#i need to know every single second of his life and what he thinks

[cherriegyuu]

so high school | kmg | part 2

pairing: hockey player mingyu x f!reader  genre: smut (in later part), fluff, a bit of angst, bad attempt at comedy word count: 7.8k summary: when you’re suddenly thrown in Mingyu’s direction, you have no choice but to stay by his side, and maybe it’s not as bad as you think playlist: click here warnings: reader is mentioned to have long hair, mentions of food and alcohol please, remember to comment and reblog, it does mean the world to me and i would love to know your opnions.

< part one >

It had taken you almost two entire weeks to work up the courage to talk to Mingyu again. He had been nice enough not to contact you first. No texts, no calls, and the two times you had bumped into him on campus — aka seen him across the street — he had nodded in greeting, but made no attempt to get closer.

You hated it, admittedly, but you had missed his presence. The annoying texts at inappropriate times, the way he would wave his arm above his head every time he saw you, like he was a kid seeing a friend after a long vacation.

You had no idea how to talk to him. You couldn’t just say haha, I’m sorry I didn’t remember you, even though I saw you every day for two years, you know how it is, right? without sounding like a complete and utter lunatic. And you didn’t even need Jeonghan to pull out his school photo album, which he absolutely did, to rub in your face how completely forgetful you were. The moment Mingyu said the words “she doesn’t remember me”, laughing a little, a somewhat embarrassed by the situation, it was as if the movie of your adolescence suddenly flashed through your eyes.

Every time you had seen him leave the gym, following Jeonghan and Seungcheol closely. At first, he was quiet, just observing everything and later talking to your brother only, and then he was laughing and making jokes along with everyone else. He was obviously loved by his teammates. You remember finding him handsome back then when he was much younger and wore clothes chosen by his mother. You never talked, it’s true, you didn’t even know his name, but you always knew who he was.

How you went from that moment to years later not remembering him, you didn’t know. That was a big mystery, and you had no idea how to answer.

You saw Mingyu leaving the building next to a girl. He smiled and gestured as he talked, clearly excited about the subject at hand. The girl next to him smiled broadly, her body leaning closer to his, despite the clear space between the two of them. She looked at Mingyu as if he had nailed the stars to the sky, as if he was the only reason the sun shone every morning.

You thought about giving up. You were going to interrupt something and you didn't want that, didn't want to draw any kind of attention to yourself, anything more than necessary.

And then Mingyu looked straight ahead, right in your direction. You closed your eyes for a second, forcing yourself to do exactly what you had planned to do from the beginning. Slowly, you raised your right hand in front of your body, at the height of your stomach, and waved. It was a quick and shy movement that you almost didn't want to do.

The smile on Mingyu's face grew huge as if he had seen something that had truly made him happy. He held his arm over his head, swinging it from side to side like a child; you couldn't stop a small smile from spreading across your lips, no matter how hard you tried. 

Mingyu strode across the lawn, the girl he was talking to was left behind, forgotten, calling out his name loudly, but he didn't look back once. She glared at you and you knew, at that very moment, that if you didn't have a single enemy in your life, you had just made one. 

He stopped in front of you, arms crossed over his chest, a smile on his face. It took everything you had to do not to stare at his arms or to keep smiling. 

"Look, who's talking to me, in public" the teasing was clear in his voice. 

"Mingyu" his name came out of your mouth like a warning. 

Even though your tone didn't seem friendly, Mingyu smiled as if having heard a joke. It was almost a losing battle, not smiling while looking at him. You wondered exactly how things had changed, how one day you said "I don’t want to be seen with athletes in public places" to suddenly "talking to an athlete in public and still smiling".

“Sorry.” 

Although he was apologizing, you knew that there wasn’t a single bone, or cell, in Mingyu’s body that felt sorry while he was teasing you.

“I should be the one apologizing. I didn’t remember you.”

That’s why you had looked for him, why you had put all your pride aside and sent a message to Seokmin, asking — in the most delicate and unsuspicious way you could imagine — what Mingyu’s last class of the day was. When he seemed too excited about the whole situation, you didn’t even know that someone could be so excited through message, you were forced to ask him not to tell Mingyu that you had contacted him, because you still didn’t know if you would meet him because you had another appointment at almost the same time and might be late. It was a lie, there was nothing, but you didn’t know if you could trust Seokmin to simply not tell him. 

“It’s okay, I’m sure I don’t remember someone I’ve seen every day for years either.”

You smiled, unable to control it this time, and Mingyu smiled along with you as he took another step closer to you. You knew he was too close, rumors would start spreading around campus any second. You knew you should take a step back, and put more space between you two, you knew you should stop smiling like a teenager. But you just couldn’t force yourself to do anything but stand there. 

“You’re making me feel even worse.” 

“Seriously, it’s okay. I’m not going to use it to blackmail you or anything like that.” 

You wanted to ask him what he could blackmail you with, but that was too close to the line of flirting, and that was an imaginary line you refused to cross with him — even though most of the ones you had set had already been crossed, one by one. 

“Thank you,” was all you allowed yourself to say. 

He uncrossed his arms and shoved his hands in his pockets, rocking back on his heels. 

“Now that you know you’ve been unfair to me, for years I might add, and I’ve been benevolent enough to forgive your mistake, could you please stop making my life difficult and let me do the assignment with you, without me having to beg?” 

You threw your head back, laughing out loud. You wanted to tease him, tell him that he was already begging and pleading, but again, too close to flirting. 

“Benevolent? Ah, a man’s ego.” was all you allowed yourself to say as you rolled your eyes at him. 

Mingyu smiled, lightly bumping his shoulder against yours. 

“Come on, cut me some slack” 

You nodded in agreement, rolling your eyes again. 

“Let’s coordinate our free time and meet up again.” 

“Great.”

“A little green bird told me,” you rolled your eyes before Kira could even continue the sentence, “that you were caught with a certain hockey player.”

“Oh, for the love of God.”

Kira had hooked her arm through yours, her voice cheerful. If voices could have shape and were visible to the naked eye, Kira’s would definitely be bouncing around you. She was almost doing it herself.

You knew someone would have seen you talking, you knew someone saw it and wasn’t happy about it at all, you were sure it was only a matter of time until people were talking about it. You just didn’t think it would be so fast. It had barely been five minutes since you had said goodbye to Mingyu, you knew that that gossip was an inherent part of student life, but the quality and speed were impressive.

“Oh, come on! Tell me what you two talked about, I want to know everything, down to the smallest detail.”

Your friend’s voice was soft, almost like a child whining next to you. Kira knew how much you hated it, more than that, she knew that you would tell her everything, every word, just so that she would finally stop making that pitiful face and that shrilling and completely irritating voice.

“We talked about what I talked about with you,” you sighed, “I apologized for not remembering him, he was annoying and in the end we agreed that I wouldn’t stop him from doing the assignment with me.”

“The little green bird also told me that you were smiling and that you were even blushing while you were talking to him.”

You narrowed your eyes at her. It was true that you had smiled while you were talking to him, you had given up on playing tough. But you were sure that you hadn’t blushed or embarrassed.

“That little bird of yours is wrong. I smiled, yes, but the rest I didn’t do”

“So you didn’t make out in the middle of campus? You didn’t laugh out loud, the kind that makes you throw your head back and close your eyes?”

You simply stared at her, standing in the same place, refusing to move an inch. The student's gossip was fast, impressive, and deceitful.

“Some guy saw you guys and told everyone about it. I was walking by and heard it. They weren’t exactly talking quietly.”

You nodded and started to walk again. You didn’t have anywhere to go, but you didn’t want to stay either. Even if it wasn’t true, you felt like everyone was staring right at you, like you were a circus attraction in the center of the red and white tent.

“Nothing happened. We talked, I smiled, he said something funny and I laughed. That was it.”

It was a little strange that everyone was at your house at the same time. By everyone, you mean Mingyu and Seokmin, who were there to continue the project, and Jeonghan and Seungcheol, the first because it was his house and the second for god knows what — your best bet was that he had come there to see Mingyu, but he could also simply have wanted to see you embarrassed, it was almost like it was his and Jeonghan's favorite pastime.

You hadn't bothered to tell Jeonghan that the two of them were going home with you after class, you were sure that if you had told him and asked him not to be there, he would simply ignore your request. Besides, the rabbit was out of the hat already, there was nothing left to hide. Seungcheol being there was a surprise, but Mingyu knew him too and you figured he had told Seokmin everything.

Seokmin's behavior was surprising. He had greeted Jeonghan and Seungcheol when he came in, chatted with them for a bit, and then sat down at the table with you. You couldn’t help but wonder if Mingyu had scolded him and just how harsh he had been — though you didn’t think Mingyu and harsh were words that went together.

“Sorry about the other day,” Seokmin said. “I was just surprised.”

You shook your head. You had thought a lot about that day, about how you would have reacted in a very similar way if you had run into someone you were a fan of like that, at someone’s house from college. You had been taken by surprise, and that was one of the things you hated the most. You liked to have everything under control, to have all the cards in your hands, to know all the information before actually getting into a situation. You had made a bet by taking Mingyu and Seokmin home, and you lost. That had nothing to do with Seokmin.

“If I were his fan, I would have reacted the same way,” you assured him, not liking that he had become so quiet and introverted. “And look, they love the attention, so you can go as crazy as you want, you have my approval. And if they complain, you can talk to me.”

Seokmin laughed and turned his attention back to the book open in front of him, reading carefully and taking notes in the notebook next to it.

It wasn’t long before Mingyu entered the room too, still laughing a little at whatever he had talked to Jeonghan and Seungcheol about. He seemed distracted as he sat down and took his cell phone out of his pocket, placing it on the table, face down after checking the notifications.

It was impossible not to think about the conversation you had with Kira days ago, the fact that suddenly the entire college believed that you had hooked up because you had only talked for a few minutes. Could it have been gossip that had spread uncontrollably and thus taken on traits that had nothing to do with reality, or had Mingyu, in all his stereotype of dumb athlete and famous for being a womanizer, spread lies around, bragging about something that hadn't happened?

You hoped it wasn't the second option, not when hating someone for simply existing was just so much work, not when you had started to think he was a cool guy, not when every time you got a message from him you felt like an excited teenager seeing signs where there was supposed to be only a black screen.

"There's something I want to know," the voice came from the living room, distant at first, but getting closer with each syllable.

You were sure that this sudden approach from Seungcheol couldn't bring anything good. Especially when he had a cocky smile on his lips, the kind that you knew, just by looking at him, that he was not going to do anything worth of noticing and at any second someone was going to be embarrassed. And, in this case, you were sure that someone would be you.

Jeonghan was right behind him, his eyes showing that he didn’t know what it was about, but seemingly enjoying the whole situation.

“Seungcheol,” his name came out of your lips in a mix of warning and plea.

“When we were in school, you,” he stopped behind Mingyu, his hands on the younger’s shoulders as he leaned forward, “had the biggest crush on our dear youngest Yoon”

You closed your eyes and wished that someone, anything, would hit Seungcheol in the head with all its strength, to the point he would faint and no longer be able to open his mouth to say a bunch of nonsense.

You turned to Jeonghan, who seemed confused by the whole situation — having been completely taken by surprise by Seungcheol's revelations. His eyes went from you, to Mingyu, to Seungcheol, and back to Mingyu.

Mingyu was pale as if he had just seen a ghost, his eyes wide and his hands frozen in front of his body. The pen that was spinning between his fingers had rolled across the table and stopped in front of Seokmin, who was looking at the situation in complete shock.

“Do you still have a crush on her or is that a thing of the past?”

“Oh for the love of god, Seungcheol, shut up.”

Even Jeonghan, who loved a joke, a tease to the very last second, was uncomfortable with the situation. He didn't know where to put his hands or who to look at. Mingyu seemed to want to sink into his chair. Seokmin had his chin glued to his chest, his eyes completely focused on the open book.

“Dude”

Jeonghan slapped Seungcheol on the head, who was just laughing at the situation as if everything was a big joke to him and probably it really was. The only problem was that no one was laughing with him.

“That's a valid question! I'm sure you're curious too”

You pushed the chair you were sitting in back hard, the friction of the metal on the floor probably leaving marks that would be there forever.

“Seriously, what's your problem?”

You grabbed the hood of Seungcheol's coat and pulled him out of the room, while he complained and made a fuss.

“You're strangling me!”

You rolled your eyes.

“At least you'll stop talking shit”

You stopped only when you were close to the door and could reach the doorknob with your free hand.

“It’s just a joke!” he tried to defend himself.

“You don’t have the right to come to my house and embarrass my friends, so if you don’t know how to behave, you can leave.”

You turned your back to him for a second, just long enough to grab his bag from the couch and throw it into his arms.

“You can’t kick me out, it’s not even your house.”

You took a deep breath and closed your eyes.

“Jeonghan?” you said without turning to look at your brother, your eyes never leaving Seungcheol.

“It’s her house, yeah.”

You raised your eyesbrows at him, mimicking him.

“See? Great, you can go now.”

Needless to say, the rest of the night had been pretty close to a funeral. Jeonghan had holed up in his room and you suspected he was either asleep or dead, because he hadn't made a single sound and hadn't come out for anything.

Mingyu didn't even dare to look at you, much less talk with you. A night that was already embarrassing enough because you still had college rumors swimming around in your brain had gotten even worse because, at some point during the night, Seungcheol had decided, in a not-so-casual way, to drop the bomb that Mingyu had a crush on you.

And no matter how much you thought about it, how many ways you tried to analyze and remember those years, it didn't make sense.

You were sure you had never spoken to Mingyu, that you hadn't spoken directly to him before. The first time you talked was a few weeks before, in college. Even if you didn't remember him, you were certain you hadn't of it. You always made a point of staying away from Jeonghan's teammates, your brother made a point of keeping them away too.

That old story, when one doesn't want to, two don't fight. And in this case, neither you nor Jeonghan had any interest in you getting closer to his teammates.

In your head, it didn't make sense. Seungcheol was just talking a bunch of nonsense because he could, because he knew you never had the urge to argue with him. With Jeonghan? Silly arguments were normal, you sent your brother to hell as easily as you fell asleep after a long day. But not with Seungcheol, because you knew he loved the fights, he had fun, you always chose to just let him talk until he got tired. It was one thing to tease you and another one, entirely too different, to do it with your friends.

Logically, you knew that at some point in the past Mingyu had been friends with him too, but you also knew that that friendship had died the moment Seungcheol graduated from school.

Seokmin was the only one who dared to say something, completely focused on the assignment, but it was obvious that he was trying to break the ice of the situation. Trying and failing.

“I think it’s time for us to go,” Seokmin said as soon as he heard the sound of a door coming down the hallway and a second later Jeonghan walked towards the kitchen.

“Yeah, it’s kinda late” Mingyu agreed and stood up.

There was no way to disagree with them, it was late and the mood had gone down the drain. Prolonging the situation would almost be a form of torture for the three of you.

“Sorry about Seungcheol”

You didn’t know what to do with your hands. You wished you had pockets so you could have somewhere to hide them, but the leggings and shirt you were wearing didn’t provide any hiding spots.

“It’s okay, really” Mingyu assured you “He’s always been like this”

Seokmin went into the living room, but you and Mingyu remained standing there, barely breathing. You wanted to ask if it was true, if he really had a crush on you, or if Seungcheol was just trying to annoy someone and chose Mingyu. You also didn't understand what he had said, about Seungcheol “always being like this”. Did he mean annoying or someone who teased his friends with embarrassing secrets? Either answer would be correct but you wanted to hear it from him.

You wanted to ask, but you didn't have the courage. If it was true, it was bad and if it was a lie, it was worse. If it was true, you would feel even worse for not remembering him right away. If it was a lie, it would be bad you had liked to hear, when you knew you shouldn't care.

“I don't know if it's a good time,” he said, “but there's a game on Friday. You could go and take Kira with you.”

You were shaking your head before he could even finish speaking.

“It can’t, I already have a thing already” 

“Oh, okay” he nodded and turned to the living room. “Bye, Jeonghan.” 

Your brother appeared in the living room, putting his phone in his pocket, but looking like he had heard the entire conversation between you and Mingyu. 

“Bye.” 

You closed the door when you saw Mingyu and Seokmin enter the elevator. You were ready to hide in your room and try, even if it was impossible, to understand what had happened that night, but of course, Jeonghan had other plans. He was leaning against the wall in the hallway, his arms crossed over his chest, an inquisitive look on his face. 

“Don’t start,” you warned. 

Everything that had happened, not only that night but also during the week, had simply been too much for you. You had just gotten used to the idea of ​​having Mingyu around, you had started to like having him around. But then everything happened so fast. A laugh on the sidewalk had become an unbridled make-out, a smile a declaration of love. 

The rumors had gotten worse since that first day. Kira talked about them carefully, mainly because she knew you didn't want to be associated with athletes in any way, but she never failed to tell you anything about what was going on. That's only you begged her to tell you, otherwise it would be like in those cliché movies, the girl walking down the hallway and discovering all the rumors that were going around about her because she overheard someone's conversation. 

And it wasn't like you hadn't gotten stares in the hallways, but the truth is that you had gotten used to them when you were still a teenager. Getting into that same skin of an apathetic, uncaring person was pretty easy. 

"Why didn't you accept going to his game? You like it. It would have been fun” 

And on top of that, as the cherry on the cake, because of course life couldn't just make things a little easier for you, there was that whole shit show from a few hours before. Even though you hated the situation with a passion, you knew there was some truth to it. At that moment, you felt, once again, as if you were still 15 years old, sitting in the living room at home, enduring whatever nonsense Seungcheol decided to say.

Seungcheol was the kind of guy who made jokes out of real situations. In that sense, he was the complete opposite of Jeonghan. Your brother came up with impossible situations, bordering on insanity, and spoke about them with such conviction that you felt compelled to believe him. Seungcheol, on the other hand, took small facts and distorted them, or just exaggerated them in some way.

At that moment, sitting at that table, watching Mingyu's face become completely devoid of any color, you knew it was true. Maybe, yes, an exaggerated version of the truth, but a truth nonetheless.

“Jeonghan, it's just… I can’t”

You walked past him. That scene was too familiar and despite the theme of the conversation being different, you didn't want to have to go through the same situation again.

“Because of me?”

“Because of him.”

You hated seeing that look on Jeonghan’s face like he blamed himself for everything that was wrong with you. Daddy issues? Mommy issues? Apparently, you had brother issues.

“You know, one day I hope you stop caring so much about what people think, because you’re barely living your life right now, hoping that someone, someday, won’t care.”

Jeonghan's words floated through your mind for days. You found yourself standing in the middle of the campus several times, analyzing the people who were walking from one side to the other, some in a hurry, others talking to each other, many too distracted with phones in their hands to pay attention to what was happening around them. 

None of them, no matter how much part of your brain said otherwise, seemed to care about you. 

Even though you had been the main topic of conversation for a few days, everything changed when someone on the football team got drunk enough to kneel on a bar table crying, declaring his undying love to a girlfriend from elementary school. You had hidden yourself for so long, away from everything that you considered to be a problem, that you had forgotten how things worked. 

No one really cared — no one might be a little too much to say, but very few people looked at you and cared about what was happening. It was much easier to understand the situation than to start acting differently, but you hoped it was a start, however small it was. 

Your phone started to vibrate in your hand, a second later the screen lit up, and the word mom flashed on the screen. You knew what she wanted. You had been avoiding her calls and messages for a couple days. But you knew you couldn't pretend you were in class anymore, come up with some lame excuse to ignore her. She had even called Jeonghan and asked, or rather ordered, him to tell you to call her. You had avoided it as much as possible.

“Hi, mom”

“Ah, you finally remembered you have a mom”

You could imagine the exact scene: your mother walking back and forth, her hair tied into a low ponytail, gesturing before dropping her hand and slapping her thigh. You couldn't help but smile when you heard the clear sound of footsteps, followed by a slap.

“Sorry, I've been busy. You know how it is.”

“I can always talk to your brother just fine”

You knew she didn’t mean anything, you knew it wasn’t a comparison — at least not a conscious one — but the sentence was received with a sting anyway.

“That’s because Jeonghan has a schedule for literally everything. I study until I nearly blackout or my brain turns to pudding, which ever comes first.”

You walked to nearest bench and sat down with a sigh.

“Have you been sleeping? Eating enough? You and your brother are terrible cooks, and I know he eats at the club most of the time, but what about you? I can come by every week and bring you food, it’s not a problem.”

She kept talking nonstop, you were sure she was already making a list of everything she needed to make enough food for a week. 

“Mom!” you said loudly, loud enough for the girl next to you, who had headphones on, to look at you. You smiled awkwardly, lowering your head a little in apology. “Mom, we’re fine. We learned how to cook enough to survive.”

“Noodles are not a real meal.”

You rolled your eyes.

“We have vegetables, rice, and meat at home, Mom. I went shopping yesterday,” you said before she could say anything.

“One of these days I’ll show up and surprise you.”

“And on that day, you’ll find the fridge full and food ready,” you said jokingly.

You were silent for a few seconds, until she spoke again, this time her tone much more cautious.

“I know you don’t like it very much, that you’d rather be anywhere else, doing anything else, than participating in this, but just this year, couldn’t you consider going to the hospital gala? I know it’s the middle of the semester, that you have a lot of things to do, that you’re looking for an internship, but it’s just one night and…”

Even with all the differences you had with your mother, you didn’t like seeing — in this case, hearing — her begging for anything, much less for your presence at an event that you knew was important to the family. Ever since you started refusing to go to it, your mother never forced you to go. She insisted a little on the first year and asked if you hadn’t changed your mind at the last minute. But never like that. For whatever reason, she wanted you at the party, and by extension, you knew your father did too.

“I’ll go, Mom. I’m going to buy a dress tomorrow.”

Despite the distance, you knew your mother’s breath had caught in her throat, that she was trying her best to control herself. She liked parties and glamor and she liked it even more when you attended. And you liked it too, until… until you decided to avoid it.

You had to start somewhere, this whole thing of not caring what people thought. It was best to start somewhere at least somewhat familiar, right?

“I… set… I have…” she cleared her throat and began again “I made hair and makeup appointments for me. You want me to schedule it for you too?”

Her voice was almost shaking, making you feel even worse. Had you alienated yourself from mother to the point where she was shaking just because you agreed to go to a party?

“Could you make an appointment for a manicure too? I need to get my nails done.”

He walked into the room, adjusting his tie around his neck, laughing at whatever his sister had said, hating the feeling of being suffocated. He wanted, almost desperately, to take off the damn tie, but he knew better than to. His sister would laugh at the situation, but his parents, especially his father, would not be happy about it. It's not like he disliked the event itself, but he hated having to pretend. Pretending that he and his parents got along well and that the smiles they gave when someone complimented Mingyu were genuine. 

It was all completely and utterly fake. 

The truth was that Mingyu barely spoke to his parents. He didn't know when was the last time he had talked to them, just to talk. He didn't know what it was like to ask if everything was okay just because he cared. He didn't know what it was like to send a picture of a place, or anything, to his mom because he could, because he wanted to like he always saw Seokmin do. 

He always tried his best to keep his distance. Maybe being so far away from his parents wouldn't make him feel like a complete failure every time he thought about them. Logically, he knew that wasn't the case, he knew he wasn't a failure, but he was a disappointment to his parents. So he kept his distance, it was easier.

He still attended events like that to keep up appearances, that was an important thing to them. Not having received support, affection, or love from his parents since he was 17? Insignificant compared to the need to maintain the idea of ​​a united and happy family in front of their friends.

In the end, he didn't mind going to events like that, supposedly for charity. He liked seeing his sister and deep down he liked seeing his parents' friends praising him and saying how amazing it was that he had a career completely independent of his parents and even without their help.

Mingyu liked to think that his father had opened up about not having helped him at all in an attempt to seem tough and smarter than his son, but that only made him seem bitter every time his career as an athlete was the subject of conversation. Besides, he could see his school friends again. So it was a win-win situation: his parents kept up appearances and he had fun reminiscing about his school days as if it had been 20 years instead of just 3.

“If you keep pulling that tie, it’ll rip,” his sister said, laughing as she forced Mingyu’s hand down.

“It’s suffocating”

“Oh, you poor baby,” she pouted mockingly at Mingyu.

Mingyu shook his head and turned to the rest of the room, looking for a familiar face. He quickly found Jeonghan and Seungcheol but decided not to approach them as he normally would. If it had been last year’s party, Mingyu would have talked to them both, but this time he chose to stay in the same place.

That night at Jeonghan’s house still left a bitter taste in Mingyu’s mouth. He had a plan, which might not have worked — that probably wouldn’t have worked — but if one day you found out about his teenage crush, Mingyu wanted you to find out by him, and not through some guy who had brought it up for no reason. He wanted to ask you out, to go little by little until you felt comfortable with him. But Seungcheol did him the huge favor of throwing everything out the window for a joke.

It’s like that old saying: I lose the friend, but I don’t lose the joke. And Mingyu wasn’t his friend, not now or back in school, so truthfully there was no loss for Seungcheol.

And then he saw you.

For a second he thought it was a mirage. It had been years since you had last been to that kind of event. Your last one was Mingyu’s first. He thought he was imagining things, that he was so crazy wanting to talk to you that he had started to imagine you in places you weren’t.

He watched as you walked right past Seungcheol, even when he tried to talk to you and stopped next to Jeonghan. Your expression was serious, a little uncomfortable, but beautiful. 

The strapless dress slid down your body, almost as if it had been molded to your curves perfectly, tailored just for you. Your hair was loose over your back, just two strands framing your face. And your lips... lips painted in the sexiest shade of red he had ever seen.

Forget the little crush he had back in high school, this didn't even compare. It was a goddamn waterfall. Mingyu felt like he was standing next to one too with the way his heart was beating so loudly and deafening in his ears. 

It was official, he was lost. He didn't know what to do. It was the first time he had felt this nervous in your presence. Before, it had been like butterflies flying around in his stomach, that kind of fun anxiety, the one that makes one giddy and excited. 

He tugged at his tie again and grabbed a glass from the tray of a waiter who passed by. He didn't know what it was and also he didn't care, he needed something to wet his throat. The liquid went down bitterly, burning. The surprise made him have a small coughing fit.

Suddenly it was as if all eyes had turned to him, including yours. You smiled slowly as Minseo patted Mingyu on the back, trying to help, but making the situation even worse.

You quickly turned to Jeonghan, saying something for a second before walking towards Mingyu. With each step you took, he felt like his heart was beating faster and faster, to the point of almost exploding in his chest.

Over your shoulder, he saw Jeonghan smile and give him a thumbs up.

"Go for a walk," he said to his sister, without taking his eyes off you.

Did he say a waterfall? Forget it, it was more like an entire ocean.

Unconsciously, you smoothed your dress at least twice as you walked towards Mingyu. In a place full of so many theoretically important people, much more important than the two of you, it was very easy to go to him. Taking all those steps wasn't scary at all.

The feeling was completely different from that one time you had talked in college. That day, you had waited for him, your fingers trembling a little because you were in a place where anyone could see you. However, at that moment, you didn't feel any kind of nervousness.

Maybe, there was some nervousness, but the good kind. When you're excited to do something, the kind that you were sure would bring good things. You liked to think that the good thing at the moment was Mingyu.

"You look, wow... stunning."

He smiled and it was as if the breath had been taken from you, as if for a whole second your lungs forgot their purpose, forgot that they were supposed to push air into your body.

“Look at you, using pretty words,” you somehow found your voice again.

You tried your best to hide the nervousness you felt, the slight tremor in your voice. You didn’t know why you were feeling that way. You had seen Mingyu so many times, before and after you found out who he was. You had seen him in a pair of sweats and a t-shirt walking around campus; you were at the bar when he walked in wearing an all-denim look and glasses on the back of his head — you remembered finding that way of wearing glasses ridiculous, but you hated to admit that it made sense on him —, you had seen him walking around with his cap on backward.

You had always made a point of staying as far away from him and the circle he frequented as possible, but you could never deny that he was gorgeous. But there, in that moment, in that a black suit, his tie a little crooked and the most magnificent smile you had ever seen, you thought that maybe you didn’t need to force yourself to be away from him all the time.

“Just to impress a beautiful woman.”

You smiled, even though you tried to contain yourself, pressing your lips together. But you knew it was useless. There wasn't a single cell in your body that didn't like the attention you were getting, that didn't like his compliments.

“You haven't been to one of these in years.”

You nodded and looked over your shoulder. Your mother was chatting animatedly with a colleague, her eyes shining as she held out her hand and a second later your father was beside her.

You had all these differences with your parents, things that you disliked about them, and that made you keep your distance from them, but the truth is that you loved them.

When you arrived at your parent's house to get ready earlier that day, your dress in the bag, your backpack almost falling off your shoulders, it was as if you had been transported to your house 8 years before. But it was also different.

You half expected some comment, anything, no matter how small, that could be a comparison with Jeonghan — how even though he was completely busy with work if he didn't have a game or any specific schedule, he would always go to events, while you did everything to avoid it. But the comment never came.

Your mother sat by your side all day, asking you questions about yourself, about college, about the internship. She never mentioned Jeonghan, and when you tried to mention him, the only answer you got was “I don’t want to know about your brother, I want to know about you.” 

You wanted to cry when you heard those words. It was the kind of thing you laways wanted to hear from her. The confirmation that you didn’t need to be compared to Jeonghan, that it was okay not to live in his shadow all the time. 

“Do you come every year?” 

“Yeah, my mother and sister would forgive me if I missed it.” 

You nodded with a low noise in the back of your throat and took a step forward, your body a little too close to Mingyu’s, your fingers closing around his tie and pulling it slightly to the side until it was aligned with the buttons of his shirt. 

You didn’t know what possessed you to do that. All your sane neurons, which hadn’t melted when he smiled at you for the first time, screamed that you were one step away from insanity, that you were, in fact, already crazy. You were sure that nurses the size of refrigerators would show up and take you to the psychiatric ward of the hospital at any second.

You licked your lips and took a step back, avoiding looking directly at Mingyu. 

“It was the first time my mother managed to convince me in years” you admitted. 

You looked around, looking for a waiter, wishing one would materialize in front of you, just so you could have something to hold on to, but have something to do with his hands, but there was none around. 

“I'll thank her as soon as I see her.” 

“You're a shameless flirt, aren't you?” 

“Only when there's a gorgeous woman in front of me.”

The rest of the night went by smoothly, without any temporary bouts of insanity. There were a few moments, but you managed to control yourself every time. You managed to control the urge you had when you were next to him, to simply hold his hand. 

Your mother was a great help, taking you away from Mingyu now and then to introduce you to some friends and coworkers. Jeonghan was by your side every time you weren't with Mingyu, like a bodyguard. You wondered if he was acting that way because you had said those things to him before; and if your mother's change in attitude was also related. Despite it all, although you had been shown off for part of the night, you had had fun. It could also have been the alcohol talking. 

You had accepted a few more glasses than you should have. You were far from drunk, but you were certainly not in your sanest state. However, the alcohol brought a wave of courage to you, which until then had been completely unknown. 

Towards the end of the gala, after dinner, when some of the guests had already started to leave, you saw Mingyu at the table next to yours. His parents sat in front of him, his sister next to him, and some people you had no idea who they were sat on at the edges. Mingyu kept his head low, nodding now and then. He seemed desperate to get out of there.

Before reason could prevail, you stood up and walked towards him. You placed your hand on his shoulder and leaned your body forward until your face was close to his.

“Can you help me with something?”

You didn't notice the tremor in Mingyu's voice when he asked to be excused because your whole body was shaking too. You smiled at his parents and turned towards the exit, needing some fresh air.

A new wave of tremors and electricity ran through your body when Mingyu put his hand on your lower back. He was neither guiding nor rushing you. His hand was simply there, lightly. He pulled the door open for you and somehow still managed to keep his hand on you. 

You liked it, the weight of it, his presence there.

"Did something happen?" he asked when you were far enough from the door and prying ears, letting his hand drop at the side of his body.

You just shook your head, wrapping your arms around yourself, suddenly missing the warmth from inside. 

"No, you just seemed to be suffering" you half smiled, half laughed, suddenly feeling a little pathetic for assuming things. 

Mingyu smiled at you then, removing his jacket and dropping it over your shoulder.

"Thank you. If it weren't for you, this night would have sucked entirely"

It was silent for a minute, neither one of you doing anything at all. You were simply standing side by side, his elbow brushing yours from time to time while he rocked on his heels. 

