#all in all a show with good messages about life and a good cast | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

beomcoups · 2 months ago

Text

fated strut- pt. i

̗̀➛ 𝐏𝐚𝐢𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠: greek god!Jeonghan x model!reader

̗̀➛ 𝐒𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲: In a whirlwind fashion show, a part-time model's life takes a mystical turn when she becomes the muse for the captivating Greek God Jeonghan. Unbeknownst to her, she shares a deep connection tied to his past. As their chemistry ignites amidst secrets and rivalries, will love conquer their complicated fates?

̗̀➛ 𝐆𝐞𝐧𝐫𝐞: fluff, angst, smut, fantasy, doppleganger au, r 18+

̗̀➛ 𝐖𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬: nocturnal emission (sex dream), unprotected sex, kissing, fingering, backshots, riding, oral, biting, hair pulling, multiple orgasms, pet names, sweet stuff, a lil bit of squirting, cream pie, oh and cursing 😂

̗̀➛ 𝐖𝐨𝐫𝐝𝐬: 7.2k

̗̀➛ 𝐀𝐍: This fic has had me stressed for the last couple of months lol. I have always been into greek mythology (I even hosted a multi collab before for it) and I got the idea earlier this year to do another one but just for seventeen. Thank you Maren @wooahaeproductions for hosting the 13 Gods Of Olympus collab with me and helping it come to life. Also thank you to @hannieween and @hobeemin for beta reading this and giving me some much needed feedback. I knew what I had was good and with your help it made it better :) also thank you to @cheolism and @junkissed for letting me run some ideas with them about the greek mythology and the BC era lol. I hope you like this 🖤

Golden light filters through your curtains, casting soft shadows that dance across the room. The scent of something sweet—honey and vanilla—lingers in the air, pulling at the edges of your consciousness. Everything feels so real and vivid, so alive. There is a haze in the light that looks nostalgic.

You are sitting on a kline, handcrafted by Hephaestus himself, weaving away with a ball of twine in your hands. The clatter of sandals against the hard floor gets your attention. Looking up, Jeonghan is standing there, his blonde hair shimmering in the light, with a playful smile on his lips.

“Shouldn’t be off delivering those messages to the mortals?” You tease him playfully.

“They can wait,” he says, setting down his bag. “I have more pressing matters to attend to.”

“Oh?” You slowly set down your twine. “What is that?”

He walks over and kisses you deeply, sending ripples through your soul. You realize quickly that the “pressing matter” was that he wanted to be inside of you, and you were more than happy to oblige.

“Jeonghan, you’re going to get in trouble with Zeus,” you taunt him.

“I don’t care,” he grits, pulling you into another kiss.

You take off your gown, your nakedness exposed to him in all its glory. Jeonghan’s eyes you with adoration and lust, his hand palming the growing bulge under his toga. Sheer excitement runs through your veins, the thought of being roughly fucked on the kline making you wet with arousal. As if he read your mind, he tugs at your hair and bends you over, his fingers seductively playing with your sweet folds.

“You’re already so wet for me, my love?” He licks your essence coated on his digits. “I have to break the rules more often.”

Your laugh is light as the air, anticipating and craving him deeply. You find yourself pressing your clit, spreading your legs apart, and rubbing it so he can get a better view. Jeonghan licks his lips at the sight before him, his hand stroking his cock as he lines up to your entrance.

“Please,” your breathy moans floating in the room. “Give it to me.”

“As you wish,” he murmurs as he inserts himself in your clenching heat. Your back arches as his thrusts go deep, the clapping sound of your skin against his hard and loud enough to create thunder from the heavens. Jeonghan looks down in amusement, watching your ass bounce every time he snaps his hips. He’s turned on and seduced, and you could have him turn into puddy with just one look. That’s how much he is into you. That’s how much he loves you.

“You feel s-so g-good,” you barely sound out. “I-I love you.”

Jeonghan pulls you by your hair, his thrusts unrelenting as he kisses you hard. “I love you too.”

He raises his leg on the kline, pushing you back down, and strokes you from another angle. Your legs shake, your peak nearing as he continues to hit your pleasure points in all the right ways. “FUCK” is all you can scream out before you come undone, your essence squirting all over him and the floor. You are a whimpering mess, clutching the edge of the kline as he continues his onslaught until his release comes shortly after. He fills you up with his hot load, pumping his dick until he is spent, slowly slipping out of you. The loss is evident, and his cum starts to drip in between your folds.

“Uh, uh,” he frowns as he crouches behind you. “We can’t leave that to waste, can we?”

He swipes what’s dripping down your leg with his fingers, returning them to your mouth to suck. You suck them with earnest, your eyes closing with sexual gratification. He turns you wild, and you want more. You attempt to initiate another round, but you are interrupted by the sound of thunder just outside your window, scaring you half to death.

“Sounds like the big guy is mad,” Jeonghan reluctantly pulls away. “I have to go.”

“Yeah, I know,” you nod, kneeling down to grab your gown. “You’ll be back, right?”

He gazes at you with the softest eyes you have ever seen, letting him pull you close into another kiss. “Don’t I always come back?”

Your world shifts into a fading memory, the golden haze slowly replaced with stark brown walls and paintings. Jeonghan is gone. The thunder outside is as real as ever, followed by a bolt of lightning that feels too close to home. Reality slowly sets in, and you realize you are having a dream. This is the second one you have had this week with Jeonghan, the infamous Greek god. It feels natural, like you’re watching a memory of yourself, and you don’t understand it.

You frantically grab your journal, jotting down every moment before the details get fuzzy and lost forever. This has to mean something, right?

A few weeks later...

You feel the galvanic buzz of anticipation humming as you stand backstage at Paris Fashion Week. Models twirl past you, dripping in the latest haute couture, their expressions exuding fierceness. You? You were just happy to be there. As the last-minute addition, the unexpected wildcard about to open the show—your heart races, matching the rhythm of the music that spills into the warehouse. The scent of expensive cologne and crepitus excitement lingers around you.

You weren’t even supposed to be here at all. You model in your part-time to pay the bills, but your real love, your true passion, is classical studies—specifically, your focus on Greek mythology. Growing up, you’ve always heard the stories of the Gods who ruled the world and how slowly but surely they started disappearing because people quit believing in them. Your mom, who raised you pagan, would tell you about missionaries coming over and preaching the Bible and using it in force, and people started losing their way and adapting to this new life. There are still gods amongst us who will never go away, no matter what. People are still human and have needs, after all.

That’s what brought you here tonight—Jeonghan, the god of many things, keeps appearing in your dreams; scenes of a past life take up much of your night, and you can’t ignore it anymore. You have to see and know him, and you aren’t above using unconventional methods to get what you want. You cozied up to the right people and got yourself cast onto his fashion show. Sometimes, all it takes is a look, a touch of your hand, or very selective words to get what you want. You aren’t sure you would call it a power… let’s just say you are persuasive.

“Thank the gods you are here tonight,” the stage manager, Lea, says as she adjusts your dress. “I can’t believe she didn’t show up.”

The model that was supposed to open up the show, Penelopeia, partied a little too hard the night before. How do you know this? You were right beside her, dancing and drinking the night away. You knew her in passing, working for the same modeling agency, and talked here and there, but you two aren’t friends. But you were out with acquaintances last night, and she was there. Ultimately, she is a grown woman and can make her own choices, but you might’ve given her some extra encouragement when she complained about her being tired and “needing” a break. You told her it was “fine” to blow off some steam, which wouldn’t mean anything. The touch of your hand when you held hers and listened to her cry about how tough her life is and whispered nothings in her ear. It was perfect.

“Are you ready?”

You nod as the music changes, the lights dim, and you take your place behind the runway. Your heartbeat matched the drum's beat in your ears.

“I'm like some kind of supernova... watch out!”

On cue, you walked, every gaze drawn to you as your body moved to the beat, each step a spell cast upon the audience. Unbeknownst to you, Jeonghan stood backstage, mesmerized by the essence you exuded, a natural allure that made him curious with its intensity.

You circle the runway and walk back to where you came from, your body on autopilot as your linen dress sashes across your body. You are rushed backstage, the dress slipping off of you hurriedly, briefly exposing your breasts while you are putting on another. You feel eyes burning into the back of your neck, and you instinctively turn around, meeting Jeonghan's soft brown eyes. His warm blonde locks hang below his ears, touching his delicate neck. He smirked, raising his glass of red wine, and you meekly looked away, clearly affected by a god's presence.

Jeonghan watches you intently as you take another lap around the runway. The familiarity of your presence slowly creeps in, and curiosity is taking care of the cat. He’s been around for a long time now, and he’s seen a lot of faces, old and new. But you remind him of an old lover from his past life, someone he prefers to keep buried in the back of his mind. You were clearly a doppelganger of her, and watching you in the flesh unnerves him to his core. There is no need to bring up thousands-year-old drama now. You’re in front of him now, beautiful as ever, and despite every red flag— he will have you wrapped around his fingers by the end of the night.

You walk backstage and are dragged to the side by your dresser, who is adjusting your clothes one last time for your final walk. She fusses with your hair, a small annoyance you put up with because you know she is doing her job. You find yourself searching for Jeonghan through the slew of models, your eyes not resting until you see him talking to his stage assistant near the beginning of the runway. He is a god in every sense of the word. Butterflies flutter in the pit of your stomach when you see his soft, delicate features and how he carries himself. Very deific, very mindful.

“He’s mesmerizing, isn’t he?”

You slowly come out of your self-induced trance, meeting the eyes of your dresser, Helen, a younger woman who couldn’t be older than 21. Her doe-eyed look makes her look innocent, and you feel the need to protect her from this cruel industry.

“He’s okay,” you clear your throat.

“Oh please, he’s a divine enigma,” Helen chuckled, a playful smirk gracing her lips. “It’s perfectly natural to admire someone’s allure, especially someone so utterly enchanting as HIM.”

You couldn’t help but chuckle at her outburst, knowing that deep down, she was right. Jeonghan is the sexiest man you have ever laid eyes on. It doesn’t help that he is the god of fortune, luxury, and all the other things that make him much more attractive.

“Okay, it’s time to do the final walk,” Helen announces as she finishes up. “You are going to walk out with him in front since you technically walked first in the show.”

You gaze at Jeonghan across the way, watching him wrap up his conversation with the stage assistant. “Is this custom? I thought usually the models walk out one final time, and then the designer comes out towards the end.”

“Usually, yeah,” Helen shrugs. “But that’s not how Jeonghan does things.”

She lightly pushes you towards the front, catching his attention as the strobe lights change colors. You glowed in your dress, symbolizing a halo of beauty that made it hard for Jeonghan to turn away. This catches him off guard, a strange chill running through his veins that he is unfamiliar with. Keeping himself in line, he saunters over to you, his close proximity filling your stomach with butterflies.

“Don’t be nervous, baby,” he whispers in your ear. “I don’t bite.”

The thought of his perfect mouth giving you love bites thrills you, and an intense longing starts to brew within your core. Feeling bold, you smile softly, responding in a tone only he could hear.

“Well, that’s too bad.”

Jeonghan chuckles lightly, impressed by your cheekiness. He slips his arm between yours, waiting for the curtains to open. The light touch of his arm brushing against yours gives you goosebumps, the exuberance bubbling inside you. You’ve studied him all your life, read the stories, and visited the ancient sites from many moons ago. You have never been near a Greek god, let alone touch one, and for a moment, you forget why you were really there. You were just a pretty model, attracted to the most successful man in the world, and the way he looks at you right now is setting your loins on fire.

The curtains finally open, and you walk with him arm and arm like you were his equal. The other models did as they were supposed to do, walking behind you as you two set the runway ablaze. You stood in the center while he gave his bows; the audience applauded in crescendos. Jeonghan then returns to your side, his presence intoxicating and making you almost lose your senses. You walk in unison until you reach backstage, and Helen is waiting for you to help you out of your dress. Before you parted ways, he lightly touched your hand, grabbing your attention and Helen’s, with raised eyebrows.

“I’m interested in sharing another stage with you,” he whispers, his brown eyes gleaming with desire. “Without all the light and people watching us. Beyond the runway.”

You cock an eyebrow playfully, putting on your best poker face, but inside, nervousness eats at you alive. You know you shouldn’t do this, as your sole reason was to find answers about him and why he encompasses your every dream. It took a lot of sweet talking and favors to get you in his lineup, let alone starting the show and inadvertently being his muse of the day. You knew you were going to have to mix your business with pleasure, and with the way he is gazing at you, the business is going further in the back of your mind.

“Where do I sign up?” You say coyly, rubbing your finger against the fabric of his shirt.

“Meet me in the back in fifteen minutes, and I’ll take you to my place.”

You nod, and he leaves you with a soft kiss on your cheek. “Don’t be late.”

You watched him walk away, still feeling his warm lips on your cheek. You kept it cool, casually grabbing your things, but inside, you were buzzing, excitement bursting through your chest like fireworks. You weren’t sure what the night would bring, but you would never turn down the possibility of being in the company of a Greek god.

You make your way to the back as directed, exchanging goodbyes with Helen and watching the models leave one by one. Fifteen minutes exactly, Jeonghan appears, twirling his car keys in his hands and opening the back door for you, leading you to a classic Mercedes Benz 250CE. He opens your door like the gentleman he is, making sure you are secure in your seat before coming over to the driver’s side.

“Are you ready to go, doll?”

You nod, your sparkling eyes matching your smile. “Yeah, let’s go.”

The car ride was a short one, but it felt like it was going on forever. He played smooth jazz, driving with one hand and conveniently placing his hand on your thigh. Your mind was filled with thoughts of your dreams—the intimacy you felt and the sadness that tormented you when he disappeared.

“You seem comfortable,” Jeonghan observed. “Most people would be scared to be with me.”

“Well, I have a feeling I am in good hands,” you answer honestly.

You had so many questions about him as a Greek god, as it's not often (or really at all) that you can talk to one. Despite these waves of emotions tugging at your heart, you maintained a flawless facade until you arrived at his residence, a beautiful hotel that housed penthouses only the wealthy lived in.

“Welcome in.”

The housekeeper greeted you as you walked into Jeonghan’s penthouse, located in the heart and soul of Paris. The interior was dripped in luxury, feeling more like an art gallery than a place to live. Everything has a place, and it makes you nervous about even moving around in the event you accidentally bump into something. The vinyl player played soulful jazz, a fancy concert piano was in the corner and hundreds of books lined up like his own personal library. Jeonghan guides you by your waist to the kitchen, a grand spectacle of the finest cooking ware, dishes, and appliances that were way above your budget. You sit on a stool while he pours you a glass of red, the finest from Chateauneuf du Pape.

“Nice place,” you sweet talk him. “I would say you must’ve worked hard to get all this, but I know better.”

“Do you?” He counters, handing you your glass. “Do you think you know everything?”

“I know what I know from books, archives, etcetera,” you explain casually. “It’s not like I can ring up Zeus and ask him to read me a bedtime story.”

His lips curve as he chuckles, watching you sip the rich ruby-red liquid in your glass. “You have a sense of humor. I like that.”

You smirked, leaving him to his thoughts as you walked towards the large picture window, looking at the Eiffel Tower. It’s late, but the city has so much life in it. The tall, grandeur buildings that have stood through the ages are accompanied by French lights and taxis flying back and forth at night. Between your studies, walking runways, and doing commercial shoots, it was a matter of time before you made it out of the United States and into Paris.

You aren’t this in-demand model agencies are banging the door down for. But when you come to work, you work. You know how to convince people to take a chance on you, whether it's your words of intellect or how you pose. Your mom always taught you to be observant and scope the scene before you act; that advice hasn’t stirred you wrong before.

In the window's reflection, you watch Jeonghan gently place his glass on the table, the soft clink barely breaking the serene silence. He strides to your right, his presence warm and magnetic as he stands beside you, eyes mesmerized by the sprawling cityscape before you.

“So why are you here? Aside from the obvious.”

Jeonghan’s question catches you off guard, stirring you out of your peaceful daydream.

“What do you mean?”

“Come on, baby,” Jeonghan cocks his head. “Don’t play coy.”

Your response hangs in the air as you search for the right words. How do you confess to a god that you've been dreaming of them without knowing why? You are sure they have heard it all before, and you wouldn’t be any different.

“Honestly speaking,” you start, taking another sip of your wine. “I’ve studied you all my life: the Greek Gods and the beings you used to be on Earth. Your stories fascinate me, and I want to put this master’s degree in classical studies to good use.”

“Uh huh,” Jeonghan hums. “Are you sure that’s it?”

“I mean, I may have other reasons… but I can’t tell you all my secrets.”

You finish the remnants in your glass, sauntering and setting it next to his. You glance up, your heart beating fast as you meet his gaze. He watches you intently, a spark of amusement dancing in his beautiful brown eyes as he watches you internally squirm. At that moment, it feels as though the world has narrowed down to just the two of you, and you feel yourself being sucked into his spell.

“Well, are you going to stare at me all night or show me around this place?”

You raise your hand, waiting for him to grab it and lead the way. He does just that, showing you around his massive penthouse. You don’t know if you could ever afford this place even if you had all the money in the world. Every room has its bathroom, and the balcony is beautifully decorated with a view to die for. You notice another room with more books than the collection you saw earlier, and you make a note later to ask about it… even hoping to take a peek at potentially ancient history.

Jeonghan slipped his hand on your waist as the tour went on, pulling you close like you were already his. His slender fingers held on to you kind of tight, like he was imprinting on you… You can’t say you don’t like that.

You stop in front of his bedroom, the dark forest green double-doored room paired with gold handles waiting to be opened. You gaze at Jeonghan, who leans against the door, casually putting his hands in his pockets.

“Is there a reason why we are just standing here?” You pose, playing with the hem of his shirt.

“No reason at all,” he responds, pulling you closer to him. “I just like looking at my bedroom door closed, that’s all.”

You raise an eyebrow, quite aware that he is teasing you. Being around him gives you a rush through your veins, a magnetic pull that sets your nerves and soul on fire. You know you should be doing a better job fighting this attraction between you two, but being around him makes you slowly lose all of your senses. He’s intoxicating; you feel hazy, like you are in a dream and don’t want to wake up.

“So, are you going to sweet talk me in front of this door all night, or are you going to let me in?”

He chuckles softly as he opens his doors, leading to a grand master bedroom that all of the words in the dictionary couldn’t come close to describing. You knew he was the god of luxury, but what’s in front of your eyes exceeds that. This is opulence in its purest form. His massive king-size bed was decked with the finest white blankets and pillows filled with goose feathers that looked handcrafted with care. Your toes bask in the softest fur rug you have ever touched. It felt like you were walking on clouds. Jeonghan motions for you to sit on the bed, taking your hand as he helps you climb up. Your dress rises a bit, exposing your inner thigh to your surprise and his delight.

“Don’t get any ideas,” you rib, crossing your legs slowly.

“Don’t worry, baby. You’ll give me an invitation by the end of the night.”

You roll your eyes, a smile tugging at the corners of your lips as you adjust your dress. Watching him move with purpose to his shelf, he pulls out a vinyl and puts it in the player. Recognizing Billie Holiday's distinct and powerful voice, you lean back into the pillows and watch him approach the other side of the bed. With a snap of his fingers, the lights dim, opening the curtains and revealing another side of Paris, a quieter one that shows the city below. The ceiling separates slowly, revealing a twilight blue skyline with dark clouds surrounding you. It’s beautiful.

You feel the bed shift on your left, and Jeonghan climbs quietly, his movements as light as a cat. He lifts the comforter, a gentle invitation for you to come under as his feet disappear under the thick cover.

“Are you this friendly with all the women you bring over?” You smirk, raising an eyebrow.

“Nope,” his laugh is light as he rakes his fingers through his hair. “Just the ones I like.”

You nod, following his lead and slowly basking into the warm cover. You can still see him in the low light, his radiance shining through the dark room. Maybe it’s because of your extensive research of him and your knowledge, but he feels familiar. Every fiber in your body tells you to pull closer to him and confess every little thought swirling in your head. Is this what it’s like to be in front of a god?

“So, a master's in Classical Studies, huh?” Jeonghan probes, his index finger making a swirling motion on his sheets. “Let me guess, you have a focus on Greek mythology?”

Despite putting on your best poker face, you felt like something bitter went down your throat. He caught you off guard, and to be frank, it’s your fault. The god of many things and the most intelligent being to walk on this Earth would of course know who you are. He probably had your whole life story while you walked on his runway.

“Ah,” you exhale. “You must think I’m crazy.”

“Nah, I don’t,” he assures. “I’m very intrigued by you.”

“Are you?”

“Yes. You’re smart, carry yourself well, almost as witty as me, and very well-spoken. Why do you choose to model instead of working in something with your degree?”

You stare at him, his words chipping away at your exterior piece by piece. You could sit here and come up with a lie that sounds plausible and keep your secrets. But you want to know why he keeps plaguing your dreams, and maybe he has the answers you need to make sense of this. Some honesty can’t hurt, right?

“I… like the attention,” you confess. “I like the way people look at me when I walk by. I love being adored and wanted. I like that I am so educated and an effective communicator that I can talk myself into things I want to be in. That and my looks combined? I don’t get turned down often.”

Jeonghan gazes at you, wondering if he should be amazed at your self-awareness or frightened. Admittedly, your confidence turns him on, and you have the kind of intellect he likes on a deeper level. Your voice is calm and seductive without even trying, and not to mention, you have a timeless beauty that makes it hard to look away. When you walked down that runway, your stride was a beautiful masterpiece—it held him captive. It was as if you were trained by Aphrodite herself.

“Plus, I am not totally abandoning my degree,” you continue on. “I want to eventually write about the Greek gods and the legends behind them. So many stories and their lore have been forgotten as people worship other gods, and I don’t want that to be forgotten. It feels like a passion project, but I know this will benefit the world somehow.”

“How?”

“Well,” you clear your throat. “It will provide a different perspective of ancient civilization.”

You run your hands through your hair, causing the v top of your dress to shift slightly, partially revealing your cleavage. You reach down to adjust it, and Jeonghan eyes your every move as you gradually slide your dress back up. It’s your favorite dress, which you picked up at a thrift store a long time ago in New York. It’s a jade green evening dress that hugs your body the right way, with a mid-thigh split on the right.

“You’re quiet,” you observe, shifting your body closer to him. “What’s on your mind?”

“Nothing, just taking in what you said.” He pauses, his finger slowly sliding down to the slit of your dress. “I like the way you think.”

You nod, carefully choosing your next words. “I’m glad I made you feel that way.”

