#he's exactly the kind of messy bitch i love to write
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allgoodnamesrgoneee ¡ 13 hours ago
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could you do a long smut where Jude and Reader are dating and she's just extremely innocent and that turns Jude on, but at the same time he wants to corrupt her, he wants to protect her innocence. The reader sits on his lap or is always wearing short clothes (as she is inside the house) and he can't take it anymore... one time, they are kissing and Jude loses control, he gets on top of her and kisses her with desire and So she's all confused because she feels strange, like she's never felt before and she wants more, but Jude gets off her right away and he's so hard and the reader can't help but watch that with curiosity... they don't They talk about Aquil, but as the days go by, she notices that he doesn't want to kiss her and always pushes her away and this makes her sad and she decides to talk to him about it... he is frank with her saying that she is extremely innocent and that the things he wants to do to her have destroyed her innocence; She says she trusts him and wants to go all the way with him (even though she doesn't know exactly what to do) and then Jude takes her virginity, being extremely careful and always asking if she's sure. Reader stares in fascination upon seeing him naked for the first time and Jude can't help but be enchanted by how adorable she is. She had never felt that way, Jude's hands are all over her body and when Jude enters her, no matter how much it hurts, it makes her feel so good (please could you put dirty talk in that, I'm just a bitch about Jude being naughty and talking dirty)
I finally did it! After two weeks of writing, I’ve finished this project! This is the longest fic I’ve ever written, and I poured my heart into it as an apology for my long absence. If you notice any repeated scenes… well, that’s because I wrote this over two weeks, and my memory is about as reliable as a goldfish’s. Plus, I was way too tired to edit. I tried to stick to the request as much as I could but my imagination got carried away.
-Much love, Bianca 🌻
Inocencia
Masterlist
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𝒔𝒖𝒎𝒎𝒂𝒓𝒚 — In which you and Jude are soulmates.
𝒑𝒂𝒊𝒓𝒊𝒏𝒈 — Jude Bellingham x you
𝒘𝒐𝒓𝒅 𝒄𝒐𝒖𝒏𝒕 — 24.2k
Warnings! FLUFF! Jude is so soft with her, he's so in love, insecurities, first love, established relationship, this is the softest thing I've ever written, slight angst for the plot (nothing serious), NSFW! SMUT (18+), corruption kink, virgin reader, first time, unprotected vaginal sex, oral sex (f & m receiving), fingering, soft sex, multiple orgasms, dom!Jude, sub!reader, a little surprise at the end for y'all
Growing up, your life wasn’t just structured; it was scripted.
A carefully choreographed routine, every step dictated by expectations you had no hand in setting.
Your parents didn’t ask for much, just obedience, and you learned quickly that nodding and murmuring yes was easier than explaining the no lodged in your throat. Childhood wasn’t about exploration; it was about perfection. Whims were traded for polished manners, because mistakes were lessons learned the hard way.
Mornings began with perfectly made beds and meticulously crafted schedules, while evenings were reserved for review sessions of tests you wouldn’t take for weeks. Every minute of the day was accounted for, leaving little room for anything but perfection.
So you became a master of disguise.
The messy, loud, imperfect parts of you? Those were hidden away, locked behind a wall of politeness and precision. You never thought to question it. This was life, wasn’t it?
At school, the contrast was striking.
Your classmates had lives that seemed so chaotic, so mesmerisingly beautiful. At least to you. You dreamed of being like them. Of joining the dance team, of skipping class, of reading books that your mother didn't pick out for you.
They had the kind of freedom you couldn’t fathom. They whispered about parties that ended at sunrise, secret crushes, first kisses stolen under streetlights. You listened, fascinated but silent. Rules first, fun later.
But "later" had a funny way of never showing up.
And then came Charlie.
You first met her on orientation day, a whirlwind of awkward introductions and icebreakers that felt anything but natural. Later, you discovered she was your roommate.
At first, you weren’t sure what to make of her. Charlie was… a lot.
At first glance, she seemed like someone you might not click with—her energy almost too big for the room, her laugh too loud for the small spaces you preferred to inhabit. But Charlie wasn’t the kind of person you could easily dismiss. She had a way of pulling you into her orbit before you even realized it.
She was the type to breathe chaos into order, and somehow, it felt exhilarating instead of terrifying.
Her hair was perpetually tousled, like she’d just stepped out of a convertible, and her eyeliner was smudged in a way that teetered between effortlessly cool and slightly rebellious. Charlie didn’t believe in plans or schedules. She just lived.
And that scared you as much as it fascinated you.
Charlie’s world was the opposite of yours. Plans? Schedules? Those were foreign concepts to her. She moved through life with a kind of chaotic grace, unburdened by rules or the need to please anyone. It wasn’t just her confidence that drew you in; it was her freedom, the way she seemed to exist without fear of judgment.
So when she begged—insisted—you come to her boyfriend’s birthday party, you barely had time to think up an excuse. “It’s downtown,” she said, practically vibrating with excitement. “You never go downtown. You’ll love it. Or hate it. But at least you’ll survive it. Please?”
You hesitated, of course. Clubs weren’t your thing. Loud music, strangers, flashing lights—it sounded like a nightmare. But Charlie had this way of pulling you out of your shell with sheer force of will.
And that’s how you ended up there.
The nightclub was chaos incarnate.
The music wasn’t just loud—it was alive, a relentless bassline that seemed to sync with your heartbeat and vibrate in your throat. The air was thick with perfume, cologne, sweat, and the faint tang of spilled drinks. Lights pulsed like strobes, casting sharp shadows and brilliant flashes over the crowd.
You clung to the drink Charlie had handed you—something neon pink and overly sweet—sticking to the edge of the dance floor, hoping to blend into the wallpaper. But, alas.
“Having Fun!” She had shouted over the music when she found you a half-hour later. Her smile was wide, her cheeks flushed from dancing.
“Yeah!” you’d shouted back, though you were far from it. Your feet ached from heels you regretted wearing the moment you stepped outside, and your head throbbed from the bassline that seemed to shake the very floor.
Charlie didn’t buy it, but she didn’t press. She just grinned and teased, “Loosen up! We're here to partayyyy!” before spinning back into the crowd.
Loosening up was easier said than done.
You stayed, partly out of stubbornness and partly because she’d promised burgers afterward. But the crowd didn’t get any less overwhelming, and the bass didn’t grow any quieter. Soon enough, the drinks you’d nervously sipped started making demands on your bladder.
Navigating the club was its own kind of ordeal, like threading a needle through a sea of moving bodies. By the time you reached the bathroom line, you were convinced the club had been designed by sadists who enjoyed watching people suffer in heels.
And that’s when you met him.
You were half-distracted, balancing your drink in one hand while trying to make your way through the packed hallway without spilling it. Your friends had already disappeared into the crowd, and you were craning your neck, trying to spot them, when you took the corner too sharply.
It happened fast. A solid wall—or at least that’s what it felt like—stopped you in your tracks. Your drink, the bright, sticky concoction it was, jumped out of your cup, splattering the pristine white shirt in front of you.
“Ah, no!” you yelped, realizing what you’d done as you stumbled back a step. The sound of your drink hitting fabric was followed by an awkward silence.
Your eyes shot up, wide with panic. “Oh my god, I’m so sorry!” The words tumbled out before you could think, your heart pounding like it might leap out of your chest.
The guy blinked, looking down at his now-ruined shirt, then back at you. For a split second, you braced yourself for anger, irritation, or some sharp comment that would make the whole situation worse. Like you were so used to. Your head instinctively bent, ready for the scolding you were sure you'd get.
But instead, he laughed—short and low but unmistakable.
“Guess I shouldn’t have worn white, huh?” he said, his accent soft, the words rolling off his tongue like he found the whole thing funny.
You blinked, caught off guard by his reaction. “I—uh—wait, let me—” You spun around, spotting a table nearby and snatching up a handful of napkins. Your hands were shaking as you turned back to him. Memories of fists and broken plates and your fault, your fault danced in the corners of your mind.
You pushed them away.
The napkins were gone before you knew it, your fingers flying over his shirt, trying to mop up the pink liquid. His brows furrowing in concern as he watched your panicked motions, but when he reached out to touch your wrist, you flinched.
“Hey,” he said gently, “it’s okay.” And you had to force yourself to relax into his grip. “Look, why don’t I go clean up in the bathroom real quick, and you can take a deep breath. I’m sure we can get the stain out.”
He stepped away, and you could feel your breath return in increments, your heartbeat slowing as he spoke. Your gaze followed him, watching the way his shoulders moved under the white fabric, now blotched with pink. He disappeared down the hallway, leaving you standing there, clutching a pile of sticky napkins, cheeks burning with embarrassment.
You wanted to melt into the floor, vanish into the neon lights and pounding music. Instead, you took a deep breath, like he’d suggested, and tried to shake off the lingering panic.
When he came back, his shirt was damp but clean enough, a faint pink stain barely visible. “See?” he said, grinning as he gestured to his shirt. “No harm done.”
You managed a small smile. “I’m still really sorry. I wasn’t paying attention.”
He shrugged, the movement easy, as if he genuinely didn’t care. “It happens. You okay?”
The question caught you off guard. “Me? Yeah, I’m fine. Why wouldn’t I be?”
He tilted his head, studying you for a moment. “I dunno. Just… you looked kinda spooked back there.”
“Nah, I was just worried about your shirt is all.” You could feel your cheeks start to flush, a mix of embarrassment and self-consciousness. “I didn’t mean to ruin it. I'm sorry.”
He grinned. “I told, it's cool. How about this,” He gestured toward the bar, where a long line snaked out into the crowded hallway, before continuing. “Next drink is on me. You game?”
You hesitated for a split second. This was the part where you should say no, walk away and find Charlie or the bathroom. This was the part where your mom would warn you against talking to strangers. And then you’d go back to your normal, structured life and forget the whole incident.
But something about him made you pause.
For some weird reason, you felt safe with him, which was strange because he was still a stranger. But then again, that’s life, right? Making mistakes? Learning by them? Trying things and seeing if they work out or not? Maybe it was time to do that.
Maybe it was time to try.
So you nodded. “Yeah.”
*******
Eight months. That’s how long it’s been, and somehow, he’s still just as captivating as the first day. Maybe even more so.
You’ve never felt anything like this before—not with anyone. The way Jude looks at you, the way he listens when you speak, it’s like he sees through the layers you’ve spent years building up. Sometimes, it’s unnerving, how easily he seems to read you, like your thoughts aren’t secrets at all, but something written in a language only he understands.
He’s everything you never thought you’d find in someone—charming in a way that feels effortless, patient when the shadows of your past make you falter, and protective in a way that doesn’t smother but shields.
It’s in the way he holds doors open without making it a spectacle, or the way his hand hovers near yours, like he’s waiting for you to reach out, to let him in. He never forces, never pushes—just waits.
And when you finally let him, it’s like coming home to something you never knew you needed.
He makes you feel precious, in a way that’s unfamiliar. His touch is careful, his words thoughtful. He treats you like something rare, something fragile—not because he thinks you’re weak, but because he doesn’t want to be the one to hurt you.
And that’s a feeling you never thought you’d know.
Not after growing up in a house where fists spoke louder than words, where anger lived in every corner. Where the man who should’ve been your protector was your first lesson in betrayal.
For so long, that was all you knew. Rage masquerading as love. Pain disguised as discipline. You’d convinced yourself that was all there was, that kindness and warmth were things meant for other people, not you.
But then Jude came along. And with him, the impossible became real.
He showed you that there are more ways to love than hurt. That there are words that could comfort instead of cut, that there were hands that could hold instead of slap. That maybe—just maybe—you deserved more than what you’d gotten.
He tells you things that make you feel like a goddess, a queen, a princess. That you’re the most beautiful thing he’s ever seen. That he could stare at you all day and never get tired of it. That he’s falling in love with you, and every word makes you fall even more in love with him too.
He calls you his princess, and it doesn’t make you cringe like you think it would.
You like it.
You love him.
********
The shrill buzz of your phone pulls you from your lecture notes, dragging your attention away from the professor’s voice. You squint at the screen, the light stark against the dimmed classroom. A text from Jude lits up your screen: “I’m outside.”
Your stomach flutters, a small smile creeping onto your lips. Quickly, you tap out a reply, “Coming” before stuffing your phone back into your bag.
The professor's voice drones on, giving out last-minute details about the upcoming assignment, but your focus has already shifted. You glance at the clock, your heart ticking a beat faster. With a whispered "thank you" as class concluded, you gather your belongings in a blur of movement, slinging your bag over your shoulder as you make your way to the exit.
The crisp air outside greets you, a welcome contrast to the stuffy classroom. It doesn't take long to spot him.
Jude leans casually against his car parked by the curb, his hoodie slightly wrinkled and joggers hanging just right. The late afternoon sun catches on the strands of his messy coils, highlighting the slight curve of his lips as he catches sight of you.
“Hey,” he calls, his voice carrying over the hum of campus life. He doesn't move at first, just stands there watching you, a playful glint in his eyes that make your cheeks warm.
You wave, suddenly hyperaware of the way your bag bounces against your side as you walk. By the time you reach him, his smile has softened into something warm and familiar, and before you can say a word, he reaches out, opening the passenger door with a fluid motion.
“You’re late,” he teases, though the way he leans forward to press a quick, soft kiss to your lips told a different story.
"Am not,” you reply, your voice mock-indignant as you slip into the seat.
Jude chuckles, closing the door behind you before circling around to the driver’s side. Once he slides in, he immediately reaches for your seatbelt, the motion so casual it makes your heart skip. His fingers brushes lightly against your arm as he clicks the buckle into place. It's such a small gesture, but it carries a kind of intimacy that leaves you momentarily breathless.
“Safe and sound,” he murmurs, sitting back and adjusting his grip on the steering wheel. His gaze flickers over to you, lingering for just a second longer than necessary. “You good?”
You nod, still caught in the warmth of his attention. “Yeah. You?”
“I’m better now,” he says, flashing a grin that is so unfairly charming it should be illegal. He starts the car, the low hum of the engine blending with the soft music playing from the speakers. “Hungry?”
You tilt your head, pretending to think. “Hmm. Is that a trick question?”
Jude huffs, his smirk faltering. “Smartass.”
“Yup,” you agree, grinning back.
He shoots you a look—playfully annoyed but still affectionate—and you giggle in response. It’s the kind of thing that happens so easily between the two of you—a sense of banter that doesn’t feel like fighting, just friendly sparring. It took a while for you to get used to them.
“I can cook tonight,” you offer, reaching for your phone as he eases out into traffic. “What do you want?”
He shrugs. “Whatever you want, babe.”
“Okay,” you murmur, scrolling through your messages to pull up Charlie's last text. You’d asked her if she was staying over at her boyfriend's, and she’d replied with a thumbs-up and a string of hearts. A smile crosses your lips as you tuck the phone away.
“We've got the apartment to ourselves tonight,” you say, settling back into your seat and gazing out the window. “If you still wanna come over, that is. I can make you dinner.”
Jude's smile turns languid. “You know I do, princess. I’m always up for food at your place.”
“Okay,” you murmur turning to look at the passing scene as the corners of his mouth quirk even higher.
*********
The apartment feels quieter than usual without Charlie.
Not in an uncomfortable way—just different. Her energy always filled the space, a constant buzz of chatter, music, and the occasional burst of laughter that never failed to make you smile. Without her, the silence feels oddly still, like the apartment itself is taking a deep breath.
You emerge from the bathroom wrapped in your fluffy pink robe, the one Charlie always teases you about but secretly adores. Your hair is slightly damp from your shower, loose strands sticking to your neck. The cool air from the air-conditioning brushes over your skin, and you shiver slightly as you step into the living room.
Jude is exactly where you left him, sprawled on the couch like he owns the place, phone balanced precariously on his knee.
His brows are drawn together in concentration, and his thumbs fly over the screen at a speed that seems almost superhuman. He’s clearly playing some game, utterly absorbed in whatever digital battlefield he’s dominating.
You tread softly across the room, the plush carpet muffling your footsteps. He doesn’t even glance up, so focused that he doesn’t notice you until you’re right in front of him. When you settle onto the couch beside him, the cushion dips under your weight, and only then does he stir.
“Hey, baby,” he murmurs, his voice warm and slightly distracted. His arm snakes around your waist without hesitation, pulling you into his side. His eyes stay glued to his screen, but his lips find the top of your head in a lazy, affectionate kiss that makes your heart flutter.
“Hi,” you reply, your voice soft as you lean into him. His embrace is as familiar as it is comforting, the warmth wrapping around you and sinking into your bones. He smells like fresh laundry and that woodsy cologne he always wears, the one that lingers on your clothes long after he’s gone.
For a moment, you just sit there, tucked against him as he plays.
His body is solid, a loving strength that you’ve come to rely on without even realizing it. You let out a contented sigh, your cheek resting against his shoulder. Jude glances at you briefly, his lips quirking into a small smile as he presses another kiss to your temple.
“You smell so good, baby. Like strawberries,” he remarks, his tone teasing but fond.
“It’s my shampoo,” you mumble, feeling the heat rise in your cheeks. His ability to fluster you with the simplest comments is as maddening as it is endearing to him.
“Smells good.” He pauses his game just long enough to tilt his head down, his nose brushing against your damp hair. “Smells like you.”
You bite your lip, the corners of your mouth twitching upward despite yourself. His charm is relentless, and even when he’s trying to be casual, it lands like a full-force assault on your heart.
For a while, the room settles into a comfortable silence.
Jude’s arm stays around you, holding you close as he continues indulging in whatever virtual madness is happening on his phone. You don’t mind.
The warmth of his body against yours, the faint clicking of his fingers against the screen, and the soft hum of the air conditioner create a soothing melody, lulling you to sleep. And for a second you forget about deadlines and responsibilities, if only for a little while.
But eventually, the nagging thought of midterms creeps back in, pulling you away from the comfort of Jude’s arm draped lazily around your shoulders. You shift slightly, sighing as reality nudges its way back in. “I should study,” you mumble reluctantly, already regretting the words as they leave your mouth. “Midterms are coming up, and I need to get a head start.”
Jude freezes mid-controller click, his focus snapping to you with a speed that’s almost comical. His brows knit together in concern as he sets the controller down and turns to you fully. “Do you need help?” he offers, his voice warm, eager, and so earnest it makes your chest ache. He sits up straighter, reluctantly moving his arm so you can wiggle free if you want to. “I could quiz you or something.”
The way his brown eyes lock onto yours tugs at you. For a fleeting moment, you consider saying yes—just to keep him close a little longer. His enthusiasm, the little crease of worry between his brows, all of it makes you want to say yes. But you’ve been here before.
You bite back a smile and shake your head. “You know how it goes when you help me study.”
“What?” His face splits into a boyish grin. “I’m great at helping.”
“You get bored,” you counter, raising an eyebrow at him.
His grin widens, the mischief in his eyes almost tangible. “I don’t get bored. I keep things interesting.”
“Interesting?” You scoff lightly, though your lips twitch at the corners. “You mean you start distracting me.”
“Distractions are good for you," he says, leaning in closer. His voice dips into that flirty tone that always seems to weaken your resolve. “Keeps your brain from overheating.”
You try to hold firm, crossing your arms as you fight the smile threatening to bloom. “Distractions,” you repeat, deadpan, “like kissing me every five minutes?”
“Only every five minutes?” he teases, his lips quirking upward. “I’m slacking. I’ll make it every two.”
You groan, covering your face with your hands as your cheeks flare with heat. “Jude, stop.”
“Why?” he murmurs, lowering his voice as he leans closer, his hand slipping over yours to gently tug them away from your face. “You’re cute when you get flustered.”
You feel your heart do a little somersault as he takes your hand, his thumb tracing slow, lazy circles over your knuckles. His touch is maddeningly gentle, and his gaze is soft yet playful. “Come on, let me stay. I promise I’ll behave this time. Swear on… well, on your favorite pen or something.”
“You said that last time,” you remind him, though your voice lacks the conviction you want it to have.
“And I meant it," he says with exaggerated sincerity. “But then you started doing that thing where you chew on your pen and look all smart and adorable. What’s a guy supposed to do?”
“Focus,” you say firmly, though your lips betray you by curving into a reluctant smile.
He chuckles, the sound low and rich, sending a little flutter through you. “Alright, alright. I’ll leave you to it.” He raises his hands in mock surrender, though his grin tells you he’s far from serious.
True to his word, he pulls himself away from you, standing and stretching lazily before grabbing his phone. But before he leaves, he leans down, brushing his lips against your forehead in a kiss so soft and lingering that it leaves you momentarily breathless.
“Good luck, baby,” he murmurs, his voice warm and sweet. “You’ve got this.”
The soft click of the door closing behind him echoes in the quiet room, and you let out a long breath, trying to steady the racing of your heart. Even now, minutes after he’s left, his presence lingers—his touch, his whispers, his look that leaves you feeling shy and disarmed.
You force yourself to turn back to your notes, determined to focus on the task at hand. For sixty blessed minutes, you manage to keep your head down and concentrate, letting the scratch of your pen on paper drown out the memory of his teasing grin.
But, as if summoned by your thoughts, he slips back into your space without so much as a sound. You only notice him when you feel the featherlight brush of his lips against the curve of your neck. A startled gasp escapes you, and your pen stills in your hand as his warm breath fans over your skin.
“How’s the studying going?” he murmurs, his voice low and laced with playful mischief.
Your pulse quickens, and you try to muster some semblance of composure. “Jude,” you whisper, his name barely audible as your voice falters at his closeness.
“Hmm?” He hums, the sound rumbling softly against your skin as his hands settle on your waist, fingers toying idly with the hem of your pajama top.
“You’re distracting me,” you manage, though the tremble in your voice betrays your lack of conviction. You're a little thankful for the break he's forcing you to take.
“Am I?” he asks innocently, slipping his hand ever so slightly under your top, his lips now brushing the sensitive spot just below your ear. You can feel the curve of his grin, knowing he’s completely aware of the effect he has on you.
You grip your pen tighter, clinging to the pretense of focus, but the heat of his palm against your skin and the teasing lilt of his voice unravel you piece by piece. Desperate for some distance, you push his chest gently, your face flaming as you turn to face him. “I’m going to cook dinner,” you declare, your tone firmer this time, though your skin betray you, burning with an unmistakable flush.
His brow arches, and for a moment, you think he might relent. But as you make your way to the kitchen, his footsteps trail right behind yours.
“You don’t give up, do you?” you ask, glancing over your shoulder, though the teasing lilt in your voice takes the sting out of the words.
“Not when it comes to you,” he replies smoothly, his grin utterly shameless as he catches up.
Once in the kitchen, you busy yourself with pulling out ingredients, determined to create a barrier between you and his relentless touching. But Jude, being Jude, is relentless in his own way. He's being very clingy today, more than usual.
As you start chopping vegetables, he edges closer, his chin coming to rest on your shoulder. His arms snake around your waist, pulling you back just slightly against his chest.
“Jude,” you warn, your voice firmer this time as you wave the knife in a small arc in his direction.
“Dangerous,” he quips, leaning back just enough to dodge your playful swat, though he’s far from deterred. “You’re cute when you’re dangerous.”
Your lips twitch despite yourself, and you let out an exasperated sigh. “You’re impossible,” you mutter, shaking your head as you try to focus on the task at hand.
He chuckles, a low, warm sound that sends shivers dancing down your spine. “Are you sure?” he teases, pressing a soft kiss to your shoulder before leaning in to whisper, “But you love it.”
“I do not,” you retort automatically, though your voice lacks any real heat.
“Liar,” he teases, and you can hear the grin in his voice even without looking.
You spin around, your cheeks warm as you glare at him—or at least try to. “I need to finish dinner. Either help or sit down.”
He raises his hands in mock surrender, though there’s no hiding the amusement in his expression. “Alright, alright. What do you need me to do, boss?”
You hand him a carrot, your lips quirking into a small smile despite yourself. “Peel this. And don’t distract me.”
“Can’t make any promises,” he says with a wink, but he takes the carrot anyway, grabbing a peeler from the drawer next to you.
For a few minutes, there’s an ease of peace as the two of you work side by side. He whistles softly under his breath as he peels glancing at you every now and then, and you chop in rhythm, the sounds of the kitchen filling the space. It feels so incredibly domestic and your thoughts start to drift to a future that you don't often dare to dream.
Is this what he would be like if we're married? you ask yourself. And deep inside, a part of you aches, and longs to find out.
But then, as you reach for the salt, his hand brushes yours, and you freeze, thoughts scrambling at his touch. He’s quick to close the distance again, his lips grazing the corner of your mouth in a kiss so fleeting you almost think you imagined it.
Your breath catches, and you stare up at him, wide-eyed and utterly flustered.
He smiles, his eyes crinkling at the corners, and for a second, you can’t think of anything to say.
“Jude,” you manage finally, though your voice is embarrassingly breathless.
“Hm?.” His fingers trace lazy patterns over the curve of your hip, sending little shivers through your skin. “You look so good like this,” he murmurs softly, his lips brushing against your hair, making you shiver. “In your little robe, making dinner for me. Fuck.” The last word comes out as a groan, and he buries his face into your neck.
The sensation of his breath against your skin sends a ripple through your body, leaving your muscles soft and weak. You lean into his embrace almost automatically, your palms flattening on the counter to steady yourself.
You can’t help the little gasp that escapes you as he nips at the curve of your neck, the touch sending sparks coursing through you.
You try to catch your breath, your cheeks warming with heat as your thoughts scatter. His hand trails higher up to rest on your stomach, leaving a trail of goosebumps in its wake, and you bite back a whimper. He’s being too bold, and it’s thrilling and terrifying and so, so good.
“Jude,” you stammer out finally. “We haven’t finished dinner yet.”
“I’ll survive,” he murmurs huskily, his tongue flicking over the sensitive skin behind your ear.
And before you can muster up a protest, he spins you around to face him, his grip firm and demanding on your waist. His lips land against yours without warning, all heat and pressure, and your breath stutters out of you as you cling to him, unable to do anything but hold on.
The kiss turns hot and breathless so fast it leaves you reeling, his tongue sweeping into your mouth in bold strokes that leave you dizzy.
Your lips part in response, inviting him deeper, and he takes you up on the offer with a low groan of pleasure. He presses you into the counter, the kiss so urgent it feels like he needs it to survive. Your skin flushes, your body humming with a need you’ve never known before.
It’s too much. It’s like a wildfire burning out of control, and Jude, Jude, Jude.
You’re not even sure what it is that you’re craving so desperately, but you know it involves him.
And when he pulls away abruptly, it feels like being dunked into an ice bath.
Your head spins, and for a moment, you can’t do anything but stare at him. Your breath is still ragged, your lips tingling, and the intensity of his gaze makes your heart stutter.
It’s dark, unreadable, and you feel like prey caught in the sights of a predator—not in a dangerous way, but in a way that makes you hyperaware of every inch of your body.
Your fingers tighten on the counter behind you, grounding yourself as the silence stretches between you. He looks like he wants to say something, but instead, he steps back completely, dragging a hand over his face in what feels like frustration. The absence of his warmth hits you immediately, leaving you feeling cold, exposed, and a little disoriented.
You lower your gaze, your cheeks burning, unable to meet his eyes. The apartment feels too quiet, too still, and when you finally dare to look up, he’s gone—retreating into the living room with an almost frustratingly casual stride.
Dinner is a blur after that.
You push food around your plate, barely tasting it, too caught up in the memory of his lips on yours, the way he’d kissed you like he couldn’t get enough. It leaves you feeling equal parts flustered and thrilled, and you hate how obvious it must be. Jude, of course, notices. He keeps sneaking glances at you, his smirk growing every time he catches you looking away too quickly or fiddling with the edge of your napkin. But he doesn't say anything.
After dinner, he suggests a movie. You agree, mostly because you don’t trust yourself to say no without stammering, and before you know it, you’re in your room. The lights are dim, the glow of the screen casting soft shadows across the walls. You sit beside him on the bed, your knees tucked up to your chest, trying not to focus on how close he is.
“Relax,” he teases, draping an arm over your shoulder. “I don’t bite. Unless you want me to.”
You swat at him, your face heating up. “Jude!”
He laughs, low and rich, and you feel the sound settle in your chest. “Alright, alright. I’ll behave.”
For a while, you focus on the movie. Or at least, you try to. Jude, apparently, has other plans. Somewhere halfway through the film, he shifts beside you, his arm tightening around your shoulders. You glance at him, confused, only to freeze when his lips brush against the side of your neck.
“Jude,” you whisper, your voice trembling.
“Hmm?” His voice is soft, playful, but there’s a heat to it that makes your stomach flip.
“I’m trying to watch,” you manage, though your resolve wavers as his hand finds your waist, pulling you closer.
“Am I distracting you?” he murmurs, his lips ghosting over your skin.
You nod, your breath hitching, but it only seems to encourage him. His kisses grow more deliberate, his hand sliding up to cradle your face as he tilts your head toward him. The movie is completely forgotten as his lips capture yours, and this time, there’s nothing hesitant about the way he kisses you.
This kiss is different than the one in the kitchen. This kiss is greedy and demanding, the type that makes you forget how to breathe. You melt into him without hesitation, your hand finding its way to his neck as he pulls you onto his lap.
He lets out a low groan that sends shivers down your spine, his hands coming to settle on your thighs. The kiss deepens, becoming something more, until the world narrows down to nothing but him. His touches are hot and firm, his mouth demanding in a way that leaves your head spinning.
It’s overwhelming.
His touch, his scent, the low hum of his voice when he whispers your name—it’s all too much and not enough at the same time. You’re hyperaware of everything: the way his hands skim your sides, the way his thumb brushes against your jaw, the way your own fingers curl into the fabric of his shirt as if anchoring yourself to him.
When a soft sound escapes you—half gasp, half moan—he freezes. His forehead presses against yours, his breathing heavy and uneven. Still lost in the haze of lust he's started to awaken in you, your lips chase his in a desperate pathetic attempt to keep him close, and you whine when he pulls back, the sound embarrassing you to no end.
“Baby,” he murmurs hoarsely, his voice the epitome of need and restraint. “Baby, you need to stop that.”
It’s only when you look up into his eyes that you realize how affected he is. His pupils are blown, his cheeks flushed, his breath quickening as he holds your gaze. The intensity of his eyes makes your stomach clench, but the effect is different this time—different in a way that you can’t quite place.
You stare at him for what feels like an eternity, searching for something, anything, to explain the strange flutter in your stomach.
His expression is unreadable, but as you sit there, chest heaving, thighs squirming restlessly on his lap, you feel something press into your inner thigh and Jude groans again, his head dipping to rest against your shoulder.
A little noise of surprise slips out of you, and before you can look down, he's flipping you over, pinning you to the bed with a groan.
“Fuck, baby. You don’t know how good you feel,” he whispers huskily, pulling back just long enough to let you breathe. The sight of him—so desperate, so needy, and so turned on—leaves you reeling.
Your heart is pounding, your pulse frantic in your ears as your body responds to his proximity. The feeling between your legs grows slick, the sensation almost strange enough to distract you from the weight of him above.
Jude must feel the way your body tenses because his voice drops, taking on a soothing quality that makes your muscles relax against him. “Shhh, baby. It’s alright.” He leans in, his lips trailing down the side of your neck to leave featherlight kisses there. “Relax.”
But the feeling of being pinned between him and the bed is overwhelming, and before he can kiss you again, you shift restlessly, trying to escape. He lets you get away, his hands following the curve of your sides as you sit up, his gaze roving over you hungrily.
Your cheeks heat, and your hands flutter over your stomach as if trying to find a way to hide yourself. “I—” you start, but then you stop, unsure of how to finish the sentence. “I’m sorry.”
The apology slips out of you automatically, though you’re not even entirely sure what you’re apologizing for.
Jude shakes his head, a wry smile tilting his lips upward. “Don’t be sorry,” he murmurs, leaning in to kiss your forehead softly. “I just…” He trails off, shaking his head again, though his smile turns into a smirk. “I want you so bad it’s driving me fucking crazy." His voice drops into a growl, his hands tightening on your thighs, and you gasp softly. "And it's—fuck. It's turning me on so much." He leans down, pressing you against the mattress once again, and your whine is audible.
“Jude…” you whisper, your voice quivering as your hands press against his chest in a weak attempt to create some distance. But your resolve falters when you meet his eyes—stormy and filled with a look that leaves you breathless. Hunger.
“Yes, baby?,” he murmurs huskily.
But you don’t get a chance to answer because his lips close over yours, pulling you into a kiss that’s everything and nothing you imagined a kiss to be. It’s urgent, hungry, and maddeningly sweet, and you cling to him without a second thought, your legs wrapping around his waist as if by instinct alone.