It was most definitely the alcohol talking, it had to be because there was no way you'd ever say what you were about to say if it weren't for it. Never, in good and normal conscience you'd have been bold enough. And yet, there you were. 

"Can I ask you something?" 

You turned to him and got a nod as an answer, his eyes expectant and curious. You forced the words out before you had the chance to stop yourself. 

"That day, at my place, Seungcheol mentioned you having a crush on me. Was that true?"

There was a beat of silence, as Mingyu's smile slowly dropped. It was enough to make you regret the question, almost enough to make you regret the whole thing. Seeing Mingyu at the gala was a pleasant surprise, his presence was something you were grateful for during the night. You didn't mean to ruin it at the last minute. 

You blamed the alcohol, though it had very little to do with your decision. You had been curious and wanted to ask Jeonghan about it but didn't dare to do so, not when you knew that your brother would be able to read right through you. 

You blamed Seungcheol and his constant puppy eyes throughout the night, following your every move. His clear apologetic look, though no sorry words were said. His pride was too big for that. 

You blamed yourself too, for being curious about it. You were just fine when he was just a guy from college, someone you'd see now and then in a poster, or someone you heard of in passing. 

You blamed Mingyu too.

"Yeah, it was," he finally answered, sinking his hands into his pants pockets.

Screw it, you thought, if it's raining I might as well get drenched.

"And now?"

You held your breath, waiting for his answer. 

"Still is," he said, voice soft, this almost apologetic smile on his lips. 

You closed your eyes for just a second, somehow lavishing on his answer. There was a small smile on your lips as you turned to him, gripping his tie and pulling him down until you could press your lips to his. 

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[twinkletfout]

— For The Heir —

The Gojo clan is a powerful one, and so is Gojo Satoru. You have been promised to marry Gojo since you two were a child. And that's how you got married to Gojo satoru due to the force of both your parents. But Gojo is the strongest sorcerer, he has other responsibilities that he needs to fulfil, because of that he barely visits you. And when he does, its for his own needs.

The house is built for you and your husband to live a happy ever after life, but you are leading a lonesome life in the very same house. Gojo has come unannounced again on the doorstep

“Long time no see, wifey” he said with a smirk on his face, his hands crossed over his chest.

“Do not call me that” you said it with much force and disgust on his face. Your eyebrows hardening at his cocky demure

He raised his eyebrows, looking at you with an amused expression as he took off his shades, looking directly at you. “Ah, you haven't changed at all, have you?”

You moved to the side to let him in. “It's rare for you to visit” you said with a slight mocking smile on your face.

“Can’t a husband visit his wife once in a while?” he said as he stepped inside the house, as he slid both of his hands in his pockets.

“Cut the act, Satoru” you said getting serious now as you closed the door behind him

He turned around to face you as he stepped closer, still maintaining a visible space between the both of you. His eyes darkening with a hint of annoyance “okay, fine, i'm here for a reason” he said

“Of course, I know you wouldn't be here for a reason, so spit it out,” you said, already getting exhausted by his presence. He let out a dramatic sigh as he said, "There's a meeting at the Gojo clan headquarters. They want you there. And before you start protesting, I already told them you would come.”

"what?" You said in disbelief "you just told them i would come without even asking me?” you asked as your eyebrows knitted with confusion

"Listen, I get it. You don't like being bossed around but like I said, there's a meeting, and your presence is required. I won't take no for an answer.” he said with no emotion flashing across his face, his eyes narrowing at you slightly.

“Im not coming” you simply said at his face. His expression darkened, a flicker of annoyance crossing over his face, "Oh, come on. Stop being so stubborn."

He stepped closer until he was just a few inches away, his voice low and firm. "You don't have a choice. The Gojo clan summons you, and as my wife, you can't refuse. So you're coming whether you like it or not.” he said making it crystal clear, you could feel his anger flaring up each second.

"you show up only when you need something, why do I have to obey your every single word?” you said, arguing back, finally raising your voice. His tone grew sharp as he leaned in closer, his eyes narrowing. "Maybe if you weren't so damn stubborn, I wouldn't have to be here, ordering you around."

He let out an exasperated sigh, running a hand through his hair. "But you are my wife, and the Gojo clan expects you to attend. So stop being difficult and just comply for once.”

You let out a heavy breath before yelling, "I am being difficult? You could've told me beforehand or at least asked me if I wanted to go! Why are you deciding everything??" He clenched his jaw, his patience wearing thin at your constant defiance as he finally raised his voice "I'm not deciding everything, I'm doing what needs to be done. The meeting is important and I cannot have you causing any problems. So can you please just cooperate for once in your life?”

You took a step closer, as you held your head up high looking at his eyes "Have you ever cooperated in my life? Have you ever? tell me!” your voice broke a little as you yelled back

He clenched his jaw, his annoyance growing more apparent. The tension is growing heavy. "Use you? Is that what you think this is? I'm your husband, not some random person off the street. And if I remember correctly, this marriage was an arrangement, an obligation, not a love story."

He paused for a moment, his voice cold and detached. "I come here when I need to, and that's it. You're my wife, but at the end of the day, you're a tool for the Gojo clan” you shuddered at his words, his words sinking into you like knives, you couldn't say anything more, so much rage bubbled up inside you, but a hint of hurt flashed but before you can hold it back, tears welled up in your eyes. You turned your back at him, determined to not let him see that his words has affected you

He observed your reaction, the change in your expression not going unnoticed by him.

A flicker of guilt passed through his eyes, but he pushed it aside, his expression hardening again. He knew he had said those words to shut you up, but seeing you like this was, unexpectedly, harder than he thought.

"a love story? I'm well aware that this is anything but that” despite the argument, after it felt like an eternity we reached the gojo clan headquarters. As you both entered the clan headquarters, the other clan members greeted you both. You put on a polite smile, thanking them as you walked in.

Satoru, on the other hand, was noticeably distant. He nodded at the greeting, but his mind seemed elsewhere, probably still distracted by the events from earlier.

Eventually, the two of you were ushered into a large meeting room, where the other clan members were already seated around a large table. As you sat next to your so-called husband as the meeting went on.

One of the clan members turned to you and your husband as she asked. "So, how's married life treating the two of you?" one of his aunts asked, a polite smile on her face.

Satoru cleared his throat, glancing at you before answering. "It's... going well," he replied, his tone somewhat guarded. “Well, we called you here for a reason” she said, pointing to you with a smile, her face turning more serious.

“any news yet?” she asked. Your eyes widened slightly as you took in the question. All she got as an answer was both of your complete silence. You looked slightly at gojo, but you could tell that he was nervous. She sighed before saying again “this is far more important than you think this is, Gojo” she said. Gojo straightened his posture as he said “yes, i know” he said it with so much annoyance. It felt like he already knew about this matter

“Its both of your responsibility to carry on the gojo bloodline, and to produce a powerful heir into this clan.” She said as the other members agreed, all you could do was nod but you were still in a bit of shock thinking about the current situation about your relationship.

As the meeting concluded, on the way home. You broke the silence asking him “are they serious?” You looked at him as you asked. “They are.” He confirmed as his eyes never left the road. “"No way, satoru. Whatever I did to please you and your family. This. I can't. You know how we are!” I said in so much frustration

He remained silent like he was caught between wanting to say something but didn't know what to say. “I know you don’t want this, and I don’t either,” he replied, his voice strained. “But they’re being relentless. They’re demanding an answer, and they won’t accept ‘no’ as an option.”

Before you could answer he said “we’ll take it slow” You could see the determination in his eyes as you looked over at him. “I know we have our problems but..” he let out a heavy sigh before continuing “it'll work out.” you were extremely mad at him now to not consider what you said. You never in your life thought about going through a relationship like this, you hated yourself for being in this situation.

You didn't know it was for improving the relationship you both had, Gojo has been coming home lately, you didn't comment on it. Of course it will only turn out into a big argument. Even though the conversation between the two of you was minimal it started to improve. He would come home and stay the night and leave the next morning.

Finally the weekend came, it was already past six, when you heard the doorbell you guessed it was gojo as you went to open it, he was dressed in a handsome turtle neck with a trench coat and black wide leg pants. “Get ready, we are going on a date” he said as soon as you opened the door.

Your eyes widened at his comment as you mumbled “what?” his eyes narrowed as he said, “you heard me” a small smirk tugging on his lips, “why now?” you said your eyes looking away searching for the clock to look at the time. “What do you mean? I can't show off my wife a little bit?” he teased as you looked back over at his face as you said “how sweet”

You decided to wear a dark red satin mini maxi dress, with crossed bandages over the back. When you came out of your room, you saw him leaning on the wall as he scrolled on his phone.

“How do I look?” You asked pretty nervously to get his attention actually, he looked over at you as he slid his phone in the side of his pocket. “Breathtaking” he said as he came over to you, his lips curving into a smirk as you raised your head to meet his eyes “i should take you out more often, hm?” you could feel your face heating up at his words. He gently slid his hands down your shoulder making you shiver as he took your hand in his hands “shall we go?”

It was only surprising that gojo engaged in a normal conversation with you, you could feel yourself enjoying this moment with him, how he tried not to get things awkward between the conversation and telling you a quick few jokes to earn a laugh from you. But a thought gnawed in the back of your head, that was he doing all of this just for you to give birth to his child. Or is actually enjoying the moment with you? You were confused.

You snapped back into reality when he asked “you okay?” You nodded your head, you were both heading out of the restaurant, his hands intertwined with yours.

Just like that, months passed as he started to be more present in your life, taking you out every now and then, both of you enjoying the company of spending time with each other.

Gojo came unannounced on a friday evening, you hadn't expected him to come home that day. You were kind of tired after lunch so you took a nap, that's when you heard the doorbell. You rubbed your head as you pushed yourself to go and see who it was, You opened the door, squinting your eyes as it was still hazy.

As you opened the door, Gojo was greeted by the sight of your messy hair, your tank top dishevelled and crinkled. What his eyes focused on was the strap of your top falling off your shoulder.His eyes widened slightly as he took in your appearance, his gaze lingering on your shoulder before quickly averting his gaze. He cleared his throat, a hint of a blush on his cheeks.

"Uh, hey," he said, his voice a bit huskier than usual. "Did I wake you?” realisation dawned on you "satoru? I told you to call me at least when you come over" He watched as you rubbed your eyes, still waking up from your nap.

"Work ended early, so" he replied, leaning against the doorway. "You, uh... you look like you just woke up.” he said looking down at you. "yeah, i was tired, so i took a quick nap" He tried not to focus on the way your top clung to your body, or the way you pulled it up to adjust it.

He was failing, badly.

He forced a smirk on his face as he teased, "Are you always this messy after a nap?” your head bobbed up at his question as your eyebrows knitted "messy? I'm not messy" you protested.

At your cluelessness, he gestured towards your attire. "Your hair's a mess, you're still half asleep, and your top's all crooked," he teased, his eyes flickering over your dishevelled appearance. "Looks like a storm just passed through here.” you felt embarrassed when he said that as you quickly rushed to see your appearance in the mirror after saying "oh Shit."

He chuckled as you cursed. You were so oblivious to the effect you had on him, which made it even more endearing. As you examined yourself, he couldn't help but appreciate the way your loose top clung to your curves, accentuating your figure. He had to look away, feeling his heart rate quicken.

"damn i looked like that?" You said in disgust as you said “let me put on a hoodie” you opened your closet, looking through clothes. For some reason the fact that he had to see you like this made you want to throw yourself off a bridge.

He had to admit, he wouldn't mind if you stayed that way, but he didn't say it out loud. As you mentioned putting on a hoodie, he finally looked back at you, a small smile playing on his lips.

"Why bother? You look fine," he said, his voice casual but laced with a hint of desire. You looked back at his face as you found a grey hoodie in the closet. “Me, no way” you said as you put it over your head. He watched as you covered yourself with the hoodie, He had hoped for a few more glimpses of you, He shrugged, masking his regret. "Suit yourself," he said, trying to sound nonchalant.

He noticed the way you tied your hair up, revealing the slender curve of your neck. It sent a jolt of desire through him, making it harder to keep his composure.

He leaned against the door frame of your room, his gaze roaming over you. "You're always so proper," he teased, a hint of huskiness in his voice. "It's nice seeing you a bit... untamed for once.” your eyes widened slightly when he said that as you looked away, your eyes unfocused “yeah..?” You murmured, your eyes turning pink at his comment. He saw the uncertainty in your expression, how you fidgeted under his gaze. Just the sight of you, was driving him crazy.

He pushed himself off the door frame, closing the distance between you. He was now standing right in front of you, his tall frame towering over you. "You're blushing," he said, his voice low

"me? No" you said, chuckling , playing it cool as you averted your gaze away from him, rubbing the back of your neck. He smirked, His eyes fixated on your face, noticing the subtle flush of red on your cheeks.

"Don't lie," he said, his voice a near whisper. "You're blushing. And I wonder... why is that?"

He stepped even closer, reducing the space between you even more. "maybe if you weren't so close" He could tell he was making you flustered, and he was enjoying it immensely.

"Oh, so it's my proximity that's making you blush?" he teased, closing the distance between you again.

He took another step forward, now close enough that you could feel the slight heat radiating off his body. Your back hit the wall as you could not step back anymore, trying to maintain the space between the both of you. "satoru, what are you-” he cut you off before saying "What am I doing?" he repeated, his voice lower and more raspy than before. "Isn't it obvious?"

He took the opportunity to lean in closer, trapping you between his muscular frame and the wall. He had you cornered now, his eyes trained on yours. He leaned in further until his face was mere inches away from yours, his breath warm on your skin.

His eyes flicked down to your lips as he slowly pushed the hoodie up, revealing a sliver of your bare skin. The sight of your exposed skin sent a thrill through him, and he couldn't help but let his fingers gently graze over it.

"You're even more beautiful when you're a mess," he murmured, his voice dripping with desire. "I should wake you up like this more often.” you didn't know how to respond to what he said, his touch and the way his eyes glanced at your lips, it was all making you crazy, your body trembled at his touch, your eyes not leaving his as you observed his every move. "What do you mean?" You asked with a heavy breath

his lips now mere inches away from your ear. He could hear the hitch in your breath, the slight tremble in your voice "You know what I mean," he whispered, his breath hot against your ear. "Seeing you like this, all messed up like that, it's doing things to me.” your whole face heated up as he whispered to you.

You couldn't help but look away from his striking gaze. He noticed your averted gaze, It only fueled his desire further. He reached out a hand and gently turned your face back towards him, forcing you to meet his gaze.

"Look at me," he commanded, his voice firm. As your hands fisted the fabric of his shirt as you met his gaze. The sight of you, pinned against the wall and looking at him with those wide, innocent eyes, made his pulse quicken.

His body pressed against yours, trapping you completely. His hands moved to either side of your head. "That's better.”

His lips were now dangerously close to yours, His eyes flicked down to your lips, noting the slightly parted state, and he found it increasingly hard to resist the urge to taste you. Your gaze moved down to his lips and then back up to his eyes, a silent admission of your desire.

He couldn't hold back any longer. With a low growl, he closed the remaining distance between you, capturing your lips in a bruising kiss. That's when you realised how badly you craved for a touch. The kiss grew intense each second, fueled by a mutual need that consumed you both. He pressed his body more firmly against yours, pinning you against the wall with his weight, his tongue delving deeper into your mouth. He was greedy, so greedy.

[foreverisntenough]

‘Act II’

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

Index

Warnings: This series is 18+ MDNI

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

Chapter 7 - Madrid or Manhattan | ‘Act II’

word count - 11.2k

The following day, you couldn’t take the distance or the unknown any longer. That night had been a blur of bad decisions and misplaced anger, and now, with a mildly more clear head, you knew what you had to do. You needed to see Jude, to confront him, to figure out where you two stood. The thought of him with someone else, or worse, of him moving on from you, was unbearable. You had to know if there was anything left to salvage. You had acted out and you’d need to fix this or put it to bed. Once again, in a last ditch effort, without hesitation, you booked a flight back to Madrid, your heart racing as you imagined what might happen when you saw Jude again. If he had done it again—if he had been with someone else since your last conversation—you knew you would have to walk away for good. But deep down, you hoped that wasn’t the case. You hoped that Jude had been as miserable as you had, that he had spent every moment thinking of you. You didn’t tell him you were coming, you wanted him to not know in case he was with someone else. That’d be it for you. You were racking up flight miles. The environment was screaming at you but you took another flight anyway. When you arrived at Jude’s house, your nerves were frayed, your emotions teetering on the edge. The lack of sleep catching up to you. You didn’t bother with the formalities this time, just knocked on the door and waited, your heart pounding in your chest. When Jude opened the door, his surprise was evident, but there was something else in his eyes too—relief.

“Y/N,” he breathed, his voice a mix of surprise and something that sounded like hope. “You’re here.” Jude felt his heart beat slow down to a point where he wasn’t sure if you were really there or if he was imagining things.

“Yeah,” you replied, your voice wavering slightly. “I’m here.” You stood there for a moment, neither of you knowing what to say, until Jude stepped aside to let you in. The air between you was thick with unspoken words, the weight of everything that had happened pressing down on you.

“Looked like you’d been having fun lately. Saw the posts,” Jude admitted as you sat down on the same sage green couch that used to be a place of comfort until your relationship or whatever with him was shattered in a moment by him, the tension palpable. He didn’t mean to sound so passive and short but he was hurt. “I know what you were doing. And I hated every second of it.” You winced hearing him call you out layered with a bit of anger of your own too.

“Having fun?” Your eyes narrowed on him, annoyed he said that. “Whatever. That was the point,” you replied, not unkindly, but with a bitterness that lingered in your voice. “I was angry, Jude. I didn’t know how else to make you understand how much you hurt me.” And when you told Jude that you had slept with someone to spite him for doing the same, it hit him harder than he expected.

“I know I messed up,” Jude said, his voice thick with regret, tears building on his waterline. “I haven’t done anything but think about you since you left. I was so stupid, so insecure, and I let it get the best of me. But I haven’t been with anyone else, Y/N. I swear.” Jude took a deep breath. You studied his face, searching for any sign that he was lying, but all you saw was the same regret and pain you had been carrying. The anger you had been holding onto started to crumble, replaced by a deep, aching sadness.

“I have though…” You cried. A sight Jude hadn’t expected. He knew you were upset but he put it down to anger but sadness, a broken heart, he could barely look at you. He felt more sick than before knowing that he made you feel this way. He knew. You tried to take a deep breath but you were shaking. He knew you well enough to know how you’d respond to him hooking up with someone else. The divide between you was so vast you weren’t sure you’d ever be able to build a bridge. The jealousy and hurt twisted in his gut as he realized that the thought of you with anyone else was unbearable. To know you were in someone else’s bed made him sick. It had been building since he slept with another girl but as he heard it roll off your tongue, that was the moment Jude understood that what he felt for you went far beyond just liking you—he was in love with you. The idea of losing you, the girl he had uncontrollably and unintentionally fell in love with made him feel physically ill, bringing all his buried emotions to the surface. You sat on the edge of the couch as emotions flooded you once over, your face buried in your hands as you cried softly. The weight of everything that had happened between you two felt unbearable, like it was crushing you from the inside out. Jude stood up in front of you, his face loosing color and filled with a mixture of hurt and helplessness. He hadn’t said much since you admitted it—admitted that you’d slept with someone after you found out about him and the other girl. You hated it. Hated that you had hurt him, hated that you had hurt yourself in the process. But more than anything, you hated how much you still cared about him, how much you wanted him even now. “I don’t understand,” you choked out through your tears, your voice breaking. “I don’t understand why I like you so much, even after everything. I shouldn’t. I shouldn’t feel this way, but I do.”

“Hey,” he whispered, his voice soft but strained. “It’s okay. I know you’re hurting.” Jude knelt down in front of you, his hands gently cupping your face, his thumb brushing away your tears.

“I don’t want to be hurting!” you snapped, the frustration boiling over. “I hate this. I hate that I like you so much, Jude. I hate that even when I try to move on, you’re all I think about. You’re the only thing I’ve thought about since I left here. Just you all fucking day. I’ve done nothing else.” You whined. Jude winced, clearly pained by your words, but he didn’t pull away. He wasn’t sure how he felt that you were so distraught over the idea of liking and thinking of him the way you were.

“I know,” he said quietly. “I know it hurts. But you’re not alone. I feel the same.” He just stayed there, holding your face in his hands, his eyes searching yours. You shook your head, the tears coming harder now.

“But you don’t. You don’t know how much it hurts. You slept with someone else, I slept with someone else… How are we supposed to come back from that?” You cried. Jude took a deep breath, his hands dropping to your shoulders, steadying you.

“Because none of that matters to me anymore. What matters is that you’re here, with me. And I don’t want you to leave.” Jude hummed, holding onto you firmly. He leaned forward resting his forehead against yours, taking a deep breath.

“What are you saying?” You blinked at him, your heart aching at his words. Jude knew he should tell you why. Tell you how he really felt but those words couldn’t come out.

“I’m saying… I need you,” Jude whispered, his voice cracking with emotion. “I don’t know how to explain it, but I feel like I can’t do this without you. I don’t want to do this without you. You’re the only person who makes me feel like… like everything’s going to be okay. Even when it’s not.” He took another deep breath. Your chest tightened at his confession, and despite all the hurt, all the mistakes, a part of you wanted to believe him. A part of you needed to believe him. “Stay,” he said softly, his eyes pleading. “Stay in Madrid with me. With me tonight, whenever you want. Please. We’re both hurting, I know that. But you’re the only one who makes me feel better. Holding you is the only thing that’s going to make it better.” Jude thought he might start crying so he let his eyelids flutter close.

“What if it happens again, Jude? What if we hurt each other all over again?” You looked away, your heart racing, the fear creeping in.

“I don’t want to hurt you anymore. I swear. I just… I just want you. I need you.” He shook his head, his grip on you tightening. You felt yourself breaking down, the tears flowing again as you leaned into him. Jude wrapped his arms around you, pulling you into his chest, holding you as if he was afraid to let go.

“I don’t know if I can do this,” you whispered. You clung to him, your sobs muffled against his shirt.

“You can,” Jude murmured into your hair. “I know you can. I know we can.” You stayed like that, wrapped in each other, both of you hurting but unwilling to let go. It wasn’t perfect, it wasn’t even close, but in that moment, the only thing that mattered was that you were together. You didn’t know what the future held, or if you could ever truly move past the pain, but you knew one thing for sure: you weren’t ready to walk away. Not yet.

“I was so scared, Jude,” you whispered, your voice breaking as the tears spilled over again. “I didn’t want to fall for you because I knew this would happen. I knew I’d get hurt. I knew this would happen.” You pouted with a quivering bottom lip.

“I’m so sorry, angel,” he murmured into your hair, his voice thick with emotion. Jude reached for you, pulling you into his arms, the tears soaking into his shirt. He held you close, his heart breaking as he felt just how deeply he had wounded you. “I never wanted to hurt you. I just… I didn’t know how to handle what I was feeling. But I want to make this right. I want you here, with me. I don’t want to lose you.” He whispered. You clung to him, the floodgates unable to close as you let out all the pain and fear you had been carrying. In that moment, in Jude’s arms, you felt a flicker of hope maybe you’d be able to rebuild what had been broken.

“I want to stay,” you whispered, your voice trembling with both fear and hope. “But I’m scared, Jude. I’m too scared of getting hurt again. You really hurt me.” You cried.

“I know,” he said softly. Jude held you tighter, pressing a kiss to the top of your head. “But I’m here, and I’m not going anywhere. We’ll figure this out together, I promise.” And for the first time since you fled Madrid, you let yourself believe that you could. You went to sleep in Jude’s room that night in an intense silence. The air was thick with tension, as if every unspoken word, every bottled emotion had made the room smaller, tighter, almost suffocating. You had come all this way to see if there was anything left to salvage between you and Jude, but now, lying next to him in bed, you weren’t sure. The silence between you was intense, almost unbearable, but the thought of letting go was more painful. His arms were wrapped around you, and you couldn’t tell where his body ended and yours began. You weren’t sure if it was humanly possible to be as close as you two were in his bed. Despite the space you tried to keep between your minds and hearts, your bodies refused to acknowledge it. It wasn’t the same as before though. There were no whispered kisses or soft laughter. This wasn’t passion, it was desperation—an instinctual need to be close, to hold on to the only thing that felt familiar in a world that was quickly unraveling. You both stayed still for a long time, as if moving or speaking would shatter whatever fragile thing was keeping you together. The warmth of his chest against your back was the only thing grounding you, and yet it felt distant, too. Occasionally, you could feel him shift, his breath shaky, a small sniffle escaping him. In the quiet, you realized he was crying too, though he tried to hide it, just like you were. Tears silently streamed down your face, soaking into the pillow beneath you and you were pretty sure some of them would drip onto his arm. You didn’t even bother wiping them away. You weren’t sure if he could feel them, or if he already knew, but part of you hoped he did. Maybe it would save you the trouble of trying to explain the heartbreak clawing at your chest. Every breath felt heavy, every second drawn out, weighted by the regret hanging between you. The things you hadn’t said. The feelings you hadn’t admitted. The mistakes you both made that had led you here—together but impossibly apart. The words ‘I love you’ hovered unspoken in the room, almost too big to say aloud, but they screamed in your mind. If you said them now, would it fix things? Or would it make them worse? You weren’t sure. There were moments where you thought you felt Jude shift closer, as if he was trying to gather the courage to say something, but he never did. The silence remained, only occasionally broken by your mutual sniffles or the rustle of sheets. You wanted to scream, to shake him, to demand he say something, anything, but instead, you just lay there, clinging to him as if letting go would break you entirely. Hours passed, but sleep didn’t come. How could it, with so much between you that still needed to be said? The weight of it all pressed down on you, making it hard to breathe, hard to think clearly. But even then, even through the pain and confusion, you couldn’t imagine being anywhere else but here, in this bed, with him. You didn’t know what the morning would bring—if you would still be holding each other or if the final goodbye was waiting on the other side of this silence—but for now, this was all you had. And even though it hurt, even though it felt like it might break you both, neither of you could let go.

That morning it was tense but Jude thought that if you flew here you must have craved the same thing he did. You wanted to close this distance. The morning air in Madrid was still cool, the early sun spilling into the room like a quiet reminder of everything left unsaid. You stood in the en-suite, your hands gripping the edge of the sink as you brushed your teeth, staring blankly at your reflection. It wasn’t just the exhaustion from travel, or even the tension that clung to the air like a suffocating fog—it was everything. Every decision, every misstep, and most of all, the pain that weighed down your chest like a heavy stone. When you finished, you walked back into the bedroom, the tension palpable in the silence between you and Jude. He was sitting on the edge of the bed, fiddling with his phone, his jaw set in a way that told you he was thinking too hard about what to say.

“Do you want breakfast?” Without looking up, he finally broke the silence, his voice quiet and almost too casual. It was an olive branch, awkward and uncertain, but it was something. You nodded, still feeling the weight of everything between you both as you glanced toward the balcony. The doors were open now, letting the morning breeze drift through. Jude had laid out breakfast on the small table outside—nothing too grand, just simple plates and chairs, but it was thoughtful. In that moment, despite everything, it was exactly what you needed.You stepped outside, the brightness of the Madrid sun almost blinding, and you gave Jude a sad smile. He followed, his movements slower, more deliberate, as if he was trying to figure out how to navigate the space between you. The small table sat between you both now, but it wasn’t the table or the breakfast that mattered—it was the unspoken words, the ghosts of last night, and the quiet ache that lingered in both of your hearts. You took a deep breath, the knot in your chest tightening as you realized you couldn’t dance around it any longer. You couldn’t pretend like it hadn’t happened, like you hadn’t both crossed a line you swore you wouldn’t. The words caught in your throat, but you forced them out, your voice soft and shaky.

“Jude,” you started, glancing down at the table before meeting his eyes. “I made a mistake. I shouldn’t have… I shouldn’t have done what I did, but all it’s done is made me realize—” Your voice cracked slightly, but you pushed forward. “There’s no one like you. No one.” The admission hung in the air between you both, heavy with meaning. Jude’s expression softened, but the pain was still there, written all over his face. He looked down at the table, then back at you, his jaw tightening as if he was trying to hold something back.

“I feel the same,” he said quietly, his voice thick with emotion. “What I did… I regret it. I wish I could take it back. I thought… I thought it would make it easier to forget everything, to just push it away. But it didn’t. It just made everything worse. Because it’s you—there’s no one else that’s you.” The honesty in his words hit you like a wave, but it didn’t wash away the hurt. The pain still lingered, heavy and raw, between you both. You nodded slowly, your throat tightening with the threat of tears, but you blinked them back. This wasn’t the time for tears. This was about trying to move forward, even if you didn’t know how. You looked at him, the sunlight casting soft shadows over his face, and you felt the weight of your heart in your chest.

“I think… I might be falling for you, Jude. And you don’t have to say anything back because this I know it’s probably stupid. It scares the hell out of me as well so….” You whispered. He didn’t move for a moment, his eyes searching yours as if he was trying to find the right words, to make sure you really meant yours. Then, slowly, he reached across the table, his fingers brushing against yours. The touch was tentative, but it was enough to ground you, to remind you that, despite everything, you were both still here.

“I’m falling for you too,” he whispered, his voice barely audible. “And I’m so so sorry. I’m so sorry for hurting you.” The pain still lingered, gnawing at the edges of your heart, but for the first time in what felt like forever, there was a small flicker of hope. You both sat there, in the bright Madrid sun, the weight of your mistakes still heavy, but the possibility of something more—something real—finally starting to take shape. You weren’t sure if you could fully move past what had happened, but in that moment, with Jude’s hand resting on yours, you knew you couldn’t walk away either. Not yet. Not when there was still so much left to say, so much left to feel. The road ahead was uncertain, but for now, you had each other. And that, at least, was a start. Jude stood up from his chair, his eyes locked onto yours with a mix of regret and something deeper, something more raw. Breakfast was forgotten in an instant, the food sitting untouched as he closed the small space between you. “Come here,” he whispered, his voice soft but commanding, and before you could even think, he pulled you into his arms, holding you tightly against him. The warmth of his embrace was immediate, and despite everything that had happened, despite the pain, you melted into him. He swayed gently, the movement slow and comforting, as the Madrid sun drenched you both in its golden light. The air was thick with the scent of the morning and the faint sounds of the city below, but up here, in this moment, it was just the two of you. Nothing else mattered. You had told yourself there wasn’t time for tears, that crying wouldn’t help anything—but the moment his arms wrapped around you, it all came crashing down. You couldn’t hold back anymore. The tears started to fall, first in quiet, controlled sobs, but soon, they were unstoppable. Your face pressed into his chest, your fingers clutching his shirt as if letting go wasn’t an option. Jude felt the shift, the way your body shook with the weight of your tears, and he tightened his hold on you, pressing a kiss into your hair. “I’m here,” he murmured, his voice thick with emotion, “I’m here… I’m sorry. I’m so sorry.” He kept repeating it, over and over, the words flowing out of him like a mantra, as if saying it enough times might somehow erase the pain. But it wasn’t just about the apology—it was the way he held you, the way he swayed with you in his arms, as if you were the most fragile thing in the world, and he needed to keep you safe. Neither of you wanted to let go, neither of you could. The tears kept coming, your body trembling against him, but Jude didn’t move. He didn’t pull away, didn’t try to comfort you with empty words. He just held you, letting the weight of the moment sink in. You stayed like that for what felt like ages, swaying back and forth in the sunlight, the world around you fading into the background. Finally, your sobs began to quiet, though the tears still flowed. You buried your face deeper into his chest, his heartbeat steady against your ear, grounding you in a way nothing else could. His hand stroked your back, slow and gentle, like he was trying to soothe the ache that had settled between you both. It wasn’t a moment of resolution, but it was something. A step. And as you stood there, wrapped in his embrace, you realized that despite everything, neither of you were ready to let go. Not of each other, not of the possibility of what you could still be. And for now, that was enough.