Your insides are on fire, begging for him to touch you in all the wrong right places. As if he could read your mind, he pulls you in for a kiss, his soft lips tearing down any walls you had. In a swift motion, he’s on top of you, hiking your dress up as he grinds his growing bulge against your sensitive core. A pleased hum escapes your lips, your body completely giving in to him.

“Mmm, you smell sweet,” Jeonghan utters, biting the bottom of your lip. “I’m sure you’ll taste just as good.”

His lips travel down your neck, sucking on your smooth skin until it's tender. Your hands desperately grab onto his silky blond hair as his tongue plays in circles along your collarbone, igniting a fire in you. You slowly lower the straps of your dress, tugging at the silky fabric until it lowers completely, revealing your breasts. Jeonghan marvels at the sight in front of him, his fingers brushing softly against your nipples.

“Ah, you’re a goddess,” he whispers. “I’m going to have fun with you.”

He kisses you again, his hunger for you hot and strong as he unbuttons his shirt, revealing his smooth chest and defined abs. Fire and desire burn between you two, and you thirstily tug at his pants, pushing them down so you can see his cock, threatening to break free in his boxers.

“You are an eager little thing, aren’t you?”

“I just know what I like, that’s all.”

Leaving you with one last kiss, he moves on your breasts, cupping them softly and sucking on your nipples with such tenderness as if they were prized possessions. Your perfume mix smells pleasant to him, like an aphrodisiac, and he cannot get enough. Jeonghan usually likes to play with his food a bit before he eats it, but you bring something out of him that he hasn’t felt in a long time: impulsiveness and passion. He wants you more than he cares to admit, making him act out of his cool, calm, and collected nature. He sucks on your nipples harder, earning a hard moan from you, the blend of pleasure and pain igniting waves of excitement that leaves you breathless.

His hand slips in between your legs, pushing them apart and sliding your panties to the side. His thumb rubs your clit softly, sending jolts of pleasure throughout your body. Jeonghan has you feeling like you are floating on air, unable to tell him what you want coherently.

“Mmm… fuck I can’t take this,” you mutter.

“Well, you will learn tonight, baby,” Jeonghan smirks as he lowers himself to your sweet entrance. “Tell me what you want.”

“F-fuck,” you cooed. “You know what I want.”

“Just because I am a god doesn’t mean I can read your mind,” he teases, biting softly on your thigh. “Tell me what you want.”

You feel hot and rabid, trying to chase a high you are so close to getting. Jeonghan removes his thumb from your nub, snickering as he watches you groan in protest. He is determined to make you beg for it, and watching you squirm and fall apart underneath him would be the highlight of his night. He inserts a digit inside your wet core; a sweet smile spreads across your face soon after.

“J-Jeonghan,” you sputter. “P-please just—”

“Say it, baby.”

“Fuck, just make me cum, please.”

Jeonghan slips a second finger into you, leaving small kisses on your thigh as he thrusts into your wet cunt. Your hands grip the sheets as he goes deeper, watching excitedly as your essence coats his fingers and his sheets. He planned to study you, explore what made you tick, and how your body liked to be teased. He wants to hear your perfect voice scream his name as your body shakes from being royally fucked by a god, and the way you are laid out in front of him, he is losing all composure.

“Such a good girl,” he murmurs. “I think you deserve to cum now.”

Quickly removing his fingers, he dives into your wet folds with his tongue and up to your sensitive clit. His fingers intertwine with yours, eating you with such a craze, the hunger of a starved being who is eating his favorite meal for the last time. The vibrating hums of his mouth to your delicate flower sends you over the edge, your orgasm crashing down on you hard. He holds onto your thighs, holding you hostage as he takes everything you got. You proved him right—you tasted just as sweet as your perfume. He’s addicted to your aroma, a natural aphrodisiac that he will never get enough of.

“There you are, princess, ” he whispers. “Keep giving it to me.”

Your moans turn into whines and then screams, your fingers desperately clinging to the sheets as he drinks you in. Jeonghan’s appetite is insatiable, and the god’s thirst for you is getting stronger by the minute. His nails dig into your thighs as he licks up and down your folds, desperate to taste more of your sweet essence. You feel airy, your body floating on cloud nine as if you have never had this kind of pleasure before. Sure, you have had your experiences and what you thought was the best sex of your life, but those don’t even come close to this.

“Come on baby, give me another,” he goads you. “I know you have it in you.”

“J-Jeonghan,” you croak, desperation falling on your lips. “P-please. You win.”

“Win?” He chuckles softly. “ I haven’t even started.”

His fingers return to your entrance, thrusting into you while his tongue remains on your clit. His lips make lewd noises, slurping and smacking away as he bullies you into your second orgasm of the night. Your toes curl, the springs in your abdomen snapping as it ripples through you like a hard wave. Jeonghan moans into your sweet core as you surrender to him; his pupils dilate as he takes the remaining energy that you have left. His free hand furiously pulls down his boxers, liberating his cock, and he touches himself at last. He jerks himself to the thought of your mouth wrapped around his dick, tasting his cum as he shoots loads down your throat. He could easily stop and make his imagination a reality, but you just taste too damn good.

“Damn,” you curse, brushing his hair from his face. “You are so good at this.”

“Mmhmm,” is all he could say, his cruel tongue still playing circles around your clit. You lift yourself away from him, watching him pout as you take his meal. You can barely move, your legs still spasming from that earth-shattering orgasm. Your eyes travel lower to his freed cock, watching him pump himself with such eagerness, the precum oozing from his tip begging to be sucked. He was thick and girthy, his veins popping in places you liked. Your mouth salivates at the thought of tasting him in your mouth.

“Can I?”

You sit up, gently motioning for him to lay back on the pillow. Curiosity gets the better of him, and he does what he is told, relaxing his hands behind his head. Jeonghan isn’t used to his playmates wanting to take control in the bedroom; most of them just want to have a story to tell about being fucked by a god. You excite him, a confident woman who knows what they want and isn’t apologetic about it. The twinkle in your eye you have for him turns him on, and he is counting the seconds where he can finally be inside of you.

Your hand slides up his shaft, watching him shudder from your touch. You lean down, sucking on his tip and tasting his precum. You make eye contact as you take more of him, hallowing your cheeks and letting saliva drip out of the corners of your mouth. He tastes better than you imagined, and you feel gratification watching his lips part and low moans escape his pretty little mouth. You feel dirty, like his own personal whore, and you aren’t mad at that. Your very sensitive core still wants him, your clit pulsating at the thought of his very thick cock beating your walls down.

“You look so beautiful with your lips wrapped around me, princess,” he grunts, taking a handful of your hair. “Let’s see if you can handle me.”

Jeonghan fucks your mouth roughly with such a force and rhythm that was only his, tears streaking your face as you take him whole. His dick hits the back of your throat, and you are thankful that you have a mean gag reflex. It’s smooth, clean, and fits your mouth just right. It’s like it was molded and shaped just for you. Your hand sneaks in between your legs, playing with your nub and willing yourself to cum for the third time.

“Tsk, tsk, you dirty girl,” Jeonghan murmurs between grunts. “You do want me that bad? Do you want my cock inside your wet cunt?”

You nod fervently, your fingers increasing their pace. He pulls himself out of your mouth suddenly, lifting your head and kissing you with such an intense fire, his hands grasping your ass and giving it a tight smack.

“I want to ride you, baby,” you breathe between kisses. “I want to feel you inside of me. Give me that, please.”

He wants you as bad as you want him, his adrenaline pumping through his veins as he positions himself on the bed. His hands grab your hips, hovering over him as he aligns his cock to meet your entrance. The thought came to your mind about using a condom, but it went away quickly when you sunk onto him. He feels good; your walls tighten around him as you adjust to his size, rocking slowly back and forth to get a rhythm.

“That’s it,” Jeonghan groans as he cups your breasts. “Take me however you want me.”

You increase your pace while he bucks into you, biting your lip until it's crimson red. His nails dig into your hips, the pain mixed with the pleasure sending you soaring through cloud nine. You lose all inhibition, riding him harder and deeper, addicted to chasing that orgasmic high that you feel coming sooner than you’d expected. Your body is on autopilot, refusing to stop until you’ve cummed on him at least once. If you didn’t know any better, you would say you were falling in love with him. The sex you had with him in your dreams doesn’t even come close to the real thing. His cock consistently hits all the right places, and he pays great attention to your body, teasing you and pushing you to your limits until you are sent over the edge.

Jeonghan grabs you by your neck and kisses you deeply, thrusting deeper into you until you can no longer keep your composure. He loves watching you lose control, surrendering your body to him and screaming his name loud enough for the neighbors to hear. His lips are slightly parted, whispering sweet things in your ear, praising you for taking him so well and rewarding you with filling you up with his cum. You look every bit fucked out and heavenly to him, and he wishes he could stay buried inside of you forever. What he feels for you is risky, and if it were someone else, he would turn those feelings off. But with you and the way you are taking him so well, he is completely into you.

He helps you ride out your high, kissing you from your lips to your collarbone until you are overripe with sensitivity. Slowly lifting you, he lays you gently on his right, allowing you to catch your breath.

“I-I don’t think I have ever been fucked like that before,” you confess in between breaths. “Are you sure you’re not the god of love?”

Jeonghan chuckles, putting on a robe and heading towards the bathroom. Looking at himself in the mirror, he notices a few scratches you left, noticeable dig marks from your nails that dug into his skin. He shrugs them off, knowing that the next day, they will disappear, and it will be like they were never there. He’s been on this Earth for a long time and has slept his way through all the women and men he desired, but this night with you has topped all of them. He feels a connection with you mentally and spiritually, and after feeling you for the first time, he is determined to keep you by his side. By all means.

Your eyes are heavy with exhaustion, the day’s events catching up to you as your body acclimates with the sheets. You hear soft water running from the bathroom, and a few seconds later, Jeonghan appears in front of the door, his robe removed and naked. You glance at him and smirk, slowly getting out of bed and walking towards him. He is a divine enigma indeed.

“Don’t worry, darling,” he assures you. “It’ll be a nice, relaxing bath.”

His bathroom was definitely tailored to his taste. It had white and forest green marble floors, a shower stall big enough for more than three people centered in the middle, and two vanity sinks placed on opposite ends of each other. The tub was round and spacious, placed by the circular window that allowed you to see the stars at night. You slowly step into the foaming water, the sweet aroma of vanilla and bergamots filling your senses and pleasing your soul. Jeonghan comes in behind you, the water slightly splooshing around as his arms wrap around your waist, pulling you close. You relax on his chest, feeling at peace as you stare outside the window. It feels so natural, feeling this comfortable around him.

Your dreams of him show that you two had a successful relationship. You were partners in everything. He was good at communicating, and you knew how to support him and could persuade anyone if needed. You understood your roles, and you were perfect. So why do they always end with you walking away?

“What are you doing tomorrow?” Jeonghan’s voice breaks through your reverie.

He unwraps his arms around you, places his hands on your shoulders, and gives you a comforting massage. You close your eyes, letting the steam from the warm water relax your muscles.

“Heading back home,” you sigh heavily. “I have some go-sees to book and also continue my research. I have to put these looks and my big brain to use.”

“Yeah, no, you’re not,” Jeonghan declares smoothly. “I want you to stay here and work for me. Become my new muse.”

He watches you react closely, his eyes shining with mischief. “Just think about it. You would be my inspiration, my spark. Imagine the kind of magic we would create together.”

He catches you off guard but excites you nevertheless. Jeonghan wants to make you the face of his brand. You would be crazy to turn that down. Plus, it makes you so much closer to your research and figuring out your dreams. This was the universe giving you a sign.

“Yeah,” you say after thinking it over. “I would be open to that.”

You sink further into his chest, your tiredness getting the best of you, and falling into a slumber in the warm water. Jeonghan leaves light kisses on your shoulder, watching you sleep peacefully in his arms. He could go for another glass of wine, a perfect way to top off his night with you. He knows getting entangled with his ex-lover’s doppelganger is risky business, and eventually, he will have to deal with the truth of things. But tonight is not the night to open Pandora’s box and bring up the ancient feelings and heartache that he’s put behind. Instead, he will lay here with you, enjoying the sereneness while it lasts.

Thank you for reading ^_^ if you would like to join my taglist, sign up here.

#kvanity #kwritersworldnet #svthub #svt oneshot #svt scenarios #svt imagines #kpop fanfic #lapydiariesnet #svt fanfic #svt fic #svt fluff #svt angst #svt smut #jeonghan fanfic #jeonghan smut #jeonghan imagines #jeonghan one shot

500 notes · View notes

livwritessometimes · 6 months ago

Text

I LOVE YOU!

: Part 11 (Oscar's Version)

: It's bout time Oscar comes clean about his feelings

: Prev | Next

: Series Masterlist

: Main Masterlist

: author’s note - I almost had a heart attack!!! this fic was scheduled and it did not release and it wasn’t showing in the scheduled section and I almost lost it

…

“Oscar??” Y/n said, confused, as she made her way towards the man in front of her.

“What are you doing here?” She asked as she finally got a better view of the comp science major standing under the lights that cast a soft glow on his face.

"Y/n," Oscar said, a hint of nervousness laced his voice. "I'm glad you came!" he said.

"Wait, are you the one who left that message??" Y/n asked. Not bothering to wait for a reply, she continued, "How did you even do that? Wasn't Mr. Stella working on it? So how did you even get the chance to change that? Unless you were working on it with him. Is that what you were doing? Why? First you ignore me, keep on making excuses, ditch me to hang out with another girl, and then when I get someone else to help me with this, you go behind my back and work on it?? How does that even make sense? Osc-" Her ramble was cut short with Oscar suddenly shouting, "Stop! Y/n, would you please stop for the love of God and let me explain?"

The girl instantly fell silent, waiting for the boy to continue. "Yes, I changed the form so that you could get the coordinates. I had gone to Mr. Stella and begged him if I could work on the form and finish what I had started with you," Oscar said.

"Why? Why would you do all that? Because I told you I don't need your help? Is that why you decided to call me here late at night? and for what?" Y/n said, feeling herself get teary-eyed by the sudden outburst of emotions. "Do you not want me to do well in the assignment? Is that what this is because if that is why you are doing all of this Oscar Piastri, I swear to god?"

"I did this because I LOVE YOU," Oscar blurted out; he could not take it any longer. He could not keep his mouth shut and watch the girl he loves think he did all of this out of spite.

Y/n felt her heart stop. This was not what she was expecting when she left her house today in hopes of finding the person behind the mysterious message. "What??" Y/n said, in fact, that was all she could get herself to say.

"I love you; I have for a while now. Daniel had texted me one day saying that he's happy to see me happy with you, and I freaked out. I know that this was no excuse for me ignoring you, and I'm really sorry for that. But I didn't know how else to react," Oscar said, staring down at the ground, refusing to look at Y/n.

"I've never felt like this; all my life I never felt like the need to be with someone, and so I never bothered with it. But the more time we spent together for the project, the more I realized that I did not want it to end. And so I started to make excuses just so we could spend more time working on the project. But I didn't realize that doing so would make it end sooner," he said. "Lily was just working with me on one of our assignments; I never thought you'd think that I was dating her. I never meant for things to get so complicated between us. I understood your decision to work with my professor, and I'm sorry I went behind your back to work on the project. Please don't get angry with him; he was very hesitant to let me do this in the first place. I just hope that we can still be friends." Oscar finally finished and looked up at Y/n.

Both Y/n and Oscar had taken a seat at one of the chairs kept outside, and for a good five minutes no words were exchanged between the two. Suddenly, Y/n got up and said, "I'm sorry, Oscar, but I have to go," and without waiting for him to reply, Y/n walked out of the cafe.

Leaving a confused and heartbroken Oscar behind.

…

765 notes · View notes

lottins-only · 1 month ago

Text

CROSS THE LINE | Jude Bellingham

pairing: jude bellingham x fem!reader, unnamed fictional RM player x fem!reader

word count: 3.1k

summary: after a fallout with your boyfriend, you find solace in a spontaneous night at the movies, where you run into his golden boy teammate. one thing leads to another and you cross the line.

A/N: first judith fic!! this was really fun to write. (very loosely) based on guilty as sin by taylor swift. let me know what yall think <3

warnings: infidelity (i don't condone it yall its just fun to write morally gray characters 🫣)

someone once told you there’s no such thing as bad thoughts – that it’s your actions that truly define you.

you wonder what they’d say if they saw you now: sitting up in bed with your boyfriend sound asleep beside you, staring at your phone with a pounding heart, silently hoping, waiting, for a message from someone else.

you wait and wait, but there’s nothing. your home screen stays empty, mocking you. you glance at your boyfriend. his shallow breathing fills the quiet room, steady and oblivious.

he has no idea you came home at 3 a.m. wearing his teammate’s jacket.

you'd stuffed it in the back of your closet as soon as you got home, a relic of a night that shouldn’t have happened. you'd scrubbed yourself thoroughly in the shower, trying to wash away the smell of jude’s cologne that clung to your skin. but it’s still there. not on your skin anymore, but in your mind, stamped into your memory to stay forever.

the way the flickering lights from the movie theater screen cast shadows on his beautiful face, the fleeting feeling of his warm hands on yours as he handed you his jacket, the full body rumble of his laugh, the feel of his soft lips on yours.

you will never forget. how could you, when that was the first time in months you’d felt seen? desired. wanted. needed. it’s an intoxicating feeling, like stepping into the sunlight after living in the shadows for the longest time.

and now, staring at your phone, you feel it all over again. the pull. the wrongness of it all.

a buzz breaks the silence. your heart jumps into your throat as the screen lights up and a single message appears.

jude: you got home safe?

it’s innocent enough. simple. harmless.

you could ignore it. pretend you didn’t see it. block his number and put an end to whatever this is before it spirals into something else.

but instead, your fingers move on their own accord.

you: yeah. thanks for checking.

you press send before you can stop yourself. you lock your phone and put it on the bedside table before closing your eyes and willing yourself to go to sleep.

to your credit, none of this was planned. it all starts earlier that night. you and your boyfriend are supposed to have a date night, a rare opportunity to spend some alone time together. you pick out a dress he once says is his favorite and make a dinner reservation at his favorite spot.

but plans change quickly.

“babe, the guys just texted,” he says, barely looking up from his phone. “they’re hopping on fifa in a bit. you don’t mind if we raincheck, right?”

you stare at him dumbfounded as he flops down onto the couch.

“raincheck?” your voice trembles, the tears obvious, yet he doesn’t even glance at you.

“yeah. just tonight, we’ll do something soon,” he says dismissively.

it’s not the first time he’s blown you off, but tonight it stings a little more. maybe it’s the fact that he’s so indifferent to you and your feelings, he doesn’t even care to notice the relationship is teetering on the edge of a cliff. he doesn’t realize that you’re making an effort to save it while he’s unknowingly contributing to its unraveling.

you realized it too late, but you know now you’re not a partner to him, not really. you’re a glorified accessory, someone he can show off for external validation, a dependable constant in his life that’s only there to cheer him on and make him look good while he gives his attention and energy to the things he actually cares about: his friends, his family, and above all, his football.

it wasn’t like this in the beginning, but things changed quickly after he made the move to real madrid and became a bigger star. with every goal, every headline, and every paparazzi photo, you sank further into the background of his life.

you linger for a moment, waiting for him to change his mind, to look up and realize what he’s doing. but he doesn’t. so you grab your bag and leave without saying another word.

the cinema isn’t your first choice. you wander the streets for a while, debating whether to call a friend or just head home. but you need a distraction, something that can dispel all the thoughts running through your head. so before you know it, you’re buying a single ticket to whatever is playing next.

the theater is almost empty. it isn’t until you sit down and glance at your ticket that you realize you’re not seeing something new, but a re-release of a classic: Goodfellas.

halfway through the movie, you see a figure slip into a seat a few rows ahead of you. a few moments pass, and you feel a pair of eyes boring into the back of your head. it’s distracting, like an itch. you can't bear to ignore it any longer so you turn your head and look straight at the person. the figure quickly shifts his gaze, pretending to be engrossed in the screen. his features are hidden thanks to the hoodie he’s wearing, but his height and broad shoulders give him away as a man.

you hold your gaze for a second longer, just to make sure he gets the message, before turning back to the screen. but your focus is broken after that.

a few more moments pass and you notice the man stand and make his way out of his row. you let out a quiet breath of relief, assuming he’s leaving. but from the corner of your eye, you see the same figure moving toward your seat. your body stiffens immediately. why is he coming your way? maybe it was a bad idea to come to a nearly empty theater alone so late at night.

you watch as he stops in front of you and slightly crouches to not block the view of the screen.

“y/n?” he asks, voice low yet familiar.

“uh, yeah?” you respond warily.

“thought it was you.” he pulls back his hood, revealing the grinning face of jude bellingham.

a wave of embarrassment immediately washes over you. it’s bad enough that your boyfriend doesn’t love you and prefers to spend time playing video games with his friends, but now you have to run into his teammate of all people while you’re publicly wallowing in your misery—his kind, handsome teammate who always makes you flush whenever you cross paths.

this time is no different. your face grows warm as you stutter, “oh! h-hi, jude.”

you brace for the questions: why are you here alone? where’s your boyfriend? why do you have tear stains on your cheeks?

they don’t come though. instead, he gestures to the seat next to you. “mind if i join you? my seat over there was right under the AC; i was freezing.”

you nod. jude flashes you a smile as he takes a seat.

and then nothing. you watch the rest of the movie silently, the only interaction between you being an elbow nudge from him to offer his pack of candy.

he’s completely engrossed. he laughs silently at certain scenes, and in the more intense ones lets out small gasps. for someone else, it might’ve been annoying, but for you, who’s used to your boyfriend’s indifference to everything, you find his enthusiasm refreshing, maybe even a little endearing.

you spend the rest of the movie mentally going through the list of things you know about him : he's the same age as you (your boyfriend begrudgingly posted a birthday wish on his instagram story once), he can't drive (you see him being picked up by a driver whenever you visit valdebebas), he's genuinely nice (he always says hi when he sees you around, and he's politely held a door open for you once or twice), his spanish isn't the best (you once ran into him hopelessly trying to change his order at the canteen, sheepishly apologizing to the annoyed barista before you helped him out), and your boyfriend quietly holds a dislike for him because he's 'attention seeking' ( you secretly think its not his fault that he's charming and easygoing, that he has everyone he meets wrapped around his finger).

when the movie ends and the lights begin to brighten, he turns to you.

"do you wanna get ice cream?"

you hesitate for a moment.