It feels like everything in the room blurs to nothing around the two of you, like the world has stopped turning.
The sensation between your legs turns wet, slick, and you can feel his hardness through the thin fabric of your shorts, the sensation both thrilling and overwhelming. He groans into the kiss, his hips rocking against you in a motion that leaves you gasping.
You feel so hot all of a sudden—like your whole body is on fire. Your thoughts scatter as you cling to his shoulders, his name on your lips, and it's like he's pushing you higher and higher.
The kiss becomes messy, teeth clashing, lips biting, his hands pulling at your shirt as if trying to pull it off. You’re completely lost to his touch, your body moving against his in a needy rhythm that feels like instinct alone.
But just when you think he might push you further, Jude pulls away abruptly with a sharp groan, his chest heaving as he buries his head against the curve of your shoulder. You’re left with your arms wrapped around his neck, your body trembling as you struggle to catch your breath.
“Fuck,” he mutters, the word hot against your skin. “Fuck, fuck, fuck.” His body shudders, his hips rocking forward once, then twice, then he's yanking himself off you like you've just burned him.
You try to hold him closer, but he's too strong and it only seems to make him pull away harder.
“Jude?” you ask, your voice trembling as your thoughts catch up. You’re breathless, your body aching for something you don’t even know how to ask for. ��What’s wrong?”
He doesn’t answer. Instead, he just rolls away from you, his hands burying in his hair as he lets out a long groan of frustration.
Your cheeks warm, but there’s something in his look, something that makes your chest flutter. It’s dark, almost possessive, and the intensity steals your breath. You open your mouth to say something—anything—to fill the silence, but before you can speak, Jude rolls to his feet, standing up with a swift motion that sends you sprawling on your back.
“I’m…” He swallows again, “I have to go,” he says, his voice thick, rough. “I’ll see you later, alright?”
You open your mouth, ready to ask why, but he’s already halfway out the door. You catch up just in time to watch him slam the front door closed behind him, the sound of his car roaring to life outside.
You stare at the closed door for a moment, blinking slowly as if you’re half-asleep. Your body still hums from his touches, your muscles soft, your heart pounding, and all you can think is: what did I do wrong?
*********
You don’t see him again for a couple of days.
It’s not unusual for Jude to be busy, his schedule crammed with training sessions, meetings, and endless obligations. But this feels different. He’s never been too busy to send a good morning text, check in with a quick call, or find some excuse to see you, even if it’s just for an hour.
Now, though? It’s radio silence.
The first day, you try to brush it off. You tell yourself that he’s probably exhausted and needs some space. By the second, the worry creeps in, uninvited but persistent. Did you do something wrong? Was it something you said? Something you didn’t say?
By the time he texts you to come over on the third day, you’ve practically convinced yourself he’s about to break things off. The idea leaves your chest feeling hollow.
When you step into his house, he greets you like always, flashing that charming grin that makes your stomach flip. But there’s something off in his posture, the way his arms wrap around you just a little too loosely.
The two of you settle on the couch, a movie playing in the background. Jude is quiet, his arm draped casually over the back of the couch but not quite pulling you in. Normally, he’d be all over you by now, his fingers tracing lazy patterns on your thigh, his lips brushing against your temple. Tonight, he’s… distant.
You bite your lip, stealing glances at him. He seems engrossed in the screen, but his jaw is set tightly, and his hand keeps flexing like he’s restless.
The movie plays on, and you feel like you’re sitting next to a stranger. Your heart pounds as you shift closer, testing the waters. His arm twitches but doesn’t move to pull you closer.
Your voice comes out soft, hesitant. “Jude?”
He hums, not looking at you.
“I missed you,” you admit, hoping it doesn’t sound as needy as it feels.
His lips twitch into a small smile. “Missed you too.” His tone is distracted, his gaze not straying from the screen.
You frown, your brow furrowing. Something’s wrong. You can feel it in the way his body tenses every time you shift a little closer. His hand tightens, loosens, tightens again, but he still doesn’t look at you.
“Can I ask you something?” you start, your voice tentative. When he doesn’t respond, you clear your throat. “Why didn’t you call me this week? You’re always so busy, and I know that, but—” You trail off, hoping he’ll fill in the blanks.
For a moment, he doesn’t respond. The silence between you stretches out uncomfortably, but then his gaze shifts, and you catch the way his eyes soften as they land on you. “It’s nothing.” He reaches for your hand, his fingers intertwining with yours.
You let him take your hand, but the touch feels fleeting, hollow—like he’s holding back. Your chest tightens, the ache spreading to your throat as you try to steady your breathing. You don’t want to push him, but the silence between you is unbearable.
“Jude,” you whisper, squeezing his hand. “It doesn’t feel like nothing.”
He sighs, leaning his head back against the couch. “Look, I’m just busy. That’s all.”
“You’ve always been busy,” you point out, feeling the sting of rejection. “I don’t understand why you couldn’t find time to call me this time.” Your voice cracks, and you look down at your lap to hide it.
He shifts then, his body twisting to face yours, his hand cupping your chin as he forces you to meet his eyes. His expression is soft, his brows furrowing as he studies your face. “Hey,” he murmurs. “I'm sorry, okay? I didn’t mean to upset you. It’s not your fault. I just… I was busy with some things.”
“What things?” you press, frowning at the way he looks at you like you’re a puzzle he can’t figure out. “What did I do? You don’t have to sugarcoat it for me. I promise.”
Jude’s lips quirk, his smile almost wry. “I’m not trying to sugarcoat anything, baby.” He leans forward, pressing a soft kiss to your cheek. His voice drops, turning soft. “It’s just hard for me to be around you.”
“Why?” you breathe out.
He hums, his nose nuzzling against your temple. “You're so… fucking innocent, baby. And you have no idea how much that fucking turns me on. I just can’t—You deserve everything, and I don't want to fuck this up.” He pulls back, his expression shifting to one of frustration. “I’ve never felt this way about anyone before. I want to be good for you, baby.” His thumb brushes against your cheek as he whispers against your skin. “I wanna ruin you."
His words make heat pool low in your stomach, your thighs pressing together. His voice is hypnotic, low and husky, and it takes you a moment to respond. "How would you do that?” you whisper.
His pupils dilate, his lips parting. “Oh fuck.” He swallows audibly, his gaze dropping to your mouth. Jude groans softly, his hand trailing up to cup the side of your face, his thumb stroking your cheek. "You don’t wanna know, sweetheart," he says, his voice thick with restraint. "I shouldn’t even be saying this."
You blink up at him, your lips parting to protest, but no sound comes out. His confession leaves you breathless, and your heart stumbles in your chest. "But I want to know," you whisper, feeling the heat of his gaze settle over you like fog.
His jaw tightens, and he leans in, his forehead pressing gently against yours. "You’re playing with fire," he murmurs, his breath warm and tantalizing against your lips. "Do you have any idea what you do to me?"
You don't move—can't move. It's like his words are pinning you in place with the weight of their meaning.
Jude chuckles softly, the sound low and almost reverent. "God, you’re so cute when you’re shy." His other hand moves to your waist, his fingers brushing against the fabric of your shirt. "I missed you like crazy these past few days, you know that? Couldn’t think straight, couldn’t focus. Just kept picturing you." He swallows thickly, his voice dropping to a low whisper. "Your lips are so fucking soft, and you taste like fucking honey."
His hand cups your face, his eyes burning into yours as he pulls back enough to meet your gaze. "Do you know how many times I've jacked off this week just thinking about your mouth? About what it would be like to fuck you?" He leans in closer, his voice turning harsh. "Do you even realize how fucking sexy you are? You make me lose my goddamn mind, baby."
You don't answer. You're not even sure if you can. His words have your head reeling, your breath catching in your throat. Heat pulses between your legs, making your thighs clench and unclench restlessly.
Jude groans, his face tucking into the crook of your neck as if seeking shelter. "Fuck. See what you fucking do to me? I can't even have a conversation around you, baby. I'm fucking obsessed." His fingers flex against your skin, his hot breath gusting over your neck. "Just being this close to you is driving me crazy."
Your breath hitches, a small noise escaping you as you wrap your arms around his shoulders instinctively. His words are making you feel… something. Your brain can't quite put a name to it, but it's making you feel soft and needy and… wet.
Jude seems to notice because he freezes, his nose dipping to the side of your neck, breathing you in deeply. "Are you wet, baby?" he murmurs, the question sending a flush up your cheeks. His voice is low, dark, and it does nothing to help the ache between your legs.
You squirm against him, pressing your thighs together in an attempt to alleviate the sensation. His hand cups your ass, pulling your body flush against his as he growls low against your neck.
"Answer me," he grunts, his hips pressing forward with a motion that makes you gasp.
Your head swims as if from a lack of oxygen, but you manage to whisper, "Y-yes."
Jude's whole body shudders against you , his head dropping to the crook of your shoulder as he groans again. "Fuck, sweetheart." His voice is hot against your skin, the words a mix of frustration and desire. "What did I tell you?" he murmurs almost absently. "About making me lose my fucking mind?"
The tension between you seems to grow thicker with every second that passes, and before you know it, you're being pulled onto his lap, his mouth crashing over yours in a desperate kiss. You cling to him, letting him devour you completely, and it feels like nothing else in the world matters but this.
Except he pulls away again just as quickly, his hands coming up to grip your shoulders and hold you at arm's length. You stare at him, confused, your cheeks flushed, your breath coming out in quick pants.
"Jude," you breathe out, reaching for him.
But he shakes his head, his jaw flexing with restraint as he holds you still. "No, baby. If I touch you again right now, I don’t think I'll be able to stop myself." His voice dips, growing rougher. "You're not ready for that." He leans in to nuzzle your nose, his words coming out as a soft apology against your skin. "You deserve better than me losing control like this."
You frown at his words, feeling them hit somewhere deep in your chest, but before you can find a way to respond, he pulls away and stands up. "Wait!" Your hand shoots out and drags him back to the sofa with a strength that surprises both of you.
"I—I want it. I want you to… have me." The words come out before you can take them back, but instead of being met with rejection, Jude’s eyes darken, his pupils expanding to eat up the color of his eyes. His grip tightens on your hand, and you hear him swallow thickly.
"Are you sure?" he asks, his voice husky and soft. "Baby, if you let me touch you like that, I won’t be able to hold back." He leans forward as if drawn by gravity, his lips grazing against yours as he murmurs against your mouth. "You want that?"
The question makes your cheeks flush, the sensation traveling down to pulse between your legs. Your stomach clenches, and you find yourself nodding, your lips brushing against his with the motion.
His soft groan vibrates through your entire body. His hand cups the side of your face with a gentleness that contradicts the heat in his eyes. "Baby," he whispers, his lips ghosting over yours. He leans back then, his expression softening, a hint of amusement tilting the corner of his lips upward. "You sure? You’re not just saying that because you think it’s what I want to hear?"
You shake your head , your breath hitching when his thumb trails over your bottom lip. "I trust you." The words slip out of you on a whisper, but they seem to mean something to him because he lets out a soft exhale.
“Fuck,” he groans, dropping his forehead against yours. “If you don’t stop being so fucking sweet, baby, I’m gonna fuck you on this couch, and neither of us will be ready for that.” He lets out an unsteady laugh, his words making heat spread through your body. "You don’t know what you’re getting yourself into." He tilts his head, his eyes narrowing, a small smirk twisting his lips. "But if you still want me to teach you after tonight, then I promise you that I’ll be the one to ruin you like you want." With that, he leans in and kisses you gently, the motion soft and sweet.
When he pulls back, his voice drops to a growl. “I can't wait to ruin you.” His words are so low, so full of warning that you wonder what he plans to do to you. The idea makes your pulse quicken, your stomach fluttering.
Jude leans in to press another kiss to your lips, his tongue darting out to lick at the seam of your mouth. “I’ll show you just how good it can be,” he whispers against your mouth, and then he pulls away with a soft bite to your bottom lip, leaving you breathless and wanting so much more.
He gives you another kiss that promises to corrupt, then leaves you on the couch feeling like your whole world has been flipped on its head. You wonder what the next few weeks will be like now.
********
"I want to learn how to please Jude." Is not what Charlie expects to hear from you.
You who are painfully shy and would rather hide under the covers than have a conversation about this sort of thing. So you imagine that your words catch her off guard when you approach her in your room, both of you lying on the bed side by side.
Charlie looks at you with a mixture of shock and amusement. "Well shit, girl. What brought that on?" She reaches over and puts a hand on your arm in comfort. "What happened?"
You fidget nervously. "It's just… I want to please him, and I don't know how. We've been dating for a while now, and I feel like it's time to try something new." You lower your eyes at the last part, your cheeks burning like crazy. "We've been together for so long and we still haven't done anything." You take a shaky breath. "I don't want him to get tired of me."
Charlie stares at you for a long moment, then she cracks out laughing. "Girl, you're so silly."
"What?" Your voice comes out pouty.
"Oh, come on." She chuckles. "You're being silly. There's no way in hell that Jude could be upset with you." She gives you a playful push, "Y/N, that guy is madly in love with you. He looks at you like he's obsessed. There's no chance he's getting tired of you."
You smile softly at her words, hope blooming in your chest at her confidence. "Yeah?" you ask, your tone breathless.
"Yeah." Charlie's expression softens, her voice turning gentle. "He looks at you the same way you do him. So please, stop worrying about it and just let him make the first move. Don't feel pressured into doing something you don't want to."
You nod, your brows furrowing as you look away. "That's the thing though. I do want to." Your voice drops to a whisper. "But I don't know what I'm doing."
Charlie looks at you for a second, then nods. "Ok. So what do you want to do?" She asks, her tone soft.
You look up at her, "What do guys like?" You ask, the question slipping out before you can stop it. You bite your lip and look away, feeling your cheeks burn.
Charlie laughs softly, the sound almost like a purr, "Ooo, Y/NNNN. Are you trying to turn me on?" She jokes. You know she's kidding because she's making that face she always makes right after telling a really funny joke.
"Charlie!" You push her with a giggle.
"What?" She pushes you back with a grin, "Come on, Y/N. If you're going to be a big girl and have sex, you should be able to talk about it."
You pout at her. "That's not fair. I ask you for help, and you're teasing me."
She chuckles and rolls her eyes with a smile, "Ok, ok. What do you wanna know?"
"Everything." You say, your face heating up even more.
"Everything?" Charlie quirks a brow, propping herself up on one elbow to get a better look at you. "Girl, that's a tall order. Are we talking the birds and the bees 'everything' or just the Jude-specific 'everything'?"
You bury your face in your hands, groaning. "This is so embarrassing."
Charlie laughs, a genuine, warm sound that makes you peek at her through your fingers. "Y/N, relax. Seriously. This is normal stuff. And you’re with Jude Bellingham, of all people. Do you have any idea how hungry he is? That man eye fucks you everytime you're in the room."
You groan again, rolling onto your stomach and burying your face in the pillow. "Stop! You're making it worse."
Charlie snorts, patting your back. "Okay, okay, I’ll stop. Let’s get serious for a sec. First of all, there’s no ‘right’ way to do anything. Everyone’s different. But if you really want to know what Jude likes, just…ask him. You already know him better than anyone else."
You lift your head slightly, just enough to look at her. "But what if I mess up?"
Charlie tilts her head, giving you a soft smile. "Y/N, you can’t mess up with someone who loves you. Jude’s not going to care if you don’t know everything. He’s crazy about you—trust me, I’ve seen it. The guy practically glows when you’re in the room. Just talk to him, be yourself, and let things happen naturally."
You chew on your bottom lip, processing her words. "I guess that makes sense. But what if—"
You’re interrupted by the familiar sound of your phone buzzing on the nightstand. Charlie smirks knowingly. "Bet you ten bucks it’s him."
You reach for your phone, and sure enough, Jude’s name lights up the screen. Your heart does a little flip, and Charlie cackles at the way your face immediately softens.
"Go on," she says, waving her hand. "Answer it. Lover boy’s probably wondering why you’ve been ignoring him all evening."
You hesitate for a moment before swiping to answer. "Hey," you say softly, your voice a little shaky.
"Hey, love." Jude’s deep, smooth voice comes through the line, instantly putting you at ease. "What’re you up to?"
"Just hanging out with Charlie," you reply, glancing at your friend, who’s grinning like a Cheshire cat. You roll your eyes at her. "What about you?"
"Thinking about you," he says, and you can hear the smile in his voice. "Missed you today."
Your cheeks flush, and Charlie makes a gagging motion, though her grin only widens. "I… I missed you too," you admit shyly, your fingers twisting in the hem of your sweater.
"Yeah?" Jude’s tone is playful, but there’s an edge of sincerity that makes your heart flutter. "What’re you doing after Charlie goes? Can I come see you?"
Your stomach flips, and you glance at Charlie, who’s mouthing Say yes! with an exaggerated expression. "Um, yeah," you say, trying to sound casual despite the way your voice wobbles. "If you want to."
"Of course I want to," he says, chuckling softly. "I’ll be over in a bit, yeah?"
"Okay," you whisper, unable to keep the smile out of your voice.
"See you soon, love."
You hang up and immediately bury your face in the pillow again, earning a loud laugh from Charlie. "Oh my God, you’re hopeless," she teases, nudging you with her foot. "You’re like a lovesick puppy. It’s adorable."
"Shut up," you mumble, though you’re smiling. You peek at her as you sit up. "Thanks, though. You were really helpful."
She snorts. "Clearly. But seriously, just relax. Be yourself. I promise he’ll love it. And if all else fails just give him a blowjob" She ducks just in time to miss the pillow you chuck her way. "I’ve gotta go. My ride’s coming in a minute." She climbs off the bed and heads over to the dresser to grab her phone. "I think I left my keys downstairs. Tell Jude I said hi."
"Will do," you say, smiling softly.
She waves before heading out the door and leaving you alone. You sink back into the covers, trying not to let your nerves get the best of you.
**********
A half hour later, you’re pacing in front of the living room door, your nerves bubbling up with every step. You keep glancing at the clock, willing the minutes to tick faster and slower all at once.
Your hands feel clammy, and you’re acutely aware of every tiny sound in the apartment—the hum of the refrigerator, the distant chatter of your upstairs neighbors, the soft patter of your socked feet against the floor. You’ve checked your reflection in the hallway mirror at least five times, brushing nonexistent lint from your sweater.
When you finally hear the familiar, rhythmic knock that signals Jude’s arrival, your heart skips a beat. You nearly trip over your own feet as you hurry to the door, pulling it open so quickly that Jude looks startled for a split second before his expression melts into that devastatingly familiar grin—the one that never fails to make your stomach flip.
"There’s my girl," he greets warmly, his voice a velvety blend of affection and amusement. Before you can even stammer out a hello, he steps forward, slipping one arm around your waist and pulling you into him. His lips find yours in a heartbeat, soft and warm, and you let out a small, involuntary sigh as his other hand settles on the back of your neck.
"Hi," you manage to mumble against his lips, your voice barely above a whisper.
Jude chuckles, the sound rumbling low in his chest as he pulls back just enough to meet your gaze. "Hello to you too," he murmurs, his thumb brushing an absentminded circle against your hip. His brown eyes are locked on yours, teasing. "You seem a little eager tonight. Miss me, baby?"
The heat rushes to your cheeks in an instant, and you lower your gaze, biting your lip to suppress the shy smile tugging at the corners of your mouth. "Maybe," you mumble, your voice so soft it’s almost lost in the space between you.
Jude’s grin widens, and he cups your face with one hand, his thumb brushing gently over the apple of your cheek. "Maybe?" he echoes, pretending to be wounded. "I’ve been thinking about you all day, and I get a maybe?" His tone is playful, but his eyes are so full of adoration that it makes your chest ache in the best way.
You fidget under his gaze, your hands instinctively gripping the hem of your sweater. "Of course I missed you," you admit shyly, barely managing to look up at him.
"That’s more like it," he says softly, leaning in to press a kiss to your forehead. His lips linger there for a moment, and when he pulls back, there’s a tenderness in his expression that makes your heart flutter. "Missed you too, you know. More than I probably should admit."
Your stomach flips at his words, and you let out a breathless laugh, not quite sure how to respond. Jude doesn’t seem to mind your silence; he just brushes another kiss to the tip of your nose before letting his hand slide from your face to your hand, lacing your fingers together.
"So," he starts, his voice dropping into a conspiratorial tone, "is Charlie still here, or do we have the place to ourselves?"
You shake your head, feeling your cheeks warm again at the implication. "She left about an hour ago," you reply, your voice still soft.
Jude grins. "Perfect. Let’s do something scandalous then," he teases, his voice dripping with faux mischief.
You blink up at him, wide-eyed. "Scandalous?" Is this it?
"Yep," he says with a wink. "Like…watching a movie we’ve already seen twenty times while cuddling on the couch. Absolutely outrageous, right?" You try not to deflate at his words and he must've noticed because he smirks down at you.
You let out a soft force chuckle, not seeing the teasing grin on his face. "Yeah, sure."
"Great!" Jude quips, tugging you toward the living room. "C’mon, let’s pick something good."
By "good," you know he means your favorite DVD, the one you’ve insisted on watching so many times that you’re sure he knows half the lines by heart. Sure enough, you makes a beeline for the small shelf in your room, plucking the case from its spot with a triumphant flourish.
"We have to find something new, you know that right?" he teases as you holds it up for him to see. Like he doesn't love it just as much as you. Maybe more. Not that he'll ever admit that to you.
"And yet you keep coming back," you counter quietly, feeling braver than usual.
Jude’s grin softens into something sweeter as he crosses the room to stand in front of you. "Because you’re worth it," he says simply, his voice so sincere it makes your chest tighten. He leans in, pressing a quick kiss to your temple before taking your hand again and leading you to your bed. "Now let’s go watch our favorite movie while cuddled in bed like good little nerds."
You follow him, feeling like you’re floating.
The movie’s been playing for about twenty minutes when you finally start to relax, tucked under Jude’s arm with a cozy blanket draped over both of you. The familiar dialogue flows easily in the background, and you can feel the steady rise and fall of Jude’s chest against your side. You're lulled into a state of peace, your head resting against his shoulder, your leg draped over his as you settle in.
It's when the movie gets to the good part that you hear (feel) Jude's stomach growl from under your ear, the low sound vibrating up his chest.
"Shit," he mutters with a quiet laugh, rubbing a hand absently over his stomach. "I’m fucking starving."
You lift your head from his shoulder to peer at his face. “You want me to make you something?” you ask, even though you don't feel like cooking, your hand coming up to copy his gesture.
His eyes flick down to yours, "Yeah," he says slowly, his voice low and soft. He lifts a hand, brushing a strand of hair behind your ear with a touch so gentle you barely feel it. His gaze follows the motion, his eyes darkening. "That’d be great, baby."
Your pulse quickens at the softness of his tone, but you nod and slip out of his arms, the movement sending the blanket tumbling to the bed. You slip out of the room, feeling his eyes on your back like a caress.
When you return with two bowls of popcorn in hand and a couple bags of snacks, Jude looks up from the spot he's settled in on the couch, his eyes sliding to yours for a heartbeat before dropping down to the food.
“Thank God,” he murmurs, taking one of the bowls from your hands with a grin. You try not to notice the way he brushes his fingers against yours as you pass him the bowl, but the touch makes your stomach flip anyway.
You sink back down beside him on the bed and take a seat. His leg presses up against yours, warm through the fabric of your jeans, and you feel yourself melting into him automatically, his warmth and scent pulling you in.
Jude lifts a handful of popcorn to his mouth, chewing as he settles his arm around your shoulder, the motion drawing you in even closer, until you're practically nestled against his side. His other hand lands on your thigh, his thumb brushing a slow pattern against your leg as he watches the movie. The motion sends a shiver up your spine, and you find your eyes dropping to the sight of his large hand against your leg, his fingertips lightly tracing the soft skin.
The feeling of his hand on you, the heat of his body against yours, is so good that you forget everything else around you—his soft, contented munching, the gentle way he tugs you in closer every now and then, the way you can feel his breath ghosting along the back of your neck and sending shivers up your spine.
You forget about it all until you feel his eyes on you, and you glance up to meet his gaze.
Jude is staring at you, his eyes half-lidded and his face tilted toward you. His expression is soft, his gaze almost… hungry. His tongue darts out to wet his bottom lip, his teeth catching it for just a heartbeat before he lets it slide free. You watch the whole thing in rapt fascination, your cheeks flushing when his gaze flicks down to yours and catches you staring.
"See something you like?" he asks with a low smirk, his voice soft and playful.
You feeling your skin heat up, feeling your pulse quicken and your stomach clench. You lower your eyes, biting your bottom lip to try and contain the frown that's threatening to break across your face.
"Y/N." His voice drops even lower, his hand tightening on your leg as you feel him lean in. His warm breath feathers along the shell of your ear, making you shiver and squirm. "Look at me."
Your eyes flick up to meet his, and his gaze is so warm that you can't look away. You're caught in his stare, the heat building between you like a flame.
"You're really fucking cute when you're shy," he murmurs softly, his grin widening as he reaches up to brush his thumb against the apple of your cheek, his touch feather-light. His eyes follow the motion, and his lips part as he takes a shallow breath, his body seeming to lean in on its own.
Your breath catches in your throat, and you forget to breathe for just a heartbeat as he presses his lips to yours, the kiss light and quick. When he pulls back, he doesn't go far, his face still hovering just a breath away.
"What?" you whisper, your pulse quickening at the way his eyes seem to darken as they drop down to look at your lips.
He lets out a soft, deep chuckle that vibrates through his chest. "What do you think?" His gaze is full of heat as he leans in again, the kiss softer this time, his lips barely brushing over yours. The motion makes you melt into him, your body seeming to go pliant under his touch. "You're too fucking sweet."
Your stomach flips at the way he says that, your hand coming up automatically to cup his neck. You draw him in, deepening the kiss with a soft sound, and he makes a pleased noise against your lips as he opens for you, letting you in.
The kiss turns soft and gentle, a sweet press of lips that makes you feel all fluttery inside, and you sink into it like a fish to water, losing yourself in the heat between you.
When Jude pulls back this time, it's with a groan, his brow furrowing as he tugs away, his breathing a little ragged. "We gotta stop."
You frown, feeling the sudden loss of him like a cold shower. You hesitate for a second, then reach out to cup his face with your palm, my thumb brushing over the sharp curve of his cheekbone.
"Jude—" you start softly, and he lets out another soft groan, sinking into your touch as he closes his eyes for a moment.
"Hm?" he hums against your palm, his tone low and tortured.
"I want you," you whisper, the word slipping out before you can stop it.
His eyes fly open at your words, his gaze snapping back to yours, and for just a heartbeat, he looks almost pained. Then he lets out a harsh breath and drops his head to yours, burying his face in the crook of your neck.
"I—fuck," he mutters, his voice muffled against your skin, and you can feel his body vibrating with the tension of his emotion. His hand cups the back of your skull, pulling you in closer. "I need a minute."
Your brows furrow at his words. What's wrong? you want to ask, but then Jude lets out a soft groan and bites you lightly on the neck, and all thoughts fly out of your mind.
His lips press to your skin with a soft, wet sound, the suction making your stomach flip. When he pulls back to look up at you, his mouth is swollen, his eyes heavy-lidded. He stares at you for a long moment, his gaze roaming down over your features before meeting yours again.
"Are you sure?" he asks, his voice almost a growl.
You nod, swallowing hard, your heart beating in your throat. I've never been more sure of anything.
Jude groans softly and kisses you again, the motion firm and deep as he pushes you backward until you're lying flat on the bed, his body covering yours. "How far do you want to go?" He mutters against your mouth, his voice deep and husky, his tongue darting out to trace your lips.
You hesitate for a heartbeat, unsure of how to answer. "Just… more than this?" you mumble softly, your hand tracing up his arm and coming to rest on his chest.
His other hand slides down to your waist, his fingers curling around your hip as he shifts, pressing you back into the bed. The weight of him, the heat of his body against yours, is overwhelming in the best way, and you can’t help the soft sound that escapes you.
"God, you’re perfect," he mutters. His lips trail down to your jaw, then your neck, leaving a trail of soft, heated kisses that make your skin tingle. "Tell me if I’m going too far, okay? Promise me."
You nod wordlessly, unable to speak around the pulse pounding in your throat.
Jude trails his lips along your collarbone, nipping gently at the skin before he lifts his head and catches your eyes with a heated look. "If it feels good," he starts slowly, his gaze locked on yours as his hand shifts up to cup your face, "tell me."
His other hand drops to your waist again, his palm skimming along your hip before sliding up underneath your shirt to land on the bare skin of your stomach. You gasp at the feeling of his warm palm against your skin, your breath catching as his fingers splay out over your belly, his touch sending a shiver up your spine.
"You like that, baby?" His eyes are dark with arousal as he stares down at you, his fingers sliding up to trace over the underside of your breast through your bra. The touch sends a shock straight through your body, your eyes fluttering closed. "Tell me, Y/N," he urges softly.
You gasp softly, letting out a wordless sound as you arch under his touch, your hands coming up to cling to his shoulders. You feel like you're melting into him, like your body is going limp as you let out another soft sound. "Yes."
Jude groans and presses a kiss to your neck, his mouth moving against your skin as he speaks. "Good girl." His hand moves up again, his fingers tracing up the bare skin of your side before his palm cups your breast, his thumb brushing lightly over your nipple.
You gasp again, your breath catching in your throat as you squirm under his touch. He doesn't stop, though; his fingers slip under the edge of your bra cup to brush over your nipple with a feather-light touch.
"God," he mutters hoarsely against your skin, his palm moving in a slow circle over your breast. "You have no idea how fucking good that feels."
His other hand shifts down to settle on your thigh, just above the knee, and you feel a shiver run through you. Your pulse is racing in your ears, the touch of him setting your whole body aflame.
You squirm under him, a soft, high-pitched moan slipping from between your lips, and Jude’s groan is immediate and deep. He shifts to settle his leg between your thighs, and you gasp again at the feeling of him against you. You can feel the hard length of him through his jeans, and the sensation sends another shiver up your spine.
"Fuck, Y/N," he rasps against your neck, his breath hot against your skin. His fingers trail down your ribs to your stomach, his palm landing flat against your belly with a soft press. "You’re gonna kill me."
The feeling of his hands on you is too much, and you squirm again, arching under his touch as you let out a high, breathless sound. Jude curses softly, shifting his leg against your center, and you feel another rush of wetness slip from you. His palm moves down to settle between your legs, his hand covering your mound with a warm press that makes you gasp.
"Tell me," he rasps, his voice full of emotion as he kisses your neck again. "Does this feel good?"
You can’t speak; all you can manage is a wordless nod, your hips arching up against his hand. Jude groans again, his breath feathering along your neck, his lips brushing a trail down to the neckline of your shirt.
He's still kissing you when he slides his hand down the waistband of your pants, his fingers trailing over the wet cotton of your panties before slipping under the edge to press against your bare skin. You feel a rush of pleasure at the touch, your whole body tensing, and Jude curses again softly as his palm presses against you, the weight of him making you feel warm and safe.
"Is this okay?" he asks raggedly, his fingers moving up to stroke against your clit through your panties.
The sensation sends a jolt of pleasure through you, and you let out a soft gasp as your hips shift against his palm. You nod wordlessly, your hands shifting up to clutch at his shoulders, and Jude groans again at the sensation of you against him.
"I need words baby," he rasps, his finger slipping under the cotton to brush against your clit with a slow press.
You let out another high-pitched sound, squirming under his hand as his finger shifts to rub against you in slow circles. His palm presses against your mound with a gentle weight, the pressure building between your legs and making your breath come in short, shallow gasps.
"Jude…please," you gasp, your hips shifting against his hand again.
"Please what?" He nuzzles your neck again, his lips feathering a trail along the skin. His finger doesn't stop moving, though, the feeling sending a rush of warmth through you. "Tell me what you need."
Your cheeks flush at his words, and you swallow hard. "Jude…" you murmur, your voice barely above a whisper.
"Come on," he rasps gently against your ear. "Tell me."
You squirm again, trying to get away from the feeling of his finger on your clit and the sudden wave of embarrassment that crashes over you. Jude doesn’t let you escape, though; his other arm tightens around your waist as his finger presses down harder against your clit, making the pleasure build between your legs.
"Yes!," you moan again, your voice high and breathless, your legs squirming against his hips. "More! P-please."
He groans loudly against your neck, his teeth catching at the skin in a sharp nip that makes you cry out. "God, fuck. You’re so good for me," he mutters in a hoarse rasp. Then he's pulling away. "Take off your pants for me baby. I wanna see you."
