she didn’t even know was possible. Ananya reached desperately for his face, cupping his cheeks, kissing him all over.

‘No babu. Don’t ever say that. It’s not true.’

‘Then let me love you. Let me show you I’m not the same person anymore. Destiny & fate & distance can fuck right off - if you’re with me, if you trust me then we’ll make it. Remember I told you not being with you is not an option? It’s true. I won’t know what to do with myself. You’re my whole heart, I’m obsessed with you, I need you. And I’ll keep loving you till you love me the same way.’

‘I do love you the same way.’

‘Then show me. Fight for us. Don’t ever think of pulling away. Don’t leave me, Ananya.’

‘Oh Jude.’

They reached for each other at the same time, lips crashing together. She didn’t know whether she pulled him on top or he pushed her down, but there he was, kissing her like his life depended on it, pressing her into the mattress. Both channeling their love & desperation into the frantic kiss. 

Ananya didn’t stop him when his hands reached under her clothes, pulling them off. She couldn’t. Because she needed to feel his love, his reassurance, just all of him. And Jude would have cried if she tried to take that away from him. Quite literally. 

‘Just….make me forget this baby….just wanna remember you.’

‘Gladly.’

He lived up to his promise. In all his kisses and caresses and praises, she was transported to a different world. Their world. Where nothing else mattered. Just him & her. And it was enough. It had to be enough. They’d will it to be enough. 

‘Say yes, Ananya.’

She didn’t know what he was asking for, or what all he was asking a yes for. But she wanted to give it to him. She wanted to give him everything. 

‘Yes.’

‘My sweet dove.’

‘My beautiful prince.’

‘I love you.’

‘I love you more.’

‘Not possible.’

It was too soon to think of growing old together, so they decided to grow up together. Taking on the world together and everything it threw at them. One step at a time. 

...................................................................

Well, there you go! 17k words. The end of Star Crossed Lovers.

I don't even know how to begin thanking you for all the love you have given to this series, and to Jude & Ananya. What your messages have meant to me.

Thank you for waiting patiently for 2 months for this final chapter. For constantly motivating me & sending me good vibes. You've been the best readers, so you deserved a long-ass chapter to conclude this roller-coaster journey.

I'll be taking a break from writing now. But it's been such a ride with you guys.

And ofcourse, as always, I am chomping at the bit to hear your thoughts on this chapter. This was truly a labour of love, and the last one, so pls do share your thoughts extensively with me. I can not wait to hear you guys 💜

Thanks again!

[hatsbuckets]

Sunday Softies: Cuddle Edition!

My take on how cod mw (reboot) blorbos cuddle

*sighs, because ofc this didn't post when it was scheduled to.* also sorry not sorry but this one has all my fav little ships in it. I may do other characters next week. or a diff mix idk whatever I want oop

Price: Warm and solid, the kind of presence that makes the world feel smaller, quieter. He doesn’t pull someone in so much as he opens up—makes space, shifts just enough to let them settle against him. There’s no hesitation in the way his arm comes around a waist, the way his fingers smooth over a shoulder, slow and steady. He holds like a man who has carried weight before and never minded doing it again. His breathing deepens when he sleeps, chest rising and falling in a way that almost lulls, a slow rhythm that reassures. And in the morning, even before his eyes open, his hand lingers—fingertips brushing against skin, against fabric, as if to make sure no one has gone anywhere.

Gaz: Soft and instinctive, like he was made to be close. He doesn’t just hold—he pulls, tucks someone into his chest, arms wrapped easy and loose but always there. He’s the type to shift in sleep, to press closer without realizing, to run warm enough that the blankets are always kicked halfway off the bed. His hands move, even in the quiet, fingers brushing against the back of a neck, stroking slow lines over a forearm, just feeling. He sleeps deep, steady, and when he wakes, there’s always a slow, lazy hum, a sigh that sounds like contentment.

Ghost: A still sleeper, but when he holds, he holds tight. Not crushing, not overwhelming, just firm—a presence that doesn’t waver, that doesn’t let go. He doesn’t tangle himself up in anyone, doesn’t smother, but there’s a way his arm locks around a waist, a way his fingers stay even when he’s drifting. If it’s a rare, quiet night, he sleeps on his back, someone tucked against his side, an absentminded hand resting against the small of their back. Even in sleep, there’s purpose in the way he holds on, a silent kind of knowing. And if he wakes up before them, he doesn’t move—not yet. Just stays there, fingers tracing slow, idle shapes against skin. A certain mohawked sergeant is the exception. Soap gets everything. A full-body, limbs-entwined kind of hold, strong and certain, like he needs to know he’s there. And when Soap laughs and tries to wiggle free, Ghost only tightens his grip, murmurs a sleep-heavy “Stay, Johnny” like it’s the easiest thing in the world.

Soap: A nester. Takes up space, spreads out, clings like it’s second nature. He’s all tangled limbs and absentminded shifts, burying his face into a shoulder, pressing against warmth like he’s charging up for the next day. If he starts as the big spoon, he always wakes up as the little one, pulled into whoever he’s with, grip slack but still there. His hands wander in sleep—not in any purposeful way, just in that mindless, familiar way, fingers splayed across ribs, an arm thrown over a stomach. He’s a soft weight, a solid, easy warmth, and once he’s got his spot, he’s not moving. Ghost is the only one who lets him get away with it. Let’s him burrow against his chest, let’s him tangle their legs together, let’s him press his freezing cold feet against his calves and only sighs about it. And in the morning, when Soap’s trying to sneak away? Ghost hooks an arm around his waist and pulls him back.

Farah: Light at first, distant in a way that’s habit, but there’s a slow softening when she lets herself relax. She doesn’t wrap herself around anyone, doesn’t cling, but she leans in—rests her forehead against a shoulder, tucks her fingers lightly beneath a sleeve, something gentle. When she sleeps, her grip is light, but her presence doesn’t fade. She’s there, quiet and steady, the kind of warmth that lingers even when morning comes. And when it’s Alex? Her fingers trace over his arm, absent and slow, mapping old scars with a touch so careful it’s almost reverent. He doesn’t say anything—just lets her. Just presses closer and smiles against her temple, quiet and warm and hers.