"yeah. i’d love to," you say finally.

you exit the cinema, and when the fresh outdoor air hits you, you ask the question at the tip of your tongue.

"why and how are you here?"

"could ask the same for you," he grins.

"yeah, but—" you begin, but are immediately silenced by the sight in front of you. jude reaches into the pocket of the jacket he's layered over his hoodie and pulls out a dreadlocked toupee. with the straightest face, he carefully pulls down his hood, places the wig on his head, and adjusts it before pulling the hood back up.

you blink.

"you were saying?" the corners of his mouth twitch at your facial expression. without waiting for a reply, he starts walking, leading you away from the cinema.

you walk in tandem, still giving him a confused look. when you catch sight of his (fake) locs swinging along to the rhythm of his steps, you can’t help it; you burst out laughing.

“what’s so funny?” he turns to you, a mock hurt look on his face. “i’m part jamaican, you know.”

you pause your walking, doubling over and clutching your stomach as you laugh. he stands patiently, looking slightly amused.

after you catch your breath and fully recover, you continue walking.

“so that’s how you go places unnoticed?” you ask, still giggling.

“yup,” he says. “otherwise it’s a nightmare. need a bodyguard and stuff.”

you nod sympathetically as you stroll down the quiet street, the soft glow of streetlights casting long shadows on the concrete. jude walks with an easy confidence, his hands in his pockets while you glance over at him and his toupee every so often.

“so,” he says after a moment, glancing sideways at you, “what’s your excuse? why are you at a late night showing of Goodfellas all by yourself?”

your smile falters slightly. you look straight ahead, debating how much to share.

“just needed to get out of the house,” you say with a light tone.

jude doesn’t push, though the way he hums softly in response tells you he notices your answer is only a half-truth.

"what about you?" you ask.

"I like watching movies," he says simply.

when you give him a somewhat confused look, he pulls out his phone and opens the letterboxd app, showing you the extensive list of movies he's marked as watched. you skim through it and you’re surprised by the diversity. the list is seemingly filled with movies of all genres, from classic films to indie flicks. you didn’t expect this side of him, but somehow it makes sense.

as he enthusiastically explains the list, you can't help but feel endeared by the excited look on his face. you have the overwhelming urge to reach out and smooth over his furrowed brow with your finger. but for the first and only time that night, you don't act on that impulse.

you reach a small gelato stand located on a corner of the street, its neon sign glowing softly. jude steps forward and leans against the counter.

“pick whatever you want,” he says, winking as he passes you the menu.

“don’t mind if i do,” you say, raising an eyebrow. you ignore the way his words make you feel—warm and fluttery, like this is a first date between two single people.

after a moment of deliberation, you pick pistachio and hazelnut, watching as jude leans in to order the same for himself.

“you copying me?”

“nah,” he says with a smirk, passing your cone to you from the server. “just figured you have good taste.”

you wander away from the stand, both of you savoring your ice cream. for a while, you walk in comfortable silence. at one point, he removes the ridiculous wig from his head. it isn’t until you reach a park bench that jude breaks the silence.

"you know," he starts. "i haven’t seen you at a lot of games lately. everything good between you and your boyfriend?"

“‘your boyfriend?’” you tease. “why not call him by his name? you guys have beef or something?”

he stays silent.

you gasp half-jokingly. “oh my god! tell me everything, so i can sell the story to the tabloids.”

he lets out a laugh at that.

“you’re ridiculous,” he says, shaking his head, but there’s a glint of amusement in his eyes.

“c’mon, spill,” you tease, nudging his arm lightly. “is he, like, selfish? does he refuse to pass during games?”

jude chuckles, shaking his head again. “nah, nothing like that. he’s a good player. talented, hardworking… you just start noticing things when you’re around someone all the time, you know?”

he says it carefully, almost hesitantly. you tilt your head at him. “notice things like what?”

he shrugs, his gaze dropping to his melting cone. “like… maybe he doesn’t appreciate what he’s got.”

the words hang in the air between you. you don't know how to respond, so you just gaze down at your own ice cream.

"sorry," jude says quickly. "didn't mean to overstep. i just—forget it."

"no, it's fine," you say quietly. "you're not wrong."

you sit in silence for a few moments. you feel him lean back against the bench, and the next time he speaks, his tone is lighter.

"my dad's coming to visit tomorrow," he says casually, an excited undertone in his voice.

"yeah? that's nice. does he come often?"

"not as much as i'd like," jude admits. "he's got my little brother to worry about in sunderland."

you smile softly. “what do you guys usually do when he visits?”

"usually we grab some food..."

he speaks about his bond with his dad, and also his close relationship with both his brother and mother. soon the conversation moves to childhood memories; jude tells you stories about growing up in birmingham, the football academy there, how he met his best friends at school. in return, you share stories of your own childhood, each one met with genuine curiosity from jude. you laugh, the conversation feeling effortlessly easy and natural.

it isn’t until you pull out your phone and glance at the screen to check the time that reality crashes back in. you have a boyfriend waiting for you at home. a boyfriend who hasn’t called, hasn’t texted, hasn’t even noticed that you’ve walked out of his house.

you lick the last remnants of your ice cream and are just about to crunch into the cone when jude gestures toward your chin. “you’ve got a little…” he says, trailing off as he points.

“oh,” you mumble while jude scans your surroundings for a tissue. finding none, he leans in and gently swipes at the bit of ice cream with his thumb.

“got it,” he murmurs, his touch lingering just a second longer than required.

what happens next can only be described as a a lapse in thinking, or maybe something you've been holding back all night. before your brain can catch up with your actions, you grab his hand and bring his thumb to your lips. you lick the ice cream away, your eyes flicking up to meet his.

jude freezes, his breath catching, his deep brown eyes locking onto yours with an intensity that makes your heart race.

"i—" you start, but whatever explanation you're about to give disappears when jude leans closer, his hand hovering near your face, as if waiting for your permission.

you don’t pull away. you don’t want to.

his lips brush against yours, hesitant at first, testing the waters. when you don’t push him away or move back, when, instead, you lean into him, his kiss deepens. it’s slow and deliberate, like he has all the time in the world to memorize every inch of you.

the ice cream cone in your hand is forgotten, melting onto the pavement as your fingers tangle into his hoodie, pulling him closer. the world fades, leaving just the two of you in your little bubble.

when you finally pull apart, your breaths mingle in the night air and jude’s forehead rests against yours.

“jude…” you whisper, but you don’t know how to finish the sentence.

he pulls back just enough to look at you, his expression serious. “tell me if I’ve crossed a line. i don’t want to make things harder for you.”

your heart flutters at the genuine care in his tone. you shake your head. “no, you didn’t.”

he doesn't keep his lips off you after that.

the next morning, you wake up feeling better than you have in months. there's a lightness in your chest, a warmth that’s been missing for what feels like forever.

you glance at your boyfriend, expecting to feel guilt or remorse. but there’s nothing. no pang of regret, no twist in your stomach. you feel... nothing at all.

you watch him roll out of bed and get ready for training. not a word passes between you as you sit down together in the kitchen to eat breakfast.

“so, what does your day look like today?” you try.

he doesn’t even look up, his attention entirely on his phone, scrolling with one hand while holding his fork with the other.

“i have a meeting at work that’s pretty—“ you start, but he cuts off.

“we’re doing penalty drills,” he mutters without looking up. “need to score more than bellingham so i can wipe that smug smile off his face. did you know he gets paid more than me?”

you just stare at him. you wonder what you even saw in him all those years ago. how had you overlooked the bitterness in his eyes, the envy? how had you missed it all along, his resentment towards anyone who seemed happier, luckier, more successful? his good looking face looks distorted to you now, forever changed to you to reflect the ugliness he holds inside. its as if you’re seeing him for who he really is for the very first time.

your phone buzzes on the table. without even checking, you know who it’s from.

jude: good morning :) sleep well?

you see it for what it is: an invitation to step into dangerous territory, to cross the line once more. a lifeline offering escape from the sinking ship that is your relationship.

you decide to take it.

you type a quick response and set the phone down. your boyfriend is grinning at an instagram reel now, completely absorbed.

you don’t speak to each other for the remainder of breakfast. this time it doesn't bother you at all.

#jude bellingham imagine #jude bellingham x reader #jude bellingham x you #jude bellingham x y/n #jude bellingham fanfic #football fanfic #football imagine

271 notes · View notes

smutoperator · 11 months ago

Text

Luck Inside Her Backdoor

Kim Yoohyeon x Male Reader

Tags: 100% anal, big ass, butt plug, casting couch, facial, gape, glasses, (a lot of) lube, sloppy blowjobs, sugar daddy

Word count: 4223.

Your daughter came with an unusual request. She wanted to attend the concert of a K-pop group. You had never heard of them. Dreamcatcher, apparently. But you decided to be a good father and give her the tickets to the concert. You knew nothing about them but wanted to make your daughter happy, especially following the recent divorce you had with her mother.

At the concert, one of the girls caught your attention. She was quite tall and moved her body perfectly while also performing great interactions with the crowd. "What's her name?" you asked your daughter. "Yoohyeon," she replied.

Indeed, Yoohyeon had hypnotized you, especially her ass. You kinda wanted to impress your daughter and see if you could find a way to meet Dreamcatcher after the concert, but more than this, you wanted to take a closer look at her.

You contacted the managers, who said it wasn't possible; they just weren't going to give you access. But you insisted, using your money and influence to bribe them and get your daughter to have an improvised fan meet with them.

Your daughter was quite happy, taking as many pictures with their idols as she could. But you were even more delighted as you managed to sneak in a message to Yoohyeon. "If you're still in town tomorrow, meet me at this place. Here's my phone number." Yoohyeon was about to throw it out, but she texted you out of curiosity, asking why you would want to meet her in private. "For sex, tell me where your place is, and I'll pick you up," you replied in the next message. "Sure," she agreed.

You left your daughter at school and guided Yoohyeon to your place. It was a cold day, meaning she was wearing a quite long jacket, but her long-sleeved top had all the buttons in place but still showed off her beautiful midriff and elongated navel, while her jeans showcased the great figure of her bottom. She also looked extremely cute with the glasses she had on. Yoohyeon sat on your couch as you approached her, asking her a question. "Are you ready for your audition?"

As soon as Yoohyeon heard those words, she already knew what to do, getting on her knees. She slowly took off her jeans and panties, showcasing her meaty pussy and the butt plug covering her asshole. You already knew her ass was amazing, but it looked even better in full display—truly a packed and stacked bubble butt.

Yoohyeon gave you a little smirk as you started playing with her anal plug using your left hand, removing it, then putting it back in a couple times. Every time her butthole got exposed, you used your tongue to lick it fully. Yoohyeon enjoyed the attention as you focused on her ass before sliding your right hand under her to massage her pussy. "Ah yes," she said in approval.

Having someone willing to be her sugar daddy was something she wasn't expecting. Things looked pretty safe for Yoohyeon as of lately. Her group avoided the seven-year curse, and she had a steady income from sales and touring, but she knew she had to ace today's performance more than any concert to be set for life. She got herself barefoot as you kept playing with the plug in her ass and making her let out some very sexy moans.

You picked up the pace and fucked her a little faster using the plug while placing your free hand at her massive cheeks. You started giving Yoojyeon some hot kisses without looking at her cute face as both of you closed your eyes to enjoy the touching of both your lips better. Between the kisses, you continued to warm up her asshole, pushing the plug in and out of it.

"Let me see that dick," Yoohyeon interrupted you with a naughty request as her eyes brightened under the glass. "You want it now?" you asked. "Yes," she said with a big smile, truly ready to impress her sugar daddy. But you decided to tease her a little, fingering her pussy while still manuvering the plug in her asshole. "Take it yourself," you told her.

Yoohyeon turned around and placed her hands in your belt, taking it off and then unzipping you as she unveiled your cock. It was still flaccid due to the weather, but it definitely had the size. Nothing like some little work couldn't fix it, as Yoohyeon grabbed it hard and inserted it in her warm mouth, prompting a rush of blood from the rest of your body towards your pole.

You started taking your shirt off as Yoohyeon coughed on your dick while taking it deep in her throat for the first time. She managed to warm your cock up so quickly that it wasn't long before your tip was springing out of the foreskin. "Oh fuck, oh shit, god damn it," you murmured as Yoohyeon started her no-hands blowjob that made her gag on it.

As more spit came out of Yoohyeon's mouth, she started to unbutton her jacket and take it off without ever leaving your cock out of her mouth, even with you making it harder on her by pushing her head against your crotch, as she closed her eyes while her forehead landed on your belly. That only made Yoohyeon try harder, as she had now taken her jacket off to the fullest and started loosening up her top's buttons one by one as soon as she gagged on your prick once again, rolling her eyes as her glasses touched the base of your cock.

Yoohyeon pulled out of your cock as soon as she managed to take her top off, with you moving her face close to yours to kiss her sloppy mouth while caressing her beautiful round boobs. You took Yoohyeon's pantyhose off, the last piece of clothing she was wearing, staring at her now fully naked body from top to bottom. It was freezing cold outside, but her body was so hot that you weren't feeling anything. Quite the contrary, as your cock was now fully erected and throbbing for more heat from Yoohyeon's filthy mouth.

As Yoohyeon dove under your cock to suck you off a little more, you placed your right hand right on top of her big ass, closing your eyes as her mouth sucked the shit out of your dick. You fucked her ass with the plug, dreaming of replacing it with your cock the more she gagged on it. You pushed your shaft a little up, reaching all the way down her throat, to make it harder for her, leading Yoohyeon to gulp and almost throw up as you hit her gag reflexes. You two started it all over again, this time with her lasting much longer with it bulging under her throat as she quickly adjusted to your length while also adding some hot massage to your ballsack.

She really knew where to hit the right spots, as Yoohyeon's massage ended up being a massive turn-on to you. And she sensed the same, increasing the speed at which her hands moved around your big balls. "Oh my God," it was all you could say once she finally finished it, moving towards fast dives into your cock and a high-paced blowjob that slowly turned her on as well, making her nipples quite hard in the process.

You pushed Yoohyeon's hair a little to the side to have a better view of her pretty face gagging all over your meat. But it didn't take long until you received a request from her. "I want you to shove this dick deep in my ass," she said. You loved hearing those words. Yoohyeon was ready to take it straight up her butthole and not waste any time in her pussy. She knew she had to go big or go home, and her begging voice clearly indicated it. Today, it was anal or bust.

"You do? Then beg me," you tease her. "Please, daddy, shove it up in my big fat ass; I want you to stretch my asshole out and gape it to the size of the moon." Yoohyeon meant business as she turned around and got on her knees on the couch, her butt now facing you as she licked her tongue. You removed the plug off her anus in one go as Yoohyeon held her left hand into the couch's arm, bracing herself for your big cock fully inside her. You added some lube as her butthole quickly started to clench shortly after the plug's removal.

You shoved your tip on Yoohyeon's backdoor, taking advantage of the lube you placed at her anal entrance, leading her to elicit a few moans. "Oh my God, yes," she approved as your shaft slowly disappeared inside her bunghole. You penetrated it slowly, making sure to take your cock deep inside her cavity from the start. Yoohyeon then starts fingering her pussy to increase the stimulation as you grab her slippery tush with just your right hand.

You give Yoohyeon very deep pumps, with the lube helping you slide all the way in with ease. Running your hands on top of her ass, you keep impaling her with your full length for a decent amount, leading her to scream. "FUCK!" she yells as every inch of your cock is already buried inside her butthole. "Want to take it deep again?" you ask. "AHHHHH YESSSS," she says in sync with your cock ripping her hole apart as you pull out of her.

Yoohyeon closes her eyes as you get ready for yet another deep anal insertion. This time, you go a little faster, making her feel much more of the heat. "Ugh, fuck, give me, give me, give me that cock," she says, her body bouncing at each thurst you give her. You pull out to check her already large gape, spitting straight inside her asshole and pounding her big ass with more speed as soon as you go back inside. "Ohhhh, so fucking deep," she says as her voice starts to crack, squealing as your balls start clapping her round cheeks, rolling her eyes at each pump you give her.

You pour some extra lube on her cheeks and your cock. Yoohyeon's ass jiggled as she felt your meat stretching her cornhole out. You kept putting more lube in her ass and using your hand to spread it out as she panted and moaned with your cock deep inside her butthole, enjoying the massage you were giving her butt. "Put it deep in my asshole; oh fuck, make me cum so much," she said as you started pounding her harder with the lube fully settled in and making her ass shine.

Yoohyeon held her hands against the couch's arm as you railed her, groaning and getting out of breath. "YEAH! YEAH!" she screamed at each pump. She put her ass up and enjoyed your balls smashing her cunt, rolling her eyes while doing so. You started spanking her fat cheeks, showing off who her owner truly was, and printing your hands all over her ass before switching to slower thursts to enjoy your shaft disappearing inside her ass to the fullest while she screamed in submission to your cock and groaned more and more.

"Let me taste that dick," Yoohyeon said as she pulled out. That imposing girl you saw the day before had turned into a submissive whore who would do everything to please her sugar daddy's huge cock. As she dove back into your shaft, you surprised her with some thrusts into her mouth. You weren't even going fast, but she was already spitting all over that dick. You grabbed her by the hair, shoving your cock harder in her mouth as you increased the pace. Yoohyeon was gagging and spitting so hard that your cock had turned into a pudding mess of saliva.

Still catching her breath, Yoohyeon sits on your massive meat and starts riding it, giving you a perfect view of her ass bouncing up and down your cock as she gets impaled. Her spit is more effective than any lube, it turns out. She goes slow, trying to adjust to your length as she puts her feet on your thighs while riding. But as soon as she does that, you pump your cock up Yoohyeon's shithole, challenging her to keep her balance as you mercilessly pound her ass.

"FUCK, IT'S SO HUGE!" Yoohyeon screams as she closes her eyes and grips her feet as hard as she can against your thighs, managing to regain control of the bounce as she finally takes it full length inside her asshole. Yoohyeon pants a lot but wants more, gyrating her hips as she takes it deeper in her anus.

Your cock hitting the whole length of Yoohyeon's butthole makes her moan much harder. You sense the opportunity and start fingering her cunt while she bounces on your manhood. Yoohyeon now spreads her legs as you massage her clit, getting even more passionate as you draw her body closer to you, kissing her while she moves up and down your cock and running your hands all over her fit belly and sexy tits.

"GOD, YES, YES," Yoohyeon felt overwhelmed: your mouth in her lips, your hands now deep in her meaty pussy, just like your cock balls deep in her ass, it was too much for her to handle as she closed her legs and her thighs started to jiggle involuntairly. You took advantage, and shortly after, you resumed pounding her hard. Yoohyeon couldn't decide between staring at the ceiling and closing her eyes or staring at your big cock manhandling her. Your high-intensity pounding had flipped a switch on her, as she started bouncing hard on your dick as if she had something to prove. Well, she kind of did, but at this pace, she had passed your test with ease; everything else was just a bonus now.

"OHHHHHH. UGGGGHHHHH," Yoohyeon lets out a massive scream as you tilt her body slightly and start hammering her. But her next reaction would be even more priceless. "Oh shit," is all she can say when you lift her legs up and lock them with your arms, placing her under a full Nelson as you hit deep in her shitter. Yoohyeon is completely imobilized and gets the perfect view of your cock working inside her bunghole.

"Ahhh, oh my fucking God," is all Yoohyeon manages to say when you free her and now tilt her entire body sideways, closing her legs as you kiss her passionately and keep stretching her out, her pussy gushing at each pounding you give her asshole. "Holy fuck, you're making me cream so hard," she says as she gets fucked with her legs fully up in the air and the perfect view for you to look at her face screaming and crying. "Ahhhh, so so good," she says in an almost muffled manner as you get close to her face to kiss her, grabbing her thighs as you give her a sort of spooning with her legs lifted.

Yoohyeon moans a lot, prompting you to tell her to hush. You spread her legs a little for deeper penetration as you increase the speed of your poundings in her butthole. Yoohyeon fingers herself as her left leg rests on your couch while her right leg is fully up in the air. You go harder and get her out of breath before slowing down to take a pair of deep pumps in her ass.

"Now taste it," you say as you pull out of Yoohyeon's dirty hole and she gets on her feet for the first time in a long while. But that doesn't even last a couple seconds. Like a puppy, Yoohyeon crawls back to your big rod on all fours to suck it dry and taste her shithole, gagging on it, slurping it, and massaging your balls as you run your hands all over her big ass.

"Ready to go back?" you ask her. Yoohyeon doesn't need any words to answer, just her eagerness to jump on that pole and ride it like a cowgirl as she lines it up against her anal entrace once more as you add more lube to her shiny cheeks. Yoohyeon sits on it as she tilts her body down and lets your cock fill her ass up to the fullest while you massage her huge tush that carries half her weight. She starts very slowly, enjoying every time your tip touches the depths of her bunghole. You spread her ass a little for easier penetration, grabbing it to push it up and get longer bounces from her.

"Shit!" Yoohyeon exclaims as you start clapping against her ass again and giving it some spanking. She rests her head on the couch, bracing herself for another round of rough pounding. You get so overconfident that your cock slips out of her hole, but you quickly make up for it, making her cheeks make a noise akin to someone's while riding a horse, as all the lube accumulated around it makes it splash at each pump. And indeed, Yoohyeon was getting mauled by a horse hung all the way deep in her ass at an increased speed.

Drops of Yoohyeon's saliva were still glued to your cock as they created a little string between your cock and her buttcheeks, resisting your hard thursts as you now spanked both her cheeks. Yoohyeon decided to take a bit of control and ride it herself, much to your approval. "Just like that," you told her as Yoohyeon smashed her fat ass against your hips and made your cock disappear between her enormous cheeks.

You pulled out and gaped Yoohyeon's asshole as some fluid came out of her asshole. It was the lube that accumulated inside her after so much pounding; although it looked so much like cum, it felt like you had creampied her when it landed on your skin. "Want another gape?" you asked. "Yeah," she answered while moaning as you slowly removed your cock and spread her cheeks. Her butthole was fully red and wide after such a long and rough fucking.

Yoohyeon put your cock back in and bounced a bit, but soon it would be stopped as you gaped her again, this time placing your middle finger at the edges of her anus and spreading it out. But Yoohyeon wanted something different. "Stop teasing me and fuck my ass," she says as you insert your cock back in her and give her a hard pounding while beating her buttcheeks like a drum.