You nod, your hands dropping to your waist as you shove the fabric down. You’re not even fully out of them when Jude slides in the bed behind you. His arms come up around your waist, drawing you back against him, and his mouth drops to nuzzle against the back of your neck, the warmth of his breath sending a shiver down your spine.
He pulls you flush against him, his hips fitting against your ass in a way that makes you realize just how turned on he is. You let out another soft gasp, squirming back against him as you feel the length of his cock pressing between your ass cheeks.
Jude groans loudly again, his hands coming up to grip your hips as he pulls you more firmly against him. "Fuck, you feel so good," he rumbles, his mouth nuzzling a trail up the back of your neck. He kisses your skin softly, the warm press of his lips sending another shiver through you.
His hands move down to slip under the edge of your underwear, his fingers brushing against the bare skin of your thigh. You feel your stomach clench, the anticipation building inside you as his hand skims up to press between your legs. His fingers slide against your wet pussy, his palm cupping you firmly with a possessive press that makes your whole body tremble.
"Fuck," he growls hoarsely again, his lips trailing down to press a kiss to the back of your shoulder. "You're so wet for me." His fingers shift to press your folds through the fabric, stroking lightly against your clit as the wet slick sound of your arousal fills the air. "Do you like it when I touch you?"
You gasp at his words, feeling a hot blush rise up your neck. "Y-yes…" you gasp out.
He groans again, "You're really fucking perfect for me, you know that?" he rasps. "Take these off for me, baby."
You swallow hard, your hands lifting to your sides as you move to shimmy out of your panties, quickly closing your legs as soon as they're off. You hear Jude’s groan against your hair a moment before you feel his palm press down to your thigh.
"You getting shy on me, princess? Hm?" His voice is teasing as he nudges your legs apart again, his fingers trailing down over your skin as he pulls them further and further apart. You gasp softly as you feel your pussy lips spread with the movement, your clit throbbing. "Open up for me."
Your blush deepens, and you hesitate for a moment, unsure of what to do, but Jude’s warm breath on your neck is making you melt and your thigh part for him.
"Good girl," he praises softly. "Now let me see what's mine." His hand trails down to settle between your spread legs, his palm cupping your pussy firmly with a warm weight. Your eyes roll back at the sensation. "Look how wet you are," he groans. "You're fucking dripping for me, baby."
His hand shifts, his fingers dipping down to press against your folds, and the feeling is so good it makes you shiver. You gasp again, feeling another rush of liquid heat slip from you as his fingers spread your lips apart. You feel the cool air brush against your wet skin, and you blush hotly again at the sound of your own wetness filling the air.
"Look at that pretty pussy," Jude rasps, his voice deep and rough as he looks down over your shoulder at your wet folds "Fucking gorgeous."
His fingers shift to press against you again, and he lets out a pleased sound as he feels your wetness, his voice dropping to a deep whisper. "You love it, don't you?" he rumbles. "I can tell by the way you soak my fingers." He nuzzles his face into the back of your neck again, his breath making your skin prickle.
"Yes," you moan softly, your eyes drifting closed at the pleasure of his fingers against you.
Jude groans in response, his hand tightening around your hip as his fingers stroke against you faster. The feeling is so good that you can’t hold back your high-pitched sounds.
"Want me to make you cum, sweetheart?" he rasps against the skin of your neck, his fingers finding your clit with a sure press. The pleasure is so intense that you cry out at the sensation, your legs quivering as his thumb begins to rub against you with slow circles.
"Yeah?" Jude whispers in your ear, his voice low and husky. "Give it to me, baby." His voice is like liquid honey against your skin as his fingers shift, two of them sliding up to circle your clit in tight motions, the pad of his thumb rubbing against you in a steady, soft press.
You're so wet that you can hear the sloppy sound of him touching you, his palm cupped around your mound to shield it from the cool air of the room. You can tell he likes it, too; his breath is hot against your neck, and he groans roughly at the feeling of you in his hand.
The contrast between the heat of his palm and the chill of the air makes you shiver, but it’s nothing compared to the way his fingers are lazily stroking through your slickness, his touch teasing, reverent.
“God,” Jude groans, the sound raw, like he’s barely keeping himself together. “You hear that, sweetheart?” His voice is heavy with something dark and sweet, something that makes your stomach flip. “So fucking wet for me.”
You let out a tiny whimper, embarrassed but unable to deny how much you like the way he’s touching you, the way he’s looking at you—like you’re the only thing in the world that matters. You try to close your thighs instinctively, but he doesn’t let you, his hand pressing you open again with a quiet chuckle.
“No, no, don’t get shy on me now,” he murmurs, his lips brushing against the shell of your ear, sending a fresh wave of heat through your body. “Let me make you feel good, baby. Let me take care of you.”
You don’t trust yourself to speak, so you just nod, your face burning, and he exhales a quiet curse before pressing a kiss to the side of your neck.
“Can I stick a finger in, sweetheart?” he asks, his voice low and smooth, like honey, like he already knows the answer. He presses the tip of his middle finger against your entrance, just barely there, waiting, teasing.
You gasp at the sensation, your hips arching against his hand without thinking, seeking more. You don’t even realize how eager you are until you hear the sharp breath he takes in, feel the way his other arm tightens around your waist, holding you flush against him.
“That’s a yes?” Jude teases, but his voice is strained, like he’s holding himself back.
You nod, swallowing thickly, and then his finger presses inside you, sinking in slowly, inch by inch, stretching you open in the most delicious way. Your breath stutters, a soft, helpless sound escaping you as your body adjusts to the intrusion, and Jude groans in response, his face pressing against your hair.
“Fuck,” he mutters, his voice rough, almost pained. “You’re so tight, baby.”
You whimper, overwhelmed, your hands clutching the sheets beneath you as he strokes his finger in and out, curling it slightly with each movement. The sensation is foreign but intoxicating, sending little sparks of pleasure through your body with every slow, deliberate thrust.
His lips find your shoulder, pressing soft, open-mouthed kisses against your skin as he moves, his breath fanning over you in hot, uneven bursts. “Little virgin pussy just for me,” he whispers against your skin, and the words send a rush of something heady and desperate straight to your core.
Your body clenches around him involuntarily, and he groans at the feeling, his whole body shuddering behind you. “Fuck, baby. Do that again.”
You don’t mean to, but the way he’s touching you, the way his palm is dragging against your clit every time his fingers move, it’s too much. Your body reacts on instinct, tightening around him again, and he curses under his breath, his teeth sinking lightly into your shoulder as if he needs something to ground himself.
“Jude,” you whimper, unsure of what you’re asking for, only knowing that you need more.
“I got you, sweetheart,” he murmurs, and then he’s slipping another finger inside you, filling you even more, stretching you in a way that feels impossibly good. His other hand slides under your shirt, palms up your stomach until he finds your breast, cupping it gently, his thumb rubbing over your sensitive nipple. “You’re taking me so well,” he praises, voice thick with adoration.
The combination of it all—the heat of his body, the skill of his fingers, the sweetness in his voice—is overwhelming, and you can feel something building, coiling tight in the pit of your stomach, desperate to break free.
He can tell. Of course, he can.
“That’s it, sweetheart,” Jude murmurs against your skin, his fingers moving faster, his palm pressing just the right way against your clit. “You’re close, aren’t you? Gonna come for me?”
You nod frantically, your breath coming in short, uneven gasps.
“Good girl,” he breathes, his voice dripping with pride, and the praise sends you spiraling.
The pleasure crashes over you like a tidal wave, your whole body trembling as your release washes through you.
"Oh, God!" You cry out, Jude’s name falling from your lips in a breathless moan, and he groans, holding you tightly as he works you through it, his fingers never stopping, drawing it out until you’re completely spent, boneless in his arms.
You don’t realize how loud you were until the room falls into a thick silence, the only sound left is your heavy breathing and the faint rustle of the sheets.
Jude presses a slow, lingering kiss to the back of your head, his fingers slipping out of you with a wet pop, and you whimper at the emptiness, the oversensitivity. He shushes you gently, soothing you with soft touches, sweet kisses.
“You did so good, baby,” he murmurs, nuzzling against your hair. “So fucking perfect for me.”
Your heart is still pounding in your chest, your body still tingling, but all you can focus on is the warmth of him, the steady rise and fall of his breath against your back.
For the first time in your life, you feel like you’re seeing color.
"That good, huh?," Jude murmurs as he pulls his fingers from between your legs, sliding them up to cup your pussy possessively with a slow rub. Then he brings the fingers to his mouth, sucking them clean with a quiet groan of pleasure as you watch, your breath catching in your throat at the sight. His eyes locks on yours, the heat between you palpable as you gasp.
You nod, your cheeks flushing as he smirks, his tongue darting out to lick his palm.
"Tastes so fucking good too," he mutters, his voice dark with emotion. He drops his head to press a kiss to your neck, your collarbone, his hands slipping up to grip your shoulders firmly.
It's like a switch had been flipped inside you—And all you know is that you never want to go without feeling that again.
You're still breathing fast, your heart still pounding in your ears, "God damn, baby. You're gonna be the end of me."
***********
Pleasure has had a whole new meaning for you since that night.
And Jude is relentless. Ever the indulger.
There are moments when it feels like he can't keep his hands off of you at all. It's like he's gone feral.
Like the other day when you were cooking dinner, and you were wearing nothing but shorts and a tank top that barely covered your ass.
You were leaning over to stir the pot of pasta, completely focused on your task, until you felt Jude’s arms curl around your waist, pulling you back against him. His chest was warm, solid, and you felt the slow rise and fall of his breathing against your back before his hands slid up to cup your breasts, squeezing them roughly with a low groan.
“You’re tryin’ to kill me, aren’t you?” he murmured against your neck, pressing hot, open-mouthed kisses along your skin. “Walkin’ around like this, actin’ like I won’t do anything about it.”
Your breath hitched as he rolled his hips against your ass, making you gasp. “J-Jude, I’m cooking.”
“Mhm.” He hummed lazily, fingers toying with your nipples through the thin fabric of your top. “And I’m hungry for something else.”
That ended with him eating you out for the first time, right there on the kitchen counter. An experience unlike any other. The way his tongue moved against you, how his fingers rubbed over your clit as he lapped at you—fuck. Just thinking about it makes your cheeks flush and your panties wet.
Then there was the time you fell asleep in his lap while watching a movie at his place.
You woke up to his hands between your legs. He wasn’t even doing anything, just keeping his hand there, warm and possessive. When you stirred and gave him a sleepy, questioning look, he just smirked down at you, dimples flashing.
“S’ mine,” he said simply, as if it was the most obvious thing in the world. As if you belonged to him in every possible way.
And, god, the way he looks at you sometimes. Like he’s starving. Like he’s memorizing every inch of you. Like he’s still in disbelief that you’re his.
Right now you're at his apartment getting ready for your picnic date. You've decided to spend the summer with him since going home is out of the question for you this year. You're super excited to go on this picnic. It’s a surprise, so you have no idea where you’re going. But, from the way Jude looks, you’re pretty sure it's going to be great. He's practically bouncing in excitement.
Jude’s apartment smells like sandalwood and something faintly citrusy, a scent that clings to his skin, to the soft cotton of his hoodie, to the air around you. You’re standing in front of the full-length mirror in his bedroom, smoothing out the fabric of your sundress, your heart fluttering with the kind of nervous excitement that makes your fingers tremble just a little.
Behind you, Jude is practically bouncing on his heels, barely containing his excitement. It’s endearing, the way he can hardly stay still, like a golden retriever about to go on a walk.
“You almost ready, sweetheart?” he asks, his voice warm, teasing.
You catch his gaze in the mirror—he’s watching you with an expression that makes your stomach tighten, makes heat rise to your cheeks. The way he looks at you, dark eyes smoldering with something unspoken, always makes you feel like he’s seeing more than just what’s on the surface. Like he’s memorizing you.
“I—I think so,” you say softly, reaching for your cardigan, but before you can grab it, Jude steps in behind you, his chest pressing lightly against your back. His fingers brush over your bare shoulders, slow and deliberate, sending a shiver down your spine.
“You don’t need this,” he murmurs, lips so close to your ear that you feel the warmth of his breath. “It’s warm out.”
You swallow hard, your skin prickling under his touch. He knows exactly what he’s doing, and the worst part is that he enjoys it—loves the way you get all shy and flustered under his attention.
“I might get cold later,” you mumble, looking anywhere but at him.
Jude grins against your hair, his arms slipping around your waist, pulling you back against him. “I’ll keep you warm, baby.”
Your breath catches. The way he says it, so effortlessly, like a promise wrapped in silk, makes you dizzy.
“Jude…”
“Mm?”
“I—I thought we were leaving?” you manage, heart pounding.
He laughs, nuzzling into your neck, pressing a slow, lingering kiss just below your ear. “We are. But you keep distracting me.”
Your entire body feels like it’s on fire, and you don’t trust yourself to say anything without making a complete fool of yourself, so you just push lightly at his arms. He chuckles but lets you go, stepping back with his hands raised in mock surrender.
“Fine, fine. But you really do look beautiful, sweetheart.”
You duck your head, smiling despite yourself. “You always say that.”
“Because it’s always true.”
You shake your head at him, but the warmth in his gaze, the sincerity laced in his words, makes your heart swell.
As you gather your things, Jude grabs the picnic basket, still humming under his breath, his excitement infectious. He won’t tell you where you’re going—he’s been annoyingly secretive about it all morning—but from the way he keeps stealing glances at you, like he’s holding onto some grand secret, you know it’s going to be something special.
The car ride is filled with soft music and Jude’s hand resting comfortably on your thigh, his thumb tracing absentminded circles on your skin. Every now and then, he glances at you, a small, knowing smirk playing at his lips whenever he catches you sneaking a look at him.
“Excited?” he asks.
You nod, fingers twisting together in your lap. “Yeah. I love surprises.”
Jude grins, squeezing your thigh. “Good. ‘Cause you’re gonna love this one.”
The drive takes longer than you expected, but you don’t mind. With Jude, time always seems to melt away, the world outside shrinking until it’s just the two of you, wrapped in a little bubble of quiet intimacy.
When he finally pulls up to the destination, your breath catches. The sun is beginning to dip in the sky, casting everything in soft golden hues, and in front of you is a secluded little meadow, framed by towering trees. It looks like something out of a painting, untouched and serene.
“Oh,” you breathe, stepping out of the car, eyes wide. “Jude… it’s beautiful.”
His arms wrap around you from behind, chin resting on your shoulder. “Yeah? You like it?”
You nod, unable to find the right words.
“I wanted it to be special,” he says softly, pressing a kiss to the side of your head. “For you.”
Your throat tightens at that, and you turn in his arms, looking up at him. The sunlight catches in his eyes, turning them into molten honey, and for a moment, all you can do is stare.
“Jude…”
His fingers tilt your chin up, his gaze flickering down to your lips. “Can I kiss you?” You swoon at how he still asks.
You don’t even have to answer. You lift onto your toes, closing the space between you, and he meets you halfway, his lips capturing yours in a kiss that’s slow and deep, filled with all the things he doesn’t need to say out loud.
When you finally pull back, breathless and warm, he smiles against your lips. “Told you you’d love it.”
You laugh, heart full, and let him lead you toward the picnic he’s set up under the trees, the blanket spread out beneath the stars. It’s so romantic you could cry.
Jude wasn’t lying when he said you’d love it.
The picnic setup is nothing short of breathtaking. A thick, cozy blanket is spread over the grass, weighed down at the corners with a wicker basket, a bottle of wine, and a few lit lanterns that flicker warmly against the encroaching twilight. A small tent is pitched just a few feet away, its entrance left open, revealing plush pillows and more blankets inside. Everything about it feels intimate, private, like your own little world hidden away from everything else.
And Jude—God, Jude looks so pleased with himself, hands on his hips, watching your reaction with a boyish grin.
“You really did all this?” you ask softly, still a little stunned, still trying to process just how perfect it all is.
Jude chuckles, stepping behind you to wrap his arms around your waist, pulling you flush against him. “Of course,” he murmurs, nuzzling his nose into the crook of your neck. “Wanted to spoil my girl.”
Your face burns at that, heart skipping an entire beat. His girl. It’s ridiculous how much those two little words make you melt, how they settle so easily into your chest like they’ve always belonged there.
“I—I love it,” you manage, voice barely above a whisper. “Thank you.”
His lips graze the sensitive spot just behind your ear, and you shiver, hands gripping his forearms instinctively. “You can thank me later,” he teases, his voice laced with something dark, something promising.
Your breath hitches. “Jude.”
He just chuckles, pressing one last kiss to your neck before pulling away. “C’mon, sweetheart. Let’s eat before you get all shy on me.”
He’s right—you’re already flustered, barely holding yourself together as you kneel on the blanket. Jude joins you, opening the basket to pull out an assortment of food. There’s fresh fruit, sandwiches, some of your favorite snacks, and even ingredients for s’mores.
“You thought of everything,” you muse, watching as he uncorks the bottle of wine with practiced ease.
“‘Course I did,” he says, winking. “Gotta impress my girl.”
Your stomach flutters. You shake your head, biting your lip as you take the glass he hands you, trying to suppress the ridiculous smile threatening to take over your face.
The two of you eat leisurely, the conversation flowing as effortlessly as it always does. Jude makes you laugh until your sides ache, teasing you in that way only he can—flirty, playful, but always affectionate.
It’s easy. Being with him.
Eventually, the stars come out, a sprawling canvas of light stretching endlessly above you. You lay back on the blanket, staring up in awe, while Jude props himself up on one elbow, watching you instead.
“You brought your telescope, yeah?” he asks.
You nod, turning your head to meet his gaze. “Mhm. It’s in the car.”
Jude smirks. “Think you could teach me some constellations?”
You hum, considering. “Depends.”
“On?”
“On how well you listen.”
He grins, leaning in, his face dangerously close to yours. “I always listen to you, sweetheart.”
Your breath catches. His hand finds your hip, fingers tracing slow, lazy patterns through the fabric of your dress. “Jude…”
“Mm?”
“You’re distracting me.”
He laughs, low and deep. “Am I?”
You nod, cheeks burning. “Very much.”
Jude’s fingers tighten on your hip, just slightly, just enough for you to feel the possessiveness in the gesture. “That’s funny,” he murmurs, dipping his head so that his lips ghost over yours, not quite kissing you, just teasing. “Because you’ve been distracting me all damn night.”
Your pulse stutters. “I—I have?”
Jude exhales sharply, like he can’t believe you’d even ask. “Sweetheart,” he murmurs, pressing a lingering kiss to the corner of your mouth. “You have no idea what you do to me.”
Your hands grip at his hoodie, trying to ground yourself, trying to breathe through the sudden onslaught of heat pooling low in your stomach. “Jude,” you whisper, barely able to get his name out.
He groans, like you saying his name alone is enough to drive him insane, and then he finally closes the distance, kissing you deep and slow, like he has all the time in the world to unravel you piece by piece.
And you let him. Because it’s Jude. Because you trust him. Because he makes you feel safe even when he makes you feel like you’re coming undone.
When he finally pulls away, you’re breathless, dizzy. He rests his forehead against yours, breathing heavily, his fingers still gripping your hip like he’s afraid you’ll disappear.
“You’re gonna be the death of me,” he mutters, but he’s smiling when he says it, and you can’t help but smile too.
“You started it,” you tease, voice barely above a whisper.
Jude laughs, shaking his head. “Yeah, yeah.” He presses a quick, final kiss to your lips before rolling onto his back, staring up at the sky. “Go on, then. Teach me something.”
You giggle, reaching for his hand, lacing your fingers together. “Okay,” you say softly, squeezing his hand once. “See that bright one over there?”
Jude hums, squeezing back. “Yeah.”
“That’s Vega.”
He turns his head to look at you, eyes full of something unbearably fond. “Is it the prettiest star?”
You blink, caught off guard by the question. “Well, I—”
“Because if it is,” he interrupts, grinning, “then it makes sense why it reminds me of you.”
Your heart stutters, cheeks burning, and you groan, covering your face with your hands. “Jude.”
He laughs, warm and rich, pulling you closer until you’re curled into his side, the steady thrum of his heartbeat against your ear.
You stay like that for a couple minutes, his fingers trace lazy patterns along your arm, his warmth seeping into your skin, grounding you. You feel safe here. Cherished.
And you make your decision.
“You’re quiet,” Jude murmurs, tilting his head down to look at you. His voice is low, roughened by the night air, by the intimacy wrapped around you both like a second skin.
You swallow, nerves bubbling in your stomach. You’ve been thinking about this for weeks now, letting the thought sit in the corners of your mind, letting it grow into something more solid, more certain.
And now, in the golden glow of this moment, with the stars watching and Jude holding you like you’re his world, you finally gather the courage to say it.
“Jude…” Your voice is small, hesitant. You shift slightly so you can look up at him, your heart hammering against your ribs. “I—I think I’m ready.”
His brows furrow, lips parting slightly as he processes your words. Then his expression softens, something warm and deep flickering in his gaze. “Ready for what, sweetheart?” He knows what you're asking for. But he doesn't want to get ahead of himself, so he waits for you to confirm.
You bite your lip, fingers twisting in the fabric of the blanket. It takes everything in you to hold his gaze, but you do, because you need him to know that you mean this. That you want this.
“For… us. For that.” Your cheeks burn, and you’re sure you must look ridiculous, but Jude just watches you, patient as ever. “I want to be with you. I want you to be my first.”
For a moment, he doesn’t say anything. Just stares at you with an unreadable expression, his grip on you tightening slightly. Then, slowly, his thumb brushes over your cheek, his touch feather-light.
“Are you sure?” His voice is barely above a whisper, careful and deliberate, like he’s giving you one last chance to change your mind.
You nod, pressing your cheek into his palm. “I’ve never been more sure about anything.”
Something shifts in his gaze—something deep, something intense. His jaw tightens like he’s holding something back, but then he exhales, his hand slipping from your face to intertwine with yours.
“Okay,” he says softly. “Okay, baby.” He lifts your hand to his lips, pressing a gentle kiss to your knuckles. “Let's go inside then.”
You nod and he helps you up, his movements slow and deliberate, as if he’s afraid you’ll disappear if he moves too fast. He doesn’t rush, doesn’t push. Just holds your hand as he leads you toward the tent, zipping it open and stepping aside to let you in first.
The inside is cozy, lit only by the soft glow of the lanterns Jude set up earlier. The air is warm, thick with something unspoken, something electric. You settle onto the pile of blankets and pillows, watching as Jude kneels in front of you, his hands resting on his thighs.
“You’re so beautiful,” he says, his voice barely above a breath, as if the words are meant only for you and the universe.
You duck your head, suddenly shy, but Jude doesn’t let you hide. He reaches out, tilting your chin up so your eyes meet his. “You don’t have to be nervous,” he murmurs, brushing a kiss over your cheek, then your jaw, then the corner of your lips. “I’ve got you.”
You nod, exhaling softly. “I know.”
His lips find yours then, slow and tender, like he’s savoring the moment. His hands are gentle as they slide up your arms, over your shoulders, down your back. There’s no rush, no urgency—just soft touches, soft kisses, soft whispers.
The world outside fades into nothingness, leaving only the two of you. The stars, once so distant, now feel like they're watching closely, witnesses to something both innocent and deeply intimate. His kiss deepens slowly, the pressure of his lips soft and coaxing, as if he's waiting for you to lead, to guide him through this moment. His hands are everywhere, but always with a reverence, like he's treating every inch of you as something precious.
You feel your pulse quicken under his touch, the fluttering of nerves mixing with something else, something sweet. He can sense it, too—how your breath catches every time he moves, every time his fingers graze your skin.
“Hey,” Jude murmurs against your lips, his voice a touch rougher now, laced with need. He pulls back just enough to meet your eyes, his gaze dark and intense. “It's just me, okay? Always just me.”
You nod, swallowing hard, but Jude's fingers tighten on your waist like he needs more assurance. Like he needs to hear it from you.
“Just you,” you manage, your voice barely above a whisper.
Jude's eyes flash with something like triumph, and his lips find yours again in a kiss that's soft, deep, devouring.
Jude is gentle, almost unbearably so, as he slowly tilts you back onto the pillows. The world seems to narrow to just the two of you—the rustling of the blankets beneath you, the warmth of his hands steadying your body, the quiet exhale of his breath fanning against your skin. Your hair spreads out like a halo against the sheets, and Jude just stares for a moment, his gaze roaming over you like he’s seeing you for the first time.
"Fuck baby, look at you," he murmurs, voice rough, reverent. "You don't even know how pretty you are, do you?"
You swallow hard, looking at him through wet clumpy lashes, the warmth of him overwhelming you already. Jude bites his bottom lip at the sight of you already so fucked out for him. You're so fucking pretty and he can't wait to ruin you.
Jude’s weight shifts over you as he lowers himself between your legs, his body pressing against yours in a way that steals the breath from your lungs. He’s everywhere—his scent, his warmth, the solid weight of him pressing into you in all the places you’re most sensitive. You feel him, all of him, and your lashes flutter as you try not to tremble beneath him.
His hands slide up your sides, slow and deliberate, his fingers catching the hem of your dress. He pushes the fabric up inch by inch, exposing more of your skin to the cool air, and then he makes a sound—low, almost pained.
"Jesus, sweetheart," he breathes, dipping his head to your neck. He kisses you there, soft at first, then with more intent, dragging his lips over the delicate skin until he reaches your collarbone. His mouth is hot, open-mouthed, tasting you, lingering. The smell of you putting him in a haze. "Need to taste you. Gonna let me? Mhm?"
The words send a bolt of heat straight to your core.
You nod, but the motion is shaky, your lips parted as you struggle to find your voice. "Y-yeah," you whisper, barely more than breath.
Jude smiles against your skin, finding your shyness utterly endearing. Even after all this time you're still so fucking cute. "That’s my girl," he murmurs, his fingers trailing lower.
You feel them at the edge of your panties, feel the soft tug as he starts to slide them down. Your breath hitches, and Jude pauses immediately, glancing up at you. His eyes are warm, searching.
"Hey," he murmurs, pressing a kiss just above your navel. "You okay?"
You nod again, but he doesn’t move right away. He watches you, patient, waiting for you to really settle before continuing. It’s so incredibly tender that your heart squeezes in your chest.
When he finally does pull your panties away, his breath catches. His hands part your thighs, thumbs stroking over the sensitive skin there, and he exhales like he’s been waiting his whole life for this moment. He has.
"Fuck, baby," he whispers, pressing a kiss to the inside of your thigh. "Such a pretty pussy."
Your fingers curl into the sheets as he works his way lower, his lips tracing paths of fire down your legs, teasing, deliberate. You’re already shaking by the time his breath ghosts over the sensitive skin of your mound.
"Can I kiss it, baby?" His voice is low, dark, laced with something sinful, something that makes your entire body burn.
You can’t even speak. Your lips part, but no words come out, just a soft whimper that makes Jude grin against your skin. He loves this—the way you melt for him, the way you look at him with wide, innocent eyes like you can’t believe what’s happening.
"You’ve gotta tell me, princess," he murmurs, his hands gripping your thighs, his thumbs tracing slow, soothing circles. "Need to hear you say it."
"Y-yeah," you stammer, barely audible, but it’s enough.
Jude groans, his lips pressing one last kiss to your inner thigh before finally, finally—
The first touch of his mouth is pure ecstacy. You gasp, your body jolting against the bed, and Jude hums in approval. His tongue moves slowly, languidly, savoring every inch of you like you’re the sweetest thing he’s ever tasted. You are.
"God, baby," he groans into you, his voice vibrating against your skin. "Taste so fucking good. Could stay here all night."
His hands slide beneath your thighs, pulling you closer, tilting your hips just right so he can get even deeper. His tongue flicks over your clit, teasing, and your entire body tenses. Your fingers shoot to his hair, gripping onto the dark coils as if they’re the only thing keeping you tethered to reality.
Jude chuckles, and the sound is pure sin. "That good, huh?"
You let out a broken whimper, your head tipping back, your cheeks burning. He’s watching you—God, he’s watching you. His eyes flicker up to meet yours, dark and hungry, and the sight alone is enough to make your stomach twist with want.
"Look at you," he murmurs, licking into you again, slow and deep. "So fucking pretty when you let go for me."
You squeeze your eyes shut, overwhelmed, but he’s not having it. One of his hands moves up your body, sliding beneath your dress until he finds your hand, lacing his fingers through yours.
"Don’t hide from me, sweetheart," he murmurs against your skin. "Wanna see you. Wanna watch you fall apart."
And you do.
With every stroke of his tongue, every whispered praise against your skin, and wet slick sound of his mouth, your body coils tighter, your breath coming in sharp little pants. It feels like you’re being pulled apart at the seams, every nerve on fire, and it’s terrifying, overwhelming, but Jude—he’s there, holding you, grounding you, whispering sweet nothings against your pussy.
When he flicks his tongue over your clit once more, you lose it.
Your body convulses, your thighs squeezing around him, and Jude holds you through it all, his tongue never ceasing its motion. He groans against your skin, his hand gripping your thigh hard, but you barely feel it. All you can do is sob his name, your head tipping back in a silent scream, your body shaking with the force of your orgasm.
Jude stays with you through it all—licking, sucking, slowly bringing you down from the high. He doesn’t stop until your body finally relaxes against the mattress, limp and warm and pliant. Then he moves up your body in a slow, languid crawl, lips dragging over your skin, kissing everything he passes. His fingers find your hair, stroking it back from your face, and then his mouth meets yours.
You're still reeling from what he's done, from the way he’s touched you, taken you apart like he was born to do it. Your body is thrumming, heat pooling low in your belly, and yet Jude’s kiss is gentle—softer than you expect, coaxing you back to reality, back to him.
He tastes like you—salt and sweetness mixed into something heady and intoxicating. The taste of him makes you whimper against his lips, and he swallows the sound like it’s his favorite thing in the world.
"Hi, baby," he murmurs, his nose brushing against yours, lips barely ghosting over your mouth as he speaks. "Still with me?"
You hum, nodding shyly, your fingers fisting the sheets beside you.
Jude grins against your lips, his voice turning teasing. "Good girl."
His words send a ripple of warmth through you, but before you can say anything, he leans back, arms flexing as he peels his shirt off in one smooth motion. The sight of him, shirtless and breathtaking, has your breath hitching. His body is all lean muscle, defined and golden brown. Spit pools in your mouth, and you have to swallow quickly to stop from embarrassing yourself.
Jude notices. Of course, he does. His smirk is knowing, his dark eyes full of mischief as he tosses the shirt aside.
"Like what you see, sweetheart?" he teases, voice dipping low, sinful.
Your face burns, but you can’t look away.
His laughter is soft, affectionate. "You’re too cute," he murmurs, brushing his fingers over your flushed cheek before dipping lower, reaching for the hem of your dress. His knuckles graze your skin, making you shiver. "Let’s get this off you."
Before you can protest, the fabric is slipping over your head and then—then you’re bare for him.
The moment stretches, thick with anticipation. You shift slightly, suddenly shy under his gaze, but Jude just looks at you like you’re a masterpiece, like he’s afraid to blink in case you disappear.
"Fuck," he breathes, his voice rough, reverent. "You're so fucking pretty."
You barely have time to register his words before his lips are back on yours—hotter this time, more insistent. There’s no hesitation now, no teasing restraint. He kisses you like he’s starved, like he’s trying to consume every last bit of you.
You gasp against his mouth, arching into him, needing more, and he groans, gripping your thigh and pulling it over his hip. The new angle has you feeling him more, the thick press of his cock through his pants sending sparks of desire shooting straight to your core.
"Jude," you whisper, breathless.
He presses his forehead to yours, his breathing ragged. "I know, baby," he murmurs, rolling his hips against yours. The friction is maddening, sinful. You moan, and he catches the sound with his mouth, swallowing it greedily.
"You're so soft," he whispers, his hands roaming, fingertips dragging over your skin like he’s memorizing every inch of you. "So warm." Another roll of his hips, slow and deliberate. "I need you, baby."
His words send a shiver down your spine, heat curling deep inside you.
Jude’s mouth finds your throat, pressing open-mouthed kisses down to your chest. His hands follow, palms covering your breasts, kneading softly before his thumbs brush over your nipples. The sensation is too much, not enough, all at once.
You whimper, your hands flying to his shoulders, clutching him.
"You're so sensitive," Jude mutters, voice thick with want. He pinches one of your nipples lightly, watching as you jolt beneath him. "Makes me so fucking hard."