Alex: Loose, easy, like he was meant to do this. Never in a rush, never greedy, just comfortable. He sleeps on his back, an arm slung over someone’s shoulders, fingers trailing slow, lazy patterns against their skin until he drifts off. His breathing is deep, slow and even, the kind of thing that’s easy to match, easy to fall asleep to. He’s got weight to him, but it’s the good kind, the kind that makes everything feel safer. With Farah, he’s different. Softer still. Likes it when she tucks herself into his side, lets himself drift off with his nose buried in her hair, murmuring something inaudible against her skin. If she ever pulls away in sleep, his hand finds her again—thumb sweeping slow across her knuckles, something small.

Laswell: Intentional, never careless, never absent. She’s not one for tangled limbs, not the type to crush or smother, but there’s a firmness to her embrace, a weight in the way she stays. She sleeps still, rarely shifting, rarely moving, just there, just constant. The only real sign of softness is in the way her fingers curl, lightly brushing against a wrist, against fabric, like a silent reminder.

Her wife is the opposite—moves too much, tangles their legs together, shifts and sighs and clings in sleep. Kate never minds. Just hums, tugs her closer without waking fully, and settles again.

Alejandro: All warmth and certainty. He doesn’t just hold—he envelops, wraps arms around a waist, presses close enough that there’s not an inch of space between him and whoever’s lucky enough to be there. His grip is strong, not tight but assured, like he knows exactly what he has and doesn’t plan on letting go. He’s big, broad, but somehow never overbearing—just solid, just safe. He sleeps deep, heavy, and doesn’t stir unless someone does. Then? His fingers flex, grip adjusting, pressing closer like an instinct. And if it’s Rudy shifting beside him, he just huffs a sleepy laugh, hooks an arm around him, and murmurs, "Quédate aquí, cariño,"—stay here, love—voice low, thick with sleep. Rudy doesn’t argue. Never does.

Rudy: Soft in a way that’s not obvious at first. He holds in quiet ways, never forceful, never imposing, just there. The kind of warmth that sneaks up on you, the kind of steadiness that feels like something unshakable. He prefers holding, rather than being held—arms wrapped slow and sure, a hand smoothing over a back, breath steady against hair. He doesn’t move much in sleep, but his grip lingers, fingertips brushing against skin in a way that feels unconscious. And in the morning, when Alejandro tries to untangle himself, Rudy only hums—just a quiet, knowing sound—and tightens his grip right back.

Nikolai: Heavy, weighty, the kind of presence that settles around someone like a thick, warm coat. He’s not restless, not clingy, but he makes it clear that once he’s in a comfortable position, he’s not moving. If someone shifts, he makes a small noise in the back of his throat, barely awake, grip adjusting, resettling against them. A slow inhale, a deep exhale, and then stillness. With the captain, it’s different. He stays awake longer, shifts just slightly to make sure Price is comfortable, presses a slow, deliberate kiss to the back of his shoulder before letting himself relax. And in the morning, before either of them need to be awake, Price reaches back without opening his eyes, fingers curling around Nikolai’s wrist.

Graves: (Claims he's not a cuddler. Liar.) Holds like he doesn’t realize he’s doing it. An arm slung over a waist, a hand resting just light enough not to be overbearing. He’s not dramatic about it, doesn’t pull or take, just rests against warmth and lets it happen. Likes to lie on top, face buried in a chest, held and holding. And in sleep? He locks down. His fingers curl tighter, his grip firms, something instinctual, something deep.

Roach: Tucks himself in naturally, curls against warmth with a kind of easy comfort. Light but present, the kind of sleeper that doesn’t smother but doesn’t let go either. He breathes slow and even, lets the weight of another person press against him without shifting away. If his fingers twitch in sleep, if they flex against fabric, it’s not conscious—it’s just the way his body remembers touch.

Valeria: Possessive, but not clingy. She doesn’t grab, doesn’t cling—she just presses close and expects someone to stay. One hand resting firm on a stomach, the other tucked beneath her head, fingers occasionally shifting like she’s checking. If she moves in sleep, she adjusts, keeps hold without gripping too tightly. And if someone pulls away, she notices.

Makarov: Still. A grip that doesn’t waver, doesn’t shift, fingers curled against fabric with a kind of eerie steadiness. There’s no desperation in it, no need—just something deliberate, something intentional. He doesn’t move much in sleep, doesn’t tangle, but his grip? It never really loosens.

[yoonmoonn]

the secret he keeps │myg

02 │the secret he keeps

warnings: none (just yoongi being an asshole 🫢)

At first, you don’t see it.

Because in private, Yoongi is perfect.

He’s the type of boyfriend who pulls you into his chest when you're tired, arms wrapped around you like a shield from the world. The kind who memorizes your coffee order and shows up outside your class with it, acting like it’s no big deal. The kind who listens when you rant about a difficult art professor, his thumb rubbing slow circles over your knuckles as he murmurs, “Want me to handle it?” in that lazy, half-teasing way of his.

In his dorm, in your dorm, in the small, quiet corners where it’s just you two—he loves you.

And you know he loves you.

It’s in the way he tugs you closer when you're curled up in his lap, his chin resting on your shoulder. The way he lets you steal his hoodies, even when he complains about having “nothing left to wear.” The way he texts you 'good morning, sleepyhead' before he even brushes his teeth.

When he kisses you, he means it.

When he says he loves you, it feels undeniable.

But in public?

In public, it’s like you don’t exist.

You’re walking to class together, side by side. The late afternoon sun casts golden streaks through the campus trees, the air warm with the last traces of summer.

Your hands swing at your sides. Close, but not touching.