Yoohyeon then decided to place her feet on the couch to give your meat another ride, bouncing her fat ass so hard that your impalment eventually hurt her, leading you to lift her ass up in the air and regain control of the pounding, showing no mercy for her now sore asshole. Yoohyeon tries to stay strong as you tear her ass apart, howling and screaming like a puppy. Her cheeks are fully red, she groans and moans like never before, and the couch trembles at each pounding you give her. "AHHHHHHHHHH," she screams hard as you continue to impale her nonstop.

"Yes, baby, I love that dick in my ass. I love it," Yoohyeon says. "Then show it," you tell her, pulling out for her to taste it once more as you dunk her head on your cock. "Gag on it, bitch," you demand as she also spits on it, and you impale her mouth like it's her dirty asshole. Yoohyeon can barely breathe, but you don't care and push her to the limit, giving her a congratulatory kiss shortly after.

"Get on all fours like a good puppy," you tell her. An extra lube and your cock slide inside Yoohyeon's gaped butthole with little resistance, going deep inside her in the first thrust. Her wet cunt taints your couch, but you couldn't care less; you just wanted to admire her stretched hole, taking your cock in and out of it to the fullest multiple times. "Ahhhh, stretch my asshole," Yoohyeon begs as you keep playing with it and watch her cunt drip.

In, out, in, out. You keep doing it, now a little faster, until Yoohyeon spreads her cheeks just enough for you to pound her to the fullest. "AHHHHHHH. AHHHHHH," she screams with her eyes closed as you top her and ram her like a dog. She cries a bit as you spank her ass and clap her cheeks hard. "OHHHHH FUCK FUCK," she keeps begging. Your couch now creaks at each pump you give inside Yoohyeon's used-up asshole as you take her balls deep. "Good puppy," you tell her after you slow down. She can only look at you with begging eyes as you dominate her.

"You're gonna make me fucking cum so hard," Yoohyeon says as Squirt keeps gushing out of her vagina. Her impending orgasm leads to pleasurable pain for her as her already sore anal walls get even more sensitive, and she keeps barking and howling. "Then let me see it," you tell her.

You order Yoohyeon to put her back on the couch and face you, giving her a missionary fucking. Her legs tremble as she starts cumming while you fuck her ass, enjoying an amazing orgasm that only gets better after each thrust. Even your cock now is a little bent over after such long wear and tear up her butthole. "Jeez," Yoohyeon says as she continues to orgasm and you continue to fuck her.

Yoohyeon spreads her anus and shows you her massive gape once more. She's so stretched out now that even your balls can enter her anus while barely forcing them in. She's just your slutty puppy, your begging sugar baby, and your anal gloryhole. "Stretch my ass," she says as you place your thumb in her mouth. One extra layer of lube to grant her wish, and you're back inside her worn-out pooper. You grab her legs to allow you to increase your pace. Yoohyeon feels it as just a couple of faster thrusts have already sent her over the moon. "Oh fuck," is all she can say; her tits now jiggle as you go rougher on her, putting your hands between them. The couch continues to creak, now harder than ever as she can barely say any words now with your cock hammering her like a sex toy. Now her whole body trembles just as you give her a rest and switch to a slow-paced fucking of her lube-filled shitter.

But your mercy only lasts a few seconds as you rub Yoohyeon's dripping cunt, searching for more squirt, sensing she's still aching inside her holes. "D-d-daddy," she says with her grinding teeth, in a way you can barely hear it. She keeps squealing and moaning as she feels weaker than ever and can barely feel her legs. Your dominance over her is almost complete; you just need one item to cross off your sugar baby's checklist.

Yoohyeon closes her eyes and opens her mouth. You keep pumping her deep. She seems to be waiting for something. It doesn't take you long to find out. "May I have your cum, please?" she asks. "You want it? you reply. "I want your cum. I want it so fucking bad; please, please, give me your cum," she continues. You increase the pace of fucking her asshole, getting ready to finish inside it and crown your work of art, pushing Yoohyeon's body hard against the couch's arm, but she has different plans.

"I want your cum all over my fucking face. Hit my face with your fucking cum; cover my glass. Please, please, cum on my face; I want to taste it. Please, I want your cum. Please, please, please," Yoohyeon starts to beg. You answer her as she gets on her knees, and you start jerking your cock off before she takes control and does it herself, sucking it and getting it ready to burst. "You want that cum? Work for it!" you tease her. "Yes, I want your fucking cum," she says. "Oh, keep going," you tell her as she gets you on the edge and close to finishing.

"Oh fuck, I wanna cum." It doesn't take long for you to say those words. After an extra jerkoff from Yoohyeon, you cover her nose and her glasses full of jizz, eratically shooting to a point where some of it lands on her collarbone. A very pleased Yoohyeon sucks your cock, and now your legs are the ones that tremble. Then she takes her glasses off to lick and swallow the cum that got stuck in there, later scooping what was in her face and sending it straight to her needy mouth.

Yoohyeon keeps sucking your cock, still hard, even after she drained your balls. "Can I be your sugar baby now?" she asked. "You didn't even need to ask," you tell her. As she keeps jerking you off and you guys start thinking of your future plans, she hears some noise coming out of the door.

"I think someone is entering the house," Yoohyeon says. "Let's get out of here."

It was your daughter.

#yoohyeon smut #dreamcatcher smut #female idol smut #girl group smut #kpop smut #male reader smut

838 notes · View notes

4milly · 14 days ago

Note

girl u are FREKAYYYYY. what's life like with bd!zilla? 🙄🙄🙄🙄

i really do imagine he's the type to be so nonchalant about shit tbh. like when you two decided to co-parent your 3 year old son, from that day forth zilla's always put on this act that he never cared about shit you did. you both were single.

nothing new. he did the in the relationship. act like nothing ever mattered. you'd do things to spite him to atleast see if he cared. like doing your hair a different way when you'd drop your son off, wearing a dress too short and posting it to the gram, even sending him thirst traps on "accident".

only to get a dry ass response. barely even that, sometimes he’d just heart the message and move on.

but nothing ever seemed to phase him. you'd catch glimpses sometimes - a fleeting look in his eyes when he thought you weren't paying attention, the way his jaw would tighten ever so slightly when another man's name came up. but he'd always brush it off, act like it was nothing.

one day, you decided to really push it. you showed up to drop off your son wearing that slinky red dress he always loved, the one that hugged every curve. you made sure your makeup was flawless, your hair perfectly curled. as you handed over your giggling toddler, you casually mentioned the date you had lined up for that night.

little did he know, you didn't even have one. you purposely did all this shit so his blood pressure would raise.

for a split second, you saw it - that flash of jealousy, that hint of possessiveness in his dark eyes. but just as quickly, it was gone, replaced by his usual cool indifference. "have fun, babygirl," he said with a wink before focusing on your son

"mama, look pretty?" your son said gleaming towards you

"she does, buddy. so very pretty." he simply stated giving you a once over, stopping at your cleavage.

you felt a shiver run down your spine at his words, at the way his eyes lingered on your body. for a moment, you forgot to breathe. then you caught yourself, plastering on a coy smile. "thanks," you said breezily, "i'm sure my date will think so too."

as you turned to head back to your car , you could feel zilla's eyes on you, burning into your back. you put an extra sway in your hips, knowing exactly how that dress moved when you walked. you heard your son's laughter fade as the door closed behind you.

later that night, after your mediocre date with some guy whose name you could barely remember, you found yourself scrolling through your phone in the bathroom. your thumb hovered over zilla's contact. before you could stop yourself, you fired off a text: "date was a bust. heading home early."

you stared at your phone, waiting for his reply. the minutes that went by were agonizing. just as you were about to toss your phone in your purse, it buzzed.

u wanna come over, mama?

you knew this was a bad idea. you only wanted to spite him — show him you still had it and what he lost. but...damn, you'd be lying if you said you didn't crave to feel that long, girth, samoan dick working inside you, and those hands using your hips bouncing you like a bitch in heat, just like an addict craves their next fix. nonetheless, you responded anyways: be there in 15.

the ride to his place felt endless. second-guessing your decision with every passing streetlight. but when you knocked on the door and saw him standing in the doorway, all doubts vanished. He looked good - too good. his white tank top clung to his muscular frame, and his sweatpants hung low on his hips.

"hey, mama," he said, his voice a low rumble that sent shivers down your spine. "come in."

you stepped inside, the familiar scent of his cologne washing over you. the living room was dimly lit. as you stepped inside, the familiar scent of his cologne washing over you, you felt a surge of electricity in the air. the living room was dimly lit, casting long shadows across the walls. soft music played in the background - was that the playlist you used to make love to? baby making music as they say.

zilla closed the door behind you, his presence looming large. you could feel the heat radiating off his body as he moved closer, his scent suffocating you. "you want sum' to drink?" he asked, his voice husky.

you nodded, not trusting yourself to speak. as he walked to the kitchen, your eyes followed the broad expanse of his back, remembering how it felt to dig your nails into those muscles.

He returned with two glasses of red wine - your favorite. As he handed you yours, his fingers brushed against yours, lingering just a moment too long. you took a sip, the rich flavor exploding on your tongue.

you closed your eyes for a brief moment as you glanced over the room, "so where is our little guy?" desperate to break the silence.

zilla almost didn't hear the question, to occupied in looking at your ass in the dress.

"zilla?" you said more firmly to bring his attention back towards you

"my bad, mama. we watched that paw patrol shit he like and he crashed out not too long ago," he responded before taking a sip of his wine "you look good as fuck, y'know that?"

you felt a flush creep up your neck at his words. "thanks," you murmured, taking another sip of wine to steady your nerves.

zilla moved closer, his eyes roaming over you hungrily. "you r'member first time you wore it?" his voice was low, tinged with desire. "that night at the club, when I couldn't keep my hands off you. had to take yo ass home right then."

you nodded, memories flooding back. the way he'd pressed you against the wall as soon as you got through the door, his hands sliding up your thighs, pushing the dress higher, pushing his hand into your panties.

before you could respond, zilla closed the distance between you, his large hand cupping your face. "lemme r'mind you," he growled, before crashing his lips against yours. the kiss was hungry, desperate, filled with years of pent-up longing.

in one fluid motion, he lifted you up, your legs instinctively wrapping around his waist. he carried you to the wall, pressing you against it as his lips trailed hot kisses down your neck. your head fell back, a soft moans escaping your lips.

"god, you so fuckin' pretty," he murmured against your skin, his hands roaming your body, reacquainting themselves with every curve. he hitched your dress up higher, his fingers tracing the edge of your lace panties. "these in the way, mama."

with a swift movement, he pushed your panties to the side exposing your wet core, "shit, i missed this pussy. she missed daddy, baby?"

zilla's fingers were replaced by his hard length, rubbing against you. you didn't remember when he got the time to take his dick out his pants, but thank the stars above. you finally were about to get what you've nearly been wishing for and more, "fuck me, zilla. i missed you so much."

he slid into you, filling you up in one long stroke. your eyes rolled back as your body stretched to accommodate him. it had been too long since you'd felt him this way, inside you, claiming you as his own. the way his dick filled you perfectly made your mind go numb. you wrapped an arm around his neck bringing his lips to your owns. you let out a strangled whine as began to stroke, your pussy still getting used to the filling of being so full again.

he started moving slowly, dragging his hips back until you were nearly empty before filling you back up letting you adjust, and repeating the process until the coarse hair at the base of his cock tickled your clit.

"zilla!" you yelped as a particular thrust made him swipe over that special spot inside of you

"shh, shh don't wake him up, mama." he replied throwing a hand over your mouth to keep you moans at bay — careful not to wake your sleeping boy down the hall. "so fuckin' pretty just taking all this dick. I should nut all up in yo pretty ass.”

your moans and screams were muffled into zilla's hand. your eyes rolling towards the back of your head. you were in complete bliss right now. zilla's hips moved with a primal rhythm, each thrust driving you higher up the wall. your dress bunched around your waist, the silky fabric sliding against your skin with every movement. your panties, pushed hastily to the side, were soaked with your arousal — same as the floor beneath you. zilla's thickness stretched and filled you completely, your walls clenching around him, trying to draw him even deeper.

"that's it, mama," he panted, his hips pounding you against the wall. "take this dick. show me how much you missed it."

you arched your back, pressing your chest against his as you sought more friction. zilla's free hand slid down to grip your ass, kneading the flesh as he lifted you slightly, changing the angle. the new position had him hitting your g-spot with every stroke, and you saw stars behind your closed eyelids. you wrapped your legs tighter around his waist, your heels digging into his lower back, urging him on. your nails raked down his muscular back, leaving small rips in his tank top. zilla dipped his head, trailing hot kisses along your collarbone and down to the swell of your breasts.

your breath hitched as your belly started to tighten around his dick. zilla let out a quiet menacing chuckle into your ear, "wassup baby? you wanna cum? keep wettin' this dick up. make that shit spit fa me."

tears pricked your eyes as you shut them tightly. the pressure built up in your stomach and cum dripped down your legs — unable to store all of it in your pussy with his dick pummeling inside of you. zilla groaned, feeling your walls clench around him. "that's it, baby," he praised, his movements becoming erratic as he chased his own release. "fuck, I'm gonna cum. want me to fill you up, mama?"

your eyes were crossed and your head was spent, only focusing on the feeling of cumming all over him and the pleasure radiating through your body.

he let out a groan as he released every drop of his cum into you without thinking twice. his hips stuttering as he followed you over the edge. he gripped your ass, his hips bucking upwards, emptying ropes of his cum deep inside of you—filling you to the brim with his seed. some of it running down his dick, to his legs, and onto the floor. It felt too good to pull out and he wasn’t going to.

as you both came down from your high, zilla slowly removed his hand from your mouth, replacing it with a tender kiss on your bottom lip as you continued to shake and twitch in his arms. the feeling of his warm cum so deep inside you, triggering another mini orgasm. your body continued to convulse as every nerve ending in your body exploded, "yo ass happy you finally got some dick?"

❦:

@caramelcleopatraa @harmshake @msbigredmachine @luvrsluxe @uceyliyahh @angiedawn02 @amandairene88 @cyberdejos2 @queeny23 @empressdede @trentybenty @heauxvibez @whatdoeseverybodywant @shes2real @romansthrone @acknowledge-reigns @southerngirl41 @prettyfilmz @jaza23

don’t forget to like and reblog! <3 drop a comment also! i love reading those. xoxo, cleo.

(think i might make this a series tbh.)

153 notes · View notes

sugurugetoshairbrush · 1 month ago

Note

Stoner suguru makes me absolutely feral :3

girl me too, this one’s for you xo [prev] [next]

tl;dr rolling up for stoner!suguru getou

the past few months have been infinitely more enjoyable thanks to your special arrangement with suguru. you call it that because neither of you has dared to define whatever it is you share. all you know is suguru is fine as hell, laid back, and always pulls up to smoke without expecting anything in return. every time you link up, you bring your smallest purse, holding just a few dollars and a couple of lip glosses. sometimes, you forget to bring a purse altogether—what can you say? you’re just a girl. at least, that’s how suguru makes you feel. he never lets you lift a finger and constantly checks to ensure you’re comfortable.

it’s magnetic, really. in the smoky confines of his car, you often find yourself mesmerized by him. more often than not, you end up in lap.

it’s a welcome escape from your otherwise stressful life. you met suguru at a uni party—both part-time students. now that you’re close, you’ve learned he’s majoring in business, pursuing a degree to aid his ventures as co-owner of a cannabis greenhouse. outside of school, you work at a corporate office—a job you loathe. it pays well, but everything about it—the people, the monotony—is soul-crushing. your time with suguru is the kind of thrill you’ve been craving.

which is why you’re sick to your stomach when suguru tells you he’ll be tied up with greenhouse business for a couple weeks. he’s got back-to-back meetings lined up with shoko and their team about new prospects. of course, you tell him it’s no problem, but you’d grown used to seeing him. the last time you hung out, he made you promise to take a t-break until you see each other again.

“it’s not just about building tolerance,” he’d said, smirking. “it builds anticipation. trust me, it’ll hit so good next time.”

two slow weeks crawl by before he finally texts on a friday night. you’re in the middle of your self-care routine—sage burning, fresh out of a steamy shower, a face mask drying, and trashy reality show playing in the background—when your phone buzzes.

sugu 🔌

you giggle at his contact name, your dried face mask preventing a full smile. you unlock your phone to read:

hey, I’m free again. ik it’s been a while. wanna come over tmr? I’ll smoke u out ofc

you stare at the screen, giddy. just as you’re about to lock your phone, another message pops up:

missed u

your stomach flips. quickly, you set the phone down and rush to rinse off your mask before you send something completely unhinged. when you finally respond, you simply heart the “missed u” message and agree to come over. he tells you he’s planning to sleep in and hit the gym tomorrow, so he’ll pick you up at six. as always, you offer to pitch in for the bud, and, as always, he responds with a simple:

no need.

sure enough, suguru pulls up the next day at six on the dot. for someone who calls himself a stoner, he’s ridiculously punctual. his bass thumps outside as your phone lights up again:

sugu 🔌

I’m here. hop in

you glance in the mirror one last time. playing it safe, you’ve gone for grey leggings, a white tee, and cropped sweatshirt. your curls are extra juicy from yesterday’s wash day, and your lips glisten with an overabundance of gloss—you already know he’ll make you take it off later.

hopping into his car, you eagerly take him in. the fading sunlight casts soft shadows on his face. his dark hair is in a high, loose bun, a few strands sticking to his cheek. he’s swapped his usual silver studs for black diamonds that twinkle in the low light. he’s wearing a black adidas tracksuit, unzipped revealing a hint of the white tee beneath. and, as always, he smells incredible.

you think he greets you with a “hey,” but you’re already leaning over to press a glossy kiss to his cheek. “hi,” you say, voice soft.

a faint blush spreads across his tanned skin, and he touches his cheek, smirking as he rubs off the residue.

“eager, huh?”

feigning innocence, you tilt your head. “what? I’m just happy to see my plug. you left me high and dry.”

his smirk falters. “am I really just the plug to you? I bring so much more to the table.”

you laugh, caught off guard by the sudden sincerity. “so bring it,” you tease, gesturing at him. “I’m not stopping you.”

he chuckles, resting a hand on your thigh as he starts the car. “I’m holding you to that. you look good, by the way… as always.”

the drive to his place doesn’t take long—ten, maybe twenty minutes. unlike you, suguru lives in the heart of the city. as you near his building, the streets get busier, lined with sleek modern apartments and flashy cars.

he parks expertly, flexing his arm as he reaches over your seat. you pointedly avoid watching, focusing elsewhere as he cuts off the engine and steps out. once you’re both out of the car, he guides you by the waist toward the entrance.

on the stoop, a couple of older men sit chatting. one, is absolutely shredded, with a cigarette hanging from his lips, sporting a scar cutting through his mouth’s corner. the other, slimmer with a faint mustache, sips a beer.

“yo, nephew!” the scarred man calls out as you approach.

suguru’s arm tightens around your waist before he pulls away to dap him up. “what’s up, toji?” he nods to the other man.

“same old. baby mama’s on my ass again.” toji sighs dramatically before adding, “actually, can you text her for me? I’m blocked—again. just wanna see my kid. promise it’s the last time.”

suguru groans, kicking at the doormat. “whatever, toji. remind me later.”

with that, he steers you inside, his hand finding its place on your waist again.

you spend the elevator ride up to suguru’s apartment cracking up over his deadbeat neighbor. suguru keeps shaking his head, muttering about how he has to move out because everyone in the building is a headache. you try to rub his back soothingly, but your laughter keeps betraying you—his kid’s probably better off away from him.

once inside, you’re struck by how spacious and well-kept the apartment is. it’s a two-bedroom, two-bath, the vibe is homey yet modern. sleek black furniture contrasts with a soft gray couch, and various plants are scattered throughout, adding a touch of warmth. it’s impressively clean, especially for a guy’s place. suguru heads to a drawer, pulling out a lighter, while you settle onto the couch. he lights a stick of incense sitting on the coffee table, the scent quickly filling the air.

the two of you visibly relax as the calming aroma spreads. you ask suguru about his week, and he leans back, stretching his arms lazily across the back of the couch. he starts telling you about a new strain he’s been developing with his roommate, gojo—whom he’s mentioned before and who, apparently, is a cannabis breeder and geneticist. they’re working on a sativa strain with a thirty percent thc level, aiming to create something both calming and invigorating. suguru’s eyes light up as he explains the process, even describing how they’re infusing the strain with a sweet blueberry flavor.

in the middle of his explanation, suguru gets up, rummaging through the fridge before returning with a plate of shortcake.

“speaking of—something sweet for a sweet thing like you.”

you wrinkle up your nose, “you’re better than that suguru.”

he laughs, placing the plate on the armrest, and in one swift motion, he pulls you onto his lap. you gasp, caught off guard by the sudden move.

“don’t tell me you’re shy now,” he murmurs, amusement lacing his tone.

you playfully swat his arm but adjust yourself, leaning against the armrest while your legs drape across his lap. suguru reaches into his pocket, pulling out a zip, then grabs a matching sage-green rolling tray and grinder from the coffee table.

“I’m thinking four blunts to start off,” he says.

you place a hand over his. “suguru, let me roll. it’s the least I can do.”

he sighs, brushing his bangs back. “alright, but I’m watching closely,” he says, gesturing toward your freshly done acrylics.

confident, you start grinding an eighth. he puts on some soft r&b, the mellow tunes filling the space, and even feeds you bites of shortcake while you work. you hum in delight.

“’s really good,” you mumble between bites.

you crinkle up the black raw paper, carefully line up the bud and begin rolling, suguru clears his throat, shooting you a critical look.

“something wrong?” you ask, feigning innocence.

“it’s tight enough, but you didn’t pack nearly enough. looks malnourished.”

you groan, unraveling it. suguru leans in, guiding your hands as he sprinkles more weed into the paper. his fingers linger, wrapping around yours to ensure a perfect roll.

once finished, you run a lighter along the seam, sealing it tightly. suguru ruffles your hair, whistling in approval.

“much better—such a fast learner.”

rolling your eyes, you shove a big forkful of shortcake into his mouth. “think I like you better when you don’t talk.”

the two of you make quick work of the rest of the blunts. you light the first one, taking a long, satisfying hit before passing it to suguru. ever the showoff, he ghosts the smoke, exhaling thick clouds with practiced ease. on his third exhale, he casually pulls the tie from his bun, letting his hair cascade over his shoulders. you shift slightly on his lap, trying to play it cool.

suguru notices but doesn’t comment, smirking as he passes the blunt back. after a few more passes, you’re both sunk deep into the couch, heavy and relaxed. the conversation meanders, jumping from complaining about uptight professors to fantasizing about post-grad travel plans.

somehow, australia comes up, and before long, the topic spirals into an absurd yet passionate debate over whether suguru could take a kangaroo in a fistfight.