His words are filthy, but instead of making you shy away, they send another wave of heat pooling between your legs.
Your eyes flicker downward, and you see it—see the thick outline of him straining against his pants. Your breath catches.
"Take them off," you whisper, surprising yourself.
Jude stills, his gaze snapping to yours, surprised. Then, he smirks, but there’s something darker, hungrier beneath it. "Yeah?"
You nod, biting your lip.
He doesn’t need to be told twice. In one swift motion, he kicks off his pants and boxer briefs, and then he’s bare before you.
Your breath stutters. He’s—God.
Thick, veiny and oh so hard.
Your thighs press together instinctively, and Jude notices. His smirk grows, but there’s a softness in his eyes, too. He leans down, brushing a kiss to your jaw, your cheek, your nose.
But then—
"Shit." He suddenly freezes, his face scrunching in frustration. "I don’t have condoms."
You blink, his words slow to register through the haze of desire clouding your mind.
Jude groans, dragging a hand through his hair. "Fuck, I’m so sorry. I didn’t think we’d be doing this tonight."
You hesitate, then swallow your nerves. "It’s okay," you murmur. You reach down, wrapping your fingers around him, feeling the warmth, the weight of him in your palm. He sucks in a sharp breath. "I’m on birth control."
"Sweetheart," he groans, his hips jerking slightly into your hand. "Don’t do that."
But you do. You stroke him slowly, experimentally, fascinated by the way his breathing stutters, the way his jaw clenches like he’s barely holding himself together.
Jude curses under his breath, his head dropping to your shoulder. "You’re gonna make me cum if you keep that up."
You hum softly, dragging your thumb over the tip, spreading the precum leaking out. He chokes on a groan, his hands gripping your hips tight.
You’ve never seen him like this—so undone, so desperate.
And God, you love it.
"Please, baby," he rasps, his voice thick with need. "Squeeze tighter for me."
You bite your lip as you obey, watching him through your lashes. He’s so big, so hard for you. Your walls clenches just thinking about it, a rush of slick flooding your core.
Jude notices. His eyes flick down to where your thighs press together, and then the last of his control snaps.
He grabs your wrist, pulling your hand away from him.
His hands slide down, tracing the curve of your waist before gripping your thighs, spreading them open carefully.
"Tell me if it hurts, sweetheart," he murmurs, reaching down to stroke himself. He brushes his lips over your forehead, your nose, your cheeks, soothing you in every way he can. "I’ll stop if you need me to. I’ll take care of you, I promise."
You believe him. You always have.
Then, he shifts, and you feel him at your entrance, his heavy gaze locked between your thighs. A nervous breath hitches in your throat, your fingers fisting into the sheets. Jude notices, of course he does, and his lips curve into a teasing smirk.
“Relax, sweetheart,” he murmurs, his voice low and sweet like honey. “I got you.”
You nod, though your body remains tense, overwhelmed by his closeness, by the way his touch ignites something deep inside you. Then, he moves the head of his cock over your clit, slow and deliberate, rubbing lazy circles that have your breath stuttering. The sensation is new, foreign yet delicious, and just as you’re adjusting to the pleasure, he taps it against your swollen bud, making you jolt.
A soft gasp escapes you, your fingers gripping the sheets tighter.
“Jesus fuck,” he groans, shaking his head as he watches how his thick head glides easily between your slick folds. The sound it makes makes you bury you face in his shoulder “You’re so wet, baby. All fucking mine.”
His words send a rush of heat through your body, your cheeks burning as you turn your face to the side, too shy to meet his gaze. But Jude isn’t having it. He cups your chin gently, coaxing you to look at him.
“Don’t hide from me,” he whispers, pressing a tender kiss to your lips. 
The hunger in his voice makes you clench and he groans at the feeling. Then, he’s pressing in, the thick head pushing past your entrance, stretching you in a way that makes you suck in a sharp breath. Your lashes flutter, but Jude’s there, his eyes locked on yours, his lips brushing reassuring kisses over your nose, your cheek.
“I know,” he murmurs. “I know, baby.” 
He slides in further, slow, slow. You feel yourself spreading around his girth, the feeling of fullness intense but not quite painful. The dull pressure borders on discomfort, but Jude doesn’t rush you. He moves slowly, carefully, inch by inch, pausing to let you adjust, his hands soothing over your sides.
“You’re doing so good for me, baby,” he praises, his lips brushing over your cheek, your jaw, down to your throat. “Just breathe. I’ve got you.”
You exhale shakily, trying to relax as he pushes deeper. There’s a slight burn, your body resisting the intrusion, but the way Jude watches you—so patient, so gentle—eases the tension. He strokes your thigh, his thumb rubbing slow, reassuring circles into your skin.
“Almost there, sweetheart,” he murmurs, brushing a stray strand of hair from your damp forehead. His voice is wrecked, thick with restraint. “God, you feel so fucking good. So warm, so tight.”
Your nails dig into his back as he finally sinks in all the way, filling you completely. A whimper leaves your lips, overwhelmed by the stretch, by the feeling of being utterly, entirely full. Jude stills immediately, concern flickering across his face.
“Too much?” he asks, his thumb brushing your cheek.
You shake your head quickly, blinking up at him. “No—just… full,” you admit breathlessly, your voice barely above a whisper.
His expression softens, pressing a kiss to your temple, his lips lingering there.
He doesn’t move, just holds you, letting you adjust at your own pace. His lips find your neck, trailing slow, reverent kisses down to your collarbone. His hands never stop moving, caressing your thighs, your hips, your waist—everywhere. It helps, the ache easing into something warmer, something better.
You shift slightly beneath him, testing the sensation, and a tiny moan escapes you at the delicious friction. Jude groans, his fingers tightening on your hips like he’s barely holding on.
“Fuck,” he rasps, his forehead dropping to your shoulder. “You’re so fucking tight. Pussy feels like heaven, baby.”
His words send a fresh wave of heat through you, making you squirm in embarrassment. You bury your face against his neck, but he only chuckles, pressing a kiss to the shell of your ear.
“Don’t be shy,” he coaxes, his voice laced with amusement. “I wanna hear you, sweetheart.”
His hands slide down to your hips, gripping them gently as he pulls out, slow and careful, before sinking back in. The friction sends a shiver up your spine, something new and intoxicating unfurling in your belly. Your breath stutters, your fingers digging into his shoulders.
Jude watches you closely, his eyes dark and heated. Then, his lips twitch into a knowing grin.
“There it is,” he murmurs, his voice thick with pride. “You like that, baby?”
Your cheeks flame, but the pleasure is too much to deny. You nod, barely able to form words, and Jude groans, dropping his head to your collarbone as he fights to keep himself together.
“Fuck, this pussy,” the last sound drags out as his jaw goes slack. “fucking made for me.”
His thrusts remain slow, deep, every roll of his hips sending a ripple of pleasure through you. It’s like nothing you’ve ever felt before, a sensation you can’t begin to describe. Every brush of his skin against yours sends sparks of sensation through your body.
It’s not long before you find yourself moving with him, arching beneath him, searching for more. He hums in approval, his teeth nipping gently at your neck as he thrusts into you deeper, harder. You cry out, a high whimper, and Jude swallows it greedily.
You’re completely lost in the sensation of him, the way he moves above you like a dream, like a vision. The way his lips drag over your skin, the soft praise against your ear, the heavy weight of him on top of you. It all feels so good, so overwhelming, that you find yourself clinging to him, your arms wrapping around his shoulders like he’s the only thing that exists in this moment.
Jude growls, his mouth finding yours as he kisses you hard, deep. He fucks you into the mattress, hard and fast, rougher than he ever thought he’d be with you. But you—it’s like you were made for him, like your body was built for this, for his cock.
And it makes him crazy.
“Fuuuckk,” he rasps into your mouth, your lips barely parting for words. “Gonna cum for me? Hm?”
He slips a hand down between your bodies, his fingers finding your clit. He strokes it, hard, slow circles that make you cry out. Your walls clench around him as he rubs you faster—it’s like the best thing you’ve ever felt.
And then…
"Oh, fuck! Jude!" you cry out, your back concaving into him as his tip grazes a spot that has tears spilling down your cheeks. You can only describe it as pure ecstasy and he’s not letting up. “Oh, God. Oh, God”
Jude curses, his hips moving faster, thrusting into your gspot over and over again. You’re sobbing now, "Found it."Jude whispers, a triumphant smirk spreading across his face as he angles his hips to hit that sweet spot over and over.  You're getting so close, your body’s a live wire, waiting to snap.
“Jude—fuck! I-I’m gonna cum!” you sob.
His hand tightens on your hip, his fingers bruising. “Then cum, baby,” he grunts, his own body tense, close. “Let me feel it. Cum for me, sweetheart. Fucking milk my cock.”
The filthy words send you over the edge, your body arching as waves of pleasure crash over you, a force so intense it steals the air from your lungs. Your fingers clutch at Jude’s broad shoulders, nails pressing into his flushed skin, as a broken sob falls from your lips. The pleasure is overwhelming—too much, too deep, too consuming—but you surrender to it, trembling as your body spasms around him.
"That’s it, love," Jude groans, his voice rough with desperation, his fingers tangling with yours as he pins your hands above your head, holding you there, helpless beneath him. “Jude,” you gasp, voice trembling, eyes glazed over with pleasure.
The sight of you—flushed, trembling, your lips parted in a breathless moan—Your slick gummy walls spasm around him, clenching tight, and it’s all Jude needs to follow you into the abyss of bliss.
A deep, guttural groan rumbles from his chest, his head tipping back as his thrusts turn frantic, desperate, chasing his own pleasure. You watch as his eyes roll back and his jaw goes slack as his mouth forms an 'O'. “Fuckkkk,” he grits out, his entire body shuddering. “That’s it, princess. Love this fuckin’ pussy.”
His hips stutter, his thick cock jerks inside you once, twice, then he’s gone—spilling deep inside of you with a strangled moan. You feel it—the warmth of him, thick and hot, filling you up completely. His body trembles against yours as he collapses, his chest pressing against your own, heartbeat wild and erratic.
For a few moments, there’s nothing but the sound of your mingled breaths, the cool night air brushing over your sweat-slicked skin. The world outside the tent is quiet, save for the occasional chirp of crickets or the distant rustling of leaves.
Jude’s nose brushes against your temple, his lips following in a lazy path along your hairline, down your cheek, over your jaw. He peppers soft kisses across your skin, like he can’t bear to stop touching you. His arms tighten around your waist, pulling you impossibly closer, like he’s afraid you might slip away.
You blink up at him, your vision still hazy, your body still trembling from the aftershocks. And then, unexpectedly, a giggle bubbles past your lips. 
Jude stirs, lifting his head to look down at you with a lopsided grin. His honey brown eyes are filled with amusement, mischief, and something far softer—something that makes your stomach flip.
“What are you laughin’ at, princess?” His voice is hoarse, still rough with pleasure and a hint of exhaustion. His thumb strokes slow circles over your hipbone.
You shake your head, a little breathless, still giddy. “That was…” You pause, searching for the right words, but nothing feels like enough. Your cheeks burn as you hide your face against his shoulder. “I don’t even know how to describe it.”
Jude chuckles, the deep sound vibrating against your skin. “I think I do.”
You peek up at him, curiosity flickering in your dazed gaze. “Yeah?”
He hums, pressing another slow, lingering kiss to your lips before pulling back just enough to study your face, propping himself up on one elbow so he can look down at you, his fingers tracing absentminded circles against your skin
“It was,” he starts, dragging the moment out, watching the way your lips part slightly, the way your lashes flutter. He smirks. “Pretty fuckin’ perfect.”
Your blush deepens, and you swat at his chest, but your hand has no real strength behind it. “Jude,” you whine, embarrassed, but he only laughs, catching your wrist and bringing it to his lips. He presses a kiss to your palm, then your fingertips, his eyes never leaving yours.
“I mean it,” he murmurs, voice lower now, more serious. “You’re perfect.”
Your heart stumbles, skipping a beat before thudding heavily against your ribs. You swallow, suddenly shy, suddenly overwhelmed by the depth of emotion in his gaze.
The way he's looking at you now. It's too much.
“I…” Your throat feels tight, words catching. But Jude just smiles, like he understands, like he doesn’t need you to say anything at all.
He shifts, rolling onto his side making you wince as you remember he's still inside you, bringing you with him so that you’re tucked against his chest, your leg draped over his hip, your face buried in the crook of his neck. His fingers trace lazy patterns down your spine, soothing, grounding.
It's so intimate; knowing that's he's inside you, the warmth of him filling you completely as you involuntarily clench around him. The knowledge of his cum still inside you and the slight burn from the stretch that's making your hips sore.
Jude groans quietly, his head tipping back at the overstimulation, his eyes falling closed as he tries to calm himself down. “Hold on, love, just a second.” He hisses out a breath and reaches down to grasp himself at the base before gently pulling out, whispering sweet nothings and soft apologies at the wince you let out.
The feeling of emptiness is immediate, your walls clenching, but you say nothing, just bite your lip and look away as Jude reaches for his shirt. He wipes himself clean before he getting up. You watch with confusion as he slips on his boxers and slides out of the tent. But it's not long before he's back. He crawls back inside with a wet cloth, a small bowl of fruits you packed earlier and your water bottle. He sits down next to you with a soft smile, the cloth held out in his hands. Your cheeks grow warm as you realize what he’s doing. 
“Spread your legs for me, princess .” His voice is soft, gentle. He waits patiently for you to do as he asks, and the way his eyes soften as you listen… It makes tears well up in your eyes. To be taken care of like this—is beyond what you expected. He cleans you gently before he sets the cloth down and reaches for the bowl of fruit.
His eyes light up as he holds a grape to your lips and you accept it with a giggle. He hands you a slice of apple next, and you take a bite, smiling softly at the sight of his relaxed expression. It's like nothing else exists, like only you two are here in the moment. After you finish your snack, he holds out your water bottle and you thank him as you take a long drink.
Jude watches you with something dangerously close to adoration, his gaze flickering over your face like he’s memorizing every little thing—your flushed cheeks, your sleepy eyes, the way your lips glisten as you sip from the bottle. His fingers trail absentmindedly over your thigh, warm and soothing, tracing lazy patterns onto your skin.
“You okay, love?” he murmurs, his voice thick with something soft, something that makes your chest feel too tight.
You nod, still shy, still unsure what to do with all the emotions swirling inside you.
Jude must sense it, must see the way you hesitate, the way your fingers fidget in your lap. He tilts your chin up with the barest touch of his fingers, forcing you to meet his gaze. His thumb brushes over your lower lip, his expression unreadable.
"You're thinkin' too much," he teases gently. "Wanna tell me what's goin' on in that pretty little head of yours?"
You hesitate, your throat bobbing as you swallow. But under his gaze, so open and patient, you find yourself whispering, "Just… I don’t know how to explain it." Your fingers toy with the hem of the blanket, suddenly fascinated by the texture. "I just feel… full."
His brows lift, and for a second, a wicked smirk plays at the corners of his lips. “Full, huh?”
Your eyes widen as you catch the meaning, and you smack his arm with an indignant squeak. "Not like that, Jude!"
His laugh rumbles deep in his chest, rich and warm, and you feel it against your cheek where you’ve buried your face again, hiding. His arms wrap around you, pulling you against him with ease, his lips brushing against your temple.
"Alright, alright," he murmurs, amusement still thick in his voice. "I’ll behave."
You huff, but the way his fingers thread through your hair, his touch slow and methodical, makes your body melt against him. He presses a kiss to your forehead, then your nose, then your lips, taking his time with each one like he’s savoring the taste of you.
“You feel full,” he echoes, more serious now, as if he’s trying to understand. "Full of what, love?"
Your lashes flutter as you blink up at him, "I love you, Jude Bellingham ."
His eyes widen, a flicker of surprise crossing his features, but then a softness takes over, and his arms tighten, his hands cupping your face with such gentle care.
“Y/N Y/L/N” His voice is low, raspy, filled with something deep and real. "I love you too. More than I ever thought it was possible to feel. You’re my everything, Y/N. I never wanna spend another night without you in my arms. Every day without you feels too long, too much, too wrong. Will you marry me?"
The world slows, the weight of his words sinking into your bones, melting into the marrow. You blink, stunned, your breath caught somewhere between your ribs as your heart hammers wildly against your chest.
He shifts slightly, one arm still wrapped around you, the other reaching into the pocket of his discarded jeans. You watch, wide-eyed, as he pulls out a small velvet box. The soft glow of the lantern casts golden hues on his face, highlighting the nervous anticipation in his warm brown eyes.
“Jude…” Your voice is barely a whisper, your fingers trembling as you reach up, touching his cheek as if to confirm it’s real and not some dream spun from the afterglow of your love.
He smiles, tilting his head just slightly into your touch, his thumb tracing gentle circles against the small of your back. “Yeah, love. It’s real,” he murmurs, as if reading your thoughts. “Been carryin’ this around for weeks, waitin’ for the right time. And I realized… there’s no better time than right now.”
He flicks open the box, revealing a delicate ring, the band slender and elegant, a diamond nestled in its center, catching the lantern light and scattering it in tiny flecks across the canvas of the tent. Your breath catches, tears welling in your eyes, blurring the sight of it.
“Y/N, you are the best thing that’s ever happened to me,” he says, his voice steady, thick with emotion. “I know we haven't been together long, but I can’t live without you. Every single day, you make me happier than I ever thought I deserved. I love you. I love your shy little smiles, the way you tuck your face into my neck when you get flustered. I love the way you look at me like I hung the stars, when really, you’re the one that lights up my whole world.”
A soft, overwhelmed sound escapes your lips, something between a laugh and a sob, and he grins, his dimples carving into his cheeks.
“You don’t have to say yes right now,” he adds quickly, as if he’s worried you might feel pressured, as if he can’t bear to see even a hint of hesitation in your eyes. “I just… I want you to know that I’m all in. I wanna be yours for the rest of my life. Whenever you’re ready, whenever you want me—I’m here.”
Your hands shake as you reach for the box, fingers barely brushing the velvet before you shift, pressing forward, wrapping yourself around him as best as you can. Your lips find his—soft, eager, trembling against his own. He catches your breathy gasp with a quiet groan, deepening the kiss, his hands firm at your waist, pulling you impossibly close.
When you finally pull away, you’re breathless, your forehead resting against his. “Yes,” you whisper, voice thick with emotion. “Yes, Jude. I want you—I want forever with you.”
The way his face lights up, the way pure joy radiates from him—it steals the very breath from your lungs. “Yeah?” His voice wavers just slightly, disbelief laced into the happiness.
You nod fervently, laughing softly as tears slip down your cheeks. “Yes. A million times, yes.”
A sound rumbles in his chest—something between relief and elation—as he slips the ring onto your finger, his hands shaking slightly. And then he’s kissing you again, laughing against your lips, his hands tangling in your hair, his body pressing you back down onto the soft blanket beneath you.
“You’ve just made me the happiest man alive, love.” His voice is warm, reverent, as his lips trail along your jaw, down the column of your throat. His fingers find your hand, threading through yours, the cool metal of your new ring pressing against his skin. “I swear, I’ll spend every day making sure you never regret saying yes to me.”
You smile, your free hand slipping into his curls, tugging just slightly until he looks up at you, his eyes dark with something deep, something infinite. “I could never regret you, Jude.”
His breath stutters, and then he’s kissing you again, deep and slow, his love spilling from his lips, from the way his hands trace over your skin.
When he finally pulls away, you’re dazed, breathless, your fingers still curled into his like you don’t want him to go too far.
Jude chuckles, resting his forehead against yours again. “Gotta say, camping’s never been this fun before.”
You giggle, and the sound makes something warm bloom in his chest.
“I think I like it too,” you admit, your voice small, “Especially… with you.”
His arms tighten around you, and when he speaks next, his voice is quieter, raw with something unspoken.
“Good. ‘Cause I plan on makin’ a lot more memories with you, princess.” He tilts his head just enough to steal another soft kiss. “Forever and always, huh?”
“Forever and always,” you echo, smiling into the next kiss.
-Bianca🌻
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hoshifighting ¡ 2 months ago
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i love your college fling writings sm aaaa (*≧∀≦*)!! begging on hands and knees for college fling jun 🙏 esp if he’s a bit more on the dom side
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college fling!jun
WARNINGS: smut, bio!genius jun, clit stimulation, oral (f. receiving), cock riding, a little dom!jun, non-established relationship.
it’s a thursday afternoon, the sort of day where the mood smells like cheap cafeteria food and half-assed desperation, ‘cause exams are coming and no one knows shit. you’re slouched over your bio notes in the library, chewing the end of your pen like it owes you some kind of lamp genie, and then boom—in struts college fling!jun.
college fling!jun, who hates the college lockers so much he straight-up just carries all his books around like some kind of over-prepared, slightly chaotic mule. deadass, his backpack looks ready to burst, and you’re already side-eyeing it, wondering how many goddamn textbooks one man could possibly need.
“you okay there?” he plops down across from you, hair slightly messy, and there’s this little grin playing at his lips. why’s he gotta look so cute when you’re on the brink of a mental breakdown?
“nah, i’m actually about to file for emotional bankruptcy,” you mutter, flipping through your notes like the answers are gonna manifest themselves through sheer panic. “you done with the bio assignment?”
college fling!jun, shy-but-funny, lowkey-genius college fling!jun, tilts his head and smirks. “you need help?”
you blink. “you know bio?”
“do i know bio?” he scoffs, dragging your notebook closer like you personally insulted him. “sit back, y/n.”
next thing you know, he’s rattling off answers about cell division and DNA replication like he’s reading straight outta the textbook, except better, ‘cause he’s throwing in jokes about mitochondria being the “bad bitch” of the cell world. who even is this man?
college fling!jun, who spent half the semester cracking dumb jokes about your prof’s comb-over, suddenly explaining concepts better than the professor himself? unreal.
“wait, wait,” you interrupt, pointing at a diagram. “so, like, the nucleus is just… chilling in the middle, bossing everyone around?”
he grins, leaning in closer, and damn, his perfume smells too good for a guy who looks like he only owns three hoodies. “exactly. it’s like me at a group project—doesn’t do much, but still gets credit.”
“i hate you,” you snort, but you’re laughing anyway, and somehow your brain is actually clicking with the material.
college fling!jun, who makes studying feel like less of a slow, painful death.
later, as you’re packing up, he scratches the back of his neck, looking all shy again, and it’s such a whiplash from confident bio-genius jun that you almost laugh. “uh, so… you wanna grab coffee or something? you know, as a reward for surviving bio?”
you raise an eyebrow. “this isn’t you trying to weasel into my project group again, is it?”
“what? no,” he says, but he’s grinning, and you already know he’s lying.
college fling!jun, who probably would try to scam his way into your group, but makes it so damn endearing you’d let him anyway.
it’s late—like, stupid late. the kinda late where your brain feels like it’s melting into a puddle of useless mush. you and jun are on the floor of your dorm, the carpet rough under your knees, surrounded by markers, cut-out letters, and one very sad excuse for a poster board. everyone else dipped like two hours ago, muttering something about “early classes” and “not wanting to lose brain cells”—like, rude much? but jun stayed.
college fling!jun, who’s now sitting cross-legged with his sleeves pushed up, forearms all veiny as he’s meticulously lining up the title letters.
“you’re actually kinda good at this,” you say, crawling closer on your knees, one hand pushing your hair back as it flops into your face. you’re half-joking, but also… not? like, his focus is insane.
he glances up, smirking. “you doubted me?”
“uh, yeah?” you deadpan, sitting back on your heels. “you’re the guy who brought a backpack full of biology books to a history lecture. forgive me for not immediately trusting your poster skills.”
he snorts, shaking his head as he smooths down a corner of the title. “at least I came prepared.”
“prepared for what? a different class?”
“y/n,” he says, tone mock-serious as he leans back on his hands, “you’re lucky you’re cute.”
that shuts you up for a second. the compliment—casual, like he didn’t just drop it in the middle of a roast session—has you blinking. you recover quick, though, because if college fling!jun is good at anything, it’s teasing, and you’re not about to let him have the upper hand.
“yeah, yeah,” you say, waving him off as you grab a marker and doodle a little star in the corner of the poster. “you keep saying that, but I haven’t seen you make a move yet. scared?”
his eyes flick to yours, and there’s this little glint in them that makes your stomach flip. “scared? of you?”
“yes, actually.”
he laughs, but there’s something about the way he’s looking at you now—like he’s considering something, weighing it. you’re close—closer than you realized, kneeling in front of him while he’s still sitting, one hand resting casually on his thigh.
“come here,” he says.
you tilt your head. “why?”
he leans forward, just a little, until you’re close enough to feel the warmth radiating off him. “because I said so.”
there’s a challenge in his tone, and you’re not one to back down. so, you shuffle closer, knees brushing against his as you sit back on your heels again. “happy now?”
he hums, eyes flicking over your face like he’s trying to memorize every detail. “getting there.”
“jun,” you start joking, half-something-else-entirely, but before you can finish, his hand slides up to cup your jaw, fingers warm against your skin as he leans in and kisses you.
he’s waiting for you to push him away. but you don’t. instead, you kiss him back, your hands finding their way to his shoulders, pulling him closer until there’s no space left between you.
and then… well, the guy’s got skills. his lips move against yours with this easy credit, and when his tongue flicks out to trace the seam of your mouth, you can’t help the little noise that escapes you. he takes that as encouragement, deepening the kiss until you’re dizzy, your fingers digging into his shoulders as you try to keep up.
college fling!jun, who’s apparently really, really good with his mouth.
you pull back just enough to catch your breath, your forehead resting against his as you both try to steady yourselves. “okay,” you say, voice a little breathless, “so you’re not scared.”
he laughs, low and soft, his hand still cradling your jaw. “nope. but you might be.”
before you can ask what he means, he’s kissing you again, harder this time, and then his hands are on your hips, pulling you into his lap like it’s nothing easier than that. you go willingly, settling against him as your hands find their way into his hair, tugging just enough to make him groan against your mouth.
you’re both a little frantic now, hands wandering as the kiss turns messy, desperate. his fingers slide under the hem of your shirt, skimming over your skin and leaving a trail of heat in their wake. you shiver, pressing closer, and he takes the opportunity to mouth at your neck, his teeth grazing just enough to make you gasp.
“jun,” you moan, and it’s enough to make him pause, pulling back just enough to look at you.
“umm... so do you…”
you nod before he can even finish the question, your hands tugging at his shirt in answer. he grins, and then he’s helping you pull it off, tossing it somewhere behind him without a second thought.
college fling!jun, who’s skinny but stupidly cut, all lean muscle and sharp lines that you can’t help but trace with your fingers as he kisses you again.
“your turn,” he murmurs against your mouth, his hands already tugging at the hem of your shirt. you lift your arms, letting him pull it off.
“you’re so…” he starts, but then he shakes his head, like words aren’t enough. instead, he leans in, kissing you again as his hands explore, mapping out your chest, by pinching your nipples
things blur after that—when he finally settles between your thighs, his lips trailing kisses down your stomach, you think you might actually lose your marbles.
college fling!jun, who’s apparently a goddamn expert when it comes to going down on you. his tongue swinging your clit to the sides just to suck it all right after. your fingers are tangled in his hair, and you even feel pity about his scalp. he doesn’t stop until you’re cumming inside his mouth—you last minutes by the way—, your back arching off the floor as you cry out, your other hand holding a highlighter that you've found on the floor and decided that would be your stress ball.
and then he’s kissing his way back up your body, touching your hand to release the poor highlighter before it explodes in your hand. as he presses a kiss to the corner of your mouth. “still think I’m scared?” he teases and you don’t even have the energy to come up with a clever reply.
college fling!jun, who’s cocky as hell but more than backs it up.
you pull him down for another kiss, your hands fumbling with the waistband of his sweatpants as you shift your hips, sinking down onto his lap. the stretch is dizzying. u hear your blood flow through your ears with the immediate sink, making your head spin as he grips your hips,.
college fling!jun who twitches every time you circle your clit as you ride him. the little gasps he lets out are addictive, this stuttered rhythm of groans and whines that have you clenching around him just to see how he’ll react.
“uhm—hands to yourself.” he chokes out, his head tilting back, exposing the long line of his neck, his adam apple bobbing up and down. you take advantage, leaning forward to press kisses there, feeling the pulse of his heartbeat against your lips. his hands tighten on your waist, his thighs flexing under you as he buck his hips up into you as a warning.
“j-jun,” you stammer, breath hitching as you shift, grinding down, making wet shots reach his ears, his head snaps up, eyes dark and glassy as they lock onto yours.
“you like that?” he rasps, his chest heaving as he fights to keep himself together. “‘cause i… i love watching you like this, pretty.”
college fling!jun, who moans loud enough to embarrass himself but is too lost in the feeling of you to care. his grip on you tightens as you find a rhythm. his noises grow louder, needier, every time you roll your hips, and you can feel the tension in his body, the way his muscles tighten as he gets closer, he always punishing you a little for teasing him, a pinch on your clit, a bite on your neck, a slap on your ass.
“y/n,” he groans, his voice shaking, and you’re right there with him, your own climax building as you reach down between your bodies, your fingers brushing against your clit again. the added sensation has you gasping, and he twitches inside you, his hands pulling you down hard against him as he lets out a broken moan.
“you’re so… gorgeous, fuck!” he mutters, his words slurred, and that’s all it takes for you to cum, your body fluttering as you cry out his name. the sound of it seems to tip him over the edge, his grip on you tightening as he follows, his body shaking beneath you as he spills inside you.
college fling!jun who collapses back onto the carpet, dragging you down with him, his arms wrapping around your ass, letting his hands lazily squeeze the meat there.
it’s like nothing happened when you two go to the college hallways to finish the project. when actually, everything happened all at once. jun’s sitting at the edge of your desk, eating one of your granola bars like he didn’t have you trembling in his lap just hours ago. you’re pretending to focus on your laptop, but your mind’s stuck on how his hair’s still a little messy and his shirt’s on inside out—your fault, obviously.
“what’s with the face?” he asks, mouth half-full, grinning like he knows exactly what’s with the face.
“you didn’t even ask before raiding my snacks,” you say, aiming for annoyed but landing somewhere near flustered.
“c’mon, you owe me,” he teases, leaning closer. “all that… effort? you’re lucky i’m still standing.”
you glare at him, but your face burns. “junhui, shut up.”
college fling!jun, who bites his lip to stop himself from laughing but ends up chuckling anyway, stupidly cute as he swings his legs. you’re about to throw a pen at him when he leans over and kisses your temple.
and that’s how it is now. he’s still jun—still the guy who hoards biology notes and carries all his books like the lockers are his mortal enemy—but there’s this… nerves now, this implicit thing hanging between you. like, when he’s explaining something in class, leaning over your desk, his voice low in your ear, and you’re trying not to think about how those same lips were on your pussy just a few nights ago. or when he slides into the seat next to you during study group, his knee brushing yours, and you glance at him, only to catch him already looking at you with that knowing smirk.
college fling!jun, who’s casual as hell in public but pulls you into empty classrooms when no one’s around, his hands already under your shirt as he kisses you like he’s been dying to all day.
it’s worse at night, though. he texts you at random hours, shit like, “you awake?” and “missed you today” with a dick pic coming right after, hard and dripping for you—like always. like he’s not gonna be in your bed an hour later, his hands sliding over your skin as he whispers your name.
“we’re so bad at this,” you tell him one night, lying tangled in his sheets, his arm thrown over your waist as he presses lazy kisses to your shoulder.
“bad at what?” he murmurs sleepy.
“keeping it casual,” you say, glancing back at him. “you’re always here, jun.”
he shrugs, pulling you closer. “maybe i like being here.”
college fling!jun, who’s starting to feel like more than a fling, but neither of you’s ready to say it out loud just yet. instead, you let it keep happening—the late-night visits, the stolen kisses between classes, the way he looks at you like you’re the only thing that matters.
and maybe you’re not ready to say it, but you’re definitely feeling it. especially when he shows up at your door with takeout and that stupid grin, saying, “figured you’d be hungry,” like he hasn’t already fed you twice today.
college fling!jun, who’s not so casual after all.
