#hope u like it 🫶

[leviscolwill]

drive me crazy ! (smau)

pairing: bsf!mason mount x reader (+ minimal jadon sancho x reader)

summary: you and mason are just friends, he's just not into sharing you with his teammates ! (face claim: jorja douglas)

note: forgive me for this contains profanities and suggestiveness 😞✋

now playing drive ME crazy ! by lil yachty...

yn.jpg

liked by sanchooo10, masonmount and 4,814 others

yn.jgp searching 'how to start a conversation' on a website

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user92 fittest girl around

masonmount your antisocial ass should've done that a long time ago

yn.jpg i don't need to start any conversation when you're being sociable enough for the two of us 😇

sanchooo10 idk it seems you can hold a conversation pretty well to me

yn.jpg it's all chatgpt's work

sanchooo10 that's what i thought

masonmount

what's going on ?

yn.jpg

wdym

masonmount

jadon ?

really ?

yn.jpg

what you asking for tho 🤨🤨

there's nothing going onnnn

yet 🤭

masonmount

shut up.

you said you'd never date a footballer

or am i the only one getting this treatment 😞

yn.jpg

stop spreading misinformation ‼️

i'm not dating him

masonmount

if you wanted to fuck a footballer you should've just asked me smh

yn.jpg

are you saying i'm ran through sir ?

bold coming from you

he's the one who dmed me anyways 🙄

and you wouldn't have given me his number

gatekeeper

masonmount

yeah ur right

yn.jpg

liked by masonmount, benchilwell and 17,201 others

yn.jpg passenger princessed [tagged: sanchooo10]

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masonmount you really ditched me for this guy ? [this comment has been deleted by its author]

sanchooo10 ur unreal

sanchooo10 u can be my passenger princess anytime you want 🫶

masonmount i'm still her favourite driver bro 😹😹 [this comment has been deleted by its author]

masonmount beautiful ❤️

yn.jpg thank you my masey mase 🫶🫶

masonmount

liked by reecejames, judebellingham and 1,013,816 others

masonmount καλωσήρθατε (welcome)

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madders okay slim shady

yn.jpg do blondes really have more fun ?

masonmount not when you're here

yn.jpg stop lying you're so happy i came here

masonmount you what here 😧

yn.jpg who dyed your hair ?? she did such a good job 😻

masonmount idk but she kept hitting on me i think i'm gna block her

yn.jpg and i think you're delusional

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liked by pasabist, wolfiecindy and 34,197 others

yn.jpg been a hot minute

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sanchooo10 very hot indeed

yn.jpg thank uuu

masonmount more delusional than me [this comment has been deleted by its author]

masonmount i am no better than a man 😞

yn.jpg idk how to tell u this...

masonmount i look so good on this pic

yn.jpg i should have thrown you off the ship when i had the opportunity 😪

masonmount

liked by ur.bsf, declanrice and 1,498,627 others

masonmount my girl my girl my girl

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declanrice finally

judebellingham finally

benchilwell finally

ur.bsf finally

ur.bsf took you long enough 🙄

masonmount took ME long enough ?????

yn.jpg i thought i was gna get my driver's license before it happened ngl

masonmount @yn.jpg AND WHOSE FAULT IS THAT HUH ?

yn.jpg always keep your football playing best friends close 🤩🤞

masonmount acting like you didn't reject me a hundred times over 10 years

yn.jpg i'm not sure that's something u wanna say on beyonce's internet bae

yn.jpg oh how much i love you

masonmount idk i thought you liked a certain someone more than me tho

yn.jpg that's cause jealousy looks good on you 🤭

[pangwave]

[ X ] DON'T RUN AWAY THIS TIME OUR DATING SIM (2023) for @soulmatelines [ happy birthday jo 💗 ]

[snowangeldotmp3]

For the fictitle ask:

"Love is such a better thing to do"

Saw the Luna Moth Wip title and that makes me want to read more fics with Maya's songs as names. (This is from Sweet Tooth)

:)

“why are you looking at me like that?”

“like what?” robin asks. “i’m not looking at you.”

nancy smiles. “yes you were.”

(the one where robin falls in love easy, loves nancy wholly, and nancy has a hard time with her own feelings, but loves robin too. she just has a hard time saying it sometimes.)

send me made up fic titles <3

[lotus-pear]

ace detective more like ace DEFECTIVE

[tomatoart]

doodle page who cheered

[chronicpaingirlie]

tbh as someone with largely invisible disabilities it’s so validating when people see me and are like “woah u look dead rn” like yeah thats how i always feel 😭 it just happens to show rn

[reunitedinterlude]

shoulder touches // for anon

[saleeba]

fool ; jude bellingham

summary ♡ betting on the phenomenon of unrequited feelings, you and jude have never dared to make the first move with the other until a reunion forces new questions to be answered.

pairing ♡ jude bellingham x fem!reader

content ♡ 18+, smut, friends to lovers, alcohol consumption, cursing, kissing, both jude & reader are pining idiots, fingering, p in v sex, marking, missionary, unprotected sex (jude pulls out but still pls practise safe sex!!)

a/n ♡ she's baaaack :D but first☝🏽alexa play fool by nct 127 !!!! the lyric "you’re a goddess but i’m a fool, what should i do?" was written for this fic in particular i just know it was :] anyway hehe this fic is based off this request so tysmm to anon for sending such an exciting prompt !! i hope yous enjoy 🫶🏽💗 WAIT P.S this isn’t proofread bc i lowkey am not rocking with it so i didn’t wanna put myself thru having to read it again & again … im sorry for any mistakes :’)

you had just gotten off work to a stream of relentless texts from your best friends’ groupchat — phone pinging off the rails whilst you were on shift, muffled buzzes from your bag making you wonder what on earth was worth blowing up in that whatsapp group on a random friday afternoon.

on the train back home, you tap open the green app, anticipating yourself easily spending the entire journey catching up on the three hundred-plus texts from your closest mates. you decide to start right from the beginning of the influx, thumb scrolling nonstop and eyes blurring from the rapid movement until they focus back on the screen where you stop, finally having reached the destination of the first text that set it all off. 

it was from none other than jude bellingham, and you were nearly embarrassed by the way your face instantly lit up upon reading his message. the groupchat’s golden boy had popped up after weeks of minimal contact, asking if he could take everyone for a night out tomorrow to make up for it, stating that he finally has some small gaps of free time between hectic pre-season schedules to allow him to do so.