The atmosphere between you and Jude was tense at a bar. Despite the emotional reconciliation, Jude seemed to just move on after that. He was sweet to you of course but it kind of bothered you that he was acting as if everything was just as before. Just as before where Jude was primary, you were in secondary when it came to life in Madrid. Just as before where clarification about your relationship wasn’t needed. Jude could talk to the girls who wanted a photo but the second you took a step closer to lean over the bar towards the male bartender Jude’s eyes lit with fear and unfortunately a bit of possessiveness and annoyance. The feeling of your indiscretions still weighing on you both. The neon lights flickered outside, casting colorful shadows on the cobblestone streets of Madrid. Inside, the music was loud, the energy high, and the crowd lively—a perfect distraction from the lingering tension simmering between you. You didn’t like to be told what to do and even though it wasn’t being vocalized you were determined to prove a point tonight, that Jude couldn’t. Jude wasn’t the only one who could command attention, and you were tired of feeling like he was the one in control of this relationship. You’d now flown across the Atlantic Ocean for him twice now and yet there was still no clarification on what you were to him. If he wanted you to act like you were his, he’d have to tell you you were not just assume it. You knew people noticed you, but Jude had a way of overshadowing everything, making you feel like just another part of his world. Tonight, you wanted to remind him that you weren’t just an accessory on his arm. You were not like all those who had bowed down to him before. As you settled into a corner of the bar, Jude’s friend Aurelien had joined you, his usual easygoing charm on full display. Aurelien was one of the few people in Jude’s circle that you genuinely felt like you got on with and you knew he liked you. He was funny, handsome, smart, and—most importantly—he didn’t treat you like you were just Jude’s girl. You both spoke French, and tonight, you decided to use it to your advantage. The night had started innocently enough—but as the drinks flowed and inhibitions lowered. Flirting had always been second nature to you, and tonight was no exception.

“Salut, Aurel, ça fait longtemps,” [Hi, Aurel, it’s been a long time!] you said, your voice lilting as you slipped effortlessly into your shared language. You leaned in close to Aurelien, your lips curving into a playful smile as you greeted him in French.

“Ça va, YN? Toujours aussi belle,” [Are you okay, Y/N? Still so beautiful,] Aurelien replied, his eyes twinkling with mischief as he responded in kind. You exchanged pleasantries, your conversation light and easy, but with an undercurrent that was meant to get under Jude’s skin. And it worked. Jude watched you, his jaw tightening as he struggled to follow the rapid exchange. He didn’t know enough French to follow and the pace you and Aurelien were speaking at made it even harder to keep up. He didn’t like being left out. It felt deliberate, and it stoked the jealousy that had already been smoldering since the Instagram stories. You could feel Jude’s gaze on you, but you didn’t stop. You laughed at something Aurelien said, a light, airy sound that made Jude’s chest tighten. He knew what you were doing, and it drove him crazy. He wasn’t used to feeling this way—possessive, insecure, like he was the one who had to fight for your attention but he had been feeling it essentially since you met. It made him realize just how much he cared, how deeply he was already in. Seeing this in person made things brutally more painful than seeing it on his phone’s screen.

“Enough,” Jude said, his voice low and tense, leaving no room for argument. After a while, Jude wasn’t able to take it anymore. “We’re going home, yeah?.” He reached out, gently but firmly wrapping his hand around your waist, pulling your attention away from Aurelien.

“Already?” you asked, feigning innocence as you met his gaze. “But we’re having such a good time.” You looked at him, surprised by the intensity in his eyes. You knew you had pushed him, but you hadn’t expected this reaction.

“Now, Y/N,” Jude insisted, his grip on your wrist tightening just enough to make his point clear.

“Bonne nuit ma belle.” [Good night, beautiful.] Aurelien looked between you, sensing the tension. He offered you a sympathetic smile, but didn’t interfere. “Jude, hablaré contigo mañana.” [Jude, I'll talk to you tomorrow.] He gave you both a small wave before turning back to the bar. The car ride home was silent, the air between you thick with unspoken words. You could feel the tension radiating off him, but you didn’t back down. You had wanted to make a point, and it seemed like it had worked. As soon as you were inside, Jude turned to face you, his eyes dark with a mix of emotions— jealousy but most of all, desire. The second you both stumbled through the door, the click of the lock barely audible over the tension, Jude's hands were on you-possessive and insistent.

“Why do you have to do this angel? Why won’t you just be a good girl?” He demanded, his voice rough as he tried to keep his devious smirk at bay. You knew he was gaslighting you. God were you embarrassingly turned on though. The intensity in his words took you by surprise.

“You did it first.” You quipped trying to not cave too easily. You crossed your arms over your chest, meeting his gaze defiantly. “Why is it okay for people to fawn over you, but not for me?” you shot back. “You’re not the only one who can turn heads, Jude. I’m not just some accessory to your life.” You explained a bit more seriously than both you and Jude were expecting. He took a step closer, his worry now surpassing his lust.

“I know you’re not,” he said, his voice going soft with emotion. “But you’re mine, Y/N. I don’t want to see you with anyone else. I can’t stand the thought of it. Do you understand that? Not in Manhattan, not in Madrid, not anywhere in the world.” He explained to you, Jude's voice was low and dangerous. Suddenly as you glanced down and saw his pants beginning to tent and you smiled greedily. “Nah, if you wanted my cock so bad all you had to do was ask, angel. I'd fly anywhere in the world for this pussy.” Jude hand slowly came and gripped around your neck. At first it was gentle but then he squeezed taking your breath away. He gave you a smirk that made your pussy throb. His brown eyes smoldering with possessiveness. Jude's hands were on you-insistent. Jude wasted no time after that, pushing you against the door, his body caging you in. "You like to play with fire, don't you, baby?" he murmured, his warm breath fanning your neck. "Flirting with Aurelien right under my nose. You know no one turns you on the way I can though, isn’t that right?" He had you trapped you between the cool surface and the overwhelming heat of him. His lips found yours in a messy, hungry kiss, like he had been waiting all night for this moment, like every touch outside the door was just a tease for what was coming. Your head spun, not just from the alcohol, but from the intensity of his grip on your hips, his fingers digging into your skin like he couldn't get close enough. His kisses were fiery, desperate, as his lips trailed down your neck, igniting your skin wherever they touched. You gasped as his mouth grazed your collarbone, your hands instinctively gripping his hair, pulling him even closer. "You're just f’me," he whispered, his breath hot against your skin, sending a shiver down your spine. “You know you’re just a whore for me.” His hands roamed your body with a mixture of tenderness and urgency, fingers tracing the curve of your waist before slipping under the hem of your top. The friction between your bodies was electric, every movement charged with desire. Your heart raced, pounding in your chest as his lips found yours again, more demanding this time, as though he couldn't stand the distance between you any longer. He had you pinned against the door, you could feel his need, his possessiveness, like he was marking you with every touch, every kiss. The world outside didn't exist anymore-just you and him, lost in each other.

"J-Jude, I didn't mean..." You melted into his hold, completely consumed by the heat of the moment, his touch searing into your skin like fire. You gasped as his hands moved to slid up your thigh, lifting your skirt. Your clothes were just disappearing second by second.

"Shh..." He silenced you with a finger on your lips. "You don't need to explain. I understand what you want, Y/N. You just wanted my attention." He patronized you in the hottest way and even though you knew you should hate him for it it had you desperate for him. His hands reached for the waistband of your panties, slowly sliding them down your legs. You trembled as he exposed your wetness, your body betraying your guilt. "You're so wet, baby. Do you know why?" Jude's voice was a low purr, his fingers teasing your sensitive folds.

"N-no," you whispered, your voice hoarse with desire.

"Because you wanted my attention and now that you’ve got it, you’re excited for me to punish you for being a whore tonight. And you’re gonna love it because you only get to be like this f’me, hmm?" With that, he delivered a sharp smack to your exposed ass, making you cry out.

"Fuck! Jude, please..." You squirmed against the door, your body already responding to his dominance. You moved your hips towards him, his fingers dragging through your fold and then pushing deep inside you. One of his massive hands gripping your ass then the other taking his thumb sliding it from your entrance to your clit. The base of his fingers and knuckles were wet with your slick sliding in and out of you as he simultaneously began to make tight circles on your clit.

"Please what, angel?" He landed another spank as he multitasked, leaving a stinging sensation on your skin. "Do you like being punished for flirting with my friends? Does it make you wet knowing I'm the only one who can touch you like this?"

"Yeah, please... more..." You couldn't deny the pleasure his words and actions were eliciting. Your head fell back, exposing your neck. His lips quick to find your neck, sucking on your sensitive skin. You bucked your hips up against his hand as he moved his fingers in and out of you, his thumb still working your clit.

"That's my good girl. You know who you belong to. I'm going to remind you just how much you're mine. Remind you of the way only I can make you feel." Jude chuckled, the sound sending a thrill through your body. You felt his free hand roam over your body, claiming every inch of you. His fingers pinched your nipples through the lace of your bra, eliciting a moan from your lips. "That's it, let me hear your sweet voice," he encouraged, his breath hot against your ear. "Tell me how much you want my cock." You knew your climax had been rapidly approaching and then he snatched it away. You gasped with a whine. Jude was in control tonight and he was making sure you knew that.

"I want it your cock, Jude, please!” You pleaded, your words fueled by the building desire. Your hand trailed down to the front of his boxers, cupping his length. He groaned into your mouth as you kissed him. You squeezed lightly, feeling the precum soaking through the thin material. His cock twitched under your hand as you rubbed him through his boxers. You slowly began to kiss down Jude’s body.

“Fuck baby. You want to be a good girl now? Show me you know you’re just f’me.” Jude asked you feeling your lips above the waistband of his boxers. Never in your life had you gotten turned on by a man taking control of you, claiming you and yet Jude had you dripping. You took his cock out and greedily licked your lips at the thick length and the vein running along the side of it. You took his cock into your hand and pumped it slowly as you locked eyes with Jude, letting some of your spit drop down into it. Slowly you licked the vein from base all the way up till you wrapped your lips around the tip. Jude’s hands immediately found their way to the back of your head, grabbing your hair tight. You moaned around his length. Jude inhaled as you took more of him until he hit the back of your throat, he bit his lip watching you bop up and down on his cock. “You love having my cock in your mouth, angel, huh? Look so sexy like this.” he groaned. You moaned and the hum vibrated through him. You took him deeper picking up the pace, minute after minute flying by. “Baby…you’re gonna make me cum like this.” Jude groaned as you let him fuck your face. “You don’t want me to cum in your mouth though do you? I think you like it when I cum somewhere else, that right?” Jude breathily got through his words. You nodded as he cupped your chin and pulled you off him with a mischievous glint in his eyes. The sight of you with drool pooling in the corners of your mouth, tears on your lash line had him in a lustful haze. He roughly pulled you up and pressed his lips to yours.

"Please, fuck me. Remind me I’m yours." You begged him pulling away from the kiss. He wasted no time. He pulled his shirt over his head. Once his shirt was off, he picked you up, his hands sliding over the curve of your ass, down under it, and to the backs of your thighs, lifting you off the ground. He wrapped your legs around his waist, settling you there. He reached down and positioned himself at your entrance. Without direction you dragged Judes fingers up to your mouth taking two of them into your mouth. You moaned, wrapping your lips around his fingers as his length slowly filled you. He took his hand from your mouth both his hands palming your ass, pressing your back to the door in a fury.

"Oh my god, fuck.” you cried out as he entered you in one swift motion, filling you completely. Jude's hands gripped your hips, guiding your movements as he began to thrust.

“Mmm. That’s it. That’s the spot, huh?” He smugly smiled as he found your g spot in an instant. Your face scrunched, and jaw slacked with a nod confirming. “Feel so good, baby" He grunted, his breath ragged. "So tight and wet around my cock.” He groaned. Your body felt like it was on fire as you pushed your heel into his muscular back.

“Jude, I fucking love y… your cock.” You whined, almost catching yourself out as you bounced on his cock. You called out his name as he hit all the spots perfectly fit for him. The pace, the force, every stroke was everything you could ever want. You leaned in, your lips slamming into his again as he continued to pound into you.

“God, you love it like this, don’t you?” He growled moving his lips, kissing up your jaw to your ear before nippling on it, then grazing his teeth down your neck. Your pussy tightened around his cock. You were a mess as Jude guided your hips. You were barreling into an orgasm. Jude pushed you harder against the door letting one of his hands drop in between you two to find your clit. “That’s right. Cum f’me baby.” And with that your body convulsed as you came undone on Jude’s cock. The coil in your stomach snapped, the pressure sending Jude over the edge with you. Your orgasms hit you like waves, crashing over your bodies. Your nails dug into his muscular back as you rode the intense pleasure. Jude's grip on your hips tightened, holding you in place as he continued to thrust. Your bounces slowing down to a stop. His sweat-coated chest heaved as he lazily smiled at you with a look that you could describe as love.

"YN, I..." Jude's words turned into a growl as he emptied himself deep within you, his hot cum filling your core. As your bodies calmed, he pulled you close, his lips finding yours in a passionate kiss until he pulled away almost breathless. "I understand tonight…" he whispered against your mouth. Your bodies still buzzing from the intensity of it all. The air between you felt different—charged but also heavy with unspoken words. Jude looked down at you, his gaze soft but serious, the remnants of that fiery possessiveness from earlier still lingering in his eyes. His fingers traced gentle lines along your though, as though grounding himself in your presence. “But you know…” he began, his voice low and thoughtful, “I’m not blind to it. I know how everyone looks at you.” You turned your head slightly to meet his eyes, sensing there was more he needed to say. He exhaled, his hand pausing on your skin. “You’re so… God, you’re the most gorgeous girl in Madrid. In Manhattan, too. I see it in their faces—my friends, strangers, people at clubs. They all see what I see. And I know…” His voice wavered for a moment, the vulnerability seeping through, “I know how coveted you are. I know what it must feel like for them, knowing I’m the one who gets to be with you.” You blinked, taken aback by the rawness in his words. He wasn’t just talking about your looks—there was something deeper there, something that made your heart ache in the best possible way. Jude leaned in closer, his forehead resting lightly against yours. “But it’s not just that I get to sleep with the hottest girl in Madrid or Manhattan,” he continued softly, “I don’t take for granted that I’m the one who gets to know you. Like really know you, behind the glass; your fears, your dreams, the way your mind works, the things that make you laugh. No one else knows you like that. And I’m so fucking lucky you let me be that guy.” His admission hung between you, raw and real, and you felt your chest tighten with emotion. You could see the sincerity in his eyes, the way he looked at you like you were his world, his everything. “I don’t take any of this for granted,” he whispered, brushing a strand of hair away from your face. “Not for a second and I’ll never stop being grateful for that.” You swallowed hard, your throat tightening as your fingers instinctively reached for his, intertwining them with yours. It wasn’t just about the jealousy or the possessiveness—it was about the way he saw you, understood you, and cherished you in a way no one else ever had. You smiled softly, your heart full, knowing that despite everything—the flirting, the teasing—it all came back to this: the two of you, here, together, holding onto something that felt too precious to let slip away.

"Thank you. That means a lot to me.” You smiled, a little breathless, as you realized the depth of your submission to this man. The night's events had transformed into a powerful reminder of the intense connection you shared, leaving you both satisfied and utterly spent. This was a little fun though, no, Jude?” You giggled. He nodded very matter of factly. You headed upstairs drunk off a little bit of tequila still lingering and very drunk off him. You were slightly mortified he just fucked you in the foyer but it was late. It was morning essentially and that made it all the more risky.

“It’s okay.” He whispered in your ear reassuring you as he walked behind you, his arms wrapped around you as you carried half of your clothes upstairs in your hands. “You just can’t help yourself. No one can make you feel the way I can and you just were so horny for me. You couldn’t wait.”He kissed your bare shoulder.

“Oh my god! Shut up honestly.” You groaned through a quiet giggle. “You came home and were all over me because you are the most jealous man I’ve ever met. I spoke french to Aurelien for 5 minutes and you came home and you just couldn’t help yourself because no one can make you feel the way I can and you just were so horny for me.” You quipped reciting his words back to him. He kissed your hair and then rolled his eyes. “You couldn’t wait.” You kissed your teeth.

“Yeah yeah yeah. You got me but let’s face it we’re very good at fucking. It’d be a shame to waste such talent, hmm?” He kissed behind your ear. You shook your head as you entered his bedroom. Jude turned you around to face him, his hands framing your face as he looked into your eyes. “Y/N, jokes aside. I don’t want anyone else, and I don’t want you with anyone else, yeah?” Jude honestly told you. Your breath caught in your throat at the intensity of his words. For so long, you had been afraid to let yourself fall, afraid of getting hurt, but now, hearing Jude’s confession, you felt your own walls start to crumble. You nodded terrified agreeing to this all over again.

The weeks that followed your decision to stay in Madrid were filled with a rare kind of bliss. You and Jude had found a rhythm that felt effortless, your days punctuated by moments of quiet intimacy and your nights by passion that left you both breathless. It was easy to forget the outside world when it was just the two of you, cocooned in your own little bubble. But the bubble had to burst eventually, and it did with the arrival of Trent and Whitney. Whitney and Trent arrived in Madrid with an energy of excitement, and Denise warmly welcomed them into the house. After a quick chat downstairs, Denise mentioned that Jude was upstairs in the shower, you probably just in the room, and sent them up to put their luggage away in one of the guest rooms. As Trent carried the bags up, Whitney trailed behind him, admiring the home decor. When they reached the guest room, Trent placed the suitcases down and stretched. He wandered over to the large window, taking in the view of the rolling Spanish hills. But something else quickly caught his attention. From his vantage point, Trent could see directly onto the balcony connected to Jude's bedroom-and there, completely unaware of their audience, were you and Jude. Jude's hands were gripping your ass, your legs wrapped around his waist as he fucked into you. Kissing you deeply, the two of you lost in each other, the moment heated and intimate under the Spanish sun. The sound of music and the running shower from inside Jude's room clearly meant to mask the intensity of your connection from anyone nearby.

"Erm… Whit baby, this is one hell of a shower Jude is having." Trent blinked a few times, taken aback for a split second, and then burst out laughing. Barely able to contain himself, he waved her over. Whitney walked over, curious, and followed Trent's gaze.

"Oh my God!" she gasped, immediately reaching to cover Trent's eyes with a mix of shock and laughter. The second she saw what was happening, her eyes widened. "Don't look, T! Oh my God!"

"Hey, they're just... taking advantage of the view. It's their balcony." Trent just chuckled, shaking his head. Whitney, now laughing, peeked again and then sighed, still mortified but amused.

“Well, I guess that's why Y/N enjoys Madrid so much." She kept her hand over Trent's eyes, playfully scolding him, but neither could stop laughing. They both backed away from the window, sharing a knowing look. "Let's let them, uh... finish Jude's 'shower," Whitney said, still giggling. They left the guest room quietly, trying their best not to make any noise as they made their way back downstairs, barely able to contain their laughter at the unexpected scene they'd stumbled upon. Trent had a game against Atletico Madrid yesterday and Whitney decided to tag along and extend their stay. Both their visit and your reconciliation was the perfect excuse for a party. Jude’s sprawling villa in the hills outside Madrid ideal for the occasion—luxurious, private, and large enough to accommodate the guest list that had grown exponentially over the days leading up to the event. The night of the party, the house was transformed. Lights twinkled in the trees that lined the driveway, the pool was lit up in shades of blue, and music pulsed through the speakers around the expansive outdoor space. People had come in droves—teammates, moreover athletes in general, influencers, and socialites. The kind of crowd that made the party a must-attend event, even if you didn’t know the host personally. As the night wore on, the atmosphere grew more electric. The heat of the day had settled into a balmy evening, but the temperature inside the house was rising. Drinks were flowing, laughter echoed off the walls, and the music was loud enough to vibrate through the floors. It was the kind of party where everyone was vying for attention, where girls dressed to the nines tried to catch the eye of one of the many footballers in attendance. But Jude was oblivious to most of it. He stood off to the side, leaning against a column with a drink in hand, his eyes never straying far from you. You were talking with Whitney near the pool, your laugh carrying over the noise, and Jude felt a warmth in his chest that had nothing to do with the alcohol. You were radiant tonight, your Ferragamo woven fringe mini dress perfectly draping off your body, your hair slicked back into a low bun exposing your bare back and patina Bottega drop earrings. He wasn’t the only one who noticed, either—he had seen more than a few guys look your way, their eyes lingering a little too long for his liking.

“Hell of a party, mate,” Trent said, coming over, clapping Jude on the back and pulling him out of his reverie, a wide grin on his face as he surveyed the scene. “Who knew you had a knack for this. Give Whit a run for her money. Don’t tell her I said that though.” Trent laughed. Jude followed with a chuckle, but his gaze was still fixed on you.

“Yeah, it’s something. But I really just had Y/N sort it,” he replied, though his mind was elsewhere. The atmosphere was warm, though slightly chaotic. After the rocky week you’d had, being surrounded by friends seemed like the perfect distraction but you were proving to be a distraction for him right now.

“They know how to throw a party, they know how to dress for one as well, hmm?” Trent remarked, nodding toward you and Whitney. He followed Jude’s line of sight and smirked. “Can’t say I blame you for being so distracted, I’m in the same boat.”

“She’s so amazing, bro. I really like having her here” he said, his tone more serious than he intended. “A lot more than I ever thought I would.” Jude tore his eyes away from you long enough to give Trent a look. Trent raised an eyebrow, but didn’t press.

“Yeah, mate, course,” he said, taking a sip of his drink. “Just don’t let her catch you brooding in the corner all night. Girls like her don’t like that.” Trent joked. He wasn’t really even sure what he meant but the sentiment stood. Jude didn’t need the reminder. He knew exactly how rare you were, and the thought of losing you—even in the smallest way—was enough to make him feel uneasy. But he wasn’t about to let his jealousy ruin the night, not when things had been so good between you. As if sensing his thoughts, you looked over at him, your eyes meeting his across the crowd. You gave him a smile, the kind that made his heart skip a beat, and excused yourself from Whitney to make your way over to him. Jude straightened up as you approached, his earlier tension melting away in your presence.

“Who knew the host was so handsome.” You giggled. “Enjoying the party?” you asked, your voice soft as you reached him, your hand lightly brushing against his arm.

“Not as much as I’m enjoying looking at you,” Jude replied, his lips curving into a smile as he leaned in closer, his breath warm against your ear. “You’re the most beautiful thing here, you know that?”

“You always know what to say, don’t you?” you teased, though the compliment had clearly flustered you. You blushed, your eyes sparkling as you looked up at him.

“Only when it comes to you,” he said, his hand finding the small of your back, drawing you closer to him. Jude’s smile widened. For a moment, the noise of the party faded into the background, and it was just the two of you, wrapped up in each other. Jude could feel the familiar pull between you, the magnetic connection that made it impossible to stay away from you for long. He wasn’t sure what it was about you that had gotten so deep under his skin, but he knew he didn’t want it to end. “I’m glad you stayed, angel” he said softly, his voice barely audible over the music. “Thank you so much for coming back.” He sadly smiled.

“I’m glad I stayed too,” you replied, your hand coming up to rest on his chest. “And just so you know, you’re the only one I’m interested in tonight.” You looked up at him, your expression softening under his gaze. Jude felt a surge of relief at your words, the last remnants of his earlier jealousy fading away.

“Good,” he murmured, leaning down to press a gentle kiss to your lips. “Because you’re the only one I want.” He whispered and your heart fluttered. Jude’s house was alive with the sounds of music, laughter, and clinking glasses. Both of you dancing around the fragile reconciliation you both had recently achieved. But, despite the fun, the air held a lingering tension. The party was filled with faces you didn’t recognize, girls who clearly had no idea Jude was seeing anyone.

"Where’s Jude at?" One girl leaned in closer to ask Toby. As the evening progressed, a group of girls gathered near him, drinks in hand, casually glancing around the room.

"He’s with his missus." Without hesitation, Toby, always quick with a response, looked up from his drink, scanning the room.

"Wait, Jude Bellingham is seeing someone?" one of them asked, almost incredulously. “The Jude Bellingham?” The girl almost choked. The girls exchanged surprised glances, clearly caught off guard by the revelation. Toby nodded, eyes scanning the room until they landed on you and Jude. You’d retreated to the corner of Jude’s living room, away from the crowd. You were curled up together on a sofa now, Jude’s arm draped casually yet protectively around your shoulders, both of you wrapped up in quiet conversation. The soft glow of the lights made the scene look almost too intimate for the party’s bustling energy. From across the room, you caught the subtle shift in attention and noticed the group of girls whispering while throwing glances in your direction. Toby’s gaze followed, a smirk playing at his lips as if he knew something they didn’t.

"Maybe we should sit up or, I don’t know, tone it down? People are staring," you whispered, your voice laced with hesitation. Feeling the weight of the eyes on you, you shifted uncomfortably and turned to Jude. But Jude, caught up in the comfort of having you close, shook his head and tightened his grip on you.

“Let them look,” he said casually, brushing a kiss against your temple. "I don’t care what anyone thinks. All I care about is you." You tried to protest again, your self-consciousness rising, but Jude silenced you with a smile that left no room for doubt. He wasn’t hiding you, and for once, you weren’t a secret. Toby, seeing the whole scene unfold, raised his drink in a silent toast from across the room, acknowledging the quiet but significant shift in Jude but there was something almost taunting about it. It wasn’t just about you anymore—it was about you both, together. And whether or not the girls liked it, Jude wasn’t about to let you go and you were trying to read just what Toby thought about that.

As the night wore on, the party continued to buzz around you, the laughter and chatter of the guests creating a lively backdrop to the quieter, more intimate moments Jude and you were sharing. You hadn’t moved in hours. The couch you settled on was plush and inviting, a perfect spot to unwind and steal a few moments for yourselves.You nestled into Jude’s side, your head resting on his chest as he draped an arm around your shoulders. The warmth of his body against your was comforting, grounding you in the midst of the chaos that swirled around you. You were close enough to the action to still feel a part of it, but far enough away that you could have a conversation without having to shout over the noise. You just sat there, content in each other’s presence. Jude absentmindedly played with a tassel of your dress twirling it around his finger as he looked down at you. There was something so peaceful about moments like this—when it was just the two of you, and the rest of the world seemed to fade away. After a while, Jude broke the comfortable silence.

“You know,” he began, his voice soft but carrying an undertone of seriousness, “I’ve been thinking a lot about us lately.” He cooed.

“What about us?” you asked, your voice gentle as you studied his expression. You tilted your head up to look at him, your eyes curious. Jude paused for a moment, choosing his words carefully. Embarrassingly you were hoping he’d give you some sort of label.

“I don’t think I’ve ever felt this way about anyone before,” he admitted, his tone earnest. “You’re… different. You’re like a piece of art—one of those masterpieces that people spend their whole lives searching for. And somehow, I got lucky enough to find you.” Jude’s expression was serious.

“That’s quite the compliment,” you said, your voice touched with amusement. “You’re saying I belong in a museum?” You felt your heart swell at his words, a soft teasing smile playing on your lips.

“Not a museum,” he corrected, his fingers brushing lightly against your cheek. Jude chuckled, shaking his head. “You belong in a private collection, where only the right person can fully appreciate you. You’re not just beautiful, Y/N. You’re one of a kind.” he mused.

“I think you’re giving me too much credit,” you murmured, though his words had clearly touched you. Your smile widened, but there was a hint of shyness in your eyes. It wasn’t a label but this was a sweet conversation.

“No, I’m not,” Jude insisted, his voice firm but tender. “I mean it. There’s something about you… something I can’t quite put into words. It’s like you’ve got all these layers, and every time I think I’ve figured you out, there’s something new. Like those paintings that reveal something different every time you look at them.”

“You really know how to flatter a girl, don’t you?” you teased, though the affection in your voice was unmistakable. “But you know, I’ve always thought of you as more of a sculpture. Strong, defined… but there’s a softness to you that people don’t see unless they get close enough.” You let out a soft laugh, shaking your head slightly. Jude’s expression softened at your words, his thumb gently stroking your shoulder.

“I like that,” he said quietly. “I like that you see me that way. But I think you’re the first one to get that close to me, Y/N. You’re the artist or maybe the gallerist I guess who brings me to life.” He smiled. You felt a lump form in your throat at the sincerity in his voice. You had always been careful with your heart, afraid of letting anyone get too close, but with Jude, it was different. He saw you in a way no one else did, and that scared you as much as it thrilled you.

“You’re important to me, Jude,” you confessed, your voice barely above a whisper. “More than I ever expected. Sometimes I feel like I’m still figuring out what this is… what we are. But I know one thing for sure—I don’t want to lose you.” Jude’s grip on your tightened slightly, as if he were afraid you might slip away.

“You won’t lose me,” he promised, his voice firm. “I’m not going anywhere, Y/N. I want to be here, with you, angel, for as long as you’ll have me, as long as you want to stay.” He gently cooed. You leaned up, pressing a soft kiss to his lips, a silent acknowledgment of everything you were feeling but couldn’t quite say. When you pulled back, you rested your forehead against his, closing your eyes as you let yourself savor the moment.

“Stay with me tonight,” Jude whispered, his breath warm against your skin. “Just like this. I don’t care about the party or anyone else here. I just want you.” He cooed.

“I’m not going anywhere, Judey.” You nodded with a smirk, your voice catching as you replied. As you stayed there with him, Jude felt fear wash over him. Just how smitten he was was ringing every alarm bell. He could feel it and although with you in his arms settling his racing heart he began to panic watching his other world spin around him and you creating a whole new one for him that just didn’t seem to be able to merge. You stayed curled up in Jude’s arms for what felt like hours, the world outside your little bubble fading away as the party continued to swirl around you. The music, the laughter, the clinking of glasses—it all became background noise to the comforting rhythm of Jude’s heartbeat under your ear. You could have stayed like that forever, letting the warmth of his body seep into you, but eventually, the effects of the wine and the hours of sitting began to catch up with you.

“I think I drank a little too much,” you murmured, your voice a mix of amusement and self-awareness as you glanced up at him. You shifted slightly, trying to ignore the way the room tilted ever so slightly as you moved.

“Yeah? You’ve had a long day, angel” he said gently, brushing a stray lock of fallen hair behind your ear. “Why don’t you go up to my bed? I’ll be up in a bit.” Jude’s eyes softened as he looked down at you, a small smile tugging at the corners of his lips.

“Are you sure?” you asked, your voice laced with reluctance. You hesitated, not wanting to leave the safety of his embrace, but the warmth of the alcohol and the late hour were making you drowsy.

“Positive,” Jude replied, his tone taking on a more playful edge as he leaned in close, his lips brushing against your ear. “And angel… make sure you’re ready for me when I get there.” He whispered. The suggestion in his voice sent a shiver down your spine, and you felt a blush creep up your neck. You nodded, your heart fluttering as you pulled yourself away from him and stood up, feeling slightly unsteady on your feet. Jude watched you go, his eyes following you as you made your way through the crowded room. His heart clenched painfully in his chest as he watched your retreating figure. How could he miss someone who was still within his line of sight? The feeling was so foreign, so intense, that it almost overwhelmed him. He had never felt this way about anyone before—so completely taken, so utterly captivated. As soon as you disappeared from view, the atmosphere of the party seemed to rush back at him all at once. Like the crack of thunder. The noise, the lights, the people—it was a jarring contrast to the quiet intimacy he had just shared with you. He took a deep breath, trying to steady himself, but the realization of how deeply you had gotten under his skin left him reeling. Before he could process his thoughts, he felt a heavy hand clap down on his shoulder. Jude turned to see Toby grinning at him with a knowing look in his eyes.

“Mate,” Toby said, his voice tinged with amusement, “you’re down so bad. Oh my days.” He laughed.

“What are you talking about?” he replied, trying to sound nonchalant. Jude gave a half-hearted chuckle, shrugging off the comment even as it hit closer to home than he would have liked.

“Don’t be daft” Toby continued, his grin widening. “I saw the way you were looking at her. You’re a complete melt, bro. I never thought I’d see the day.” He raised his eyebrows.

“It’s not like that,” he said, though his voice lacked conviction. “She’s just… different.” Jude rolled his eyes, trying to brush off the teasing, but he couldn’t shake the feeling Toby’s words had stirred up inside him. Jude felt everything slipping as he was being called out. He felt out of control and he needed to get back to being Jude.

“Different? You mean she’s got you tied in knots, mate. Don’t tell me you’re getting serious about this girl. What are you doing, bro?” Toby raised his eyebrow once more, clearly unconvinced. Jude hesitated, his mind racing. He didn’t want to admit it—to himself or to anyone else—but Toby was right. He was serious about you, more serious than he had ever been about anyone. And that scared the hell out of him.