You hesitate, then reach out. Just a small thing—your fingers brushing against his, an unspoken invitation.

Yoongi pulls away.

The motion is so quick—so effortless—that you almost don’t register it. Like he didn’t even think about it. Like pulling away from you is automatic.

Your stomach tightens.

He doesn’t look at you, just keeps walking, shoving his hands into his hoodie pockets.

You don’t say anything.

And maybe that’s your first mistake.

It happens at a party.

You’re standing with him in the kitchen, a red Solo cup in your hand, laughter spilling from the living room where Jimin is attempting to dance on the coffee table. Yoongi stands beside you, his fingers grazing the small of your back, his touch so familiar, so natural that it melts something inside you.

But then Jungkook walks in.

And just like that, Yoongi steps away.

It’s subtle, but you feel it—the way the warmth of his touch vanishes, the way he suddenly puts an inch, then two, then three, between you.

Jungkook’s gaze flicks between you both. “Yoongi, you playing beer pong or what?”

Yoongi rubs the back of his neck. “Yeah. Be there in a sec.”

Jungkook looks at you. “You coming too?”

And before you can even answer—before you can even think, Yoongi says, “She’s probably got better things to do.”

Your heart stops.

Jungkook laughs, completely unaware of the way your stomach drops. “Damn, that was cold.”

Yoongi doesn’t even look at you.

You force a smile, but your fingers tighten around your cup.

And for the first time, you wonder if you’re imagining it. If you're crazy for thinking something’s wrong.

But deep down, you already know.

You’re lying in his bed, his arm draped over your waist, his breath warm against the back of your neck.

“Yoongi,” you murmur, tracing absentminded circles on his forearm. “Why don’t you ever post me?”

He stiffens.

It’s quick—a second, maybe less—but you feel it.

Then he exhales, his grip on you tightening slightly. “What do you mean?”

You swallow. “Like… I don’t need a big declaration or anything. But you post the guys all the time. Jungkook’s dumb gym selfies. Taehyung’s stupid cat pictures. But not me.”

Silence.

Then, “You don’t post me either.”

“That’s not true,” you say softly. “I posted your stupid Crocs last week.”

He huffs a quiet laugh against your shoulder. “That doesn’t count.”

“It does.” You shift, turning in his arms so you can see his face. His eyes are half-lidded, unreadable. “Why won’t you?”

Yoongi looks at you for a long time.

Then he kisses your forehead. “I don’t need to prove anything to anyone,” he murmurs. “You know how I feel about you.”

And the thing is?

You do.

So you let it go.

It’s a normal day.

You’re sitting outside the art building, sketchbook balanced on your lap. The sun is warm, the campus buzzing with life. Across the quad, Yoongi is laughing with his teammates, his bag slung over his shoulder.

He hasn’t seen you yet.

And you watch.

Watch the way he fits there—so effortless, so easy. Watch the way he claps Jungkook on the back, nudges Taehyung’s shoulder.

Watch the way he moves like he belongs.

And suddenly—it hits you.

This world—this part of his life—doesn’t include you.

Not in the way it should.

Not in the way he lets you include him in yours.

Something inside you fractures.

And before you can think—before you can stop yourself—you stand up. Walk across the quad. Straight to him.

The moment he sees you, his smile falters.

Not completely. But enough.

“Hey,” you say, forcing a small smile. “Can I talk to you for a second?”

His teammates glance between you both, but you don’t care.

Yoongi rubs the back of his neck. “Uh. Can it wait?”

Your heart drops.

Jungkook frowns. “Wait, why—”

But Yoongi doesn’t let him finish.

“I’ll find you later, okay?” His voice is quiet, just for you.

Like he’s asking you to understand.

Like he’s asking you to wait.

But this time?

You won’t.

Your breath catches. “Yoongi.”

Something sharp flashes across his face—panic, frustration, something you can’t quite name. “Not now, ___. Please.”

And that’s when you know.

He won’t hold your hand in public.

He won’t post you.

He won’t stand beside you when people are watching.

Because he doesn’t want to be seen with you.

Your stomach twists.

And then, for the first time—you stop ignoring it.

You swallow hard, eyes burning.

Then you step back.

Yoongi’s expression shifts. “Wait—”

But you just shake your head. “Forget it.”

And this time, when you walk away—

You don’t look back.

And neither does he follow you.

please don't claim or copy any of my work !!

[cagenewman]

Intimacy between them had always come so easily, felt natural. From the first time until the last time, he had always felt at ease with her, had never hesitated to show her what he liked, to let her guide him through what she wanted in return. The last thing that Cage wanted was for that to be altered in any way, for either of them to feel like sex was something that they needed to think about only in terms of numbers and figures and dates on a calendar. "I don't want to have sex with you because we have to meet a deadline or … well, because we have to, period, I want to have sex with you because I love you," and that was the bottom line. Cage's gaze dropped from her face to her body, dragging low for a moment before he flicked his gaze back up to her face and let out a half laugh, because he had liked it, too. More than he had wanted to let on; it wasn't that he was restrained with her, it wasn't that he held back, she wouldn't want him to, but it had been something tense and something passionate, and he knew that they had both enjoyed themselves, but it didn't mean that he wanted to think of their child being created in a fit of anger, in a moment of uncertainty, even if it wouldn't have changed the love that he held for them. "We can have hot, rough sex any time you want, just … maybe without the broken lamp and knife play." That last part was a joke -- even if he had used the knife to take her dress off. He didn't have to be angry with her to give her what she wanted. "Logically, I know that. It's something that happens, but in the moment, finding that out, it's all I could think about, you know? That I did this, I put too much stress on you, on the situation, that's why I want to make sure when we do this, when we try, we don't stress out about it." Trying for a baby should be fun -- of course there were going to be moments of disappointment and worry, that was a part of life, too, but he wanted to enjoy the process, wanted to look back on this time in their life with fondness and warmth. "I think I was less upset with the fact that you were pregnant and more upset with the fact that I wasn't there for you," he admitted quietly, shrugging one shoulder, "and it just…" he lifted his free hand and snapped, "I knew I had to be, for you and our baby." And once that feeling had settled into his chest, it hadn't gone away, not when he made her those muffins, not when he started thinking about changing their office into a nursery, and not when they were told that there wouldn't be a baby. Everything had changed the day that she had put that test on his desk, and it had only solidified when it changed again in that doctor's office. "Alright," he laughed, nodding his head, "I'll do the heavy labor, you gals write up the score cards. She's an incredibly harsh critic, black cats have the most ridiculous attitude, you know that?" But he wouldn't have changed her for anything.