it honestly warmed your heart that the first thing he wants away from football is to see you all. you’d been a band of good friends since the first year of secondary school, contact not necessarily strained as you all had a lot of love for each other but rather unspokenly reduced after leaving school two years ago and falling into busy university or career ventures.

instead of scrolling through to read and react to the plethora of follow-up texts after his, you ignore them and jump straight to typing your reply to his invitation, casting aside that nagging voice asking you: doesn’t that seem too desperate?

no, right? i’m just accepting his invitation, getting straight to the point, the convo ended half an hour ago anyway. you’re arguing with yourself now, feeling the need to give unnecessary excuses to nonexistent accusations. if you were to be honest with yourself, you were always self-conscious of the way you behaved around jude, even now debating on whether to add your signature heart emoji or if it’d come across as you trying too hard given your feelings for him; albeit them being feelings that no one knows about, not even him. you made sure for it to be that way.

with a mental note to get over yourself, you send an affirmative ‘i’m up for it!’, signature heart included, and quickly shut off your phone. heart beating so rapidly, you scolded yourself for getting so worked up over a mere reply and for definitely not getting over yourself. god knows how you’re going to handle seeing him in person. 

a sudden double buzz from your device does nothing to calm you down, instead dampening your hands with sweat when you grab it and see a pair of messages from him.

jude 🌟: heyy i’m so glad you can make it tomorrow :)

jude 🌟: can’t wait to see you!! ❤❤

he had messaged you separately for some reason and he had included two hearts… the overthinking starts for you again, without even beginning to think about what to reply this time, and you question why he couldn’t have just replied to you in the groupchat or why he couldn’t have just left the end of the messages with a ‘x’ like he usually does or why he would even say what he said in the last message. mind frantic and unable to clear itself, you thank yourself for having your read receipts turned off so you can have your mini meltdown without worrying about jude knowing you’d seen his messages multiple minutes ago. god, you were down so bad. 

you force yourself to open the messages app and send the most casual reply you can type.

you: can’t wait to see you too! ❤

you try to keep it short, sweet and nonchalant even if your fingers are itching to type more – more about how much you had missed him, more about what he was planning to wear tomorrow night so that maybe you could match your own outfit with him, more about your true, unfiltered feelings for him. it’s pathetic really; you hadn’t seen him in two years and the first thing you wanted to do was throw yourself at him, spilling all the secrets you’d been holding close for so many years. you leave it at that, put your phone on do not disturb mode and head on home, waiting for the long hours of friday evening to pass and saturday night to arrive.

***

and so saturday night rolls around and you just about finish touching up your makeup and smoothing out your dark blue dress before the doorbell rings, and you’re whisked away to the club by a couple of your girlfriends. 

as soon as you step your high heels into the building, you’re met with the sight of flowing booze and the noise of noughties r&b beats bouncing around the brightly lit walls. dragged by the hands of your friends, you find yourself standing next to a booth at the back of the club, the rest of the group now welcoming you latecomers with a loud cheer.

“finally, girls. you took your time!” one of your male friends remarks, ushering you all to sit down.

“oh god, what have we missed?” you beam, trying to scan the group amongst the strobing lights to catch a glimpse of the person you were really there for. 

“nah, you’re just in time because… first round’s on mister madrid!”

the callout breaks your friend group into a raucous holler as your gaze fixes onto the six foot-one footballer who stands up with an amused grin and a sigh of feigned defeat. your heart quickens and your smile turns into a state of near disbelief over how good jude looks right now – graphic white t-shirt hugging his biceps in all the right places and hanging over a pair of smart-casual black trousers.

“yeah, yeah, anything for my groupies,” he winks at no one in particular but your brain almost convinces you that he was looking at you while doing it. you send a shy smile his way just in case but what he says next has your mouth running dry. “help us out, will ya, y/n?”

you hesitate for a second too long for your liking, stumbling over your words while your friends peer at you. “uh… uh-huh, yeah, of course.” you answer as quick as you can, standing up on your feet slowly as to not trip over your now-shaking legs and send yourself flying into jude, and to avoid embarrassing yourself more than you think you already have.

he responds with a grateful smile and you follow him to the bar where he places an order for a round of drinks and some shots to be delivered to the group by the two of you. there’s an odd unfamiliarity to the silence between you both and you realise that you aren’t normally this quiet around jude, and neither is he around you; you would always joke that he’d be eligible to talk for england if he wasn’t already playing football for them. he’d retort with a comment about how his ears could almost fall off with the amount of chatting you do, and you’d dryly reply with a ‘well, they’re too big for your head anyway. look at the size of them!’ the pair of you were always as thick as thieves in the eyes of everyone else. which is why you didn’t expect it to be like this, especially after two years of not seeing each other – there was so much you wanted to catch up on from his world and so much you wanted to share from yours. you decidedly gain some courage and take the initiative to spark some conversation, get something going at least.

“soo, how have you been, then?” you’re both facing the bar, your head barely tilting in jude’s direction to indicate that yes, it is him that you’re talking to and not some random like he assumes you are with the way you’re positioned away from him, eyes just about turning to steal a glance of his figure but not to hold eye contact. “how’s la vida española?”

jude finds amusement in your sudden flaunt of the spanish language, a smile breaking out on his face, unseen to you since he’s still facing the same direction that you are, preoccupying his eyes with the myriad of bottles on the shelves while his mind searches for an apt reply.

“yeah, it’s been great, i think i wanna stay there forever,” jude laughs, his fingers tapping on the black surface of the bar. you can’t help the selfish feeling of your heart dropping at his confession. “i miss you, though, y’know… a lot.” 

this one confession forces your whole body to turn itself towards him, eyes now chasing after his to seek some form of sincerity, to see if he was just messing about or if he really meant what he just said. he shifts his head to face you now, a bashful look painted onto his features. the expectant silence says it all really; of course i mean it. 

you gulp and decide to break the quietness with a sarcastic, jesting “ugh…”, jude’s face dropping at what he thinks is genuine disgust from you. you realise your attempt to denounce the awkwardness has backfired.