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starsinthesky5 ¡ 3 months ago
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husband & dad joe burrow (headcannons) || joe burrow x reader
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description: little things about husband joey and dad joey 
a/n: ahem, the bitch is back 🗣️🗣️ it’s been three long weeks of no fics but im here ;) this was a request i got! i’ve been in my dad/husband joe feels lately and UGH. i can’t. i just felt the urge to write this and get it out asap because he’s just had me in a mood lately that like 🤰🤗
side note- the next part of nothings gonna hurt you baby is coming! thanks for your patience loves 💞
word count: 8.6 k (i got carried away lol)
warnings: fluff, allusions to sex
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husband joe
joe always wakes you up with little kisses in the morning. he knows you hate alarms because of how startling they can be, so instead, he presses his gentle lips against the soft skin of your face to ease you into waking up. his trail of kisses always starts on your jawline and ends at your lips, he hits every single spot that he knows you love to be kissed at. you usually wake up midway through his little gesture, but you love the feeling of his lips on you too much so you only open your eyes when he’s done. he always has this lazy look on his face, his voice raspy and scratchy, his hair all messy and soft. he’s so adorable when he wakes up, and even cuter when you open your eyes because his smile gets bigger. “morning, princess,” he mumbles before leaning in for another kiss. you wouldn’t want to be woken up any other way
joey always makes your morning coffee for you. he says “can’t have wifey walking around all cute and snuggly but acting like zombie,”. you never have to ask him to do it for you, he just knows. he knows exactly what kind of coffee you want, how many splashes of creamer, and specifically what mug you like to have it in. it was a little souvenir mug you got during your honeymoon from the almafi coast in italy. sometimes he'll even warm the mug before pouring the coffee, just so it's extra cozy. those little things he did for you were your absolute favorite. you really didn’t need anything else in the morning, just joey and his perfectly brewed, as he called it, "love in a cup"
during the off season, he’d even make you breakfast every morning—regardless of whether he had something going on that he had to do. it was a routine for you during those months, walking down the stairs to the smell of cooked bacon and freshly chopped fruits while he was flipping pancakes on the griddle. you’d make your way downstairs, sit on the kitchen island, and just watch him like a lovesick fool, his bare back to you as he worked away, humming softly to the music in the background. he enjoyed making you breakfast with the soft melodies of sweet, classic love songs playing. some of his favorites were “it had to be you” by frank sinatra, “hopelessly devoted to you” by olivia newton-john, and “look after you” by the fray. you loved to see him like this, so normal, simple…so husband. seeing him doing something so simple and domestic made your heart swell. he was in total "husband mode" according to you when he was cooking
and whenever he put that chef's apron over his bare chest...let's just say the pancakes didn't always turn out as perfect as they could. it didn't take long for his attention to shift--especially when he caught you looking at him a certain way. before you knew it, the pancakes would burn and he'd be too distracted by other things to care ;)
joey is such a cuddle monster in private. the man cannot keep his hands off you when you’re alone together. you thought you had seen the peak of his cuddle monster ways when you were dating, but it only got worse after you got married. he just needed to have his head lying on your chest or burrowed in your neck. he loved to have his legs tangled with yours, bonus points if he had his seinfeld sweats on. that was maximum “on some comfy shit” vibes for him. you didn’t mind, his warmth was the best feeling in the entire world 
and whenever you tried to get up to go do something, he’d follow you around like an adorable lost puppy, waiting for you to be done so you could go back to snuggling
after a late night out with your girls, joe would always help you get un-ready. he'd be there with a bottle of remover and some cotton pads, gently removing your makeup as he asked you about your night. he'd help you get undressed, guide you through brushing your teeth, and then help you get cozy in bed. he would then plug in your phone for you, fill up the water bottle you kept on your nightstand, and clean up any mess in your bedroom. he knew you'd be dealing with a hangover the next morning, so he took care of all the little things so that your only job was to rest
joe leaves you little hidden notes around the house--inside your purse, tucked into a book you were reading, or in drawers around the house. each note was filled with sweet messages reminding you how much he loves you and appreciates you
"you make me a better man. thank you for loving me as I am"  - found in your skincare drawer "i fall in love with you more each day. you're my everything," - hidden under your pillow "remember our first date at the planetarium? i still get butterflies every time I see you, just like I did then," - stuck to your vanity mirror "i'm head over cleats for you :)" - taped to your shoes "what does taylor swift say in her one song? oh right, "have you ever thought just maybe...you belong with me ;) ?" - taped to your shampoo bottle "remember our first date at the planetarium? i still get butterflies every time I see you, just like I did then," - stuck to your vanity mirror
"you make me feel so high school every time i look at you." - tucked into your planner "i know how to ball, and you know aristotle. well, we both do. but you're a bigger philosophy buff than me :)" - tucked into your computer "i love the feeling of your skin against mine. i want to feel that warmth all night," - found inside your book "just a little reminder that i can't wait to have you all to myself tonight. you drive me wild," - taped to your bottle of pomegranate juice “i love my wife. i love my wife. i love love LOVE my wife :),” - taped to your jewelry stand "i've been thinking about the last time we...let's do that again, shall we? - found on the full body mirror in the bedroom, hinting at a special moment "i love when you wear this dress. it drives me fucking wild. you're so god damn sexy baby," - taped to that little lacy red dress you wore for his birthday last year "you've intercepted my heart," - tucked under your waterbottle
joe is weirdly (it's so cute though) obsessed with getting the laundry done just right. he knows the exact way you like your clothes folded, and he's mastered the wash cycle for some of your delicate tops. sometimes, when you're tired and lazy after a hard day at work, you'll come home to find your laundry neatly folded on the side of your bed. you wouldn't have to ask him to do it, he would just know. he's definitely beating the "he can't do his own laundry" allegations ;)
joe didn't let the fact that you two were now married and together for life get in the way of still having weekly date nights. sometimes it would be as simple as ordering chinese takeout and watching a movie in bed, wearing your comfiest clothes. other times, he'd choose a free night during the week and surprise you with a night out at a restaurant you'd wanted to try or an activity that brought out your silly sides (mini golf, bowling, etc). sometimes he would even cook up a little dinner for you, candlelit table and everything. he would say, "just because we're married, doesn't mean i'm done wooing you,". it honestly didn’t matter what you two did, as long as you were together, everything was perfect
every week it felt like you were still dating, still falling for each other, deeper and deeper, one date night at a time
joe insists on driving you everywhere, no matter the weather or even if you could've driven yourself. you have a nail appointment? joe drives you. you need to go to the store? joe drives you. you want to go to your besties place? joe drives you. he loves the excuse to spend extra time with you, and you'll catch him reaching for your hand at every red light and stop sign
those drives are filled with secret--not so secret--glances too. he just can't stop staring at you, like ever. you're the most beautiful thing he's ever set his eyes on, sometimes not even being able to believe that you were real
after a long game, joe would likely come home exhausted, but he's never too tired to check in on you first. he'll let you fuss over him--ice packs, massage gun and all--but in return he makes sure you've got everything you need for your night. whether that's a hot bath, a cup of tea, or just a spare hour to let you bitch and complain about the game because he knows you get heated very fast when watching football. he knew that all this was just as mentally exhausting for you as it was him. he couldn’t imagine how it felt to be in the stands every week, watching him get tackled to the ground and fight his way to victory. but the fact that you still stuck around, after all the pain and frustration that this brought you, stood out to him. you were always there for him, no matter what
“thank you for being there for me. you’ve been with me through it all–every practice, every game, every injury, every tough loss...and even through the pressure, the media, and the expectations that never seem to let up. you’ve seen the worst parts of this career–the long hours, the hits I take, the doubts that creep in after a tough game–and still, you’re always there, no matter what. unconditionally. i don’t even think I can put it into words…how much I appreciate you. how much I love you for standing by me. you’re there for me after the worst games, when im beating myself up, and somehow, you always make it better. i don’t know how you do it, but i know i couldn’t do this without you. you make everything feel worth it, even when it’s hard. and i hope you know that, even if i can’t always find the right words to say it. i love you more than anything, and i’m so damn lucky to have you by my side,”
joe goes all out when decorating the house for christmas, and especially did when it was your first christmas as husband and wife. he obsessed over finding the perfect tree, you think you went to maybe 3 or 4 places before settling on the perfect one. it made your heart swell when you remembered the twinkle in his eyes when they landed on the perfect tree. he eagerly yanked you over, his voice all high and laced with excitement. “oo, ooo. we can do like red and gold ornaments. wait no. maybe orange? because go bengals! or would that look tacky. or wait we also have a bunch of those family ornaments so maybe no theme? ah, i don’t care, it’ll be perfect no matter what,”. he was acting like a little kid and it was the cutest damn thing you think you had ever seen
he brought out all the festive pillows, hung all the little lights everywhere he could, and even bought one of those blow-up santa's reindeer decorations for the front yard. "it's our first christmas as a married couple, babe. we're practically obligated to have the best decorated house on the block,"
then when you tried to put a stop to his christmas explosion after you came home and the inside of the house looked like santa’s workshop had exploded inside, he said, "look, if we don't go all out this year, how do we tell our kids one day that we started a tradition of being the most festive couple ever, hmm?" he asked while holding up a ridiculous amount of mistletoe for emphasis
on christmas eve, you two ended up wearing cheesy matching pj's--joe rolls his eyes at them but secretly loves wearing them because its "peak couple behavior" and you two make it work. "i'm only doing this for you," he says, but then you'll find him wearing those same pjs long after christmas is over
joe lowkey is an absolute gift wrapping pro. every gift is cleanly wrapped with perfect corners and bows. he says he learned it from his mama--which wasn't surprising since joey was an absolute mama's boy and looked up to her for everything. he even adds a little note to each gift, reminding you how much he loves you. that he did on his own, something he didn’t get from his mama. that was just your husband being the best damn husband to ever husband
joey secretly hangs mistletoe all over the house and each time you pass under it, he's right there with a silly grin, lips puckered for a kiss. "oh, look where we are again," he smirks every time before pulling you in for his favorite way to pass time
joey surprised you with a custom ornament on christmas eve too. it said "our first christmas, mr. & mrs. burrow", and he looks so proud while giving it to you. you act like you don't notice the blush on his cheeks when you hang it on the tree together, but boy did he feel like exploding into a cloud of pink sparkly dust at that moment
if his hands weren’t always on you, his lips definitely were. you lost count of how many times you two were late for something because he just couldn’t get himself to pull away from your lips. it would usually start innocently, maybe a quick peck or two before heading out--but one kiss would turn into two, then three. before you knew it, he'd have you pressed against the doorframe, his lips lingering longer each time. “mmm, 5 more minutes baby,” he would mumble against your lips before stuffing his hand in your hair and pushing your face closer to his. you would try to resist by laughing between kisses and reminding him you had to go, but he'd just smile at you and then lean in for another one
joe has a habit of surprising you with flowers, but never for a specific reason. he'll come home with a bouquet of flowers on a random day after practice, saying something like, "just felt like my wife deserved this today for being the amazing woman she is,"
joe often stays up late watching game film before important games, but he always invites you to come sit with him on the couch, even if you end up falling asleep midway. you'll wake up with his arm draped around you, the TV quietly playing game highlights and he'll whisper, "sorry honey, i didn't mean to wake you up," before dropping a sweet kiss to your forehead. but there are times where you stay awake and watch the film with him, snuggled up together on the couch. when he's in analysis mode, he'll absentmindedly start explaining plays to you, "okay, so if you're the wide receiver, you'll run this route," he says while guiding your hand to demonstrate. it always ends up with him getting...distracted though. the game film had long been forgotten as the only route joe was concerned about was the route he was going to let his lips take to the place where you needed him the most ;)
even though joe is the star on the field, you're the star off the field. whether it's a work event, casual dinner, or something important to you--joe's there for you in full support. you are the star of the show, the most important thing in the universe. he'll be cheering you on like it's the super bowl or something. he just loves to see you work hard and have that pay off. he loves to see good things happen to you because you deserve all the happiness humanly possible
he’s always the loudest clapper and cheerer whenever you get an award or recognition at work. he’s the first one to shoot up from his chair when your name is called, and the last one to sit down after you’re done being serenaded with praise. he knows how much you support him, how you tirelessly shower him with love and support. so he always makes sure to do the exact same for you
before every game, you slip a little handwritten note into joe's locker with some words of encouragement and something to make him laugh, even for a brief moment. "bring home that win and I'll have a sweet treat waiting," or "you make this look so damn easy. go out there and do your thing, baby. i'll be cheering for you, always," or even "the faster you wrap up that win, the sooner we can play our own game. i've got a new playbook for you to try. hint: it involves less clothing,". he always kept these notes in his bag and will read them when he's feeling stressed or overwhelmed--during halftime or even before the game again--and they'll act as a little boost
joe’s love language is all of the above. but gifts, physical touch, and quality time were the frontrunners
gifts-
he showers you with gifts all the time, for absolutely no reason. one day you’ll come home to a new handbag waiting for you on the table. or a new necklace to add to your expensive collection (he has great taste). or you’ll be surprised with adorable little things like a new stuffed teddy bear or a funny spongebob sweatshirt (you both were equally as obsessed with the cartoon). he loved to buy you things for no reason because he just loved to see that bashful smile on your face and your little nose scrunch up
you even remember that one halloween when he made you a boo-basket after overhearing one of his teammates talk about making one for their wife. after hearing that, joe went straight to the store to pick up the essentials and then when he got home, got started on the more...extravagant pieces of the basket. joe covered all the grounds with it, even adding in his own flair. there was a cozy blanket, a bunch of sweet treats and savory snacks, halloween candy, a few candles, a book you’d been wanting to read for a while, face masks, fuzzy socks, a new heating pad, and new ugg slippers. but then there was also a new diamond tennis bracelet, a new pair of cartier shades (so you can match him), and a little designer clutch to go along with a new dress you bought just a few weeks before
during the off season, he would occasionally surprise you with spontaneous weekend getaways as he knew you loved traveling. he would always take you somewhere you were dreaming of--a cozy cabin, a beachside resort, or even a staycation at a fancy hotel nearby
after one of his biggest wins--his first AFC championship win--joe had a game ball set aside just for you. on the ball he wrote, "this one's for you, forever and always yours - j.b". it sits in a display case in your home, a constant reminder of how you're always on his mind, even in his biggest moments
every season, joe gives you a signed jersey (one of his own, of course. usually the first jersey from week 1). each jersey has a personal message for you on the inside of the collar like "my #1" or "forever yours" and are dated to match the significant milestones. you have a collection of them now, and they're one of the most treasurable things you own
quality time- 
anytime together was quality time for joe. whether that be picking out new paint colors for the house or new tiles for your bathroom, or snuggling up on the couch together to watch trashy reality tv, or sitting on the back porch with a glass of wine and watching the sunset. he just loved any and all time he got with you
he always made sure to make time for you. football took up quite a bit of his time, but that made it even more important to take time out for you
one thing joe loved to do with you was late night drives and walks
he loved to drive around with you on the golf cart, especially down to the river behind the house. your head leaning on his shoulder, fingers entwined, and the breeze blowing through your hair. it was so simple yet so pleasurable for him. it gave him the serenity he craved every day, an escape from his chaotic football world
late night walks were also exciting for him. he loved to take you out for a lap or two around the neighborhood after dinner. the only light was coming from the lamposts and the moon above you two. oftentimes during these walks, you two would have some of your deepest, intimate conversations. before you got married, those deep conversations would be about marriage, about your future. but since that was now sealed, your deep conversations would be about things such as kids, his future in cincinnati, and where you two see yourself in 15 years. but it didn't always have to be serious. you two would often find yourselves giggling about aliens, time travel, and old stories from your days back at LSU
oh and he also just loved to spend time between your legs
physical touch-
joe is handsy as hell. he’d always been like that, but you thought it would die down as the years went by and you two started acting more like a unit than a bunch of horny college kids. but those two things can be true at the same time
he’s always holding your hand when he can. he needs to feel you at all times. whether it’s holding hands in the car, holding hands underneath the dining table at dinner with friends or family, or holding hands in a crowded room to calm his anxieties. he just needed that touch. his hand is also often found at your waist or in the back pocket of your jeans. he likes to have it in your jean pocket because according to him, “it’s the only way i can touch your ass with decency in public,”
he also had a habit of fidgeting with your wedding ring. you don’t know why but he just loved to play with it, twist it around your finger
the reason was that he just needed to remind himself that it was there. that it was real and it was on your finger. sometimes he couldn’t believe that you were his wife, couldn’t believe that someone like you was with him till the day he died
he’s also handsy in some…other ways ;) 
if he could, he would absolutely keep you in bed with him for eternity
he was so damn good in bed. like everytime you guys got down to it, you’d be left breathless, speechless, and in awe
as your marriage progressed, the sex only got better and better. he knew what you liked and what you didn’t like, so he made the things you did like even more intense. he wasn’t opposed to trying new things at all either, as long as you were comfortable and felt satisfied. he wanted to do whatever he could to bring you to heaven
also because there was no need to be careful anymore. you were married. you wanted kids together. and well, the rest is self explanatory....but once he got to feel you without any barriers, that's when he really went feral. like a whole other level of down bad for you. he really needed to be pried off of you because he could never get enough of you or your body
joe loved praising you the entire time too, and honestly, you earned it. the way you'd make him feel in bed was unlike anything he'd ever felt before. you were so insanely sexy, so insanely good at it all. every time you two got down to it, you'd make it unforgettable ;)
"baby...fuck you're amazing. i can't get enough of..oh..i can't get enough of you. you're doing so well...just like that...do what you want. make yourself feel good, y/n...take it,"
joe was so obsessed with you, and that love and infatuation had not once gone down over the years. it somehow got bigger. he was so happy to be your husband, and he was even happier that you were his wife. 
engagement and honeymoon joe
you and joe had been dating for about 4 years before he popped the question. from the very beginning, he knew you were his girl. his forever girl. his special girl. he loved you quite literally more than life itself, nothing could ever come before you. you were his biggest priority. joe from years ago would've laughed if someone told him that in the future, something else other than football would become his first priority. but joe now? joe now was proud of the fact that you were his biggest priority. he was proud to shower you with unwavering love, and affection; he loved being able to give you the world. loved being able to give his wife everything she could ever want
there was never a doubt in his mind, but it wasn't until just after your fourth anniversary that he decided to make it official. he was waiting for all the stars to align before doing it. you weren't surprised that he did--he'd always dropped hints about the future, about how he couldn't imagine his life without you. but you were surprised by when he did it
he flew both of you down to louisiana for a few days that summer, claiming that it was a work trip. it was a work trip on the surface. he was helping with scouting, recruitment, and training as he was one of, if not the most, successful LSU football alums in recent years. but on a deeper level, this was the proposal trip. every moment seemed casual, perfectly normal, but you didn't know he had a ring, the ring, tucked away; waiting for just the right time to turn this work trip into the start of forever
he had an entire day set aside just for you two. it started with breakfast at one of your favorite spots from your LSU days--a cozy little diner, just walking distance from joe's old apartment. you two used to find yourselves in the same booth every weekend, sharing pancakes and debriefing your weeks together with endless cups of coffee. it was like stepping back in time, a sweet nod to the beginning of your journey together. then, he took you to the planetarium--the same place he brought you on your very first date. he'd always been fascinated by space, and you remembered how he told you that his universe seemed a little less overwhelming with you in it; that you were the brightest star in his sky, and you outshined everything else
it was as if he was recreating the milestones of your relationship that day, building up to something bigger
then he took you to a romantic dinner at the same restaurant where he told you he loved you for the first time--yet another milestone recreated. he got the same table, the same food items, and even got you the same flowers he did on your first date. he remembered it all
after that, he ended up driving you to Tiger Stadium
you were so confused as to why you were at the football stadium that night, especially because there was no event going on that joe needed to be a part of. the entire stadium was empty except for you two. you thought it was just a little walk down memory lane, but little did you know, joey had other plans
joe had always been sappy when it came to big moments in your relationship, so when it came time to propose, he knew there was only one place where it could happen. the same place he first asked you to be his girlfriend: LSU’s Tiger Stadium—after one of the most important games of the season back during his first year at LSU. this was the place where he was now going to ask you to be his wife. yet another milestone was recreated, but also another milestone being created at the same time
you didn't think much of it as you two walked hand in hand through the tunnel and onto the turf, you could almost hear the echoes and chants of the crowds from years ago. but when he led you to the exact spot where he asked you to be his girlfriend--the fifty years line--your heart skipped a beat
"remember this?" he asked, his voice soft and gentle, his body filled with nostalgia
but then you saw his expression shift to something more serious, more raw as he looked around at the stadium he once called his home. he reached into his pocket and got down on one knee right there, right in the middle of the field. "this place means everything to me. it's where my dreams started, where I became the player I am today. but it's also where we started. where I asked you to be my girl for the first time. everything changed when you said yes, and since then you've been my biggest support, my constant, my person. it hit me early on that there's no one else i'd rather have by my side. not just through the football stuff, but through life. and i realized there's no place more perfect than this...to ask you what i've been dreaming about for years. this is where we started--where i first asked you to be mine. now i'm asking you for forever. y/n, you're my heart, my home, my everything. you single handedly rocked my entire world when you first walked in, and now i just can't get enough of you. i want to spend the rest of my life loving you, making you laugh, and building a life together. will you marry me?"
and he even got the jumbotron to show an old photo of the two of you from the night he asked you to be his girlfriend, right at the exact spot where he was on one knee right in front of you
when he opened the little velvet box, you felt like your heart popped out of your chest. the ring he had for you was the most gorgeous thing you had ever set your eyes on, well other than joe. it was custom made, designed to resemble the promise ring he gave you all those years ago
small diamonds lined the sides of the ring, giving it an extra sparkle that caught the light with every movement. he knew you loved sparkle, so he made sure the ring was extra sparkley
the breathtaking cushion-cut diamond in the middle of the ring was just perfect. a little halo of smaller diamonds surrounded it, highlighting it's brilliance just enough
the most special part of the ring was the inside of the band. inside, the words "forever and always yours - j.b" were engraved in cursive, just like your promise ring
and of course you said yes to his proposal. why would you not? he was your dream man. this was your dream
the hours after the proposal were so magical
the first thing he did was pull out his phone and call your family, excitedly sharing the news of your engagement with them. the proud smile on joe's face is forever burned into your head. he was so excited to make you his wife. he was oozing love that night. you'd never seen him so in love before
then, you guys had some celebratory drinks to commemorate the engagement. let's just say you two might have had one too many glasses of champagne because, by the end of the night, you two were honestly contemplating if you should elope to a foreign country next week and get married
you fell asleep that night dreaming together. you talked about your dreams for the future--where you see yourself living, your dream vacation spots, and even little details about your wedding like the flavor of cake. "i want red velvet," was all joe said when you brought up the cake. "i want red velvet. i want red velvet. if you love me, you'll let me have red velvet,"
for your honeymoon, joe took you to the amalfi coast, italy. one of your dream destinations
each evening, you two took long, romantic walks along the coastline. you walked hand in hand along the scenic walkways, the gorgeous sun setting behind you which casted a golden glow on both of you. you both took turns taking photos of little candid moments, laughing as you tried to get the perfect shot. "hey shorty, just hop up on my shoulders," he would cutely tease as you tried to get a good shot of the view, but your height got in the way
joey booked you a private boat tour on one of the days too. you both enjoyed the clear blue waters all day as you were surronded by breathtaking cliffs and coves. you even convinced joe to get a nice tan with you, but his stubborn ass refused to put on sunscreen, so he was a tad but overbaked at the end of the day. "ha, you look like a tomato," you giggled as you booped his red nose
he also booked you a private cooking class where you learn how to make authentic Italian dishes. you both laughed and teased each other while rolling out the fresh pasta and preparing a classic marinara sauce. "mmm, you look so delicious right now," he whispered in your ear as he felt himself get a bit overjoyed at the sight of you in an apron and your hair wrapped in a messy bun, flour all over your cheeks and arms. you pushed him away so you could focus, but in retaliation, he coated his big hands with flour, and then planted each hand on your ass, leaving big floury handprints on your ass which was so visible because of your black dress
you also have quite a few late-night gelato runs
after spending quite a few hours in bed, wrapped up in a passionate, heated bubble, you both would be craving the sweet, cold treat. so you'd quickly throw on some clothes and stumble out of your hotel, finding yourself at the doorsteps of local gelato shops. you tried sooo many flavors on the trip, playfully feeding each other spoonfuls as you walked through the charming streets under the moonlight
the entire trip, you two were so attached at the hip. like way more than usual. you were like magnets. he even made sure that during your beach days, you were secluded and away from everyone else so that nobody would interrupt your makeout sessions...and well, some other things too. he just wanted to be able to love up on his wife in peace
the honeymoon was so perfect. it was like the perfect escape for you two, the best way to start off forever :)
dad joe
joe talks to your baby bump sooo much. sometimes you'll even wake up to his head level with your bump, and the sound of his voice whispering to his unborn daughter. he loved talking to her, not caring if the conversation was one-sided. he just wanted baby tessa to be able to recognize his voice when she was born
"good morning little tiger. mommy is still sleeping but daddy is wide awake. thanks for letting her sleep in, baby. she had a long night because of your little kicks. they hurt sometimes, so just be gentle with her, okay? we love you and can't wait to meet you, pumpkin,"
his featherlight kisses around your belly were both you and your baby's favorite thing. every night before bed, he'd help you moisturize your belly with some special pregnancy lotion you ordered online, and right after he was done, the kisses would begin. the first couple of times he did this, it was calm and quiet. but one night, a kiss to your bump resulted in the baby's first kick
"oh my god, y/n! she kicked! babygirl kicked!" he excitedly said while meeting your eyes. the look on his face just made you want to die right then and there. he was so damn happy. he was just so excited about all of it--for the baby, for you to be a mom, and for him to be a dad
he even gives his football commentary to your bump
during MNF or TNF, you two would be snuggled up on the couch and joe's cheek would be squished up against your swollen belly. your hands would be stuck in his fluffy hair, playing and twirling with the strands as he talked to baby burrow about what was going on in the game. he would have this adorable little smile on his face when he spoke football talk to your bump, because each time he said something, he'd get a little kick in return
"alright, babygirl. you're about to witness some football magic," he says against your belly, his eyes glancing up at you for a second so you could see his excitement. he had a twinkle in his eye as he spoke, "see that guy over there?" he said while pointing at the screen. "that's my buddy. he's got an arm like you wouldn't believe. he's gonna throw a TD any minute and I want you to remember that feeling and sound of excitement for when you watch daddy do the same thing, okay?" he asked, his fingers tracing over your bump as if he was trying to connect with her. and he did, because she gave him a gentle little kick in response
joe took it upon himself to order and read a boatload of parenting books and articles. he wanted to know all the ins and outs of being a dad, even asking advice from all his friends and family. you found it so heartwarming to see the amount of dedication he put into preparing to be a dad. joe always gave everything his 100%, but it seemed like he was giving this particular thing 110%
he got a little too psyched out, however, after reading an article about the appropriate age to let your daughter start dating
"babe. no boys. she can't let that poison seep into her brain? tessa needs to be on top of everything if she wants to be the best possible version of herself, at least until she graduates college. no boys at all," joey said, his expression was so serious it made you giggle
"listen, i was the same way. but then I met you in college. you didn't poison my mind, right? tess will be fine. besides, we have sooooo many years before we need to worry about which boy our daughter is sneaking out at midnight with," you giggled. "babe!" joe gasped, "this is not funny,"
joe loves baby shopping a little too much
going to the baby store with him is like going into victoria's secret with a teenage girl. he was lost in his own little world
as you're browsing through the clothes, he gets overly excited about the little outfits. "the clothes are so tinyyyy," he pouts while picking up a little baby joe burrow jersey. he picks out a bunch of cute little onesies for his babygirl, many of which have cute little football sayings on them like "daddy's cheerleader" or "MVB: most valuable baby". he wanted her wardrobe to match his love for football as much as possible. which is also why a few days later, he came home after practice with a tote bag of baby bengals merch just for her
in the toy section, joe completely loses it. he can't resist touching each plush toy and rattle, often making silly faces or sounds to see what toy gets a reaction from you or your baby bump. "oh wait, i need to get her a squidward plushie. oh wait, i also need to get her a squidward beanie to match me sweatshirt game days," he nodded as he stood in front of the spongebob section with both hands on each sides of his hips. he was already standing just like a dad and you couldn't help but giggle at it
"god, i can't believe we're gonna be parents," he pouted as he walked out of the baby store, bags galore in his hands. "im so excited,"
during labor, joey was the most supportive and gentle husband possible. he was the calm in the storm and just his presence was doing wonders for you
he held your hand, rubbed your back, and helped you through breathing exercises. he was very hands-on, which you loved. his touch always put you at ease
during those intense contractions, he always reminded you to hold eye contact with him. those baby blue eyes were your safe haven and each time you looked into them, you allowed yourself to get lost. the pain of the contractions basically faded away with just one long stare into his warm eyes
joe made sure that he was in communication with the medical staff. he needed to make sure you were receiving the best care possible and that he knew everything that was going on at all times
during labor, he was your biggest cheerlead. whenever you felt anxious or scared, he was right next to you, whispering words of praise into your ear, "you're doing amazing, princess," or "i'm so proud of you mama. you're so strong, i love you so much. she's going to love you,"
joe made sure that you had quiet moments too--where he was just sitting next to you, gently stroking your hand as he talked about how excited he was to meet your baby. he just wanted you to lay back and listen in order to conserve your energy
he even cracks a few jokes during your intense moments to calm you down
breathing during a contraction- "okay, babe, remember: in through the nose, out through the--wait, isn't this basically football practice? you've got better form than half the team right now!" he laughed
after a contraction- "sooo. i guess we can skip leg day for a while after this, huh?"
as he massages your back- "you know, i’ve been meaning to tell you, this is great practice for the halftime pep talks and relaxing mechanisms you'll need for tess when she’s older. if she's anything like her mom, she won't hesitate in marching down to the locker room and cursing out the entire d-line,"
when you're trying to relax- "just think, by the end of the day, we'll have a little new teammate on our roster. you think she's more offense material? or defense?"
after your baby is born, joe's first words are so soft and emotional. he's so overwhelmed with emotions, but the first thing he thinks about, is you
"you did it, princess. you're so incredible, mama," he says as he kisses your forehead, tears in his eyes, completely in awe of you
a few days post birth, you're coming down the stairs after a much needed nap and the sight your met with literally causes you to melt
baby tessa's squished up against joe's bare chest, sleeping while he just held her against him. you can see that he's quietly relishing the moment, this little bonding time with his daughter. her little baby cheek is pushed up against his muscular chest and that alone drives you wild. those raging pregnancy hormones were definitely getting to you ;)
the sleepless nights don't faze joe. everytime she wakes up crying, he's up in an instant. he lets you rest, knowing that you needed it way more than you thought. you were working so hard as a new mom, you needed to just relax. "i've got her babe," he whispers to you. you love watching him cradle her in his arms, rocking her back and forth while softly humming a song. you saw him visibly release the tension in his muscles as he felt her calm down in his arms
joey is hyper aware of every sound she makes. the second she lets out so much as a tiny squeak, he's right by her side, making sure she's okay. he absolutely adores his little girl
joe has set daddy-daughter bonding time in the morning. each morning, he walks around the house with her in his arms, talking to her about football, his training, and all the things he plans to teach her about the sport. he's convinced she's listening, even if she's only staring at him with wide baby eyes and a drool-covered chin
joe is all about family naps. he tells you that all three of you need to snuggle together on the couch during the day and you obviously agree. your home was those two right there. of course, you wanted to snuggle up with them. you'd often wake up and see him with baby burrow resting on his chest, both of them fast asleep as his big hand gently rested on her tiny back
"baby, she's so cute! look at her little squishy face," joe would giggle to you as he played around with her in his lap
joe constantly reminds you of how incredible you are. he's in total awe every time he watches you feed the baby or rock her to sleep. "you're such an amazing mom. i'm so lucky to have both of you. you're my two favorite girls," he would say
joe jokes that he's already making a baby-friendly football playbook
he scribbles down little plays and shows them to her as if this is film study and she's taking notes. "okay, tessa. here's what we're gonna do. first, we tackle nap time. then, we conquer tummy time," he would explain to her with a goofy smile, one that caused her to shriek and squeal
joe has this video camera that he uses to document her progress. he tells you that he's gonna film her little moments just like his dad did for him. seeing joe walk around tessa with a camera in his hand, trying to get every angle, made your heart melt. nothing brought you more joe than hearing a mix of both their soft giggles, shrieks, and laughs. "tessa...over here, pumpkin. daddy's over here!" he would softly say as he tried to get her to look back at him and his camera as she tried to play with her squidward plushie--her favorite thing in the world right now
crawl training was one of your most favorite parts of the day because you could just sit back and watch joe be in full daddy mode for an hour or two
he would playfully get down on his hands and knees, demonstrating how to crawl. he slowly moved one hand forward along with his knee, "look, babygirl. it's just like this! one hand, then the other--easy peasy, right?"
every time she moved the smallest inch, joe's face lit up with pride. "you're so strong, tessa. you've got this!" he cheered on
he'd even motivate her with toys, gently waving it in front of her. "you want mr. squidward? come get him, sweetie," he teases, proud of every shuffle she makes
"c'mon, you're almost there, babygirl. you've got this," he would encourage. "you're almost to mama," he added as he met your soft eyes while you patted your legs so tessa would remain focused
each time she struggled, you watched him quickly scoop her up in his arms for s break. peppering her with kisses and tickles while whispering, "it's okay, we have all the time in the world. me and mama are soo proud of you, pumpkin,". his patience was so special to you. he was so gentle with her, so understanding
but when she managed to push herself even further than before, joe would celebrate like it was a touchdown. "that's my girl!" he'd cheer, clapping his hand softly as he watched her giggle and squeal in your lap while you showered her with kisses
"huh, i guess she'll be crawling all over the place now, isn't she?" joe asked you as he sat down with you after crawl training with his little tiger
"probably. but that's all your doing, baby," you would tease
tessa was such a daddy's girl, and how could she not be? he was so good to her
seeing joe as a dad just made you fall in love with him even more. the way he took on this major new responsibility like a champ made your heart explode. you didn't think you could possibly love him any more than you already did, but tessa's arrival proved you wrong in the best way
joe was the absolute perfect husband and an even better dad. he was naturally good at everything he did, but loving you and his babygirl was the easiest thing for him to excel at
--the end--
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notashadowbutawave ¡ 28 days ago
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finally talked my wife into watching 8x06 "confessions" with me and WOW there's quite a lot going on in this breakup scene in buck's apartment (and the infamous glee scene for that matter) that I haven't seen discussed much on this website (though maybe I'm just not finding it?) like this show is always yelling the themes in your face but...
first of all I think it's somewhat intentional that Buck is being written as kind of regressing. So far in the show, he's gotten his confidence in romantic relationships by fulfilling the role with the person that he thinks he should fulfill. with Abby, Buck had just learned about serious adult romantic relationships and how they work and was trying to Be A Partner in a complete speed run. But he learned that no amount of devotion is a substitute for functionality. with Taylor, he was trying to Be A Functional Partner - and he learned that being a partner Has To involve trust, and that trust comes from somewhere else other than just our actions - it has to come from our hearts.