Swaying with the shove, Cage let out a louder, more jovial laugh, swinging back around to wrap his arm around her, pulling her into his side. "Doesn't matter, I'll be there," he said with certainty, nodding his head. Whether she was going to be sick every morning, or spend her days longing for the sweetest, most sugary foods that she could get her hands on, Cage would get her anything that she needed. Do whatever she wanted. There was a certain level of excitement to his voice as he looked down at her again. "You'll have a bump," which, duh, of course she would. But for some reason, it just hit him that she wouldn't be his ex-girlfriend that he ducked down the grocery aisle to avoid when he saw her pregnant years ago in their small town. It wouldn't just be a photograph in an album, something she pointed out to him on lazy, rainy afternoons. But Cordelia would have a bump, a belly, she would be growing their son or daughter in there as she baked brownies for Cienna's class, or helped Rosalyn pick flowers from the garden. But he couldn't think about that, couldn't let himself get that distracted -- the boys. They had to talk to the boys first, that was where he put his thoughts. "Shawn had Cienna, and Colton's been amazing with Archie, whenever he's around him," he pointed out with a nod. Sure, he might have teased Lucie about dirty diapers and messy burps whenever he spent time with his cousin, but he still was so gentle and careful with him as a newborn that Cage didn't worry about that. "It'll be… a lot to take on, adding a baby to a family with four kids, but I think we can do it. I just -- I need you to remind me sometimes that I can do it. I don't doubt that you can do it," he let out a soft laugh, "but unless you want my whole head to go gray…" he wasn't quite ready for that experience just yet. But they didn't need to worry about how much money a baby was going to cost when they were shopping. Ironically. That would come later. Until then, jewelry. "Mhm," he agreed with a nod, temporarily distracted by the smell of her hair as it brushed against his nose, pressing a kiss to the top of her head and then looking at the pieces in the case. Raising a brow as Cordelia said that she wanted something pre-1940s, Cage was impressed, though he kept that to himself as he watched the exchange, talking when prompted, mostly letting his wife and the attendant speak as he stepped to the side to examine a few pieces himself. Each ring that Cordelia tried on, he had some sort of comment for, a thumbs up or a thumbs down, interested, but wanting it to be her decision until he saw the look on her face, the way that she picked up her hand just enough to catch the light, turning it so that the diamonds shone. He didn't need to ask Cordelia if she wanted it, didn't bother to put it to a question as he reached into his back pocket to pull out his wallet, holding the card out with a low laugh. Cage knew his wife by now, far too well. "She'll take it."

There was almost a relief in Cage's eyes when she said she wasn't going to make this into some kind of thing they planned every single bit of. Maybe if they hadn't conceived in six months to a year they would consider talking to a fertility doctor and tracking at least ovulation but there was no need to go that way until they had to. They had the knowledge to know that Cordelia could get pregnant, it was just more about being the right time and hoping that it actually stuck around. Everything he said made sense, "No I get it, I don't want sex to become a business transaction, something we're strictly doing to get me pregnant. Kind of takes the fun out of it and I don't think we need to do that when we have a pretty great sex life as it is." Which was true, why ruin a good thing? Giving a roll of her eyes, "I didn't mind the bruises on my thighs and hips, I liked it." Looking at him a grin tugging at her lips, "I mean it, I enjoyed it, more than I wanted to admit because I was angry, but angry sex, kinda hot. Maybe a lot hot." she pointed out, because it kind of was, "And it's not some sadistic karma that caused all of this, it was the fact that my body wasn't ready to be pregnant. Maybe stress played a factor into it but no one knows the exact reasons, it wasn't like I fell, it wasn't like I got hurt or did anything crazy it just wasn't the right time. There's nothing wrong with how our first would have been conceived but I get wishing you had been more excited and I won't pretend that I wished you had been happier but I also understand that you weren't there yet." It was hard that for him to realize what he wanted he had to lose that very thing and then have to live with it as much as she did, only experience a different type of guilt feeling. Though neither one of them were guilty of anything. They had done their best with what they had been given, and now moving forward all they could do was try and hope for the best and that it wouldn't become a stressor to them personally or their marriage. Honestly, Cordelia was just happy that Cage was opening up about how he was feeling and everything that had been on his mind. Maybe getting away from Merrock for their anniversary had been the best thing, a place to openly talk away from everything, memories and just get it all out on the table and now look where they were? Communication was at least far better right now, not that she didn't expect there to be hiccups at times. "I can promise you that you will not catch me attempting to pick up hay bales prior to getting pregnant either." After losing the pregnancy so early she wasn't going to risk doing anything too crazy in case she got pregnant, and like what happened didn't know and cause any potential issues, but she also knew she'd go about a lot of her normal every day life like she had before. "Think that sounds fair, Twix and I will give you scores on how good you are at moving the bales, I'll get her her own little score board too." she offered a grin pulling to her lips, "But remember she may love you but she's a harsh critic."