“oh my god, you dickhead, i’m joking,” how is it that mere moments ago you were shaking at the sheer real-life presence of him but now you’d transformed into having this confident playfulness? and all of it without a drop of alcohol in your system as well – you’re quietly proud of yourself. “i missed you too, jude… a lot.” you coyly repeat his words. 

upon your turn of the confession, the bartender sets down your drink orders and the two of you wordlessly carry the trays over to where your friends are situated, the silence way more comfortable now that you’re both basking in assurance, unbeknown to the other that your hearts were racing at a hundred miles per hour.

***

not even two hours and an innumerable amount of shots later, you’re all a drunken mess; definitely not a surprise to a single one of you. what is a surprise is the way you’re strewn across jude, right leg wrapped around his left, head on his chest, swirling and sipping from what’s clearly an empty glass to any sober, sane person. you grumble and mutter a complaint about the lack of liquor in the booth, taking it upon yourself to head to the bar and order another round for everyone.

“i’ll come with you,” jude announces over the pounding of the music, standing up so quickly that his next five steps are staggered and he has to cling onto your arm to steady himself. “i’m fine, i’m okay.” he assures nobody that asked.

the two of you stumble your way into the path of the bar, determined to drink until the sun comes up and forget every strand of stress until the hangovers come knocking. jude’s soft grip on your arm has you being led in the opposite direction all of a sudden, though. 

“uhm, where are we going?” you question, head still turned to where the bar is located, about to ask him if he was so hammered he couldn’t walk in a simple straight line to get to where you’d planned to go. “jude?”

he’s silent, save for humming his way to his desired destination, and you question if he even knows where he’s leading you. before you make the choice of going along with him or leaving his clearly confused self to go cop your next cocktail, you find yourself in the disabled toilets, pushed up against the sink with the door not even shut properly, gasping at how rough jude is handling your body compared to his soft touches from before, and how close his face is to yours, warm breath fanning the skin of your lips. you weren’t strictly against it all but how the hell have you ended up like this? The alcohol and the questions come at you fast, dizzying your brain but you can’t help but feel so keenly anticipative.

“i’m sorry, i just…” he pulls away from you, eyes fluttering closed so he can re-evaluate his actions, exhaling through his nose as if he was letting go of all doubts before continuing. “am i okay to do this?” he places his hands on your waist, pushing himself back into your space, his full lips more or less about to take yours. you have to refrain from letting the effects of alcohol take over your tongue and uttering back with a breathy ‘you can do whatever you want to me’.

instead, you answer with an earnest, eager nod, inviting his lips to finally do that one thing you had been dreaming of for so long, to kiss yours so silly that they’re left with the imprint of him. and jude does just that.

his mouth takes in yours so determinedly, shyness and hesitation now long-dissolved feelings for you both as your hands find home around the back of his neck, pushing his head further onto you, feeling the need to taste him more and more until you’re both consumed by each other. 

it’s a messy makeout, noses bumping and teeth clashing, but it’s oh so hot, the way he gasps into your mouth from breathlessness and pleasure, running and gripping his large hands over the material adorning your waist and hips as the need to rip it off you nearly overtakes him. to you, he’s so utterly intoxicating that a gallon of alcohol would pale in comparison to how dizzy his skin on yours makes you feel. 

you release a moan at the meagre thought of jude all over your body, and he takes the opportunity to slip his tongue over yours, filthy noises of wetness and carnality from the both of you reaching high pitch as jude somehow simultaneously pushes you against the sink and pulls you against his chest, his manhandling of you getting you even more hot and bothered before you’re both interrupted by the hub of people passing by and huddling right outside the bathroom, their self-occupied shouts and cheers dragging you out of the bubble that the two of you had wrapped yourselves in, almost sobering you up on the spot.

you push jude out of your way, gentle but abrupt, and give him a look of apologetic regret. “i-i’m sorry,” you say, jitterily walking past him and exiting the room without a second glance or word, heading straight to the booth where your friends are hollering and hurraying, occupied with shot-drinking contests. 

your girlfriends offer to go home with you when you lie and tell them you’re not feeling very well, but you decline them, instead telling them to have fun on your behalf and letting them know that you’ll try to text them once you get home safely. you can tell they’re confused by your shaken state and the absence of jude but you grab your bag and make your exit before the interrogation can even begin to brew.

you manage to grab a taxi back home, surprised by how competent you are despite the alcohol in your bloodstream and confusion in your brain. on the way there, you can’t stop the bouncing of your knee nor the racing of your psyche, asking yourself how and why whatever went down with jude went down like that. you curse at yourself for being so impulsive in starting and finishing the whole ordeal with him in the way that you did – you don’t know if it’s the empty, depressive drunk thoughts or just clarity from the whole jude thing that makes you feel like there’s no coming back from this at all. you feel like crawling into your bed and never coming out from it ever again. 

the taxi driver has to call for your attention multiple times until you reach earth again and pay him the journey’s fee. you go skulking all the way up to your front door, only letting out a breath that you feel like you’ve been holding since the beginning of the night once the door shuts behind you.

the rest of the night is quiet and orderly for you, telling yourself to not invite any more chaos into your brain and to simply drink some water and to go to sleep. waking up tomorrow morning is going to be painful in more ways than one.

***

you spend the rest of the weekend nursing a ferocious hangover and a frazzled heart, only contacting your friends to tell them that you got home fine and to joke that you probably need a century or two for this hangover to be gone. you thank the high heavens that they don't bring up the topic of you and jude 

you try not to think too much about jude, you really do, but sunday night has a couple of taps landing you on the instagram app and you learn that he’s already back in spain, pictures of him in training sliding across your phone screen on his story along with selfies with his teammates. usually, you tap that small red heart at the bottom and hope that he sees it amongst his millions and millions of notifications, a tiny ritual of yours that now has you feeling so pathetic that you don’t dare to do it anymore.

running a hand over your weary face, you set your phone down and opt to nap the night away, finding comfort in the non-intrusion from your friends and the no contact from jude, hoping to keep yourself busy and distracted with whatever the work week brings.

a ring from the doorbell rips through your flat just as you’re organising your pillows, forcing you to stop what you’re doing and ponder who could be at the door on a sunday while the clock ticks some minutes past one o’clock. you don’t recollect ordering any food nor are you expecting a delivery, especially not this late. 

trudging your way to the front door, you open it to find jude bellingham standing there and you feel an instant pang of regret, wishing you had peeked through the window to see who it could be, wishing you had pretended to not be in, wishing the ground would open up right now and swallow you whole  – anything to escape the confrontation that you’re now having to face. your face heats up with embarrassment and nerves but you manage to rupture the silence before your mouth can turn dry. 