Tommy is the first person he's ever dated where he doesn't know what the next steps are and that's because this isn't something he has a blueprint for - being a Partner and a Functional Partner for somebody who sees right through him and sees exactly what he's trying to do, to make Tommy never leave. Abby was completely clueless (sorry I really dislike Abby) and Taylor didn't realize that an adult man could behave so badly without utter malice in his heart. Both of them kind of make the mistake of being vulnerable to Buck's charms.
Tommy is of course vulnerable to Buck's charms but Buck is more transparently himself with Tommy as well - and what Tommy sees, then, is a person who is deeply insecure and may be trending in the right direction but ultimately still thinks there's a lever he can pull to make Tommy stay and never leave him. He doesn't know that he's not done cooking yet because every new thing he learns about the world or others makes him feel brand fucking new.
So yes, the glee scene:
Josh was absolutely gagged that Tommy was Abby's ex fiance
Buck's first instinct is to see the situation from Abby's side and go into protective mode which is adorably loyal to be fair but also like ; get a grip
I actually love Josh's framing of "you care about this person and if you want a future in a queer relationship you need to learn that we don't all come to this the same way"
Did they need a cultural reference? No. Were they going to self referentially congratulate Ryan Murphy for inflicting it on the world? Yes.
And regarding the breakup itself:
What is wrong with this fandom's sense of humor that I haven't seen a gif of "I'm the himbo" ??? Like yes babe u sure are come here
Buck is really working so hard in this scene to make sure Tommy knows that he's serious. He's like... this freaked me out but I've decided I'm cool with it. She changed my life but not like you !!!
Like bless his heart, Buck thought he was really doing the right thing by telling Tommy about Abby BEFORE ASKING HIM TO MOVE IN WITH HIM. like MY CARDS ARE ON THE TABLE??? SEE??? LOVE ME FOREVER !! it's adorable and it's also cringe as fuck.
I think the real sin of the writing here is making Buck so completely clueless that this is the wrong move. Like he's kind of an idiot (Eddie Diaz's words not mine) but moving in with someone after dating them for six months in your 30s is WILD behavior and I don't think even Evan Buckley would fail to realize that this is a bit much in this moment.
But idk being in love makes one do stupid things? I did all of my messy bitch relationship shit before I turned 30 but I guess it is buck we are talking about
I completely understand why Tommy reacts the way he does in this scene and bless Lou Ferrigno Jr for acting it with such nuance, much more depth than the scene frankly deserves. What a heartbreaker. Like you see him tense up at Buck's request
"I'm not saying let's get married or engaged, even though we would have the right, thanks to the brave people who came before, including you." such an insane thing to say to your boyfriend. Whoever approved this script was trying to take me out like with a gun.
You then see the absolute grief in Tommy's eyes like oh god this kid is killing me. He's so sweet. He's so cute. He doesn't get it. I love him. He doesn't get it.
As an aside, Eddie being stalked in the juice bar by the hot priest was absolutely incredible.
I didn't hate this episode but wow the writing does suck shit, however I fully believe it makes sense for them to break up here and get back together in the future ??? because Buck DOES have some shit to figure out. Like moving in with someone is a lot of fucking intimacy REALLY fast and baby boy sometimes you NEED to pump the brakes a little ESPECIALLY when you think someone might be THE ONE and you just figured out you like guys six months ago.
I get it and yeah the writing is tragic and the inclusion of Abby in general is just unhinged and unnecessary but like I don't hate the broad strokes here. how else does the blorbo learn if not by ritual torture by the writers. Lou is too good to not have back though. My god what a treasure.
end bucktommy endgame truther transmission
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joequiinn ¡ 8 months ago
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The Dos & Don'ts of Fake Dating | E.M. x reader | pt. 10
[chap nine] | [all chapters here] | [chap eleven]
Summary | You propose a crazy idea to the resident freak of Hawkins, Eddie Munson. But maybe he was even crazier for agreeing to it…
Warnings & Notes | fem reader, slooow burn, faking dating, opposites attract, bratty rich bitch reader, super minor revenge plot, not-quite-enemies-to-lovers
Author's Notes | I can't believe this fic is already at 10 chapters! I know these two idiots are taking their time to get together, but trust that things are getting more and more interesting! I hope everyone enjoys reading this just as much as I love writing it, and as always, the tag list is still open for new readers!
WC | 6.7k
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Chapter Ten
As the fog of sleep began to lift from your head, you couldn’t help but moan smally,  rolling over and trying to resist consciousness. You realized you were beginning to feel particularly warm, which is most likely what prompted your body to awake so easily - you could sleep like a damn log, yet once you got hot enough, it was practically impossible to stay asleep. So, you tried to shove your blankets aside, kicking them away from your legs to avoid breaking out into a sweat. As you did so, you made contact with something solid, hearing a tired grunt just a split second later that caused you to pull a sleepy face of confusion.
That’s when you remembered that this bed didn’t feel like yours, that these pillows didn’t smell like yours, and the night before came back to you.
You were at Eddie’s. You opened your heavy eyes, realizing immediately that you were practically curled into Eddie’s back, which would explain why you felt so hot just a minute ago - evidently, you both ran a little hot in your sleep. With this small distance, you could feel his body heat radiating towards you, feel the tickle of his curls against your forehead, you could see his torso rise and fall with shallow breath. Sleepily, you shuffled away, yawning as you began to slowly look around his room, squinting at the bits of sunlight peeking through the sheets hanging over the windows.
Now that it was light out, this was exactly the kind of room you’d expect a teenage boy to have - the floor was littered with clothes and junk, the walls were covered with posters, and music equipment was in every direction you looked. You tiredly blinked your eyes a few times, attempting to find a clock as a yawn dared to escape your mouth; you finally spotted one after propping yourself up and looking over Eddie’s shoulder at the bedside table.
The two of you had been sleeping through first period; despite all your efforts to not care about shit like that anymore, you nonetheless felt a little jolt of panic because you were missing school again. Force of habit, you figured.
As you rubbed sleep from your eyes, you glanced down at Eddie, whose face was nearly obscured by his messy mane of hair - you found yourself briefly thinking that he’d probably benefit from pulling it back while he sleeps. Not that you were concerned with the cleanliness of his hair and skin - no, you just knew from experience that it would probably be helpful for him to keep hair off his face at night.
You slumped back against the pillow, closing your eyes as you debated whether or not you wanted to wake up or try falling asleep again. You already knew you’d be in deep shit with your parents, considering that you ran off last night without telling anyone where you were going, so what was the harm in resting a while longer? There couldn’t be anything wrong with missing second period, too, right?
Beside you, Eddie stirred a little, causing you to peek at him through your lashes. He settled back in easily enough, but that’s when you finally realized just how odd this whole situation was, how sharing a bed with him felt very nearly inappropriate. Evidently, you had no qualms with it last night, accepting his invitation with absolutely no debate, but it felt different now that you were waking up to a new day. Ideas one had in the late evening never seemed ridiculous or ill-advised until confronting them the following day. Despite yourself, you could feel your neck growing hot, and you rolled onto your side to face away from Eddie as if that would correct the situation. At the very least, it would help you think if you stopped watching him sleep.
Should you leave now that you’re awake? Or should you pretend to be asleep until Eddie also woke up? You couldn’t just linger around impatiently waiting for him, that would look ridiculous.
These are things you didn’t have to worry about before - sleepovers with girls were different, especially when you’d known those girls since you were five years old. And staying the night with Duncan or any other ex-boyfriend had little to no rules. But this? A sleepover with your fake boyfriend who you may or may not be friends with? This sort of thing didn’t have a rulebook for you to follow, so any option may well be the wrong one.
Deciding that you shouldn’t linger around as if you were some needy one night stand, you climbed out of the bed as carefully as possible, unsure just how light a sleeper Eddie was. The floor creaked under your feet despite your light steps, causing you to flinch and shoot a glance at Eddie; but he seemed undisturbed by it.
You stole a glance down at the t-shirt you’d borrowed from Eddie, tugging at the hem as if suddenly you were self-conscious - considering that you had no qualms with showing Eddie skin the night before, it felt nearly ridiculous to start worrying about it now. You rolled your eyes at how stupid you were being as you began to search for your discarded clothes amidst the piles of Eddie’s belongings.
Once you had your clothes in hand, you looked between Eddie and the bedroom door - you realized that his uncle had to still be sleeping, too, which caused you to nearly hiss at your luck. Now you had two people to worry about waking if you weren’t careful. You could sneak your way into the bathroom without waking them, but what if you stepped out of the bedroom and Eddie’s uncle happened to be awake? You didn’t need to be flashing skin to both Munsons.
So, sighing through your nose, you dropped your clothes atop Eddie’s cluttered desk and shook off your concerns - he probably wasn’t going to see anything, and if he did, who cared? You clearly didn’t last night.
Once you’d pulled off Eddie’s t-shirt, you paused as if intending to fold it, but laughed at yourself a second later - if his messy room was any evidence, he wasn’t all that concerned about the state of his clothes. You quickly started to pull your own clothes back on, briefly wishing you’d brought your gym bag inside since your outfit from yesterday was there. That was obviously more attractive than sweaty workout clothes, so you’d have to change into them later, once you were out of here.
As you tugged your shorts over the curve of your ass, you heard Eddie hiss out a small, surprised “shit,” causing you to startle and spin around to face him. Your skin felt hot as you met his tired expression with a surprised look of your own, realizing too late that you had yet to put your shirt on, although he didn’t appear to care or even notice given how heavy his eyes were. Despite suddenly feeling self-conscious, you couldn’t help but laugh at the situation, spinning back around to quickly grab your shirt; your skin still felt hot and your heart a little fast, but laughing made the awkward situation a little easier to bear.
“Fuck, you scared me.” Eddie grumbled in a gravelly voice as you quickly pulled your shirt over your head, turning to face him again. He lied back with his eyes closed, throwing an arm across his forehead as if he needed to compose himself - was his heart drumming as fast as yours? And was it because you actually startled him, or was it because he saw more than he needed to?
You took a deep breath to collect yourself, eyes darting across Eddie’s face and arms while you pushed your embarrassment down. God, you felt stupid being this nervous. So, you coolly rolled back your shoulders and straightened up, knowing that by faking confidence you’d inevitably feel confident in the next couple minutes.
“You tell every girl you sleep with that she scares you?” You teased foolishly, feeling your own nerves spike for a split second. Eddie’s mouth twisted in embarrassment, his cheeks growing red and a flustered sound leaving his lips as he removed his arm from over his eyes.
Now that your heart was slowing back to a reasonable pace, you realized that you must look gross right now - your hair had to be dirty, you could practically taste your morning breath, and you were certain your skin was shiny with oil. You couldn’t help the way your eyes widened in momentary panic, whipping around to face yourself in the mirror above the desk, thankful for the closed curtains in the room, as the darkness surely hid the worst of it. You leaned in close to your reflection, fussing with your hair so it didn’t look quite so awful, baring your teeth to see just how gross they probably were, rubbing your fingers across the bridge of your oily nose. God, being a teenager sucked sometimes.
In the reflection of the mirror, you paused your self assessment and flicked your gaze to watch Eddie for a few moments. He tiredly dragged his hands down his face then through his tangled hair, staring up at the ceiling with heavy eyes, as if he wasn’t fully awake yet. His cheeks were still pink from your little joke, although a very slight grin tugged at his lips, so perhaps he was coming around to it. You realized his chest was bare, although you couldn’t see anything below the neck thanks to the bedsheets; nonetheless, your eyes thoughtlessly trailed from his face to his collarbone to the rise and fall of his chest beneath the blanket.
When Eddie turned to look at you again, you quickly diverted your attention, hoping he didn’t realize you’d been studying him. It’s not as if you were doing anything wrong, but somehow it nonetheless felt like you shouldn’t have been watching him quite so closely, as if you were nearly caught doing something you weren’t supposed to.
“What, worried what I’ll think of your bed head?” Eddie’s tone was teasing yet still tired. You allowed yourself to glance at him in the reflection with slightly narrowed eyes, to which he smirked lazily. A large yawn escaped him, and he attempted to speak through it; you had to fight your smile at how silly he sounded, “You can shower, if you want.”
“I am not showering while your uncle’s here, that’s weird.”
“Why is it weird?” Eddie questioned while closing his eyes again. You shrugged despite knowing he couldn’t see it, trying to think of an explanation.
“It’s just… weird. I don’t know.” 
Eddie leaned back onto his arms, listless eyes looking you up and down for a few moments. Yet again, you felt self-conscious under his stare, so you glared back as if to challenge him. Rolling his eyes at your stubbornness, he flopped back down on the mattress with a heavy sigh.
“Whatever you say, princess.”
You both went quiet for a minute, as if the awkwardness was setting in all over again. You didn’t know each other nearly well enough to be around one another in the morning like this, you both knew that now. It felt far too intimate to be a part of someone else’s morning routine, and a small part of you was regretting the decision to stay here with Eddie last night - you wished you’d considered that before climbing into his bed as if it were your own.
This was a strange scenario for you to maneuver, but you couldn’t let Eddie know how weird it felt, couldn’t let on the nerves that kept jolting with each minute you were here. So, you put on your best game face and swallowed your discomfort, going back to fussing with your hair as if nothing in the world could break through your icy exterior.
“I should get going, Munson.” You said in your best cool, careless tone, “My parents are gonna kill me when I get home.”
Eddie huffed a slight laugh, brought down an octave or two thanks to his scratchy morning voice, “Well, at least we accomplished that, right?”
You gave him a puzzled look in the mirror before turning around to face him, leaning back against the edge of the desk. Eddie took in your expression for a moment before realizing that you were confused by what he said. Again, he yawned.
“Wasn’t that part of the plan - piss off your parents? I’d say we did an even better job killing your reputation than we expected to; I deserve a metal or something.”
“Oh,” you answered in a small voice. Eddie was right - you did already accomplish everything you’d set out to do when you asked him to pretend to be your boyfriend. Your reputation was in the mud, you obviously got under Duncan’s skin, and after last night you knew for a fact that your parents would be downright pissed. What else was there to do?
Despite yourself, you were… disappointed? No, you couldn’t be. Maybe the realization of it all was just jarring, maybe you needed time to comprehend that you were now officially an outcast. Or maybe what you felt was fear at the prospect that moving forward you were no longer the terrifying ice princess. Yeah, that must’ve been it.
You could feel Eddie’s stare as he inevitably tried to decipher the look on your face. You tried to relax the furrow of your brow as you continued to consider what was next for you as a newly appointed social pariah.
“So, I guess we’re… done?” Eddie questioned as if confused by the idea, as if he needed to hear the words leave your mouth, tilting his head while meeting your eyes. He was right, but that seemed strange to wrap your mind around.
“Technically.” You shrugged, looking down at your feet in thought. But after a quick moment, an idea crossed your mind and a faint smile spread across your lips; you looked back up at Eddie as if you were relieved, “Though… it’d be pretty lame to call it quits now - they’d all think we got scared because of the homecoming shit.”
Eddie’s brow went up curiously, surprised by your line of thought; you could see the cogs turning in his own head as he considered it, “You think so?”
“I know these people, Munson.” You crossed your arms and jutted your hip, suddenly finding amusement (and perhaps relief) in the knowledge that this scheme wasn’t over quite yet, “They’re gonna keep poking and prodding at me until they get what they want or they get bored - it’s the same shit I used to do. We can’t give them the satisfaction of thinking they broke us up after what they did; if anything, I think that should make us stronger.”
Eddie finally sat up, the sheets falling away from his chest as he met you with an eager, conspiratory smile; you tried to focus, ignoring the curious desire to study his newly exposed tattoos, “So, keep up the charade, make them hate how much of a happy couple we are?”
You nodded as your smile grew larger, “At least until all this shit blows over. Give them another month or two; they’ll get bored of us and set their sights on the next sorry loser that catches their attention.”
For a long beat, Eddie studied you keenly, his expression relaxing as he considered this new course of action. Again, you felt vaguely self-conscious at how closely he seemed to be looking at you, but you refrained from showing it. Eventually, Eddie shrugged.
“Well, no time like the present.” He swung his legs off the mattress and stretched his arms above his head, twisting his back to work out any kinks. You briefly glanced down at his bare legs, your eyes trailing up; but you quickly brought your attention back to his face, wondering why you were so damn interested in looking at Eddie all of a sudden, “You sure you don’t want to shower?”
You pressed your lips together at the question, “Somehow that feels like an insult.”
He teasingly rolled his eyes with a sleepy grin, “Despite your best efforts, I’m learning you, princess. You’re not the type to go to school without looking put together like a doll.”
Damn, he had you pegged. You sighed in defeat, causing his grin to grow into one of self satisfaction.
“Oh, don’t look so pleased with yourself.”
Eddie sighed, but the amusement on his face was still clear as day, “One of these days I’ll get you to admit I’m right about something, you know.”
You gave him a taunting smile while heading towards the door, yet again challenging him, “Well, today isn’t that day, Munson.”
﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌
By the time you and Eddie had gotten yourselves cleaned up and made it to Hawkins High, third period was nearly over, so instead of wasting your time by heading in, the two of you shared a cigarette in the van, waiting around for the bell to ring. Even then, you took your time walking into the school building and through the halls.
Now that you were amongst your peers again, you couldn’t help but feel a bit tense - after all, prior to today you’d spent the week feeling like shit, feeling the pressure of everyone’s judgment weighing down on you. The icy armor you wore so well was back on as you and Eddie made your way down the hall, feeling far more confident with a cold look on your face and a small glare in your eyes. No one’s criticism could touch you so long as you appeared stony and unapproachable.
In contrast to your frosty demeanor, Eddie fell naturally back into the playful, cheeky boyfriend role he had established for himself - his arm was lax over your shoulder, his smile was charming as ever, and his words were more forward and suggestive. It was funny to observe following the past sixteen or so hours you’d spent together - alone, Eddie always seemed to pull back a little, to give you space as he still wasn’t entirely sure what to make of you. Alone, you ironically became the more forward and brash one. But so long as there may be an audience watching, Eddie was willing to perform, putting up his own mask of total confidence in this false relationship between you two.
Just like a dutiful and caring boyfriend would, Eddie walked you to fourth period, very intentionally pulling you into a hug and shooting a wink at Duncan after catching him watching the two of you. The hug was a total shock, since neither of you had done that before, and you hoped that your shoulders didn’t seem stiff or your arms didn’t seem awkward as they snaked around Eddie’s middle. You felt him laugh against your ear before pulling away, knowing that you were inevitably trying not to act affronted by the new display of affection.
Once fourth period was over, Eddie quickly met you en route to the cafeteria, almost as if he had run just to meet you outside the classroom door; it seemed like maybe he was trying to make up for the past two days of avoiding and ignoring you.
Thanks to Eddie’s effortless presence, you were far less aware of whether or not people were looking at you, whether or not they were whispering about you. Any anxieties you had about your place at the bottom wouldn’t bother you so long as you had him as a distraction from all the bullshit going on around you.
When you two entered the cafeteria, you were certainly aware of the eyes that followed you, of the way your former friends were surely whispering about you. But with your confidence restored, you didn’t even spare them a thought or a glance, guiding Eddie past fellow students with the gentle tug of your hand.
As you two entered the lunch line, you pulled your hand from Eddie’s so you could pick up a tray, which he promptly took from you. You shot him a look, but before you could say anything, he smirked playfully.
“I’ve got it, just stack it up with enough food for both of us.” You rolled your eyes, but acquiesced to the instruction, leading Eddie down the row of unappetizing food, “You’re gonna sit with us today.”
You pulled a bit of a face at him while picking up two bowls of shitty school spaghetti. As you set them on the tray, you hummed as if it were an answer, turning away from Eddie quickly as you continued to eye the limited food options.
Unsatisfied by your lack of response, Eddie continued, his tone perhaps mildly peeved that you made so little effort to engage with his friends, “You know at this point it would look ridiculous if you didn’t.”
You glanced up at him while biting the inside of your cheek, picking up more food for you both, “Something tells me your friends wouldn’t want me around, Munson.”
Eddie sighed, seeing that you were prepared to argue rather than admit he was right. He leaned in over your shoulder as if to make a point, keeping his voice a little low, “Considering that you want to keep up this hoax, all of you are gonna have to learn to tolerate each other.”
You turned your head to meet his eyes, the position reminding you of how closely you’d stood together back at the arcade - foreheads practically touching, Eddie hovering in your space in a way no one ever did. You gave him a mocking pout, catching the small glimmer of amusement in his eyes that he tried desperately to fight, “Oh, so it’s only me that wants to keep up this hoax?”
His brows rose with easy insistence, knowing you had little room to argue. Behind you two, someone coughed impatiently, reminding you to keep moving and not hold up the lunch line. You sighed and continued forward, grabbing a couple boxed milks that you discarded on the tray before leading Eddie out towards the lunch tables.
“Fine.” Your tone is stubborn even as you agree, “I’ll sit with you - if they’ll let me.”
As he came up alongside you, Eddie rolled his eyes while gently nudging you with his shoulder - you were never going to make even the most simple tasks easy. You could already see Eddie’s customary lunch table occupied by Gareth and the freshmen you’d met earlier in the week; you briefly wondered at how they could’ve possibly met, but didn’t entertain the idea further. Coming from the opposite direction was Jeff, who showed mild surprise on his face when he saw you and Eddie together again; you caught yourself wondering what the group thought of the past few days, wondering what Eddie did or didn’t say to them about it.
But before you could reach the lunch table, however, you caught Amelia in your line of sight, her long strides purposeful as she came in your direction. You did nothing to mask the way your eyes rolled into the back of your head, immediately annoyed at the prospect of talking to her; god, you didn’t want to deal with whatever shit she was about to lay at your feet. The smug little look on her face was one you knew quite well, the kind of expression she wore when she was about to be antagonistic just for the hell of it, so you mentally prepared for whatever bullshit was coming for you.
As she blocked your path to the lunch table, Amelia crossed her arms with a self-satisfied expression on her face; you tried to appear as disinterested in her as possible, staring past her shoulder at the nerds watching you before sharing a glance with Eddie. A mean smirk spread across Amelia’s lips as she looked you up and down with blatant criticism. Even without looking, you were certain that the rest of her friends were watching, waiting for whatever silly insults Amelia had planned for you. You could also feel the eyes of Eddie’s friends watching, too, along with anyone else who cared enough about trivial high school drama.
“Hm, yesterday’s outfit? That’s interesting.” Amelia started, looking between you and Eddie with a suggestive purse of her lips.
You responded with a bitchy smile of your own, “Paying enough attention to me to know what I’m wearing? That’s interesting.”
You don’t even give yourself time to enjoy Amelia’s galled look, grabbing Eddie’s sleeve and attempting to breeze past her as if she wasn’t even there. But you knew Amelia well and could feel her following just a step behind you, so once you’d reached your table you spun back around to face her. She stumbled back just a step as you caught her off guard, so you started talking before she could have the chance.
“Why are you so concerned with me? You can’t possibly still be jealous - after all, you got my sloppy seconds, doesn’t that make you the top of the food chain now?” You crossed your arms with a lax expression, knowing your casualness would get to her; Amelia always hated when you’d put on this emotionless front in the middle of a fight between you two. As she scowled, you simply raised your brow expectantly, which seemed to irritate her even more.
“Jealous of what, your trashy new boyfriend? Give me a break.”
You took a small step towards Amelia that wouldn’t normally have appeared threatening, calm as ever while you gave her a taunting grin. You briefly looked past her at your former lunch table, everyone there watching attentively. As you caught Duncan’s smug face, your eyes darkened a little, your need for retaliation these past few days coming back up. But you didn’t want to make yourself look like a fool again, so you took a composed breath while considering your plan of attack. Your gaze was calculated as you let your eyes travel over the nearby lunch tables, seeing the audience that had formed for the show that you and Amelia were putting on. Maybe you’d give them just a little something to talk about.
You bit your lip before grinning, giving Amelia a faux sorry expression as you spoke, “Well, considering that you settled for a pathetic two-pump chump and I’m getting such mind blowing dick that I’m missing school for it… I’d say you probably have a lot to be jealous of.”
The sound of surprise that left the people around you was like music to your ears; Eddie choking in shock behind you was so amusing that in other circumstances you would have laughed. But you were far more focused on Amelia than anyone else, taking glee in her affronted look and the disgusted scoff that left her throat. You gave her another condescending smile before turning back around, meeting Eddie’s surprised eyes as you settled into the seat at the head of the table. He was momentarily fixed where he stood, so you gave his arm a small, insistent tug; pulling himself together quickly, Eddie set down the tray and dragged a chair up alongside you.
You could feel the burn of Amelia’s eyes as she stared you down, undoubtedly trying to come up with some scathing remark. But you happily ignored her, playfully meeting Eddie’s eyes as he put on his own show of disinterest in your former friend. That’s one thing you could appreciate about Eddie - you were both good at quickly putting up your fronts and pretending. The rest of the table, however, seemed frozen with fear - you’d have to tell these boys to grow a pair.
“You’re disgusting.” Amelia spat with a shake of her head. Her tone was sickly sweet, “I can’t imagine that’ll get you many votes for homecoming queen.”
Despite your annoyance, you met her eyes again with a condescendingly kind look of your own, “We have better things to do than go to homecoming. So, when I win, the crown is yours - my gift to you.”
She rolled her eyes and flicked her hair over one shoulder with a snobby expression, “As if.”
“Well, remember to think about me while you’re slow dancing to Kenny fucking Loggins.” You mocked her with your best dazzling smile, pulling your attention away from her as if she’d been dismissed from your court.
As Eddie and the rest of the boys looked between you two, awaiting the next blow, you grabbed a milk carton from your tray, completely ignoring Amelia’s presence now. You were certain she made some frustrated face at you, but you wouldn’t dare give her the satisfaction of meeting her eyes again. You were done with this confrontation, and you just knew she loathed that you got the final word. With a huff, she eventually marched away, prompting you to look around the table with a self-satisfied smirk.
Jeff and Grant had both stood back during your confrontation with Amelia, waiting for it to end before they dared approach the table. As the lunch room returned to normal order, the boys awkwardly joined the rest of you. For a few long moments, none of them dared to speak as you opened your milk carton and took a long sip - was it fear or discomfort that held their tongues?
“You gotta warn a guy before you say shit like that.” Eddie broke the silence with a slightly droll tone, drawing your attention as your brow furrowed. Despite his cheeks being a little flushed, he otherwise looked like the cool leader his friends had come to expect.
“Say what?” You asked while setting one of the plates of spaghetti in front of you. Your gaze briefly traveled around the table - all of the nerds had varying degrees of amusement and trepidation on their faces as they looked back, none of them quite sure what to make of you yet. A short laugh escaped Eddie as he leaned back in his chair.
“I believe your exact words were ‘mind blowing dick.’” Although he wore a cocky smile for his friends, Eddie’s eyes suggested that the statement had flustered him a little. Around you, you boys snorted and held back laughs, which drew Eddie’s attention; he suppressed his own humored expression, “Oh, so now you guys think she’s funny?”
The freshmen looked a little unsure, clearly still unfamiliar with Eddie’s nuances; meanwhile, the older boys had come to know his antics well enough. Jeff quickly countered, although he couldn’t seem to look at you as he spoke, “Personally, I’d be flattered by the compliment.”
Grant nudged him as they laughed together. You couldn’t help your own grin as you looked back towards Eddie - maybe winning his friends over wouldn’t be as hard as you thought. And maybe they also wouldn’t be as insufferable as you’d predicted.
“See? It was a compliment.” Your ears felt a little hot as you recalled the conviction in your voice as you addressed Amelia - talking about Eddie that way felt wrong now that you considered it, but in the moment your one focus was getting under the other girl’s skin.
Eddie fondly shook his head at you, speaking with a confidence intended to mask his embarrassment from his friends, maintaining his usual unphased attitude, “Well, half the school heard you’re getting mind blowing dick, so I hope you’re happy.”
The boys snickered again as you coyly looked down at the table - the more Eddie kept talking about it, the more your own embarrassment set in. Maybe he was doing it on purpose.
“So, what are we doing on homecoming?” The freshman wearing a hat asked, causing the whole table to look at him questioningly. He elaborated as if the question was obvious, “She said we have better things to do - what are we doing?”
As you rolled your eyes, one of the other boys nudged him in the side, “We’re not doing anything, stupid, she was just saying that.”
“Jesus, keep your bony elbows away from me, Lucas.” The kid rubbed his ribs as if for emphasis. On his other side, the Wheeler boy made a face at his friends’ shenanigans, “Why would she just say that? We could do something, right?”
“Let it go, Dustin.” Wheeler said as if already exhausted by him.
You watched the freshmen as they began to bicker amongst themselves, your expression one of confused intrigue. They were like a bad car crash - you simply couldn’t look away. They talked over each other, their voices melding together while debating the validity of Dustin’s questions, the scene nearly to the point of being comical. As you continued to gape, you looked around the table at the older boys, who were already locked in a separate conversation, before your gaze settled on Eddie. You raised your brows as he met your eyes.
“So, what, are they the fucking three stooges?” Eddie snorted gleefully at the question.
“You get used to it.” He responded while poking at his food. You returned your attention to the boys as they continued; Eddie just let them go on like this? Although somehow amusing, it had also become exasperating.
So, with an irritated sigh, you planted your hands on the table as you spoke over them firmly, “Will you three shut up? Fucking freshmen…”
The last bit was muttered, but the table still heard it nonetheless. Everyone looked at you in various states of surprise. The one freshman - Dustin - however, looked the least taken aback by you, as if unaware of just how maddening his high energy was.
“Are we doing something for homecoming or not?” He questioned while meeting your eyes seriously; you raised your brow at his insistent need for an answer.
“You can do whatever you want, I don’t care.” You responded perfunctory before focusing on your food again, thinking that would be the end of it.
“I mean, we could do something.” Eddie chimed in, so you shot him a warning look as if to tell him not to get the freshmen’s hopes up. He willfully ignored it while continuing, “I know a guy who has kickbacks practically every weekend - might be fun to crash.”
You looked between Eddie’s eyes with a furrowed brow, to which he gave you an expectant look back. Who would Eddie know that wasn’t at this table right now, you wondered. Couldn’t be a high school kid, obviously, and given Eddie’s extracurriculars, there were only a handful of ways he could know someone else.