“Nah, you’re just seeing things,” he said, clapping Toby on the back. “I’m still the same lad I’ve always been.” Not wanting to dwell on the uncomfortable truth, Jude forced a grin and tried to play it off.

“Sure, Jude. Whatever you say.” Toby snorted, clearly not buying it. “But don’t let her keep you on a leash. There’s plenty of fun to be had in Madrid, where she doesn’t live, and here tonight, if you know what I mean.” Toby nodded toward a group of girls nearby, one of whom had been eyeing Jude all night. She was pretty, with a bright smile and a confident air about her. A year ago, Jude wouldn’t have thought twice about going over to talk to her. But now… now all he could think about was you upstairs, waiting for him. But there was a part of him—small but persistent—that didn’t want to let himself be so caught up in one person. He didn’t want to be the guy who got too serious, who lost his edge. He didn’t want to be the guy who let a girl tie him down, who let himself get hurt.

“You know what? You’re right,” he said, though the words felt wrong on his tongue. “Gonna go see what’s out there. Nothing’s changed here.” In a moment of defiance—against Toby’s teasing, against the feelings he couldn’t quite understand—Jude made a decision. He gave Toby a grin that didn’t quite reach his eyes. Toby laughed, clearly pleased with himself, and gave Jude an encouraging shove in the direction of the girl. Jude hesitated for a split second, his heart tugging him in the opposite direction, but then he pushed it down. He wouldn’t let himself get too deep, too invested. Not yet. With that thought in mind, Jude walked over to the girl, putting on his most charming smile, but even as he made small talk, his mind was elsewhere—on the girl who was waiting for him upstairs, the girl who had somehow managed to make him feel things he wasn’t ready to feel.

•

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

Next part - Chapter 8 - Last Night xx

[resident-idiot-simp]

God of death Logan and his right hand Wade a man who can't die

Ft: @existentialgaybirdnerd

He's a mercenary still and maybe he met Logan during the weapon X offshoot thing. And then he ends up doing not only mercenary jobs but also jobs for Logan

Bird: Logan was trying to help along all the souls left after the fire and was trying to help Wade when he woke up

He gets glimpses during the torture but absolutely he finally sees him for real after the fire

Bird: Logan liked Wade because he sent so many people to him and was funny, so seeing him during and after the fire and unable to help him broke his heart. When Wade gasped awake, Logan nearly cheered for the human who had once again escaped his grasp

And Wade immediately blurts out that he is the hottest thing he's ever seen

Bird: "Am I in fucking heaven because holy shit I think I'm looking at God"

And Logan can't help but be flattered because no one ever looks at him with anything other than fear

After this Logan says he will help Wade get his revenge and that's exactly what he does. He has a grudge against these people anyway because of how many innocents are being slaughtered.

He is there for every single death and Wade treats it like courting.

Bird: Logan watches as Wade kills every person and whispers suggestions for questions and suit designs in his ear, amusing himself with Al's sass. Twist: that's who Wade is talking to during 4th wall breaks

When Francis dies Logan is ecstatic and immediately grabs his soul and pretty much eviscerates him. Francis has about 2 seconds before he realizes what's going on and Logan just waves at him and then Wade waves at him. And Francis has the biggest OH SHIT moment in existence.

Bird: And then Wade gets up and the Vanessa thing happens and when the other two walk away he asks how she would feel being in a throuple with death

Vanessa the legend she just shrugs and asks if death is hot

Bird: Death goes on a vacation (me: Or alternatively not quite a vacation but he is regularly around.) to be in a happy throuple for a couple of years. Pretends to be a simple mutant

Bird: He doesn't need to do TOO much because he's got helpers anyway. Death is a lot of paperwork but he collects souls sometimes for fun. So he'll just bring paperwork to their apartment and parallel play while they all do their own thing

Vanessa when she first sees him says this was the best decision of her life. While Logan immediately likes her because of how similar she is to Wade

Weasel absolutely notices Wade doesn't talk into thin air when Logan is around and he's getting suspicious.

Bird: One day Logan looks at Weasel as he's trying to figure it out and winks at him and disappears

WEASEL FREAKS OUT Wade and Vanessa play dumb

Bird: Wade: "he went to the bathroom like 2 minutes ago man, what do you meant he disappeared?"

Weasel would write it off because of a mutation but he already damn well knows Logan's mutation. He has to It's best friend code to know everything about your best friends partner or partners in this case

Bird: Logan will go invisible and just fuck with things behind the bar when it's a slow night, making Weasel think the place is haunted. and he always wins the dead pools and no one knows how

(Dp 2)

Bird: Logan is busy or indisposed and Vanessa wouldn't necessarily die, but Wade does kinda lose his shit because holy hell someone tried to kill my gf and now there's a boy in trouble.

Ooohhh what it could be is because of Cable coming into existence during the past it's screwing things up for Logan on his side

Logan ends up outing himself when Cable appears in the apartment with his idea.

Logan just appears and starts cursing Cable out because DO YOU KNOW THE NIGHTMARE THAT YOU JUST CAUSED FOR ME?!

[tgmsunmontue]

Season to Taste - 15/? WIP

Explicit Hangster - Celebrity Chef Bradley and Naval Aviator Jake Seresin who have a relationship spanning the globe before they realize how tightly bound they are to one another. Heading into this little world.

PROLOGUE/ONE TWO THREE FOUR FIVE SIX SEVEN EIGHT NINE

TEN ELEVEN TWELVE THIRTEEN FORTEEN

CHAPTER FIFTEEN

                He laughs as he enters the restaurant, Leandro and Silvia’s voices calling out to him and he’s very aware that they’ve arranged a party later for his birthday and also his new residency visa. He hadn’t been paying attention, hadn’t thought about it, until Ice had raised it last year in one of their phone calls and told him that his passport was going to expire and he needed to maybe consider coming home. Except he’d been gone for nearly a decade and it didn’t feel like home anymore. He hadn’t been able to fathom it.

                Then Ice had brought all the paperwork to him, walking into the restaurant himself and Bradley had hugged him so tightly because the anger has long since faded but the pride at not wanting to apologize for running away was still there. He has no regrets about running away, or how his life has turned out so far. He’s happy and has found a big family that has just enveloped him and made him one of their own and he can’t imagine his life being better in any way. Vi is his best friend, along with Giacomo, the three of them doing a road trip to Roma to the American Embassy to apply for his new passport in the summer.         

                “What are going to do to celebrate?”

                “Well, I know it’s maybe a little dramatic, but I thought of getting a tattoo.”

                “Yeah? What of?”

                “I’ve got some ideas.”

…            …            …

                Bradley watches as Jake dips every single piece of potato into sauce before eating it. He can’t believe how comfortable and happy he feels right now. They clear away the plates and wash up, before settling on the sofa, Jake’s head in his lap. They’re going to watch documentaries, because that and movies are apparently the only thing Jake likes to watch, which explains why he’s never seen Bradley on TV if this is what he prefers. Bradley himself doesn’t usually have time to watch anything, so it’s nice, just the novelty of sitting there and enjoying being close to someone else. He doesn’t even notice he’s snuck his hand beneath Jake’s t-shirt and been rubbing his thumb back and forth softly over his stomach until Jake’s hand covers his and he stills, goes to almost apologize and move his hand but Jake’s hand is firm, holding Bradley’s hand in place.

                “You’ve already ordered off the menu tonight, are you that insatiable you’re going back for seconds?”

                “Technically I think it’s thirds. And you did call yourself an all you can eat buffet,” Bradley jokes, but he really hadn’t been aiming to start anything, had simply been enjoying touching and being close.

                “Well, this buffet is closed sorry. Maybe after I’ve had a couple hours sleep we can reassess.”

                Bradley shakes his head like he’s somehow disappointed despite it not being the case, and he grins down at Jake’s upside-down face.

                “Mmm… it’s okay. If it gets bad enough I can always go self-service.”

                Jake snorts and Bradley can’t help but grin, it’s easy and fun and while a little part of him is worried it’s going to burn fast and bright before crashing and burning he can’t find it in himself to care. He doesn’t want to miss out on the right-now because of something that might happen.

                “Oh no… no no no. Hmm, wait. Maybe I wouldn’t mind watching that. Was going to say I could take care of that for you, but maybe I’ll just be lazy and watch.”

                “Well, it’s all hypothetical anyway, I wasn’t actually angling for anything more than a kiss…”

                “Ah, well, I am always happy to kiss you. You know, sticking with your food and sex philosophy… for me sauce is like kissing. No one needs sauce to make the food taste better, sometimes the food can be amazing without it. And I can eat it without it. But I’m always going to want to add sauce…”

                “And you’re always going to want kissing too huh?”

                “I wouldn’t say no.”

                “Come here then…” Bradley says, and he’s smiling as he bends down and presses his lips against Jake’s, his entire body thrumming with happiness as Jake’s nose bumps his chin and he pulls back, a sudden thought occurring to him.

                “You wouldn’t have sauce with dessert would you?”

                “Leo, babe, dessert is all the hand-holding, and cuddling and gentle touches. Of course I want sauce with them.”

                Bradley blinks, shakes his head.

                “No, I mean actual real literal dessert, like brownie or… ice cream.”

                “Oh. Huh. Well… I haven’t tried sauce with any desserts, but also I don’t have the biggest sweet tooth. Maybe because I can’t add sauce.”

                “Mmm. You are pretty sweet already.”

                “Oh, I know dozens of people who would disagree with you there but I’m glad you think so. Don’t mind being sweet with you…”

…            …            …

                Other than their serious conversation about starting a relationship, they haven’t had any deep and meaningful conversations. Yet. Until yesterday afternoon when he’d picked Leo up from Maria’s and then… found himself dating the guy. They’ve spent four nights out of five together, nearly every meal, and he’s well aware that he’s pretty much living with Leo in his not-so-little rental accommodation for the duration of his stay. He likes that it’s a neutral space for the time being, which has been good. Especially as he doesn’t exactly have a place of his own, his bedroom in Nicola’s apartment not exactly the most useful of places when he wants to hook up with someone, mainly because the apartment also usually contains Nicola herself.

                But if he’s going to date Leo, try having a relationship with distance between them, then he wants to share his little piece of home in his sister’s apartment. Show Leo the farm properly, because he’d actually seemed pretty interested in that yesterday when he’d mentioned it. He already knows that Leo’s parents are a minefield, but he’s going to ask because he’s going to gut himself in return. He knows he’s going to have to share bits that don’t make him happy, if they’re going to actually going to make a serious go of this. But he’s going to start small.

                “So, want to tell me about why you have a giant fuck off rooster tattooed on your leg?”

                “You don’t want to make a couple of guesses first?” Leo asks, rolling in the bed and giving Jake a mischievous grin and eyebrow waggle. God the man is a giant dork.

                “Because you’re a cock?” Jake asks, trying to make his expression sweet.

                “Close…”

                “Well, you’re not doing any false advertising.”

                “It’s my family name.”

                Jake frowns, because okay, he knows Leo’s name is Bradley Bradshaw, but he answers to Leo just as easily, which he knows is short for Leonardo…

                “My Italian family name. It’s Gallo, which means… well, direct translation is rooster.”

                “And a non-direct translation?” Jake asks. Leo grins again, looking smug.

                “Strong voice… good in bed…”

                “Oh, so you are a cock.”

                “I did say you were close.”

…            …            …

                He has to leave Leo in bed, which sucks for so many reasons but Leo looks fucked out and happy, already half-asleep and Jake presses a kiss to his bare shoulder.

                “I’ll be back in a few hours. In time for lunch. Let me know if there’s anything you need from the farm or grocery store…”

                He gets a muffled grunt for his trouble and Leo just shoves his head further into the pillow. Jake grins and heads for the door. He should be gone for about four hours to help his sisters on the farm. They have workers, but there’s always more work to be done and while many of them have other jobs they’re all still local and he gets to leave for months on end, and not have to deal with the realities of… home. He still needs to talk to Leo about that. Try and have a conversation that doesn’t lead to them immediately fucking. It’s a tall order. Maybe that’s where the distance might be a good thing.

                He pulls his truck into the yard and looks around at the assembled vehicles and rolls his eyes. Fucking great. They’re all here, the Seresin-sister grapevine clearly working as intended. God, he hopes Leo was serious about not getting scared off easy. He’s never introduced someone to his sisters before. Not someone that he’s actually serious about, and for all the shaking up that Leo has done in the last week it’s like a snow globe slowly settling and revealing the scene. He likes the view so far.

                He sits in his truck and drums his fingers against the steering wheel, wonders if he should maybe just start it again and drive away. He wouldn’t put it past them to drive after him, although Sandra and Amanda probably have their kids with them, so they might not chase after him. He sucks in a breath and throws his shoulders back. He can do this. His sisters love him and it’s just going to be embarrassing and maybe he can get the worst of it out of the way now and tomorrow night, when they actually meet Leo, they’ll manage to not humiliate him.

                He won’t hold his breath.

SIXTEEN

[anna-the-undertaker]

Gn Reader who is a monster hunter.  So they wear a full set of armor at all time. They have swords that are made out of the claws of a ice dragon.  Reader has no fear and is willing take on any challenge. They keep looking for demons/monster to fight.  🗡️O(👀 )O

This was such a joy to write! It took me back to my roots when I first started writing for Dragon Age. Thank you so much for the request. enjoy! :)

Forged in Frost and Steel

A Walking Fortress

MC is rarely seen without their full set of armor—an intricate and heavy suit that reflects their years of experience as a monster hunter. The armor, engraved with runes and symbols of protection, glows faintly in the dark. It’s scarred and battered in some places, proof of the many battles they’ve fought, but they wear it with pride. Every scratch and dent tells a story, and they treat it like a second skin. Beneath that armor, though, is someone who’s always ready for action. They’ve trained their body to handle the weight effortlessly, moving with a surprising grace despite the heavy metal that encases them. When the brothers first meet MC, they can’t help but be impressed—and a little intimidated—by the sheer presence they exude.

Swords of Ice Dragon Claws

MC’s twin swords are a sight to behold, crafted from the claws of an ancient ice dragon they once defeated in the frozen peaks. The blades shimmer with a frosty sheen, and when they draw them, the temperature in the room seems to drop several degrees. These weapons are not only incredibly sharp but also infused with the dragon’s icy power, allowing MC to freeze their enemies in battle with a single slash. They carry the swords proudly, often spinning them with practiced ease. The brothers are fascinated by the craftsmanship of the swords, though they’re all a little wary of the cold energy they give off.

Fearless to the Core

MC is the type of person who runs toward danger, not away from it. They’ve built their entire life around hunting down monsters, demons, and anything that poses a threat. Fear isn’t a concept they entertain—if anything, they thrive on the thrill of a challenge. Lucifer notices immediately that MC never hesitates, no matter the situation, and while he’s impressed, he’s also slightly concerned. After all, bravery can be a double-edged sword. "You need to learn to assess the risk," he warns, but MC just smirks and replies, "Risk is what makes it fun." Mammon, though nervous, can’t help but admire their confidence, while Levi thinks they’re straight out of one of his favorite fantasy games.

Always Looking for a Fight

Whenever they’re not on a mission, MC is searching for their next challenge. Whether it’s facing off against a particularly strong demon or taking on the next dangerous monster roaming the Devildom, they’re constantly on the lookout. If the brothers mention any local legends or rumors about monsters, MC immediately perks up. "Where?" is their first question, followed by, "How soon can we leave?" This relentless drive for battle often catches the brothers off guard. Even Beel, who’s known for his strength, is surprised by how casually MC takes on tasks that would terrify others. Asmo jokes that MC’s hobby is "collecting battle scars" while Satan appreciates their sheer determination.

Endless Confidence

MC’s confidence is unparalleled, to the point where nothing seems to faze them. They could be faced with a towering demon, its roar shaking the very ground beneath them, and all they would do is smirk and crack their knuckles, ready to jump into the fray. The brothers, used to being feared or revered by humans, find MC’s attitude refreshing and bewildering. MC doesn’t shy away from anyone, not even Lucifer. In fact, they have no problem challenging him head-on, which both irritates and intrigues him. "You think you can take me?" Lucifer asks, a hint of amusement in his voice. "I know I can," MC replies with a grin, their hand already resting on the hilt of their sword.

Unpredictable Tactics

In battle, MC fights with a combination of strategy and pure instinct. They’ve faced countless monsters over the years and have developed a unique fighting style that’s both efficient and unpredictable. They’ll use their environment to their advantage, launching themselves off walls or flipping over their enemies with ease. The brothers, who are used to traditional forms of combat, find themselves impressed by MC’s agility and creativity. When they see MC fight for the first time, they quickly realize why MC has survived as long as they have. Mammon often watches in awe, secretly glad that MC is on their side.

A Matter of Pride

For MC, hunting monsters and demons isn’t just a job—it’s a matter of pride. They’ve dedicated their life to perfecting their craft, and they’re proud of the reputation they’ve earned as one of the best hunters in their world. That’s why they wear their armor and swords so proudly, a constant reminder of the battles they’ve fought and won. Though they don’t brag about their victories, they don’t downplay them either. If someone asks about their latest hunt, MC will share the details with a casual confidence, often to the amazement of those listening. "You actually fought an ice dragon?" Beel asks one day, more curious than surprised. "It was a tough fight, but nothing I couldn’t handle," MC replies with a shrug, as if fighting dragons is an everyday occurrence.

A Cool-Headed Hunter

Even in the heat of battle, MC is calm and collected. Panic has no place in their life; they’ve seen too much and been through too many near-death experiences to let fear cloud their judgment. Their composure often surprises the brothers, especially in moments when others might be tempted to flee. When faced with a powerful opponent, MC will assess the situation, find the weak point, and strike with precision. This kind of confidence and tactical thinking earns them respect, even from the likes of Satan and Lucifer. "You’re not bad," Satan admits after watching MC take down a particularly difficult demon. "I’ll take that as a compliment," MC replies with a smirk.

Solitude is Second Nature

Being a monster hunter means MC is often on their own, and they’re comfortable with that. They don’t mind the solitude, finding peace in the quiet moments between hunts. But that doesn’t mean they don’t appreciate the company of others. While they may be used to traveling and fighting alone, they quickly adapt to working with the brothers. Over time, they find themselves enjoying the banter and camaraderie, though they rarely express it out loud. MC’s independent nature sometimes makes them seem distant, but the brothers quickly learn that when it matters, MC is fiercely loyal and protective of their allies.

No Fear of the Supernatural

MC has spent years hunting all sorts of monsters—dragons, werewolves, demons, you name it. So, the Devildom’s supernatural threats don’t scare them in the slightest. If anything, MC is intrigued by the opportunity to fight something new. When the brothers mention certain dangerous creatures lurking in the shadows, MC immediately wants to go after them. "What’s the point of coming here if I’m not going to test my skills?" they reason, much to the brothers’ exasperation. Levi thinks it’s cool that MC is constantly seeking out the strongest monsters, while Lucifer warns them not to bite off more than they can chew. But MC just grins, always ready for whatever comes next.

Lucifer

When Lucifer first meets MC, he can’t help but be intrigued by their presence. The sight of their imposing armor, coupled with the twin swords crafted from the claws of an ice dragon, gives them a commanding and fearsome air. He’s seen countless humans come and go in the Devildom, but none like this. MC’s confidence, their lack of hesitation in the face of danger, catches his attention immediately.

But that interest is quickly tempered by a sense of caution. Lucifer values order, discipline, and respect. MC, with their relentless thirst for battle and willingness to take on any challenge without a second thought, strikes him as reckless, someone who could disrupt the delicate balance of the Devildom if they’re not careful.

"You’re certainly bold," Lucifer says the first time MC challenges him directly. There’s a flicker of amusement in his eyes, though his tone remains authoritative. "But boldness without restraint is a dangerous thing. You should learn to think before you act."

MC, however, is unfazed. Their unwavering confidence—and perhaps their lack of reverence for Lucifer’s position—sparks something in him. While others might cower or bend to his will, MC stands firm, ready to face him, or anything else the Devildom throws at them, head-on.

Lucifer’s respect for MC grows, though he won’t admit it aloud. Their resilience, their strength, reminds him of himself in a way. However, that doesn’t mean he’ll tolerate any reckless behavior. "The Devildom is not a playground for your challenges," he warns, his voice low and commanding. "If you want to survive here, you’ll need more than just courage. You’ll need control."

Despite his stern words, Lucifer can’t deny that he finds MC’s unyielding spirit admirable. In a world where fear is the natural response to demons, MC’s fearlessness stands out. Over time, he comes to see them as an asset rather than a potential threat. Their power, if honed properly, could be invaluable.

Still, Lucifer often keeps a close eye on MC, making sure their eagerness for battle doesn’t lead them into unnecessary danger. When MC embarks on another one of their hunts, Lucifer will offer a warning, his voice calm but firm: "You may be strong, but strength without wisdom is a flaw. Don’t let your pride lead to your downfall."

In the end, Lucifer’s relationship with MC is one of both admiration and caution. He respects their strength but seeks to guide them toward balance, knowing that unchecked power can easily spiral into chaos—something he will not allow under his watch.

Mammon

From the moment Mammon lays eyes on MC, fully armored with those impressive swords made from the claws of an ice dragon, his mind starts working overtime. He notices the way they carry themselves—confident, almost fearless—and immediately sees a potential goldmine. After all, if MC is out there slaying monsters and collecting rare materials, someone should be making a profit from it, right?

"Oi, MC," he says with his trademark grin, sidling up next to them after one of their hunts. "Those ice dragon claws ya got there… they fetch a real good price, ya know? I’m talkin’ serious grim. How ‘bout ya let me handle the business side of things, huh? You do the fightin', I’ll do the sellin’. It’s a win-win!"

He’s barely even subtle about it, his eyes practically sparkling with the potential grim he could make. Mammon is quick to imagine all the rare materials MC could harvest from the monsters they hunt—rare scales, horns, fangs, and more—and how much they’d be worth in the Devildom's underground markets. His greed kicks into high gear as he starts picturing piles of grim, a smug smile spreading across his face.

"Just think of it!" he exclaims, already counting his imaginary profits. "We’ll be rich! I mean, you fight the monsters, but I’ll take care of the rest, yeah? That armor of yours is already impressive, but with a bit of extra cash, we could really upgrade it."

MC’s lack of fear and willingness to take on any challenge only fuels Mammon’s excitement. He’s constantly pestering them after every hunt, asking what kind of materials they collected and whether he can sell the remains. "What’d ya get this time? Some kinda rare fang or somethin'? Don’t be selfish now, let your pal Mammon handle the transactions!"

Of course, beneath all the talk about profit and selling materials, Mammon does genuinely care about MC. He’s the Avatar of Greed, sure, but he doesn’t want them to get hurt. Whenever MC goes off on another dangerous hunt, Mammon can’t help but feel a twinge of worry. "Don’t go doin' anything stupid out there, alright? I can’t make grim off ya if ya get yourself killed!"

Even with his schemes to make grim, Mammon keeps a close eye on MC when they’re in battle. If they ever get into a tight spot, he’s there to jump in—though he’ll deny it was out of concern and claim it was because he didn’t want to lose out on potential earnings.

But once the fight is over, it’s right back to business. "Now, about that haul from your latest kill… How ‘bout we split the profits? 80-20. I mean, I am the one who knows the best markets for this stuff!"

Leviathan

When Leviathan first meets MC, fully armored with twin swords forged from the claws of an ice dragon, his immediate thought is that they look like they’ve stepped straight out of one of his favorite fantasy RPGs or anime series. His eyes widen in awe, and he’s almost too flustered to speak at first. It’s not often that someone so cool enters his life, especially in the real world.

"Y-You… you look like a character from Magical Knights of Dragonbane! Those swords… the armor… you’re like a real-life hero!" His voice wavers between excitement and shyness, and there’s a spark of admiration in his eyes.

Despite his usual insecurity around others, Levi is completely drawn to MC because they embody everything he’s always admired in fictional heroes. Their fearlessness, their relentless pursuit of battle, and their undeniable strength hit all the right notes for him as a fan of epic stories and battles. Of course, that admiration quickly spirals into his typical jealousy.

"Not that I’m envious or anything," he mumbles, though his expression says otherwise. "I mean, I could totally do that too if I wanted to! It’s just… I don’t have those swords. Or that armor. Or the skills. But still!"

Levi starts treating MC like a real-life protagonist, often comparing them to his favorite characters from games and anime. He constantly talks about how their latest monster fight reminds him of a boss battle from Ruler of the Abyss or a particularly intense dungeon raid. "That battle you had with the three-headed demon? It’s just like the showdown in Knight’s Quest VII, where you have to defeat the Hydra! You totally pulled a legendary move back there!"

Levi’s fanboying can get a bit overwhelming, especially when he starts bombarding MC with questions about their weapons and techniques. "How did you get the claws of an ice dragon? Did you have to fight it solo? Was it like the Frozen Tundra Arc from Legend of the Snowblades?"

However, Levi’s admiration comes with his usual dose of insecurity. He’s impressed by MC’s bravery and skill but can’t help feeling a little envious. In his mind, they’re living the kind of life he’s only ever dreamed of—taking on dangerous monsters, wielding epic weapons, and being utterly fearless. "You’re so lucky," he mutters during one of their conversations, eyes downcast. "You get to be the hero in real life. I just… stay in my room and live through games."

Despite his jealousy, Levi can’t deny that MC has earned his respect. He’s fascinated by their adventures, and even though he wishes he could be as brave as them, he finds himself cheering them on from the sidelines. When MC tells him about their latest monster hunt, Levi’s eyes light up, and he listens intently, hanging on every word like it’s part of an ongoing story.

"That’s so cool," he blurts out after MC describes a particularly intense battle. "You’re like… a real-life protagonist. If this were a game, you’d definitely be the main character. I’d be… I’d be the support class, I guess." There’s a hint of self-deprecation in his voice, but it’s clear that Levi admires MC more than he lets on.

Over time, Levi even starts imagining what it would be like to join MC on their hunts, despite his fear of real-life combat. "If I ever went with you on one of your monster hunts, I’d be like the strategist or the mage, right? I’d stay in the back and cast spells while you go in with those epic swords!" He knows he’s not cut out for the front lines, but the idea of being part of the adventure appeals to him more than he’s willing to admit.

Even though Levi feels like he’ll never be as brave as MC, he slowly comes to realize that being their friend is enough. "I guess I’ll just keep being your number one fan," he says with a small smile. "Even if I’m not fighting beside you, I’ll always be here to support you, just like in the games."

In true Levi fashion, he’ll also try to get MC to play his favorite monster-hunting video games, eager to compare their real-life experience to the virtual world. "C’mon, let’s see if you can take down the Frost King in Night’s Fall! It’s just like the ice dragon you fought, except, y’know… pixelated."

Satan

When Satan first encounters MC, fully armored and wielding swords crafted from the claws of an ice dragon, his reaction is not one of awe or intimidation but of intense curiosity. Unlike the others, who might be impressed by the sheer spectacle of MC’s appearance, Satan’s mind immediately begins to analyze the practicality of it all.

"The claws of an ice dragon?" he murmurs thoughtfully, observing the swords with a critical eye. "That’s not a common material. You must have gone through considerable effort to acquire those."

Unlike Levi or Mammon, Satan isn’t concerned with how cool MC looks or how much grim they could fetch for selling parts of their kills. Instead, he’s far more interested in the intellectual aspect—how MC hunts, what techniques they use, and most importantly, the kinds of creatures they’ve encountered. For Satan, MC represents a rare opportunity to expand his knowledge of monsters and battle tactics, and that’s far more exciting than anything else.

He immediately begins asking pointed, detail-oriented questions. "How did you handle the ice dragon’s frost breath? I assume you’ve developed a method to resist extreme temperatures, given the nature of your weapons. And what about its speed? Ice dragons are known to be incredibly agile despite their size."

Satan respects MC’s abilities, but he’s also fascinated by the process behind their victories. He admires their strength, yes, but it’s their intellect and experience that truly captures his attention. To him, a successful monster hunter isn’t just someone who fights well—they’re someone who knows how to outthink their enemies, and MC’s fearlessness only enhances that aspect in his eyes.

"You approach battle with the same decisiveness I would in a pursuit of knowledge," Satan observes, the faintest hint of a smile tugging at his lips. "Calculated. Efficient. You don’t waste time with hesitation, but neither do you rush in recklessly."

However, Satan’s admiration isn’t without its critique. He’s someone who values control and precision, and while he recognizes MC’s fearlessness as a strength, he’s also quick to point out its potential pitfalls. "You’re fearless, which is commendable," he says, leaning against a bookshelf in the library as they talk. "But there’s a thin line between bravery and recklessness. You might be skilled, but even the strongest can be undone by overconfidence."

His words are not a reprimand but a cautionary lesson. Satan respects strength, but he respects wisdom even more, and he takes it upon himself to ensure that MC understands the balance between the two. "A monster hunter like you should know—monsters can be unpredictable. No amount of strength can save you from the consequences of a single miscalculation."

That said, Satan’s own curiosity sometimes leads him to ask MC to go after certain creatures, not because he wants to see them in danger, but because he’s interested in studying the monsters themselves. "There’s a particularly rare species of shadow fiend in the northern caves. I’ve been wanting to study one for some time now. Would you be up for the challenge?" He knows MC is always seeking their next hunt, and while Satan has no interest in accompanying them on the battlefield, he’s more than eager to read up on their findings.

Satan is also fascinated by MC’s lack of fear. He’s used to humans being intimidated by demons, but MC doesn’t so much as flinch in the presence of the brothers, not even Lucifer. That fearlessness intrigues him, and he can’t help but poke at it sometimes, trying to understand what drives them. "You’re not afraid of anything, are you?" he asks one day, his tone more curious than condescending. "I wonder if that’s born out of experience or if it’s simply who you are."

Over time, Satan’s respect for MC grows, not just for their strength but for their mind. He values their input, their insights on the creatures they fight, and the methods they use. In many ways, he sees MC as a kindred spirit—someone who approaches life with intellect and strategy, even if their battlefield is more physical than his.

Still, he never stops cautioning them. "Remember," he says one day after MC returns from a particularly dangerous hunt, "knowledge is your greatest weapon. Even more so than those swords."

Asmodeus

Asmodeus’s first reaction when he sees MC in their full, intimidating armor, wielding swords made from the claws of an ice dragon, is a mix of intrigue and slight distaste—though not for the reasons one might expect.

"Oh darling," Asmo says, with a dramatic sigh, giving MC’s armor a once-over. "That armor is so... functional, but it could use some flair! Have you ever thought about accessorizing? Maybe a bit of sparkle or color to liven it up?"

For Asmo, appearance is everything, and while he’s impressed by the sheer presence MC commands, he can’t help but think about how their look could be improved. To him, it’s a missed opportunity for some fabulous monster-hunting fashion.

But underneath his superficial comments, Asmo is genuinely curious about MC’s abilities. After all, they exude a confidence that even Asmodeus finds intriguing. Most humans are easily overwhelmed by the Devildom, but not MC. They’re fearless, something that both impresses and fascinates him.

"Look at you, so brave, fighting monsters and demons without a second thought," Asmo purrs, his eyes sparkling with a mix of admiration and amusement. "But darling, don’t forget to take care of your skin! All that armor must be so rough on it. You must let me give you a treatment. After all, you want to look good while fighting, don’t you?"

Despite his constant fussing over their appearance, Asmo quickly develops a soft spot for MC. He admires their boldness and their unshakable confidence, something that resonates with his own vanity and pride. Asmo is used to people fawning over him, but MC? They’re different. They don’t seem to care about his beauty the way others do, which only makes him more interested in them.

He’s often playful with them, teasing them about their relentless pursuit of danger. "Honestly, darling, you’re going to give me wrinkles with all this worry!" he says after hearing about one of their hunts. "But I guess there’s something charming about someone who’s willing to fight monsters head-on. Still, you should let me pamper you every now and then. A little self-care never hurt anyone!"

Asmo isn’t blind to MC’s strength, and while he’s not one for battles himself, he appreciates MC’s power in his own way. "You’re like the lead in one of those epic romance novels, charging into danger and saving the day," he gushes one day. "But even heroes need a break, don’t you think? Maybe a nice spa day, just the two of us?"