“I’m telling you, sugu, they’ve got hands! they’d body you.”

suguru chuckles, grabbing your hand and pressing it to his bicep as he flexes. “please—these arms could easily drop a kangaroo, I’d sneak it”

you laugh. “If you wanted me to feel you up, just say that.”

he’s about to respond when his phone vibrates. his amused expression darkens as he reads the messages.

toji (neighbor/nuisance)

wsg neph dnt forget to hit up my bm I owe ya btw I peeped tht pretty thing u brought home I’d hit it

suguru’s jaw clenches, and he tosses the phone aside with a scowl. “he’s such a dick.”

you place a hand on his thigh, trying to bring him back to the relaxed vibe. “forget him. he’d never get the chance.”

you lower your voice jutting your lips into a pout, “he’s lucky you entertain him at all… wish you’d entertain me instead.”

your fingers trail through his hair, and his mood shifts. his eyes meet yours, dark and heavy-lidded. he hums, leaning closer. his hand slides up your thigh as he presses a soft kiss to your neck. the gentle kiss quickly turns into something more intense—lips, teeth, and tongue working together to leave a mark.

you’re just starting to lose yourself in the warm sensation when the door bursts open.

“‘m back, roomieee! ya miss me?!”

you freeze as a tall figure with white hair strides into view. this must be the aforementioned gojo. he leans over the couch, blue eyes wide—grinning like he’s caught you in the act.

“having fun, aren’t we?”

suguru groans, resting his forehead on your shoulder. unsure of what else to do, you start introducing yourself, but gojo waves you off.

“no need. lover boy here talks about you all the time.”

“easy,” suguru warns.

gojo’s eyes sparkle mischievously. “shortcake good? made it myself.”

“it was amazing,” you admit, and his grin widens.

suguru cuts in. “gojo, what do you want?”

gojo pulls out a bag of bright blue nerds rope edibles, his eyes gleaming. “wanna trip?”

fuck it, let’s see where the night takes us. you nod. “I’m down. suguru?”

he shrugs, plucking the bag from gojo’s hand. “product testing.”

you each take a piece, the sugary sweetness masking any trace of weed. as suguru lights another blunt, gojo squats in front of the tv, powering on the nintendo switch. he glances over his shoulder, a lopsided grin spreading across his face.

“mario kart?” he offers, but it’s less a question and more an expectation.

you slide off suguru’s lap to grab two controllers, giggling when he swats at your ass on the way. He exhales a slow puff of smoke, smirking.

“gotta warn you,” he says lazily. “gojo gets super competitive. we’re talking bets, wagers, and he’s got a tendency to rage-quit.”

you snatch the blunt from his fingers, sticking out your tongue. “think I can match that energy.”

it doesn’t take long for the edibles to kick in. soon, you’re blissfully hazy, six races deep into the game. gojo’s antics—hoarding red shells, dropping banana peels right at the finish line, and pausing the game at the worst possible moments—have all of you shouting over each other.

somewhere around the seventh race, your high starts to pull your focus to the vivid chaos of rainbow road. neon colors blur together, mesmerizing you, and before you know it, you’re in dead last. meanwhile, gojo and suguru are locked in a heated argument over whether using bullet bill counts as cheating.

by the eighth race, suguru overtakes gojo, and without a hint of remorse, gojo slams the pause button. “fuckin’, cheating prick,” he mutters before quitting the game entirely.

suguru stares at the blank screen in disbelief. “seriously?”

without missing a beat, gojo powers off the switch and saunters toward the kitchen. “just got bored,” he calls over his shoulder, casually opening cabinet doors and leaving them ajar. “anyway, just remembered I’ve been craving those candied grapes I keep seeing on my timeline.”

you stand, stretching your legs, about to offer help when suguru grabs your wrist and tugs you toward his room, muttering something about giving you the “full tour.”

before you can say a word, gojo waves a hand without even looking up. “don’t forget to use protection!”

suguru groans, slapping a hand over your ears as he steers you away.

“god, shut up, satoru.”

suguru’s room is just as you’d expect—simple, cozy, and meticulously organized. the black bedspread and pillows match the two chairs and the sleek vanity along the wall. white walls, otherwise bare, are adorned with a single collage of photos beside the vanity. some are easy to pick out: suguru and gojo over the years.

suguru flips a switch, and the room bathes in soft purple light. you sit at the edge of his bed, watching as he stretches his arms overhead, a yawn escaping his lips. he unzips his jacket, tossing it over a chair, and settles against the headboard. you pick at your fingernails, a nervous habit, until a pillow hits your back.

“don’t do that,” he says softly. “c’mere.”

for the second time tonight, you crawl onto his lap. his hands find your thighs, gripping firmly.

“one more?” he murmurs, fishing a blunt from his pocket—another one from earlier. you toy with the hem of his shirt.

“I’m tapping out,” you reply, shaking your head. “that’s all you.”

he smirks, placing the blunt between his lips, and reaches for a lighter on the bedside table. with a mischievous glint in his eyes, he hands it to you. “light it for me?”

you flick the lighter once—twice—before the flame steadies. leaning in, you carefully burn the tip of the blunt. his hands slide up to your hips, settling on your waist as he inhales deeply, the paper crackling and glowing red. smoke billows from his lips, and he blows it over your face, making you hyperaware of the solid warmth of his body beneath you.

suguru lifts your chin with a gentle touch, his half-lidded gaze locking onto yours. “I don’t know what’s more addicting—you or this high.”

your fingers trace the curve of his lips. “yeah?” you whisper, bringing the blunt back to him.

he nods, maintaining eye contact as he exhales a lazy cloud of smoke. he takes the blunt from your hand, continuing to take slow, deliberate hits. meanwhile, your hands roam. a manicured nail glides over his brow, down his cheek, along his sharp jaw.

“you’re so handsome,” you say, almost dreamlike. “don’t know how I went two weeks without you. couldn’t stop thinking about you.”

suguru’s lips twitch into a small smile. “yeah?”

“mhm.”

the air between you feels electric. he exhales another smoky stream, and you lean in, pressing your lips to the soft skin of his neck. you bite down gently, earning a low groan, then soothe the mark with your tongue. his hands explore, slipping beneath your sweatshirt, skimming the skin under your shirt. the cloudy air thickens in the room as you trail kisses along his neck, messy and wet.

his voice is husky, laden with desire. “feels good.”

your hands wander further, brushing beneath his fitted tee. along his chest, your fingers graze something cool and smooth, he tenses.

“fuck,” he mutters.

realizing it’s a piercing, you tease it with your fingertips, watching his reaction. you giggle, bringing his hand to cup your own chest, brushing over a similar bump beneath your shirt.

“we’re matching,” you say with a smirk, he tugs gently at your piercing. the sensation sends a jolt through you, and you grind down against him instinctively.

“shit,” he breathes, gripping your hips as he meets your rhythm, slow and intoxicating. his lips, plump and slightly parted, draw your attention.

“suguru,” you whisper.

“hm?”

“kiss me.”

he doesn’t hesitate. his lips meet yours softly at first, then quickly deepen with urgency. each kiss hungrier than the last. his teeth catch your bottom lip, tugging roughly, sending a shiver down your spine. your breaths come in heavy, ragged pants, the air between you growing hotter, stickier, charged with every second that passes.

“YEEOW!”

the moment shatters with a high-pitched yelp and a loud crash from the kitchen, followed by the clatter of pots and pans.

both of you freeze, processing the interruption.

“FUCK!” gojo’s unmistakable voice echoes through the apartment.

suguru buries his face in his hands, groaning. “no. fucking. way.”

you scramble off suguru, your heart pounding for entirely different reasons now, and rush to the kitchen. gojo is sprawled on the floor, clutching his head amid an array of toppled pots and pans.

“oh my god, gojo! are you okay?” you ask, crouching beside him.

he winces, his cheeks flushed as he avoids your gaze. “yeah… sorry. slipped on a squished strawberry. decided to candy all the fruit in the fridge. way too ambitious.”

you glance at the counter: sugar everywhere, an empty box of strawberries leaking juice, and a pan of candied grapes slowly dripping onto the floor. gojo props himself up on his elbows, surveying the chaos with wide eyes.

“damn,” he mutters. “didn’t realize how messy I got.”

you help him to his feet, brushing sugar off his clothes. suguru appears in the doorway, flushed and disheveled, clutching a pillow to his front.

“wish I could help, satoru,” he deadpans. “but I’ve got a situation.” he gestures vaguely at himself.

“also, I want to strangle you.”

gojo raises his hands defensively. “spare me, please!” he turns to you, “scaary.”

he smirks, whispering “look out for suguru’s choking kink.”

suguru’s expression darkens. “I’m going to kill you.”

unable to resist, you squat back down and pop a candied grape into your mouth, savoring the sugary burst of flavor. at least something good came out of this chaos. gojo joins you, stealing a grape and offering one to you in return.

suguru sighs, running a hand through his hair. “I really need to get my own place.”

#getou suguru x reader #geto x reader #geto suguru #jjk geto #jjk #jjk au #jjk smau #jjk crack #jjk aesthetic #jjk x fem!reader #jjk x black!fem reader #gojo satoru #gojo satoru x geto suguru #as roomates #toji fushiguro #sorry I made him a bum #jjk smut #maybe lol #tw cannabis

289 notes · View notes

martinluvrr · 7 months ago

Text

NUMBER ONE | KATE MARTIN ( III )

⋅˚₊‧ kate martin x actress!reader

⋅˚₊‧ summary: here we are again, just like the beginning.

⋅˚₊‧ part two || final part || nav

"Cut, thank you everybody" the director yelled out. You let out a sigh of relief, finally this dreadful week was over and you had some free time. After the chaotic start of the week that was caused by literally a media circus, you knew that this was going to be a tough 7 days.

Sometimes, you wished you didn't go to that audition. Of course you were grateful, this was a life people would kill for, but with the good side came the brutal one. After the picture and the allegations came out, your publicist went nuts, she wen even more nuts when you said to her "I don't want to respond". Apparently not responding, is responding, and while she tried many times to convince you, you didn't budge.

Deuxmoi. Fucking deuxmoi.

While you contemplated if you should send hate messages to the site with your finsta ( your publicist somehow found out and made you promise not to ), Kate was the calm during the storm.

The night of the game, she had texted you in regards of the plans, and you sadly rain checked. While you though she would stop texting after that, she didn't, and neither did you. Her name was still saved as 6 years ago, back then , you didn't have the strength to delete it, just in case.

While the comments, the sly remarks, the articles, the posts made the time draining, Kate was your fuel. She was literally recharging you, it seemed like you guys were back like you were once, but still you didn't want to get your hopes up.

"Bye darlin'" a british accent pulled you out of your thoughts, Emma, your co star smiled sweetly at you from your dressing room doorway. You smiled at her and said your goodbyes as well. While the media was raging, the cast and crew made the week peaceful for you, what was a week ago, a funny, teasing, loud cast turned into a supportive, calm, quiet one. And of course, you knew why. You have been shooting with this people for the past 2 years, and whether you liked it or not, they knew you. and when Matt saw your face on Tuesday, news and threats spread around if anyone asked anything regarding the incident. Y/n absolutely adored them.

As you walked out of the set studio, only two things were on your mind, your bed and chinese food. When opening the door, you looked up and went to a halt. There she stood, blonde, 5'11, in an all black fit an aces hoodie on, and her car behind her. In all her glory.

"What the hell are you doing here?" You asked, your mouth hanging open. She stood straight ,a wide grin forming on her.

"you owe me a date"

"you can't be serious" you let out a laugh.

"dead ass. get in" she gestured to her car, while opening the passenger door. You still remained in your previous positions, your body frozen,like it couldn't believe she was actually here.

"Kate"

"Y/n" she replied back " what's the problem?"

"Are you sure you want this...again?" you asked, suddenly looking at the ground, your insecurity was showing. You still didn't know if you and Kate were happening again, and you knew that if you lost her again, you couldn't survive that.

"Never been more sure in my life" She replied sweetly "Now get in"

"But i look like Adam Sandler" you said, an embarrasing smile on your face .

"I don't care, now please stop making excuses and get in the car" Kate said. You sighed as you made your way to her car, before placing a kiss on her cheek and getting in.

The way to your blind destination, that you begged Kate to tell you, but immune to your charm , she didn't give a single hint. Kates hand was placed on your thigh. After teasing you about your 'adam sandler' outfit, we finally arrived in a parking lot, of what looked likd, a closed casino/hotel.

As you made your way to the elevator, suddenly the air became tense. When you looked up at her, she was already looking back at you, you could feel your face heating up, a small smile appeared on her face, and a second later you mirrored her. Just as y/n and Kates faces were close, the elevator door opened and a bell was heard.

Just as you were about to question her about the empty hallway, you halted when you saw her open the rooftop door, stairs coming down, she took your hand and helped you climb. When you were both on the roof, you took a moment to admire the view, all of the las vegas was before you, it looked majestic.

"The view...so beautiful" you whispered, still in a daze of shock.

"yeah the most" She whispered back, when you glanced back at her, you realized she was talking about you. When you took a look behind her, you saw a chinese logo. chinese food.

"I'm in love" You moaned, taking a bite of the dumpling. You heard Kate let out a laugh, both of you were dangling your feet out in the corner of the rooftop. You felt like a teenager again. Her and you were back to talking about the past, it felt liked you guys were recapping, when the breakup came up, both became hesitant.

"Where did we go wrong?" You heard her question.

"We didn't go wrong, we just went our separate ways"

"I watched suits, when i heard"

"Really?"

"Yeah, watched the whole season, you were great, just like i knew you were"

Kate was always supportive of your dreams, not that everybody else wasn't, but Kate was the only one you admitted your dream to.

"You were also"

"What?" shock, surprised.

"I watched you" you shamelessly admitted

"You did? no way"

"Yes way, i'm your biggest fan" You said, taking a bite out of the noodles. Kate laughed when you accidentally spilled some, suddenly nothing was tense, it was back to normal.

When you both finished your food, you hinted that you should return home because of the 7am shoot you had in the morning, Kate insisted you guys stay for another 30 minutes. And it was definitely worth it, after 15 minutes, a firework erupted. and then another, and another after that, and then 10 after that, they didn't stop for another 10 minutes.

Just as you convinced yourself to not expect anything, and this was still new, she had set this up. When you looked up at Kate and looked down at her lips, one thing was on your mind, and you weren't holding back as you pulled Kate towards you and connected your lips to hers.

✩

As you opened your eyes, sunlight immediately made you close them back, as a groan escaped you and you stirred to get away, two hands locked on your waist held you back. Kate. When you straightened your back, you felt a kiss behind your neck. "Good morning" you heard her raspy voice say.

you didn't make it to your 7am shoot.

✩

thank you for reading pt 3 <3333333 tune in for pt 4 soon!!!!

#kate martin #wnba #kate martin imagine #lesbian #iowa wbb #kate martin fic #kate martin x reader #kate martin x y/n #lv aces #dua writes

360 notes · View notes

foreverisntenough · 4 months ago

Text

‘Act II’

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

Index

Warnings: This series is 18+ MDNI

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

Chapter 5 - Important To Me | ‘Act II’

word count - 10.6k

You swirled the last bit of red wine in your glass, your cheeks flushed from both the alcohol and the warmth of the tiny, dimly lit tapas restaurant. The candlelight flickered between you, casting soft shadows on Jude's face. He watched you intently, his lips curled into a playful smile as you joked about something that happened at the match you attended in Mallorca despite the fall out following it.

"You know," you said, your voice laced with a teasing tone, "I think one of your teammates thinks I'm hot." You raised an eyebrow, waiting for Jude's reaction.

"Oh yeah? Which one?" he asked, though there was a lightness to his tone. Jude chuckled, shaking his head. He had showed his best friends on the team the girl he was ‘seeing’ but he wasn’t sure how you might’ve found out what their remarks were. He leaned back in his chair, stretching his long legs out beneath the table, his hand absentmindedly brushing against your knee. You took a sip of your wine, drawing out the suspense.

"I think his name is... Aurelien? Tossed me a follow on Instagram and started leaving comments on my posts." you said, your eyes sparkling with mischief. Jude rolled his eyes, though there was a smirk on his lips.

"He’s French," he replied, waving a hand dismissively. "You think he’s flirting but he’s just being French. If leaving comments on Instagram means he’s flirting then I think he has a massive crush on me.” Jude teasingly explained through a smug smile.

“I know he’s French… I’m also French.” You giggled. “And knowing what French people are like I’d say that’s a fair assumption.” You agreed with some cheek. Your grin widening. You leaned forward slightly, your voice dropping to a conspiratorial whisper. "But he’s good looking, no? Would you ever have a threesome with him?" Jude's eyebrows shot up, his mouth opening in surprise. He laughed, caught off guard by your boldness.

"A threesome, huh?" he repeated your words, his eyes narrowing playfully. "Are you serious, or just trying to mess with me?" He let out a breathy laugh. You laughed, enjoying the reaction you were getting.

"I don't know, maybe both?" You teased, biting your lip provocatively. "I mean, wouldn't it be just a little fun?” You asked, scrunching your nose with a smile. You weren’t sure what was in this wine that made you say this. To be honest, you weren’t even sure if you were actually all that game for it but you asked anyway.

"Yeah, fun," he echoed, though the thought didn't sit right with him. Jude's smile faltered slightly, a flicker of something passing through his eyes. He tried to laugh it off, but there was a tinge of discomfort in his voice.

“You don't like the idea?" You asked confused. To be fair, you kind of just assumed most boys jumped at the opportunity, that had been your experience in the past. That had been Jude’s response in the past as well but the idea of sharing you with anyone else, even in a joke, made his chest tighten.

"What's wrong?" you asked softly, leaning closer. You noticed the change in his expression, your teasing smile fading. Jude hesitated, struggling to put his feelings into words. He wasn’t sure how to not sound lame. He was trying to figure out what happened to him that he actively was disinterested in a threesome.

"It's not that," he said slowly, running a hand over his hair. "It's just... I don't know. The idea of sharing you with someone else doesn't exactly thrill me." Your teasing demeanor completely dropped, your eyes searching his.

"Why not?" you asked, genuinely curious. Despite your tiff this week you didn’t really think there was any more clarity given on the status of your situationship but maybe this was Jude trying to say just that.

"Even in a joke, it makes me feel... I don't know, possessive, I guess." Jude looked down at his hands, his fingers tracing the rim of his wine glass. "I guess... I don't like the thought of anyone else having you," he admitted quietly. Your heart swelled at his words, a tender smile spreading across your face. You reached across the table, placing your hand over his.

"Jude," you said softly, "you know l'm just teasing, right? You're the only one I want to fuck." You cooed softly despite it being a very crude sentence. After you saw Jude’s hesitation your own opinion on your unexpected idea became clear, you didn’t really want it either. Jude looked up at you, his eyes filled with a mix of relief and vulnerability.

"I know.” He said, squeezing your hand. "It's just... I've gotten used to having you all to myself, and the thought of sharing you, even in a hypothetical scenario, makes me a little sad." He looked like a hurt puppy. Your smile widened, your heart melting at his honesty.

"I kind of like that you're possessive," you confessed, your thumb stroking the back of his hand. "It makes me feel... special." You whispered hesitantly, scared you were maybe encroaching on a conversation in dangerous territory.

"You are special, angel," he said softly. "More than you know." Jude chuckled, his smile returning. You sat in comfortable silence for a moment, the warmth of the wine and the intimacy of the conversation enveloping you. Jude lifted your hand to his lips, pressing a gentle kiss to your knuckles. "I don't want to share you," he murmured against your skin. "Not with anyone." Your heart fluttered at his words, a mix of joy and longing flooding through you. You leaned over the table, closing the distance between you, and pressed your lips to his in a soft, lingering kiss.

"Then don't," you whispered against his lips. "I can be all yours, Jude." The tension in Jude's chest eased at your words, his heart filling with a warmth that had nothing to do with the wine. He pulled you closer, his hand resting on the back of your neck as he deepened the kiss, losing himself in the feel of your lips against his, the taste of you mingling with the faint hint of wine. As the kiss broke, you rested your forehead against his, your breaths mingling in the small space between you.

"Alright. You’re all mine.” He whispered. Neither of you really knew what that meant but it felt good to say and felt even better to hear. “No more talk of threesomes, yeah?" Jude smiled, a playful glint in his eyes. You giggled, nodding in agreement.

"Okay." You whispered back. You stayed like that for a moment, just enjoying the closeness, the warmth, and the quiet understanding that passed between you. In that tiny Spanish restaurant, surrounded by empty plates and the remnants of your meal, you found a sense of peace, a connection that went beyond words, a bond that neither of you wanted to share with anyone else.

In an exciting turn, Real Madrid had drawn Liverpool in the Champions League so you were thrilled that Whitney and Trent would be coming to Madrid for one of the matches but you weren’t looking forward to explaining your current situation to Whitney when she inevitably asked because you didn’t think you really could. What were you to say… When the game finally arrived and then concluded, the night in Madrid was electric, charged with the afterglow of the Champions League match. The city seemed to pulse with energy as you stepped out of the restaurant where you, Jude, Trent, and Whitney had just finished dinner post match. It had ended in a draw, a result that left both teams hungry for more but didn’t dampen the mood for the night ahead. Trent and Whitney’s love just radiated off of them, their chemistry palpable as they exchanged playful touches and private smiles. You couldn’t help but notice how effortlessly in sync they were, as if the outside world didn’t exist when they’re together. Watching them, you felt a pang of something—maybe envy, maybe longing—settle in your chest. After either minimal persuasion or rather maybe effective persuasion you convinced Trent and Jude to go to a club after your meal.