As if he was aware of your own curiosity, Gareth chimed in, “Who - Rick?”
“Who else?” Eddie gave his friend a cheeky grin.
“Man, Rick’s kinda weird even for us.” Gareth shook his head a little, although you could see he was nonetheless considering the idea; you figured none of these guys went to parties often, if ever, so even a shitty prospect was better than nothing.
“He’s not that bad.” Grant added eagerly, his grin suggestive as he added, “Maybe we’ll meet some college girls.”
You couldn’t help but sneer as the boys began talking amongst themselves at the possibility of a party with this Rick guy. You looked back at Eddie, who watched the group fondly before turning his attention to you, a pleased expression on his face as his grin spread a little wider.
“I’m not chaperoning a bunch of fourteen year olds at some stranger’s party.” You pointed towards the freshmen who began to protest spiritedly, so you leveled them with a harsh look, “You’re all still babies, you have no business going to parties yet.”
“Oh, come on,” Dustin, fearless as ever, tried to argue, “Didn’t you go to parties your freshman year?”
“Yeah, high school parties. Try finding one of those first.” You and Eddie met eyes, “This Rick guy isn’t some freak, is he?”
“Princess, everyone at this table’s a freak.”
You rolled your eyes, “You know what I mean. If we go to this guy’s party, will I regret it?”
Eddie shook his head almost too quickly for your liking, but his voice sounded sincere, “You’ll be fine. If you get worried, just stick with me.”
You studied Eddie’s warm eyes in search of a lie, and he stared back earnestly as if to prove his point. So, you mulled over the idea for a short while, trying to consider its pros and cons - you hadn’t been to a party in a couple months, and even now with your disinterest in high school shit, you still loved a good party. On the other hand, even Gareth thinks Rick is a little weird - that could possibly spell trouble. But, Eddie seemed relatively mindful about this sort of thing, so if he said you’d be fine, you were inclined to believe him.
So, you accepted the idea, giving Eddie a quick nod as the corner of your mouth pulled up, “I do love parties.”
The table celebrated your agreement, as if all of this was riding on you. Again, they could do whatever they wanted without you around, you didn’t care - but maybe they were seeking your approval because they knew Eddie wanted it, too. You quickly turned your gaze back on the freshmen, who were a little too eager.
“No, you are not invited.” They moaned and groaned about it, and briefly you felt like some kind of babysitter, “I’m looking out for you guys, you’ll thank me later.”
Dustin muttered a “yeah right” as Lucas and Wheeler scoffed in disappointment. It was nearly comical, but you refrained from smiling at them - it may have sounded silly, but in your way you were looking out for them, knowing that they were still just inexperienced kids. They couldn’t just jump into a party like this, they needed to at least attend a high school dance or get invited to a pool party first.
When you looked back at Eddie, he had something of a sweet smile on his face, which caused a mild skip in your heart - you almost didn’t like the look, it felt far too personal. Maybe he knew, too, that you were just looking out for the younger boys despite your cold exterior, maybe he wondered what things you’d seen or experienced at parties to make you so mindful of bringing a bunch of kids along with you. To distract yourself, you tore your gaze from him and looked at Gareth, who seemed a little nervous once he realized you were staring at him.
“Tell me honestly, how weird is this guy?” Gareth glanced between you and Eddie, unsure how to answer. You insistently pointed at him with your plastic fork, a sad piece of spaghetti falling from it back into the bowl, “Come on, don’t make me regret agreeing to this idea.”
Eddie started, “He’s fine--”
Gareth shrugged, “Dude’s just… used too much of his own supply.”
Ah, so he was a drug dealer. Considering that that’s how Eddie made his money, you couldn’t be too critical of that, it would make you a damn hypocrite. But that didn’t ease your hesitation any, since you knew nothing else about Rick, so you made a face at Gareth that insisted he continued.
“I don’t know, he’s not all there half the time. But I don’t think he means any harm.” Gareth, again, met Eddie’s eyes as if seeking approval.
“See? Nothing to worry about.” Eddie said in an easy tone, nudging your toe with his while grinning at you. You narrowed your eyes a little, but accepted the information Gareth gave you, wanting to believe him. Eddie slouched in his seat beside you, resting his arm over the back of your chair, “It’ll be fun, princess, I promise.”
You sighed a little, nudging Eddie’s foot back as you continued poking at your food, “And way better than a stupid homecoming dance, right?”
Eddie smiled back with a nod, “Way better.”
You hummed in response, unconsciously relaxing back against Eddie’s arm, looking towards the freshmen again as they tried to argue their case with the rest of the table.
.
.
addt. Author's Note | idk if anyone else noticed, but one of Eddie's friends isn't actually credited with a name, so I've been using the actor's name to supplement :)
@3rd-conchord @a-queen-blr @avalon-wolf @cosmicdanielle @costellation-hunter
@daisy-munson @daisyridleyss @damon-loves-pie @damp4eddie @delilaaahhh
@eddiernunson @em0220 @frogtape @fromasgardandback @fckyeahlames
@graciehams @kthomps914 @lotrefcp @love-anonymous-writer @marrowfrog00
@maskofmirrors @mewchiili @miaajaade @mmmunson @moonisu
@munsonssweets @no-bueno-writer @nxrdamp @rach5ive @rcailleachcola
@sav12321 @sheneedsrocknroll92 @sokkasimp101 @steeldaisies @stormgrl19
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preeningpisces ¡ 11 months ago
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Choso NSFW Headcanons
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Lemme know if you want me to elaborate/write something about any of these ♥️
18+ content below, mdni, implied chubby f!reader
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❥ Choso is extremely submissive in the way that he will do whatever you want in bed. If you want to be dominated, through your guidance and some trial & error, he’ll do it for you happily. If you want to tie him up & make him cry, he’ll gladly cry the prettiest tears for you
❥ You have to remind him he needs to discover his own wants & desires, rather than going along with whatever you want
❥ Can be very dirty because he doesn’t really have a sense of shame when it comes to sex. For instance, he sees licking your neck no differently than licking your foot, and is confused when you react negatively. He wasn’t exactly raised with any societal/cultural influences on his sexuality
❥ He does some odd shit like bite your armpit and when you chastise him he turns into the sad hamster meme
❥ We all know he busts in like 3 seconds, does it need to be said? He can’t help it—his dick is brand new, fresh off the shelf
❥ Bro cannot get enough when you first start having sex together; he can be pushy at times LOL but will relent & be respectful if you ask him to
❥ Very INTENSE. He prefers positions where he can make eye contact, and this mfer will stare into your soul the whole time. Also likes positions where he can get your tits in his mouth
❥ Doesn’t tend to be playful in bed, but will try to match your energy if you are
❥ Period sex makes him go craaaaazy. He’s all up in there in every way. He earns his red wings immediately
❥ I know in my soul that he’s hairy. He’s a hairy guy! No way he isn’t. Exfoliate your face with his hairy titties
❥ Lowkey into body hair himself, and doesn’t get why people are so obsessed with shaving. Likes feeling your legs when they get prickly, or if the hair is grown out. Absolutely LOVES an 80s bush
❥ On that note, anything that is naturally so human gets him going, like sweat. Kind of into musk too. He’s the type that likes it when you’ve marinated a bit LMFAO kind of pouts if you insist on showering before he goes down on you. So cute
❥ His cum doesn’t shoot, it leaks, and there’s a fuck ton of it. Stroking him through his orgasm is really fucking messy, and really fucking hot
❥ Oh my god he is awful at dirty talk at the beginning, bitch has NO CLUE what to say
❥ He learns tho, don’t you fret. Like I said, he doesn’t really get embarrassed when it comes to sex, but he also has no concept of what’s considered sexy and what’s not. You just have to survive the awkward stage (and maybe share some source material for him to reference)
❥ Fucking loves titties. Even when you aren’t having sex, just cuddling, that’s where he likes to rest his hands the most. If you have heavy tits he’ll offer to support them for you. It’s a genuine act of kindness, but also one he benefits from greatly. Rests his head on your chest when he needs to unwind
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irishmammonagenda ¡ 10 months ago
Note
Hello! I hope your requests are open 🧚‍♀️
Can i ask, what brothers' reaction would be on MC who sings something like MSI (you know smth like "son of a bitch! God's like me!") or just alternative rock/punk in general?
Answer only if you're okay with that❤️
Have a great day🏃‍♂️
hihi‼️(i love the amount of emojis u use i can feel ur personality through the screen teehee)
i absoluetley can‼️‼️ also tysm for the new music to listen to (im kind of new to alt rock and punk i only really used to listen to MCR lmao😭)
anyway this was fun to write
grma for the ask <3
Obey Me Brothers React to MC Being a Wee Emo.
DISCLAIMER: emo is used as a word because where im from emo is used to describe nearly any type of alternative fashion bc we're all dumb over here app, also im 2% sure pop punk/poprock is emo music bc i think thats what mcr is, so we're going w/ it ig, the only thing ik abt music is that bars 13-20 in the dambusters themetune has fanfare so if i get any terms wrong lmk 😔✊
WARNINGS: There's a slight slight hint of drinks being spiked in Beel's one. nothing ever happens its just him keeping an eye on your drink at a concert just in case.
LUCIFER
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He hears music blasting in the music room in the House of Lamentation.
At first he just sighs, it sounds like the type of music Belphie would listen to when trying to plan out another Anti-Lucifer League. The teenage angst probably helped fuel the seventh born’s desire and motivation to prank him.
He sneaks into the Music room. Technically he just walked in quietly, but you still jumped when you saw him.
"L-Lucifer!! Hiya!!" You say awkwardly, not looking the first born in they eyes. "What's up?" He blinks slowly at you, fighting the urge to place a gloved hand on the bridge of his nose and pinch it in disappointment (and/or second hand embarrassment) "I'm not going to say anything. Just keep it down, MC." He sighs, normally he'd have lectured you. But it reminded him too much of a wolf-cut, guyliner filled past that for the sake of his pride, he did not want to remember.
He wasn't a stranger to musical genres, the man collects records for fuck's sake.
The drums and guitars he can normally get behind. Especially with catchy rhythms.
The lyrics?....they're normally a hit or miss. It really depends on the song.
'God likes me' (MSI) 'Hail Mary, Forgive Me' (PTV) Religious references just kind of ruin some songs for him.
Lucifer spends his time collecting cursed records, but your music taste is a special kind of cursed MC.
Although, he is strangely supportive in his own way.
"MC, Lord Diavolo has gifted me some tickets to concert [small devildom band] is putting on, I thought you would enjoy it."
(Lucifer bought the tickets himself.)
MAMMON
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Haha, Emo!
"Yer a wee emo so ye are, MC"
It's not exactly his style of music (the man listens to Kneecap ffs)
BUT!!! He wants to share things with you dammit! Let him listen to your stupid emo music with you!!! He's your first man!!!
He does, however learn how to play guitar so he can play some simple chords while you sing horrible improvised lyrics with horrible improvised chords.
You don't have the heart to tell him that acoustic guitars aren't normally used in Punk/Rock music.
The sound of horribly improvised chord progressions ring out in your bedroom as you and your first man stand back to back, horrible matching messy eyeliner on both of yours and Mammon's eyes as you hold a hairbrush to your mouth and improvise lyrics. That is, if you can even get them out of your mouth before laughing. "Blood in my body! Because I'm aliveeee!!!" You sing off key while Mammon strums the guitar. "Love in my Bugatti! Because The Great Mammon can drive!" You laugh. Mammon whistles while missing out on the fingering of a chord and then pretending it didn't happen.
LEVIATHAN
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The first thought in this man's mind is karaoke.
He sends you a playlist of Rocky kinda anime openings that you should totally listen to.
He's the least shocked and weirded out, (not that the others are weirded out)
He really likes your singing voice. It doesn't matter if you're a horrible singer, its you so it makes him happy.
You guys could do a duet? If it wasn't too much for you to sing with a stinky smelly otaku like him :(
"Levi-" You sigh, looking at the Levi shaped lump of seaweed in his aquiriam, the demon's tail twitches through the pile of aquatic plant, showing that he's listening. "Levi... Of course I'd love to do Karaoke with you...You didn't give me a chance to answer before jumping into the tank! C'mon!" It takes Levi a few more minutes before he feels ready to leave his seaweed pile, his face is completely red, but there's a small smile on his face as you set up the karaoke machine.
SATAN
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Satan enjoys your music taste.
He likes most if not all human world music because music is so important to culture and he loves learning about human world culture.
What he doesn't like however, is people dropping his name in lyrics for edginess smh.
No MC, no one in Je T'aime is his bitch. Please stop asking.
He also takes you to gigs! Because why not!
The blond haired demon sat in the bar, earning a few looks from the people surrounding them. He stuck out like a sore thumb in his jumper and jeans and the book in his hands in comparision to black denim and leather, chains and sub-cultural clothes that everyone else was wearing. Satan payed it no mind as you came back with the drinks, all decked out in clothing matching the rest of the people in the venue in style. "Hope you weren't waiting long....the lines were long!" Satan takes a drink from your hand and sips it, giving a soft smile, "Not at all."
ASMODEUS
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The music is a hit and miss tbh, he prefers the more pop punk kind of thing, leaning more into pop than anything else.
He likes paramore though!
Loves the clothes associated with the genres and subcultures of the music! Adopts some of it into his own style!
(He alters it heavily, but some designs are inspired by the subcultures)
He could be your adorable gorgeous boyfriend and you could be the wee emo gremlin partner!
The opposites attract will look so cute on his Devilgram.
But he geniunely supports you and your interests, he designs and makes clothes for you in the style associated with your music taste.
He even makes you merch of your favourite bands and albums inspired into clothes.
He also does your makeup before you go out to concerts or gigs
Your his emo after all.
You squirm as Asmo runs his fingers along your flushed skin, he laughs as you jerk away. "It's just a brush, it wont hurt you darling!" He laughs, putting more black eyeshadow onto the makeup brush and applying it---or atleast trying to---to your eyelids, biting back teasing comments as you jerk away. You were ticklish god dammit! It wasn't like you were meaning to! It was a natural reflex!
BEELZEBUB
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He likes it.
but not because he enjoys the music persay. Don't get him wrong he can listen to it and enjoy it but he wouldn't normally seek it out.
He likes it because you and Belphie like it, and the style reminds him of the both of you.
In terms of rock music he likes the more slow ballady types. Belphie normally listens to them when he has trouble falling asleep.
Very supportive.
If you're ever in the Mosh Pit in a concert, Beel will go with you, you're just so tiny and people can push you about! (You're tiny to him. So yes MC, his point still stands.)
Taking that back, if you're at a concert, Beel's probably with you. Unless you're with another brother, Even then, Beel's probably going to come.
Bro is like your own bodyguard.
Reports to Lucifer when at concerts and makes sure you're not taking any illegal substances, you don't know what's in them MC!
He makes sure nothing is put in your drink either.
He just wants to keep you safe :(
Beel had been staring at the cup in your hands back and forth for a while now, you smile and offer it up to him. "Want a sip, Beelie? You've been staring at my drink a lot" You practically shout over the music. You weren't in the mosh pit, and though you stood a good distance away, the music was still loud. Beel shakes his head, pointing to his pint and smiling his closed eye smile, "No thanks, MC. I'm just making sure you're staying hydrated and don't need refills." He says truthfully, though that truth isn't whole. You grin, "Aww...that's so sweet!" Turning your attention away from him and back to the stage, Beel wraps an arm around your waist. Eyes alert and wary when someone so much as walked past, or a crowd member got a little too close while dancing. He was overprotective and cautious. But you deserved to be safe.
BELPHEGOR
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Give him back his albums what the actual fuck.
Look just because he takes your life it doesn't mean you get to take his music taste.
Wowwww. Petty.
Fine, you can borrow his limited edition special cut vinyls.
What? Lucifer's not the only one with a record collection.
He did not get this idea from Lucifer, No you Liar.
He did.
Belphie listens to rock ballads to get to sleep when he has trouble sleeping and when he wants to.
Sometimes when you nap together he puts some on.
It's kind of like a white noise machine.
Will go to concerts with you and Beel, but has to have slept for atleast 2 whole days leading up to it so people don't think he's passed out in the crowd.
Mention any similarites about his little music vinyl collections to Lucifer's cursed record selections he will not let you borrow any for atleast 3 days.
Long before Eve bit the apple and the brother's wings turnt black, a small boy with indigo hair wakes up from a nap, pouty lips wobbling when he realises his twin is nowhere to be found. Belphie sniffles, but doesn't break into tears. He's a big boy now! Big boys don't cry when they miss their twins! Beel was probably out on a walk with Michael and Lilith in her stroller! He'd come back! But still, Belphie's bottom lip trembled, eyes watering, the little boy didn't like being seperated from his twin! He was about to cry when he heard loud music coming from a room down the hall. More curious than anything, Belphie gets off of his bed, and (taking his teddy bear with him) walks down the hall following the sound. Though his walk was more of a waddle with his tiny legs. He'd never heard anything like it before! When Beel got back he could tell him about his discovery! Soon enough he reaches a slightly cracked open door and the music is super loud here. This must be it! Waddling into the room, Belphie could see a figure laying spread eagle on one of the beds. Half of the room decorated in colour with one bed and the half of the room with the person laying on the bed was almost completely in black with a bunch of posters on the walls. Most importantly, on the floor lay a box with a spinny thing spinning that seemed to be playing the sounds! Belphie held his teddy in one hand and lifted up the thing that was running across the big black circle. Immediately the sound stopped and the figure sat up, with layered dark shoulder length hair, layered dark black white and red clothes, and enough eyeliner to paint the colourful bright half of the room pitch black. A teen Lucifer looks down at Belphie with a sour expression, upset his mope session had been interrupted. "What are you doing here?" He asks the small indigo-haired angel. Belphie looks up at him with wide, sparkling eyes before pointing to the record player. "Why's it makin' sound? There's no choir in there...." Lucifer's eyes soften. His mope session about meeting the demon prince, not hating him, and finding him pretty like the human he met down in the human world could wait. "It's a record player, Belphs." The teenager's too emo, the end is nigh, everything sucks, too cool for love and affection persona drops and reveals his softie interior. Lucifer picks up his younger brother and places him on his bed as he takes out the record that was playing in the record player and putting on one that would be much less intimidating for someone as young as Belphie. He sits back onto the bed and the small boy cuddles up to his big brother, ever the affectionate child. As the record plays on Belphie grins up at Lucifer, revealling one missing front tooth. He had lost them early, shortly after Beel's tooth had fallen out. Lucifer grinned too, suppressing a chuckle at how Beel hadn't even realised his tooth was wobbly until he bit into his breakfast and found his tooth lodged into the food. "Luci! I likes this music!" "Do you?" "Mhm!" Lucifer grins, petting his youngest brother's head. "I'll tell you what. For your birthday I'll get you your very own record player and lend you some vinyls, we can even go to the human world and pick some new ones out. I'll show you how to play them when you have them, okay?" "Okay! Thank you Luci!" After a while, the songs change from high energy into ballads, Belphie's eyes grow heavier, as do his big brother's. Belphie curled up into the elder's side, abandoning his teddy bear for grabbing at the fabric of Lucifer's shirt with tiny grubby hands as he nodded off. Lucifer made sure to try not to move, in result of the slow rock ballad music and staying completely still so not to jostle and wake up his youngest brother who would 100% get cranky if woken. Slowly, Lucifer's eyes start to close, and he falls into a soft slumber as well.
And hey, if Michael returned from his walk, and after leaving Beel and Lilith into a play room went to check in on Lucifer and saw that sight; and then proceeded to grin and take multiple photos of said sight from multiple angles to use as blackmail on his little emo twin brother Lucikins on a later occassion, then that was Michael’s business and Michael’s business alone. And Lucifer's business when Michael didn't want to do the dishes when it was his night to do them, of course.
But if you ask, Belphie'll tell you that visiting the human world is what got him interested in that type of music.
Because he's a stinky smelly little liar and should be locked up in an attic.
On a side note he bullies you for being 'emo' :(
Bro is such a hypocrite.
But to be geniune, Belphie loves that he can share his music with you. He's happy you can bond over this with him.
Not that he'd ever outright tell you.
But you can tell in the way he gives you albums and vinyls as gifts, and makes you little playlists of ballads to sleep to. (He's gotten you into the habit smh.)
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sciderman ¡ 1 year ago
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I really don't like how we're just glossing over the fact that Gwen cheated on Peter let alone MJ hiding this from him.
who's glossing? i'm writing a whole fic about it.
2. they were on a BREAK
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3. you're forgetting that peter and gwen are dramatic irony the couple™ and at exactly the precise same time gwen had her tongue down mary jane's throat peter had his tongue down harry's. the exact same night.
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the joke is that peter has been burying all this guilt for years thinking that he'd failed gwen and was terrible and dishonest and she was an angel who was too good for him until he finds out. gwen was always just as much of a messy bitch as he was. but he was too busy spiralling in his own messes to realise that gwen was just as messy as he was.
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4. mj didn't tell him, sure. but that's because she assumed gwen told him. i don't think mj's the sort of girl to say "hey by the way i fucked your girlfriend shitlips" even if that would be hilarious. she didn't think it was a secret though and definitely thought gwen told peter.
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and yeah. i'd hesitate to call it cheating - they were definitely on a break. they might not have laid down a law, and definitely both feel ridiculously guilty about it, but they. were. on a break.
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i think it was just a necessary thing, for both of them.
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i think for me, i'm not about the moral black-and-white of relationships - it always got me down when people point at the piĂąa colada song saying it's terrible. it's about cheating. that's objectively bad and evil so says it in the bible thou shall not commit adultery yadda yadda yadda. no, no, shut up. that's not what the song is about. the song is about rediscovering there's stuff you've overlooked about your partner. that you can think you love someone, but not actually know them. and you can learn more about them, and realise they're not what you thought, and you can fall in love with them all over again. for me, that's like, the most romantic thing ever, actually. and those who look at it through the "this song is about cheating" lens completely sleep on how genuinely, sincerely cute and romantic it is. that it's a song not about cheating, but discovering stuff you didn't know about your partner, and falling in love with them all over again. finding out that actually, you're both the kind of person who's crazy and lustful for life enough to run away with a romantic stranger on a wild escape, but you were both too afraid to admit that to each other. i love that song. it's so much more sincere and human than any stupid love song. nay sayers get away from me.
i think peter and gwen are a lot like that piĂąa colada song. neither of them are a villain. both of them make mistakes and both of them were messy and both of them had stuff to figure out before they could make it work together.
i... sighs... i'd like people to kind of stop expecting these guys to be right all the time. they're disasters. i wouldn't be interested to write them in any other way. and i promise you wouldn't be interested to read it, either. i'm here for the messy bitches who have stuff to figure out. shout out to the messy bitches who have stuff to figure out.
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jasontoddiefor ¡ 3 months ago
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Heyyyyy roses & champagne anon here! First your answer made me feral with all the juicy brain gremlins it spawned and then you wrote that little fic and I now I’m even more insane but like all I can picture is Leewon going “fuck this shit I’m out” at like age 11, running away, accidentally running into Caesar who’s already starting to get the feelings of “hippity hoppity I want you to be my property” weird little friendship starting to form.
And then years later Leewon in full on teenage rebellion bad decision making is like “what if I lost my virginity to this dude I sometimes hang out with that my dad can not stand? Wouldn’t that be fun?” and uh accidentally turns Caesar’s budding obsession with him over the years into full blown levels of “I am planning our wedding, it’s going to be in the summer because you get cold and then you will never ever leave me.” as Leewon is like damn the dirty talk in this fwb relationship hits hard
And then Leewon finally achieves his dream of fucking off back to Korea for college and does that without hesitation and then stays even longer for law school because he likes pretending he’s normal, he likes pretending his life is normal, (he’s a lawyer and his ass is lying, he could never truly be content with normalcy) and he only goes back because he wants to say a proper goodbye, after he graduates from law school
And uh proceeds to cheerfully greet the man whose heart he unintentionally shattered and now haunted like a ghost for seven years like nothing ever happened. Oops?
Also in regards for Vladimir I feel they got a weird resentment codependency going on there but also I can’t help but feel in a world that they grew up together they’d kind of be bickering gossiping friends at their core so it’s like “I hate the roles we have been forced into because one another, sometimes I think I even hate you, but you’re are still a core of my world and I don’t know how to exist without you because of this, anyway you will not believe with this one lady did at a party-“ kind of vibe going on. He’s pissed and hurt and resentful when Leewon goes back to Korea and he spends years soothing his and everyone else’s hurt and Leewon comes back and he’s angry for like 5 minutes before breaking and filling him on the latest gossip. Because I think they deserve to have a messy, complicated relationship that’s also overrun by the need to be a bitch and discuss drama because there is literally no other option in the mafia compound.
If you’ve got any more thoughts on this au I would love to hear them so badly!!
Anon you’re back!!!
Aaah thank you so much for your long ask, this absolutely made my evening (literally, I’m stuck in bed bc my back is killing me and am using my bluetooth keyboard to write this reply lying down hahaha)
Let’s start on the family side: time to reveal the fact that this AU also exists to like at least 30% because I wanted younger sibling Vladimir takes. That man already behaves like a spoiled younger brother in canon, he’d be terrible here. I do think their dynamic would be exactly as you said. Vladimir gets adopted to be Leewon’s companion, his right hand, raised to be loyal and trustworthy - his one and only friend after nearly a year of living in Russia. It fucks up their dynamic because they’re raised with clear expectations but at the same tie, the only way Leewon treats him is as a younger brother? Because that is the notion that makes the most sense to him at that age. When he realizes what Vladimir’s purpose is, he very much resents it? They have a bit of a falling out because to Vladimir, his older brother suddenly started distancing himself with no explanation as to why. And like, when he realizes the reason, he doesn’t really think it’s bad because he owns the Lomonosov his life anyway? Of course he’d die for his older brother. He loves him and that’s his job.
Anyway. Vladimir thinks Dimitri ain’t shit. He would never treat his boss like that and scheme. He’s built different (loyal like a most beloved dog). Leewon staying in Korea for his studies kind of helps Vladimir gain some perspective and insight into everything because nothing makes you reflect more than your codependent better half not being within reaching distance. But at the end of the day, he still doesn’t entirely mind. He stops pushing the boundary when Leewon enforces it (opposed to his behavior as a kid) but that’s about it. They are two very gossipy siblings.
To Leewon’s life!!! Anon I am !!! At how your ideas match mine. For the simpler things - Leewon absolutely puts his foot down about studying in Korea. It’s probably the biggest fight he and Mikhail ever have. I’m thinking maybe to the point it’s the first and only time Mikhail genuinely hurts Leewon in his anger? Like, Leewon has been hit before by his father, during training, but only seldom bc Mikhail frankly speaking has Issues and was not cut out for teaching his son violence himself. But yeah, they fight, there’s injury, and hmm. Not entirely sure if Leewon just stays in his room or moves to another property in the city until his flight to Korea, with Vladimir acting as an unwilling go between father and son because he ALSO thinks this is a shit idea, but if he says so then Leewon won’t talk to him anymore either (and then he wouldn’t talk to anyone, and it’s Vladimir’s job to advise his brother, but he’s supposed to be on his side even more.)
Anyway, Leewon leaves to study and I imagine he only comes home during the holidays which are incredibly tense the first year, but get better after. I don’t think Leewon quite has the concept of I could leave this life. He’s angry and frustrated, but not to the point where he can picture a life where he’s not the family heir? I think he mostly wants to run this business differently and that most of his frustration comes from his father raising him as this sheltered princess in the tower. His best friend is his little brother who his father adopted so he would have someone to talk to. That’s deeply fucked up, especially because he spent his first nine years just attending normal school and playing with the neighborhood kids. Even more, with his mother sick and dying early, Leewon at nine is fairly used to doing things independently, and now suddenly needing an adult to go with him everywhere, if he’s allowed out of the house at all, is horrible.
Now on to our hot mess, the red flag fuck himself.
I was also 200% thinking “oh yeah they absolutely fucked when Leewon was like 15”. To Caesar this is absolutely a game at that point, some matter of pride to get the enemy’s heir in his bed (or just. Beneath him. Imma be honest, I think Leewon ran away, got drunk at a bar and they fucked in a bathroom stall under dubious consent). Drunk teenagers with too much power and too many daddy issues. Leewon got “I’m doing sth that isn’t safe my father would freak about this” out of it.
Anyway, I do think Caesar would be amused at first, and then grow into his - as you put it so aptly it made me wheeze - “hippity hoppity I want you to be my property”. The 11 year old mouthing off against his kidnappers with little strength to back it up was entertaining (Caesar was honestly just there because it seemed easier to just let himself be taken to get to the guy whose head he needs to bash in than wait around) especially because he didn’t hold back. And then it’s a game, deflowering him, taking more and more pieces, not quite like collecting fountain pens or art, more the desire to consume entirely. Till death does them part, yes? Predictably, does not react well to Leewon’s “wow why is my bad decisions fuckbuddy so intense about me?” Behavior and being left out of Leewon’s plans.
My guy has just been assuming that them being fwb means they won’t try to constantly kill each other when they’re All Grown Up and in charge of their father’s businesses. I think this Leewon would very much enjoy the illusion of normalcy, matching Caesar’s freak in the way he reacts when it is interrupted. But I think that also means he’s rather peculiar about upholding the status quo to a degree.
Meanwhile Dimitri has been under the assumption Caesar has been running a long con trying to gobble up Lomonosov via making its heir his boytoy.
Well this got long but I hope you enjoyed my thoughts!!! Feel free to dm me any time, I’d love to hear more of your ideas!
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demon-of-the-ancient-world ¡ 3 months ago
Text
Really trying to get the vibes of the messy messy Paul/Irulan dynamic that lives in my fic and it's hard because we really don't see all too much of their actual relationship dynamic in the books? They're almost never together. All we really know is Irulan is kind of a disaster, Paul pretty much ignores her, she reeeeeally wants him assassinated but also obsessively writes down everything he says. There's some real interesting nuggets in there though, especially combined with how their characters have been shown so far in the movies.
ramblings under the cut:
Because while Irulan still is very much plotting against Paul, 1) the specific Thing I'm working on partly takes place immediately after Part 2 i.e. a long time before that so one of the things I'm working on is figuring out how their relationship evolves over that time and 2) what fascinates me about their relationship is that in a lot of ways it's an inverse of Paul and movie!Chani's. Both women are very much Not Happy with him, but their reasons are reversed. Chani knew him, loved him, and by the end of the film has been deeply betrayed by him on a personal level. For sure they end as political enemies as well, but the main source of strife between them is emotional.
And then Irulan is almost exactly the opposite. She has presumably never met Paul and knows little about him, but (at least in my version/interpretation) is somewhat fascinated by the idea of what he is now. And contrary to Chani, her reasons for conflict with him are about 90% political. Sure, he disposed her father, but I think Irulan - unlike Paul at the beginning and by extension Leto - understands how shaky the rule of a royal family really is and clearly sees the behind the scenes workings of all that it takes to keep that kind of rule in place. Her father killed his, and now he is taking revenge. Of course that results in some level of emotional baggage, but I think she gets it in a way. She's analytical and calculating, and sees this more as a political move on his part than a personal one. He's a threat to her status, to the Imperium as she knows it, but these threats are the sort she would be used to dealing with as an emperor's daughter, albeit on a lesser scale than what he brings.
So on one hand we have Chani's highly-emotional-but-wrapped-up-in-political-views conflict with Paul, and on the other we've got Irulan's emotionally-distant-but-based-in-large-scale-political-motions conflict with him. It's a very different vibe.
I'm also trying to sort out what will hopefully end up being some VERY messy complicated Feelings on her part. There's a whole spectrum of like:
"Who does this kid think he is???"
"...he kind of scares me"
".......he kind of scares me and I hate that a part of me is kind of into it"
"this BITCH took my dad's throne that could've been mine maybe if the patriarchy didn't exist how DARE he you little shit you won't get away with this istg I'm going to slit your throat --"
"wait ok if things weren't so fucked up you'd actually be a crazy interesting person hold still so I can put your brain in a test tube you weirdo"
"genuinely kind of wish I was just loved. No not by my husband ugh buuuut it's a shame our marriage sucks ass can't he just Be Nice"
"look how hard I'm manipulating him I'm such a girlboss he thinks he's won but I'm manipulating him soooo hard right now good job me"
"...this little shit doesn't scare me"
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thelaundrybitch ¡ 1 year ago
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Link your three favorite fics right now
How do you write smut scenes? Do you get very visual or detailed? How important is it to be realistic?
Share a snippet from a WIP
YAY! Thank you for sending me an ask!