“j-jude, hi,” you try and keep your greeting as polite and cordial as you can, even when all you really want to do is to chase him off your doorstep. “what are you doing here?”

your query has jude visibly gulping, hands fiddling with each other as he attempts to hold eye contact with you, his vision a bit blurry from exhaustion. “y/n… sorry, can i come in?”

you oblige, holding the door open wide before you guide him to the living room and invite him to sit down on the plushness of your sofa, settling yourself on the opposite end of it. you silently prompt him to say what he came here to say with a nod of your head. 

“uhm, i’m sorry for turning up unannounced, and so late…” ever the courteous. “i had to sneak away from the lads and catch the last flight to here so it was all a bit down to the wire.” he lets out a small, uneasy laugh.

you cut off his rambling with a curt “what do you want, jude?” you don’t mean for it to sound so rude but you still hold the attitude of wanting to get this over and done with, already feeling annoyance at yourself for even letting him into your home. 

“right, yeah, i actually wanted to talk about what happened on saturday,” he goes back to fiddling with this thumbs, eyebrows furrowed but he avoids looking at you this time. not that you can blame him because your own vision shifts to anywhere but his direction. “i’m so sorry for making you uncomfortable a-and please tell me if this is inappropriate, but i haven’t stopped thinking about last night, i haven't stopped thinking about you, i-i’m sorry, i know this is all so silly and you probably don’t even feel the same bu-”

you stop him right there, this time with good reason as you can’t bear holding back your real emotions, not when he’s practically given you the green light to spill the contents of your heart.

“no, jude, i didn’t feel uncomfortable at all,” you assure him, gaze now on the footballer in front of you and you almost can’t believe the words leaving your mouth right now. “i wanted it to happen, i’m glad it happened, you know, i think i’ve had dreams about it happening,” you try and offset any tension with a timid chuckle before turning quite pensive. “i really like you, jude, i have for a long time… god, sorry, this is so embarrassing.” you return to making light of the situation you’ve put yourself in, the timidness sinking back in as quick as the relief lifts you up. 

jude moves closer to your now-cowering body, knees touching as your heartbeat surges with worry and self-consciousness all wrapped up into a tight, miserable ball. he puts his sweat-dampened hands into yours and squeezes in silent assurance before raising them up to his lips and laying a chaste kiss on the heated skin.

he can’t help but break out into a sweet smile, eyes threatening to crinkle at the edges. your face is still sketched with tension and now confusion has joined the mix.

“i can’t tell you how long i’ve waited to hear that from you, how much i needed to hear it,” your eyes meet his, widening in surprise a little. “i’m a fool for not telling you sooner… i like you, y/n, i really like you.” he repeats your own words back at you, leaning in with a smattering of amusement dancing in his vision. 

“can i kiss you?” the question leaves your lips faster than you can even process it in your brain.

jude wastes no time in replying with a firm pressing of his mouth on yours, deepening it within seconds, the need to cement his feelings for you being told through the way he cradles your head in his hand, leaning you back onto the arm of the sofa to further intensify the kiss. your lips move along with his, the soft weight of his body pressed against yours making you whine into his mouth in ecstasy.

he lifts off of you with a puckering of his swollen lips, the both of you taking the chance to draw in some air and attempt to regulate your breathing pattern.

“please take me to the bedroom,” you beg, breathless from the sheer sight of his dark eyes and pretty pout. there’s no fight nor denial from jude as he picks you up and prompts you to wrap your legs around his waist, quickening his pace once you point in the direction of your room.

he lays you down on the bed so gently, lips latching onto yours once again before they travel down your jaw and over the warm skin of your neck. the light touch of his fluttering eyelashes married with the pressure of his soft lips has your head spinning, hands tentatively laid on top of your sheets since you don’t trust yourself to not grab his head and bring it back to your lips. his fingers tinker with the waistband of your pyjama trousers, stretching it off your skin before he asks permission to peel them down your legs. 

once they’re cast away in some corner of your bedroom, jude divides your legs by the underside of your knees, tucking himself into the now available space between them, turning onto his side and resting on his left forearm. he leaves a small kiss over your covered cunt and you try your best to not just clamp his head in between your thighs and smother him with your growing wetness here and now. 

“need to get you ready, baby,” the sudden mention of the petname has you throbbing, squirming even more when he traces a line from your clit down to where there’s a small damp spot forming on the dark material of your underwear.

“jude, please,” you whine out, lifting your hips in a desperate bid to get the boy to strip your lower half completely. 

he shushes you in his own charming way, making sure to comply with your demand by getting up onto his knees and discarding your soaked panties in a matter of seconds, the cold air generated by his large hands whipping them off you hits your exposed pussy, making you hiss through gritted teeth.

jude returns to the gap between your spread legs, sitting back but still on his knees, his higher position causing you to shift onto resting your body weight on the palms of your hands in order to peer at his actions – which start with him re-tracing that same teasing line from your aching clit to your hole with his thumb, the feeling now so intense on your unclothed skin. he hums in what sounds to be satisfaction when you throw your head back in pleasure, taking it in his favour to slip his index finger into the tightness of your pussy. 

you release a guttural groan at the feeling of finally having some part of him inside you; you of course don’t want this to be the only part but you’re still so very grateful, so fucking grateful he’s now rubbing at your clit in delicious rounds, thumb tracing circle after circle while his fingers form a pair, pistoning in and out of you so easily due to the way your cunt douses itself with every move of jude’s. 

“fuck, baby,” jude moans at the sight of his soaked digits every time they barely pull out of that pretty pussy, his thumb torturing your sensitive bud increasingly so, the cries and whimpers spilling from your lips an incentive for him. “feel so good and tight around my fingers, can’t imagine how you’ll feel around my dick.” 

his words have you absolutely reeling, writhing against his hand to try and chase that moment of release. 

“please, jude, i’m so close,” you’re warning and demanding at the same time, almost begging him to not stop or even think about moving his fingers out of you. “god, please, i need it,” 

jude suddenly retracts both of his hands, leaving you bare and empty. “no way, baby, need to have you cumming on my cock or not cumming at all,” he comments with a shake of his head, denying you the opportunity of leaking your cum over his hand. upon seeing your bewildered face, he makes up for it by putting on a show of licking your juices clean off his fingers, the digits popped inside his mouth and dragged right back out with a low moan, him praising the way you taste. 