Jude’s hand found yours as you walked towards the club from the car, his fingers lacing through yours in a way that felt both protective and possessive. You could feel his focus slowly shifting from post game thoughts completely to you now. You glanced up at him, finding his gaze already on you, warm and intense. Despite the chaos and excitement around you, camera flashes and noise of fans recognizing him, in that moment, it felt like it was just the two of you. The exclusive club was packed when you arrived, the thrum of the bass vibrating through the floor and the crowd already thick in the small space. You were escorted in, they ushered your group inside with the kind of deference reserved for royalty, and in Madrid… Jude was. As soon as you were through the doors, you could feel the attention of the room shift toward you all, but most of all to Jude. It was as if a spotlight followed him wherever he went, people subtly—or not so subtly—trying to take a photo or catch his eye, but Jude was only interested in one person. You could feel his gaze on you even when you weren’t looking, a constant heat that made your skin tingle. You, Trent, and Whitney were led to a private booth, drinks already being ordered. The music loud, the beats infectious, and it didn’t take long for the energy of the club to pull everyone in. Trent and Whitney were all over each other as expected within minutes, their bodies moving together in perfect sync. They were lost in each other, completely oblivious to the crowd around them, their connection undeniable until they fell into laughter over something. You watched them giggling for a moment, taking in the way Trent’s hands rested on Whitney’s hips, keeping her close to him. It was all so natural, so effortless, that it made you wonder if you and Jude could ever reach that same level of ease when you hadn’t even defined what you were. You glanced at Jude again, who was leaning back in the booth, his eyes still on you. There was something in his expression that made your breath catch—a mix of admiration, desire, and something deeper, something that looks a lot like love.

“You look so good tonight, angel” he murmured, his voice low in your ear, sending a shiver down your spine. You were in black lace long sleeve top, a miniscule pair of shorts in a tiger print with tall black boots. You honestly felt like you looked good tonight so you appreciated the compliment. Jude reached for your hand, pulling you closer until you were nearly in his lap. You whispered a quiet ‘thank you’ leaning into him, feeling the warmth of his body against yours. Giggling through a compliment of your own. “You know everyone’s watching us, right?” He chuckled softly, his big hand sliding up your thigh, his touch both comforting and possessive.

“They’re watching you,” you corrected him, but Jude shook his head. You smiled, aware of the curious glances being thrown your way from all corners of the club.

“They’re watching us,” he insists, his eyes darkening as they sweep over your face. “But I don’t care about them. I only care about you, angel.” The sincerity in his voice made your heart skip a beat. It was moments like this that made you forget about the doubts and the complications, moments where it was just you and Jude, and everything else faded away.

“Come dance with me.” You leaned in closer, your lips brushing against his ear. Jude didn’t hesitate, pulling you up and leading you to the dance floor. It was almost as if the more crowded the place the more Jude was able to blend in so you found comfort lost amongst the crowd together. The music was loud, the bass thumping through your body as you moved. You could feel the heat between you, the tension that was always simmering just below the surface. Jude’s hands were on your waist, pulling you close, his body pressed against yours as you swayed to the rhythm of the music. You lost yourself in the moment, in the feeling of Jude’s body against yours, in the way his eyes never left your face. It was intoxicating, the way he looked at you, more than any liquor ever could get you to feel. It was like you were the only person in the room, the only person who mattered. The club’s music continued vibrating through your body as you and Jude danced, your movements in sync despite the chaos of the packed room. His hands on your body felt like fire in the best way, unable to let go of you. The intensity in his eyes was undeniable.As you danced, you caught the sight of Trent and Whitney again, still wrapped up in each other, completely in their own world. You couldn’t help but smile, feeling a sense of contentment wash over you. Maybe you and Jude weren’t exactly like them, but you had your own rhythm, your own connection, and in this moment, that felt like more than enough. But even as you lost yourself in the moment, that sight of Trent and Whitney kept drawing your attention once. They were laughing and kissing. You want that—of course you do. Who wouldn’t? To be so deeply connected to someone, to feel so loved and supported, it’s what anyone would wish for. Your mind began to drift to a place where you questioned if what you and Jude had created was out of convenience. Both thoughts, connection or convenience terrified you. Whitney had moved countries for Trent, uprooted her entire life. Would you be able to do the same? As if able to sense the shift in your mood, Jude pulled back slightly, just enough to search your face. His brow furrowed in concern. He leaned in closer, his voice a low rumble against your ear, cutting through the pounding bass.

“Ever think you want that?” he asked, his gaze flicking to where Trent and Whitney were still lost in each other. “What they have?” You feel your throat tighten at the question. The real truth was, you probably did. You weren’t sure if you could admit out loud that you want what they have more than anything. The fear of what that could mean for you, for your life, was like a weight pressing down on your chest.

“I mean… They’re so happy. It’s hard to say anyone wouldn’t want that.” You tried to smile, but it felt weak, unconvincing. You just couldn’t get anything more concrete past your lips, not even to yourself, let alone to Jude.

“I’m not talking about anyone else. I’m asking you—do you want that?” Jude didn’t let it go. He tilted your chin up, forcing you to meet his eyes. You hesitated, your mind racing. There was a vulnerability in his question that caught you off guard, like he was just as afraid of your answer as you were of giving it. But something about the way he looked at you, the way he held you, made you feel like maybe it would be okay to be honest. To take a chance.

“Yeah... but it’s… it’s scary, Jude. What if it doesn’t work out? We’re not like them?” You swallowed hard, your voice barely above a whisper. Jude’s expression softened, his thumb brushing gently over your cheek.

“It’s scary for me as well though.” he admitted, his voice rough with sincerity. “But I don’t want to keep dancing around this, pretending like what we have is just… casual. It’s not, and we both know it.” The club seemed to fade away, the noise, the people, everything except Jude’s voice and the intensity in his eyes. You could feel your heart pounding, but it wasn’t just from the music. It was from the weight of what he was saying, the seriousness of it.

“I want more, with you. I don’t want to just see where this goes. I think we should date. Give it a go. I want us to… you know…” Jude takes a deep breath, as if gathering his thoughts. “I’m not saying it’s going to be easy,” he continues, “but I’m willing to try if you are. I want to try.” You stare at him, your heart swelling with a mixture of relief and fear. This is what you wanted, isn’t it? To be with Jude in a way that wasn’t just physical, something that you could maybe see out. But hearing him say it out loud, admitting that he wanted the same thing, felt like stepping off a cliff. But then he smiled, and it was like all the fear in your chest melted away.

“Yeah, okay, Jude. I want to try too.” You nodded, finally allowing yourself to smile too, your hand squeezed his. His grin widens, and before you could say anything else, he pulled you closer, pressing his lips to yours in a kiss that felt different from any you’d shared before. It wasn’t just about passion, lust, or desire—it felt like a promise, about starting something real together. When you finally pulled away, breathless, the world around you seems brighter, the future a little less daunting. You don’t know what’s going to happen next, but you were ready to find out—together. The night stretched on, a blur of music, laughter, and stolen moments with Jude. By the time you left the club, the city was quiet, the early morning hours creeping in. You walked hand in hand with Jude, the tension from earlier in the night completely dissolved, replaced by a comfortable silence that spoke volumes.

As you headed back home that night, you felt a sense of peace settle over you. Whatever happened next, you knew you were not alone in it. Jude was with you, and that’s all you needed for now. You and Jude stumbled through the door of the house, the city lights of Madrid faded in the distance. The night had been a whirlwind with a few too many drinks but it had been perfect. Giggling as you both tried to stay upright, Jude kicked off his shoes with exaggerated movements, and you followed suit, your laughter echoing off the walls. He grabbed your waist, pulling you in for a kiss, his lips tasting like the remnants of tequila and lime. His touch was gentle yet firm, playful yet intense, and you felt the heat between you growing with every second. He pulled back for a moment, gazing at you with half-lidded eyes, his smile lazy and adoring.

“Come here,” he muttered, his voice low and rough from the night’s excitement. Jude dramatically threw himself onto the big bed, pulling you down with him. You tumbled onto the mattress together, bodies collapsing in a mess of limbs and laughter. After you settled he sat up a little to really look at you. “You know you’re not as tough as you seem.” He gently cooed. The bed enveloped you both, and suddenly, everything felt softer, quieter, more intimate.

“No.” You giggled initially. “So unbelievably soft with you.” You sighed. You lay beside him, your head resting on his chest, listening to his heartbeat slow from the buzz of the night. Your breathing began to sync, slow and steady, as the moments passed.

“I like that. I like that you let your guard down with me. That you’re only like that with me.”he gently spoke to you as his arms wrapped tightly around you, as if he didn’t want to let go, like he was holding on to more than just the moment.

“Only with you.” You cooed The room was dark, but the warmth of his skin against yours felt like a glowing ember in the silence. Jude tilted his head down, pressing gentle kisses along your temple, your forehead, and your cheek. You nuzzled into him, hiding embarrassed by your drunken confession.

“What are you getting all shy for? C’mere!” He laughed, pulling your face off his neck. He cupped your face. “I think you like me.” He smugly smirked at you.

“You know that I like you.” You admitted shyly but very sure of your words. His lips lingered on your skin, soft and comforting, like he couldn’t get enough of the closeness

“You know I like you, right?” Jude cooed, holding you tight to him. You hummed with a nod. “You’re beautiful, Y/N. I like when you’re like this.” He told you holding your face in front of his. You mumbled out a ‘thanks.’ “I mean I love how confident and independent you are but I like being the person you… you know … like…” Jude stumbled through his sentence not totally sure how to tell you what he thought:

“Am weak in front of.” You sighed realizing that Jude had all your carefully crafted, reinforced steel walls crumbling down. The alcohol blurring your boundaries and Jude barreling through them.

“You’re not weak, angel… you’re just…” Jude tried to make you feel less vulnerable but he couldn’t think of another word for what you were towards him. A part of him almost liked that you thought you were so swayed by him but he also didn’t want you to view it as a negative.

“I’m comfortable with you, Jude, maybe that's it.” You sighed pushing your cheek against him a bit more relishing in the comfort he provided for you both physically and mentally.

“I like making you comfortable.” He hummed, running his hand over your hair gently. “You know you do that for me as well. Feel like I can just take a breath when I’m with you. Everything just…” Jude paused momentarily.

“Slows down.” You smiled, finishing his sentence.

“Yeah exactly.” Jude cooed, breathing you in, feeling his whole body relax with you in his arms. “You know…This,” Jude whispered against your skin, his breath sending shivers down your spine, “I’ve been waiting for this.”

“For what?” you murmured, your voice barely above a whisper. You closed your eyes, nuzzling deeper into him, feeling the vulnerability rise up in you, a vulnerability you hadn’t shown him until now.

“For you,” he replied, his fingers tracing lazy circles on your arm. “For you to let me in. I’ve been waiting for you to trust me.” His words hit deep, and you felt the weight of them settle into your chest. He wasn’t just talking about tonight. He was talking about everything—the walls you’d built up, the fear of getting too close, the way you had kept him at arm’s length even as things between you deepened.

“I’m trying,” you said softly, your voice barely audible as you pressed a hand to his chest, feeling the steady rhythm of his heart beneath your palm. “It’s just hard.”

“I know,” Jude said, his voice tender, filled with understanding. “But I told you I’m not going anywhere. I’ll be here whenever you’re ready.” He kissed you again, this time slower, more deliberate, as if he was savoring the moment, and you melted into him, allowing yourself to sink further into the closeness. The sensation of his lips against yours, the warmth of his body, the feeling of his arms wrapped around you—it was everything. Jude pulled back just enough to look into your eyes, brushing a strand of hair away from your face. “I like this side of you,” he whispered, his fingers lightly tracing your jaw. “The side that’s real, that’s vulnerable. You don’t have to hide from me.”

“You’re important to me, you know that, right?” you admitted, feeling the truth of your words sink in. His words stirred something in you—an ache, a fear, but also a deep sense of comfort. You smiled faintly, resting your forehead against his.

“And you’re important to me,” he whispered, his voice thick with emotion. “More than you know.” Jude’s arms tightened around you, his lips brushing your forehead once more. For the first time, you allowed yourself to believe him fully, and the walls you’d so carefully constructed around your heart began to crumble just a little. In that quiet, intimate moment, wrapped in each other’s arms, you felt closer to Jude than ever before—like maybe, just maybe, this could be something more than either of you had ever expected.

Your Jeff Koons x Louis Vuitton Monet duffle bag would be accurately defined as one of your most prized possessions. It was a gift from your dad for your sixteenth birthday that had only grown more valuable and coveted over time. And although it was two things you loved coming together; art and fashion, it wasn’t just an accessory to you—it held sentimental value, a reminder of a special bond and a moment in time. It was a limited release, making it the kind of item people noticed, especially boys like Jude in the world of football, where luxury bags were often part of the gig especially in their pre-match walks into the stadiums. Jude had caught it when you first came in, of course he did. It was a lavender bag with one of the world's most famous paintings sprayed across it, it was hard to miss. One day though as he was just admiring how much he liked the collection of your belongings strewn across the room, his eyes landed on the duffle, and he paused, raising an eyebrow in appreciation.

“So the bag…” he asked, his voice carrying a mix of admiration and curiosity as he picked it up. “This is insane.” he laughed a little, holding the now unpacked and empty leather up.

“Yeah, my dad gave it to me. It’s kind of special.” You smiled, nodding. Jude’s fingers traced the letters embossed on the front, clearly impressed.

“Would you ever let me borrow this? Like could I… use it? Just for the match this weekend?” The request seemed so simple, yet it held more weight than he realized. You weren’t the type to let just anyone use your things, especially not something as personal and significant as that bag. But with Jude, it was different. It wasn’t just about the bag—it was about letting him into your life, trusting him with something meaningful, even in the smallest of ways.

“Sure,” you said after a moment, your voice soft. “You can use it.” You took a breath feeling like you just officially opened your heart to him.

“Really? You’re the best, baby. I promise I’ll take care of it. Just in and out of the Bernabeu” His smile widened, the excitement evident in his eyes. And while it was just a bag, letting Jude walk into the stadium with it felt like you were giving him a deeper part of yourself. It was a small gesture, but in your world, it was an unspoken way of telling him that you trusted him, that he was more than just someone passing through your life.

“Might land me on Footballer Fits.” Jude laughed. “Are you sure it’s okay for me to use this, angel?” he asked, gently running his hand over the smooth leather. You were in the middle of helping Jude pack, folding his clothes and tucking them neatly into the bag. As he lifted a shirt to place in the bag, he turned to you with a soft smile. You paused for a moment, your eyes meeting his, and you felt a warmth spread through you. The duffel wasn’t just a luxury item—it was a piece of your heart, tied to so many memories. And now, you were sharing it with him.

“Yeah, it’s okay,” you reassured him, but then a thought struck you, and you found yourself wanting to share more. “You know, my dad gave me this bag for my 16th birthday.” Jude glanced up from his packing, curiosity lighting up his expression. You could see how much he wanted to hear the story behind it. “ He had like the OG Louis duffel. My grand-père gave it to him when he first started traveling for work. He said the bag was quality like him.” you continued, your voice softening with nostalgia. “He gave me this one though and told me it was special like me—strong, beautiful, intricate, and full of mystery. He said I was someone to take care of, just like this bag.” You smiled playing with a ring on your finger avoiding eye contact caught in your own feelings of nostalgia recalling the day you got the bag. Jude listened intently, his gaze never leaving you. His attention made you feel like every word you were saying mattered. “This bag was so coveted,” you added, tracing the LV monogram with your fingers. “They were limited as well. My dad told me that it was a reflection of who I was, and how I should value myself—rare, unique, something to treasure.” You sighed a little, starting to question if you really had lived up to all that the bag’s standards. Jude’s face softened at your words, and he placed the shirt he was holding into the duffel with extra care.

“Your dad sounds like a wise man,” he said, his voice filled with admiration. You nodded, smiling at the memory.

“Yeah, he was. He always told me that the quality of Louis Vuitton was like the quality of people. It holds up, no matter where it goes or what it carries. He said I was strong like that, and that I should never settle for anything less than what I deserve.” You softly spoke feeling emotional about your dad. Jude smiled a little taken aback that in Greece you had completely pushed away his question about your dad and now you had told him a whole narrative unprovoked. Jude hesitated before he spoke again for a moment

“Are you sure it’s really okay for me to use it? I feel like it means so much more now.” He asked again, more seriously this time. You looked at him, feeling a rush of affection. He wasn’t just anyone; he was someone you were letting in, someone you trusted with not just the bag, but with your heart. With a smile, you reached for his hand, giving it a reassuring squeeze.

“I think my dad would like you. You’re kinda like this bag too, Jude,” you said softly. “You’re strong, rare, and there’s so much more to you than people realize. My dad was right—quality lasts, and I see that in you. So, yeah, it’s okay for you to use it. I trust you with it.”

"I’ll take care of it,” he promised, his voice sincere. “Take care of you too.” Jude’s eyes softened as he leaned in, pressing a gentle kiss to your forehead. And in that moment, you both knew that it wasn’t just about the bag—it was about something deeper, something that made you feel like you were finally letting him into the most personal parts of your life.

Whitney was at her house lounging on her couch, a glass of wine in hand, watching the pre-match coverage of Real Madrid. As the players made their way into the stadium, her eyes widened when she spotted Jude walking in with a very familiar bag slung over his shoulder. The Louis Vuitton duffel— your duffel. There was no mistaking it, especially with the subtle initials engraved on the tag.Without hesitation, she grabbed her phone and called you. The moment you picked up, she didn’t even bother with a greeting.

“Excuse me mam, does Jude Bellingham have your Koons duffle bag right now?” She asked, her tone filled with disbelief.

“Yes Whit,” you replied, trying to sound casual. “I let him borrow it.” You let out a small laugh, already knowing what she was talking about.

“You let him borrow it?” Whitney repeated, her voice teasing but incredulous. “Do you realize what a big deal that is? That’s not just any bag—that’s your dad’s bag. And I saw the tag. Your initials gave it away.” She giggled. You blushed, even though Whitney couldn’t see it through the phone. You knew how much the bag meant to you, and so did she. It wasn’t something you just handed over to anyone. But with Jude, it felt different.

“I trust him,” you said softly, hoping that would be enough to explain the gesture. “It’s not a big deal.” You tried to downplay the situation but there was something about talking with your best friend that just made you want to gush.

“Not a big deal? Please. This is huge for you, and you know it. You don’t just let people use that bag—it’s practically sacred.” Whitney scoffed. You couldn’t help but smile, though you continued to downplay it.

“I guess it just feels right. He respects what it means.” You calmly tried to tell her.

“Girlie, you’re really into him, huh?” Whitney paused for a moment, and you could tell she was processing just how significant this was.

“Yeah… I think I am.” You sighed, a soft smile playing on your lips. When Jude came home after the game, there was a playful glint in his eyes as he held up the Louis Vuitton duffle.

"Look," he said with a teasing grin, "safely returned, completely intact." He cooed. You smiled, grateful for his thoughtfulness. As he handed it over, you unzipped it and noticed something unusual at the bottom—a Louis Vuitton box tucked neatly inside. Curious, you pulled it out and looked up at him.

“What’s this?” you asked, your brow furrowed in surprise.

“It’s for you.” Jude shrugged, trying to play it cool but clearly excited. Sitting on the floor, you carefully opened the box, revealing a wash bag, personalized with your surname painted elegantly across it. He didn’t say it but you knew this was equally as hard to get. You gasped softly, the surprise sending a wave of warmth through you. Jude sat down beside you, watching your reaction with a mix of pride and affection. “It’s a thank you,” he said, his voice quieter now. “Not just for letting me use the bag, but for letting me in. For... removing the glass in front of the painting, you know? The one that’s been protecting everything important to you.” He gently spoke. His words touched you in a way you didn’t expect, hitting you square in the chest. You leaned in instinctively, kissing him softly. When you pulled back, you felt overwhelmed by how much he meant to you.

"You’ve always liked hearing about me," you said, almost as if realizing it for the first time, "about the things that matter to me." You tilted your head almost skeptical that Jude actually did.

"Of course. I love hearing what’s important to you." Jude smiled, his gaze steady and warm. You hesitated for a beat, emotions bubbling up.

"Well... you're important to me." You softly smiled at him. His expression shifted, eyes softening as your words sank in.

“You’re important to me too,” he whispered, his voice low, full of meaning. He gently brushed a strand of hair from your face, his thumb grazing your cheek. Sitting there on the floor, side by side, you felt a deeper connection blooming between you—something more solid than words, more tangible than the material gifts exchanged.

“Thank you,” you murmured again, your voice softer now, “for taking care of the bag... and… you know me.” You gently sighed leaning into him.

"I’m always going to take care of both." Jude hummed and pulled you closer, his arm wrapping around you.

“What are you doing tonight besides me?” You giggled coming into the en suite of Jude’s room and wrapping yourself around him as he meticulously did his hair. Things had been good since you took down the glass. Like really good.

“Mmmm as good as that sounds we do have plans.” He hummed craning his neck to the side to kiss you.

“We do?” You questioned him a little confused because usually he’d give you a little more notice if it was something with friends or you would’ve heard from Denise if you all were doing anything. He just hummed once more confirming. “I don’t have anything to wear…” You let go of him and looked up to him with a bit of a panicked expression.

“You do. You didn’t go in the wardrobe I’m assuming?” He cooed with a straight face leaning forward to strategically address one stray curl he was unhappy with.

“Really? Thank you!” You beamed, reaching up to smush a wet kiss on his cheek. Jude unable to hold the straight face after receiving it.

“Don’t say thank you yet, what if you don’t like it?” He deviously smirked through the mirror back at you.

“Okay…What if I don’t like it?” You raised your brow at him leaning back onto the marble counter top waiting for his answer.

“That’s alright, there’s two options anyways.” He said returning to his straight faced expression. You laughed with a shake of the head at Jude’s attempt at acting nonchalant. You said thank you once more but gave him about fifty more sloppy kisses before he finally cracked. Jude laughed to himself when he heard you squeal entering the wardrobe seeing two of your favorite designer garment bags hung. You chose option two; a mauvy pink Oscar de la Renta Bow-Detailed Lace Mini Dress paired with some coordinating heels.

The streets of Madrid were quiet as Jude led you through the darkened city, your footsteps echoing softly against the cobblestones. The night was cool, the kind that made you want to wrap yourself up in someone’s arms, and Jude kept a gentle but firm hold on your hand, guiding you towards your destination with an air of mystery.

“Are you ever going to tell me where we’re going?” You asked, a teasing lilt to your voice as you glanced up at him. The thrill of the unknown sparkled in your eyes, and Jude couldn’t help but smile in response.

“You’ll see,” he replied with a grin, squeezing your hand reassuringly. “Just trust me.” You rounded a corner, and your breath caught as you realized where you were. The imposing façade of the Thyssen loomed before you, its grand entrance closed off to the public for the night.

“Jude, what…?” You turned to Jude, your eyes wide with surprise.