Though Asmo’s focus is often on beauty and luxury, he subtly keeps an eye on MC’s well-being. He doesn’t say it outright, but he does care about them, and he often expresses that care in his own, Asmodeus way. If MC ever gets injured or looks particularly tired after a hunt, Asmo will hover nearby, insisting on helping them recover, even if his methods involve an elaborate skincare routine.

And while Asmo may not be as direct as the others when it comes to acknowledging MC’s strength, he does have his moments of sincerity. One day, after watching them return victorious from yet another hunt, he smiles softly and says, "You really are incredible, you know that? Fearless, strong, and so confident. It’s... tantalizing. But promise me you won’t forget to take care of yourself, alright? I wouldn’t want to see someone as beautiful as you burn out."

Of course, the moment is short-lived as he quickly shifts back to his usual self, adding with a playful grin, "Now, let’s talk about adding some flair to that armor, shall we?"

Beelzebub

Beelzebub’s first reaction when he sees MC in their full suit of armor, wielding the massive ice dragon claw swords, is a mixture of curiosity and hunger—not for them, of course, but for the concept of power and strength they represent.

He doesn’t say much at first, observing them with his usual calm demeanor. Beel is used to sizing things up, whether it’s food or opponents, and MC’s imposing figure certainly catches his attention. "You’re strong," he says simply, with a hint of admiration in his voice. "I bet you’ve fought a lot of tough monsters."

To Beel, strength is something that commands respect, but he doesn’t idolize it like others might. In the beginning, he’s indifferent to MC, seeing them as just another human—albeit one who could probably put up a good fight if it came down to it. But as someone who has fought through hunger and struggles, Beel recognizes determination when he sees it, and MC clearly has plenty of that.

What intrigues Beel most is how calm and fearless MC is when hunting. It reminds him of himself during his hungriest moments—when survival is all that matters. "You don’t seem afraid of anything," he says one day, watching as MC polishes their weapons after a hunt. "That’s good. Fear slows you down."

Despite his initial indifference, Beel can’t help but be curious about MC’s hunting style. He’s not the type to pry, but during meals (where food is always the focus), he’ll casually ask about the monsters they’ve fought, especially if they’ve faced anything particularly tough. "So, what does an ice dragon even look like?" he asks, in between bites of his massive sandwich. "I’ve never fought one, but I bet it’s a strong opponent. What does it… taste like?"

That last question comes out unintentionally, but Beel can’t help it. His mind is always on food, and ice dragons sound like something that could make a good meal—if it weren’t for the fact that they’re not supposed to eat otherworldly creatures.

Despite his hunger-driven curiosity, Beel develops a sense of respect for MC’s strength and the way they approach battle. He’s blunt, as always, but there’s an underlying admiration when he talks to them. "I can tell you’re not just strong," he says one day. "You’re smart about how you fight. That’s important."

Beel also notices that MC is always pushing themselves, always looking for the next fight, and while he respects their drive, he also worries that they might overdo it. "You’re strong, but you should rest too," he advises, his tone gentle but firm. "It’s important to take care of yourself. Even the strongest can get worn out."

In his own quiet way, Beel becomes protective of MC. He knows what it’s like to fight through endless battles—whether it’s for survival or against his own hunger—and he doesn’t want to see someone burn out because they never take a break. "Next time you go on a hunt, let me know," he offers casually one day. "I might not be a hunter, but I’m strong. I could help if you ever need it."

And of course, Beel being Beel, he can’t resist asking one final, food-related question every now and then: "You think any of those monsters are edible?"

Belphegor

Belphegor's initial reaction to MC, clad in their heavy armor and wielding swords forged from ice dragon claws, is one of disinterest. He yawns the first time he sees them, barely glancing up from where he’s lounging in the attic. Fighting monsters? Chasing down challenges? It all sounds exhausting to him. He doesn’t understand why anyone would want to seek out danger when they could be napping instead.

"Fighting monsters for fun?" he says with a lazy drawl. "Sounds like a lot of effort for something you could just avoid." His typical apathy towards things that require energy is in full force, and he can’t comprehend why MC is always on the lookout for their next battle. To him, strength isn’t about fighting—it’s about conserving energy and doing just enough to get by.

However, despite his indifference, Belphegor’s sharp mind quickly picks up on MC’s relentless drive. It’s the exact opposite of his laid-back nature, and that contrast both confuses and amuses him. "You’re always moving, always looking for something to fight," he observes, his voice tinged with mild curiosity. "Don’t you ever get tired of it?"

Belphie doesn’t have the same admiration for strength that his brothers do, but he’s not oblivious to it either. When he finally takes the time to notice MC’s no-nonsense attitude and fearlessness, he can’t help but find it a little… excessive. "Why fight when you can just avoid the trouble altogether?" he muses, half asleep in his usual spot. "Seems to me you’re just looking for reasons to work harder than you need to."

Despite his usual teasing, Belphegor occasionally asks about MC’s hunts, if only to pass the time between naps. His questions, however, are more about their motives than the actual battles. "What’s the point of fighting all these monsters anyway?" he asks one day, leaning lazily against a pillow. "Does it make you feel more alive or something?"

It’s not that Belphie doesn’t respect MC—he just doesn’t see the appeal in their constant pursuit of danger. He’s more likely to poke fun at their endless energy than to admire their bravery. "All that running around," he says with a sleepy smirk, "you’re making me tired just talking about it."

Still, there’s a small part of Belphegor that envies MC’s drive. While he’ll never admit it, he sometimes wonders what it’s like to have that kind of unwavering determination, to constantly seek out the next challenge without hesitation. "Maybe you’re just crazy," he jokes lightly, though his half-lidded eyes suggest a deeper curiosity. "But I guess it takes a little bit of crazy to do what you do."

In typical Belphie fashion, his interactions with MC are filled with teasing, laziness, and an underlying amusement at their seemingly endless energy. "Next time you fight a monster, do it quietly," he says, half-joking. "I’d rather not be woken up by your battle cries."

However, beneath the teasing exterior, Belphegor slowly develops a grudging respect for MC. They’re not like most humans who are easily intimidated by the Devildom or the brothers. In their own way, MC’s tireless pursuit of challenges reminds Belphie of the persistence he sometimes lacks—and while he’ll never admit it, he appreciates that contrast.

But true to his personality, Belphegor would much rather nap than fight any monsters. "You go ahead and handle all the battles," he says with a lazy grin. "I’ll be here… sleeping."

Diavolo

When Diavolo first meets MC, fully clad in their formidable armor with swords forged from the claws of an ice dragon, his reaction is one of genuine excitement and curiosity. Unlike most who might feel intimidated by their imposing presence, Diavolo is immediately intrigued. His eyes light up as he takes in their confidence, their fearlessness, and the clear battle-worn nature of their gear.

"Fascinating!" he exclaims, a wide smile spreading across his face. "You’re truly unique. I’ve never seen a human so... driven to face monsters head-on. You must tell me more about your adventures."

Diavolo, being the future king of the Devildom, has encountered many powerful beings in his lifetime, but there’s something about MC’s relentless pursuit of danger that resonates with him. He respects strength, not just in terms of raw power but in character, and MC’s determination and fearlessness leave a strong impression on him. He finds their willingness to challenge even the most dangerous monsters admirable, as it reminds him of his own desire to push the boundaries of what’s possible in his realm.

"You possess an admirable quality," Diavolo says, his voice full of warmth. "The kind of courage it takes to fight monsters, especially in a place like the Devildom, is rare even among demons. And yet, here you are, unafraid and ready for your next challenge."

While Diavolo’s naturally enthusiastic, he also understands the importance of balance and self-care. As someone responsible for an entire realm, he knows the dangers of constantly pushing forward without taking a moment to reflect. He’s quick to offer advice, though it’s always tempered with kindness. "Strength is an incredible asset," he tells MC, "but even the strongest warriors need to rest. I’d hate for your potential to burn out too soon. After all, the Devildom could use someone like you for a long time to come."

Though he admires MC’s fearlessness, Diavolo also sees an opportunity to learn from them. He’s fascinated by their experiences as a monster hunter, their techniques, and the mindset that drives them to seek out battles most would shy away from. He often invites them to the castle, eager to hear their stories and discuss how their experiences might help shape the future of the exchange program.

"I think there’s much we could learn from your approach to challenges," Diavolo muses during one of their discussions. "You possess a rare resilience, and that’s something we could foster here in the Devildom. Imagine what we could achieve if more people were willing to face their fears like you."

But even with his royal duties and his grand vision for the Devildom’s future, Diavolo enjoys lighthearted moments with MC. Their lack of fear makes them a refreshing presence in his life, someone who doesn’t treat him with the usual reverence or hesitation. He appreciates the directness in their interactions, and while most are wary of challenging him, MC’s readiness to face anything head-on never fails to amuse him.

"You know," Diavolo chuckles one day, leaning forward in his seat, "I think you’d make an excellent sparring partner. It’s been a while since I’ve faced someone who isn’t afraid of a little risk."

In his usual upbeat and charismatic way, Diavolo respects MC’s strength but also seeks to guide them in balancing their drive with wisdom. He sees a potential ally in them, someone who could help shape a stronger connection between the human and demon worlds.

"You’re quite remarkable, MC," Diavolo says, his voice full of genuine admiration. "And I believe your presence here in the Devildom is going to make a difference. Not just for the exchange program, but for all of us."

Barbatos

When Barbatos first encounters MC, clad in their armor and wielding swords forged from the claws of an ice dragon, he remains as calm and composed as ever. Where others might react with surprise or intrigue, Barbatos’s expression remains neutral, though his sharp eyes take in every detail. He’s not one to be easily impressed, but he quickly recognizes that MC is far from an ordinary human.

"Impressive craftsmanship," he comments softly, nodding toward the swords at MC’s side. "Ice dragon claws are not a material one encounters often. You must have gone through great effort to acquire them."

Barbatos, as a servant of the royal household, values discipline, control, and efficiency. He immediately notices MC’s fearless demeanor and relentless drive to fight, and while he acknowledges their strength, he views their constant pursuit of battle with measured caution. In his mind, strength must be balanced with wisdom, and fearlessness must be tempered with foresight.

"Strength alone is admirable," Barbatos says calmly, "but do not let it blind you to the subtleties of the world. Not all battles are won with force."

He watches MC closely, especially when they speak of their adventures, and though Barbatos doesn’t share Diavolo’s exuberance, he is quietly intrigued by MC’s experiences. Their boldness and lack of fear are unusual for a human in the Devildom, and Barbatos finds their demeanor both refreshing and a potential cause for concern. He appreciates individuals who are willing to face challenges, but he also knows that reckless bravery can lead to unintended consequences.

"You seem to seek out danger wherever you go," Barbatos observes one day, his tone gentle but firm. "I wonder if you have considered the value of patience. Even the strongest warriors must know when to wait and when to strike."

Though he rarely expresses his thoughts openly, Barbatos does respect MC’s capabilities. He’s meticulous in everything he does, and he admires those who are similarly skilled. However, his primary concern is balance and ensuring that MC’s drive to fight doesn’t lead to unnecessary chaos. Barbatos is a master of control, and he values individuals who understand the importance of restraint—something he subtly encourages in MC whenever they speak.

"You have great potential," Barbatos says, his voice steady. "But even the strongest can be undone by rushing into battles without proper preparation. I would advise you to consider each challenge carefully before acting."

Despite his calm demeanor, Barbatos is not without warmth. He cares deeply for those in the Devildom, and while his advice is always practical, there’s an underlying sense of protectiveness when he speaks to MC. Though he may not show it as openly as Diavolo or the others, he does not want to see MC’s fearlessness lead to harm.

If MC ever returns from a particularly challenging battle, perhaps showing signs of fatigue or injury, Barbatos will quietly tend to them, ensuring they are taken care of without making a fuss. "Even the strongest need time to recover," he says, offering them a cup of tea with his usual elegance. "I trust you will take the necessary time to rest before seeking your next challenge."

Barbatos respects MC’s capabilities, but he never hesitates to remind them of the importance of balance, patience, and precision. To him, they are a strong and valuable asset to the Devildom, but one that must be guided with care.

"You are formidable, there is no doubt about that," Barbatos says with a rare, almost imperceptible smile. "But true strength lies not just in the ability to fight, but in knowing when not to."

Simeon

When Simeon first sees MC in their full armor, wielding swords made from the claws of an ice dragon, his initial reaction is one of quiet admiration, though not just for their appearance or strength. He’s always been more interested in the stories behind people’s actions—the motivations, the journeys, the moments that shape them. MC’s fearless demeanor and relentless pursuit of battle intrigue him, not because of the physical feats they’ve accomplished, but because of the story that must lie beneath it all.

"You have the air of someone who’s seen much and learned more," Simeon comments softly, his eyes warm and thoughtful. "I imagine you’ve faced quite a few challenges on your journey. Would you mind sharing your story with me sometime?"

As a writer, Simeon is deeply fascinated by character and narrative. MC, with their relentless drive and unyielding courage, strikes him as someone whose experiences could fill volumes. He often finds himself observing them from a distance, not out of judgment, but out of a genuine curiosity to understand what drives someone to seek out danger so fearlessly. While others might focus on MC’s strength, Simeon is more interested in the why behind it all.

"What compels you to fight?" he asks one day, his tone gentle but probing. "Is it the thrill of the battle? Or is there something else that you’re searching for?"

Simeon’s approach to MC is always soft and considerate. He doesn’t push them for answers, but he often invites them to share their thoughts or experiences over quiet conversations, always eager to listen. His fascination with their life as a monster hunter stems from his belief that every person has a story worth telling, and MC’s story, with its focus on battle and strength, is one he feels could teach him something new about the world.

"Your journey must have been filled with many trials," Simeon muses, scribbling in his notebook one day. "Perhaps there’s a lesson in it for all of us—a way to understand the balance between courage and vulnerability."

He’s not just a passive listener, though. Simeon often uses his conversations with MC as inspiration for his writing. He subtly draws parallels between their stories and the narratives he weaves, finding beauty in the tension between their unyielding strength and the quieter, more introspective moments they rarely show. In fact, he sometimes writes fictionalized accounts of their encounters, always with a focus on the inner conflicts that must come with being someone who faces danger so often.

"You remind me of a character I’ve been writing about," Simeon tells MC one afternoon, a thoughtful smile on his lips. "A warrior with a strong heart but a soul that is always searching for something more. Perhaps you’ll find what you’re looking for in these battles—or perhaps, it’s something beyond them."

Unlike others who might caution MC against pushing themselves too hard, Simeon never directly warns them about the dangers of their lifestyle. Instead, he gently encourages reflection, hoping they’ll come to their own understanding of balance. He respects their choices and believes that the path they walk—dangerous as it may be—is part of their own story, and only they can determine where it leads.

Still, there’s an underlying protectiveness to Simeon’s interactions with MC. He may not wield swords or fight monsters, but his concern for their well-being is evident in his gentle nudges toward self-reflection. "Even the strongest warriors need rest," he says one evening, his voice calm and soothing. "Perhaps the next battle can wait until you’ve had a moment to yourself. After all, it’s in the quiet moments that we often find the answers we’ve been seeking."

Simeon admires MC’s bravery, but his true connection with them comes from his desire to understand the deeper motivations that drive them. To him, MC is more than just a fighter—they’re a living story, full of complexities and emotions that make them all the more fascinating.

And in his own way, Simeon hopes to be part of that story, helping them see that there’s more to life than battles and that sometimes, the greatest strength comes from knowing when to rest and reflect.

Luke

When Luke first meets MC, clad in their full suit of armor and wielding swords made from the claws of an ice dragon, his eyes go wide with awe. He’s immediately fascinated by their appearance and presence, especially since he’s never seen a human so fearless—or wearing such impressive gear.

"Wow!" Luke exclaims, practically bouncing with excitement. "You look just like one of those knights from the stories I read! Did you really fight an ice dragon? What was it like? How big was it? Were you scared?"

His curiosity is boundless, and he peppers MC with question after question, his childlike excitement bubbling over. To Luke, MC is like a real-life hero, and while he knows they’re a monster hunter, his youthful imagination casts them as a noble protector, someone who slays evil to keep others safe. He looks up to them almost immediately, seeing them as a role model.

"I bet you’ve saved tons of people, right?" Luke asks, his eyes sparkling. "You’re just like one of those brave knights in the stories! You protect everyone from scary monsters!"

However, despite his admiration, Luke’s protective instincts kick in. Even though MC is clearly strong and capable, he still worries about them, just like he worries about everyone he cares about. "But… you have to be careful!" Luke adds, his tone turning serious, his small hands clenched into fists. "Fighting monsters is dangerous! You can’t just go around looking for trouble!"

Luke, despite being a child, takes his role as an angel seriously, and he views MC’s constant search for battle with a mixture of awe and concern. He can’t understand why someone would willingly put themselves in danger, even if they’re strong. To him, bravery is important, but so is knowing when to stay safe. "You don’t have to fight all the time to be a hero," he says earnestly, his big eyes filled with concern. "You can help people in other ways too, you know."

Whenever MC returns from a hunt, Luke is always the first to run up to them, checking for any injuries, even if they insist they’re fine. "Are you hurt? Let me see! You have to be careful next time, okay?" He may be small, but Luke’s protective nature knows no bounds, and he fusses over MC the way an older sibling might.

At the same time, Luke looks up to MC and wants to learn from them. "Do you think you could teach me how to fight like you?" he asks eagerly. "Not that I’d ever want to hurt anyone! But just in case I need to protect someone!"

Of course, despite his fascination with MC’s strength, Luke still can’t help but view them through his innocent, childlike lens. He believes in the good in everyone and hopes that MC’s battles are always for the right reasons. "Promise me you’ll only fight the bad monsters," he says one day, his voice soft but firm. "Because I know you’re strong, but it’s important to be kind too."

Luke may be young, but his admiration for MC is tempered with his natural protectiveness and deep sense of morality. He sees MC as a brave hero, but he also wants to make sure they understand that being a hero isn’t just about fighting—it’s about doing what’s right.

"Just promise me you’ll stay safe," Luke says with a determined expression. "Because I’d miss you if something happened."

Solomon

When Solomon first meets MC, decked out in their imposing armor with twin swords made from the claws of an ice dragon, his reaction is one of amused fascination. He’s always been one to appreciate the unusual and extraordinary, and MC is no exception. His eyes gleam with curiosity as he takes in their no-nonsense attitude and constant thirst for battle.

"Well, aren’t you a sight to behold," Solomon says with a playful grin. "An armored human, hunting down demons and monsters with no fear in sight. I must say, you’re quite the intriguing puzzle."

Unlike some of the others, Solomon doesn’t feel intimidated by MC’s presence. If anything, he finds it refreshing. He’s met countless beings over the centuries, but someone like MC—who walks into the Devildom, ready to face danger head-on without hesitation—piques his curiosity. In true Solomon fashion, he’s eager to learn more about their abilities, techniques, and the drive that keeps them hunting.

"You’ll have to show me those swords up close," he comments casually, eyeing the dragon-claw blades. "Ice dragon claws… that’s not something you see every day. I wonder what kind of spells we could craft using materials like that."

Solomon, being the mischievous and ever-experimental sorcerer that he is, immediately starts thinking of ways to involve MC in his magical experiments. He’s always pushing boundaries, and having someone as fearless as MC around sparks all kinds of ideas for new spells, potions, and challenges. "You and I should collaborate," he suggests with a grin. "Think of the possibilities! We could combine your hunting skills with my magic. I bet we could summon something really exciting."

Of course, knowing Solomon, his definition of "exciting" usually involves a lot of chaos and unpredictability, so his idea of collaboration comes with a certain level of risk. But he’s confident that MC, with their fearlessness and thirst for adventure, would be up for it.

Solomon’s teasing nature also shines through in his interactions with MC. He can’t help but poke fun at their constant search for a fight. "You’re like a dog chasing after every stick thrown your way," he says with a chuckle. "Do you ever stop and relax? Or is hunting all you think about?"

Despite his playful jabs, Solomon respects MC’s abilities deeply. He knows they’re not just a warrior looking for their next challenge—they’re someone who has honed their skills to perfection. That kind of dedication resonates with him, and while he might joke around, he’s always paying close attention to how MC handles themselves in battle.

There’s also a part of Solomon that enjoys watching MC’s fearlessness in action. He’s spent centuries mastering magic and dealing with demons, but MC’s straightforward approach is something he finds amusing and endearing. "You really don’t back down from anything, do you?" he asks one day, leaning back with an amused smile. "It’s almost reckless. Almost."

Still, Solomon can’t resist pushing MC’s limits. He’s constantly challenging them, whether it’s through magical experiments or philosophical debates about the nature of strength. "Being fearless is one thing," he says thoughtfully, "but have you ever wondered if there’s something even you’re afraid of? Maybe it’s not a monster or a demon—maybe it’s something a little closer to home."

His tone is light, but his words are probing, as Solomon often likes to peel back the layers of people around him, especially those as intriguing as MC.

In the end, Solomon’s relationship with MC is one of mutual respect, sprinkled with his usual chaotic energy. He admires their strength and courage, but never misses an opportunity to throw a little unpredictability their way, always curious to see how they’ll react.

"Oh, and one last thing," Solomon says with a sly smile after one of their more intense conversations. "If you ever need a break from all that hunting, I’m always up for a little magical chaos. Just let me know when you’re ready to try something really dangerous."

[buckysgrace]

5. You Broke Me First

Broken Hearts Club Steve Harrington x Fem!Reader

You enjoy your time with Steve.

Life without Patty was nice. Even if it had just been a few weeks. Two to be exact. Fourteen days with no drama, no petty arguments or feeling like you had to prove yourself to be something. It was nice, refreshing.

The realizations made you feel guilty, but your grandma had said it was probably for the best. You were allowed to feel thankful for Patty’s kindness at one time, but also able to move on from that point. You didn’t have to owe her for the rest of your life. 

Every single day was spent with Steve. You drove to work with him in the mornings, shared breaks with him, rode home with him at night. Usually you snuck over to his, as you were too afraid to have him over after the last conversation with your grandmother. But you feared she knew about your sneaking out as well. 

You felt comfortable, more relaxed than you had been in a long time. You had never felt so spoiled, so desirable. It was intense, but in the best sort of way. 

But now you were stuck. Technically you were still a part of Patty’s stupid idea despite her going silent on you some time ago. You had no way of confirming if she still wanted to do this. But most of all, you had no way of really telling her that this was off. That you weren’t sure if you wanted to do it.

You didn’t.

You supposed you could come clean, but the very thought of hurting Steve made you sick to your stomach. It was even worse when you looked at you with those big brown eyes, full of adoration and joy. You couldn’t be the one to break his heart. There was no way. 

“What are you thinking about?” Steve asked, breaking you from your thoughts of watching the water ripple against your fingers that were dipped into his pool water. His floaty was next to yours, bouncing against you gently with the drift of the wind. 

You turned towards him, breathing in the soft look in his eyes. You loved to stare at them, loved how big and gentle they were. You traced your eyes over the curve of his nose, then over his freshly tanned skin. You were close enough that you could see a few freckles across his skin. 

“Nothing.” You replied a second later, gulping harshly as you weren’t able to come up with an answer. You didn’t know what to tell him, how to explain the web that you had tangled yourself into. 

“Right,” He chuckled as he brought his thumb between your eyebrows, “You just had this intense look in your eyes for nothing.” He pointed out, as if he could see you behind your sunglasses. 

“My car,” You lied, swallowing roughly once again, “Just trying to think about how much more I need to save up.” You nodded your head quickly, not wanting to spoil the moment between the two of you. 

“Patty should pay for it.” He said as he turned away, pressing his sunglasses over his face once again. You blinked at him in surprise. 

“I let her in the driver’s seat.” You replied as you furrowed your eyebrows together, feeling like you’d been through this conversation many times.

“So?” He asked you seriously, leaving you a little surprised. Apparently he was the only one who didn’t think it was entirely your fault. 

“It’s my responsibility,” You grinned, mimicking your grandparents speech, “It’s fine. I just need one before you leave.” You teased him, dragging your foot off of your floaty to nudge your toe against his warm skin.

He was quiet for a moment, not at all phased at your antics as you stared at him in confusion. He hadn’t said a lot about college, but you figured he’d at least be gone by the beginning of the new year. 

“I think I’m going to quit my job. Family Video is hiring.” He said at last, making you blink in confusion. You tilted your head, not understanding where that was coming from. But perhaps he’d had enough of what his dad had said. 

“What do you mean?” You asked him, shifting on the rubber beneath you so you could look at him better. He exhaled roughly as he linked his fingers over his stomach. 

“Summer’s ending,” He shrugged his shoulders, “I don’t think ice cream sells very well in the winter. Plus, I can finally get out of that stupid uniform.” He grumbled, racing his fingers through his hair as you thought about it. 

“I like the uniform.” You admitted, pulling a smile to your lips as he snapped his head towards you. You thought it was geeky, but it looked very good on him. You especially liked the tuft of hair that stuck out from his shirt. 

“You do?” He looked at you stunned, lips parted as you felt an amused grin forming on your lips. It felt wrong to admit that he looked attractive, but you weren’t going to think about that at the moment. 

“It’s very sexy,” You teased, “I enjoy it quite a lot.” You grinned, reaching across to press your fingers gently against his shoulder. His skin felt warm against yours. 

“Oh.” He flushed for a moment before his lips curled into a grin, smiling brightly like you had just made his whole year. 

“But if you want to sell movies, I won’t mind that either. You can pick out the best ones for us to watch.” You added as you thought about it, tilting your head as you tried to remember all of the new movies you had missed recently. 

“I can do that,” He grinned, looking flattered by the suggestion, “What’s your favorite movie?” He asked you curiously, gripping the arm of your floaty and pulling you closer to him. You wrinkled your nose at the sound of plastic rubbing together. 

“Hm,” You thought about it for a moment, racing through your options, “What was the one we saw together? You know, when you got all frisky at the movie theater?” You grinned mischievously as you thought about it, not missing his little gasp. 

“Ha,” He chuckled, cheeks burning as he looked at you, “You’re funny.” He shook his head, his laughter mixing with yours as electricity settled over your body as you thought about that event. He hadn’t failed to make you feel fiery since then. 

You both settled into a comfortable silence after that, your fingers linking with his over the water as your floaties continued to bump against one another. You crossed your ankles, the area between your thighs still sore from earlier today. 

“Do you want to come over for dinner?” You asked him suddenly, turning to face him as he snapped his head towards you so quickly that his sunglasses nearly toppled off. 

“Tonight?” He asked you for clarity, making you press your lips into a smile as you nodded. You figured it was about time. Maybe then you wouldn’t have to sneak around as much. 

“My grandma always makes something,” You told him, “And your fridge is bare.” You reminded him, thinking of the very bare sandwich the two of you had shared earlier. You were getting hungry and you figured he must be too as he was always snacking. 

“I need to go shopping,” He admitted, nodding his head in agreement. He hadn’t once mentioned where his parents had been since you’d been coming over, “Sure. That sounds like fun.” You wiggled your way out of the floaty, gasping as the cold water hit your skin before you made your way to the ladder. He followed closely behind. 

“Just don’t let them be weird,” You told him quickly, “Because they like to embarrass everyone.” You pouted as you thought about it, hoping they wouldn’t pull any embarrassing stories out. Although Steve probably knew them all. 

“Or you just don’t like being teased.” He told you, passing you a towel as you began to dry yourself off. You stared at your pile of dry clothes, hoping they’d feel good from where the sun had been roasting them. 

“That too,” You agreed with him, “I’ve never brought a boy over before.” You told him playfully, taking a quick glance around before you shifted your swimsuit off your body. You no longer felt embarrassed about being naked in front of him. 

“I’ve been the only one?” He asked, grinning at the subtle way you nodded your head, “I’m flattered.” He told you, eyes lingering against your body for a second too long before you shoved your wet swimming suit at him. 

You headed down the familiar path once you were both dried and dressed, trying not to fall to your knees as Steve linked his fingers with yours. You liked the feeling of his skin against yours, how large his hand was in comparison to your own. 

“Steve,” Your grandpa nodded at him once you had made your way inside, “Good to see your face. I’m used to seeing your back as you leave.” He grumbled, shaking his head as he turned his attention back to the TV. 

“Grandpa.” You hissed, eyes wide in fear as you felt your insides warming in embarrassment. You wished they could just act casual for once. 

“Just saying,” He held his hands up innocently, “I hope you like meatloaf.” He replied, grinning as he sent him a little wave. 

“I do,” Steve nodded his head along, cheeks still flushed, “Thank you.” He nodded as he glanced around, brown eyes breathing in the new decorations within the house. Nothing special, just the occasional item your gran found at garage sales. 

“Hi,” Your gran piped up, moving forward to give him a big squeeze as you tried not to hide your face in embarrassment, “It’s been so long.” She rocked him back and forth for a minute, leaving you with a smile on your lips. 

“Yeah, it’s been a few years since I’ve been here.” He said seriously, lips curling into a polite smile once she released him. She gave his cheek a little pat, making you roll your eyes at the way she doted on him. 

“Well, since you’ve been in this kitchen,” She clarified, making the two of you gape in horror at her casual revelation, “But you can tell me how well you like the touch ups.” She said in a sing-song way before she shouted at your grandfather to join them at the table. 

“They’re great,” He squeaked out, “Really nice.”  He ran his hands through his damp hair a few times, eyes flittering towards you for a brief second. 

“Food looks amazing,” You said next, trying not to die as you sat down across from him, “Thank you.” You told her honestly, glad there was no tension despite their teasings. 

“We should pray,” Your grandpa muttered as he held his hands out, one for you to grab and the other for Steve to take. It was the same routine every night. You clasped your gran’s hand next, nodding your head toward Steve, “Any requests? Maybe no early pregnancies?”

“Grandpa!”

Dinner was surprisingly well, despite the little digs they kept making at the two of you. You huffed underneath your breath the entire time, wondering why they wanted to torture you in such a way. 

“I was so upset you stopped being friends in high school,” Your gran started as she scooped another plate out for Steve. His eyes widened, apparently not planning on three servings, “But people do grow apart. And then back together.” She added, smiling sweetly at you. 

“Yep,” You agreed, feeling the embarrassment sinking into your bones, “That happened.” You weren’t sure why you invited him here in the first place, but it wasn’t so they could act like you were going to marry him. You weren’t even really dating. The whole thought process made your stomach twist and churn. 

“She’s pretty special,” Steve spoke up, making you jerk your gaze towards him once again, “I was dumb to let her go before.” He added, eyes locking onto yours as your throat suddenly felt too dry to speak. You didn’t know what to say, or what to do. You forced a smile, suddenly filled with guilt all over again.

You both took the role of cleaning the dishes while your grandparents retreated towards the living room after dinner, discussing something that one of the church leaders had said today. Their gossip was something you didn’t care to hear about at the moment. 

“Why are you still friends with Patty?” He asked you suddenly, eyebrows furrowing together as soap leaked off of his fingertips. You blinked in confusion, unsure of where that had come from. 

“She’s not that bad,” You said softly, “She took me in at school.” You shrugged your shoulders, supposing that a bad friend was better than none at all. She knew all of your secrets too, so she couldn’t be that bad. Maybe just whiny, but you still cared about her. 

“Yeah for her own selfish reasons,” He shook his head, “She’s kind of a bitch.” He mumbled underneath his breath, leaving you stunned. You hadn’t heard him ever say that before. 

“You weren’t the nicest either.” You reminded him gently, not trying to start an argument but wanting him to understand where you were coming from. He jolted at your response. 

“I’ve changed,” He defended himself, cheeks reddening, “She’s still the same. I don’t want her to hurt you.” He mumbled, fingers brushing against yours as he handed you a plate to dry. You felt a bit better suddenly, getting down to what he was upset about. But he didn’t need to worry about her hurting you. He needed to care for himself. 

“I haven’t spoken to her in a while anyways,” You told him honestly, “Why did you break up with her?” You asked softly, even though you had heard the story a hundred different times. 

“What did she tell you?” He asked suddenly, making you pause your motions for a second. You chewed on your bottom lip. 

“That you had gotten tired of her,” You started, trying to word it as carefully as you could, “Basically you dumped her for someone else.” Nancy Wheeler to be exact. And that was the nicest way you could explain it. 

“Yeah,” He laughed, “I caught her in between fourth period with her hand down Carl Johnson’s pants. It wasn’t working out anyways.” He said with a little shrug, smiling at you as you thought about her story once again. Perhaps a few pieces were off. 