“move up the bed for me, angel,” he orders, watching you while he stands up and unclothes himself as quick as he can. you scoot backwards, legs still spread open like they’ve been locked in that position, before pulling your oversized t-shirt off of you, chest void of a restricting bra . “good girl,” he praises, crawling up to hover his body over your laying one, cock in hand as your legs come to wrap around him. “are you still okay with this? we can stop at any point, okay?”

the sincerity of his voice has you melting. some would remark that the bar is in hell for you but the truth is that you hadn’t been with anyone like this for more months than you could count on your hands. you've been touch-starved and lacking words of affirmation for so long, and you needed something to be only about you for once. 

“i’m more than okay with this,” you smile up at him, nodding to make your approval fully known. “and yes, i know i can stop you if i need to.”

jude reciprocates the same smile before leaning in and smothering your lips with his, pushing his cock into your tight wetness, so tight that your pussy almost pushes him back out, not used to being penetrated by something so thick.

“oh my god!” the feeling of tightness/fullness has you both gasping out the same thing at the same time, erupting into quiet giggles when the two of you realise your matching reactions. 

jude’s mouth finds its way back home in the embrace of your lips and you swear this is heaven, the way his cock slides in and out of your sopping cunt, set at such a perfect pace, the slight friction causing you to grow even wetter – the filth of it all contrasts so well with the sweetness of his muffled moans and tender kisses on your neck, moving down onto your collarbones and tits.

a particularly harsh thrust of his cock has your back arching, chest pushed up to his heated face, and he takes this golden opportunity to wrap his lips around your erect nipple, spending a good while sucking and tugging on the skin around it. you’re amazed at how his cock doesn’t relent inside you, the speed still so quick and consistent even when he’s so occupied in painting splotches on your tits with his mouth.

“there,” he pants out, pulling his head back and marvelling at his own creation. “now, there’s no doubt that you’re really mine.” the smile he gives you is a killer.

you whine at his declaration of you belonging to him, scratching at his shoulders and calling out his name to indicate that it’s all too much for you, that you’re so, so close to cumming on his cock and really giving him what he wants rather than pleasing yourself. you figure that’s you gone now; you’re more willing to put the boy above your own needs because you’re down that fucking bad for him.

“fuck, jude, i’m gonna cum!” you sob, your moans becoming more frequent and higher pitched, legs starting to shake from the intoxicating mix of exhaustion and delight. you’re frantically chanting “please, please, please” into his mouth which parts to swallow your whimpering, wet lips kissing your trembling ones. 

“go on, baby, cum for me, cum all over this cock,” he groans out, eyes squeezing shut when the feeling of your pussy clamping down tightly on his thickness proves too much to handle, face finding refuge in the crook of your neck. he knows you don’t need his permission, he would’ve let you orgasm as many times as you wanted to, would’ve let you use him like your own personal sex toy, but the words were only there to keep you going when his hips felt like faltering – he needed you cumming on his cock like he promised before, and he wasn’t about to fuck it up himself.

a final scream rips from your throat as you cum hard around jude, pussy clenching and pulsating around his cock so sporadically you thought you were having two orgasms at once. jude can’t handle it anymore, pulling out with a myriad of moans as he pumps his shaft with a hand, decorating the expanse of your lower abdomen with warm, white liquid. you’re still squirming, slowly trying to wheeze out the remaining whimpers from your lungs which you’re finding hard to do with the way jude pants and moans above you, the boy so spent he can’t help but breathe like he hasn’t had access to air for the past hour.  

he flops down by your side, arms and legs sprawled like a starfish, chest rising and falling as he attempts to recuperate from the mindblowing sex you two just had. the image is so unserious that you can’t stifle your giggles but you decide to take another step of courage to lay on your side resting your head on his shoulder, fingers stroking his abs and playing with the curly hairs of his happy trail. 

the room is quiet now with the scent of sex wafting through your nostrils on occasion but it’s the most comfortable silence you’ve experienced with jude, the feeling of his hot skin on yours so soothing to you.

after a period of panting, jude clears his throat and your ears prick up at the presence of sound. he turns his head towards you and you lift yourself up and off him out of instinct – you want full attention on him.

“i don’t want this to be a one-time kinda thing, y’know,” he proclaims, biting his lip from saying too much in one go.

“what, is this your way of saying you want round two already?” you joke, nose crinkling at the way he rolls his eyes playfully.

“shut up,” he delivers a poke to your side. “i mean, well, i don’t want either one of us to see this as a spur-of-the-moment thing, i just…” you look at him expectantly, silently telling him to continue. “i want you to be my girlfriend, y/n.” 

you’re nearly knocked back by his words, wondering if they’re real or if you’re simply just hearing things. you thought dialogue like that, coming from him, was only reserved for your imagination, kept secret and only spoken to you in late-night mental scenarios that would comfort you on your way to slumberland.

you let out a laugh that’s an odd mix of relief and disbelief, quickly replying “yes, yes, of course” to his awaiting face, which releases a look of relief itself before jude captures your lips with such passion you’re both knocked back onto the plush pillows, giggling into each other’s mouths until your hands find themselves running down the defined muscles of his abdomen and over his hardening cock.

[hungharrington]

i’m almost 22 and have never even kissed a boy (which i’m chronically insecure about). it’s made me feel very nervous regarding intimacy or “doing it wrong”. i feel like steve would be great coach and reassure the reader it’s okay and that they’re doing great. nothing to embarrassed about. (my soul needs this so bad)

hi honey !! i think you r so right & steve would be the perfect guy to give all the assurances <3 i hope u know that kisses don’t matter too much til they’re with someone you’re rlly sweet on so i wouldn’t sweat it angel x this one is sfw! wowzer!

You’re on your couch and in Steve’s lap and worried about just about everything. 

Steve’s being sweet about it, his hands resting gently on either side of your waist, his thumbs swiping up and down to comfort you. He’s watching you closely, unaware he’s just taken your first, second, and third ever kisses. How could he know? you think, on the side of insecurity— it seems everybody else your age has already kissed someone. 