Reaching out she shoved him gently, "Oh shut up, I could have cravings without being pregnant." Which was very true, Cordelia loved food and there was always a chance something could pop up in her mind that she would want, and it didn't mean she was pregnant. "Just buckle in, that's all I'm saying, because who knows I could have wicked cravings, or I could be horribly sick and threaten you to keep all food far, far away from me." Might sound a lot like her saying keep it out of the house and dramatics being her favorite form of emotions she might come up with some kind of crazy thought of get rid of it all, but she wouldn't actually mean it. They had four kids to keep fed, two of which were growing teenage boys that she was convinced were actually trying to eat them out of house and home. "No I agree, I was worried about telling them." When she had been expecting, the way her gut would drop remembering they had to break the news in a way that was kind of like, well here this is, without even having a conversation that they had or hadn't been considering this. Talk about the worst proof of non-safe sex to say it just happened to two teenage boys. "Know that that is where we're at that we can give this new little one, when he or she is ready to you know.... happen, the love and time they deserve. Deep down I think Colton and Shawn would love to have a baby sibling, I know Colton got to be around Rosalyn once she was almost a year old but think he would have enjoyed her as a baby baby, and like you said, Shawn loved having Cienna." she pointed out, maybe it wouldn't go so bad if they pointed out the fact that it was because of the four of them and how much love they proved in their family that gave them the ability to know one last child would be given that same amount of love, respect, and care needed. As she saddled up towards the few cases of jewelry it didn't take long to feel Cage behind, press up against her slightly, hands on her hips. "You know I've always loved the idea of a vintage piece, something that had history even if we don't know the history." Of course her ring was technically going to eventually fall into that category given it had been his mother's diamond. A woman approached them with a soft 'hello' and how could she help them. "Oh we're just looking, we're here on vacation for our anniversary and I kind of wanted to take a peek at a few things special maybe." The woman was kind and generous, asking them how long they had been married, them taking turns to explain the finer parts of their relationship from high school to reuniting, maybe leaving out their difficultly at first reconnecting and the whole soup debacle. "I was hoping to look at some bands maybe? For my left hand. Something antique, maybe pre-1940's if you have anything?" The woman nodding happily before returning with two trays of rings. "Oh!" Cordelia's eyes sparkling seeing all the pretty rings in front of her, definitely obvious that they were dated given the looks of some of them. Trying on a bunch the woman took the time again to explain each ring, the period it was from, Cordelia holding her hand up for Cage to see, knowing he was mostly there to oh and ah, before she picked up a particular ring, this one slipping onto her finger with ease. The woman explained it was from the 1920's, with miners cute diamonds, 7 to be exactly, and Cordelia knew it, the second it fit on her finger and held it up, the seven stones sparkling in the light, she had fallen in love.

[professorfcknmoriarty]

Really really enjoyed the pronouns you chose to use at particular times in the K/Weugan fic. Very good trans feelings about that:)

asdfghjkl you should know that for like a month I've been having a deeply internal self-assessment over why I've been predominantly writing my K with they/them pronouns; and the conclusion I've reached is that "it's easier to write that way" is absolutely not valid enough to justify doing it. and this ask confirmed that I need to do better. so, going forward, I intend to write all my K stuff with fluctuating they/she/he pronoun usage

[foldingfittedsheets]

There was this park near where I grew up. I remember we’d just moved to the area so I was around six and we drove past and saw this waterfront area. My parents decided to check it out so we went for a walk. It was a lovely park, there’s a lazy slough, lots of trees, extremely picturesque. My parents ambled along the trail enjoying the nature while my siblings and I ranged around in their orbit like excitable moons.

Then I saw something odd. Something vibrantly alive down by the water that was entirely the wrong color. I called back my vital scouting info and my family gathered around me. We looked down the steep verge toward the slough, screened by underbrush. We couldn’t quite make out what it was. The only thing we could agree was that it certainly wasn’t a duck. However it was about duck sized and roughly duck shaped. It just wasn’t a duck.

This led to some heated debate amongst my siblings and I but we were forbidden to scramble down the muddy hill to harass the mystery animal. Reluctantly we continued down the trail, speculating wildly when a chicken popped out of a bush in front of us with a train of several chicks.

We froze. The chicken did not. She placidly herded her little puffs across the trail, pecking happily for seeds, unbothered by our proximity. My family had not yet delved into farming and this was the first time any of us kids had seen a chicken up close. It was like a fairytale thing, a creature we had seen over and over in books was suddenly here in the wilderness of the park. We all realized the mystery creature had likewise been a chicken.

Another couple came up the trail and saw us staring.

“Is this your first time at the park?” They asked?

We nodded.

They informed us that this park had become a dumping ground for unwanted chickens. Once the chickens were dumped they were park property and the locals didn’t mind the eccentric additions at all. No one looked after the chickens, but they got on surprisingly well.

As the years went by we visited the park regularly. Signs were added to warn people not to dump off chickens or they’d be fined. They were also excluded from snatching the existing chickens. The hope was that the chickens would eventually run their course and the park would go back to normal.

It did not.

Instead the menagerie grew. Peacocks cropped up occasionally, turkeys; and one visit we saw guinea fowl. But there were always chickens. Eventually feed dispenser were installed so park goers could pay a quarter to enjoy the motley flocks.

Because we’d moved into a house with land my mom started up a chicken coop and we got our very own chickens at the feed store like proper folks. The first rooster we had was a gentleman, politely clucking at us when came into the coop, but the second proved troublesome a year later. He either adored or hated me. Every time I entered the coop he’d dance and flounce and brandish his spurs.

My mom didn’t want to off him frankly she didn’t know how at that point but his fascination ended with him flying at me and the rooster was sentenced to banishment.

We drove to the park.

We saw him there for years afterward, clucking dutifully around a small flock of hens. He did pretty well in exile.

Anyone who’s kept chickens knows that eventually there’s always a tragedy. Ours happened when a neighbors dog broke into our coop and slaughtered the flock. I was absolutely distraught, my lovingly hand reared chicks all decimated in a flurry of senseless bloodlust. I have not loved a chicken since. They are too fragile to bear it.