“Oh,” You blinked slowly, “She never told me that.” You muttered, furrowing your eyebrows together as you wondered what else she had lied about. Hopefully not anything. But it didn’t make you feel very ecstatic about your situation. 

“Why would she?” He asked as he brushed his fingers across your palm, “It doesn’t make her sound very appealing.” You nodded your head in agreement, figuring that you owed her a call. 

[sinful-karateka]

I'll bite and talk about something that doesn't get enough spotlight in general, which are Demetri's and Eli's family life. So obviously several fic authors have their own twists and flavors to this, but if I may sell you something for a sec.

So far into the series, what we've got are these facts:

Demetri's Mom is the only family member to be mentioned in the show.

Eli's parents were mentioned a couple of times.

That should be enough context to deduce two things:

Demetri could be an only child to a single mother, and;

Eli's parents involve themselves in the stuff that he does — including karate, who knows — though they tend to be tone deaf with his actual needs.

There's strong evidence to why the boys act the way they act (brain functions notwithstanding, but this isn't the post for that), which is why I think these deductions make sense. How their hypothetical upbringing is part and parcel to how characters behave in this series. Of course societal influence comes in second because obviously you've got a show that encourages learning karate as defense against bullies, but this show is also about generational chains and traumas! So why wouldn't their home life inform the way it informs the LaRusso's, Lawrence's, and Nichols'? But I digress.

In the span of the entire series, I've held onto this headcanon that Demetri's neuroticism and ability to anticipate his actions carefully stem from a household that needs these systems in place, much more for someone who likes to be on top of things. Since he's just a student, the only authoritative figure who can make executive decisions... is his mom. Add to the fact that she may be a working mom, so when Demetri tells Daniel about certain restrictions in learning karate, what could have made her decide to just write a letter instead vs. taking the time out to go with his son herself? I know I know it's narrative writing but like do you seeeee where I'm at here

Eli's family life is by far gave us early indications of his dynamic with his mother — but not so a father — in earlier seasons. It's possible that his mom is a stay-at-home one, but if I were to push the bounds of this box even further, I'd even speculate that she's retired early if it meant that Eli's dad is the one making most of the living. Like of course they'd get mad at Hawk for getting a tattoo at his age, I think any parent would! But the way he tells Aisha to exclude him from her stories tells us that there's not a lot that his parents know about the life he lives as Hawk. At this point we all know the kind of effort it takes to successfully carry it out because he has to go home every night. It's either he a) puts in a lot of effort into concealing this identity once he gets home, or b) his parents are rarely ever home, which again, feeds into another assumption that maybe Mrs. Moskowitz works certain hours.

All we know is they're never around a whole lot for these boys, which is sad! and also again, very Indicative of their classification as awkward nerds pre- and early karate. When I read along certain fics that consider and include how the rest of their characters besides the found families they've formed, it gives much more depth and potency to writing them, their flaws, and how they think.

For all we know, Mrs. Alexopoulos could be a lesbian making fun of her son for not slinging pussy like she does being rizzless unlike her, but don't let me explain that when we have @demetriandelibinaryboyfriends!

[favoriteanimal]

Not to sound like that type of person but I wish one of my friends would just, like, think for 35 seconds about the ways they talk about men

They're far from the worst person I've ever known on this. But there's a remarkable hypervigilance for red flags, there's a disinterest in understanding the motivations of male characters ("male rage" being the supposed motivation for a character that's almost never angry onscreen?), a way trends that point toward the intersection of emotional needs and cultural messaging are just generalized on with amused dismissal - no single instance is really out of line but as a pattern it's not great!

And I'm aware of the fact that I'm a man who's pretty emotionally oriented toward men and also famously naive in some ways; AND I'm also aware that this person isn't great at extending empathy in general, AND it's probably true that they're often similarly disinterested in or suspicious of the inner motivations of women and I just don't have my ears pricked up for that in the same way.

AND ALSO I HAVE NOTICED A PATTERN AND IT'S BUGGING ME AND I DON'T KNOW IF IT MAKES SENSE TO BRING IT UP.

[hecksupremechips]

Replaying p3 is such a frightening experience because it forces me to remember Ikutski is a real character that exists

[lovegasmic]

⋆ LACTATION KINK

ft. Sukuna, Toji, Satoru

𓂃 ࣪˖ ִֶָ𐀔 cw. f!reader, praising, nipple play, hand jobs ( s.g ), unprotected sex ( t.f ), reader is pregnant, mentions of breeding.

NAVI ⁞ EVENT MASTERLIST

“who could have thought the brat growing inside you came with perks” is what Sukuna mumbles, a lazy smile spreading through his lips as he leans down once again, fervently suckling on your swollen nipples and greedily swallowing the milk that’s supposedly for your unborn baby.

the first time Sukuna noticed the damp spot in your shirt, he didn’t even give you a moment to think before he’s carrying and dropping you in bed, hands eagerly ripping open the fabric, “what is that?”

you sigh, rubbing your forehead, “i’m lactating, Sukuna”

and he is not a stupid man in the slightest, but he never expected the sight of your pretty nipples, all swollen and dribbling white-ish, creamy drops of milk could have his cock twitching so fast.

he’s not giving you a break after that, “tell your pretty tits to stop being so shy” Sukuna murmurs hoarsely, pinching on your nipples for the flow of milk to continue. you’re probably sucked dry at this point, his tongue lazily wrapping around the bud before sucking again, cozily laying between your thighs. the pink haired is so greedy, wishing to have you all for himself, “mmm, that’s perfect, good girl” his voice comes as a groan once the sweetness of your milk comes to coat his taste buds.

“we’re having more babies after this one.” he promises with hooded eyes that barely flick up to meet yours before diving in again.

“too heavy, babydoll?” Toji almost purrs, weighing your soft and swollen tits on the palm of his hand, he knows it hurts, stretching every couple days to get plump and full of milk, but your lover is more than ready to provide the relief you so desperately crave.

you can only whimper and nod, making Toji’s smirk widen “aw, I know, baby, I know, i got you” he coos now, gently massaging your sore tits, pressing the calloused tip of his thumb under the soft skin and sliding up, easing the tension before leaning down to suckle on the bud, a loud groan rumbling on your skin at the taste, his hips unconscious bucking down into your heat, “you look so gorgeous, all full of milk and my cock”

your sore body is just too sensitive you can’t help and continuously cream Toji’s cock, the prominent, pulsing vein rubbing against your g-spot mixed with the sensation of his lips on your nipples and hands caressing the swollen flesh drives you mad, “don’t s-stop” you barely croak, thighs shaking and laying flat with your lover’s body towering above yours.

he groans, “no need to tell me twice” and he’s sucking and lapping again, much similar to what he’d do with your clit, drinking in your taste and creamy milk on his tongue, each suck forcing his hips to move faster, pistoning into your cunt, you turn him on so much it’s kinda embarrassing how quick Toji desperately needs to cum and breed you a bit more, “fuck, baby...” a murmur laced with a groan, “need to keep you full for the rest of your life”

how’s my baby?

and you know he’s not speaking about the baby, but you.

sore :(

you text back, and that’s all he needs to flee from his job, because to Satoru there is not a better way to end his day then laying in the soft, plush and warm mattress of your shared bed. the window is slightly open, letting in a gentle breeze that swirls the curtain around, you’re sitting on his lap, his hands on your tits, mouth on your nipples and your hand stroking his cock.

Satoru is too eager, almost as if he’s making out with your nipples, cupping both tits in his large hands and switching between them, sucking on one while the other gets pinched by his fingers, “why do you taste so fuckin’ good?” it’s not really a question, or at least he doesn’t care, every single second away from your sweet milk is like torture, “can’t get enough of these gorgeous tits of yours, fuck...! it’s so sweet” he constantly rambles, barely audible through the sound of his slurping and the squelch of your hand on his cock, drooling so much precum it feels like he’ll cum on the spot.

and you’re gushing too much slick too, lazily humping on Satoru’s thigh, but don’t worry, he’ll fuck you nice and good, perhaps you can ride his cock and make your tits jiggle right on his face.

[foreverisntenough]

‘Act II’

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

Index

Warnings: This series is 18+ MDNI

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

Chapter 8 - Last Night | ‘Act II’

word count - 10.9k

Jude leaned casually against the kitchen island, a drink in hand, as he made small talk with the girl who had been eyeing him all night. She was attractive, with hair that fell in waves around her shoulders and a confident smile that didn’t quite reach her eyes. She was saying something about her job, but Jude’s mind kept drifting, his thoughts unwillingly turning back to you. As the girl laughed at something he’d said—a joke that felt hollow even as he told it—Jude’s heart twisted uncomfortably in his chest. Everything about this felt wrong. The way she looked at him, the way she leaned in a little too close, the way her laughter felt forced. She wasn’t you. She didn’t make his pulse quicken, didn’t challenge him in ways that both frustrated and fascinated him. She didn’t make him feel like he was teetering on the edge of something incredible and terrifying all at once. The girl’s voice snapped him out of his thoughts, and he forced a smile, trying to engage in the conversation. But as she spoke, he found himself comparing her to you in every way. The way her laugh wasn’t as genuine, the way her eyes didn’t light up with that same spark of mischief. She was perfectly fine, but she wasn’t you. Jude’s grip tightened around his glass, his knuckles turning a shade lighter. He shouldn’t be here. He shouldn’t be talking to this girl, this close to her,  trying to convince himself that he could be the person he used to be—the one who didn’t care, who didn’t get caught up in feelings he couldn’t control. But with every passing second, it became more and more clear that he couldn’t do this anymore. He didn’t want to. Before he could extricate himself from the conversation, he felt a familiar presence at his side. He turned to see Trent standing there, a look of confusion and concern etched across his face. Trent glanced at the girl Jude was talking to, then back at Jude, his brow furrowed.

“Jude,” Trent said, his voice polite but laced with underlying tension. “C’mere for a minute, mate.” Jude hesitated, caught between the girl’s expectant gaze and Trent’s pointed look. Finally, he nodded, excusing himself from the conversation with a forced smile. As he and Trent stepped away, Jude could feel his heart pounding in his chest, a mix of guilt and frustration churning in his stomach.

“What the hell are you doing? You need to drop this shit. You know what you're doing, mate. ” Trent asked quietly once they were out of earshot, his tone more confused than angry.

“It’s nothing, bro. Just talking.” Jude ran a hand over his hair, exhaling sharply.

“That didn’t look like nothing. I thought you were with Y/N. What’s going on? You have a fight? I thought things were good.” Trent’s eyes narrowed, clearly not buying it. 

“Nah, we’re good. I am into Y/N,” he admitted, his voice low, “but we’re not… She’s not my girlfriend, okay? It’s not like what you have with Whit. It’s so different.” Jude felt a pang of shame at Trent’s words, but he tried to shrug it off, to play it cool. 

“Why not? You like her, she likes you… She’s flown to Spain twice to fucking see you. Why are you holding back?” Trent crossed his arms, his expression growing more serious.  Jude opened his mouth to respond, but the words caught in his throat. How could he explain the fear that gnawed at him—the fear of losing himself in someone else, of being vulnerable in a way he’d never been before? The truth was, he did want what Trent had with Whitney. They we’re engaged, they had a baby, they had lived together for years, but the most enviable aspect of it, they were unequivocally in love. He envied it more than he cared to admit. But the idea of giving himself over to something so uncertain, so unpredictable, terrified him.

“I’m not ready for that,” Jude said finally, though the words tasted bitter on his tongue. “I’m not like you, Trent. I can’t just… dive into something and hope it works out.” Jude took a deep breath. 

“I’m not hoping bro… I put work in. We put in effort for it to work out. You should too. Stop dragging her around if you aren’t ready. It’s fucked up. Jude, I’ve known you a long time, and I’ve never seen you like this. Y/N means something to you—more than any of the other girls you’ve been with. Don’t throw that away because you’re scared.” Trent’s expression softened, his concern for his friend clear. Jude looked away, his jaw clenched. He didn’t want to hear this, didn’t want to confront the truth that Trent was so easily pointing out. “If you don’t want her, don’t fucking do this, tell her.” But he couldn’t deny it, either. You had gotten under his skin in a way that no one else ever had. You were all he could think about, even when he tried to distract himself with someone else.

“I do want her. I just don’t know what to do,” Jude admitted, his voice strained. “It’s like… she’s all I can think about, even when she’s not around. And that scares the hell out of me, bro.” He sighed.

“Then stop fighting it,” he said simply. “You’ve got something good with Y/N. Don’t mess it up because you’re afraid. Trust me, it’d be worth the risk.”  Trent placed a reassuring hand on Jude’s shoulder. Jude swallowed hard, the weight of Trent’s words sinking in. He knew his friend was right, but that didn’t make it any easier to accept. Still, as he glanced back at the party, at the girl he’d been talking to just moments ago, he knew that nothing here could compare to what he had with you.

“You’re right,” he said quietly. “I need to stop fucking about.” Jude nodded, the decision finally settling in his chest. He hated that he was conceded. He hated that Trent was right. 

“Good. Stop being a fucking donut and go upstairs.  Go upstairs and find her please. She’s the one you should be with tonight.” Trent smiled, relieved.  Jude nodded, feeling a sense of resolve he hadn’t had before. As he made his way back through the party, the noise and the people faded into the background, his focus solely on you. He didn’t know what the future held, he was praying that when push came to shove he’d be ready to take the plunge. For you, it was worth it.

Jude climbed the stairs with a heavy heart, a type of guilt he hadn’t felt since he was a little boy who had done something wrong but didn’t quite know how to fix it. As he approached the door to his room, the weight in his chest only grew… why did he just do that? When he finally opened the door, the sight before him made his heart break. There you were—curled up in his bed, looking so peaceful, so angelic, that it nearly undid him. The soft light from the hallway illuminated your face, casting a gentle glow over your features. Your hair was splayed out on his pillow, and your chest rose and fell with the slow, steady rhythm of sleep. You were perfect, and all he could think about was how much he wanted this—wanted you—to be his every night. Carefully, Jude crossed the room and slipped into bed beside you. As he pulled you into his arms, he felt the warmth of your body seep into his, grounding him in a way he desperately needed. You stirred, your eyes fluttering open as you felt his presence, and you instinctively cuddled closer, pressing soft, sleepy kisses to his bare chest. Jude stared up at the ceiling, his mind racing. The guilt gnawed at him, sharper now that he was lying next to you. How could he have been so foolish? How could he have even entertained the thought that there could be anything better than this—than you? After all the turmoil from him entertaining a girl the other week, was he delusional? The very idea was absurd, and the embarrassment of his earlier actions weighed heavily on him.

“Baby…What took you so long?” you murmured, your breath warm against his skin. Still half-asleep, you nuzzled into him, your voice soft and drowsy. Jude’s heart clenched at the question. He grappled with what to say, not wanting to lie to you, not wanting to keep any more secrets. But the truth was complicated, and he didn’t want to hurt you with it. 

“I was… just talking,” he said, his voice quiet and uncertain. Finally, he settled on the simplest answer, though it felt inadequate. You hummed in response, your eyes closed as you clung to him, but there was a hint of something in your voice—a slight tension that hadn’t been there before. Even in your tired state, you could sense that something was off, something was troubling him. And as much as you wanted to ignore the uneasy feeling in your stomach, you couldn’t quite shake it.

“Jude… is everything okay?” you asked, your voice barely above a whisper, laced with a mix of concern and weariness. You tightened your grip on him, your kisses trailing up to his neck as if to reassure both of you. You hated that now you were scared of him being with other women. 

“Yeah, angel.” he whispered back, his voice strained. “Everything’s fine. Just… just tired, I guess.” Jude’s throat tightened, and he swallowed hard, wishing he could just erase the last few hours.  But even as he said the words, he knew they weren’t enough. You deserved more than this, more than half-truths and evasions. You deserved all of him—the real him—and he wasn’t sure he was ready to give that, but he knew he had to try. As you drifted back to sleep in his arms, Jude made a silent promise to himself: he wouldn’t let this—let you—slip through his fingers. Not now, not ever.

Whitney caught you in the hallway the next morning, her expression a mix of concern and determination. You two had always been close, but Whitney’s protective side was out in full force today, especially after what she’d heard from Trent last night when they had gone to bed. 

“Y/N, can we talk?” Whitney’s voice was soft, but there was an underlying tension that made your stomach tighten. You nodded, trying to suppress the unease rising within you. You’d seen the way Jude had been acting the night before, and though you tried to push your fears aside, they lingered like a dark cloud over your thoughts. Whitney led you into the small sitting room at the back of the house, away from the noise and commotion of the morning. Once you were seated, Whitney wasted no time getting to the point.

“Trent told me what happened last night,” Whitney began, her eyes searching your face for a reaction. “He said Jude was talking to another girl at the party right after you went up and not in a platonic way… and that Trent had to step in. Even if it was harmless… it’s really not nice.” Your heart sank. You’d suspected something was off, but hearing it confirmed made you feel like the ground was slipping from beneath your feet. Still, you forced a smile, trying to brush it off.

“It’s fine, Whit. Really,” You said, your voice steady even though your heart wasn’t. “Jude and I… we’re not anything serious. We’re into each other, that’s it. It’s meant to be just fun.” You lied. And the lie fucking hurt. 

 “YN, I know you. And I know you care about him—probably more than you’re willing to admit. I just… I don’t want to see you get hurt.”  Whitney frowned, clearly not convinced. You looked away, your gaze fixed on a distant point outside the window. You wanted to believe that everything was fine, that you could keep your heart protected behind the walls you’d built. But the truth was, those walls were starting to crack, and it scared you more than anything.

“It’s just… complicated,” You finally admitted, your voice quieter now. “Jude’s not the kind of guy who wants to settle down right now I don’t think and I’m not the girl who wants to get her heart broken.” You sheepishly told her. Whitney reached out and took yorur hand, squeezing it gently. 

“I get that. But maybe you’re not giving yourself—or him—enough credit. Jude cares about you, Y/N. Trent said he was acting weird last night, and I think it’s because he doesn’t know how to handle what he’s feeling.” Whitney sympathetically smiled at you. You bit your lip, your emotions swirling in a confusing mix of hope and fear. You’d seen glimpses of something deeper in Jude, moments where he’d let his guard down just enough to show you that there was more to him than the carefree playboy he pretended to be. But you’d also seen the hesitation, the way he pulled back whenever things got too real.

“It’s just… he’s used to keeping things casual and so am I. You know I always have.” You said, your voice faltering slightly. “And I don’t know if I can let myself get close to someone who might not be there when it really matters.” Whitney’s gaze softened, her worry for her friend evident. 

“You’re right to protect yourself, but don’t shut him out completely. Maybe you need to give him a chance to show you who he really is. Maybe he just needs a little time to figure things out.” You nodded, though your heart still felt heavy.  “Y/N… you always have but you haven’t always had to.” She cooed gently. You wanted to believe Whitney, wanted to believe that Jude could be different, that he could be the person you needed him to be.But the fear of getting hurt, of letting yourself fall only to be left alone, was almost too much to bear.

“I’ll think about it,” you said finally, squeezing Whitney’s hand in return. “But for now… I’m just going to take things one day at a time. No expectations, no promises.” You couldn’t even pretend to smile as you said it because that’s exactly what you wanted. You wanted promises and you wanted to expect things of him. 

“That’s fair. Just… don’t forget that you deserve someone who’s all in, Y/N. Someone who sees how amazing you are and doesn’t want to let you go.” Whitney smiled, though there was still a trace of worry in her eyes. You nodded, your heart aching with the truth of Whitney’s words. As you stood up and made your way back to the rest of the house, You couldn’t shake the feeling that you were standing at the edge of something—something that could either lift you higher than you’d ever been or break you completely. And the scariest part was, you weren’t sure which way it would go.

You were curled up on the couch later in the day, head resting against Jude’s chest, completely knocked out from a mix of exhaustion and the drinks you’d had yesterday night. The soft rise and fall of your breathing was the only sound in the quiet room. Jude, very much awake, ran his fingers lazily through your hair, his gaze soft and protective. He was hungover too, but he didn’t mind, not with you draped over him like this. Trent came over to the couch, having just said his goodbyes to Denise, Whitney who was still saying hers. Without warning, he flicked Jude’s ear, pulling him out of his reverie. Jude winced, then grinned up at Trent, lifting one arm for a half-hearted dap without disturbing you.

"You alright, mate?" Trent teased, eyeing the two of you with an amused smirk. "Looks like you’ve got your hands full."

"Yeah, I don’t wanna move. Might wake her up." Jude chuckled, keeping his voice low so as not to wake you. Trent raised an eyebrow, leaning in a little closer.

"Nah, that’s not it," he teased, a knowing grin spreading across his face. "It’s not about waking her up, it’s ‘cause you like it. You like her laying on you, you like taking care of her." Jude couldn’t help but laugh softly, though he knew Trent was right. He enjoyed having you this close, the feeling of being needed, and maybe even more than that, the feeling of taking care of you, of you trusting him enough to fall asleep against him. He was in deep, and he knew it.

"Yeah, yeah," Jude grumbled, shaking his head with a smile. "Alright, maybe. But keep that to yourself, yeah?"

"Too late for that, bro. You’re already in trouble so don’t fuck it up." Trent gave him a light punch on the shoulder, still grinning. Jude let out a quiet laugh, glancing down at you again, your peaceful face nestled against him. He didn’t mind being in trouble. Not if it meant moments like this with you.

When Jude picked up the injury, you knew it was going to be a long road for him. It wasn’t just the physical pain or the rehabilitation that weighed on him—it was the feeling of purposelessness, the uncertainty of what he was without football. You curled up next to him, your arms wrapped tightly around his waist as he vented his frustration. He wasn’t the kind of guy to let anyone see his vulnerability, but with you, he felt safe enough to spill his thoughts.

"It's not the rehab, you know?" he started, his voice low and filled with frustration. "It's the fact that I'm just sitting there, useless. I hate watching from the stands... makes me feel like I’m not contributing to anything, like I’m just taking up space." You ran your hand across his chest, feeling the tension building in him as he spoke. 

"I can’t imagine how tough that must be," you said softly, "but Jude... you’re so much more than just football. I know that’s hard to believe right now, but you are. Football’s what you do, not who you are." He sighed, staring at the ceiling as if it held some answers, but you knew he was listening, even if he didn’t say it right away. The weight of sitting out a game at the Bernabéu, watching his team battle on without him, was too much for him to bear. 

"I'm supposed to be out there. That’s where I belong, on the pitch. Not stuck in a suit, sitting on the sidelines," he muttered. Then, his voice softened as he turned toward you, his gaze searching yours. "Will you come with me to the match? I don’t want to sit up there alone." You blinked, surprised by the question but also deeply touched. You knew this was more than just wanting company. This was him letting you into his world—really letting you in. This wasn’t about a night out, or a private moment shared between just the two of you. This was about being seen with him, in front of the world, at his place of work where every move he made was watched, scrutinized. And he wanted you there, right beside him. It was a gesture of trust, of significance. Jude had built walls around his life, carefully separating his public and private selves, but now he was pulling you through those barriers. Your heart swelled with the realization that this wasn’t just about sitting in a box seat at the Bernabéu. This was Jude telling you that your support, your presence, had become something he relied on, something he couldn’t imagine going without.

"Of course," you whispered, pressing a kiss to his shoulder. "I’ll be right there with you." He pulled you closer, resting his head against yours, his breath a little steadier now. There was still so much for him to work through, but in that moment, you felt like the invisible walls between you had crumbled a little more. You were part of his world in a way you hadn’t been before, and the weight of that made your chest tighten with emotion. As you lay there, you couldn’t help but feel the enormity of what it meant. The world would see you two together, no more hiding, no more secrecy. Jude needed you in a way he hadn’t before, and that thought filled you with both warmth and a sense of responsibility. You wanted to be there for him, to lift him up when he felt purposeless, to show him that his worth went beyond the pitch. In that quiet, intimate moment, you realized that you’d become part of his foundation, and in some ways, he had become part of yours.

You were engrossed in a video, scribbling notes in your notebook while sitting cross-legged on Jude’s bed. The topic was one you couldn’t afford to miss—an upcoming art exhibit back in New York, one you really needed to be home for. Your focus was razor-sharp until you felt Jude’s presence beside you. He flopped down dramatically, his larger frame pressing into yours as he leaned his head into your lap.

"What’re you doing, angel?" he asked, his voice low and curious looking up at you.

"I need to pay attention," you muttered, trying to focus on the details of the exhibit, but Jude wasn’t so easily deterred.

"Can I listen with you?" he asked, a little more earnestly this time. 

“You don’t have to.” You smiled. At first, you were ready to brush him off, but something in his tone made you pause. 

“Can I listen with you?” he repeated again persistently. He just wanted to be with you. You sighed softly, running your fingers over his hair in a distracted motion, scratching at his scalp while the video continued. Jude grabbed the pen from your notebook, and even though it was unclicked, he began tracing it over your skin in idle strokes. His touch was light, almost absentminded, but it sent small shivers across your arms. You could tell he was about to ask something—his lips parted—but before he could get the words out, you shushed him gently.

"I just wanna know your middle initial," he whispered, smiling against your thigh. You rolled your eyes but couldn’t help the soft smile tugging at your lips.

 "You're were right. It's ‘y/m/i,’" you finally admitted before leaning down to kiss his temple. He had been drawing your initials on your skin, you felt the letters over and over again. Satisfied, Jude clicked the pen and, with careful precision, began to write his own initials now—'JVWB'—on your arm. The ink left a subtle trail on your skin, a quiet mark of him. When he finished, he gently turned your hand and placed the pen in it, watching you with that familiar glint of mischief in his eyes. Wordlessly, you took the pen and did the same, tracing your initials onto the inside of his wrist. You both glanced at the marks, your initials resting against each other’s skin, a quiet connection. You didn’t say anything more, but neither of you wiped the ink away. It felt right, leaving it there.

The morning of the match, the energy between you and Jude felt different. As you both got dressed in the warm glow of your shared space, there was a quiet, almost unspoken intimacy that flowed between you. Jude was focused on pulling together his outfit, looking for a middle ground between subtly but professional, while you carefully picked out your own clothes—stylish, sophisticated, a Miu Miu denim jacket, a leopard mini skirt, tall black boots, along with the Chanel bag Jude had gotten for you. You knew you could have worn something simple, maybe a Madrid jersey, but something about today felt like it needed a more personal touch. This wasn’t about being just another person in the crowd. When Jude looked over at you, his eyes flickered with admiration. A slow grin spread across his face as he took in your appearance. 

"You look gorgeous," he said, his voice soft, but there was an edge of pride in it. "The club might have to put you in the trophy cabinet after this." His playful smirk made you roll your eyes, but you couldn’t stop the warmth that flooded your chest. You both left for the stadium, and though Jude wasn’t on the pitch today, the moment you arrived, you could feel the weight of being by his side. The cameras were everywhere, capturing the scene, projecting it onto the big screens for the entire stadium and anyone watching from home to see.  Jude sat beside you, his presence calm but solid, like a shield against the swirling energy of the match day. When the camera panned to him, he raised his left hand, giving the crowd a wave, but what made your heart skip a beat was the way he kept his right hand intertwined with yours. His fingers laced through yours, resting gently on his thigh, a subtle gesture that wasn’t overt but spoke volumes.  It was bold, and in a world where he could easily keep things between the two of you private, he chose to let people see this small but meaningful connection. You weren’t hidden in the background anymore; you were sitting there beside him, as much a part of his world as he was in yours. That quiet gesture had your heart racing in a way you hadn’t expected. It wasn’t just the thrill of being seen with Jude; it was more than that. It was the sense that, for the first time in your life, someone truly saw you for who you were, beyond the surface, beyond the glamor or the assumptions people had about you. Jude’s hand in yours wasn’t about possession or display—it was about acknowledgment, appreciation. He saw you, the real you, and it made you feel like you were falling for him all over again, but deeper this time. You glanced over at him, watching as he focused on the game below, but there was a softness in his expression, a hint of vulnerability that made your heart swell. You leaned into him slightly, letting your shoulder brush against his. He squeezed your hand in response, a silent confirmation that he felt it too—this connection, this bond that was growing stronger by the day. Sitting there with him, surrounded by the energy of the match and the roar of the crowd, you realized just how much he appreciated you. Not as an accessory or a fleeting romance, but as someone who mattered, someone who was part of his life in a way that was real and meaningful. And in that moment, you felt something shift. You weren’t just falling for Jude—you were falling into something deeper, something that felt like it had the potential to last.

Jude had popped inside momentarily so you sat in the stands next to Denise as the game unfolded before you. The roar of the crowd, the energy in the stadium—it was exhilarating. But what truly caught you off guard was how at ease you felt with Denise by your side. Denise had been warm, welcoming, and most importantly, had said things you hadn’t realized you needed to hear.

“You know,” Denise said, her eyes fixed on the field, “Jude’s been so much happier lately. I can’t help but think it’s because of you.” She turned to you, her expression soft. “He talks about you all the time, hun. It’s been nice having you around.” Your heart fluttered, the tension you’d been carrying easing slightly. Whitney’s words from the other day had lingered in your mind, leaving you with doubts and questions. But hearing this from Denise, someone who knew Jude better than anyone, was a relief. It made everything feel more real—more possible. When the final whistle blew, Denise gave you a reassuring smile as you made your way to the box to find Jude. As soon as you saw Jude, his eyes found yours, and a grin spread across his face. He moved towards you, pulling you into a tight embrace, his lips brushing your temple. The connection between you was undeniable, the affection natural and easy. For a moment, you felt like everything was falling into place. But then, someone else appeared.

“Hey, Jude!” the guy called out, striding over with a casual confidence. He glanced at you, curiosity in his eyes. The man in the suite—one of the VIPs, someone who clearly knew Jude and had been chatting with him casually throughout the game—turned to Jude with a curious smile and asked, "So, who’s the lovely lady?" It felt like the whole room paused, even the noise from the crowd below dimming in your ears. Your heart raced, anticipation bubbling in your chest. It wasn’t that you expected Jude to call you his girlfriend. You weren’t naive. You knew where you stood—or at least, you thought you did. Jude hesitated, the words catching in his throat. He hadn’t thought about this—hadn’t prepared for it. And in that moment of uncertainty, he saw the flash of hurt in your eyes. But what you didn’t expect was Jude’s hesitation to continue. His pause. The way his mouth opened, but no words came out. He didn’t say your name. He didn’t offer any explanation of who you were. He was stumped, as if he didn’t know how to define you or the place you held in his life. The silence hung heavy between you, a sharp contrast to the warmth and connection you’d felt moments before. You felt your stomach drop, like someone had pulled the floor out from under you. How could you be so wrong? Just minutes ago, you thought he saw you—truly saw you. You thought he wanted you, that he appreciated you for more than just a passing moment. But now, all of that belief, all of that trust came crashing down. What you felt like doing amidst the sting of his hesitation was telling this man that you were simply the idiot who Jude uses for sex and to unload all his feelings on but apparently, not good enough for a label. Jude eventually muttered something about you being a friend. The man nodded politely and moved on, but it didn’t matter. The damage was done. The moment was ruined. You sat there, stunned, the weight of disappointment pressing down on your chest like a heavy stone.

This was a test, wasn’t it? All of it had been. You’d been waiting to see if he could really step up, if he could finally give you the validation you needed after everything—the months of uncertainty, the limbo, the back and forth. The audacity he had to be jealous enough of you to sleep with someone else but the indifference to not even say your name was shocking. And while Jude had passed the first part of the test, holding your hand, letting the world see you together, he had just failed miserably at the most crucial moment. Your chest tightened, and you blinked away the stinging sensation in your eyes. You couldn’t let him see how much it hurt, but inside, you were crumbling. You knew in that instant that you were done. This was it. You couldn’t handle the limbo anymore, couldn’t live in this space where you were important one second and invisible the next. You weren’t going to be someone he couldn’t even acknowledge in public, someone he wasn’t sure how to define. The decision hit you with finality: you needed to go home. Tomorrow. You couldn’t stay another minute longer in this in-between state, where you were constantly left guessing about where you stood in his life. You deserved more than that. You needed more than that. Jude couldn’t sway you this time. You felt distant, like you were a million miles away from everything and everyone—including Jude. And as much as it hurt, you knew it was time to let go. You had been drinking and you started drinking more after that. This night was a wash anyway. It was clear that no matter how many people told you that you were good for Jude and he liked you, he didn’t want it enough. You’d traveled to Madrid to make things work and he couldn’t even get the balls to introduce you. The rest of the night was awkward and tense and for you a bit blurred. You retreated to his house, but the usual comfort between you was absent. You kept your distance, and Jude was too afraid to bridge the gap, terrified of making things worse. But in your drunken haze you wanted one last hurrah with jude. A final send off.