“You okay?” He asks, hazel eyes tracing over the soft features of your face. He loves your nose and the shape of your bottom lip— strange things to like perhaps, but Steve doesn’t care. 

You nod but don’t say anything. The motion is a bit jerky. Your hands are planted on his shoulders, holding them probably a bit too tight. Exhaling a breath, you nod again and pretend the fondness in his gaze isn’t making you shy.

“Yeah,” you finally speak, voice smaller than you intend. “Just- just wanna like—“ you swallow, eyes darting to the ceiling for a moment, if only to avoid his intense eyes. “I wanna get this right.” 

A car engine drones by outside in the dusky evening. Steve gives a little chuckle and his hands on your waist tug forward, pulling your attention down and your body an inch closer to his. It’s warm— every part of him is glowing warm. 

“I don’t think there’s any way you can get this wrong,” He admits, awfully sincere about it. 

It’s the truth. Steve likes you a lot. You could probably bite his lip too hard and make it bleed and he’d still find it pleasant. You have that effect on him. 

You don’t know that though. So, every stress seems very, very real. Are you kissing firm enough? Too firm? God, are your lips too dry? 

Your tongue flicks out to wet them, your hands giving his shoulders a nervous, minuscule squeeze. In your chest, your heart is torn between rabbiting in its anxiety or shrivelling in insecurity. 

“I mean,” you laugh a little, if only to cover your embarrassment. You duck your head to avoid his face, murmuring, “If there is, I’m sure I’ll find it. I haven’t, uh, exactly done this… too much.”

“That’s fine,” Steve says instantly. His warm, large hands give a tender squish on your waist, before sliding up and around to curl snugly around your body. He sits up a little straighter, his nose nudging against yours. 

“No, Steve,” you say, cheeks a touch heated. You count his eyelashes so you can avoid his eyes, you voice dropping volume towards the end of your sentence. “I mean, like… like ever.” 

Surprise flashes in his eyes for only a moment. His gaze darts down to your lips quickly but then he’s smiling, nudging closer, and stealing a quick kiss off your lips. Now he’s taken your fourth kiss too. 

You flush, something warm pinging its way up your spine. 

“That’s okay,” He murmurs, sounding like he really means it. 

“It is?” 

“It’s great. You’re great.” He kisses you again—your fifth— so sweet it tastes like sugar on your lips, his arms around you pulling you in closer. You drown in it, enamoured by how it feels to have his lips against yours. God, he makes you dizzy. 

Steve breaks the kiss but stays close, his arms pulling you closer still so you’re straddling him properly. He’s warm, so warm— and so freakin’ nice to you. 

“You don’t find it weird?” You can’t help but whisper. Your eyes crush closed, unable to face him. 

“Weird?” Steve echoes. “Are you kidding me? It’ll take more than that to freak me out.” 

One of his hands shifts up, moving up off your waist to cradle your jaw gently in his large palm. He peppers a string of kisses along your cheek and jaw, beginning to suck a sweet spot beneath your ear. Your hips shift before you realising, subtly grinding down into his. Flames begin to burn in your stomach. 

“It’s—I mean it’s kind of, like, a little embarrassing, don’t you think?” You continue, voice a little breathier than before. You’re not sure what you’re trying to convince of him of— you certainly don’t want him to stop. 

Steve’s lips brush over the barely forming bruise on your skin and your breath hitches. 

“Are you feeling embarrassed?” 

One slow kiss against your neck, his plush lips accompanied by the heat of his tongue. You squirm in his lap but don’t answer, fearful of being too truthful. You are and you aren’t. He isn’t making you embarrassed but you are, just a little. 

Your silence makes Steve pause, digging his face out of your neck to meet your eyes. “Hey. You shouldn’t be embarrassed- if you are for some other reason, we can— we can like stop—“ 

“No.” You cut in, God, now you’re seriously giving him the wrong idea. “No, oh my god, I sound so stupid- it’s not you— Steve—“ 

He cuts you off with another kiss, your sixth, and steals your runaway thoughts. It blissfully chases away your nerves for just a moment. 

“Great.” He smiles against your mouth, giving another squeeze of your waist. “Cos you don’t need to be.” He kisses your mouth again, seven. “All you need to be is enjoying yourself, okay? 

You like the sound of that— adore the way he’s so seamlessly finds the thing that sets your nerves alight and soothes it so easily. You whisper back, “Okay,” and gift him your eighth kiss, sweet and fierce. 

[myokk]

my first attempt at digital art (never again🥲) for mctober💘

Eloise Babbit✨

slytherin

5th year

favorite subjects: arithmancy & ancient runes

least favorite subject: beasts (animals make her nervous🥲)

hobbies: reading & thinking (IT’S A HOBBY OKAY??)

[sangytual]

SEVENTEEN — ; [Semicolon] Official Photos ↳ for @wonboos 🎁 from your 🤫🎅

[katsu2ji]

hanta sero w/ pop princess gf!

a/n: you will have to pry sabrina carpenter's short n sweet album from my cold, dead hands and this is the result of that

YOUR BIGGEST FAN

if anyone tells you otherwise, they're lying to you because this man right here? oh you have him down BADDD

he's there at every single concert, whether it be front row or back stage

wears his "i <3 my gf" shirt with PRIDE!!

you wink at him in the crowd and he's giggling and kicking his feet falling to his knees JAKJBABJ

literally brags to all of your guys’ friends that he heard your album and songs first

SOOO many photos of you guys (mainly him, let’s be fr) looking at each other with lovesick expressions

especially on the red carpet—ohmygod you have this man wrapped around your finger it's insane (PLEASE someone tell me they see what i did there—)

speaking of such events!!!

you guys EAT UP the red carpet. every. time.

cause my god does that man look good in a suit.

and your outfits are ALWAYS on point omg!!!

literally you guys are trending on twitter after every single event because y'all are HOT HOT HOT

your hype man while you record!!! at first he was super nervous to be in there, because he didn't want to make you mess up or do something wrong

but now if he's free on the days you go into the studio TRUST he will be there!!!

jokes around that you should let him have adlibs or do backup vocals LMFAO (he's not expecting you to say yes...unless u wanna say yes...)

but in all seriousness: he might know nothing about music, but it's good to have him around when you get frustrated or upset while recording. he helps to remind you that things don't have to be so serious and, at the end of the day, it will come together!!!

now, when you post pictures of yourself, whether they be from official shoots or pics you took yourself, that man is a FIEND.

all up in your comments like "AWOOGA" and "u got a bf??" and "HOTTT" LMFAO HES A MESS

i'm talking comment spamming, story reposts, the whole nine yards

does not gaf if people see him drooling over you!!!! he proudly let's everyone see how obsessed with u he is HE DOES NOT GAF!!!!

he has perfected taking ur pics—he knows all the angles you like, the lighting, everything

he's on the ground fully laying down just to make sure he's getting the perfect angle for you JKASKDFJ

tbh y'all are just the cutest couple ever <33 everyone is either obsessed with you guys or they're mad cause they aren't LOL LOSERS!!!!

katsu2ji © 2024. please don't copy, modify, or do anything of the sort with my work! i work very hard and you simply do not have my permission.