After a few days of mourning my mom offered that she knew where to find some more chickens. To make up for the massacre she planned a night raid with us. We stayed up past our bedtime and drove to the park with tarp covered kennels in the back of the truck.

We crept down along the gravel parking lot, looking up into the trees, spotting the telltale lumps of shadows that meant chickens. We quickly developed a strategy. We picked a chicken branch, creeping close underneath. Then we reached the end of the branch and gave it a good shake until the roosting chicken glided down to the ground in confusion. It was easy to scoop them up and we went home the proud new owner of a handsome flock of chickens.

The Take a Chicken Leave a Chicken park is still a beloved feature of its neighborhood to this day.

[littlelamy]

sleeping with rafe

Rafe couldn’t sleep without you. Whether it was his bed, your bed, or even the couch, he needed you beside him, wrapped up tight, grounding him in a way only you could. Tonight was no different. The moment you slipped under the covers, he pulled you into his arms, sighing deeply as he buried his face against your chest. After a long, exhausting day, all he wanted was to be tangled up with you.

Usually, he preferred to be the big spoon, wrapping you up in his embrace like a protective barrier against the world. But tonight, he craved your warmth more than ever. He nestled his way down, resting his head on your chest, sighing contentedly as he felt your soft skin under his cheek, the rhythm of your heartbeat lulling him. His hand drifted beneath your shirt, fingers gliding over your bare skin, sending tingles through you.

“Missed you,” he murmured, pressing soft kisses against the delicate skin just above your heart. His lips traveled slowly across your chest, savoring each inch, each gentle curve. When he finally reached your nipple, he paused, eyes fluttering shut as he closed his lips around it, sucking softly, his tongue flicking teasingly against the sensitive skin. (rafe having an oral fixation > )

A shiver ran through you, and your breath hitched as you tangled your fingers in his hair, feeling the heat pool low in your stomach. Rafe smiled against you, clearly enjoying your reactions as he took his time, lost in the warmth of you. Each slow pull of his mouth was both possessive and adoring, a perfect blend that made you feel cherished.

“God, you’re so soft… so perfect,” he whispered, pulling back for a moment to watch your face, relishing the flush on your cheeks. He pressed his cheek against your chest again, listening to your heartbeat, tracing gentle patterns across your waist with his fingers.

But as the moments stretched on, you felt that familiar pressure building in your bladder, and you knew you’d have to get up. You tried to shift out of his hold, but Rafe wasn’t having it. Even as you tried to ease your way out from beneath him, his grip tightened, instinctively, possessively and with a sleepy groan.

“Where are you going?” he mumbled, voice thick with sleep, his arms looping around you like a vice.

“I… I have to get up,” you whispered, trying not to disturb him too much. He just groaned, shaking his head as he snuggled even closer, tightening his hold like he thought you might just disappear if he let go.

“Just a few more minutes,” he murmured, pressing a sleepy kiss to your collarbone, his face still buried against your chest. “Stay.”

You chuckled softly, heart warming at how attached he was, even if it meant you were stuck for the time being. But eventually, nature’s call grew too insistent, and you had to put your foot down.

“Rafe, I really have to go,” you said, a bit more firmly this time. His eyes fluttered open, and he looked up at you, pouting slightly, as if to say how could you leave me like this?

With a defeated sigh, he finally relented, loosening his grip just enough to let you slip out of bed. But as you padded to the bathroom, you felt his presence right behind you, half-awake yet determined to stay close. You glanced over your shoulder to find him trailing you, eyes half-lidded and hair tousled, his expression one of pure sleep-addled stubbornness.

He leaned against the doorframe as you entered the bathroom, his gaze unwavering even as you went about your business. You shot him a look, but he only grinned, sliding down to sit by the door, resting his head against the wall with a lazy smile, as if this was perfectly normal behavior.

When you finally returned to bed, he wasted no time in gathering you back into his arms, settling back into his preferred spot on your chest, his fingers tracing lazy patterns on your skin as he sighed in satisfaction.

“You’re not allowed to leave me again,” he muttered, voice muffled against you.

You chuckled, running a hand through his hair. “Alright, alright. I’m not going anywhere.”

And with that promise, he relaxed completely, his breathing evening out as he drifted back to sleep, held securely in the warmth of your embrace.

taglist: @namelesslosers @princessslutt @averyoceanblvd @iknowdatsrightbih @starkeysprincess @sixrosberg @anamiad00msday @ivysprophecy @wearemadeofstardust0 @kissrotten @rafecameroninterlude @sstargirln

[zyafics]

CAN YOU PLEASE, PLEASE ON MY KNEES WRITE ABOUT BITCHY!READER X RAFE AND IT'S SMUT?? I FEEL LIKE YOU'LL DO IT JUSTICE!!! thank you

you literally read my mind because i was just thinking of this prompt that works so well with bitchy!reader!! hope you'll enjoy <3 (if it’s bad, look away!!)

WHATEVER SHE WANTS | Rafe Cameron

MASTERLIST (Oneshot)

Pairing — Rafe x Bitchy!Kook!Female Reader

Content — 18+, power/dominance play, p in v, doggy style, orgasm denial, and dirty talks

Word Count — 2.2K

lıllılı Whatever She Wants by Bryson Tiller

You always wanted Rafe.

It's your right. Since you were a child, you demanded the best in everything—toys, clothes, boyfriends. They had to be perfect. Had to be yours. And yes, it may come off a little superficial but who cares? It's what you deserve, and it'll be hell if you don't get it.

Since the first look, when you caught Rafe lounging on a chair with his friends, tipping the rim of his beer onto his lips, while his eyes scanned over the room in an attractive lazy way, you knew you had to have him. It didn't help that you were competitive, and Rafe garnered attention with women. They flocked to him and begged for a minute of his time. It became a game to you, and that heightened your need.