It's late and the air was heavy with tension between you and Jude. The pressure from earlier had been intense, leaving you with hurt feelings and unresolved emotions. But as the moonlight streamed through the windows of Jude’s room, and despite your anger and deep sadness inside you, he still looked delicious. You couldn't help but be drawn to his irresistible presence. With a deliberate move, you rolled over and face him, your eyes adjusting to the dim light. Jude, with his tall, athletic frame and tanned skin, looks like a Greek god lying there. His brown eyes flickered, meeting yours, you could see a mix of emotions playing across his handsome face. You reached out letting your fingers trace the outline of his muscular chest, feeling the steady rise and fall of his breath.  A mischievous smile played on his lips, and you knew then he was considering your temptation but he also knew he was in the dog house so there was hesitation. 

“Y/N, you’re drunk and you’re upset. Please.” His voice is deep and husky. Jude paused as he tried to hold you off from climbing over into his lap in bed. The thing was… you really weren’t that drunk anymore, not at all actually, you knew exactly what you were doing. 

“Mmm it’s fine, baby. I’m really not and I want you. You’re turning me on.” You leaned in, your lips brushing against his ear before you sat back on your heels and ran your hands up his thighs. Jude groaned but then shook his head despite feeling his resolve crumble.

“I’m not doing anything.” Jude smiled at you hating that the way you were leaned over him had you tits spilling out of your tank top. You were running on the adrenaline of ending this and you wanted Jude to fuck you. 

“Mmm but you… you’re so sexy.” You continued moving your hands up over his hips onto his abs. You caught his eyes dropping to your tits. “Are my nipples hard already, Jude?” You smirked, glancing down. “Look.” You brushed your fingers over your hardened nipple before pulling your shirt completely over your head. You sat there playing innocent on full display for him.

“We really shouldn’t, yeah?” Jude hesitated again despite his hands moving to grab your hips pulling you onto his lap. He was saying one thing and doing the other. Ironic considering he’d been doing that out of the bedroom as well.  He gripped your hips, and he pulled you closer. You leaned forward and began kissing his neck.

“Pleaseee, I want your cock inside me.” You moaned rolling your bottom lip dramatically before sitting down onto him entirely. Jude could feel your warm pussy on his hardening cock now. You could feel his desire growing as your bodies pressed together. His fingers explored the curves of your body, tracing the line of your waist, then sliding up to cup your full breasts. A soft moan escapes your lips as his thumbs graze your sensitive nipples, before pinching them.

“Y/N, come on this is so unfair.” He complained. "Too fucking gorgeous to resist," he whispers, his breath hot against your neck. 

“Just give me a kiss, Jude. Please. I promise I’ll be such a good girl for you.” You moaned, picking up his hand, dragging his fingers up your body before taking two of them in your mouth. You sucked on his fingers the way you would his cock, swirling your tongue around them. 

“Fine, just one.” He smiled but he knew he was tempting fate as he leaned in to kiss you.. apparently just once but you both knew that wasn’t going to happen. “Jesus baby.” He growled. His words ignited a fire within you, and you felt a surge of power, knowing you had this effect on him. You wanted to show him just how perfect you were, to make him remember everything, especially the pleasure you give him. You were straddling his waist, your legs on either side of his powerful thighs. The heat between your bodies palpable as you grinded against him, your wetness already leaving a slick trail on his hard length. "Fuck, Y/N," he groaned, his hands gripping your ass, pulling you closer. "You're driving me crazy." He whispered. You wanted to roll your eyes. He was in fact driving you crazy lately. You leaned down, your hair cascading around his face as you kissed him hungrily. Your tongues dancing, tasting each other, as your hands explored, caressing and teasing. You reached down, guiding his thick cock towards your entrance, teasing yourself with the tip.

"Please, Jude," you begged, your voice breathless. "I need you inside me. Make me forget everything but you." With one swift motion, he thrusted into you, filling you up completely. You gasped at the sensation, your body welcoming him as if you were made for each other. The stretch of his massive cock both intensely pleasurable but painful from the lack of foreplay. After you adjusted his cock hit all the right spots, and you couldn’t help but moan loudly, your head thrown back in ecstasy. Jude started to move, his hips thrusting in a slow, deliberate rhythm. Each stroke sends waves of pleasure through your body, and you matched his pace, riding him with abandon. His hands grip your tits, squeezing and kneading them, as he fucked you with purpose, making you feel every inch of his hardness.

"You like that, baby?" His voice raw with desire. "You like my cock pounding into your sweet pussy?" He sat up and whispered nibbling on your ear. He tucked his face in the nape of your neck. He sucked on your sensitive skin. His hair tickling you. Hoarse grunts escaping him as you soaked him. He collected enough spit in his mouth before he made you open yours. He spit his saliva into your mouth. You swallowed diligently with a moan. 

“Oh fuck, that feels so good!” You whined, your nails digging into his shoulders. "Harder, Jude. Make me feel you everywhere." He obliged, picking up the pace, his hips slamming into yours. The bed creaked with the force of his thrusts, and your moans fill the room, a symphony of pleasure. You felt your orgasm building, a coiling tension deep within your core. You shut your eyes tight with your mouth agape as your tits bounced. The sight was enough to make him cum. You flashed your eyes up to look at him. The look in your eyes made Jude tense.

“Oh angel, don’t give me that face. I’m not gonna last.” He grunted out. He slapped your ass and you smirked. You moaned at the second. You squeezed your pussy tighter around him feeling him twitch inside you. “Fuck baby, squeezing me so tight. You want to cum for me? Let me feel you cum on my cock, baby, please.” He begged. He knew exactly what to do, what to say to get you there. "That's it, angel," he encouraged, his breath hot against your ear. "Cum for me, baby. Let me feel your pussy clench around my cock."  His dirty words pushed you over the edge. You cried out his name as your body convulsed around him, your juices flowing freely, coating his shaft. He groaned, his own release building, as he continued to thrust through your orgasm, prolonging your pleasure. As the waves of ecstasy subsided, you collapsed onto his chest, your heart racing. Jude's arms wrapped around you, holding you close, his breathing ragged against your hair. You could feel his cock still throbbing inside you, awaiting to continue fucking you when you were ready to go but the reality was… you wouldn’t ever be again. You were ready for something Jude was about to hate.

"That was so good, baby.” You kissed his chest, tasting the salt of his sweat, whispering against his skin. His lips were back all over your neck. He smacked your ass cheek ready to go again but you ignored it. “I’m tired, Jude.” His whole body stiffened at your words, his body going completely still. 

"Y/N..." he began, but you cut him off by placing a finger on his lips.

"Shh... no more talking. Tired. Just sit with this," you said softly, as you gently rolled away from him, breaking the connection between your bodies. You curled up on your side of the bed, your back to him, knowing that Jude was being left unfulfilled, his cock still throbbing and needy, desperate for relief. You felt a pang of satisfaction knowing you've left him wanting more, but also a hint of guilt for the lingering tension between you. As you laid in bed after, the silence between you felt heavy, almost suffocating. Jude wanted to reach out, to pull you close and tell you that you were more than just a fleeting moment, more than just someone to pass the time with and maybe you could continue having sex because this was probably the worst case of blue balls he’d ever had. But the words were stuck in his throat, weighed down by the fear that maybe it was already too late. You, for your part, stared at the wall, your mind racing. You’d always been afraid of getting too close, of letting someone in. But with Jude, it had felt different—until now. Now, all you could think about was how vulnerable you’d let yourself become, and how much it would hurt if this all fell apart. Taking back some semblance of power through sex was satisfying but that feeling vanished quickly. In the quiet darkness, you laid side by side, both too scared to do anything, both too afraid of what might happen if you didn’t. As the night rolled into morning, that fear only grew, threatening to tear you apart even as you clung to the hope that maybe, just maybe, you could find a way through this together. You began to drift off to sleep, your mind swirled with emotions, unfortunately you were dreading what was to come in the morning. Everything had been perfect, or at least it felt that way. You were sitting there, hand in hand with Jude, feeling like you’d finally found something real. The world seemed right for once—like you were falling into place with him, and for a fleeting moment, you believed it. You believed you mattered to him in the same way he had come to mean so much to you. But then it all came crashing down. 

The suitcase hit the floor with a heavy thud as you stood in the middle of the room, chest rising and falling with anger. The sun was far too bright for how dark the mood felt inside the room. You could hardly look at Jude without feeling the wave of betrayal twist inside you. You were livid, yes, but underneath all the fury was a deep, wrenching hurt that had been growing since they day he’d told you he slept with someone else. 

"You’re really leaving?" His voice cracked at the end, soft, unsure—a sound so foreign for him, but it didn’t sway you. Jude stood across from you, his face losing its color, brows furrowed in confusion and guilt, hands clenched at his sides like he didn’t know what to do with them. 

"Yeah," you bit out, your voice edged with bitterness. "I am." For a moment, the air was filled with nothing but the echo of your words, the room stilling as the finality of it all weighed down between you. Jude’s heart pounded in his chest, a cold dread wrapping around him. He knew you were upset after last night, after his inability to introduce you, but this… this felt like too much. His thoughts were spiraling, the panic bubbling up, clawing at his throat.

"I know last night wasn’t great," he started, walking closer to you, his voice low, trying to keep it steady. "But leaving? Just like that? It feels… harsh." He could barely believe the words coming out of his own mouth, grasping at anything to keep you from walking out that door. And that’s when you snapped.

"Harsh?" you repeated, your voice shaking, eyes brimming with unshed tears. You spun around to face him, anger flashing across your face like lightning. "Harsh is being reduced to nothing in front of everyone. Harsh is you pretending like I don’t exist when it matters most." You could feel your throat tightening as the words spilled out. "Harsh is thinking I’m finally something to you, only for you to not even say my name, Jude. Not even my name." Your words were like a slap across his face. Jude froze, the shock of it hitting him like a punch to the gut. His mouth opened, but nothing came out, the weight of your anger and hurt choking him.

"That’s not—" he croaked out.

"You didn’t even look at me!" you yelled, cutting him off, your voice shaking now, the pain seeping through the cracks. "It didn’t matter if it was me, or the girl you slept with, or the one you were flirting with at the party. It’s all the same, isn’t it? We’re all interchangeable to you. Nothing special. I’m nothing special." Jude’s stomach twisted violently, his face going white as your words hit him like a freight train. His hands trembled as he raked them over his face. 

"How do… you—" His voice cracked again, barely a whisper. "How do you know about anyone at the party?" The disbelief in his voice almost made you laugh, but it was a bitter, broken sound. You wiped at the tears angrily, shaking your head. 

"Do you think I’m blind, Jude? Do you think I didn’t hear about you with her? The way you smiled at her like it meant nothing? The same way you smiled at me before we got involved. Do you even realize how much you’ve hurt me? Or are you too wrapped up in your perfect little world to notice?" Jude took a step toward you, but you recoiled, holding your hand up to stop him. 

 "I wasn’t thinking… I didn’t—" His heart was pounding in his chest, a deep pit forming in his stomach.

"Exactly, you weren’t thinking," you spat, the frustration bubbling up inside you. "You’ve never thought about me, Jude. About how I feel. I’ve given up so much to be here with you in Madrid, to support you, to be by your side, and you can’t even give me the decency of acknowledging me in public." Jude swallowed hard, his throat tight, guilt crashing down on him like a wave. He could see how hurt you were, how much pain you were carrying. His mind was racing, trying to find the words, but everything felt hollow compared to the anger and heartbreak written all over your face.

"I do care about you," he said, his voice barely above a whisper, but you just shook your head, a sharp laugh escaping your lips.

"Do you?" you asked, your voice quieter now, the anger beginning to give way to the deep sadness that had been simmering underneath. "Because it doesn’t feel like it. It feels like I’m just here, waiting, always waiting for you to make me feel like I actually matter to you. But last night? You couldn’t even say my name, Jude. You couldn’t even call me yours." He felt like the air had been sucked out of the room. His chest was tight, and he could barely breathe. He didn’t know what to say—because you were right. He had failed you in the worst way possible, and now he was standing in front of you, watching everything fall apart.

"I’m sorry," he whispered, the words so small, they felt like they’d vanish in the air. "I’m so sorry. I didn’t realize… I didn’t mean to hurt you like this. I—"

"You didn’t realize," you repeated, shaking your head, the hurt etched deep into your face. "Of course, you didn’t. You never have." Jude felt a sharp, deep pain in his chest as the realization of how much he had messed up hit him. His hands fell limply at his sides, helpless. 

"Please, don’t leave. Don’t go. I know I’ve hurt you, but I—" You cut him off again, shaking your head as more tears slipped down your cheeks.

"I’m tired, Jude. I’m tired of being the one who waits. I’m tired of always being on the outside looking in." Jude felt his heart break as you spoke, his entire body aching with the guilt, with the fear of losing you. He didn’t know what to do. He had never felt so helpless in his entire life.

“I’m begging you, please," he choked out, his voice cracking. "I need you. I don’t know how to fix this, but I’ll do anything. Just… don’t go." You stared at him, your eyes red and swollen from crying, and for a moment, you felt like you might give in. Like you might run into his arms and let him hold you the way you wanted him to, but then the anger bubbled up again, and you couldn’t.

"I can’t do this anymore, Jude," you said, your voice shaky but firm. "I can’t keep pretending like I’m okay with being nothing to you when all I’ve done is give up everything for you." You turned, grabbing the handle of your suitcase, and Jude’s heart clenched painfully as you went to turn towards the door. He wanted to reach out, to stop you, but his feet felt rooted to the floor. You stood there, suitcase in hand, your heart pounding as Jude's words echoed in the room, cutting through the tension like a jagged knife.

"I called her your name," he said softly, his voice strained with guilt, like he was offering it as some kind of consolation, a way to make things better, to prove you weren’t nothing to him. But instead of calming the storm inside you, it ignited something far worse—a deeper, more painful rage. Your grip tightened around the handle of the suitcase, your knuckles turning white as you stared at him, disbelief flooding through you.

 "You think that makes it better?" you asked, your voice cold, the anger simmering under the surface ready to explode. "You think that fixes anything?" A whirlwind of rage and heartbreak tearing through your chest. You couldn’t believe how the night had unraveled, and now, after everything you’d been through together, this was how it was ending.

“Wait!” Jude’s voice cracked behind you, desperate and pleading. You paused, barely turning your head, your body rigid with fury, your breath coming in sharp, jagged bursts. “When I—when I slept with her…” he began, stumbling over his words, “I called her your name.” His voice trembled, the confession hanging heavy in the air between you. He said it like it was supposed to mean something, like it should somehow ease the ache in your heart. But instead, it was gasoline on a fire.

“What?” Your voice was sharp, cutting through the tension like a blade. “You think that’s supposed to make me feel better?” You whipped around, eyes blazing, barely able to contain the explosion brewing inside you. 

“I—no, I just—” Jude stumbled over his words, trying to catch up with the damage he didn’t realize he’d already done. “I just wanted you to know, even when I was with her, I was thinking about you.”

“That’s supposed to be comforting?” You laughed bitterly, shaking your head. “You’re unbelievable.” He stepped forward, hands raised as if he could somehow reach you, somehow fix the irreparable.

 “I didn’t mean it like that. I was so messed up, I thought you were with someone else. I wasn’t thinking straight—”

“Don’t,” you snapped, your voice cold. “Don’t be sorry. You can sleep with whoever you want, right?” You threw the words at him, each one a bullet, sharp and cutting. “It must be so fucking hard being the Jude Bellingham and not hooking up with people when you’re this insecure.” The venom in your tone was thick, and Jude flinched, his face twisting in pain. He tried to protest, stepping forward, pleading. 

“Angel… I thought you were with him. I didn’t know what else to—” he puffed out some air defeated. 

“No, I’m not your angel anymore.” You interrupted , your voice dangerously low, as you turned fully to face him. The look on your face made him stop dead in his tracks. Something in your eyes shifted, darkening, and he knew instantly he was about to lose more than he’d ever realized. “Did she make you feel as good as I do?” Your voice trembled, but the power in your words was enough to knock the breath out of him. The question was simple, but the impact was profound. Jude froze, the weight of your question crashing into him. His eyes widened in shock and fear as he realized the gravity of what he’d done.

“God, no,” he breathed, his voice soft, like the truth was tearing him apart.

“Of course not,” you said, your voice dripping with scorn. You shook your head, a cruel, bitter laugh escaping your lips. “You threw everything away—for shitty sex—because you were too insecure to believe we had anything real.” The truth of it hit him like a punch to the gut. He couldn’t breathe, couldn’t think. The room seemed to spin around him as he watched you, standing there with a strength he suddenly realized he had never truly appreciated. You stepped closer to him, eyes burning into his, your voice steady but cold. “I hope it was worth it, Jude. I hope that fleeting moment of doubt and weakness was worth losing the one person who would’ve given you everything. Because I tried to give you everything.” You started crying, unable to stop. You had made a mistake but only because of Jude. His heart dropped to his stomach as he realized what you were saying and how much it hurt you. It wasn’t just about the mistake he made—it was about how he’d completely shattered something that could’ve been so much more. He hadn’t just messed up; he’d destroyed the only connection that had ever felt real to him. You took one last look at him, disgust and heartbreak mingling on your face. “You can keep apologizing, but it won’t change the fact that you let your insecurity ruin everything we had.” Jude had never been called insecure before and it had never been more true. And with that, you turned on your heel, leaving him standing there, drowning in the suffocating weight of his own regret. For the first time, it was glaringly obvious—emotionally and physically, no one would ever measure up to you. Jude’s face crumpled as he realized how wrong his words had been, how desperately he had miscalculated. He had thought that maybe, just maybe, telling you he’d been thinking of you would ease the pain, but all he had done was drive the knife deeper.

"I didn’t mean it like that," he stammered, his eyes pleading with you to understand. "I wasn’t trying to—"

"You weren’t trying to what, Jude?" you cut him off, your voice rising, the hurt pouring out of you now like a dam had broken. "You weren’t trying to tell me that I’m just some idea to you? That I’m nothing more than a name you throw around in your head, in your bed? I mean so little to you that it doesn’t even matter who I am as long as you can imagine me there?" Jude took a step toward you again, desperation in his eyes, his hands reaching out as if he could physically stop you from leaving, from pulling further away. 

"That’s not what I meant, I swear—" He shut his eyes. 

"But that’s exactly what it is," you spat, shaking your head, tears blurring your vision. "You don’t care enough to see me. Not really. You only care about the idea of me, the version of me that you can fit into your life, your world. But you’ve never actually cared enough to sort out who I really am, to protect me, to give me something real." Your chest felt like it was caving in, the weight of all the hurt you had been holding back for so long crashing down on you. You had given him everything, opened up your life, your heart, and now it felt like all of it had been taken advantage of. Used and discarded. Jude’s face fell, his expression shifting from confusion to something much darker—guilt, pain, the realization that he had truly lost you.

"I care about you, I care about you so much," he whispered, his voice breaking, but you shook your head, stepping back as the walls started to go up. This wasn’t something you could just patch over with words anymore.

"No, Jude," you said, your voice firm, though the cracks of emotion were still there, seeping through. "You don’t. You don’t care about me, because if you did, you wouldn’t treat me like this. You wouldn’t let me be labelless, nameless. You’d fight for me. You’d see me." Jude’s breath hitched, his eyes wide as he stared at you, helpless. He could feel you slipping away, and he didn’t know how to stop it. He had never been good with feelings, with sorting through the mess of his own emotions, and now, standing here in front of you, he realized that it was too late to learn.

"You’re right," he whispered, his voice cracking. "I didn’t let the people around me know that I saw you the way I did but I promise I did see it. I didn’t treat you how I knew I felt. But I will now. Please… don’t go." But the damage was done. The cold, suffocating weight of betrayal had settled deep inside your chest, and no matter how hard he tried, no matter what words he said, you knew there was no coming back from this.

"I can’t," you said, your voice hollow, the finality of it hanging heavy in the air. "I can’t keep letting you do this to me. This time… this time, I’m building a wall. A steel wall. I can’t keep protecting myself with the glass you begged me to take down because you keep shattering it." You turned toward the door, your heart breaking with each step you took, but you knew you couldn’t stay. Not anymore. Not after everything. And behind you, Jude stood frozen, his heart pounding in his chest as the realization hit him—he had lost you. Jude stood there, heart hammering in his chest as he watched you walk out the door, the words stuck in his throat, choking him. He wanted to call out, to say something, anything to stop you. He knew exactly what he needed to say—I love you. But how could he say that now? It would’ve been selfish, unfair. You didn’t deserve his love if it was tangled up in this mess, in the pain he had caused.

So, he let you go.

As the door clicked shut behind you, the silence swallowed him whole. His fists clenched at his sides, his body vibrating with a tension that had nowhere to go. He took a step forward, and then another, until he reached the wall. His breath was shallow, ragged, his head spinning. The pressure inside him built, rising like a tidal wave, until it was too much, until he couldn’t hold it back anymore. With a guttural scream, Jude lashed out, his fist connecting with the wall, the sharp pain shooting up his arm like fire. He didn’t care. He hit it again, harder this time, the plaster cracking beneath his knuckles. The pain was grounding, but it wasn’t enough. Nothing would ever be enough to numb the agony in his chest, the guilt that was eating him alive. He stumbled back, his body trembling, and slid down the wall until he was sitting on the cold floor, his head dropping into his hands. The tears came then, hot and unrelenting, streaming down his face as he sobbed into his palms. He couldn’t remember the last time he cried, but now he couldn’t stop. He was furious—at himself, at the situation, at everything he had done to you. Jude had spent so long trying to be the person everyone expected him to be, the confident, untouchable star, the guy who always had it together. He thought he needed to prove something to Toby the other night, prove that he was still Jude. The one who didn’t get tied down, who could have anyone and never cared too much. But right now, sitting there on the floor, broken and alone, he wanted to be anything but that person.  He had lost you, and it was all his fault. He had never felt more himself than when he was with you. He had never felt more safe and authentic and he was too juvenile to grow up and do something about it. The realization hit him like a sledgehammer. He had taken you for granted, dismissed your feelings, brushed off your pain. And now, you were gone. Maybe for good. He couldn’t fix it with an apology this time. Words were meaningless now, and no amount of charm or sweet talk could undo the damage he had caused.

"I’m so sorry," he whispered, his voice barely audible as it cracked with emotion, the tears still falling. He wasn’t sure if he was talking to you, to himself, or to the empty room that felt like it was closing in on him. Jude’s chest heaved with the weight of his own remorse, the crushing understanding that he had pushed away the one person who made him feel real, made him feel seen. And now, all he could do was sit there in the wreckage of what he’d destroyed, the emptiness echoing around him. All he had wanted was to be enough for you, but now he wasn’t sure he ever could be.

You furiously scrubbed over your arm where Jude’s initials once were every time you showered even though the ink of of him was long gone. It felt like Jude was burned onto your body, no solvent was strong enough. You couldn’t get him off. The tension between you and Jude had lingered long after that fateful night at the game. What had once felt so natural, so easy, had become heavy with unspoken words and unmet expectations. The awkwardness hung over you like a storm cloud, and neither of you knew how to clear the air. The silence between you was deafening. Jude wished he asked you to stay, beg you not to leave—but he knew your answer, his fear once again kept him quiet. When you walked out the door, neither of you called it a break. You weren’t officially together, so how could it be? But it felt like one. The space between you grew, not just in distance, but in the emotional chasm that had opened up. Back in your Manhattan apartment, you found yourself crying more than you’d care to admit. You were embarrassed, frustrated that you’d let yourself get so wrapped up in someone like Jude. Someone you thought might actually care about you beyond the physical. But now, all you had were memories that felt more distant with each passing day. Jude wasn’t faring much better. He would stare at his phone, your contact name glowing on the screen as his thumb hovered over it, unsure of what to say, what to do. Every time he thought about calling, he would sigh and put the phone down, the weight of his own insecurities and fears keeping him from making that leap. Even Denise noticed the change in her son. He was quieter, more withdrawn. She didn’t press him, knowing better than to force Jude to talk before he was ready. But she could see the hurt in his eyes, the way he carried himself with a heaviness that hadn’t been there before. Weeks passed in this limbo, neither of you reaching out, both of you desperate to but too afraid to be the first. Once you had left Madrid for home, everything seemed to unravel at once. You felt like this was the end for you and Jude, the silence between you made it feel like it should be. You hadn’t responded to his texts or calls. The sting of that moment in the suite still lingered, and as much as you cared for him, you couldn’t ignore the way he hesitated, like you didn’t matter. Back in Madrid, Jude was losing it. Your absence hit him harder than he expected. He tried to keep himself busy, but no amount of training or distractions could drown out the fact that you were gone, and the silence on your end was eating him alive. The uncertainty of whether you two were over gnawed at him, twisting in his gut.

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

Next part - Chapter 9 xx

[fakeuwus]

MANEATER | SIM JAEYUN (M)

PAIRING: virgin!jake x yn (femreader)

SYNOPSIS: in which jake is tired of being a virgin and you're asked to help him out.

WARNINGS: smut so MDNI! vrignity loss, oral (m and f receiving), unprotected sex (be safe out there), creampie, riding, multiple orgasms, etc. cursing, words like slut/whore, BARELY PROOFREAD

WC: 5k, lowercase intended

MESSAGE FROM NIC: here it finally is!! (sorry for the delay) my first piece of smut,,, hope it's what everyone imagined 😁 (also tysm for 2k notes on the teaser ahh!!) big thank u to my stella, @karinasbaby for encouraging this fic, one of my biggest supporters ilysm. pls be kind as this is something new for me BUT feedback is super appreciated, tell me what u liked and didn't like! (respectfully) also reblogs would be nice as well so feel free to drop one. love u guys sm 🫶🏼

jake sim was a virgin. a pitiful, pitiful virgin. and it’s not like he was ugly. not even close to that. jake was an attractive guy, easy on the eyes. and his flirting? a real smooth talker he was.

it was as if 2000s chad michael murray possessed his very soul every single time he would chat up a girl at a party or in class. 

so why couldn't he ever close the deal? how did he find himself in a steamy makeout session one second and then the next the girl is storming out of the room in disgust. every. single. time.

oh yea, because he was a fucking virgin. a pitiful, pitiful virgin. 

it seemed like girls these days wanted a man in charge. someone who could help them live out their fifty shades of grey fantasies. jake would like to think he could do that for them but how could he ever learn if no one wanted to give him the time of day? what happened to the girls that would spread their legs for anything and anyone?

all jake needed was one chance. one chance to stick his dick in a hole and he can move on with his life. 

his friends didn't make it any better either. he was getting tired of hearing all about their wild sexcapades every week and having nothing to contribute to the conversation.

but they don’t intentionally leave him out or make him feel bad about his lack of experience. they even try getting him with their past hookups because you know, sharing is caring right? 

“dude no way you fumbled sora. she’s a real slut i was so sure she would let you hit,” sunghoon says as he’s unwrapping his sandwich then taking a bite. “bro i didn't fumble anything. it's the same shit every time, once i tell them im a virgin they dip,” jake responds while he steals sunghoon’s sandwich and takes a bite for himself.

sunghoon doesn't even argue, his best friend is clearly in distress and is need of some food. “she started ranting about how she doesnt “do” virgins because they get attached and she thinks im gonna become obsessed with her or something.”

“why do you even tell them you’re a virgin in the first place? if that's the issue why even say anything at all?” heeseung questions with a mouth full of the same sandwich that somehow now ended up in his hands.

“because if he cums in .2 seconds then the girls are gonna think he’s a bad fuck. there's no winning here.” jake nods in agreement with jay's statement as he watches jay snatch the sandwich from heeseung and finish it off.

this is what is so beautiful about their friendship. they share everything with each other, the main things being girls and food. unfortunately for jake, bites of food is all he gets.

—-----------------

“oh fuck!” jakes pants while bucking his hips forward. vision blurry, drool pooling around the corner of his mouth. he genuinely feels like his soul is leaving his body and he wasn’t sure this was even real life anymore. to ground himself and bring him back to reality, he tries looking around the room to find something to distract him.

he doesn’t want to cum embarrassingly fast and he does NOT want to be seen as a bad fuck. out of the corner of his eye he spots a baby yoda squishmallow in the corner of the room, its sparkly eyes watching jake get his dick sucked for the first time.

it’s kind of weird but he finds comfort in the plushie and focuses on it to keep him from fucking exploding. 

now you might be wondering how he got here. in a hot girl’s room getting what he swears is the best head in his life (not that he has anything to compare it to.) the answer is jay, his best friend in the entire world who he now owes his first born to. 

“her name’s yn. just text her and ask when she wants to meet. i told her you were a virgin already so don’t worry about that,” jay explains as he’s scrolling through your profile showing jake what you look like.

silky, flowy hair, curves to die for. to say you’re gorgeous would be an understatement. the whole ordeal seemed too good to be true.

“she wants to fuck me? even after hearing i’m a virgin?” jake asks after grabbing his milk tea from the counter and walking towards a table.

jay simply nods and throws a look towards sunghoon, signaling him to explain the rest as they all take a seat. “yea that’s kind of her thing. she loves virgins. like, her body count consists of only virgins.”

jake was perplexed by the situation. surely he’d hear about a beautiful woman who only drops her panties for inexperienced guys roaming their campus.

heeseung then speaks up, as if reading jake’s mind, “she goes to the college in the next town over. around a 20 minute drive.” before continuing his sentence he shifts his eyes towards jay and sunghoon. eyeballs darting back and forth.

some unspoken dialogue is happening between the three as they sip their sweet drinks and jake just has to sit there and watch. minutes go by and jay clears his throat and sighs, finally breaking the silence.

“she uh, actually took all of our virginities back in high school. that’s how we know her.” 

pause. the fuck? he knew his friends all have gotten their dicks wet for the same girl before but at the same time? jake couldn’t believe what he was hearing. i mean, he did only just meet them three years ago, whatever they were up to before then he can’t judge.

he supposes desperate times call for desperate measures, and jake is sure he would’ve ended up in the same situation soon if they weren’t handing you on a silver platter to him.

“so… you guys had a foursome for your first times??”

heeseung instantly chokes on his boba as jake’s arm receives a punch from jay. a faint giggle is heard from sunghoon, “this bitch is choking on some balls.”

ignoring heeseung’s dramatics jay clarifies, “no you idiot, she took all of our virginities separately. we weren’t as desperate as you were.”

“and like, that pussy is so heavenly. i’d be pissed having to share her with another guy at the same time.” 

“roger that, brother.”

jake looks towards the two, sunghoon rubbing heeseung’s back trying to calm him down from his almost near death over some balls. 

“care to elaborate?” 

“man why do you think we’re all sex crazed freaks? her pussy’s got some voodoo magic in it or something. our manhood didn’t begin when we watched porn for the first time together, it started with her,” jay pauses and shifts in his seat, slight discomfort in his lower region.

he looks up and pinches his nose, “fuck i’m getting hard just thinking about it.” sneaking a peek at jay’s lower half, jake can see his friend chubbing it up in his pants. nothing he’s never seen before honestly. 

but what he hadn't seen before was how his friends were reminiscing so hard on a hook up the way they were right now. and the fact that their origin story of discovering their high libidos is all because of you? he was scared shitless of what he was about to get himself into.