[an-actual-floof]

haven’t drawn in a while but thought about Spock and the tos boots and came up with something gay enough to post

[velvetterabby]

Happy nonbinary pride from Hatsune Miku 💛🤍💜🖤

[catboydreamer]

author notes: I am a scara awkward at romance type of person

okay so he wouldn’t be discreet at all 

though he would definitely try to hide because it’s embarrassing 

like he had gone to the shop and bought you flowers and chocolate. 

mind you, he spent an agonizing amount of time in the valentine aisle trying to figure out what the fuck to get you. 

and of course, he starts sweating and losing his mind, swearing up a storm in the store. it’s fine, it’s fine.

he eventually settles on something but cannot help chewing his lip raw as he waits to check out his items. genuinely, he’s losing his shit and wants to bolt from the store and go back home.

only thing that stops him is the potiental of seeing your face fall and the avoidant gaze you’d give him.

because he knows you won’t directly tell him how you feel about such a thing. 

you weren’t supposed to be home yet. he had prepared for you to be at work for another two hours. two hours he needed to prepare for Valentine’s Day. 

he tries to hide the items behind his back but a tint of red peaks out.

your gaze locks onto it, but with a smile you turn on your heel and walk away. 

“I need to pick up a few things from the store.” it was only a half lie. 

as soon as you get out of the house you can’t the goofy smile that breaks across your face. 

he’s trying. for you.

when you waltz in there’s a scene you can’t quite seem to forget. a small, old candle set as a centerpiece on the table. in front of it lies a bouquet of followers, laid to the side. then, on the right, a heart shaped box of what you hope is chocolates. the icing on the cake? a folded up piece of paper.

you take the paper into your hands, carefully unfolding the contents until you can take it in. 

in the back of your mind , you wondered where he was but most thoughts vanished as you read the words. 

im not a big fan of holidays and suck at this ‘romance’ shit. still, I wanted to try , knowing how much it means to you. just know that I love you, and can’t wait to spend more time with you.

there’s a huge grin on your face by the end of it. 

fortunately you look up to see Scaramouche, face fully tinting redder by the minute. 

your favorite part is his ears but unfortunately they are quite hidden by his messy hair today. 

you make a small gesture with your hand that’s in your own special language for ‘come here’.

he instantly obliged and sinks into your embrace. 

you feel his shaky breath against your neck. it’s almost nice.

your arms wrap around his shoulders, as you push him as close to you as you can.

“I’m really happy. I love it so much.”

There’s a definite long stretch of silence before he whispers, “im glad.”

[mcdonaldsnumberone]

LUCKITTY-CAT!

❤︎ a multistep guide for adisorn to help you a new cat adjust to their new lifestyle. ❤︎ adisorn moore x gn reader ❤︎ wc: 2k ❤︎ content warning(s): yandere, kidnapping, one (1) mention of blood, petplay (not in the sexual sense)/adisorn treats you like a cat, written before full game release/based on adisorn as portrayed in the free demo ❤︎ adisorn moore is from the game online obsession being developed by sourmiiiilk

Prepare space for the cat beforehand.

This was arguably the easiest step for Adisorn Moore. Thanks to the excuse that he was moving in, no one batted an eye about him buying all sorts of locks, security measures, and a truckload of otherwise pretty suspicious material. He did have to do a couple laps around his new place to decide which of the rooms was best to keep you in.

His bedroom was tempting, but he doubted that he could get much done if he had to potentially fight you each time he wanted to sleep or get a change of clothes. However, he did like the idea of being able to eventually get you into his bedroom, to spend time closer to you and with you. Maybe if you settled in nicely enough, he could use the idea of his warm bed as a potential reward for your good behavior.

The bathroom would be a good choice to ensure that exits and entryways were tightly secured, but he also didn’t want to have to give up the comfort of his bathroom just yet. Besides, the bathroom offered just too many outlets for you to make drastic choices, and he didn’t want you thinking you could take the easy way out after all the hard work he’s put in.

The kitchen was easy to eliminate, so that left Adisorn with his guest bedroom. He didn’t have to do much to prepare the room. A few contractors and a bit of money was all it took to eliminate the single glass window, and a few YouTube tutorials gave him good insight into how to replace the locks on the door. All he had left was to set up some cameras and keep the room’s furnishings to a minimum, and he had the perfect set up for a new cat to pick up.

He doesn’t like that the room looks so barren. It’s the perfect antithesis to just how vibrant and rich you were as a person, but at the same time, Adisorn understands that sometimes he has to take the extremes in order to get what he wants.

He’s sure with time that you’ll come around to understand him.

You always have.

2. Provide enrichment for your cat. 

The first few weeks were the worst. If only you knew how much it broke Adisorn’s heart to have to wear you down like this. He never expected this whole ordeal to be easy, but knowing it and actually carrying the deed out were two completely different things.

You tried every trick in your book to win back your freedom. 

He stood on the other side of the door as you bargained with him. You begged, pleaded, cried, screamed, groveled until your voice went hoarse. Of course, your freedom wasn’t something he was willing to negotiate with you in the first place, but you were desperate. You needed to try everything you knew. Nothing was too sacred or too profane to yell out. Day in and day out, you’d hurl curses and praise at him, trying to find any weak point in his mind to wedge yourself into so that you could somehow do something. Anything. 

You offered up money. You swore that you would never tell the authorities if he just let you go. You threatened him, saying that it was just a matter of time before your family and friends would figure out you had gone missing and then everyone would be hot on his trail.