Everything was calculated. The makeup you wore, the outfits you curated, the glances. You always timed your arrivals—when you knew Rafe would be watching the door—and marked your exits. You knew exactly what to wear—dresses that tantalizing exposes your ass, but only as a preview—and the cosmetic style he liked. Rafe's the type of man who believes he wants a bare-faced woman, but truly, he wants something natural that enhances your features.

You came with friends. You left alone. You drank enough to loosen your nerves and danced with the crowd, but not enough to make a fool of yourself. You knew your tolerance and knew Rafe didn't like a messy girl.

At least, in public.

You caught his gaze a couple of times, flashing a flirtatious smile over your shoulders, but never lingered longer than three seconds. Rafe can't know how easy he can have you, because Rafe, like most boys, loves a chase. You're not easy, you're spoiled. He had to come to you.

And he did.

Rafe tried to introduce himself on several occasions. On those nights when you're leaving early—as planned—Rafe would cut to the door to pay a parting remark. "You're leaving so soon?" he would ask, "Alone? Again?" He would add. You always told him it was because no one caught your eye, and Rafe took that as a personal challenge. He would then try to tell you his name, as if he were different, to which you nod—detached—as if it didn't matter.

It drove him insane.

Because you didn't offer the same courtesy. You kept him guessing. He had to finally ask around to learn your name, which he would use to tease you the next time he saw you. And he did. And you laughed. But you acted like you didn't care. Like all the trouble he went through didn't prove a thing. That's when Rafe knew he needed you.

Tonight's no different. Just as you're about to leave, Rafe catches you with another smooth pick-up line. You just giggle. He studies how your eyes crinkle with amusement, the curve of your lips painted in his favorite shade of lipstick, and the lithe tilt of your head to the side as you ask him with your gaze, is that the best you got?

It isn't. But Rafe's determined to get further with you tonight. He continues to talk, asking about which men disappointed you and the reasons for your constant disappearances from these parties. And, for once, you're answering his questions with little resistance. Perhaps, it's because of the amount of cheap wines you consumed, or maybe you—for once—are tired of the games and want it to come to a fruitful end. Because when Rafe finally asks to take you home, you don't say no.

The walk to his truck is brisk. His arm wrapped around your waist, directing your path, while his fingers trail over the backless cut of your dress, producing a buzzing feeling beneath your skin. He's whispering something in your ear, but all of it is incomprehensible as you revel in the feeling of his touch and his touch alone. The feeling of your game coming to a conclusion.

And, just as you're about to reach the car, Rafe slams you into the side of the vehicle with a searing kiss.

His mouth catches yours and everything feels perfect. As if the buildup leading to this precise moment had been worth it, and every needy emotion rises to the top. His hand travels down the length of your body, to your hips, pulling you closer, and needing to eliminate all the space and wait you made him do.

Rafe's movements are swift and controlled. One of his hands props open the backdoor of his car, pushing you inside, and laying you against his leather seats. All without breaking the kiss.

"You don't know how long I wanted this, wanted you," Rafe blubbers between wet kisses. "Seeing you at every party, in these tiny dresses, not being able to touch," he rasps, bundling the hem of your dress into a tight fist. "Tell me you wear them for me."

"And if I did?" You say with a moan, tipping your head back to grant him access to your neck. "Did you like them?"

"Of course I did," he murmurs against the curve of your neck, the vibration of his words sending heat straight to your core. "You dressing up for me like my own perfect doll."

You want to retort that it's him who's in the palm of your hand, but Rafe sucks on a sensitive spot, causing your eyes to roll back and a whimper to escape your lips instead. He grabs your wrists with one hand, throwing them over his shoulder as he pulls you flush against his chest.

"So pretty, so fucking untouchable," Rafe kisses down the length of your throat, his fingers collecting the spaghetti straps of your dress before sliding it down the slope of your shoulders. "I'm going to fuck you so good."

His words snap you out of your haze. And while Rafe continues to expose more of your body, lamenting each reveal of flesh with a kiss, you withdraw enough to grab his attention.

"You're not fucking me in a car."

"What?" Rafe breaths, unable to snap out of the trace you had him in. Delirious with want, his mind warped around the idea of you being so close to attainable, that all rational manners left his system. He tries to kiss you again, to resume the moment, but you pull enough to send him a deadly glare, pouty and spoiled.

"Rafe, take me somewhere nice or we're not fucking at all."

He can't believe what he's hearing. He can't believe he's contemplating it. But Rafe doesn't understand that you have it all planned out to result in a perfect moment. You won't let it be disrupted just because Rafe can't drive the extra mile to take you somewhere nice. You'd rather leave him with blue balls.

"Are you serious?" He asks slowly, his eyes drawn to your swollen lips, the little pout, and the desperation to have them back on his. Sure, Rafe's had girls who wanted something more than a casual fling. He had them ask him for a better spot, but he never obliged. He never cared. But you're different. He wants you, and it's been a hell of a chase to get you here. He'll be damned if he lets it slip away because of a pretentious standard.

"Does it look like I'm joking?" You cross your arms over your chest, pushing your breasts further up. He nearly groans at the sight. "We're not having sex here."

"The nearest place has to be at least a fifteen-minute drive," Rafe argues. And it makes you upset, brows pinched together. "We can just—"

"I don't care," you snap. "Take me somewhere nice or I'm leaving."

You're serious. He sees it on your face. Rafe can't risk that, despite wanting to protest, because he knows he if he messes this up, he won't have another chance. Swearing under his breath, he drags himself out of the backseat and into the driver's side, pulling the car out of the parking lot.

Dangerously, Rafe speeds down the road, while you're sitting in the backseat with a self-satisfied demeanor, fixing your makeup through the rearview mirror. Occasionally, Rafe spares a glance through the same reflection, connecting with your gaze, and while there's subtle bitterness coiled in his chest, he recognizes the bigger prize at hand.

And what he can do with it.

Because, despite your bratty attitude, Rafe is a person who wants control. You want perfection. You two can have both.