“I pulled a few strings,” Jude said with a shrug, his tone casual, though the pleased smile on his face betrayed his excitement. “I thought you might like to see the museum in a way not many people get to.” He led you to a side entrance, where a discreetly stationed guard nodded and opened the door for you. The cool, quiet halls of the museum greeted you as you stepped inside, the usual crowds and chatter replaced by a serene stillness. You looked around in awe, your hand tightening in Jude’s as you took in the empty corridors, the masterpieces lining the walls illuminated by soft, ambient lighting.

“It’s beautiful,” you whispered, your voice reverent as you walked slowly through the galleries, the only sound the faint echo of their footsteps. Jude watched you as you took in the artwork, the way your eyes lit up with recognition and admiration for the pieces you loved. He’d seen you happy before, but there was something different about the way you were now—completely in your element, unguarded and deeply absorbed in the art around you. He related to it almost in bizarre way, like this place to you was like a football pitch to him.

“You’re beautiful,” he murmured, almost to himself, but you caught it and turned to him with a soft smile. As you walked deeper into the museum, Jude finally led you into one of the larger gallery halls, where a table for two was elegantly set up in the center of the room, surrounded by some of the most iconic paintings in the world. Candles flickered gently on the table, casting a warm glow over the space, and soft classical music played in the background, filling the air with an intimate, romantic ambiance.

“Jude… this is… this is incredible. Are you fucking insane?” You gasped, your eyes widening as you took in the scene.

“I wanted to do something special for you,” he said, pulling out a chair for you. “Somewhere we could talk… and not just about the usual stuff.” Jude smiled, feeling a swell of pride and affection as he watched your reaction. Once you were seated, the dinner was served—a beautifully crafted meal that was just as much a feast for the eyes as it was for the palate. But what Jude enjoyed more than the food was watching you light up as you talked about the art surrounding them. He loved the way your eyes would shine when you discussed a particular painting or artist, the way you spoke with such passion and knowledge. It was like watching you reveal a part of yourself that few people got to see. “You really know your stuff, you know that?” Jude said with a grin after you’d finished explaining the history behind one of the paintings nearby.

“I’ve just always loved art,” you said, a shy smile on your lips. “Always made me feel less alone. It’s like… there’s so much emotion in every brushstroke, thought in every color choice. It’s like the artist is speaking to you, telling you a story without saying a word. I like the incredibly loud silence.” You blushed, glancing down at your plate feeling a bit silly trying to explain.

“I get it. It’s like how I feel about footie, I guess. It’s more than just a game—it’s a way of expressing myself, even if it’s not the same as painting or sculpture.” Jude nodded, his expression thoughtful.

“You’re an artist too, Jude. Just in a different way.” You looked up at him, your eyes softening.

“I don’t know about that,” he said, his tone light. Jude chuckled, shaking his head. “But I do know that you’re one of the most passionate, intelligent people I’ve ever met. And I’m not just saying that because I think you’re stupidly attractive or because, well, you’re amazing in bed.” He flashed you a cheeky grin, but then his expression turned more serious. “I mean it, Y/N. You’ve got this… spark. You see the world in a way that’s different from anyone else, and it’s one of the things I like most about you.” You felt your heart skip a beat at his words, warmth flooding your chest. It wasn’t often that people saw you for more than just your looks or your wit, and hearing Jude speak so sincerely made you feel cherished in a way you hadn’t expected.

“Thank you, Jude,” you said softly, reaching across the table to take his hand. “That means more to me than you know.” You sat in your own incredibly loud silence for a moment, the weight of the art around you seeming to press in on you, filling the space with unspoken emotions. It was a moment out of time, just the two of you, surrounded by beauty and history, sharing something deeper than words could convey. Finally, Jude broke the silence with a smile.

“So, tell me more about this one,” he said, nodding towards a nearby painting. “I want to hear everything.” He winked. Your eyes lit up again, and you launched into a passionate explanation, your words flowing freely as Jude listened intently, hanging on every word. He wasn’t just interested in the art—he was interested in you, in everything that made you who you were. And as the night went on, surrounded by masterpieces and candlelight, Jude realized that this was exactly where he wanted to be—here, with you, in a world that was yours alone, hating the realization that soon the place would flood with people and you would have to leave.

“Wow… I’ve never gotten to see this in person.” You cooed softly, stopping mid stride getting reeled in by a painting in the corridor as you were leaving the museum. You gently pulled Jude’s arm to halt him.

“Yeah? Tell me about it.” He cooed, stopping and coming round you wrapping his arms around your waist tucking his face into the nape of your beck.

“No , no, no it’s stupid I just …you’ve heard enough tonight.” You breathily laughed a little embarrassed you had talked Jude’s ear off for the past couple hours about art.

“I want to hear.” Jude mused kissing up your neck with a hum.

“Okay, so it’s amazing because….” You began to ramble about a painting you’d longed to see in person what felt like your whole life. Jude let go of you and leaned against the railing, his gaze fixed on you as you stood in front of the painting, your eyes tracing every brushstroke, every delicate line of the portrait. The Tyssen Museum was hauntingly quiet at this hour, the usual crowds replaced by the silence of the late night.You spoke softly, your voice animated as you explained what drew you to the piece in front of you. Jude could hear the excitement in your tone, the passion in the way you described the artistry, but as he watched you, it all became a blur.

“You’re beautiful.” Jude whispered, telling once more just the same, tucking hair behind your ear. The painting, famous and revered, was no match for the sight of you under the museum's soft lighting. The warm glow illuminating your skin, casting a golden sheen over your features, and Jude found himself mesmerized. The way your lips moved, the way your eyes lit up as you pointed to certain details, had him completely entranced.

“You’re not listening!” you giggled, chastising him for not paying attention to what you were trying to tell him teasingly.

“You’re distracting even in a museum, angel.” To him, you looked like you belonged in a painting yourself, a masterpiece in your own right, standing there rivaling the centuries-old art hung behind you.

“Pay attention!” You laughed a little bit more pinching at his arm. He smiled, still not really listening anymore but completely lost in the way your beauty seemed to fill the room, making everything else fade into the background.

“I was never all that great in school.” Jude explained interrupting you. The museum’s grandeur, the priceless art, the stillness of the night—it all seemed insignificant compared to you. His heart swelled, and he felt this overwhelming sense of awe, not for the art, but for you. You scoffed a little bit jokingly. “I’m listening, I'm listening. Color theory, medium, suicide?” He furrowed his brow trying to recite a shortened version of the historical synopsis you just gave him about the artist You turned to glance at him, catching him staring unapologetically, and smiled in return.

“Yeah well sort of… the thing is…” You began to continue your ramble feeling like it was important for Jude to know. “Can’t you just feel that emotion?” You cooed concluding your soliloquy. Jude nodded his head, his smile falling into a straight face.

“Yeah.” He whispered. Jude wasn’t really sure what you meant regarding the art but he knew he could feel the emotion in his heart about you. That he liked you more than he thought he did. His heart was hammering in his chest despite the calm environment around you. Your scent swirling around him entangling him in an embrace he never wanted to leave. He reached out once more, brushing a strand of hair behind your ear, his fingers lingering for just a moment. “I’m serious when I say this,” he continued, his voice a little more sincere. “I could stand here and stare at you all night, and I still wouldn’t get tired of it.” He cooed. You blushed, a bit taken aback by the way he was looking at you—as if you were more than just the girl he was falling for, but something precious, irreplaceable. You turned back to the painting, trying to steady your racing heart, but you felt his eyes still on you, his presence with you, so close you could feel his warmth. Jude leaned in, his lips brushing your ear as he whispered, “Keep talking... I love hearing you talk about things you love.” But the way he said it, the depth of his voice, told you that what he really loved might just be you, standing there, completely absorbed in something meaningful to you and you might’ve felt just the same

Later in the week, it was one of those nights when staying in just felt right. You and Jude had originally made plans to go out, but after a quiet dinner with Denise, sipping wine and laughing over simple things, it became clear that tonight was meant for something more intimate. It was an unspoken agreement, a silent confirmation that you were probably more than just “dating.” As the evening stretched, and the wine bottle emptied, Denise headed upstairs, leaving you and Jude alone in the quiet of the house.

"You know how to play pool, angel?" Jude turned to you with a playful smile. The lights were dim, and the air between you was thick with the kind of tension that neither of you was acknowledging—but you both felt it.

“Yeah, I’ve played a few times.” You raised an eyebrow, smirking a little as you casually shrugged. You were majorly downplaying your competence. You strolled into the luxurious game room in the house, the soft carpet cushioning your bare feet as you made your way towards the pool table. The air was heavy with anticipation, a mix of excitement and a hint of nerves fluttering in your stomach. Jude’s brown eyes sparkled with mischief as he caught sight of you. You bit your lip, feigning innocence, and batting your eyelashes.

"Alright, let's see what you’ve got." Jude pulled out the cues, setting up the balls, the soft crack of them breaking against each other echoing in the room. He smiled at you, naively believing that you didn’t play too often and he’d get the chance to teach you. You stepped up to the table, purposefully fumbling with the cue as if you didn’t know quite what to do, all while catching Jude's amused glance. As you leaned against the table, your tight tank top accentuates your generous cleavage, a sight that didn’t go unnoticed by Jude. His gaze lingered for a moment before he cleared his throat, focusing on the task at hand. “Here, let me help you, baby,” he said, sliding in close behind you, his body pressing lightly against yours. His hand rested over yours on the cue, guiding your movements in a way that felt less about billiards and more about closing the space between you.

“You know, you really don’t need to teach me,” you murmured, looking over your shoulder at him with a mischievous grin.

“I’m sure you don’t need help, but where’s the fun in that?” he shot back, his breath brushing your neck, the closeness making the air between you electric. "Alright, let's start with the basics. First, you need to hold the cue stick like this..." He steped closer, his warm breath tickling your ear as he guided your hand, positioning it on the smooth wooden stick. His fingers grazed your skin, sending shivers down your spine. "Now, just bend your knees a little f’me slightly and lean forward," he instructed you, his voice husky. You more than happily obliged, bending over the table, your long hair cascading down, providing a teasing glimpse of your body. You couldn’t help but notice as Jude's eyes darkened with desire. "That's it, just like that," he whispers, his warm hands resting on your hips, guiding your movements. He’d said that to you before but in bed and it had you’re heart racing right then. "But remember, it's not just about the posture, you need to stroke it gently, with a firm grip." He cooed. As he demonstrated, his body brushed against yours, and you could feel his hard cock pressing against your lower back. You suppressed a moan, trying to focus on the game, but Jude's touch was electric. "Now, you just line it up and strike," he said, his breath hot on your neck. He leaned in, guiding you to take the shot, but neither of you were really focused on the game anymore. The proximity, the way his hands lingered on yours, the way your bodies fit together so naturally—it was more of a seduction than a lesson. You pulled back the cue stick, your heart racing, and with a smooth motion, you sent the ball rolling across the table. It hit the target with a satisfying click, and you couldn’t help but feel a sense of triumph. Jude let out a low whistle. "Damn baby, you're a natural. We’ll just go shot for shot for a little then we can have a game." He cooed with a greedy smile. Each stroke, the sexual tension between you and Jude grew. You found yourself getting more daring, bending over the table with deliberate seduction, your movements becoming a tantalizing dance. Jude's eyes never leaving you, his gaze burning with desire, missing shots he would never normally miss. "You're driving me wild, you know that?" he chuckled, his voice thick with want. "Play a game with me but how about we make things a little more... interesting?" He asked you. You raised an eyebrow, curiosity and lust warring within you.

"What did you have in mind, baby?" You cooed. With a devilish smile, he stepped back and pulled his shirt over his head, revealing his sculpted chest. Your eyes went wide.

"Let's play a game, just you and me. The rules are simple—the loser strips." Jude’s eyes darkened, that playful smile of his fading into something far more intense. His hand stayed on your waist, fingers lightly tracing the fabric of your shirt. The space between you dissolved, the tension from the night bubbling to the surface. The pool game forgotten, Jude’s hand slid up your back as he pulled you closer, his lips brushing the side of your neck. Your eyes fluttered close. "You don’t want to play a different game with me, hmm?" he whispered against your skin, his voice a low, a sensual hum. You nodded with a smile, your pulse quickening. Jude pulled back just enough to look at you, his eyes lingering on your lips.

“No… no I think I do.” You whimpered distracted by him. The heat between you undeniable now. His hand tightened on your waist, and he leaned in closer, his lips hovering just a breath away from yours. Jude’s eyes glinted with mischief as he pulled back slightly, still close enough that you could feel the heat of his breath.

"Alright, angel" He let his fingers trace the outline of your waist, his voice dropping into a playful, low tone. He grinned, stepping back toward the pool table, leaning casually against it as if what he was about to say wasn’t about to send your pulse racing. "How about we make it a bit more... fun though and play shot by shot?" He mused. You tilted your head, catching onto the tone. Jude’s grin deepened, his eyes sparkling with playful intent. "For every shot you make, I take something off. And for every shot I make, you do."

"Okay, I think that sounds fun.” Your lips parted in surprise, and then a slow smile curled at the edges of your mouth. You watch Jude’s eyes light up with confidence. “So do you think you’re going to win?" You asked him with a smirk.

"I mean, either way, it sounds like a win to me." He shrugged, the smile never leaving his face. Despite his competitive nature, Jude felt like this truly was a win win. You laughed softly, a flush of excitement blooming inside you.

"Just so you know, I don’t plan on losing." You stepped back to the pool table and grabbed your cue with a newfound sense of thrill and a wink to him.

“Neither do I. Have a quick google angel, I rarely lose.” Jude cooed. You leaned over the table, lining up your shot, feeling his eyes on you the entire time. The first ball sunk smoothly into the pocket, and you turned to him with a triumphant grin. Now your true capability at billiards was about to come out. Jude’s brow furrowed at the ease at which you hit the shot.

"Looks like you’re already down one," you teased, watching as Jude chuckled, his fingers going to the hem of his joggers. He peeled them off slowly, tossing them aside with a playful smirk, his toned body now on full display."Alright, your turn," you said, stepping back and leaning casually against the wall, enjoying the view a little too much. Jude took his shot, a clean break as the ball rolled effortlessly into another pocket. You swallowed, realizing how real this game was getting now. With a slight smirk, you reached for the hem of your top, pulling it over your head and feeling the cool air of the house hit your skin, revealing your lacy bra. Jude's breath hitched at the sight. His gaze lingered on you for a moment longer, the tension between you building with each second.

"You’re good. Better than you let on, you know." He grinned. He took his next shot, missing by a fraction, and you stepped up with a sense of victory, sinking another ball into the pocket. You found yourself matching Jude's skill, potting balls with precision. But it's not just the game that has you on edge; it's the way Jude watched you, his eyes burning with a mixture of admiration and raw desire.

"I told you I don’t plan on losing." You teased, leaning back against the table as he pulled off his socks and tossing them aside. You called it a cop out item of choice but he insisted it counted. The game continued, both of you more focused on each other than the actual shots, the room growing warmer with every piece of clothing that hit the floor. The final round was intense, both of you focused and determined. You lined up your shot, your hands steady despite the electric awareness of Jude's gaze on your naked skin. With a smooth stroke, you sank the winning ball, claiming victory. And as that last ball rolled into the pocket, you were both breathless, the intensity of the moment catching up to you. Jude stepped closer, closing the space between you again, his hand finding its way to the small of your back, pulling you flush against him.

"I’ve never been more excited about losing a game." he murmured, his voice husky as his lips hovered just over yours. You smiled, your heart racing, the air between you charged with undeniable tension.

"I think I like it when you lose." You whispered back, feeling the heat of your skin against his. He stepped closer, his eyes locking with yours. In one swift motion, he lifted you onto the pool table, the cool surface contrasting with the heat radiating from your bodies. Your breath came in shallow gasps as Jude kneeled between your thighs, his hands gliding up your legs, pushing your panties aside.

"Yeah? I think you’ll like this better, angel," he growled, his voice hoarse with need. "You're so wet f’me already, lemme taste you." His mouth descended, capturing your sensitive bud between his lips. He teased you with his tongue, licking and sucking, driving to a place of wild pleasure. Your hips arched off the table, seeking more of his delicious torment. Jude's fingers delved into your folds, finding your sweet spot, and he thrusted them inside, curving to hit that magical spot within.

"Oh, fuck Jude!" you cried out, your voice echoing in the room. Your body trembled as he worked his magic, his mouth and fingers bringing you closer and closer to the edge.

"That's it, baby, let go," he urged you, his words sending you spiraling towards ecstasy. With one final flick of his tongue, you shattered crying out his name as your orgasm began. Waves of pleasure rippled through your body, leaving you trembling and sated. You could hear your slickness. He was deeply and messily eating you out, inhaling loudly through his nose.

“Fuck, I’m cumming: Oh my god.” You cried squeezing your eyes shut when you felt white hot pleasure course through you. Your legs twitching in pleasure. Jude continued lapping up your slick arousal that was starting to drip down his chin.

"Jude" You whined, your hands grabbing for him, pulling him up to you, overstimulation starting to come over you as he continued his movements. You were begging for him to fuck you. “Please fuck me.” He stood up, his big dark brown eyes looking into yours made your heart skip a beat. He came closer to you sliding his hands around your body. Your chest still heaving from your orgasm.The grip he had on your waist suddenly became so rough and sensual. Jude, his eyes glittering with satisfaction, leaned in and captured your mouth in a deep, possessive kiss

“Turn around, angel.” He whispered. You listened and jumped off the table eagerly, turning around. He pressed his body against yours behind you. “Bend over f’me.” The cheek behind the smile on this boy's face was insane. Like every moment in his life, he truly looked beautiful. You felt your heart almost stop. pushing your ass back on him leaning over onto the pool table. You hummed feeling his hard cock against you. He dragged his tip leaking precum over your soaked pussy. Feeling him press his cock against your clit had you immediately whining. You moaned involuntarily closing your eyes as he buried himself all the way down to the hilt. “Such a good girl f’me” He cooed as the warm lighting illuminated your soft skin. “Fuck, you’re so fucking tight f’me.” He grunted, spreading your ass cheeks with both hands. He thrusted into you again as you clenched around him tightly. You were babbling as he pounded you from behind. He slapped your ass hard, the sound joining the wet sounds of you connecting filling the room. You whined practically drooling onto the felt. That’s when he hit a spot that made you lose control of your body and words. Another high swiftly crashed over you. You were a trembling mess pressing your hips back into him for more. Jude groaned, throwing his head back, digging his hands into the soft skin of your ass. Your walls pulsating around him. You were dripping down your shaking legs. He thrusted a few more times into you knocking all the air out of your lungs until he spilled into you. “Fuck, f-fuck, fuckk baby.” He grunted as you both felt him pulsing and spurting inside of you. Both of your releases oozing out of you. You both breathed heavily trying to catch your breaths as you slowly came down from your highs. He pulled your body off the table top up to him. He wrapped his arms around you so tightly.

“We need to get upstairs… right now.” You giggled out of breath. The reality of the possibility of Denise coming downstairs was settling in. Jude agreed but only laughed still moving about the room at a leisurely pace whilst you scrambled throwing his clothes back at him trying to get him to hurry.

•

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

Next part - Chapter 6 - Footballers xx

#jude bellingham fanfic #jude bellingham x reader #jude bellingham imagine #jude bellingham #jude bellingham smut

149 notes · View notes

ox-imagines · 6 months ago

Text

Tokyo Debunker as Romance Tropes

Feel free to ask me to write a longer imagine/oneshot for any of these!

Pt. 7 | Obscuary

Pt. 1 | Pt. 2 | Pt. 3 | Pt. 4 | Pt. 5 | Pt. 6

Rui - Forbidden Love

You see Rui around campus fairly often in your time at Darkwick, and you think he’s wonderfully handsome and always seems to be in a good mood. You finally get the chance to properly meet him in the cafeteria one day when you turn around and almost run into him. He panics a bit and steps away from you quickly, which you interpret as a bit of a rude overreaction since you didn’t even actually touch him. He quickly apologizes and tells you he runs a bar on campus, inviting you to come let him make you a drink to make up for his reaction (hastily adding that the majority of the drinks he makes are in fact non-alcoholic). You take him up on his offer and find that he’s actually wonderful company, and he seems to quite like you too, though you’re not completely convinced he’s not just a flirt. Even so, you find yourself spending a good deal of time at his bar, talking to him late into the night, and after getting back to your dorm you usually message him on WickChat once he’s closed the bar down. You know you’ve gotten close with him, he genuinely seems to appreciate and enjoy your company and doesn’t seem to have many people he’s actually close with, but over time you feel like he’s starting to pull away. One night while there’s no one else at the bar and you’ve finally got his full attention again, you give in to your feelings and ask him out. You sincerely think you’re in love with him, and want nothing more than to hold him close while you talk rather than being on different sides of campus texting each other in the middle of the night. When you ask him out, his expression turns oddly sad, a look on his face you couldn’t have imagined he could make. He corrects it and gives you a polite, lopsided smile, but his eyes belie how he really feels as he lets you down easy.

“Look, there’s, there’s something I need to tell you. I can’t be with you, not in a way that’s more than what we already are. You ever notice how I always avoid touching you? Im cursed; I don’t want to hurt you. I’m sorry…”

Lyca & Ed - Vampire vs Werewolf

Lyca is a newly integrated student who’s having some trouble adjusting to his new life. It doesn’t help, though, that the other students treat him poorly or differently since he’s a werewolf. You see him for the person he is rather than his supernatural afflictions and treat him as such, working to help him fit in better with the human students. He ends up protective and a bit possessive of you and treats you like you’re the most important person in the world (of course besides Subaru, who was his first friend, and a man named Neros who you’ve gathered basically raised him). Things are going well until one of his dormmates comes into the picture. He’s complained about him before, and the first few times you visit their dorms Ed stays closed in his room. After your classes, you head over to Obscuary to find Lyca; he hasn’t been answering his WickChat today. When you get there, Ed’s door is open. You can’t help but cast a curious glance inside as you walk past to Lyca’s room. After all, you’ve never seen a real vampire. He’s gorgeous, with porcelain skin and well-kempt hair framing sparkling red-violet eyes. A small gasp leaves your lips and his sharp eyes flick up from his computer to meet yours. He grins, his expression a mixture of devilish and curious, and he rises elegantly and gets to his door surprisingly quick. You think to yourself that it’s good for Romeo’s ego that Ed acts like a hermit, because he has an enrapturing beauty about him that could definitely rival Romeo. Ed gets almost uncomfortably close, and you have a suspicion that he’s… smelling you? When Lyca hears Ed talking to someone, he quickly comes out of his room, placing himself between the two of you. His big silvery ears showing and flattened back angrily, he spits threats at Ed to stay away from you, but Ed just chuckles, winking at you before backing into his room. It doesn’t take long for you to realize this is your life now, Ed making sly, often suggestive comments and subtle advances and Lyca losing it with him over it.