Link your three favorite fics right now
Woven by Nacatu on Wattpad and AO3 (2012 tmnt)
LINK HERE
Pocky Game by Moonbean21 on Quotev (Bayverse Raph)
LINK HERE
Shells, Tails, and Freelancers by @sharpwindow (Bayverse turts)
LINK HERE
How do you write smut scenes? Do you get very visual or detailed? How important is it to be realistic?
Ok, Im'a be honest.
I don't really enjoy writing *smut*
I prefer to write romance, and romantic scenes that potentially end up in some steamy bedroom time.
I don't necessarily get very visual or detailed, I'm more about dialog and feelings. For me, those are the most important to portray during a love scene.
As for realistic? I mean... Feelings and dialog, I try my best. I think if I can get myself to enjoy my bedroom scenes, then they are realistic enough 💖
Share a snippet from a WIP
WOOHOO! Going for gold here! 🥳
It's a bit out of context and messy, but here you go. It's with my tmnt OC Basilio - who is the eldest of my iteration of the turtle bros.
Warning, Thirsty bitch under the cut
💙💙💙💙💙💙💙
I'm in a dojo.
None that I recognize.
It's dark and quiet.
There's a whole bunch of plants - mainly bonsai- lining the walls on scattered shelves.
It's incredibly peaceful.
As I'm spinning in place to see the rest of the room I've jumped to, I see him.
Sitting with his back to me, in deep meditation.
Quietly I walk to him, thinking I'm being sneaky, but his hand whips out and grabs my wrist and with a sudden yank I'm in his lap.
“You're not where you're supposed to be, Ma Reine,” Basilio hums into my ear. His lips find mine immediately, and I can't help the moan that follows my surprised gasp.
The kiss isn't nearly as long as I want it to be, so when he pulls back from it, I end up chasing him for more.
He lets out a low chuckle and places a few sweet kisses on my needy lips.
“Where am I supposed to be?” I ask, still trying to get him to kiss me.
He's all smiles as he kisses me everywhere but my lips. “With the other three. Today was my solitary day,” he tells me. 
I pull back and give him a sobered look of concern.
“It's required by dad,” he says, “I have exactly zero issues with you popping in on me,” he tells me before I can even spiral into my anxious guilt. His hand finds the back of my head as it tangles through my hair, pulling my lips to his for one of those kisses.
God I just.
No brain activity.
Just pure feelings.
“So,” he says, breaking the kiss, “why me?”
I feel my body flush with hot adrenaline as I blush from head to toe.
Thank God it's dark in here.
He snickers, “You look like I just caught you reading my diary. Fess up,” he teases with a poke to my side.
I squirm a bit, bringing my hands to my face, embarrassed about how I'm going to present this.
“I've been thinking about you all day,” I say quietly.
He moves my hands to reveal a single raised brow ridge and a smug smirk.
“Oh?” he asks, his eyes searching my face until they fall to my lips, where they stay and wait for my response.
*gulp*
I know if I open my mouth I’m going to embarrass myself further so I just nod, instead.
“I thought about you all day too…” He confesses, with a flirty wink. “So tell me,” he says, while moving so suddenly I don’t realize I’m on my back and pinned under him until it’s too late. “What kind of thoughts… were you having?”
There’s no escaping him.
I mean, this is Basilio we’re talking about.
So instead I close my eyes and get it over with, “Thirsty ones,” I admit.
I feel his warm breath in my ear, “Why are you embarrassed? I’ve been having thirsty dreams about you for years,” he purrs, before his lips make real estate down my neck.
“Not dreams…” I let out a pleasurable gasp when his open mouth leaves a love mark on his descent. “Active… uhm… actively thinking,” I get out through some heavy breathing.
“I didn’t say mine happened while I was asleep. They were a conscious decision. And I enjoyed every second of them.” He’s so matter-of-fact about it, I end up squeezing him between my thighs, because oh. My. God. 
“You gonna share, so I can make your dreams come true, Ma Reine?” He purrs between kisses that are making me thirstier. The kisses are everywhere but my mouth.
His self-control is killing me.
💙💙💙💙💙💙
Hope you enjoyed the snippet! You can Find out more about Basilio HERE
Again, Thank you so much for asking me some questions! I love doing these!
Questions are from this post HERE for anyone else who may want to use it or to ask more questions!
~tags for the sneak peek~
@leosgirl82 @leoandraphssoulmate @eveandtheturtles @ninjaintheshadow @replicasey @scholastic-dragon @justalotoffanfiction @meowph-132
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siriuslysatorusimping ¡ 2 years ago
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I absolutely LOVE this series! And especially Rinko and just how 3 dimensional she feels as a character!
Her and Gojo's dynamic is just 🤌*chefs kiss*
And you do such a good job to keep Gojo in character! Every dialogue and decision he makes just feels so Gojo and I love how their personalities complement each other and clash sometimes as well because of their respective past and traumas
We love the healthy communication and boundary respect✨️✨️
But i wanted to ask what is everyones ages currently? Rinko and Gojo but also Megumi because his age has always confused me in canon from when exactly Gojo found him.
And also has Shoko ever opened up to Rinko about Geto? and maybe how Gojo distanced himself after as well?
Thank you SO MUCH 🥹🥹 I'm so glad you're enjoying it!! I love the characters and I find it so fun writing them together 😊
The comments and asks people send make my day, truly.
My full response, because I am a wordy bitch, will be under the cut!!
(A note after I have finished writing this response, I am SO SORRY for how long this post is... 🫠)
Read Another Level on AO3 :)
Rinko, Rinko/Gojo dynamic, Trauma
I think maybe I've mentioned it before, but Rinko has quickly become one of my favorite OCs I've ever written. She's strong, sassy, and so fun to write because of how much I've gotten to develop her character.
Her relationship with Gojo is fun because it's so antagonistic but also based so deeply on trust and mutual respect that their entire friendship and relationship would be impossible without. She knows he doesn't respect people hardly at all, but he's made it very clear, since after their very first fight, that he has respect for her.
They both have so much trauma. And they are both so messy. And it makes them so fun to write because it makes them so human.
Their dynamic is also perfect because of how they are with conflict:
Rinko will avoid conflict. She runs as fast as she can because if she runs before the conflict, she can't be rejected after the conflict. She will stand her ground when she has to (Last Stand, eh?) but she will run when she can. She's lived her entire life being told she was an unwanted mistake, dealing with rejection in so many ways. (But you can't reject her if she's already gone.) Remember in Hollow Echoes? When Gojo was actually trying to get her to talk to him and she was avoiding him? When she tells herself he doesn't want to see or talk to her even though he is insistently texting her? This bitch really trying to be a track star with how much she will run.
Gojo, on the other hand, will chase. He doesn't let her hide away. He respects her space when she needs it, just as he asks of her, but when he knows she's just running to run? He is relentless. He is a brute force kind of person. He is all 'pay attention to me because I'm the greatest and strongest and chosen one' and when he knows it's not violating her boundaries, he will push and push until she lets him in. But it's why he's so insistent on understanding where her boundaries are, so that he can tell when he's nearing a line.
As they grow together, she starts to become more comfortable with pushing him when she knows he needs it. She'll stand her ground with him more often and it's going to be beautiful. Because we'll see that he doesn't mind her pushing him when she asks first instead of assuming.
Gojo's character
BRUH 💀 I just really love blue-eyed, overly confident, cocksure fuckers, who are secretly so FUCKING SOFT, I guess. I actually have a different character in an original work of mine, who is similar to Gojo in SO MANY WAYS that it's scary. I think it might be what made me fall in love with Gojo so quickly when I first got into JJK.
But as for Gojo: His character is so multidimensional while seeming so damn shallow at the same time. And that is really fun to write. Because at the end of the day: the asshole is absolutely so fucking shallow and selfish. He cares about Rinko, but their entire dynamic started because he was a cocky shit who hated that someone beat him.
His initial attraction to Rinko started because he wanted to break her and prove he was stronger until he realized that she already knew and just didn't care. She denied him. And she read him like a fucking book by knowing it would drive him crazy. He knew she wanted him too, and it annoyed him that she turned him down just to get under his skin. And it annoyed him even more that it worked.
It blew him away when, even as she was literally in his lap, having just cum on his fingers right after he spanked her and she still looked him in the eye and stated she should have known he wouldn't be able to make her cum. And it drove him fucking crazy because he'd never, ever been pushed in so many ways.
His multidimensional ass is still based off his arrogance in being the strongest, and that makes him so fun.
✨Healthy Communication and Boundaries✨
That's it. That's this section.
JUST KIDDING.
Okay, but it's built and it works because of mutual trust and respect that is the foundation of it all.
It's displayed so perfectly in how well he reads her in the second part of Hollow Echoes:
“If you can’t speak,” he reached up, grasping her hand in his. “Squeeze my hand twice if your color is red.”
He knew she physically could speak, but that she didn't want to. She didn't want to admit allowed that he had her, and he knew that. And he understood that that was actually a boundary she was unintentionally setting, and he understood that forcing her to speak would be pushing her too far. So he gave her a different way to express her consent and then doubled down on ensuring she knew that she could tell him 'no' at any point and that it was okay.
She gripped his hand tightly, feeling her nails digging into his skin. But she didn’t squeeze again, and he looked up now, his eyes searching her face. She knew he could see how her jaw trembled as she refused to meet his eyes, tears still sliding down the sides of her face. “You know,” he said quietly. “At any point your color changes, you tell me?”
Had she squeezed his hand twice, he would have stopped without question and I just AHHH I LOVE IT SO MUCH. Healthy communication is my kink, guys.
Has Shoko ever opened up about Geto and Gojo growing distant?
Yes and no.
Shoko is a pretty private person. And we've already seen that Rinko doesn't like pushing people to open up. She knew that Shoko was relatively close with both of them, and she knows that it really upset her friend when Geto decided to go a different path and Gojo began distancing himself. But, in our world, it wasn't as jarring for her because she had Rinko.
Rinko and Shoko met early during first year. And Rinko's presence in her life meant she ended up spending less of her off time with Gojo and Geto, and more with Rinko. And when Geto left, and Gojo distanced himself, she just spent more time with Rinko instead of with either of them.
Rinko mentions that she and Shoko used to get lunch at least once a month, but saw each other more often after her semi-grade promotion, so essentially, if she wasn't with Gojo or Nanami while she was in Tokyo, she was with Shoko.
As a small spoiler, we will be getting a single chapter from Shoko's perspective in the future 😊 And it'll give a bit of a different perspective and view of Rinko and how well the two know each other.
Lastly for this, we also have to remember that Shoko doesn't really show emotions that often. She's pretty shrewd and straightforward, but we'll get to see her panic a few times because of Rinko over the course of the series.
Character Ages
Ah! I've been planning on posting something about this!! So I'll take this chance and then probably make a larger, separate post about it.
A quick answer: As of Innate Issues - Part 2, Rinko is 26.
Gojo Satoru was born on December 7, 1989.
Kurisaki Rinko was born on October 18, 1989.
Rinko is a little less than two months OLDER than Gojo. So he'll eventually make a joke about liking older women. I don't know when, but he's the kind of little shit that would.
Maki and Mai were born on January 20, 2002.
Megumi was born on December 22, 2002.
Gojo met Megumi not long after killing Toji, and had been visiting him occasionally for a few years when he met Rinko. In the flashback in Strength in Numbers, he had just made the connection between why Toji had ever cared about having Rinko's help, prompting him to bring Megumi up. Early-mid 2012, Megumi was nine and would turn ten that December.
Below, I've included our timeline up until where we are right now, broken down by Title, Rinko's Age, Year, and Month:
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AHHHH I'M SO SORRY THIS WAS SO LONG I HATE HOW WORDY I GET SOMETIMES 😭😭😭
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carmenized-onions ¡ 6 months ago
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Just wanted to hop in and wish you a happy birthday!! Also wanted to praise you and your writing. Literally everything is perfect from the flow, to the composition, the characterizations, and of course the masterful weaving of the reader insert into the lives at the beef and the bear. Honestly I even love the visual font style that you write in! I'm absolutely not shocked that you write professionally and wish they had you in the writers room at The Bear. You're absolutely phenomenal! I also wanted to ask what, if any, are your favorite episodes from the show? I love any episode with a Mikey flashback because as an oldest child with trauma and younger siblings I'd do anything for; he's kind of my thing. Anyway thanks for writing and looking forward to more!! You're so lovely. ❤️
THANK YOU LOVE !!
This means the world, I gotta print this and tape it to my inner eyelids. I am a very detail oriented bitch so it really does mean a lot to hear that like yes the characterization and story is good but ALSO the visuals/the composition is good— That makes me so so happy. Like the little intro headers, the chapter image, the fuckin’ scene ombre dividers (day for Chip, night for Carm)-- The quotation marks being in times new roman was honestly not something I did on purpose because I just copy and paste from word because I hate writing in tumblr drafts— However once I noticed it made a difference, I could never go back.
GIRRLLLL GET ME IN THAT WRITERS ROOM WHO DO WE HAVE TO CALLLL— But really, who’s got a film job for me I’ve been slogging at this admin job and it’s fine but I would like. To be. In the career i was meant to be in. (recently joined the union though so hopefully the iron strikes soon man hhhhhh). AND WOAH A QUESTION!! What ARE my favourite episodes…
I’d say anything with Mikey 100% weirdly as a baby child with a lot of trauma? I find a lot of comfort in that guy man. He’s absolutely also my thing. But lemme pull up the fuckin directory we’ll go season by season. 
OH such a lowkey episode but S1EP04 Dogs will always have a special place in my heart. So will the pilot episode honestly, I love love love dropping into the story half way through it, it’s a tell tale rule my prof taught me and I can’t believe more shows don’t do it nowadays. Also Season 1’s finale Braciole will always be that bitch. I also think let me just check… Yeah, it’s this one. With the Cooking Show Intro? That opening genuinely scared the shit out of me because it was exactly like a short film I made. And i was like
Oh is this fucking play about me? What the FUCK?! I DID NOT PUT MY BIRTHDAY IN?
Season 2, gotta be Fishes and Forks. Fishes and Forks y’ALL WILL ALWAYS BE FAMOUS!!! And again, the finale FUCK bro. Freezer fight had me GOING. Literally the reason why i made the series. I’m gone. 
Season 3,,,,, Little uh…. Little less of my favorites here, I’ll be honest. But Napkins and Ice Chips were absolutely my favourites. The finale was a little messy to me, as was the opening episode (I just think in general they’ve always had a kind of very inaccurate timeline going, and so it was very hard to follow some points but like good? Like it’s grown on me? I just felt like I was on crack for the first 10 minutes). 
And this has been your onion review of da bear. Thank you so much for your thoughts I hope you like the next chap too !!!
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16sydd16 ¡ 9 months ago
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Don't know how Tumblr works, so tell me if I'm doing things wrong but...7 and 26 from that list? Love your story!
You’re perfect!! I’m rediscovering tumblr after 4 years away, so we can struggle through it together🤗
7. What inspired the idea for the plot?
Well, I saw 2024 exactly one time, and from the SECOND Regina appeared onscreen, I was like “Oh my gosh. These bitches GAY!” And then I… couldn’t stop thinking about them. Read a couple fics that I loved, and thought I’d write a silly little oneshot. What’s the harm in a oneshot, right? Famous last words! “Get in, Loser!” is quickly approaching 300 pages.
The plot was born out of the idea of “what if we actually let cadina be gay?” and just sort of spiraled from there. I became obsessed with the idea that Cady being a tiny bit bolder and Regina being a little less closed off would alter the story drastically, and it has! These girls are still messy and figuring things out, but they’re both better off for it, I think. I’m personally in love with writing a Regina that becomes softer over time—one that becomes more introspective when hit with overt and unavoidable lesbianism rather than a big yellow school bus. How would things have changed if Regina admitted to herself that she had a crush on Cady and let herself act on it a little? How would things be different if Cady decided not to take part in the revenge plot? Eventually, I had too many ideas to rein them in, and now we’re dealing with cute Halloween costumes, basketball Regina, and my completely unexpected but fervent love for and defense of Shane Oman. Who would’ve thought?🤓
26. Fun fact!
Shane wasn’t supposed to be anything but a plot device originally! There’s a throwaway line early on about Regina’s dad not liking him because he made a joke about hooking up in the janitor’s closet, and that was supposed to be his only mention, apart from him being Regina’s panic boyfriend. Along the way, I accidentally fell in love with lesbro Shane and he’s become an integral part of the story and a sort of “protector of the plastics.” This kind of happened with Geoff and Kylie, too! These side characters just sort of wormed their way into my heart and into this story, and now they’re here to stay!
Another fun fact is that I have consumed an ungodly number of Haribo twin snakes while writing this fic. Like… a truly SHOCKING amount.
Thank you so much for the ask and for liking “Get in, Loser!” I’m always so psyched to hear you’re enjoying it🤗💖
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fvji-kvjakv ¡ 2 years ago
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DIRECTOR’S CUT AND COMMENTARY
OPENING NOTES:
hello hello!!! i’ve always wanted to do a commentary and for my first to be for this fic, i couldn’t even begin to say how pleased i am. over the last few months, this fic has been my baby: i don’t write plot, i don’t like fluff, but this prompt just called out to me and i knew i could finally write the comedy of my dreams. 
the reason i called it supercut is explained later in the fic, so i hope you manage to catch that line! as far as characterisation goes, i think it’s a kind of dynamic you can expect from two people who have only been around each other all their lives. there’s nothing else there until you see them apart. they just gravitate towards each other. the reason i mainly shed light on san’s character through flashbacks was because i needed there to be the perfect level of “you are my past, present and future” for me. this was just what worked.
what you have received is exactly what my humour is, unfortunately, so i only pray you find this fic funny as well. written with no purpose but to make readers laugh, i hope supercut was enjoyable to read, and i can’t wait to see if anyone managed to pick out all the real scenarios from this fic considering there are so MANY, some of which i mention in this commentary. 
but i have to say before i start that i do not remember writing any of this for most part, so i’ll only be talking about little easter eggs i’ve thrown in here that i only noticed during this reread. with that out of the way, let’s begin! 
COMMENTARY:
And then he’s out like a light. As San slumbers next to him, Wooyoung can’t help but wonder if the human heart was meant to beat this loudly.
ok. so. what a way to start. i don’t actually have much to say about the scene generally, apart from that i only wrote this to set the tone and shed some light on what wooyoung and san’s relationship used to be and what it eventually evolves into.
Wooyoung had snorted, and the visual of Mingi walking into a glass wall right then had immediately changed the subject, and that was the end of that.
inspired by the time i ran full speed into a wall of glass and cried about it bc i got made fun of by my cousins
Wooyoung calls it objective admiration and Yeosang calls it bullshit. Jongho usually likes to stay out of their business.
very much inspired by my group of friends
“House,” Wooyoung says. “He says to bring bitches.”
“I’m already bringing you, though,” San immediately answers, and then ducks when Wooyoung throws a pillow at him. “Who’s going?”
this is. so funny to me personally. this fic became a very weird amalgamation of american and english humour and you can really tell when you start to read: there are some specific english vocabularies used later to mark the difference, but the reason i mixed things up (as far as i remember), is because as an international student abroad, your humour tends to match up in a lot of funky ways. i think it is inevitable to kind of. end up with layers. to You as a person esp with forced proximity and a change in environment but i love it because it describes my friends and i very accurately! (can u tell i wrote supercut with my loved ones in mind) 
“Proudly,” San sneers, and then he chugs half the carton in one go. “Now scram. I can feel you staring. I know I’m the sexy husband but I’m not just a hot piece of ass, you know.”
this is directly taken from conversations i’ve had with friends where we roleplay as a really messy friend group. married to. each other 
Wooyoung is deep into Yeosang’s bottle of Captain Morgan’s
all we did first year was drink rum <3 
Yeosang has been trying to roll a joint for the better half of the last hour while his boyfriend watches helplessly and the others are playing the world’s most intense round of Monopoly Deal when the doorbell rings. 
the amt of times i have been yeosang here. and also the amt of times i’ve had game nights with friends and family and it always ends with violence 
“So,” Yeosang starts, “Monthly BDSM test?” 
Wooyoung turns his phone back on.
idk what to tell u. my friends and i did this monthly just to mess with each other
“Your mum,” Yeosang says.
Jongho just whistles and reaches for a high five. “Nice.”  
San glares. “What are you, twelve?”
“Yeah,” Yeosang nods casually, blowing a blueberry-flavoured stream of vapour at San’s face. “Twelve inches in your mum.”
very real conversation i heard my cousin say to another player when we were 12 years old and fucking with them online over a game of cod (minus the vape)
It’s so loose, kief falling from the tip, that even San just stares at him. “Yes, I know it sucks. Jongho—”
#throwback to the time my horrid rolling skills let me down at what felt like rock bottom 
Wooyoung tiredly wipes a bead of sweat from his temple before bringing his hand to wipe away the juice all over his mouth. He’s made a mess, he thinks, eyeing the green stickiness all over his palm. His brother’s going to tease him all over again.
this is nothing more than what used to be routine for me: my uncle had a car and he would usually take all of us to the park and then to the harbour where we’d get slushies and popsicles while we watched the sunset…!
San babbling next to him about the newest Digimon game his sister has gifted
this was actually a very common occurrence in my household growing up, though i do have to confess it was mostly about pokÊmon! we were little nerds on picnics with our gameboys out <3 
“I bet you liked it.”
The silence is deafening.
“What’s wrong with you?” Jongho asks gently. “I genuinely want to know.”
i was jongho in this scene 
“Don’t you make playlists all the time?”
part of the reason why this prompt called out to me is that the main arc is making playlists — something i do constantly all the time because it’s a big love language of mine. it just felt a little funny, picking apart my whole life, only to end up with this fic. but i think that’s why this one will always mean so much! 
Glimmering smiles over the edges of wine. Hushed commentaries about the relevance of Gossip Girl in today’s climate and frozen pizza.
Things inevitably go back to normal as things always do.
there’s nothing for me to comment on i just really like this bit 
They’ve known each other for years—months weeks days hours minutes seconds—and Wooyoung doesn’t know how to feel about the fact that San has conveniently wiped their history away, leaving nothing but a blank slate.
the reason i highlighted this was because i needed it to be emphasised just How long they have known each other like how many seconds in those years have they spent together and with each other. a little crazy
San is humming along to the opening notes of Mr. Brightside
have u lived in england if u haven’t sung this on every night out actually
“I’ve always wanted to kiss someone to this song,” he blurts.
my best friend and i had a very serious discussion about him wanting to do this and i’m glad to update everyone with news that he has succeeded thumbs up emoji
“This is going to sound awful,” Jongho finally says, laughing under his breath as he leans back in his seat, a distant look on his face. “But probably when I realised I’d let him roll shitty joints for me forever.”
this is 100% real one of my friends said this to my face 
“Put that camera away!” Wooyoung yells, “What are you waiting for?”
this seems much. bigger than it actually is. but this is taken from the time i went on a trip around uk and did a lot of hiking with my friends. we were setting off fireworks to celebrate the new year, and one of my friends who’s a photographer wouldn’t come set them off because he was too busy taking pictures of us! 
“On God, man.”
“Just stop talking.”
“Anyway, when is our train tonight?”
“Oh, it’s—”
this entire phone call. i was asleep, hungover and also sick to boot, and my cousin who’s about 8 hours ahead had called me without realising i was majorly unwell. it went exactly like this, only for him to ask me where his girlfriend was. of course, i hung up on him without further response. 
Tonight, every single one of them was in Leeds for the weekend—they got an Airbnb, they stole their host’s rolling paper while arguing that there shouldn’t have been rolling paper in the first place, and then they cracked the bottles out once they started getting ready, long-winded compilations of Max Verstappen and Charles LeClerc playing in the background, courtesy of Jung Yunho’s current Formula 1 phase.
those who have my twitter will know what this is about. but basically. me and moot were in london bc she was visiting me and we literally ran out of rolling paper on the second day in the middle of her getting me into f1. we checked all over the place and what do u know. the paper is right there. it should not have been there but thank u olga. if u are seeing this that is why u have a new set of rolling papers in ur drawer i felt really bad and wanted to get a new one for u
Wooyoung just lets out a breathless laugh before he promptly turns around, letting San settle behind him. Dizzee Rascal blares from the speakers, the familiar beat thundering through his veins.
the song is dance wiv me btw this is one of the three songs my friends and i Must play during pres before we go out
“Go piss, girl,” comes Yeosang’s voice.
no comment i just think this is so funny 
Wooyoung knows one thing: he can’t make this shit up anymore.
also no comment but <3 this is tian’s line <3 thank u for the feedback and support i luv u so much
jongho: fuck mondays…… i mean its just another day to me but for the school students out there, fuck mondays……
ANOTHER REAL CONVO nier. never change. i love you
When Wooyoung is sixteen, pants around his ankles while he takes the biggest shit of his life to Eminem’s Ass Like That, his girlfriend dumps him.
umm. also real. i was literally mid shit when the guy i was seeing ended things over text and all i said was “ok cool be well king 🙏” 
San is already watching him, hand raised to bring his beer to his mouth. There’s a soft smile playing on his lips, gaze terribly warm and tender. Slow and unbothered. Somehow, they always find each other. The music disappears until it’s just the two of them. You’re my best friend. I’m living. Young-ah. San is looking at him like he knows something Wooyoung doesn’t again. Does that taste good? You’re my forever. What are you waiting for? San takes a step, then two, and then he’s walking over. Young-ah, Young-ah, Young-ah. You’re my forever, San’s voice echoes. 
this entire paragraph. it means so much to me. i think my style has changed so much since the first fic i had ever written for ateez, and i would like to think that all the experiences i’ve had here, with everyone around me, i have grown. as a writer and as a person. to be honest, i think i spoiled myself with this fic and i can never go back to writing dirty things like i used to. i think this is the kind of writing i am meant to produce.
“I think I’m in love with you.” 
“Oh,” Wooyoung breathes. He nods once, twice. “Okay. I love you too.”
okay. so. this. i couldn’t make them get together in a flashy, manic way. it needed to feel natural, and what i felt was that these two knew it was the right time, that it is finally time to take the next step. because it makes sense and because it is as natural as breathing. and so it is. like that. 
Their walk home isn’t rushed as Wooyoung expects. They take the ten minutes and walk around aimlessly in circles until it’s been at least an hour of San telling Wooyoung what his day has been like until they reach their place.
THIS PART!!!!! again, back to it being natural. it is just another day for them, all things considered, so it just makes sense to keep going about life as they always do. they’ll figure it out together. 
The bell dings once they’ve reached their floor, and instead of stepping out of the elevator, San keeps on kissing Wooyoung like he knows he will be able to do it again.
you don’t know. how obsessed i am with this line. that san finally knows he can kiss wooyoung. that he can keep doing it forever. or as long as wooyoung wants because he’s been waiting for so long. waiting for wooyoung to catch up. 
He shakes when San presses a finger inside him and he laughs when San says I love you against his belly.
they are just so!!!! elated!!!!! and giddy!!!!!!!!!!!
They talk about anything and everything and Wooyoung cries himself laughing when San tells him that after the seduction attempt, San had jacked himself off and cried because he had felt so guilty about defiling the memory of his best friend in his head.
I’M SORRY LIKE. THE VISUAL WAS TOO FUNNY NOT TO WRITE
Watches San moan Wooyoung’s name until Wooyoung’s hips are stuttering on every gasp. Watches as San falls in love with him a million times in a matter of seconds.
just another line that i Especially love <3
as for the sex scene, i actually didn’t want to write it at first. i originally only had two little paragraphs dedicated to the scene because i had wanted to step away from smut and see things without a nsfw lens. but then they started acting up. i had to write Something even if it was miniscule and not at all my style <3 
“I was born by C-section so I’m a gold star gay,” Yeosang says smoothly, not even missing a beat. “No vaginas on my record.”
THIS IS REAL I PROMISE we now refer to the guy who said this to my best friend as “c-section gay”
“You absolute bellend,” Wooyoung says, shooting Yeosang a venomous glare.
“You’re already learning!”
only because my two favourite aggressively english words to use are “cunt” and “bellend” 
wooyoung: why do my feet always feel so warm when i wake up
yeosang: we don’t want to hear abt ur feet wooyoung
san: @wooyoung sorry ill stop
taken from the time nier admitted to liking my feet  
“Wait, did you buy another Polo pack again? I can’t fucking taste anything, mate.”
my polo addiction… 🕊️💔
Just as he predicts, Yeosang and Jongho get back together. Taylor Swift and Joe Alwyn on the other hand, he figures, is not for him to decide.
this entire scene is dedicated to my best friend who cried about them breaking up. update: she is keeping up to date with the matty healy dating rumours, and i have to say, i don’t think she is pleased. 
San surprises him with a tub of ice cream and a Spotify playlist, sitting on a bench and talking for what seems like hours until they finally get up and start making their way back.
OK. THIS BIT. i intentionally made it sound like a throwaway line but it is not. it’s overshadowed by the Very dirty sex implied right after, but this is the first time san ever makes a playlist. and he intentionally made it for wooyoung who is his sole audience. it just felt fitting to end with a playlist since it begins with a playlist. full circle, lads. 
CLOSING NOTES:
PHEW. what a ride. i didn’t realise i had so much to say in so little, but i’m thankful. i hope everyone who reads this enjoys it as much as i enjoyed writing it. i may not remember much, but the few memories i have are all good. 
this fic made me want to Write again after years of staying away from plot. i think i’m one step closer to figuring myself out. additionally, thank you to all of my friends who took the time out of their day to encourage me to write this, i cannot thank you enough. i can’t wait to write another fic for you soon. 
see you when the next one comes out, my loves! <3 
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violetren ¡ 2 years ago
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Aether Chapter 27
This is the official start of my "Give Chance Rights, and also all their stuff back!" 2k23 campaign.
Of fucking course the government would lock away all their assets under the context of "we don't know if they count as a person" but that doesn't mean I'm not furious about it.
I am curious if Focus made the holo projector based on old knowledge, or if she just had one lying around as a remnant of her world/her travels.
Emilia might give her wife shit but she broke the mood perfectly after the "time at a different scale leaves us impossibly lonely" convo. It's nice for Maggie and Chance that they have each other to discuss that feeling with even if its not exactly a one to one comparison, they are the closest each other has got.
Also another instance of Varsha being a sweetheart.
Eurion is a total softie when she wants to be huh? Ordering ahead for Varsha and Maggie because she knows Varsha's metabolism, and because Maggie has been working hard and jumping on board with Jia Li's suggestion of teaching some special dragon meditation techniques the second the topic came up.
If Maggie and Varsha ever do dip a toe into polyamory they'd be far better off with Eurion than Sierra. And Eurion has been through a lot surrounded by all these hot unavailable lesbians, she deserves a little extra love.
I am ecstatic that Chance has jumped aboard Focus's peanut butter obsession train.
Oh that's what Bitch Boy Ragusa needs. Ties to a shady international cabal of criminals. He wasn't annoying enough already. Follow up book where Danny and Ayanda kick his ass into obscurity when? (mostly joking)
Also I fucking called the Unitarium funding Garrett theory! Nomi will be PISSED.
"How the fuck do you miss a whole ass fucking moon?" made me laugh because I can imagine the distress threaded into the annoyance at the levels of incompetency being shown.
I can't believe we got Chance, Stupidhead and Maggie in a room together and we didn't even get to see Chance snark at Stupidhead for how she's been treating Maggie the past couple of days because plot was happening.
Don't get me wrong, it's good plot. It's a fantastically comic-booky superhero plot and exactly the kind of story I expect and want to be happening as a vehicle to carry my messy lesbian romances. I just really want to see Sierra go from grumpy to speechless to defensively furious while Maggie puts her face in her hands and internally debates just teleporting to the other side of the planet instead of peace keeping, after Chance calls her Stupidhead to her face.
Using Emilia's origin story to explain what the potential threat was in a way that makes it clear and yet limits what we know another characters limited knowledge and perspective was a very cool way of going about this section. It expands on what we know of Airheart, it gives us an idea of the potential threat levels, and it just helps unfold more world building all in one go. Just a very clever use available writing resources, I like it.
I was so ready to just start laughing at the idea of later down the line Maggie purposefully trying to arrive to brunch after all the dragons so she doesn't accidentally get thrown into the aether when the assorted dragons roar their way in, and circumstances just never quite letting it work out. Just every other brunch Maggie's got some french toast, or a mimosa half way to her mouth and "Roar"*pop*"dammit"
But then she had some kind of revelation and now I have to balance the fact that I need to be up early to run the shop with my desire to read the next chapter rn immediately.
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