That's how you find yourself in a newly-booked penthouse suite at one of the bougie hotels in Kildare, your head digging into the soft comforter of the bed, your ass in the air, as Rafe drills into you from behind.

When you reached the room, everything moved frantically. Rafe slammed you against the nearest wall to kiss you again—needing your lips, needing your taste—while his hands roamed over your dress and pulled down your cleavage, revealing your tits. Your hands wandered down his pants, unbuttoning them hurriedly, needily, and he assisted you by pulling them off alongside his boxers. His cock was big, slightly red with a pearly bead of pre-cum that rolls off the tip. And you could tell by the look on Rafe's face that he wanted you to suck it.

But you told him, "I don't do blowjobs."

So fucking pretentious.

It didn't matter. He hauled you over to the king-sized bed and pushed you onto the mattress. You landed with a soft thump, while Rafe hauled you up to your ass, pushing up your dress, until it became nothing but a bundle around your waist. His movements were urgent, and he wanted—no, needed—to be inside you because a bratty girl was going to be a great fuck.

And he was right.

You're perfect. The way you wrap around him, the way he sinks inside you. He doesn't know if it's because of the delirium of wanting you so desperately, of chasing you for so long—but he never had better pussy. And it doesn't help that your moans are sweet, breathy, and loud—begging him to go faster.

"Such a pretentious brat," Rafe grabs your throat, hauling you upwards till your spine rest on his chest, airway constricted by his harsh grip. "Making me wait this fucking long."

"R—Rafe," you mewl, eyes rolling to the back of your skull at the way he's angling his cock deep into your cervix, bullying the sensitive spot over and over again until you're seeing stars.

"Had to get the princess treatment, did you?" He murmurs hotly into your ear, nibbling a spot on your neck as you rest the back of your head on his shoulder. His thrusts grow more erratic. "Had to make me earn you, didn't you?"

"You weren't going to fuck me in a car," you persist, and despite how cockdrunk you became, and how much of an attitude you're willing to sacrifice to feel good, you were still adamant about receiving what you deemed enough. He respected that. "I'm not one of your whores."

"But I'm fucking you like my own personal slut. Is that any better?" He bites the lobe of your ear, and his other hand wanders up to grab a handful of your breast, squeezing the fat before rolling your perked nipple between his fingers. You moan louder. "What does that make you?"

You can't seem to answer him, can't seem to find your senses. The words Rafe uses are vulgar, but there’s still no regrets about this entire thing. Rafe wanted you so badly, that he was willing to spend hundreds of dollars on a hotel he probably won't even stay the night in. All because you demanded it.

You win.

"Shut up," you stammer, your stomach tightening. "Shut up and just fuck me, Rafe."

Rafe grins. The hand playing with your tits slips between your thighs to assist, finding your clit easily as he rubs it with his thumb in sync with his thrusts. Breathy moans escape you as you arch into his palm, while he pistons deeper inside of you, bottoming out.

"You sound so pretty, doll," Rafe murmurs against your heated skin, "Come on, take my fucking cock."

Everything’s so dirty. The way he handles you, the way your wetness drips down your thighs, the way his words breathe onto your skin and tighten your core. But you love it. You do, but you're not willing to give in so easily. No matter how good it feels. No matter how much he feels like a prize.

"You don't deserve me." You whisper with a mewl, body tightening with the familiar wave of your undoing.

Yet, Rafe merely grins.

"But you're sucking in my cock like you need me," Rafe taunts, pleasure coursing through his body at the way your walls grip him in a vice. The way your words spark challenge and invitation. He knows, despite your spoiled attitude and pretentious demands, he'll do anything to get another chance like this. "Now, behave like a good girl or you're not coming tonight."

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[bananapeeeeellssss]

I see your Bruce Wayne is dating Batman rumors and raise you this:

Everyone knows that Bruce Wayne is dating Batman. Everyone knows that Jason Todd is Red Hood. Everyone knows that Jason Todd is Bruce Wayne’s dead son. Everyone knows Red Hood hates Batman. This is all a very open secret. Everyone knows Tim Drake and Red Robin have a very public beef with one another. And that Red Hood used to have a very public (but much more violent) beef with the third Robin.

This leads to the general accepted truth being that Red Hood hates Batman because he is fucking his dad, and Tim Drake and Red Robin dislike each other because Tim’s brother beat up Red Robin, and, once again, Red Robin’s dad is fucking Tim’s. Everyone feels a little bad for Red Robin, being at the end of both Red Hood’s and Tim Drake’s distaste, because the former is a crime lord and the latter is Timothy Jackson Drake.

This, naturally, reaches the JL whom does not know Batman’s identity yet. Green Arrow makes a passing comment about having also fucked Wayne, which Batman overhears. Cue absolute bat confusion, which he does not show. And that was how the great Batman found out that he accidentally 100% enforced the rumors that he was dating himself by the way he replied to reporters strange questions that in hindsight were so incredibly obvious.

This whole time, Young Justice is having the time of their lives (while also becoming increasingly concerned) as they watch Tim switch between devices as he replies to himself on different accounts on Twitter to further his own feud with Red Robin.

And Jason is. Not sure how he feels. On one hand, Bruce is now very uncomfortable about many, many things. And people yell at Batman when he starts treating Jason like his son (especially when he yells “I’m not your son!” Because what kind of boyfriend would try to make their boyfriend’s kid their own when they clearly don’t want to be). That’s an upside. But on the other, this implies that he is Bruce’s son. And that brings up a lot of feelings he doesn’t want to deal with. And back on that first hand, people have mostly stopped making thirst traps of his dad (gross). And on the second once more, they have started shipping Red Robin and Tim.

And the others are just sitting back and enjoying the ride (they are absolutely a part of this, but I’m too lazy to type out and come up with ideas for the rest)

[psychoticwillgraham]

finally gonna do my will inspired makeup later tonight!! yippee!!! wahoo!!!