“Don’t you look like a vision today? Any special reason?”

“I swear you moth-eaten Casanova, touch her again and I’ll rip your hand off myself!”

#tokyo debunker #tdb #tokyo debunker x reader #obscuary #rui mizuki #edward hart #lyca colt #I couldn’t not put Ed’s and Lyca’s together I had to do it to ‘em #I made the header picture for this one myself too bc there wasn’t one 🤪

229 notes · View notes

aetherialavenger · 3 months ago

Text

Another thought about mouthwashing

The premise of a game where you are a space ship captain traversing the stars with your crew only to become stranded sounds like such an interesting and exciting tale.

The game, however, hammers home the reality of this once fanciful idea by showing that youre a glorified space trucker, your crew is here to do the bare minimum (make sure no one dies and the ship still functions).

Suddenly, the glittering prospect of exploring the stars is cast in the muck and grime of corporate dawdling. You aren't here to have fun. You dont get to see the world outside. This is a job. You signed away years of your life in a metal box where you get to experience none of the fantasy of navigating space.

Even the captains of this ship aren't allowed to see the stars. The most they do is make sure the ship doesn't crash because autopilot just mustn't be reliable enough. No wonder curly felt his entire life might go to waste. What experiences did he have to show for it? Staring at a screen with rudimentary representations of the world outside? He couldn't possibly even describe an asteroid he saw once.

Think about that.

A spacefarer with years of experience under his belt who couldn't describe the stars, the nebulas, the planets, or asteroids to anyone excited enough to ask.

All you can speak about are the miles of crates, bags of powders that you ate, and the thousands of company posters that blur together into one degrading message of "you be a good worker, now!"

I'd want out, too.

#mouthwashing #captain curly #space flight

138 notes · View notes

themousefromfantasyland · 1 month ago

Text

Hot take: The talking Animals in Wicked are a better metaphor for marginalized communities than the Mutants in X-Men.

Yeah, I know that in the Marvel Universe most of the Mutants aren't as powerful as the X-Men, but they keep adding so many Mutants with god-like powers that it's hard to believe this community can be realistically oppressed by everyday humans.

To be fair, this is true to all other productions that try to use super or magic powers as a metaphor for being in a oppressed community.

Remember those films that put the obviously attractive actors in plain or just ugly clothing to say that these characters are plain?

The super powers as a metaphor for marginalization is this but with a whole group or race.

But the Animals in Wicked are different.

They are not powerful, they are not special, they are not glamorous. They are not the dreamy characters that the audience wants to project themselves into.

Being an animal doesn't give you good looks or superhuman abilities. Being an animal doesn't make your life easy, especially when you live in a society dominated by humans.

First, they don't look human at all, which turns easier to demonize and scapegoat them. They are almost a too easy target for humiliation and ostracism.

And second, the fact that most of them lack hands with opposable thumbs, means that the whole infrastructure of Oz has to be adapted in order for them to live in society. This puts them into a disabled category, and we all know how cold and even downright malicious a society can act towards anyone with a disability.

Also, I love how Wicked: Part I casts the humans.

There are POC EVERYWHERE, and this serves this message about prejudice and systematic oppression in several ways.

Not only this avoids typecasting POC as the perfect victims to appease white guilt, it shows that nobody is immune to propaganda.

It shows that ANYONE can be perpetrator of systemic violence. No one is immune to be part of oppressed or to be part of the oppression of others.

@ariel-seagull-wings @the-blue-fairie @princesssarisa

#wicked 2024 #wicked #x men #oppression #marginalized communities #land of oz

103 notes · View notes

berzahoes · 1 year ago

Text

sing a song for you | tom blyth

summary: reader is on tour with hozier as his opening act and debuts a new song that tom helped write

an: yes this was because i am listening to hozier right now.

tom had taken some time off from doing interviews to finally attend one of your shows, well your opening act since you were on tour with one of your favorite artists, hozier. thankfully the show was near his brooklyn apartment so he didn’t have to drive far. he messaged you a couple of times but he knew you wouldn’t respond since you were busy preparing for the show.

when it was finally time to leave, tom made sure his apartment was locked and drove to the venue. as he parked his car, he quickly texted the cast group chat that he had arrived since rachel, josh and hunter were also attending. rachel texted back saying they were getting merch and that she had bought him one of your shirts.

before he could put his phone away, you called. “hey, i just arrived. rachel, josh and hunter are getting shirts.” he spoke into the phone.

“i could’ve given them free shirts. remind me to send them stuff later. sorry i didn’t text back. i just had the best conversation with beth about fleabag.” beth was your best friend and also your guitarist.

“you will take any opportunity to talk about fleabag and i love it.” tom smiled as he walked to the venue. he saw multiple people wearing homemade and official merchandise with your lyrics or logo and it made him happy.

“so i actually have a really important question.” you said.

“yes, love?”

“remember the song we made when you were filming billy the kid? i talked with the record label and it’s going on the next album,” you continue. “but i want to sing it tonight and the band said it was okay. and i want to ask you permission if it’s okay for me to sing it.”

“love, it’s your song. you don’t have to ask.” tom chuckled.

“yeah, but this song is half you half me. you’re getting writing credits on album, not just the song, tom. you helped a lot.” you reply.

“so does this mean if you win a grammy for the album, i will too?” he teased. “sing our song, i would be honored to hear you sing our song for the first time.”

“i love you.” you said then hung up.

“hello all of you lovely people!” you spoke into the microphone. the crowd cheered, tom being one of the many people that yelled the loudest. “you’ve been such a great crowd that i thought it would be a good time to sing a song that has never been heard by anyone other than me and the love of my life. he’s here tonight by the way along with our friends.”

you could feel yourself blush as tom yelled “i love you!”

“i love you more,” you replied. “he and i wrote this song in a day on the set of his show. thank you for being such a great crowd and i hope you all love this song as much as i loved writing it with my husband.” you smiled. you and tom would often call each other husband and wife even though you weren’t legally married. it was just a habit.

“that’s my wife!” tom yelled. rachel had gotten her phone out to record the performance and, of course, tom’s reaction.

watching the video that you sent me. the one where you’re showering with wet hair dripping

tom was amazed at your talent. he looked around the venue and saw how everyone was so focused on you. he then started to mumble the lyrics. he liked how you two were the only ones who knew the lyrics. it was your special moment. rachel had turned the camera from you to tom and noticed how in love tom looked. it was clear that you and tom were soulmates.

#tom blyth one shot #tom blyth fanfic #tom blyth imagine #tom blyth x reader #coriolanus snow #tbosas #the ballad of songbirds and snakes #billy the kid #tom blyth #tom blyth fanfiction #singer!reader

672 notes · View notes

gurugirl · 1 year ago

Text

The Ex | ex!harry

Summary: Harry's your ex-lover and you see him at a wedding after many years apart. You're both married but Harry proposes something that you have a hard time saying no to.

A/n: This will have a jucier, alternative ending but you'll only find it on Patreon! I consider this Tumblr version to be what happens in 'real life'. Enjoy!

Word Count: 3435

Warning: 18+ only, mentions of smut, emotional cheating, angst

You had no way of knowing he’d be there. But then again, he also had no clue that you would be there either.

You spotted one another right away. It was as if by magic something had drawn your eyes to his. He was already casting his gaze toward you, those soft green eyes taking you in as he held the hand of the woman to his right.

Your heart skipped a beat and looking at him again after all those years felt like there hadn’t been a day that aged him. He looked just as youthful and vibrant and handsome as ever. Dark curls placed carefully on top of his head in a flattering style, broad shoulders, a slender waist, and nicely fitted pants showing off what you remember being very sturdy and masculine thighs.

“Oh! Here are our seats!” Your husband, Les, spoke from your side and pulled at your hand, drawing your attention back to where it belonged.

You shook yourself of the direction your thoughts had been headed just before. What good did it do to remember how things were once upon a time? When you were young and in college, no kids or a career… things had been so different back then. And seeing your ex, the man you thought you’d marry, the one you thought would be by your side until you grew old and ugly…

“Are you okay, babe?” Les asked you with concern on his face.

“I’m fine… yeah! Just looking around and seeing a bunch of old faces. People I haven’t seen in years.”

You were at a friend’s wedding. Someone you, by some miracle, had stayed in touch with since high school. You had grown apart from Seria over the years but she still invited you to her wedding and you couldn’t imagine missing it even though you had to find an overnight sitter for your two kids and drive five hours to a different state to attend. Something told you it would be worth it.

You turned slowly to glance around the room again, your wine glass in hand and caught his eye again. The woman he was seated next to was as lovely as she was when you first met. You remembered her. She was in your senior graduating class. An acquaintance. Someone that Harry had grown close to but that you hadn’t gotten to know all that well. At first, her presence didn’t threaten you. But after you all graduated she and Harry became inseparable and he slowly began spending less time with you and more time with her. They had a lot in common, as you recall. They were both music majors, they’d write music together and play at bars in tiny scraped-together bands occasionally.

You found out on accident about how serious he was about her. No one thought you didn’t know.

You had visited a mutual friend’s apartment and stopped in for tea and a little chat. Sarah had a whiteboard hung up on her front door, facing the inside. People would write on it. Doodle pictures, scrawl their names in different colors, or just leave funny messages.

You didn’t take note of the whiteboard at first but when you sat down on Sarah’s couch you looked up at it and saw what had been written in black with red hearts all around.

harry + ginny = really good stuff

It took you a moment to let it all sink in after you saw that. You and Sarah made small talk but you couldn’t stop thinking about what was written on the whiteboard. And the hearts all around it told you it meant more than just something friendly. So you had to interrupt and ask, “Is that… my Harry?” You already knew the answer.

Sarah followed your gaze to the whiteboard and she let out a small gasp, “Oh! I forgot that was there. Are you okay about all this? I know it’s still fresh. You and Harry were together for years.”

“Am I okay about what? What’s fresh?” You began to feel yourself tremble and your heart was racing. You were suddenly having a hard time taking in any new information because it all came crashing down on you at that very moment. The reality of what was going on. You were the last to know about Harry and Ginny. He hadn’t even had the balls to break it off with you first.

You hardly remember leaving Sarah’s apartment after she told you that they’d been dating, and from what she said, rather openly. No one had bothered to talk to you about it. Everyone just assumed you knew.

Of course, you went directly to Harry’s apartment and found Ginny there already. They hadn’t been doing anything bad when you barged in. Ginny was on his couch with a notebook in hand and Harry was on the floor with a guitar in his arms.

He looked up at you from his spot on the floor and it’s like you blacked out. You can’t quite recall what was said but in the end, he wound up telling you the truth. That he’d fallen in love with Ginny and he was going to tell you soon but that he didn’t know how because he didn’t want to hurt you.

After that, you still saw Harry. He was part of your friend group and so it was inevitable that you’d run into him from time to time. After a couple of years, things were fine between you two and you’d met Les. You’d both moved on. Things had changed. And then you moved away with Les and you got pregnant, twice, and now six years later, here you were again looking at the man who once was your everything. He’d broken your heart but you were both so young and dumb back then that it was all but forgotten.

The past was the past, but you could still feel that small clench in your heart at how things had ended with Harry.

More drinks were drunk, snacks were served, and dancing commenced… the night was fun. Les was hilarious. He was an awful dancer but he insisted on taking you to the floor with him. You both laughed and swayed to the music in the crowded spot in the hall designated for dancing.

And as much fun as you were having you couldn’t stop thinking about or catching glimpses of Harry. It appeared he couldn’t get you off his mind either. It was rather flattering in a way. To have him looking at you from across the room. The subtle smiles and nods. You felt really good about keeping your distance, though. Even though at the very end of everything, you and Harry were on good terms and had been friendly, it had been so long. Too long. You felt there was no use in having a chat. Nothing good would come of it. You’d grown apart. Lives took separate paths. Old exes at a wedding had no good reason to catch up when you’d likely never see one another ever again. It was easier to stay away. Better for everyone.

Les ordered another round of whatever he’d been drinking and suddenly wasn’t feeling so hot. You both sat at your table with a couple of the other guests who were still there. Many were dropping like flies, as tends to happen at weddings. Luckily the hotel was connected to the reception hall so getting Les to your room was not that difficult.

You knew you should have stayed with him. Just called it a night and tucked in for your early morning back home to pick up your children. But against your better judgment, you decided on just one more drink.

The band was still playing, slower music than when you’d left. Most of the tables were empty as people mingled and danced slowly. You sat at the bar and searched the room for Harry. You figured he and Ginny had gone to their room, or back home depending on how far away they lived from the venue. It was nearly midnight. The band would wrap up in a half hour and that would be that.

You sighed and turned back to face the bar and sipped your last glass of wine of the night. You’d said your hellos to everyone you wanted to. Except Harry. Deep down you really did want to say hi to him but you knew better. There was something that was telling you to keep your distance and you were glad for it. Maybe it was subconscious or perhaps there were still feelings there after all this time. You knew the truth. But you weren’t ready to admit any of that to yourself.

“Hi, Sunshine.”

You felt a wave of heat and excitement thrum through your bones. It was him. He used to call you Sunshine. Sunny. Used to sing You Are My Sunshine to you every day.

You turned to see Harry taking the chair next to you at the bar, “Hi, Harry.”

You took him in. All of his handsome face. Those pink lips you used to nibble, the nose you used to smush yours into for wispy nose-tip kisses. His intense gaze was just as it had been all those years before. You wanted to reach your fingers out and stretch them over his jawline and feel the stubble on the pads of your fingers. He was so grown up. So unchanged and yet more mature. More handsome in some ways.

He drew his arm along the back of your chair and leaned in close as he spoke to you as if you two were a couple. As if nothing had ever come between you nearly 8 years prior, “You are more beautiful than I even remember, Sunny. Not a day goes by that I don’t think about you at least once.”

You hadn’t expected him to let that be his leading comment. The first thing spoken to you in so long. But Harry didn’t follow conventions or rules. He never had. So it shouldn’t have surprised you that his first comment to you was how he thought about you every day. You wondered if that was true. Because there were days you thought about Harry still too. It wasn’t every single day. Some days he didn’t cross your mind at all. But of course, you did often think of him.

“I doubt that, Harry. You’re still big on flattery, I see,” you smiled shyly and peeled your eyes away from his to sip your wine.

When his thigh brushed into yours you could smell his cologne. It was different than what he wore in college. It was more grown up. Smelled expensive. Smelled more like something Harry should wear, “I wrote a song about you not too long ago. Ginny doesn’t know, but it brought back a lot of old memories.”

His voice was soft and deep and the timbre traveled from your ear down to your neck and your bare shoulder. You swallowed thickly and dared to turn to look at him again, knowing he was too close. Knowing what this would look like if anyone were to see you two.

“Where is Ginny?”

Harry’s small grin widened and his eyes sparkled as he looked down at your lips and shook his head, “In our room. She was tired. Just like I imagine Les is in yours.”

You blinked and looked away. You were flying too close to the sun, you knew it. This was dangerous territory and Harry was orchestrating something very wrong. Something you’d only regret. But you weren’t doing anything to stop it. Maybe curiosity had you sticking around. Maybe it was for old time’s sake. Or maybe it was just that you missed him and missed this and missed the way things had been.

You didn’t know how to respond but your body was on fire. Harry’s warm leg was pressed into yours and his large frame practically had you caged in. You loved it.

“Look at me, Sunshine,” he whispered as he softly touched your chin and nudged your face toward his, “There we go. Remember that time we loaded up my old Bronco and drove straight through to San Francisco? Thought we were gonna find an apartment and live like hippies in the big city and just write and paint and make music and that’s how we’d make all our money?”

You laughed and nodded, “I do. But instead, your Bronco broke down in Oakland at 3 am and we had to stay the night in the back of your car and get a tow back home.”

Harry laughed through his nose as he nodded his head, eyes still pinned to yours, “Wish it would have worked out between us. I miss all the fun we used to have. Me and you.”

You opened your mouth to respond but you were stuck. He was laying it on thick. He was never one to beat around the bush. He hadn’t changed. It was part of what drew people to him. His magnetism. His confidence.

“Don’t you miss it, Sunny?” He brushed his knuckle over your wrist and you inhaled sharply. Just the smallest touch had you spiraling. You would have to fight your way out of his trance if you intended on not allowing this to go any further.

You shook your head and looked down at your lap, “I don’t know, Harry.”

“We’d stay up all night making love until the sun came up. Miss classes. Skip out on parties we promised people we’d go to. Just in our own world all the time. It never got boring with you. For years we were like that. It’s never been like that with anyone else. All that passion we had, Sunny. My Sunshine girl. Never.”

You sighed and… yes. You did recall all that passion. And it was true. For nearly four years you and Harry were insatiable. It was like every day was your first date. Your first time. Like you were still getting to know one another after all those years. Sex had never been better. Harry was your best by far. You didn’t like to compare anyone to him but that’s only because it made you miss him. Made you miss the way you felt. Missed that lust and that passion and the vulnerability.

“I know you know what I mean,” Harry slid his hand down to your thigh discretely. No one in the room could see but you knew he was touching you in a way you hadn’t felt in so long. In a way that was only reserved for your husband. Felt that familiar, big palm spread over the expanse of your soft thigh, his thumb lightly grazing the bottom hem of your dress.

“Harry…” you breathed his name in warning.

“My Sunshine, girl,” he spoke the pet name back to you without an ounce of teasing. He was perfectly clear in what he wanted. And even though he hadn’t said it outright, there was no denying it.

“I’m married.” You reasoned weakly as you let your gaze rove his features and drop to his plush lips.

“So am I.” He squeezed your thigh and your limbs were on fire. You didn’t know how to escape the moment. You didn’t know if you wanted to. He was “the one who got away”. Even though everything hurt when it happened and he’d done you wrong, you’d long ago forgiven him and now it was just two old lovers feeling that same heat and desire they once felt. Some things from the past could be forgotten. But the way things felt between you, that constant spark, the wild lust every single day for all those years would never be forgotten.

You still dreamed about him. Would wake up hot and panting and roll over to see Les fast asleep with his face tucked into his pillow and you’d close your eyes and remember the time… Remember his voice and his hands and the way he made you feel. How free and exciting life was with Harry.

And it was all coming back to you in an insane, surreal, mind-bending rush. Everything about him was the same as it was before you graduated college. Before he fell for Ginny. Before you two grew apart and you got married and moved away. You could almost taste the skin on his hips near his laurel tattoos. Could smell the scent of his sex mixed with yours. Could hear the laughs and the moans and neighbors beating on the wall telling you to keep it down. Could feel the way you loved him once upon a time, the way he loved you so deeply it scared you. Loved you so much you never could imagine that he’d ever love another.

“You’ve lost your fucking mind,” you whispered with a grin.

He shook his head, “I’ve never been more clear-headed in my life.”

You licked your lips and closed your eyes. Every time you thought you’d wake up from the dream you felt him move against you, felt his fingers on your skin and you were continuously dropped down into your seat at the bar at your friend’s wedding with your ex at your side and his words snaking into your ears.

The only thought that kept you grounded was knowing that there was nowhere for him to take you that was private. Because that had already, obviously, crossed your mind. To have another taste. One last time just for old-time’s sake. But it seemed impossible. It seemed ridiculous to even entertain. And yet there you were.

“Remember that small room with the table and chair on the second floor of the library we used to go to? Had a lock,” Harry’s warm hand stayed on your thigh as he spoke.

You did remember that. You found a room in the 2nd-floor corridor that connected to a small hallway off the library. The hallway had four doors. They were all locked but one of them just so happened to unlock if you lifted the knob upward and jiggled it just right. The room was bare of furniture except a small wooden table pushed against the wall and a fabric swivel chair with wheels. Both of which you learned to make good use of. It wasn’t hard to find a use for random surfaces with Harry back then.

Nodding and squinting your eyes at the man you spoke, “Of course I do.”

“I want to get you alone in a room again,” he lowered his voice and leaned in so that his voice was close and the front of his shoulder was pressed into the back of yours, “Just one more time. Something just for you and me, Sunny. I miss you.”

You couldn’t believe the way he’d gotten you worked up in almost no time. The way you still reacted to him and the need crawling up your spine made you dizzy.

“There’s no place to go here, Harry. No free room. We can’t anyway… you know we can’t,” you looked at his face and held your breath. You couldn’t do this. It was wrong.

“We can find something. A hidden spot where no one will ever know.”

You looked away from his fierce gaze and down at your glass. You swallowed thickly and shook your head as you reluctantly pulled yourself from his side and stepped off the stool, “Harry. We can’t. I have kids. My husband is… I love him. I don’t love you anymore. I could never forgive myself.”

He clenched his jaw as he nodded, “No one would know.” He looked at you with pleading eyes. You could tell he knew this wasn’t going to happen.

“I would know,” you dropped some cash on the bar and looked back at Harry as you squeezed his shoulder, “But it does feel good to know that you regret replacing me with someone else even after all this time.”

As you walked away you took a deep breath and smiled to yourself. You could have said yes. Could have found yourself in some room or bathroom stall with him getting exactly what you knew he could deliver. But you didn’t regret saying no. You didn’t regret walking away from him. It felt good to have the upper hand. Something you had no idea that you’d had all along. The man who you thought you’d lost really turned out to be the man who’d lost you.

Find the other version with the alternative ending here on my Patreon!

Feedback/Thoughts | Ko-fi | Main Masterlist | Patreon

Thank you for reading! I appreciate any support so remember to comment, reblog, & like 💕

Tags: @michellekstyles @yousunshineyoutempter @tenaciousperfectionunknown @golden-hoax @swiftmendeshoran @luvonstyles @tiaamberxx @lukesaprince @dirtytissuebox @closureesny @justlemmeadoreyou @itsgigikay @angelbabyyy99 @lllukulele @lanadelharry @novasblogofstuff @gills-lounge @damnasstyles @malwtilda @walkingintheheartbreaksatellite @0oolookitsme @babybunharry @anothermannharry @love-letters-to-uranus @itjustkindahappenedreally @kelly-fushiguro345 @ssaama @onlyangellucifer @harryistheonlyoneforme @butdaddyilovehim-hs @reveriehs @lc-fics @mema10 @carmenxharry @tswiftsangel @hannahdressedasabanana @babegoalsreads

857 notes · View notes