-------------------

fast forward to some exchanged texts between you guys, jake found himself in your room with his pants around his ankles getting the life sucked out of him.

he quickly discovered you were very straightforward and to the point, immediately sending him your apartment address and what time to show up.

jake couldn’t argue though, all this talk about how you were gonna “change his life” and shit got him real worked up. he appreciated the fact that you skipped the small talk and went straight for his dick.

upon arriving and stepping into your living space, your lips smashed onto his and he was pushed down onto the bed. no hi, no hello. just your lucious, full lips swapping spit with his.

his hands instinctively flew to your waist, his digits gripping your plush skin as you straddle him. jake felt so in his element in the moment. making out? this is where he excels. he could do this all day if he could.

but he was here on a mission and he’ll be damned if he leaves without fucking you. or you fucking him. he was honestly down for whatever. you could ask to peg him and he would say yes.

you can sense his impatience, his face twisting in pleasure trying to savor every moment while the cogs are turning in his head, awaiting your next move. every squeeze he gave signaled that he wanted to get things moving.

you make your way down his body, peppering kisses any and everywhere leaving his skin burning. jake couldn’t believe what was about to happen.

in less than a minute he was about to get his first blowjob ever. what does he do? where do his hands go? what if he chokes you? what if he passes out from the stimulation?

before he can think of anymore what to do’s and what if’s, your mouth is on his dick and jake is seeing stars, figuratively and literally. he takes note of the little ones taped to your ceiling and thinks it’s cute.

the pink walls and plushies surrounding the two of you is such a stark contrast to your personality, or what little jake knows of you. but hey, he likes a woman with some duality to her.

“you can put your hands in my hair.”

jake finally takes a look down at you. pupils blown out, lips a bit swollen from all the sucking. you looked so, so pretty like this. he can only imagine what you look like with his cock in you.

trembling hands grab at your hair, slightly pushing you further down and a gagging noise emerges from the back of your throat. oh shit. your nose is practically meeting his pelvic bone and you aren’t letting up.

fuck it, jake thinks to himself. he was done with being patient. he starts fucking up into your mouth relentlessly, chasing the orgasm he was delaying. and you just let him.

you’re merely a hole for him in this moment and you could care less. his dick may be average in size but the girthiness of it was so delicious, you couldn’t get enough.

to make sure he reaches his high, you reach for his balls and start playing with them. his erratic thrusts combined with you squeezing his genitals he twitches in your mouth and his cum is shooting out, pooling out the sides of your lips.

and you don’t stop there. you keep going and going and jake actually feels like he’s going to pass out. “okay, okay please please!” you swallow everything he gave you and finally let him go with a pop to come up for air.

you get up and see him lying there on your bed, unmoving. eyes closed and mouth agape barely taking breaths. one might think he’s dead but this was typical.

once a guy gets to cum in a girl’s mouth for the first time they don’t know what to do with themselves. nudging him with your knee he breaks out of his trance with a lopsided smile adorning his face. god he’s adorable.

before you can suggest a break he immediately grabs you by the hips and flips you onto your back. your shorts go flying onto the floor behind him and he spreads your legs wide to prop them onto his shoulders.

his tongue immediately attaches to your clit and he starts licking you all over. slurping and sucking, as if this was his last meal on earth. he was desperate to get you to cum the way you made him and it was showing.

jake’s eating you out a little too expertly to your liking, as if he’s done this a million times. you won’t judge if he has, you’re literally the last person to judge someone’s sexual history but how is he still a virgin if he eats pussy this good?

he must’ve been met with horrible women who just used him for his mouth and left him dry. you wouldn’t do that to him though, poor guy doesn’t deserve that.

he inserts two fingers into your hole while his mouth was still working your clit. jesus christ. you didn’t notice before but his fingers were so slender and long, reaching places your own didn’t. “am i doing okay? kind of my first time.”

oh? so this was his first time eating pussy. you simply give him a nod of approval, not being able to utter a word as he dives right back in.

in all of your sexual encounters, never has there been a guy so willing to return the favor. and the fact that you didn’t even have to ask? where the fuck did jay find a guy like this? was he aware his friend was a fucking certified munch?

determined to make sure you cum, jake inserts another finger and moves his fingers in an upward motion, trying to find your spot. at least that’s what wikihow told him how to do it.

the sound of your moans and the taste of your pussy on his tongue simply feel amazing and he feels like he could come alone like this. at this point you’re panting and riding his fingers and god it’s so hot. you’re so hot.

jake finds himself humping into the mattress, trying to aid his painful hard on he’s grown since going down on you.

his wrist begins to ache with how fast he’s pumping into you but he doesn’t give a fuck, he’ll do anything to see what you look like when you reach your high.

“oh god, i’m, i’m- ahhh!” you come undone onto his mouth and hand, lips forming an o shape with the most pornographic moan he’s ever heard and he silently releases his load along with you onto the bed.

jake makes sure every single drop of your delicious juices are all licked up, driving your oversensitivity.

“so? how was i?”

you take a look at his annoyingly cute face and he’s licking all over his fingers like a lollipop. cute. gaining some of your composure, your eyes spot a wet spot on your sheets.

“wait, did you…”

“oh. sorry about that. i couldn’t help it.” jake explains with a sheepish smile and a scratch behind his head. not only is this guy a munch but he came untouched while tongue fucking you. you weren’t even sure guys like him existed, like at all.

without speaking another word, you grab the back of his neck and smash your lips onto his. tasting yourself on him has you wet all over again and you both begin to undress each other.

you detach yourself to take your shirt off and he pauses to fully look at you, drinking in every inch of your body. hands grab at your boobs and he pinches a nipple, a small moan escaping your mouth.

your body was literally to die for, the pictures on your profile barely doing you justice. and to finally be able to feel all around your curves and give your boods and ass tight squeezes was a dream come true for jake.

(he may or may not have been jerking off to the few posts you have up, counting down the days of you guys finally meeting but you didn’t have to know that)

you also took a moment to admire his body. to say jake was sculpted like a fucking greek god was an understatement, sporting a six pack and biceps to die for. veins running all over his arms and hands.

deciding it’s finally time to do the deed, you switch positions and motion for him to lay on his back. “are you ready?”

“wait! what about a condom?”

“i’m clean and i know you are so…”

“right.”

you throw your legs over his waist, now straddling him with your vagina inches from his cock. “okay, take deep breaths. i’m gonna slowly go down alright?”

jake throws a thumbs up and eagerly nods. in a moment like this he doesn’t fail to be endearing. you could literally just eat him up with how cute he was. your pussy was about to anyway.

you lace your fingers with his and slowly lower yourself onto him. there’s some intimacy with your actions and jake finds comfort in your eyes, looking at him adoringly.

it was finally fucking happening and jake couldn’t believe it. he was about to become a man. and the fact that it was you taking his virginity, a gorgeous woman who doesn’t care that he’s inexperienced and lets him hit it raw. it's really all he can ask for.

once your walls are wrapped around his tip, jake’s a goner. the little sweet moment you two shared is thrown out the window and he starts bucking his hips up into you, hard and fast.

his hands find purchase on your hips and he’s gripping them so hard you're sure there will be bruises tomorrow. you wanted to start out slow as it is his first time but it seems his thrusting says otherwise.

you press your hands against his chest and begin to move rhythmically in sync with him. jake’s eyes immediately roll back and his breathing quickens.

his hands fall to his side and he lays lifeless beneath you, letting you take full control.

all he could do was stare at the spot where his dick entered you and it was making him even more hornier. he couldn’t tell where he ended and you began.

your wetness didn’t help anything either. the squelching sounds indicated that you were very much enjoying this as much as he was.

“fuck you feel so good baby,” jake moans. the pet name that slips past his lips and it doesn’t go unnoticed but you also don’t question it.

for some reason the simple word made your heart jump. guys always called things like babe or even whore when they really let loose.

those never got to your head, you know they couldn’t really control themselves in the moment and you let them have their fun.

but jake has been nothing but kind to you this whole time, like he knew you were doing him a service and not the other way around.

this only fueled your desire to ensure that his sure first time exceeded his expectations so upped your menstrations. you quickly changed your pace to grind forward, backwards, and in circles making sure his dick felt every inch of you.

jake’s mind was reeling, his breath caught in his throat. he feels as if his dick was about to fall off with the way you were moving.

your body leans forward and you begin to kiss at his neck, leaving hickeys everywhere. your hot breath near his ear sends him into overdrive, must be a sensitive spot of his he never knew he had, but also how could he have known?

his hands that were once gripping the sheets meet your ass and he starts to guide you up and down his cock. you both were about to reach your climaxes, your pussy clenching with every move.

“i’m- where? fuck! where do i cum?”

“inside. cum inside me please.”

inside?? his first time cumming from sex and you were gonna let him do it inside of you? jake swears you couldn’t be any more perfect than you are right now.

you knew you threw him for a loop and honestly yourself as well. pushing these thoughts towards the back of your head you start riding him aggressively, even faster than before. “fuck, jake i’m cumming!”

“me too baby oh my god!”

and there was that damn pet name again. it makes your heart leap out of your chest and sends you over the edge.

the knot in your stomach snaps and jake follows shortly after, his load shooting into you. it pools out of you and you don’t hesitate to swipe some up with a delicate finger and bring it to your mouth, mirroring his actions from earlier.

your eyes meet his fucked out ones and you smile down at him, admiring the masterpiece of lovebites you left all over him. his vision was a bit blurry but he catches the way your lips curled upward, flashing your pearly whites.

jake finds himself instantly becoming hard again, call him easy but when a pretty girl is smiling at him like that after fucking him, can you really blame him?

you move yourself off of him and jake was fully expecting you to kick him out now but instead you position yourself on all fours, your ass in the air inviting him in.

“fuck. you’re into anal?”

you turn your head sharply to look at him over your shoulder, raising an eyebrow to question what he just said. the look you give him says it all and jake takes the hint and positions himself behind you.

“can we try anal next time though?”

an exasperated sigh leaves your lips and you reach over to grab his dick, inserting him into you. “umph! okay sorry.”

upon entering your pussy, jake relishes in the feeling of it. being inside your heat again leaves him breathless for the nth time today.

in and out. in and out. he tries to match his breathing with his gradual strokes. his member is extra sensitive right now and he’s trying not to lose himself. the impatience he had earlier has now moved onto you so you decide to take matters into your own hands and start fucking back into him.

your ass is now meeting his hips and the sound of skin slapping echoes in your room along with your moans. jake’s body is flailing from the sudden impact but he grounds his hands around your waist and grips the shit out of you.

he notices bruises forming on your skin but he can’t for the life of him let go. oops. he’ll do his best to remember to apologize for them tomorrow.

when there’s a good pace between the two of you, you fling yourself upward, back meeting his chest and the new angle has him reaching spots he didn’t before.

you take one of his strong arms and place it around your neck, having him choke you as you ride him like there’s no tomorrow. jake’s brain begins to turn to mush and he feels like he’s even more turned on at the revelation of one of your kinks.

and at this point you’re fucking onto him so hard, so good, he didn’t want it to end. “shit. shit. i love your pussy so much baby.” jake whines into your ear, meaning every word he said.

is it crazy to say you love someone upon meeting them for the first time? well, their pussy. yea. maybe. but who gives a fuck.

he was a man possessed by you, by your pussy. in this moment he truly believed there was some voodoo magic going on down there and he was blessed to be experiencing it.

you clench at his words, and your heart flips once more, prompting you to draw him closer to you (if that was even remotely possible)

the closeness of your bodies creates another intimate moment shared, kisses stolen from one another, hands tangled in his hair.

“i’m close,” he whispers in your ear, his breath leaving tingles down your spine. the hushed whispers you exchange contrast the sporadic thrusting that’s happening.

determined to reach your second high of the day, you push jake onto his back and settle yourself onto your knees, continuing to bounce up and down on his cock.

“yea just like that baby, shit shit shit i’m cumming, i’m cumming!”

jake opens his eyes to watch the scene unfold before him and god was it something. your back arches as you take his cum in you once more and your screams fill his ears, signaling you orgasmed right after him.

this moment alone is better than porn itself, and jake savors every bit of it. there’s absolutely no way he can even bring himself to type “nsfw” in his twitter search bar ever again after this.

you hover yourself over him leaving just the tip inside before sliding right back down, pushing his seed back in while it gushes around his cock leaving jake wanting, no needing, a third round with you.

but to his dismay you roll yourself off of his body, landing on the mattress next to him.

“so… how do you feel?”

he releases a long exhale he didn’t know he was holding, “fantastic. 10/10 experience. would do it again.” you simply giggle at his response with a shake of your head, getting up to gather your clothes.

“wait! um, could we do this again?”

you playfully roll your eyes at him, leaving his question unanswered as you begin to dress yourself.

—-----------------

sat in his computer chair, jake is finding it difficult to finish this stupid ethics assignment. how is he supposed to argue about the death penalty when you straight up almost murdered him with your pussy less than 2 hours ago?

he’s sure his professor wouldn’t appreciate if he wrote that he doesn’t give a fuck about someone serving their punishment if the culprit was you, but honestly speaking he’d let you get away with just about anything. you were an angel sent from above to him who could do no wrong. 

the way your soft lips wrapped around his cock while your innocent (not) eyes bored into his soul. the way you licked and kissed every single inch of his body, leaving nothing left untouched. and god, the way you worked his dick? how was he supposed to move on from you??

you were an insatiable, sex-crazed goddess. a once in a lifetime experience he was so grateful to have. 

his thoughts are interrupted by a loud knocking at his door. two seconds later, jay trails into jake’s room followed by dumb and dumber, all of them having a snug look on their faces.

they make themselves comfortable before they get right into the interrogation. jay leans against the desk, sunghoon sits in the bean bag situated in the corner, and heeseung sprawls himself across the bed.

“so virgin, how was it?”

 “wasn’t i right about her pussy?” 

“where did she make you cum?” 

eyes rolling in the back of his head, jake takes a deep sigh before answering their questions. “one, i’m not a virgin anymore so stop calling me that. two, it was absolutely fucking amazing. literally would give up heaven for it. and three, she had me cum in her. twice.”

heeseung shoots up from his position, jaw dropped and eyes wide. “you came in her twice?!” the boys all share a bewildered expression on their faces, dramatic as always.

jake just shrugs at them, what? didn’t you usually let guys cum in you like the freak you were?

jay slaps his hands down on jake’s shoulders, aggressively turning the computer chair towards him. “jake. buddy. yn has two rules.” 

sunghoon suddenly appears on jay’s left, “one. you can’t cum in her. you can cum anywhere BUT inside of her.” 

heeseung follows and is now on jay’s right side, “and two. she doesn’t repeat fuck.”

immediately following this revelation there’s silence.  complete and utter silence.  the gazes they hold are intense and uninviting. as if they truly couldn’t believe you let their best friend who’s never felt the touch of a woman break one of your rules.

their eyes say it all, they love jake to death and are happy for him, like seriously happy and relieved he’s finally entered manhood. but really? none of them got to do what he did? what was so special about him?

you don’t even know the answer to those questions yourself. maybe it was the puppy eyes or his whiny moans that made you feel like you had him in the palm of your hands.

his eagerness to pleasure you but to also receive reminded you of the sole purpose of why you only go for virgins. they made you feel wanted while also letting you be in charge. call it selfishness but why can’t a girl have the best of both worlds? 

and you’d never admit it, but jake was one of the best fucks you’ve had in a while. he never tried to be someone he wasn’t, just authentically himself. a pitiful, pitiful virgin. and he was proud of it.

it was refreshing to fuck someone who didn’t have some sort of ego right after you were done with them. immediately bragging to everyone what you two did and acting like they could pull any girl as if you weren’t doing charity work for most of them. 

with all of this in mind, of course you let him cum in you. he was doing so well for you, how could you not reward him? had to let him do it twice to drive it home.

and seriously, what kind of guy gives you a tender, sweet goodbye kiss and thanks you for defiling him? you didn’t regret your decisions with him but they were definitely scaring you. 

never have you ever been this intimate with a guy, but jake was different. you felt it. and what you did next didn’t scare you as much as your recent choices with him.

*ping!*

the staredown between jake and his friends comes to a halt and he digs his phone out of his pocket to check it. sliding up, he sees the message appear on his screen:

you: are you free tomorrow?

he glances at his friends’ expectant eyes and throws them a smirk. looks like he gets to break that second rule of yours. 

© fakeuwus 2024 do not repost, translate, or plagiarize

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[norrisainz33]

European getaway || cs55

☆ summary: y/n goes on a vacation to spain and ends up meeting carlos sainz by chance. tho she has no idea her european fling is actually a very successful f1 driver

☆ pairing: carlos sainz x nonfamous!reader

☆ fc & warnings: none

☆ requested: yes! thank you sm for this wonderful request

ﾟ. ✿ ୨❤︎୧⠀✿ . ﾟ

ynuser has made a post 🔒

liked by yourbff, yoursibling, friend2, friend 3 and 101 others

ynuser: i could get used to this! me encanta espana

view all 8 comments

yourbff: petition for us to stay in spain forever

ynuser: time to find our spanish husbands so we never have to leave!

yoursibling: europe looks good on u

ynuser: thanks b 💅🏻

friend3: always serving fits girl

ynuser: half of my clothes are stolen from you

friend2: obsessed with you

ynuser: obsessed with you bb

ynuser has added to their story 🔒

[1. girls night out ahead. 2. guys i met a hot man at this club. 3. hehe he’s taking me home. we stayed out so late it’s almost light again]

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yourbff: we look cute

yourbff: wait he’s hotter than i originally thought hold up 🤤🤤

yourbff: did you even get his name???? how am i supposed to make sure ur safe if i don’t know his name

ynuser: dude he’s so hot it’s insane and his name is carlos

ynuser: i’m with him at his hotel rn and this man has to be loaded this is the nicest hotel i’ve ever stepped foot in.

yourbff: hot AND rich AND sweet AND a gentleman???????? what is in the water here in spain

ynuser: i just googled his watch that he’s wearing and it’s $300k

yourbff: ok tea……y/n/n i’m so serious you are living every girls dream rn including mine

ynuser: i think i love him

yourbff: ok , maybe it’s time for you to come back to the hotel and get some sleep

ynuser: ugh you’re so right.

ynuser: he called me a driver , i’ll be back soon

yourbff: PLEASE TELL ME TOU GOT HIS NUMBER

ynuser: more than that 🤭 him and his friend are going to take us out for dinner tomorrow and show us around town 😫😍🫶🏻

yourbff: OMGOMGOMGOMGOMG

yoursibling: girl you wildin and i love it. stay safe pls

ynuser: yes of course bb

friend3: why that man kinda look familiar

ynuser: if u figure it out lmk

ynuser has added to their story 🔒

[1. sightseeing courtesy of our new friend carlos. 3. looks like we found ourselves some dates 😉]

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friend2: y/n are you sharing churros con chocolate with a MAN

ynuser: YES

ynuser: i’ve been caught

friend2: you sneak.. i need every single detail

yourbff: i feel like we are in a movie for real

ynuser: i think we might be

yoursibling: how is it that you and y/bff/n always end up in these sorts of romance novel type situations

ynuser: it’s bc we are the it girls 💅🏻

carlossainz55 had added to his story

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user1: what are you doing in madrid carlos

user2: OMG WHO IS THAT IN THE SECOND SLIDE CARLOSSSSS

landonorris: and what do we have here 👀

carlossainz55: just some travels in spain!

landonorris: with a girl??

carlossainz55: good catch 😉

landonorris: DETAILS?!

carlossainz55: if you must know and you promise to keep it secret

landonorris: of course mate

carlossainz55: i met this gorgeous girl in a club in barcelona and we hit it off. she doesn’t know im a driver she just thinks im a guy on holiday and its been rather refreshing so now im showing her around spain

landonorris: i support you in this brother but you know you’re gonna have to explain the whole famous thing at some point

carlossainz55: i know i know

user3: just fell to my knees is this a soft launch

charlesleclerc: enjoying break i see 😏

carlossainz55: yes i am 😏

user4: everyone stay calm!!!! stay CALM

user5: so little info here how am i supposed to find this girl by her shoes 🫣

user6: can’t wait till f1gossip sees this

ynuser has added to their story 🔒

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yoursibling: hold up did HE COME WITJ YOU GUYS

ynuser: yes 🤭

ynuser: when i tell you i think i met the love of my life

yoursibling: ugh i’m so jealous but also so happy for you!! you deserve this

friend2: bruh he’s fine as heck what is going on here

ynuser: no i know

yourbff: wait send me the pic of carlos and teto carrying our luggage pls im begging

ynuser: done and done

friend3: y/n y/m/n y/l/n have you ever seen a formula 1 race before

ynuser: you mean like the race cars?

friend3: yes the race cars!!!! i’m 99.9% sure that man in your photos drives for the FERRARI F1 TEAM. THAT IS THE CARLOS SAINZ

ynuser: oh my god… you’re right …….. he’s a FAMOUS FERRARI DRIVER?!

ynuser: oh my god he has 10 million followers

friend3: how did you NOT know this!!!!!!!!

ynuser: idk!!! i don’t follow f1!!!

friend3: well now you legally have to

ynuser: clearly omg

friend3: YOURE THE GIRL IN HIS STORY OFNEKGN

ynuser: OMG I AM

f1gossip has made a post

liked by user1, user2, user3, user4, user5, user6, and 4,255 others

f1gossip: carlos sainz has been spotted getting cozy with a mystery girl in madrid! we think this has got to be the girl who was in the story carlos posted a few days ago. they’ve also been spotted out at dinner with another woman and who we believe to be teto!! no information on who they are just yet but seem by all accounts to not be anyone we know

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user1: when will it be my turn!!!!

user2: that should be me 😭😭😭 happy for her i guess 😭😭😫😫

user3: so he was soft launching someone

user4: happy for him ig

friend3: ynuser girl

ynuser: oh my god

friend2: girl oh my god

yourbff: omg stop ???? is this movie about us???

user6: do you all know something we don’t

user3: no bc your profile pics kinda be similar to the girl in the pics f1 gossip posted 👀

user6: carlos doesn’t follow them yet but maybe that’ll change

user3: WAIT IT SAYS HES FOLLOWING YNUSER NOW

user5: i am so envious

ynuser has added to their story 🔒

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friend3: ok so the fan girls have found us it seems

ynuser: they really have… i have 2,694 follower requests right now

yourbff: the f1gossip account is trying to contact me,, they’re literally in my dms rn…. you look hot tho 😘😍😫

ynuser: they’re also trying to message me too. never thought our trip to spain would end up like this (i’m not complaining this is just a little overwhelming)

yourbff: me neither but if it had to happen i’m glad you met carlos!! you two seem like genuinely really well matched. i know it’s only been like…. 3 weeks but im stanning and shipping y/ncarlos so hard

ynuser: 😮‍💨😭 y/ncarlos omg stop hahaha

ynuser: i’m planning to put him in my pocket and take him back to the states with us

carlossainz55: ay dios mío hermosa chica 😍😍

ynuser: 🤭 you’re making me blush

carlossainz55: good, it’s cute when you blush

ynuser: you really have 10 million followers and drive for the scuderia ferrari huh

carlossainz55: yes mi amor. im sorry for not telling you sooner… i just really was enjoying getting to know you as just carlos and not as the ferrari driver

ynuser: and that makes sense i just … this is all just a bit intimidating

carlossainz55: no reason to be intimidated, i’m still just carlos 🥺

ynuser: if you say so

carlossainz55: i do say so hermosa🤍

carlossainz55: now that the cat is out of the bag…. do you want to come watch me race?

ynuser: you want me to come to one of your races?

carlossainz55: only if you want to! no pressure at all tho y/n/n

ynuser: i’d love to 😫

carlossainz55: i was hoping you’d say that. i’ll make arrangements for you to come to monza 😉

ynuser: italy?! omg i’ve never been to italy!!!!

carlossainz55: never?! oh boy then i have quite the time planned for us

landonorris: i feel like an elite member of a very exclusive club for being able to follow

ynuser: you are!! only 231 other people have the privilege

friend2: please send lando norris my number i see he’s following you now

ynuser: HAHAHAAH i respect the hustle. i tell him about you when i meet him in person in 2 weeks

friend2: IN PWROSN Y/N WHAT

yoursibling: bestie why are race car fan accounts trying to contact me all the sudden

ynuser: so you know that man i’ve been seeing while in spain with y/bff/n? turns out he’s a very famous formula 1 driver

yoursibling: you’ve got to be kidding me

ynuser: i am being very for real

ynuser has made a post 🔒

liked by carlossainz55, yourbff, yoursibling, friend2, landonorris, friend3, and 102 others

ynuser: thank you to spain for literally changing my life

view all 22 comments

friend2: omg that’s where my sunglasses went 🙄

ynuser: idk what you’re talking abt 🤭

yourbff: thanks for going on the trip of a lifetime with me y/n/n

ynuser: i love you bestie 🫶🏻

carlossainz55: and thank you to the universe for crossing our paths 🥹

ynuser: thank you universe, i am forever grateful 😫

landonorris: ok cool girl alert

ynuser: you know it

friend3: i’m not sure how to act normal in these comments y/n

ynuser: me neither

yoursibling: you’re never coming home after italy in a few weeks are you

ynuser: nope!

carlossainz55 has made a post

liked by user1, charlesleclerc, scuderiaferrari, ynuser, yourbff, landonorris, yoursibling, and 783,102 others

carlossainz55: happy for the team, charles and the tifosi. it’s a shame i missed the podium but at least i got to spend my birthday with my favorite girl. until next time monza!

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user2: ohhhhhh a hard launch

user3: i wish he got a podium in his last monza in a ferrari

charlesleclerc: ❤️ thank you chili

alexandrasaintmleux: cuties 🤍

user4: this hard launch is distracting me from the immense sadness, thanks carlos

user55: she’s living my dream your honor

ynuser: feliz cumpleaños mi amor

carlossainz55: gracias princessa

ynuser: gracias por una semana perfecta [thank you for a perfect week]

carlossainz55: de nada 🤍

user10: you did all you could carlos

scuderiaferrari: we are proud of you chili

user16: you and your big brain still did amazing

yourbff: you did great carlos!

ﾟ. ✿ ୨❤︎୧⠀✿ . ﾟ

a/n: likes and reblogs appreciated!! i quite liked this one and hope you did too

ﾟ. ✿ ୨❤︎୧⠀✿ . ﾟ

disclaimer: pictures are not mine and everything i write is fiction

© norrisainz33 || please do not rewrite, translate, or copy any of my works posted here on to any other platform

[thinkinonsense]

old!logan and his obsession with the cute diner girl *mdni

a/n: this is my first attempt at writing something smutty so if it sucks im sorry lmao also if any writers have any tips please share! :)

logan has been around for long enough to know when a woman is attracted to him. there was a certain essence given off that was always a dead giveaway. usually it came from women close to the age he looked like and it tended to be brief moments of lust before all hope was lost. this was until he met you.

the pretty young girl working at the diner during her time off from college. everyday, he came in and ordered a black coffee. the coffee wasn't even that good but logan would spend two dollars every single day of his life if it came with the view of you bending over in that tiny uniform skirt.

logan would watch you for hours while he drank and skimmed the news paper alone in a booth. your hair was always up in either a ponytail or held together with a hair clip. he loved seeing your pretty handwriting as you scribbled on your notepad, taking orders. it was part of your job to be nice to everyone but you were especially nice to him. even your friends began to notice how you would linger by his table, constantly topping off his coffee mug and making small talk; sometimes giving him a slice of cherry pie on the house.

"don't you think he's kinda old for you?" one of your friends whispers to you behind the counter.

it's stung but you suppose she had a point. what would a man old enough to be your father want with a young wild girl like yourself?

"i-i guess so?" you stuttered, embarrassed at your previous attempt at flirting with him.

the rest of the night, you hoped he would leave before close so you could have some time alone with your feelings. summer was almost over and you would go back to the city soon. it was time to forget these silly fantasizes.

by ten, all the other waitresses went home except you, the older woman in the back who counted the drawer every night, and a few of the cooks. the only customer still there was logan. he flipped through one of the books he brought with him; still sipping away at that damn coffee.

"isn't it getting a little late for you, sweetheart?" he asked nonchalantly, not even looking up at you as you bent over to scrub the table next to his. the fifth table you've cleaned in the last hour and the second time you've cleaned that specific table. logan noticed but you didn't.

"need the hours." you mumble, frustrated by a stubborn stain. all logan could focus on was your scrunched nose and how your tight top pushed your boobs together just right for his viewing. "college is fucking expensive plus grants and scholarships only cover so much."

"hmm.." logan grunts. grants? scholarship? what a goody fucking two shoes, logan thought to himself. "if you bring me piece of pie, i think i can help you out."

you lean off the table and go get what's left in the glass container. it's probably a little hard so you definitely didn't plan on charging him for it. you sit the plate down in front of him and before you could turn around to walk away, logan reaches for your wrist softly.

"join me." he offers.

you knew you shouldn't but what was really the harm? at least your friends weren't here to make fun of you. the radio played quietly on an older station while you watched logan take a bite of the pie.

"why did your friends leave you here alone?" he asked, watching your face turn sour at the memory of them.

"don't wanna talk about it." your voice was small in the empty diner.

"why? think an old man like me can't relate to it?" logan chuckles. your thighs squeeze together without thinking. so much for not embarrassing yourself.

"no, no, not that." you shake your head and a strand of hair falls from your bun. "just sort of juvenile, you know?"

logan could tell that you were trying to come off more mature around him. you didn't want him to see you as some college kid.

"juvenile, how?" he eggs on, pushing down his glasses a bit.

god, those glasses got to you; and logan knew it.

"they don't understand how i feel about someone." you sigh.

"how do you feel about this person?" logan noticed you now avoiding his gaze, not liking it one bit. "eyes on me, princess."

the nickname caught you off guard like a dear in headlight; blinking and trembling up at logan. something logan enjoyed very much and could get used to.

"it's not important, just some stupid crush." you lie through your teeth. "they will forget about me in a month."

"why don't you think it'll work?" he cocks his head to the side a bit. "you're a pretty young thing, dollface. anyone of those college boys would be lucky to be wrapped around your little finger."

"i don't want college boys." you mumble, slightly annoyed by the memory of your friends.

logan felt himself getting hard at you admitting you had a taste for someone older. his eyes grew dark as he leaned in a little over the table.

"then what do you want?"

your moment to answer was interrupted by the older woman from the back, releasing you to go home for the evening. this was your chance to get up and leave before you admitted anything else that you would regret.

both of you stood up. logan threw down some cash while you went to collect your stuff behind the counter.

"i'll see you tomorrow, lo-"

"you didn't answer the question."

"i must go now if i want to catch the last train."

logan worried about you taking the train back to your apartment alone this late at night. usually you drive back but your car has been in the shop for almost three days now. he would watch you get to your car every night to make sure you were safe.

"i can drive you home." logan offers.

you shouldn't be this excited to be sitting in a strangers truck alone at night but here you were. the two of you sat in silence for a few minutes before logan brought up the conversation from the diner again. what did you even want?

"i want someone who understands me..." you begin rattling off the first things that come to mind when you notice logan's hand on your knee. you don't dare move.

"someone who is responsible..." with every word, his hand creeps higher and higher up your skirt. logan is more than pleased when he notices your legs spread on their own.

"someone who is m-mature..." logan's fingers inch towards the delicate skin of your inner thigh. there's no way this was happening, you thought as his index finger plays with the lace on the center of your pink underwear. he smirked at the wet spot front and center, waiting for him.

"treats me r-r-right." every word was a struggle to form as he stroked you softly. back and forth. back and forth.

logan nods along, not letting up down below. his index finger hooks onto your underwear, pulling it aside. you weren't even sure if you were breathing at this point; all this teasing was torture.

"p-p-please, logan..." you whine. "touch me."

his thumb rubs tiny circles on your button, adoring the way his name pours from your glossy lips. your hands fly to his wrists, needing more; nails digging into his skin in the most delicious way.

"where did this greediness come from?" logan groans, dipping his index finger inside of you. "what happened to that good girl from the diner?"

logan's finger barely fit in the tight space. your head fell back and a loud moan escaped you.

"oh, you weren't letting those college boys touch you at all, huh?" logan mocks, adding another finger and creating a steady pace.

"n-no!" you whine, lifting your hips a little.

"you were waiting for a real man to have his way with you, isn't that right, pretty girl?" he growls, pushing your hips back down.

you completely missed logan pulling off to the side of the road until now. his pace increases becoming rather rough now that he isn't driving. logan leaves deep purple bruises down your neck and across your chest, praising you to no end until you gush around his fingers, completely soaking his palm.

your heart pounded like you had just finished a marathon. logan allowed you to catch your breath as he carefully removed his fingers, bringing them up to his mouth to lick clean. he can feel your dazy eyes staring at him as he does so, making a real show of it.

"i've been wanting to do that for months now." he admits with a smirk.

"me too." you said, leaning forward and pulling him into a kiss; tasting yourself on his lips and tongue. logan wraps his hands around your hair, pulling you back a little when another moan falls from your lips.

"and we aren't even close to being done."