When that didn’t work, you turned to more physical methods. He could hear you grasping at the walls, slamming your fists against the concrete in hopes of finding a weak point that might let out just enough to let you escape. You’d scratch like a real cat at the door until you’d bleed, evident by the dried crimson droplets Adisorn would discover underneath the crack of your door. You’d fight him whenever he’d come around to let you wash up or to drop off food, biting and screaming and clawing and crying like a wounded animal at death’s doorstep not quite yet ready to have its life snuffed out entirely. 

It wasn’t worth trying to rationalize anything to you at this stage. He just had to wait it out. You were smart, and soon enough, you’d realize that there really was nothing you could do to help yourself. No one was coming to save you, you were too weak to find a way to break out or overpower Adisorn, and all you had left to depend on for your own well-being was him.

Sure, Adisorn was to be feared and hated, but the one thing worse than Adisorn right now was to not even have him at all. The dread would settle in with time, as long hours would net you nothing but a sense of hopelessness that you couldn’t quell on your own. 

And at that point, Adisorn was more than happy to welcome you with open arms and a faux apologetic smile.

After all, even seeing him for a little bit was a big upgrade than being left all alone in a starkly empty room with nothing but your panicked thoughts. 

3. Perform regular grooming and care.

It took him a while to trust you to be left to your own devices. Even with him breaking down your immediate walls, you still had enough fight left in you that he couldn’t fully let his guard down. You would turn anything—from an old toothbrush to a ragged comb—into an opportunity. 

Adisorn detested having to treat you like this. He fell for you because you were so capable and kind, so empathetic of everything he did, so the last thing he wanted to do was strip you down to nothing but a shell of yourself and have to take care of you like you were a doll. It wasn’t an easy line to balance by any means, but with enough trial and error, reward and punishment, he was able to drill some semblance of a routine into you.

You no longer tried to scratch his eyes out whenever he let you out to brush your teeth and wash your face. You no longer tried to twist the towels in the bathroom into something to strangle Adisorn with. You no longer tried to steal the parts of the toilet in hopes of using it as a weapon.

It was almost domestic after a while. You’d stand next to him, eyes bloodshot, and brush your teeth at the same time he did. He always made sure to pick out toothbrushes with your favorite colors, and Adisorn would even ask you every now and then if you wanted him to change the color. 

He did his best to let you out for hygiene at the same time every day, and as the weeks and months bled by, your expressions of rage, disbelief, and disdain quickly turned into that of anticipation and almost a kind of longing. 

Like you had missed his presence.

4. Allow for exploration and play.

How much time had passed since the fateful day that he had snatched you up all for himself? The numbers, the pain, the tears and struggle were nothing now that he had you where he wanted. He could vividly recall the excitement he had felt when he first moved in, scanning his entire apartment to decide where he wanted to keep you and just how good it would feel to slowly open you up to the other sectors of his abode.

And finally, that day came. 

He didn’t miss the way your eyes would widen when you first stepped into his spacious bedroom. Your gaze fell over all of his belongings: his closet filled with all kinds of clothes, a big bed with soft pillows and matching sheets, walls that weren’t a drab shade of soulsucking grey, and the occasional bit of StarBlitz merchandise. 

You must have missed having your own bedroom. Having your own things. Having your own normal life. 

“I figured you were getting lonely in the guest room. And, well, you really aren’t a guest in this house anymore,” Adisorn cracks a bad joke, in hopes of getting a reaction out of you. It’s really a 50-50 as to whether or not you’ll reply to him or treat him to a dose of cold silence, but it’s a gamble he’s willing to take each and every time. 

Your lips tremble as you take a shaky step forward. It reminds of a shy kitten wobbling on its unstable legs as it ventures out into the wide world. 

“It’s so big,” your voice is quiet and weak. Nothing like the strong, lively voice he had gotten used to before he had kidnapped you. “And… it smells like you. There’s so much here.”

“Consider it yours as much as it is mine, snowflake.” A strong hand comes down on your shoulder, pulling you in close to his side. “I’m letting you have this much because you’ve been so obedient lately.”

You look up at him. It’s true that over the long, long course of your imprisonment, Adisorn has taken painstaking measures to ensure that the fight in you has left. You don’t know whether to laugh or be grateful. Having him open his bedroom up to you feels like a mockery, like he’s showing off everything he’s stolen from you and expecting you to fall to his feet and treat him like some merciful god. But at the same time, you, of all people, aren’t in the place to argue. 

Not when you don’t even have any of this in your current room.

“...Thank you, Adi,” your lips move numbly, and the words tumble from your mouth like stones. They weigh against your conscience, as if the admittance of your gratitude was somehow a stain against your soul. “It’s wonderful.”

“You’ll be sharing with me, of course. But y’know, still better than nothing.” He gestures vaguely around the room with his hand. “Sharing a bed is better than sleeping on the cold floor. Getting to pick out your own clothes from my selection is better than you having to wear whatever I get you.”

He pauses, before he peers at you with fond eyes. It takes everything in you not to visibly shudder underneath his touch. It makes your skin crawl to think that at some point in your life you had been foolish enough to trust him, to hold affection for him, to consider him a friend. 

“And above all, you’ll have me to keep you company regularly. You won’t be so alone.”

When did this nightmare start? When had you turned into something so weak and pathetic? At what point had you grown too confident in yourself, to lose sight of the predator lurking at the edges, the lone hungry wolf licking its maw in anticipation for its next meal? 

And at what point did you learn to accept it? His fangs against your body, bleeding you dry of any will to retaliate, are just as sharp as ever, disguised under a screen of generosity in hopes that it could lure you into a sense of security. Maybe Adisorn was never the tough wolf you made him out to be. He never considered this sadistic farce to take place on equal grounds.

In his mind, you needed him. You couldn’t make it out there all on your own. You couldn’t take care of yourself, couldn’t understand the workings of the cruel world evolving around you. You needed someone to guide you in the right direction, to become the guardian angel you didn’t realize you needed, to love you in the way you had once loved him.

You needed him to take care of you. To scoop you up in his arms. To lavish his affection onto. You were never a capable, human counterpart in his eyes. Even from when you first laid eyes on him in your small town, he saw you for who you truly were. No better than a helpless, mewling kitten, calling out to him to be taken, to be loved. 

To be housebroken.

x